Realware

There were even a few moldies among the guests. Phil had asked Isis Snooks, who'd been such a help with his blimps, and Isis had brought along the flashy Thutmosis as her date. Wendy and Cobb each had a few moldie friends, and they were there too. Thanks to the stinkeater bug, mixing with moldies wasn't much of a problem anymore, so long as you had an open mind.

People were drinking champagne like there'd be no tomorrow, jabbering away like magpies, everyone jumping at every loud noise. In the last month, Dakar, Hamburg, Hong Kong, Belfast, Antwerp, and Paris had been hit by enormous bombs. Allas had repaired the buildings, but a lot of people had died. And just yesterday New York City had been bombed too. Everyone was on edge, waiting for the next thing to happen. And then it did.

"A flying saucer!" screamed Phil's mother, Eve. "Look out, Phil! Oh, what if they've come for you again!"

The saucer hanging outside the ballroom windows was a traditional metal disk with a dome in the middle. The Metamartians' ship.

"They can help us!" shouted Randy. "They can take away the allas!" The frames and sashes of the windows quivered as if water were passing over them, and then the saucer had slid through the wall and into the ballroom. It rested there, cocked a bit toward one side, just fitting between floor and ceiling. A radial line appeared along the curve of the central dome, and then a pie-shaped sector of the curved metal slid open. Out came eight figures: the seven Metamartians from before, plus a new one, a gray little shape like a bald girl with big, almond-shaped eyes.

Yoke sniffed at the air--yes, there was the scent of old-fashioned moldies. The Metamartians hadn't yet caught the stinkeater bug.

"We are here to salute the nuptials," said Shimmer, holding up her hands and making soothing gestures. "Please remain calm, dear friends. We come in peace, seeking your aid. I am Shimmer from Metamars, and my companions are Ptah, Peg, Josef, Siss, Wubwub, Haresh. As many of you know, it is we and our god Om who have brought mankind and moldies the alla. And our gift has been mediated by these four whose marriages you celebrate today: Yoke, Phil, Randy, and Babs. We too have a blessed event to rejoice in: the birth of our sevenfold daughter Lova." The gray little Lova bent her mouth up into a U-shaped smile and bowed, making flowing gestures with her long-fingered hands.

"Skip the bullshit and take away the fucking allas!" yelled Willow. "They're ruining our world and you know it!"

"She's right," called Randy. "Tell Om to take the allas away!"

"Please, Om!" shouted Babs. "The allas are wrong for us. We aren't ready." Lova bowed again.

"She's butt-ugly," said Yoke, all her tension rushing out into a sudden guffaw.

"They're making fun of us."

"Careful," said Darla, coming up behind Yoke. "They're going to ask for something big. It's like in a fairy tale. The witches at the princess's wedding."

"You right, Darla," said Wubwub. "But what we after is no big thing: we need help gettin' outta here is all. We don't know which way to go toward two-dimensional time. And we got the notion one of you can help us. How 'bout it, Phil?"

Yoke threw her arms around Phil. "You leave him alone!"

"Wait!" said Phil, digging in his pocket. "Maybe it's this thing -- " He pulled out his little black ball with the bright spots inside it. "Is this what you need, Wubwub? The fishbowl thing I got from Om? It's a star map, isn't it? Turn off the allas and use the star map to go."

"It's a map, but it ain't go

"Throw it to him, Phil!" said Yoke. "Don't let him come near you!" So Phil tossed his little ball, and Wubwub caught it. The Metamartians pressed forward to peer at it, and the beetle Josef actually crawled around upon it.

"Yes, Om already gave me one of these through my alla," said Shimmer shortly.

"It's a star map, but it's of no use. It only shows your part of the cosmos. Your map shows your zone, and we have another map that shows our zone, the good part of the cosmos with two-dimensional time. But there's no master map that shows the interdimensional co

There was an explosion somewhere outside, not too terribly distant. A few of the guests screamed.

"Turn off the allas right now!" cried Yoke. "Can't you see they're a disaster?"

"We can ask Om to do it," said Ptah quietly. "In fact Om can even disactualize all of the bombs and weapons that people's allas have made. Turn them back into air. All this can happen -- provided that one of you will help us on our way. It's your ability to dream that we need, you see. Human dreaming is a rudimentary reaching out toward two-dimensional time. If one of you comes with us as we travel out across your galaxy, then we can watch this person repeatedly sleep and dream--and we'll be able to sniff our way out toward the fat part of time. We need a harbor pilot, in other words. A native guide. So how about it, Phil? You can bring Yoke if you like."

A sudden mesh of alla-control lines appeared around the seven Metamartians. It was Whitey, standing at Yoke's side, holding out his alla and trying to turn the aliens into air. But at the instant Whitey said "Actualize," each of the aliens hopped off to one side. Whitey accomplished nothing more than turning some air into air.

"Senseless violence," said Shimmer. "How typical. What's the matter with you men anyway? We've been trying to calm things down, but it seems to be hopeless. All we're asking today is that an Earthling accompany us as we move on. We want to take one of you who knows us a little bit. If we simply abduct some random human, they'll be too frightened to help us. And not everyone can dream in the right way. Phil's our first choice because his dreams are just right. Om's been looking through people's memories. Those mountains you always dream about, Phil -- they point toward two-dimensional time."

"I can dream as well as Phil can," said Cobb, his voice loud and firm. "I dream about mountains all the time. Leave the young folks alone."

"The great old man," said Peg.

"He not human," said Siss.

"Yes he is," said Shimmer, cocking her head as if listening to an i

"In fact, Om says he'll be fine. She hadn't thought to look before, but her records show that Cobb's dreams are just as useful Phil's."

"Moldies dream?" Darla whispered to Yoke. "I didn't know that."

"Of course we do," said Isis Snooks, overhearing. "What did you think we were? Machines? I'm glad Cobb is doing this. It'll get us some xoxxin' respect."

"Come aboard, Cobb," Ptah was saying. "We'll fly to the outer atmosphere and power up to just below the speed of light.

Once we get enough readings, we'll chirp into personality waves and really be on our way. We'll show you how."

"If I come, will Om turn off the allas?" asked Cobb.

"Om is ready to do that," said Shimmer. "By now she has collected a complete enough set of human memories. She'll remember your race forever. She only hopes you don't feel you've been cheated once the allas are gone. But the constant killing and the explosions -- "

"I suppose we're too primitive," said Babs sadly.

"It's not just that," said Josef. "It's that one-dimensional time isn't a good place for realware. Some of your bombings weren't even deliberate. Apparently people have started setting off bombs by accident in their dreams. The more that people worry about bombs, the more bombs there will be. Your human dreaming is a risky business. Although Metamartians don't dream, we've occasionally had runaway alla misuse, our own epidemics of mass hysteria. But for us a global disaster doesn't much matter--because we have so many strands of time. No, I'm afraid that at this stage of your culture, and with your uncontrolled dreaming, your single line of time is simply too fragile for the allas. You do well to want Om to take them away."