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world like Earth. We're going to have to go somewhere with yard
facilities where I can have the damage properly fixed. There are a
number of neutral worlds in this quadrant." A holographic projection
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appeared above his console and he began studying it thoughtfully.
"We'll have to pick the nearest and hope we can remain inconspicuous.
The Oomemians have observers everywhere. We'll just have to cross
our zanzees and hope we can duck in, have the repairs made, and get
out again before they can locate us."
Miranda shrugged, plopped another french fry into her mouth and
licked the tomato paste and grease from her perfect fingers.
Something about the position of her head struck Kerwin as familiar.
"Hey, I do know you! I thought that first name rang a bell. You were
one of the finalists for homecoming queen last year, weren't you?"
She favored, him with a slight smile. "That's right. So?"
"You didn't win. I didn't understand why you didn't win. I still don't.
You were much prettier than any of the other finalists. You still are."
"Of course I am, but see, like, you have to do this talent thing also.
You know. Play an instrument or dance ballet or stand up there and
recite a poem or something. Now, I can do all that stuff, but it's like a
drag, you know? Besides, somebody asked me to go skiing that
weekend. So it was either the contest or the skiing, and I mean, like,
the choice is obvious, isn't it? I'd always rather go up to Colorado than
win some silly old contest. Why? Would you have voted for me?"
"As many times as possible," he replied admiringly. "But I wasn't
eligible last year. Only juniors and seniors can vote for homecoming
king and queen and I'm still a sophomore. You're a junior, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Well, that's only one year."
"No." She smiled unapologetically. "That's an eternity."
"I guess that means you wouldn't go out with me if I asked you for a
date, right?"
"Right."
"Hey, sister, you're out with him now. You're out with me, too, far as
that goes." Seeth was practicing his leer again.
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She glanced over at him, then back to Kerwin. "If you're trying to
think of this as a date, forget it. I don't go out with freaks and wimps."
"So I'm still in?"
Seeth looked over at the older man. "Hey, buddy boy, that last
appellation was for you, denso."
Kerwin frowned at him, looked uneasily back toward Miranda. "Hey, I
may not be on the football team, but that doesn't make me a wimp."
"Nothing personal," she said sweetly. "I mean, he's a freak," and she
nodded toward Seeth, "and he's an alien," a gesture in Rail's direction,
"and he's a," she glanced up at Izmir the Astarach, who eyed her
curiously out of his single blue eye, "well, nobody knows what he is.
And you're a wimp. It's nothing to get upset about. Like, we all are
what we are.
"Me, I'm a princess. That's just the way it is. Princesses don't go out
with freaks, aliens, undefinable things that change their shape, and
wimps. They only go out with Prince Charmings."
Seeth was picking at his teeth with a ragged fingernail. "Did Prince
Charming take you skiing?"
"You never know if he's a real Prince Charming unless you try."
"Then how do you know I'm not Prince Charming?" Seeth asked her
slyly, "or that wimpo Kerwin here ain't Prince Charming?"
"Don't call me that," Kerwin muttered darkly.
"Call it instinct," she murmured. "My perception tells me that neither
of you is even half a prince. Like, I think I'd be closer to the mark with
Izmir."
At this, Izmir let out what sounded like a burble of delight, grew four
wings and promptly fluttered wildly around the room, his color
changes running through the entire spectrum of visible light, and
possibly the invisible as well. It was doubtful if this could be construed
as a reaction to Miranda's comment.
"At least somebody's happy." Seeth nodded toward the plate in her
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hands. "Think I could have a few of those fries?"
"Help yourself." She extended the plate in his direction. "When they're
gone I guess I can always imagine up some more. I want that sundae
anyways." She pushed a bag in Kerwin's direction. "Want some
Doritos?"
"No thanks," he replied stiffly. "I think I'll hold off until I feel like some
real food."
She wasn't insulted in the slightest. "Suit yourself."
When she and Seeth had finished the fries, she used the synthesizer to
produce a double-scoop hot fudge sundae, complete with whipped
cream, nuts, cherry, and sprinkled cinnamon and nutmeg, all of which
she proceeded to down in a surprisingly short time. Even as he got
queasy watching her, Kerwin found time to wonder how her body
managed to maintain that magnificent figure on such a diet.
It was exceedingly unfair, he thought, and he said as much to Rail.
"Of course it's unfair. Why would you imagine it otherwise? The
universe is profoundly indifferent to individual beliefs and desires and
philosophies. On Prufillia we believe generally in Arch Noy Plasna,
which, colloquialisms aside, translates roughly as Nothing Gives a
Damn. Life is far too brief, existence is meaningless, and the universe
has no purpose. That's the way it is, folks."
"Pretty grim philosophy," Kerwin commented.
"The universe is a pretty grim place, my young friend. As I think you
are having the opportunity to discover. But that doesn't mean it has to
be dull boring. Each of us is here for a comparative instant and then
we are gone. The universe doesn't notice us when we're here and
certainly doesn't miss us when we're gone. We're all nothing but
unified arrangements of atoms and particles, drifting around, enjoying
consciousness every now and then for a second or so before splitting
up to become bits and pieces of trees and stars and french fries.
"As long as we're not transformed into energy, those of us who are
companion particles continue drifting through the cosmos, enjoying a
kind of fragmented immortality, one with the everything. When you
clump together, more or less accidentally, it might be as part of a rock
or another person."
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"Or a french fry," said Seeth as he finished the last of Miranda's fat-
saturated hoard.
"Somehow, that's not what I think of when I consider the possibility of
reincarnation," Kerwin muttered uneasily.
"I'm not talking about reincarnation," Rail said. "I'm talking about
what your component atoms become part of when you cease to exist
as an intelligent being."
"Hey, he did that when he turned six," Seeth put in.
"Blow it out your ear." Kerwin turned, disconsolate, and walked to the
back of the room. Strapping the food synthesizer sensor around his
head, he defiantly ordered a banana split.
Rail glanced back and smiled approvingly. "Now you're beginning to
get the idea."
Kerwin dug into the mountainous concoction with blind enthusiasm,
relishing every cool, gooey swallow. Even the bananas tasted fresh. He
wondered at the sophistication and skill of a civilization that could
synthesize something as complex as a banana split simply on the basis
of his thoughts. But then, maybe compared to faster-than-light travel
it wasn't so difficult after all.
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