void then.'
'Ah, Petrovsky. Yes, I see. I see.' The voice clucked mournfully. 'It all does seem to fit together, doesn't it? Marvelous bit of deduction, Jake.'
'Elementary, my dear shithead.'
'Please, Jake, it's been amicable so far.'
'I don't feel the least bit amicable toward you,' I said.
'I suppose not. Can't say that I blame you. And I must admit that I've bumbled through this whole affair shipping no small amount of merte in my cranial compartment. I made some bad moves.'
I was amazed. 'The real Corey Wilkes would never make an admission like that.'
'No? I guess not.'
'I have a question for you.'
'Shoot,' the voice said.
'Why did the Authority agree to hire you to catch me? Why didn't they assign Petrovsky to me in the first place? Or any other part of Militia Intelligence?or anybody else for that matter. Why you?'
'A couple of reasons,' Wilkes' voice answered. 'For one, I happen to be one of the highest ranking Militia Intelligence officers around, have been for years. I hold the permanent rank of Lieutenant-Colonel-Inspector. Plainclothes division of course, undercover section.'
I smiled, nodding. 'Sam and I always suspected you were an MI agent.'
'So you see, all this has been in the line of duty, don't you know.'
'Of course.'
'Also, the road and everything that happens on it is my bailiwick, and what with my past association with you, I would have been the natural choice anyway.'
'I see. Sounds logical enough.'
'And Petrovsky… if he's still alive. He's in bad odor with the Authority generally, by dint of his lifecompanion's having turned up as a double agent. He was hardly their first choice.'
'Right.' I took my legs down from the dash, sat sideways on the chair and crossed my legs. 'Well, what now?'
'Don't really know, Jake,' the voice said. 'I'm playing this strictly by ear. I suppose you hand over the Cube, then?'
'I want Sam back first.'
The voice was placating. 'You'll have him back, Jake. Don't worry.'
'If you've done anything to him…'
'I said don't worry. He's fine. I simply erased him from main memory. His VEM is in perfect working order and you can load him back in anytime I give the word. In fact?' A long pause. 'In fact, even as we speak, Sam is doing something strange down at the microcode level. Hmm. Now, how the hell…?'
I grinned evilly.
'I'll be damned,' Wilkes' voice said in awe. 'I sensed that this hardware had three-dimensional system architecture, but there was really no way I could… Well, look at that, look at that.'
'Anything interesting?' I asked after waiting a few moments.
'Very. This is really strange. If they had only had more time back at the garage… Amazing. What could he be doing?'
'If you can't take a castle by escalade,' I said, 'you dig under the walls.'
'Apt metaphor.' The voice did an approximation of an admiring whistle. 'Could he be setting up a simulation of his VEM in microcode? No, that'd take him years.'
I laughed.
'No? I don't understand-' The voice made a noise like throat-clearing. 'Well, I can see Sam is going to do his best to worry me to death at least, if he can't do anything else?so, let me do this… and this.'
The voice was silent for about thirty seconds.
'There, that ought to hold him. I hope. Wily old Sam.'
'I still want him back first,' I said.
'Now, wait a minute, we still have some bargaining to do.'
'Concerning what?'
'Little matter of that young man's automobile.'
'I was wondering when you were going to get around to that. You want it?'
'Yes, I think I do,' the voice said after a slight hesitation.
'Why?'
'I'm not sure. I don't think it has anything to do with the Roadmap affair, but it is an amazing artifact… and Carl's story about his abduction is very intriguing indeed. That machine of his should be worth something to somebody. I think I should have it to keep in reserve to sort of strengthen my bargaining position vis-…-vis the Authority, should I choose to deal with them again.'
I got up and walked to the aft-cabin. Standing at the kitchenette, I loaded the coffee brewer and started it working. 'The car doesn't belong to me, Corey.'
'Well, I'm not asking your permission to take it.'
I chuckled. 'I'd like to see you try to separate that buggy from its owner. You know how young men are about their jalopies.'
'Oh, I don't think he'll be too much of a problem.'
I reached for the medicine chest, opened it, and took out the aspirin bottle. 'Damn headache. Do you mind?'
'Let me have a look at what you're doing.'
I held the bottle up to the camera-eye above the kitchenette, then shook two aspirin tablets into my other hand. 'See?'
'Okay.'
'You seem to feel in control here, Corey, ordering me about and all.'
'I am, Jake.'
'You also sound like you're expecting help. If the Roadbugs can't find us, your buddies back there are going to have a rough time. That is, if they followed us through that last portal.'
'We'll see,' the voice said.
'Answer me this, Corey. Say you get what you want from us. Where do you go from here?'
'Eh?'
'How the hell are you going to get back to T-Maze or wherever you want to go. We're lost.'
'Indeed we are. But I'm really not all that worried.'
I popped the aspirin into my mouth, took a cup from the small cupboard, and filled it with water out of the sink tap. 'You're not? I am.' I took a drink and swallowed the pills.
'I don't see why,' Wilkes' voice said. 'You know you're going to get back, if the Paradox is real.'
'Then you're bound to lose in the end, Corey. I'll have the map.'
'Maybe. I'm still thinking about that. Maybe I really don't want the Cube. Maybe just the Chevy.'
'It sounds as though you really don't accept the reality of the Paradox,' I said, placing the aspirin bottle back into the medicine chest, and successfully, it turned out, palming the small vial of chlorpromazine tablets as I drew my hand away.
'As I said, I'm still thinking about it, but emotionally I suppose I don't. The way I see it, a parodox is an impossibility. Look what's supposed to have happened in your case. Your future self hands the Cube over to somebody, who gives it to somebody else, and so on. Darla finally winds up with it, and she gives it to you. You go back in time and close the loop, handing it over to the first person again, etcetera, etcetera, Now, dammit, that Cube has to have an origin somewhere! But as long as the loop keeps recycling endlessly, there's no possibility. There's no entry point. The Cube just is, and there's a smell of unreality to it all.'
I went back to the cab carrying a cup of black coffee. As I passed through the hatchway, an area that wasn't covered by any of Sam's camera-eyes, I slipped the vial into my pants pocket and cracked it open. I withdrew my hand, palming two tablets.
'I can't argue with you, Corey,' I said, sitting in the driver's seat.
