'Difficult to discuss details at the moment. You'll be doing most of it, Jake. But you need a slight nudge, an encouraging word, maybe.'
'I don't want to sound unappreciative, but I'd rather have a hot engine,' I said.
Roland stopped pacing and gave me an impish grin. 'I enjoy sparring with you, Jake. You give as good as you get. Better.' He chuckled again. 'You're really a very remarkable chap. Did I ever tell you that?'
'You never tell anybody anything, Roland.'
He nodded. 'You're right. I do play it close to the vest. But-' He dismissed the subject with a wave. 'We don't have time to discuss Roland Yee.'
His use of the third person didn't quite leave the impression that he was speaking of someone else… but there was a hint of that.
'Jake, I really can't give you details, but we will help. In fact, I'm coming along with you. If you don't mind.'
'You're going back with us? Giving up the Culmination?'
'Oh, no. Not at all.'
I shrugged. 'You're welcome, of course.'
'You're probably a bit confused.'
'A little.' I slapped him on the back. He seemed substantial enough. 'Come on. Darla will be glad to see you.'
We walked back to the trailer and mounted the ramp. I stopped to look at the Chevy once again. We had disposed of Darrell's remains. A bit unceremoniously, but then, he hardly deserved better.
Mysteries concerning Carl's magical vehicle still remained. Here-again! — was one of its many doppelgangers. This edition was, ostensibly, the one Carl had arrived on Microcosmos with, the one that had been stolen out of the truck. Prime had taken it, probably because he was curious about it, and had put it back. For the sake of my sanity, I decided that this was the best way to explain why Carl's automobile was still in my truck. For the sake of my sanity, I would avoid dealing with the notion that, after all, there really was only one Chevy. But if I took this one back to Terran Maze…? Well, really, I didn't want to think of that either.
Carl, or the design chief, had really gone overboard with the antitheft mechanisms. I wondered how we were ever going to get it out of here. Would using a crane or a winch activate the booby traps? Possibly, though they didn't seem to be especially touchy. Darrell had jiggered the lock for quite a while before incurring the lethal penalty.
Gingerly, I put my hand on the door handle.
The door came open. And I heard Carl's voice: 'Jake. You'll hear this if you try to get in when the door is locked, so listen up…'
I clambered in, listening.
'… this is kind of strange,' Carl's voice went on. 'I'm recording this as I look at you. You're stretched out, asleep, here in the Ideation and Design Facility. I thought about it, and I figured I had to find some way of allowing you to use the car while making sure it's otherwise theft-proof. The design chief says it'll be simple. If anybody other than you tries to steal this car, or even just fiddle with it, it's curtains. Deathsville. That's if they try to break in. If they do get in somehow and try to hot-wire it, or even start it with the key in it… or get this-even if they try to drive off when the motor's running, they won't get far. That device isn't deadly. I don't want a goddamn mess in the front seat. I just makes you want to get out of the car in a hurry.'
As I well knew. I had tried that once.
'So, listen. You're right here, so we can get readings on you, and feed them into the design specs. The car will know you, Jake. It will let you get in, start it, and drive it. Without a key, too, since I won't give the key to anybody. In fact, if anybody other than me tries to start the car with the key, it'll trigger the nonlethal mechanism. I figure, if they've got the key, they've killed me to get it. Okay. I hope I've covered everything…'
It seemed to me that he had overlooked a few possibilities, which possibly explained why I was able to steal the car with the motor running, yet got zapped with the nonlethal device when I tried to start it with the key. Why had the Chevy refused to recognize me then? Possibly because Carl had made the proscription against unauthorized key-starting a blanket one, just to be safe.
'… but if I haven't, well… hell, I can't think of everything. I'm not sure I understand what the hell this is all about, or all the flip-flops and crazy reasons for everything, but I do know that at some point you've got to steal my car. And maybe you'll need it if anything happens to me. But nothing's going to happen to me, so you'll never hear this.' He laughed. 'This is nuts. I'm nuts. Getting a little daffy, anyway. Okay, that's it. I hope you never hear this, but if you do… oh, hell, I guess I should erase this and just tell you. I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't. When you get right down to it, maybe I don't trust anybody. Not even you, Jake. I've learned, believe me. You can't trust anybody in this stinking world. Universe. Yeah, the whole universe is pretty undependable, when you get right down to it. Okay. I'll decide later whether to tell you. See ya.'
And that was it.
Sitting beside me in the front seat, Roland chuckled. I couldn't recall him opening the other door and getting in.
He said, 'I remember us sitting here, trying to figure out how this insane vehicle worked. Little did we know it had been designed by a paranoid teenager from the distant past, who had the help of some of the most advanced technological intelligence of the far future.'
'Funny how things work out,' I said.
'By the way-there was a reason for my suggesting you try the lock.'
I looked at him. In my version of reality, he hadn't said a thing.
The key beeped in my pocket. I took it out.
'Jake, something coming. I think it's that dust-devil business that chased us a while back.'
Roland was smiling as though he'd just brought off an elaborate practical joke.
'I see what you mean,' I said.
26
I spoke into the key.
'Sam, I'm in the Chevy. I'm taking it out against that thing.'
'What?' Sam came back. 'How did you- Never mind. All right, I guess it's the only superweapon we've got.'
'It's the only weapon we've got. Over and out.'
The ignition lock was set into the instrument panel on the right-hand side. There was no key, of course. 'Damn it, Carl,' I muttered, 'you forgot to tell me how to start this thing without a key.'
'I'd suggest putting your hands on the wheel,' Roland said.
I did. And the engine roared to life. 'Roland, how did you know that?'
'If the Culmination's good for anything, it's good for knowing things. Most of it's useless, but now and then…' He laughed.
I depressed the clutch pedal and fiddled with the floormounted 'four on the floor' gearshift until I felt the transmission settle into reverse, then craned my head around and backed out of the trailer. The Chevy hit the temple floor with a slam and a jolt. I jerked the gearshift lever around again, this time finding the top of the left upright on the semi-imaginary H, and rammed it into first gear, my arms and legs and reflexes quickly remembering all the coordinated movements. Once you learn to drive a standard transmission, you never forget.
I peeled out around the truck arid weaved in and around the many supporting columns, heading for the outside. I slid into second and popped the clutch, and the tires gave a short chirping screech like a yelp of pain from a small animal. I swerved around a sacrificial altar, dodged a partition, and hit an open area of polished salmon-pink floor that led to the vestibule. The place was immense, and there was plenty of room to maneuver. By the time we hit open air the Chevy was screaming for third gear, which I gave it, prematurely, because now I had to slow down to make the turn onto the side road. I downshifted, wound out of second gear, shifted to third.
'There,' Roland said, pointing to the left.
