But she kept on pushing. She was not alarmed; rather, she was excited.
"Tappy, do you understand what I'm saying? This thing ' is big, maybe a third of a mile on a side, and maybe some kind of super-science can make it phase in and out of reality, but I don't want to be standing on its turf when it phases in! We'd both be crushed flat!"
She came up beside him. She pointed ahead, and nodded her head positively and vigorously. She urged him on yet again.
"Okay, Tappy," he said dubiously. "I'll warn you when we're at the edge, because-"
But now she was hurrying ahead by herself, and he had to lumber after her. "Wait! You're going to run right into it! Wait for it to cycle back!"
Too late. Tappy ran across the section where the wall had been.
Then the wall returned, and he crashed into it. The surface was diamond-hard, as befitted its brilliance.
Stunned more by the realization of Tappy's fate than by the physical shock, Jack leaned against the wall. Why had she done it? He had warned her!
As the horror deepened, he struck at the brilliant wall, as if to punish it for crushing that innocent child. Yet he condemned himself, too, for not catching her in time. She had misunderstood, she had not heard, she had The wall disappeared. He fell into the vacant space, automatically lifting the radiator clear, taking the fall on his shoulder and side. Pain lanced through him; he knew he had suffered an injury.
But what did it matter? In a moment he, too, would be squished so flat that nothing showed. For there was no sign at all of Tappy, 4lot even a bloodstain. She had been totally obliterated.
Jack lay flat on his back and waited for the return of the bright building. Somehow this termination seemed fitting.
Then there was light, but this time gentle, in shifting pastel colors. He blinked, trying to align this with his notion of death. Hands were touching him, caressing him; then a face was kissing him.
It was Tappy. She was whole and warm despite her wet nightie and sodden jacket. She was every bit as glad to find him here as he was to find her.
"But-the building!" he protested, holding her close. Again there were two levels of reaction: the sheer relief and wonder of her wholeness, and the mystery of what had happened. His body was- eacting emotionally, while his (I was floundering intellectually.
"If I may," a man's voice said.
Jack jumped, looking around. He had somehow assumed that they were alone in the afterlife, or whatever this was. Now he saw a nondescript young man wearing ordinary shirt and slacks, neither of which seemed to fit perfectly. It was as if the manufacturer had had another body style in mind. "Who?" he asked, at a loss.
"I am an agent of the Imago," the man said. "I and my companions exist to foster the well-being and success of this entity.
Because the Imago has assumed human form and has brought a human companion and is conversant with your language, we are assuming this form and mode of communication. Because the Imago desires your welfare, we shall treat you responsively."
Jack looked at Tappy, who nodded, feeling his motion. He made as if to stand, and immediately the man and another came to help him up. Two young women appeared, helping Tappy similarly. The women wore blouses and skirts which seemed to have been crafted by the same misguided tailor who had done the men. Their figures seemed good, but their clothing was making a valiant effort to demonstrate otherwise. The colors were all over the place, nothing matching or complementing well.
This simple action did not reassure Jack. The men looked ordinary, but there was a machinelike strength in their bodies, and their flesh was like plastic. He could see that the women, too, were inhumanly powerful, despite their appealing forms.
Jack found himself feeling light-headed. as if he were running without a warm-up and his system was out of whack, hands cold and pulse racing. He had thought Tappy was dead, then thought he would die, too, and suddenly everything seemed all right. He just didn't trust it!
He had a tendency to react when caught out of sorts. He did his best to control it. It wasn't just himself involved here; it was Tappy. When he had undertaken to deliver her to the clinic, he had assumed a commitment to get her there safely. As it had turned out, they had gone on a spectacularly strange journey.
Maybe this was the true clinic. But maybe it wasn't. He owed it to her to find out.
"Uh, Tappy-these are your friends?" he asked.
She nodded and smiled.
"Is it okay if I find out more about them?"
Tappy nodded again.
Jack turned to the first man. "Are you human?"
"No. I am what you would call an android or machine. We all are."
"An android, as I see it, is an artificial living man. A robot is a machine in humanoid form with a computer for a brain. Which are you?"
"We conform physically more closely to the latter description.
But we are sentient in the manner of the former."
"You mean you are conscious? Free-willed? You're not just a program?"
"That is correct."
Certainly it seemed possible, considering what Jack had already seen, a monstrous spaceship that healed itself, and a building that flashed in and out of existence without crushing what was under it. That cycling seemed to have stopped; once the building had taken them in, it remained firm. "Maybe we had better introduce ourselves. I am Jack. This is Tappy, whom you call the Imago.
What are your names?"
"We have none, but will answer to whatever you choose to call us, if the Imago agrees."
"Call her Tappy."
The man glanced at Tappy. "Imago?"
Tappy nodded.
"Jack. Tappy. And our names are?"
The urge to be flippant increased. Jack had to yield to it a little, or risk going wrong in some worse manner. Maybe he could get a smile from Tappy, and tide through. It hardly mattered whether these were friends or enemies: it was better for him to hold his cool until he knew for sure.
He decided to do it the simple way: alphabetically. "You are Abraham, Abe for short. He is Bartholomew, Bart for short. Are there any more of you?"
"There are six of us presently animated," Abe said. "Three of each apparent gender."
That meant that they weren't really male and female.
"Then the third male is Coleman, or Cole." Jack turned to the women. "And you are Abigail, or Abbie, and Bridget, Br'e, and the one I don't see is Candace, or Candy."
"Thank you," the two females said together.
"You sound just alike," Jack said. "Can you make your voices different, so we can tell you apart by sound as well as sight?"
"Yes," the two said, in different voices.
"Yes," the two men said, similarly.
Tappy smiled.
This was almost too easy; Jack hardly trusted it. "Look, maybe we'd better get changed, and then we can talk. I guess you folk don't have to eat-you have power cells, right?-but you know we do. So-"
.Certainly," Abe said. "Come with us, Jack."
Jack knew he would have no choice if Is will opposed theirs.
"We'll change, and then Tappy and I will eat together," he said They hesitated. Then Tappy nodded, and Abe spoke immediately. "As you wish, Jack."
They took him to a smaller chamber, where he stripped, winging as he flexed his bruised shoulder. "You are in physical distress, Jack?" Abe inquired.
." bashed my shoulder coming in. It will heal."
"There is no need to wait." Abe placed both his hands on the shoulder, one on each side. Jack felt a current, and his pain faded.