The garden was gone. Replacing it was the flat desert he had wished for. Sand and rock, rock and sand, no plants at all, no shadows, the only moving things heat waves, the expanse as straight and as level as the tracks of God's locomotive to the unbroken horizon.
He felt as if he had just seen zero and infinity converge.
FOR a moment, he was dizzy. At the same time, he was numb.
His heart thudded against an icy shield as if it were a whale trapped beneath arctic ice and trying to break through.
Though he had lived through events much more outrd and terrifying than this, he had expected them to be strange and dangerous.
This one was completely unanticipated. It caught him as off guard as if his body's electrons had suddenly reversed polarity. Instead of a- ug, a world had been yanked from under him.
When his numbness thawed out, he thought, The AI! They must have some kind of telepathy! I wished for the garden to be replaced with a desert. And the AI, like Aladdin's genie, granted my wish. But they did it while I was asleep.
His question now: Had he and Tappy been transported elsewhere or had two worlds been exchanged? Or was all this an illusion? Or a dream?
Next thought: What difference did that make?
It was then that the AI, a female, came around the corner of the tent. He jumped, and his nerves clanged like the bells in his awakening dream.
"For God's sake!" he said. "Next time, give me some warning before you do that!"
"will," the AI said. Apparently, it knew what he meant.
It walked up to Jack and stopped with its nose less than an inch from Jack's. Its breath smelled like machine oil. That, of course, was his imagination. But it stepped back, saying, "You are uncomfortable because I am so close to you. Does this distance make you more at ease?"
"You can read my mind?" Jack said after ' he had nodded.
Despite the double jolt, he was breathing easier, and his heart was slowing down.
"Not your thoughts. My ability isn't like reading words on a screen. I sensed that you wanted help just as I sensed your uncomfort at my near proximity."
"What about replacing the garden with this?"
Jack waved his hand to indicate the desert.
"I'd thifik that'd take a pretty concrete image."
"Images, yes," the AI said. "Not words. I can receive images, though they're distorted. But I can unscramble them. Why do you need help or guidance? Have you thought of something which needs our help? Physical or mentals?"
"Not yet."
The AI looked up at the sun.
"An hour and a half has passed since you came here."
"Oh, well. Just hang around for a few minutes. I'll have it all figured out by then."
"That would be most gratifying," the AI said.
The thing would not understand sarcasm, of course. Jack said, "When I really need you, I'll transmit an SOS."
SOS? I don't have that vocabulary item," the AI said.
"And I'm wasting time talking to you!" Jack said, snarling.
"Begone! "
Without replying, the AI walked around the corner of the tent.
Jack hesitated, then hurried after it. By the time he had rounded the corner, the AI had returned to the building, wherever it was.
More of my precious time shot down, Jack thought.
The first day became the longest that Jack had ever endured.
Yet, when the sun dropped into the slot of the horizon, it also seemed to be the shortest. His whirling brain, a mental centrifuge, threw off scores of plans and many variations and combinations of these. None was worth anything. Each was weighed in the balance and found wanting.
Meanwhile, Tappy paced back and forth within the entrance room or walked around and around the fountain. Her burnt-umber hair and yellow dress made her look very young and very pretty.
And very vulnerable.
The upright and horizontal poles supporting the tent emitted light. Jack and Tappy took turns in the bathtub. For some reason, the AI had not supplied a waterless skin-cleansing cubicle.
Perhaps, they sensed that water and soap were more satisfying to the humans. They were not capable of perceiving that a sho'A,er would have been even more satisfactory. Afterward, Jack and Tappy sat down to eat. Jack tried to keep talking so that the dismal silences could be brightened. But they in number and length.
When they were through eating, he said, "You've been kept in the dark too long, Tappy. I havent told you what's going on because I wanted to spare you fear and distress. However, I believe now that keeping you in ignorance isn't fair. If something bad happens, it shouldn't take you by surprise. And, maybe, you could help even if you can't talk."
She lIstened intently while he told her the situation. He omitted the desire of the AI for him to use her love for him as a tool. she took it well, though she could not keep her face expressionless.
Shadows of fear passed over her face now and then like the shades of very thin clouds on the Earth when passing below a bright moon.
"Now you know," he said. He leaned over the table and took her hand in his. "I told you all this only because we're in a desperate fix."
She squeezed his hand, and she looked confused.
He said, "I know. It's all mixed up. There are many things I probably don't understand any more than you do. One of the most perplexing is why you still don't see and talk. The AI say they've removed the blocks keeping you from doing that. They also say that it's up to you to go ahead. You don't, they say, because you aren't motivated to do so. Is that true?"
She raised her hands and hunched her shoulders. That meat, he supposed, that she did not know.
"The AI have great powers," he said, "but they're not allpowerful or all-knowing."
For a moment, he was strongly tempted to lie and to tell her that he was madly in love with her. The ends would justify the means. After all, the fate of the universe was at stake. Corny as that sounded, echoes of thousands of science-fiction stories, it was true.
However, he was not deeply concerned about the I'ves and deaths of perhaps trillions on trillions of people. Not at this moment. He deeply cared only about Tappy and himself.
"If you could speak, Tappy. If only you would."
He heard silence; he saw tears.
Something rose up within him. It was a red flash flood that crumbled the walls of his self-control. He banged his fist hard against the table. Then he yelled, "My God, Tappy! We'll die!
What is it? What keeps you from speaking and seeing? Do you want to be blind and dumb? Do you want to die? Is there something in you that says you should d'e, that you deserve to die?
Even if it means that I die, too?"
She reared up out of the chair and walked away, her shoulders straight, neck stiff, her body seeming to vibrates with anger. Since she was familiar with every inch of the walkin space of the tent, she made her way to the bedroom as if she had 20/20 vision.
A few minutes later, he followed her. She was lying on her bed faceup, tears welling. He said softly, "I'm very sorry I yelled at you. I didn't mean what I said, accusing you of wanting to die, I mean. It's just that I'm so frustrated ... and scared. I am human.
Can you forgive me?"
She smiled weakly. Then she held out her anus. He went into them and wrapped his arms around her for a while. She sobbed.
When his back started to ache because he was so bent over, he eased her down onto the bed and straightened up. She reached out, picked up The Little Prince from the bedside table, and held it out to him.