The Celestial Steam Locomotive (The Song of Earth) (20 page)

The Mole looked terribly vulnerable. “Suppose you don’t like
him?
”
 

“
I
don’t know.” Suddenly she was younger, an impatient child. “It’s a chance you must take.”
 

“Go ahead,” he said eventually.
 

Eloise sat beside the Mole and put her arm around him. She showed no evidence of revulsion. The Mole did not react. There was a silence. She laid her head against his. She closed her eyes.
 

As Lord Shout watched, Eloise’s expression gradually changed from puzzlement to astonishment. She said nothing for a long time.
 

“Well?” asked Lord Shout at last.
 

“I... I don’t know how to tell you this, Lord Shout. There’s... there’s nothing in there. His mind is blank. There’s nothing happening.”
 

“But he’s moving!”
 

“They’re just reflex movements,” she said gently. “There’s no intelligence in his mind at all. It’s completely empty. I’m so sorry.”
 

“Oh, my God,” said Lord Shout, gazing helplessly at his son.
 

“Nothing?” repeated Zozula heavily when Eloise reported to him. “You mean he’s just not thinking at all?”
 

“It can happen, Zo,” said Selena. “It sometimes happens to our specimens on the People Planet. The human element simply isn’t there, and we’re left with instincts only, like one of the lower animals.”
 

“I really thought he’d be able to help,” said Zozula. “I thought he’d have developed all of his own ideas without being distracted by the real world, so they would be based on pure logic. I suppose I really thought his mind would be like a computer. No wonder the Rainbow didn’t accept him into Dream Earth. There was nothing to accept.”
 

Selena’s gaze traveled around the Rainbow Room. The Rainbow was indulging in one of its ever more frequent tantrums, and jagged flashes of color sparked across the room, hurting the eyes. “What do we do now, Zo?”
 

“I don’t know.” The head Cuidador sat in an attitude of defeat. Beside him stood a waiter who had ignored his request for a drink and was, apparently, on strike. One by one the machines were breaking down, either because their programming had been scrambled by the Rainbow or, quite possibly, because the Maintenance Bay was malfunctioning.
 

Eloise said tentatively, “Can I make a suggestion?”
 

“Of course. Anything.”
 

“Perhaps you should find the math creature and get it out of the Rainbow. I had the impression that the Rainbow didn’t like it—that it was being sent into exile. Maybe it’s irritating the Rainbow, like a bad tooth. And if you get it out of there, maybe it could help you. It might provide the logical mind you’re after, to help you identify some of the programs.”
 

Zozula said slowly, “That sounds like sense. We’ll have to go through the Do-Portal and locate the Celestial Steam Locomotive. Then we should be able to reconstruct the math creature’s journey. Will you come, Eloise?”
 

“No, thank you. I’d rather travel in the Greataway with my own tribe. Trusting my existence to a crowd of smallwishers doesn’t appeal to me.” The Girl had explained the Locomotive to her.
 

“Manuel and I will go, then. The Girl can track us at the console.”
 

“I’m coming with you,” the Girl snapped. “You need me. I know more about Dream Earth and the Locomotive than either of you. One of your Keepers can track us.”
 

And so the Triad set out on their second quest.
 

Zozula led them across the kilometer-long Rainbow Room to a place where pink fog hung thickly. “This is the Do-Portal,” he explained. “It’s the gateway to Dream Earth and the rest of the Rainbow. I should warn you: There’s a creature on the other side who will ask questions. Leave the answering to me.”
 

“What kind of a creature?” asked Manuel.
 

“Just a computer thing called the Reasoner. A kind of guard.” He took hold of the Girl’s arm and led her through the fog. Manuel followed.
 

The fog took on shape and substance. Around them lights darted and flashed like tiny comets. Soon Manuel could make out a sad, gray face, hanging there unsupported.
 

“What is your purpose?” asked the Reasoner in a slow voice. “We wish to enter the Rainbow,” said Zozula. “Why?” “We seek a being of a special kind known as the math creature, and we wish freedom of travel in order to do this.” “I don’t understand how the Rainbow can help you travel,” said the Reasoner. “How will you proceed once you’re inside?”
 

Zozula was on uncertain ground and the Reasoner knew it. “I suspect that the Dream People accidentally hit on a dimension of the Greataway a long time ago. They use it as a plaything, but my observations have led me to believe that it involves genuine teleportation, similar to the Outer Think that humans used to practice.”
 

“You refer, of course, to the Celestial Steam Locomotive.”
 

“That’s right.”
 

“Transportation in the manner you suggest is dangerous and unreliable and has been proved addictive. It’s safer to walk.” The lugubrious eyes searched their faces.
 

“The possibility of success outweighs the danger.” Zozula had been through this before, many times. Cuidadors are valuable and so is the Rainbow, and the purpose of the Reasoner was to ensure that they considered all the consequences before passing on.
 

The eyes had swiveled to the Girl. “You have a neotenite with you. Her body is unsuited to traveling.”
 

“We know that. We will help her.”
 

“The young man is a Wild Human. He is nervous and bewildered. Traveling in the Greataway involves an element of Belief. He looks like a skeptic who might panic.”
 

“On the contrary, I’ve been amazed at his adaptability to unusual situations.”
 

“Has any of you traveled in this way before?”
 

“No.”
 

“Are you proposing to disincorporate?” The Reasoner had become interested. After countless millennia of asking standard questions and probing similar replies, he had at last been presented with a new concept.
 

“Probably not. I’d like to try as we are. If we disincorporate we become similar to the Dream People in status, which means that we couldn’t reincorporate at our destination. We want to
get off
the Train.”
 

“Has anyone ever done that?”
 

“I really have no idea.” Zozula made his voice offhand, confident. “I’d be glad if you’d let us pass, now. We’ve considered the matter thoroughly and, right or wrong, we are determined in our purpose.” This was the standard Statement of Absolution, which let the Reasoner off the hook.
 

“Pass,” replied the creature automatically and relapsed into its normal amorphous state, many of its cells expanding to gaseous matter and merging with the vast body of the Rainbow. A large proportion of the Rainbow is composed of tissues from terrestrial and alien creatures, organic matter being far more effective in the resolution of complex problems than the original and cumbersome conglomerations of chips and circuits—although these are in the Rainbow, too. A small part of the Reasoner remained coherent, wrestling with the implications of the recent conversation, devising an endless series of questions with probable answers for use if a similar situation developed.
 

The three humans moved on into a world of half-seen shapes, strange smells and odd sensations.
 

Zozula, in touch with his surroundings and experienced in the workings of the Rainbow, said, “Here.” A small globe of light swam toward him and he cupped it in the palm of his hands.
 

He concentrated...
 

First they heard the sounds, a distant rumble rising to a roar as the mists fell aside and revealed a vast, star-roofed chamber whose pellucid walls were lined with insubstantial gothic columns. It was a pounding roar with a four-beat rhythm, accompanied by a surging hiss. Manuel flinched as the others walked forward, and he held back, watching with scared eyes.
 

The Locomotive thundered in the center of the chamber.
 

The flimsy walls of the chamber vibrated. The carriages trailed behind the Locomotive endlessly, disappearing into the void. The squat chimney hurled smoke into space, and the wheels whirled in a flashing blur.
 

Yet the train remained stationary.
 

“What is it?” asked Manuel, still hanging back.
 

“The Celestial Steam Locomotive.” Zozula was not so confident as he sounded. “It’ll take us where we want to go.”
 

“It’s scary.” Manuel was a brave youth, but this was the first time he’d seen a large and complex piece of machinery in action. He could imagine only too well the result of falling into that churning steel. A thrill of primeval fear tingled down his spine. “Let’s get away from it, shall we? We could ride mules instead.”
 

“The Locomotive was made by men, so it’s much safer than mules, Manuel.”
 

“But... how does it work?” The boy watched a glittering piston shuttling to and fro.
 

“Some of the principles are lost in antiquity.” Zozula watched the valve gear too, but with awe and fascination. “I became interested in the Locomotive some time ago, so I did some research, with the aid of the Rainbow. It seems the machine is driven by heating water until it becomes steam, using a coal fire. The steam tries to occupy a greater space than before and pushes against a piston. The piston is joined to the middle wheels by a connecting rod, and the driving wheels are coupled together with another rod.”
 

The Girl fidgeted. Manuel asked, “What’s that big metal box, there?”
 

“The cylinder. This type of locomotive has four of them, one on either side and two more inside. That’s where the steam goes before it pushes the piston, see?”
 

“I see that. But what I don’t see is—what’s it all
for?
”
 

“For?”
 

“All this noise. All this effort. What does it do?”
 

“Well, I... Once there were locomotives all over Earth and they pulled trainloads of people along steel rails...” Zozula went on to describe a period in Earth’s history that he only half understood.
 

Manuel’s mind began to wander and his gaze slid across the platform, which looked as though it was paved with a white quilt, to the faint columns against the wall. It seemed he saw a figure standing there. Zozula droned on. His words meant little to Manuel, who couldn’t understand
why
vast numbers of people should want to move from place to place. The story lacked credibility, and he suspected Zozula had made it up to cover his lack of knowledge.
 

The Locomotive began to lose its terrible aspect and Manuel edged toward it while Zozula talked. The Girl stumped forward until she stood beside the great machine itself. The wheels whirled within a meter of her body and sparks and smoke erupted in a fountain from the chimney above. Steam hissed from the glands where the piston entered the cylinder and the din of exhaust was a throbbing roar. Zozula talked on, shouting to make himself heard.
 

Suddenly the Girl shouted, too. “No!”
 

“What?”
 

“You make the Locomotive sound fusty and ordinary and dull, no better than a mechanical llama.” The wheels had no rails beneath them. They spun above a bottomless void that dropped sheer from the platform edge. “The Locomotive is the most beautiful thing in the world, and at first it was the best thing Mankind had ever done. Everything about it is perfect and has its purpose, and the decorations add to the beauty of its shape, instead of hiding it.” Her fingers traced the brass beading around one curved splasher. The warm metal was vibrant and alive. “This Locomotive is the distillation of everyone’s idea of what a machine should look like. It’s composed of a million small-wishes, a million dreams of beauty.” Above her the huge boiler throbbed, tapering from the square-topped firebox to the black cylindrical smokebox. The boiler, like the cab and tender, was a warm green lined out in gold and black. Above the buffers sat a large brass bell.
 

“And the worst thing is,” said the Girl, “that this lovely machine is used to provide pleasure for idiots.”
 

Zozula looked a shade annoyed at having his discourse interrupted. Manuel’s curiosity had been aroused, however. “How did it happen, Girl? How was the machine built?” Daring, he reached out and touched the hot metal, which throbbed with a thrilling kind of life he’d never encountered in the village.
 

“It’s a legend of the Dream People,” said the Girl. “Zozula will probably say it’s all a load of nonsense. I thought it was real at the time, and I think I met a man who was actually involved in building it. Although Bigwishes make you forget most things, you know. Maybe it
is
nonsense.”
 

“Don’t bother about Zozula,” said Manuel. “Tell us how it came about.”
 

And so, standing in that phantom railway station in Dream Earth, the Girl told the Artist and the Oldster the story of the Celestial Steam Locomotive. And she told it accurately and well, and the Rainbow recalls that all this
did
happen, even though it happened in Dream Earth.
 

This is the story she told...
 

Once there was a man who had tried everything Dream Earth could offer and had eventually Bigwished himself into the form of a small child, in the hope that a new innocence would give meaning to his life, and in the hope that he could somehow build a solid background of facts and memories and events for himself and thereby gain a true identity. He intended to grow up slowly, the way children used to—to experience puberty, adulthood and middle and old age. And in the end, he determined, he would experience death. He would snuff himself out, Totally. In the space of a mere seventy years, he reasoned, he would gather a rich and complete viewpoint on life, far more than he’d ever achieved in his previous shallow persona, in thousands of years of cheap fun.