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knobs and dials all over them.
    â€œThis is a matter disintegrator,” said Harry, handing me the purple one. “That dial up there makes the beam fan out.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œSondra, you take the pink one. It’s a demotivator. Makes things stop moving.”
    â€œOoooooo,” she squealed, and snatched her toy. Sondra was really starting to camp it up. She’d waited a long time to be beautiful.
    â€œAnd I’ll keep this green one.”
    â€œWhat does the green one do , Harry?”
    â€œIt makes time go backwards.”
    â€œOooooooo!” A toss of her pretty blond hair. Sondra and Harry were having fun. I wished I could relax and enjoy this, too.
    Three more rocks came flying down, one at each of us. We raised our pistols and fired.
    My rock shattered and was gone. Sondra’s rock stopped falling and hung in midair. Harry’s rock reversed its motion and flew back up to the rooftop it had come from. There was a faint scream.
    â€œLet’s fly up and meet our friend,” I suggested.

10
God’s Laws
    O N the roof was a gaunt man wearing a fedora. The rock Harry had sent back was lying at the man’s feet. Sondra froze him with the demotivator and we frisked him. He seemed clean: no weapons, no machinery.
    â€œCheck in his hat” Harry suggested.
    Sure enough, the hat’s sweatband hid a ring of circuit cards and microprobes. Apparently the hat had been feeding signals in and out of the gaunt man’s brain—probably for pleasure. The guy had the wasted air of a stim-addict.
    â€œOkay, Sondra,” said Harry, “turn off your ray.” Harry was taking chances, too many chances. I decided to break things up.
    â€œWait a second, Sondra. Just hold it right there. Before this goes any further, I think the three of us had better have a talk. What time is it?”
    â€œIt’s ten-thirty,” said Harry, glancing at his watch. “Okay, now, Sondra—”
    â€œWill you just let me talk? It’s ten-thirty. Does that mean we have one and a half hours left?”
    â€œYeah, that’s right. Thursday noon here matches Sunday midnight in New Brunswick. Everything backward, simple as pie.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œFrom Thursday noon to Sunday midnight it’s three and a half days either way, so—”
    â€œWill I still be able to fly after twelve?” interrupted Sondra. “And will I still look like this?” I turned away from Harry to watch her talk. The movement of her red lips. Her breathy voice. Her platinum hair. “Because I’m getting used to it, and I think I could do a lot of good for Scientific Mysticism. We have to be sure to go back through that magic door before twelve, Harry darling.” She batted her eyes at him.
    â€œYeah,” said Harry, slipping his arm around her waist. “The changes will stay, but the magic doors will stop working. Keeping them open is like a constant series of wishes. We could get stuck in this looking-glass world if we’re not careful. But don’t worry, I’ll teleport us all back to the door in plenty of time.”
    â€œHow about now?” I demanded. “While we’re still alive and everything.”
    â€œYou are so uptight, Fletcher. Don’t you like it here? I’m having fun.”
    Something dawned on me then. “This really is the perfect world for you, isn’t it, Harry? Of all the possible worlds in superspace, this is the one you’d pick even if you knew what you were doing.”
    â€œThat’s right,” said Harry, grinning broadly. The bright sun made his face look like a black-and-white photograph. The roof was tiled, with a waist-high parapet. There was a staircase set down into the roofs center. “What’s the good of having superpowers if you don’t have a world to save?” Harry went on. “Sometime during the next hour and a half we’re going to get to that