Read Online The Celestial Steam Locomotive (The Song of Earth) by Michael G. Coney - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael G. Coney
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carp leaped from the blue waters of the moat, twisting to catch a glimpse of her. There was music in the air, tinkling and melodic. She walked on through the archway as tall men bowed, dark-haired and muscled. A courtyard occupied the middle of the fairy castle, and in the center of the courtyard a fountain played. People moved to and fro in stately fashion, left over from smallwishes—not real, but beautiful and dressed in diaphanous robes and adding to the atmosphere of the place.
The Girl stopped before the fountain. The waters rose before her, but never came down. They lifted into the clouds and became clouds themselves, tipping the castle spires like cotton wool, yet still letting the sunlight flood the courtyard. As the Girl watched, the rising waters formed a globe before her, playing over the surface in a thousand conflicting currents. A face appeared within the globe, the face of a beautiful woman, more beautiful than any man’s smallwish, with hair of finest silver threads and eyes of a color beyond the spectrum.
“What’s your name, child?”
“I have no name.” The Girl regarded the face with awe and admiration. “I am Myself.”
“When you have all of history to choose from, that is something to be admired. Place your hand in the waters.”
The Girl did this.
“Now ask your question.”
“My question is about the future. I simply want to know what is to become of me. Why am I here in this place, and why can’t I join in the fun like everybody else? Why do I feel it is so important to be Myself, when it only causes me pain? Why can’t I make friends and be loved? It seems to me there is something wrong with the world when the whole purpose of existence is to pleasure yourself until you’re sick. Surely there’s something else!”
“That’s a lot of questions.”
“Once I thought I’d found something else... I met some gloomy people in a small cottage. They weren’t laughing or drinking, and just for a moment I thought they made sense. Then they began to do the most awful things to each other, and they wanted me to join in with the whipping and slashing and crying, and I knew they were just the same as the others, only the opposite, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean. Define your question.”
“Tell me my future.” And if it will be like my past, thought the Girl, I’ll take a ride behind the Steam Locomotive, that’s what I’ll do!
“You are aware that the Ifalong is not the same as the future. The future is a myth, because it is nothing until it happens, and then it is already the past. I cannot predict your future, but I can foretell your Ifalong. Will that suit you?”
“Yes, thank you.” The Girl watched as the beautiful face shimmered and the waters bathed its surface more frequently, little streams spinning in countless directions yet never clashing, never splashing.
At last the face cleared. “This is your Ifalong. The greatest probability is that you will find love, knowledge, fame, beauty and an identity.”
“Is that all?” asked the Girl, after the Oracle had been silent for some moments. “I could have all that with a Bigwish.”
“The Ifalong does not permit details. Only the general course of events can be foretold. That is all.” The face was gone, and the fountain became once more a slender column ascending to the sky.
For a while the Girl watched it, disappointed. Then, as the attendants began to usher her back over the drawbridge, she said quietly to herself, Maybe there is nothing more. Maybe this is it, this is what it’s all about . And she small-wished, and found herself standing outside the Love Palace. Sometimes the Love Palace was a catharsis even for her.
When Eulalie Came Down
As she entered, the Girl was wondering just how she could persuade Burt to become Himself. It would take a Bigwish, and Burt was a very active person,
The Girl stopped before the fountain. The waters rose before her, but never came down. They lifted into the clouds and became clouds themselves, tipping the castle spires like cotton wool, yet still letting the sunlight flood the courtyard. As the Girl watched, the rising waters formed a globe before her, playing over the surface in a thousand conflicting currents. A face appeared within the globe, the face of a beautiful woman, more beautiful than any man’s smallwish, with hair of finest silver threads and eyes of a color beyond the spectrum.
“What’s your name, child?”
“I have no name.” The Girl regarded the face with awe and admiration. “I am Myself.”
“When you have all of history to choose from, that is something to be admired. Place your hand in the waters.”
The Girl did this.
“Now ask your question.”
“My question is about the future. I simply want to know what is to become of me. Why am I here in this place, and why can’t I join in the fun like everybody else? Why do I feel it is so important to be Myself, when it only causes me pain? Why can’t I make friends and be loved? It seems to me there is something wrong with the world when the whole purpose of existence is to pleasure yourself until you’re sick. Surely there’s something else!”
“That’s a lot of questions.”
“Once I thought I’d found something else... I met some gloomy people in a small cottage. They weren’t laughing or drinking, and just for a moment I thought they made sense. Then they began to do the most awful things to each other, and they wanted me to join in with the whipping and slashing and crying, and I knew they were just the same as the others, only the opposite, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean. Define your question.”
“Tell me my future.” And if it will be like my past, thought the Girl, I’ll take a ride behind the Steam Locomotive, that’s what I’ll do!
“You are aware that the Ifalong is not the same as the future. The future is a myth, because it is nothing until it happens, and then it is already the past. I cannot predict your future, but I can foretell your Ifalong. Will that suit you?”
“Yes, thank you.” The Girl watched as the beautiful face shimmered and the waters bathed its surface more frequently, little streams spinning in countless directions yet never clashing, never splashing.
At last the face cleared. “This is your Ifalong. The greatest probability is that you will find love, knowledge, fame, beauty and an identity.”
“Is that all?” asked the Girl, after the Oracle had been silent for some moments. “I could have all that with a Bigwish.”
“The Ifalong does not permit details. Only the general course of events can be foretold. That is all.” The face was gone, and the fountain became once more a slender column ascending to the sky.
For a while the Girl watched it, disappointed. Then, as the attendants began to usher her back over the drawbridge, she said quietly to herself, Maybe there is nothing more. Maybe this is it, this is what it’s all about . And she small-wished, and found herself standing outside the Love Palace. Sometimes the Love Palace was a catharsis even for her.
When Eulalie Came Down
As she entered, the Girl was wondering just how she could persuade Burt to become Himself. It would take a Bigwish, and Burt was a very active person,
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