Read Online The Celestial Steam Locomotive (The Song of Earth) by Michael G. Coney - Free Book Online Page B

grant you a wish. Whatever wish you like, Big or small, without loss of psy. Does that seem fair?”  
    On almost any other day the Girl might have had second thoughts, but this day she said, “Yes.”  
    “Perhaps you’ll tell me what that wish will be, so that I can make the arrangements.”  
    The Girl smiled like the morning. “I’ll wish for Burt to love me.”  
    “Which Burt?”  
    “You know, my Burt. If you’re a goddess you must know the Burt I love. Please make him love me back.”  
    Eulalie nodded and vanished, leaving behind a machine.  
     
    In the transient way of Dream Earth, the Girl became momentarily famous. Only one person other than herself had seen the goddess in the Love Palace, and that person was one Richard, a notorious liar. But there was no gainsaying the Cap of Knowledge. The Dream People gathered around and examined it, marveling at it. They placed it on their heads, but here they were disappointed because it did nothing for them. One strange power the Cap had that made it unlike any other thing on Dream Earth: It could not be wished away.  
    It continued to exist regardless of the psy exercised against it: a cabinet with a helmet attached, almost identical in outward appearance to Manuel’s Simulator because both had been manufactured in an age of standardized packaging, millennia ago. The jealous ones hated the Cap because it belonged to the Girl and not them, and they wished so hard for it to go away that they exhausted their psy and had to stay in the Love Palace for weeks.  
    The Girl wore it every night, as the goddess had bade her. The Dream People gathered around to watch her sleeping—Johns and Abrahams, Runas and Raccoonas. The playboys and playgirls lost interest by the second day, but the good folks stayed, as did Those-who-were-Themselves.  
    Then, six days later, the goddess Eulalie appeared again.  
    Legend says she came riding a dolphin, but legend lies. In point of fact she materialized in the bow of a Spanish galleon that was rounding Cape Horn in exceptionally fine weather, which Eulalie herself had arranged. The crew were bored. Someone had just suggested smallwishing to the Arctic, but nobody was about to summon up the psy; it was too much effort.  
    When Burt saw the beautiful creature in the bow he nearly dropped his drink. She sat on the bowsprit, naked and golden in the sunlight, more lovely than any Dream Person on Dream Earth, because she willed it that way. She smiled at Burt and the smile seemed to spread itself around his body in electrical charges. He glanced around. The other Dream People were drinking in the cabins. He moved closer, smiling easily.  
    “Hey there, beautiful. I reckon you’re worth any man’s smallwish.”  
    And inside him the shy, real man cringed. Why was his Dream persona so damned obvious? The real man trapped inside was quite nice—which the Girl had sensed, of course. Which was why she loved him.  
    But nobody on Dream Earth can fully control his Dream persona; the personality comes with the body. So Eulalie went to work on him. She was feeling faint and the motion of the boat didn’t help, so she had to move fast.  
    “Maybe a real man’s smallwish,” she said. “I have no time for fakes. Bigwish yourself into something authentic.”  
    “Aw, come on, baby.” Burt sidled closer with a smile like greasepaint. “They don’t come any more real than me.”  
    “If you come any closer, I’ll wish myself away.”  
    “Hey, you wouldn’t do that now, would you?” He reached out to touch her.  
    She shimmered.  
    “Hold it!” Burt was alarmed. Eulalie steadied up. Burt considered. He did-n’t stand a chance, of course. His very make-up was geared to find an image like Eulalie irresistible. He argued, but quietly, so as not to bring the others out of the cabin. He pleaded...  
    He surrendered. For her sake, he would become Himself.  
    Eulalie hung on, feeling sick and tired but looking wonderful.