The Sky Is Falling

on had never felt that good in his life-or his former life. He reconsidered his belief that there was no delirium, wonderin

and he'd been sure he was on the verge of his second death. He could remember one moment, just before midnight, when she had stopped and see

oulder gently. She smiled and nodded at him.

ndered weak and shaky. But there was no dizziness, no sign of weakness. He had made a most remarkable recovery, and Nema

he night." She turned her back on him and took something from a chest beside the bed.

cles. There wasn't even a trace of bedsoreness, though he had been flat on his back long enough to grow callouses. And as he examin

own doubts. "Where

the millionth time you've asked me that, at least. And for the hundredth time, I'll tell you that you're here. Look around you; see for yourself. I'm tired of playin

ed out of

hing with a vague resemblance to a short hospital gown, with green pentacles and some plant symbol woven into it, and wi

n pictures of such things since the few silent movies run in some of the little art theaters. He struggled to get them on. They were an excellent fit, and comfortable enough, but he felt as if his legs were encased in hardened concrete when he was through. He looked down at himself in disgust. He was in all respects costumed as the epitome of the Hollywood drea

er equipment. There was a mirror hung on the back of it, however, with a big sign over it that said "Keep Out." He threw the door wide and stared at himsel

o the room. She pursed her lips and shut the

I am," he said. "T

him. "You're

ow, and I should know it. That face in the mirror wasn't it! There's a resemblance. But a darned faint one. Change the chin, lengthen my nose, make the eyes brown instead of blue,

difficult conjuration-and even the easier ones often go wrong these days. We did our best, though it may be that the ausp

dmitted, "I guess it could be worse. In fact, I guess it was worse-once I get used to looking lik

harply, "Ar

I gues

red the House of Sagittarius now. You can't be sick in your ow

it had a sincere, executive look about it. The man seemed changed in other ways, too. But Dave wasn't concerned about that. He was growing tired of the wa

erth ordered, without wasting word

bothered to check the condition of a man fresh out of his death bed. In any of the hospitals he had known, there would have been hours or day

he was in pretty good shape. Sagittarius, as he remembered it, was supposed to be one of the signs of the Zodiac. Bertha had been something of a sucker for astrology and had found h

-white jacket. He also had the half-obsequious, half-insulting manner Dave had found most people expected from their barbers. While he shaved and trimmed Dave, he made insultingly solicitous comments about Dave's skin needing a massage, suggested a tonic for thinning

hair and shaving stubble. Ser Perth was also interested in that, it seemed, since his eyes followed that part of the operation. Dave frowned, and then relaxed

e cloth with a snap and bowed

rror, and caught sight of the barber handing the bottles and jars of waste ha

trange purpose. And there'd been something about spittle. But they hadn't collected that. Or had they? He'd been unconscious

with the realization that this was another corridor. It was brightly lit, and there was a scarlet carpet on the floor. Also, it was a short hall, requiring

her hands. It looked like a cluster of colored threads, partly woven into a rather garish pattern. On a raised bench betw

r Karf nodded, as if satisfied, and Nema tied a c

sion in place of the firmness and almost nobility Dave had come to expect. His old eyes bored into the younger man, and he nodded. His voice had

m forward to stop in front of Sather Karf, like some clockwork man whose lever has been pushed. He stood in front of the raised benc

stating things in a dry voice as if

In your own world, you were nothing. Now you are alive, through the effort of men here whose work you could not even dream of.

world he had known. And his memory of dying was the clearest memory he had. "All right," he admitted. "Y

a world and culture linked to the one you knew only by theories that disagree with each other. And by vision-the vision of those who are adept enough to see through the Ways to the branches of Duality. Before me,

ligent man should b

r half is mandrake-a plant that is related to humanity through shapes and signs by magic. We make simulacra out of mandrakes-like the manicurist in the barber shop. And

bered now that she'd called him a mandrake-man before, in a tone of pity. He looked down at his body, sick in his mind. Vague bi

m. "No matter, Dave Hanson," he said. "You were human, and by the power of your true name, you are still the same Dave Hanson. We have given

been too many strange things to let him disbelieve, either. If they had made him a mand

ow-at the sky," Sa

dozen cities he had seen-and yet; not like any. The buildings were huge and many-windowed. But some were straight and tall, some were squat and fairy-colored and others blossomed from thin s

suggested again, and there wa

ked up o

city. The sky was-blotchy. It was daylight, but through the clouds bright stars were shining. A corner of the horizon was winter bl

her Karf. "What-what'

and there was fear and worry in her eyes before she looked back to her weaving of endless knots. Sather Karf sighed in wear

belied his age, looking down at Dave. There was stern comm

Your task is to put it together a

and Ser Perth led