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mechanics was invented by Schrödinger after he got interested in Hindu
principles Brahma extending continuously through the universe, organizing
itself temporarily in little packets of karma. So there is a question. What if
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our images of the universe simply mirror our cultural
conventions? Maybe each race re-creates the universe in the mathematical image
oftheir own belief systems. Of course, the underlying reality is the same, but
the way you organize it may lead you to discover different aspects, and to
build different kinds of technology. You understand? We may not have the
philosophic paradigms to understand this alien machine, or whatever it is.
Maybe we're like the archaeologists who assign the label 'ceremonial object'
on everything they do not understand." He turned to the window again. "We keep
calling this thing a machine, probably because it looks complex and seems
involved with magnetic fields. But maybe we should just label it a giant
ceremonial object and let it go at that. Maybe it is an objet d'art.
What if some future archaeologists dug up your Washington
Monument and assumed it was a machine, and then kept trying to analyze its
function?"
He banged his long arm wildly against one wall of the hallway, then the other,
and then the ceiling.
"Anyway, I think it's time to think ahead to something new. Now we know what
they have here. It is wonderful. I want to make something wonderful out of
this experience. I don't know what. But" he slapped Carter on the back, harder
this time "I think Annie wants you. It shows I was right, of course.
Her desires are beyond comprehension. It is your problem now."
In Carter's room, the terminal showed a message. It was from Annie. "Hurry. I
want you."
Annie was sitting on the bed. Everything except her posture spoke of openness,
of offering, of her own sensuality. Her hair flowed onto her shoulder like a
waterfall in a black river. She wore a blouse with buttons, half of them
undone. She had put on a full skirt, also with a row of buttons. They were
open halfway up one side, revealing her brown, smooth leg. She stared
intensely at him when he came in, as if she had been sitting for an hour
watching the door. Only her posture ... She was rubbing her arms as if she
were cold.
He locked the door and turned toward her. She whispered to him, "Shhhhhh." She
had put music on.
Slack key guitar from Hawaii, fluid as a breeze. In the midst of Earth's
popular music of violence, this was music of pleasure. "If they are there, I
don't want them to hear," she whispered. She glanced meaningfully at the
walls, the ceiling. The music filled the room.
"Here." She gestured for him to sit beside her.
He began to unbutton her blouse. She wore nothing under it. He caressed her
breast, her shoulder.
"I've got to go back, you know."
"Back."
"Home. To Earth. You know that, don't you?"
His hand did not stop moving.
"Wait," she whispered again. She took his hand. "It's nothing to do with you.
It's my life...." She was looking at him with an intensity he hadn't seen
before. As if shewere trying to get inside his brain. As if he were a patient.
"So I want to give you two gifts."
Carter said nothing. His hand was under her skirt now, where she wore nothing.
Whatever she was giving him, he would take. He ran his hand along her thigh,
and played with the buttons. One at a time....
"This time here on Mars, it has been an adventure," she was whispering. "Some
different universe. I'm sorry we have so littletime .... Make love to me. Do
what you want. Punish me if you want.... Maybe this is the last time for us. I
want you to see what you do to me. I want you to know that it's real, it's not
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just pretend...."
Their playing went on forhours, and the third time he made her come, she
screamed.
"Third time's charmed," she told him.
Still later, they were quiet, lying across her bed. "And now there's that
second gift I wanted to give you."
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