Limp, the body of Gorrister hung from the pink palette; unsupportedhanging high above us in the
computer chamber; and it did not shiver in the chill, oily breeze that blew eternally through the main
cavern. The body hung head down, attached to the underside of the palette by the sole of its right foot.
It had been drained of blood through a precise incision made from ear to ear under the lantern jaw.
There was no blood on the reflective surface of the metal floor.
When Gorrister joined our group and looked up at himself, it was already too late for us to realize
that, once again, AM had duped us, had had its fun; it had been a diversion on the part of the machine.
Three of us had vomited, turning away from one another in a reflex as ancient as the nausea that had
produced it.
Gorrister went white. It was almost as though he had seen a voodoo icon, and was afraid of the future.
"Oh, God," he mumbled, and walked away. The three of us followed him after a time, and found him
sitting with his back to one of the smaller chittering banks, his head in his hands. Ellen knelt down
beside him and stroked his hair. He didn't move, but his voice came out of his covered face quite
clearly. "Why doesn't it just do us in and get it over with? Christ, I don't know how much longer I can
go on like this."
It was our one hundred and ninth year in the computer.
He was speaking for all of us.
Nimdok (which was the name the machine had forced him to use, becauseAM amused itself with
strange sounds) was hallucinating that there were canned goods in the ice caverns. Gorrister and I
were very dubious. "It's another shuck," I told them. "Like the ♥♥♥♥♥♥ frozen elephant AM sold us.
Benny almost went out of his mind over that one. We'll hike all that way and it'll be putrified or some
damn thing. I say forget it. Stay here, it'll have to come up with something pretty soon or we'll die."
Benny shrugged. Three days it had been since we'd last eaten. Worms. Thick, ropey.
Nimdok was no more certain. He knew there was the chance, but he was getting thin. It couldn't be
any worse there, than here. Colder, but that didn't matter much. Hot, cold, hail, lava, boils or locustsit
never mattered: the machine masturbated and we had to take it or die.
Ellen decided us. "I've got to have something, Ted. Maybe there'll be some Bartlett pears or peaches.
Please, Ted, let's try it."
I gave in easily. What the hell. Mattered not at all. Ellen was grateful, though. She took me twice out
of turn. Even that had ceased to matter. And she never came, so why bother? But the machine giggled
every time we did it. Loud, up there, back there, all around us, he snickered. It snickered. Most of the
time I thought of AM as it, without a soul; but the rest of the time I thought of it as him, in the
masculine the paternal the patriarchal for he is a jealous people. Him. It. God as Daddy the
Deranged.
We left on a Thursday. The machine always kept us up-to-date on the date. The passage of time was
important; not to us, sure as hell, but to him it AM. Thursday. Thanks.
Nimdok and Gorrister carried Ellen for a while, their hands locked to their own and each other's
wrists, a seat. Benny and I walked before and after, just to make sure that, if anything happened, it
would catch one of us and at least Ellen would be safe. Fat chance, safe. Didn't matter.
It was only a hundred miles or so to the ice caverns, and the second day, when we were lying out
under the blistering sun-thing he had materialized, he sent down some manna. Tasted like boiled boar
urine. We ate it.
On the third day we passed through a valley of obsolescence, filled with rusting carcasses of ancient
computer banks. AM had been as ruthless with its own life as with ours. It was a mark of his
personality: it strove for perfection. Whether it was a matter of killing off unproductive elements in
his own world-filling bulk, or perfecting methods for torturing us, AM was as thorough as those who
had invented himnow long since gone to dustcould ever have hoped.
There was light filtering down from above, and we realized we must be very near the surface. But we
didn't try to crawl up to see.There was virtually nothing out there; had been nothing that could be
considered anything for over a hundred years. Only the blasted skin of what had once been the home
of billions. Now there were only five of us, down here inside, alone with AM.
I heard Ellen saying frantically, "No, Benny! Don't, come on, Benny, don't please!"
And then I realized I had been hearing Benny murmuring, under his breath, for several minutes. He
was saying, "I'm gonna get out, I'm gonna get out " over and over. His monkey-like face was
crumbled up in an expression of beatific delight and sadness, all at the same time. The radiation scars
AM had given him during the "festival" were drawn down into a mass of pink-white puckerings, and
his features seemed to work independently of one another. Perhaps Benny was the luckiest of the five
of us: he had gone stark, staring mad many years before.
But even though we could call AM any damned thing we liked, could think the foulest thoughts of
fused memory banks and corroded base plates, of burnt out circuits and shattered control bubbles, the
machine would not tolerate our trying to escape. Benny leaped away from me as I made a grab for
him. He scrambled up the face of a smaller memory cube, tilted on its side and filled with rotted
components. He squatted there for a moment, looking like the chimpanzeeAM had intended him to
resemble.
Then he leaped high, caught a trailing beam of pitted and corroded metal, and went up it, hand-overhand like an animal, till he was on a girdered ledge, twenty feet above us.
"Oh, Ted, Nimdok, please, help him, get him down before" She cut off. Tears began to stand in her
eyes. She moved her hands aimlessly.
It was too late. None of us wanted to be near him when whatever was going to happen, happened.
And besides, we all saw through her concern.When AM had altered Benny, during the machine's
utterly irrational, hysterical phase, it was not merely Benny's face the computer had made like a giant
ape's. He was big in the privates; she loved that! She serviced us, as a matter of course, but she loved
it from him. Oh Ellen, pedestal Ellen, pristine-pure Ellen; oh Ellen the clean! Scum filth.
Gorrister slapped her. She slumped down, staring up at poor loonie Benny, and she cried. It was her
big defense, crying. We had gotten used to it seventy-five years earlier. Gorrister kicked her in the
side.
Then the sound began. It was light, that sound. Half sound and half light, something that began to
glow from Benny's eyes, and pulse with growing loudness, dim sonorities that grew more gigantic
and brighter as the light/sound increased in tempo. It must have been painful, and the pain must have
been increasing with the boldness of the light, the rising volume of the sound, for Benny began to
mewl like a wounded animal. At first softly, when the light was dim and the sound was muted, then
louder as his shoulders hunched together: his back humped, as though he was trying to get away from
it. His hands folded across his chest like a chipmunk's. His head tilted to the side. The sad little
monkey-face pinched in anguish. Then he began to howl, as the sound coming from his eyes grew
louder. Louder and louder. I slapped the sides of my head with my hands, but I couldn't shut it out, it
cut through easily. The pain shivered through my flesh like tinfoil on a tooth.
And Benny was suddenly pulled erect. On the girder he stood up, jerked to his feet like a puppet. The
light was now pulsing out of his eyes in two great round beams. The sound crawled up and up some
incomprehensible scale, and then he fell forward, straight down, and hit the plate-steel floor with a
crash. He lay there jerking spastically as the light flowed around and around him and the sound