"I'll construct a rather elementary fantasy world then,"he said finally, "and introduce you to some basic formstoday."

She smiled; and Render looked down at the myth whocrouched by her side, its tongue a piece of beefsteakhanging over a picket fence.

Is he smiling too?

"Thank you," she said.

Sigmund wagged his tail.

"Well then," Render disposed of his cigarette nearMadagascar, "I'll fetch out the 'egg' now and test it. Inthe meantime," he pressed an unobstrusive button, "perhaps some music would prove relaxing."

She started to reply, but a Wagnerian overture snuffedout the words. Render jammed the button again, andthere was a moment of silence during which he said,**Heh heh. Thought Respighi was next."

It took two more pushes for him to locate some Roman pines.

"You could have left him on," she observed. "I'mquite fond of Wagner."

"No thanks," he said, opening the closet, "I'd keepstepping in all those piles of leitmotifs."

The great egg drifted out into the office, soundless asa cloud. Render heard a soft growl behind as he drew ittoward the desk. He turned quickly.

Like the shadow of a bird, Sigmund had gotten to hisfeet, crossed the room, and was already circling the machine and sniffing at it—tail taut, ears flat, teeth bared. "Easy, Sig," said Render. "It's an Omnichannel NeuralT & R Unit. It won't bite or anything like that. It's Just amachine, like a car, or a teevee, or a dishwasher. That'swhat we're going to use today to show Eileen what somethings look like."

"Don't like it," rumbled the dog.

"Why?"

Sigmund had no reply, so he stalked back to EUeenand laid his head in her lap.

"Don't like it," he repeated, looking up at her.

"Why?"

"No words," he decided. "We go home now?"

"No," she answered him. "You're going to curl up inthe corner and take a nap, and I'm going to curl up inthat machine and do the same thing—sort of."

"No good," he said, tail drooping.

"Go on now," she pushed him, "lie down and behaveyourself."

He acquiesced, but he whined when Render blankedthe windows and touched the button which transformedhis desk into the operator's seat.

He whined once more—when the egg, connected nowto an outlet, broke in the middle and the top slid backand up, revealing the interior.

Render seated himself. His chair became a contourcouch and moved in hallway beneath the console. Hesat upright and it moved back again, becoming a chair.He touched a part of the desk and half the ceiling disengaged itself, reshaped itself, and lowered to hover overhead like a huge bell. He stood and moved around tothe side of the ro-womb. Respighi spoke of pines andsuch, and Render disengaged an earphone from beneaththe egg and leaned back across his desk. Blocking oneear with his shoulder and pressing the microphone to theother, he played upon the buttons with his free hand.Leagues of surf drowned the tone poem; miles of trafficoverrode it; a great clanging bell sent fracture lines running through it; and the feedback said: "... Now thatyou are just sitting there listening to me, saying nothing,I associate you with a deep, almost violet, blue...."

He switched to the face mask and monitored, one—cinnamon, two—leaf mold, three—deep reptilian musk... and down through thirst, and the tastes of honey andvinegar and salt, and back on up through lilacs and wetconcrete, a before-the-storm whiff of ozone, and all thebasic olfactory and gustatory cues for morning, afternoonand evening in the town.

The couch floated normally in its pool of mercury,magnetically stabilized by the walls of the egg. He set thetapes.

The ro-womb was in perfect condition.

"Okay," said Render, turning, "everything checks."

She was just placing her glasses atop her folded garments. She had undressed while Render was testing themachine. He was perturbed by her narrow waist, herlarge, dark-pointed breasts, her long legs. She was toowell-formed for a woman her height, he decided.

He realized though, as he stared at her, that his mainannoyance was, of course, the fact that she was his patient.

"Ready here," she said, and he moved to her side.

He took her elbow and guided her to the machine. Herfingers explored its interior. As he helped her enter theunit, he saw that her eyes were a vivid seagreen. Of this,too, he disapproved.

"Comfortable?"

"Yes."

"Okay then, we're set. I'm going to close it now. Sweetdreams."

The upper shell dropped slowly. Closed, it grewopaque, then dazzling. Render was staring down at hisown distorted reflection.

He moved back in the direction of his desk.

Sigmund was on his feet, blocking the way.

Render reached down to pat his head, but the dogjerked it aside.

"Take me, with," he growled.

"I'm afraid that can't be done, old fellow," saidRender. "Besides, we're not really going anywhere. We'lljust be dozing, right here, in this room."

The dog did not seem mollified.

"Why?"

Render sighed. An argument with a dog was aboutthe most ludicrous thing he could imagine when sober.

"Sig," he said, "I'm trying to help her learn what thingslook like. You doubtless do a fine job guiding her aroundin this world which she cannot see—but she needs toknow what it looks like now, and I'm going to show her."

"Then she, will not, need me.""Of course she will." Render almost laughed. The pathetic thing was here bound so closely to the absurd thingthat he could not help it. "I can't restore her sight," heexplained. "I'm just going to transfer her some sightabstractions—sort of lend her my eyes for a short time.Savvy?"

"No," said the dog. "Take mine."

Render turned off the music.

The whole mutie-master relationship might be worthsix volumes, he decided, in German.

He pointed to the far corner.

"Lie down, over there, like Eileen told you. This isn'tgoing to take long, and when it's all over you're going toleave the same way you came—you leading. Okay?"

Sigmund did not answer, but he turned and moved offto the corner, tail drooping again.

Render seated himself and lowered the hood, the operator's modified version of the ro-womb. He was alonebefore the ninety white buttons and the two red ones.The world ended in the blackness beyond the console.He loosened his necktie and unbuttoned his collar.

He removed the helmet from its receptacle andchecked its leads. Donning it then, he swung the haltmask up over his lower face and dropped the darksheetdown to meet with it. He rested his right arm in thesling, and with a single tapping gesture, he eliminated hispatient's consciousness.

A Shaper does not press white buttons consciously. Hewills conditions. Then deeply-implanted muscular reflexesexert an almost imperceptible pressure against the sensitive arm-sling, which glides into the proper position andencourages an extended finger to move forward. A buttonis pressed. The sling moves on.

Render felt a tingling at the base of his skull; hesmelled fresh-cut grass.

Suddenly he was moving up the great gray alley between the worlds.

After what seemed a long time. Render felt that hewas footed on a strange Earth. He could see nothing; itwas only a sense of presence that informed him he hadarrived. It was the darkest of all the dark nights he hadever known.

He willed that the darkness disperse. Nothing happened.A part of his mind came awake again, a part he hadnot realized was sleeping; he recalled whose world be hadentered.

He listened for her presence. He heard fear and anticipation.

He willed color. First, red ...

He felt a correspondence. Then there was an echo.

Everything became red; he inhabited the center of aninfinite ruby.

Orange- Yellow ...

He was caught in a piece of amber.