From: vagans@inanna.eanna.net   
      
   Zaren and Sourcerer walked down the path to   
   the car. When he saw how packed the back seat   
   was he exclaimed, "Oi! That's a several trips worth."   
      
   Sourcerer chuckled, "Wait til you see the trunk".   
      
   Zaren tugged at a bag.  It seemed mortared in.   
      
   "Poly would make a fine stonemason".  Sourcerer waived   
   him aside and handed him a small item.  He pulled   
   something that looked like a studfinder from his   
   bag and pointed it at the jam-full trunk. It emitted a   
   pale blue beam.  As Sourcerer scanned, Zaren looked   
   at the item he'd been given.   
      
   It was a small book "Extreme Car Camping, or   
   Don't Leave Home Without It" by Sweet Poly, 2nd Ed.   
      
   "The first edition had "Xtreme", but I think Poly   
   was embarassed by the neologism, and changed   
   it for the 2nd"   
      
   The "studfinder" began to beep.   
      
   "There.  That little blue stuffsack.  Give it a tug"   
   Zaren did. He could pull it out without effort, and the   
   other bags and boxes shifted.  Sourcerer did the   
   same with the back seat luggage, and they   
   began the task of carrying their loads onto the   
   porch.   
      
   "Gene?", Poly whispered. "Gene?", a bit louder. "Come help me   
   get this stuff into the house".   
      
   The parlour was piled with stuff sacks, boxes, bags,   
   and packs. Five sleeping bags, ten gallons of water,   
   three boxes of food...   
      
   "and a partridge in a pear tree", Zaren said as he   
   unloaded the last box.  Sourcerer looked over the things   
   Zaren had unpacked.   
      
   "Oh.  You were joking.  I never know what Poly might   
   pack".   
      
   Gene, Zaren, and Sourcerer sat in comfy chairs in   
   the alcove to one side of the fireplace where Sourcerer   
   has his chair, lamp and table.  It was a good spot.   
   Close to the fireplace, but out of the way, and with   
   a clear view of the front door and the kitchen.   
      
   "Oh no!", Poly wailed from the kitchen. She came   
   into the front room.  "It wasn't flour", she said.   
   "Or maybe it was flour, once.  Now it is something   
   else. She ran back to the kitchen. "Now its flour again!"   
      
   She stood before them looking grim and determined.   
      
   "There's a yellow sack by you, Zaren. Bring it with   
   you to the kitchen"   
      
   He returned and sat down.  "Poly's brought a   
   5lb sack of flour."   
      
   "At least three, I'd guess" Sourcerer said.   
      
   "Gene's brewing tea"   
      
   "I hope he's using the water we brought".   
      
   "We're having fry bread, beans, and salsa" Poly shouted   
   from the kitchen. "Clear the table, guys"   
      
   Afterwards they sat in the big overstuffed chairs. Poly   
   noted Sourcerer was slouched down, his   
   legs stretched out.  He did that when his leg bothered   
   him; he was limping by the time he and Zaren got   
   the last bag onto the porch, and he still limped when   
   he got up and went into the kitchen.  He brought one of   
   the kitchen chairs and set it down.   
      
   "Look at it closely.  You can see where it was repaired. It   
   got broken during the last Christmas party here. Now   
   watch.  This may take awhile."   
      
   Gene pulled a bottle from his coat and set it on the   
   table. "Something to warm us on this dark night".   
   Poly leaped up to get the silver cups she called "muglets"   
   from a bag, but Sourcerer waved her back.  "Watch", he said.   
      
   Two of the chair's legs cracked, splintered, and   
   collapsed. Three minutes later, it pulled itself together   
   and stood on undamaged legs.  Sourcerer said, "If   
   you examine it, you'll see no signs of it having been   
   repaired.  It will be like new.  This chair has three states,   
   new, broken, repaired.  I think anything that has changed   
   at any time in the Rancho can 'revisit' any of its former   
   states because the Meta Metaphor Machine has logged   
   it all, and for some reason it is cycling through everything   
   its logged.  Everything that's ever changed state here is   
   in flux, especially living things -- such as us.  Be careful".   
      
   "The main house, the Rancho Deluxe, its structure has   
   never changed, not since the day Poly built it, so I   
   think we are safe in here, but not from some things that   
   may be in here, like the chair. Right now, though, we all   
   need a drink".  Poly got her muglets, and Gene poured the   
   Cognac.   
      
   Poly curled up in her chair under a sleeping bag, and Zaren   
   began to nod.  Sourcerer looked at Gene.   
      
   "So, he continued is a low voice, anything that has not resided   
   here, not been grown or built here, might be able to do   
   what we cannot, which, at a minimum would be to buffer, or   
   redirect the Machine away from us, so we can get some   
   relief and think clearly"   
      
   Gene understood.  He took a last sip of Cognac and   
   bundled up to go outside.  He opened the door, stepped   
   back, removed coat, hat, and gloves.   
      
   "There's a white sand beach out there now.  Tropical   
   summer."   
      
   Sourcerer smiled. "Wait a minute and it will change.  I'd take   
   the coat with you.   
      
   "I'll see what he says about it"   
      
   "And then, Sourcerer said, we'll just have to wait for eyebrown.   
   His eyes closed and he breathed deeply, but he hardly slept   
   anymore, and wouldn't, he knew, until the Rancho was all put back   
   together again.   
      
      
      
      
   --   
     (__)    Sourcerer   
    /(<>)\ O|O|O|O||O||O   
     \../  |OO|||O|||O||   Mirroring the shadows of futurity   
      ||   OO|||OO||O||O   since 1993   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)