Mad Professor by Rudy Rucker Read Free Book Online Page A

talisman, and I’ll back it up for you before we go to Four Mile Beach.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” said Jory. Just like Superman, he trotted outside the building and leapt into the air, with Elf King Ira at his side.
    Jory made his way to Four Mile Beach, which had its share of surfers; the morning rain had brought on a good swell. But there was no sign of Bev Kuhl, indeed, no sign of anyone much over thirty-five. So, okay, maybe Bev had gotten lost. Jory spent the next hour buzzing all the surf breaks north of Santa Cruz, back and forth, once and then twice. Finally, as the sun was setting, Jory spotted a pup tent on the sands of a beach he’d already written off, Bonny Doon Beach twelve miles north of Cruz.
    He dropped down out of the sky next to two fit, fleece-jacketed young men lolling outside the tent in a litter of beer bottles, their eyes half-closed. Bev was visible within the tent, at her ease, resting on one elbow, calmly staring at the gold-chased sea.
    â€œFriends of yours, Bev?” said the more athletic of the two surfers.
    â€œLook out, Zep!” exclaimed the smaller of the youths. “It’s her old man! Don’t freak, sir. It was all Bev’s idea. She came flying down here, hopped on the back of Zep’s board out at the break, and—is that a monkey on your shoulder?”
    â€œI am King Ira,” piped the elf. “My rule extends across a full score of the subdimensions.”
    â€œAnd I’m Professor Sorenson,” said Jory. “Not her husband. Her friend. Are you okay, Bev?”
    â€œAmazed,” whispered Bev, smiling from the tent. “Tired. Zep was very lively. But hush, Una’s asleep again.”
    â€œWould you like to get rid of her now?” murmured Jory, hunkering down by the tent flap.
    â€œOh yes,” said Bev. “This has been a dream come true—but it’s not me. Really, Jory, I’m not that kind of woman.”
    â€œ Yeah she is,” said the smaller surfer. “She wore Zep out. And then she scarfed down every bit of our beer and food; not to mention the pot.”
    â€œAnd she made me comb out that goddamn tail of hers like a hundred thousand times,” added Zep.
    +   +   +
    Jory got the surfers to lend him and Bev their fleece jackets. And then he took her in his arms and flew to Elf Circle Farm.
    They landed in the mushroom ring across the creek behindGunnar’s old house. Following little King Ira’s lead, they began to dance.
    â€œThis is a tail-wiggle move I learned among the squirrels. Think of your spinal marrow as glowing jelly. Raspberry jelly.”
    Around and around they went, the world spinning. More and more alvar appeared, gnomish men and a few gamin girls. The ground within the mushroom ring grew gauzy and faded away. But still Una refused to leave Bev’s body.
    The alvar formed a circle around the two humans in the center of the ring. “You must return home in any case, oh Una,” intoned King Ira. “I regret, Bev and Jory, that you will accompany her.”
    Before Jory or Bev could cry out, Ira and the encircling alvar twitched at the fabric of space, as if manning a blanket-toss. “Zickerzack,” said Ira, and they were all in the subdimensional world.
    The corridors were like those of a mine, but with way too many directions branching off at the intersections. The glistering foamy walls were translucent, filled with melting jellyfish spots like you see when you’re falling asleep, half-familiar and half-unrecognizable, the shapes of thoughts, the fragments of dreams.
    â€œSet Bev free,” insisted Jory.
    â€œWhat will you give me in return?” demanded Una, still speaking through Bev’s mouth.
    Jory felt in his pockets; he had no silver or gold. All he had was his talismanic antigravity device.
    â€œHow about—how about this?” he said, holding it out. “As I understand it, each time you turn it off