Michael Moorcock - A Cure for Cancer

The machine,' said Jerry.

She went to her wardrobe. There were three print dresses in it. She bent and Jerry looked at her thighs. She straightened, holding something black, square and heavy, and Jerry looked at her eyes. She widened them. 'Is this it?'

'This is it.' Jerry laughed with relief. 'Put it down. Aha!'

As she put it on the floor he seized her, running his hand up her leg and down her regulation drawers; kissing her wide, soft, hot, damp, lively mouth; running his other hand through her sweet auburn hair; guiding her to the bed and fucking her with enormous joy and energy.

'Well, that was nice,' she said. 'I always knew...'

'Come off it.' He gave her one of her Kents and lit one for himself.

'Is the box valuable?'

'It means the world to me.'

'It just looks like some sort of geiger counter — something like that.'

'It's a bit more versatile than that.'

Tell me what it is, Jerry.' She curled a leg over his leg and licked his left nipple.

There's no real word for it. Nothing — authentic. One of its functions is as a sort of randomizer. It can produce all the alternatives at once. There's a lot of power in that little box.'

'A computer? Multivalue logic?'

'Not a computer. Far from it. Almost the opposite, in one sense. It breaks down the barriers. It lets the multiverse — well -"in".'

'That isn't a proper word.'

'It's everything.'

'What's everything?'

'You're everything, Flora. But now you can be mirrored by your environment. It creates a human environment for a human being. It can also speed up various basic processes.'

That's an explanation?'

'Explanations shouldn't be necessary between us. Flora.'

There was a cool breeze and a neigh.

Frank stood in the open door, his upper lip curled like a mule's, his needle-gun in his hand. He came in and closed the door, crossing to the black box. 'I thought so.'

'You're so fucking high-minded.' Jerry climbed over Flora and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on his underpants and socks. 'You can't destroy that machine without risking the whole bloody universe going wild.'

'Isn't that what you want?'

'Moderation in all things, Frank.'

'You're a traitor, Captain Hargreaves. Consider yourself under arrest.'

Flora shrugged and pushed the bedclothes back with her feet.

Jerry crossed to the chair and picked up his shirt, pulling it over his head. 'Well, Frank, I think a certain equilibrium's been achieved, don't you?'

'You can talk of equilibrium with this' — Frank kicked at the black box — 'in existence. This chaos machine.'

'Oh, come now, Frank. We're not even sure if it has an en-tropic effect or not. It's an experimental model. That's how I came to lose it in the first place — I created the field and then couldn't find the machine in it.' Jerry laughed. 'Ironic, eh? I've got to test it. Find out exactly what it does do.'

'At the expense of society.'

'Well, that's how you see it.'

Jerry put on his other clothes and buckled his Sam Browne belt. 'That's better. You're always catching me with my pants down.'

'It used to be nice. But you know what happened the last time. What has this machine to do with Catherine?'

'Work it out. It's the creation of all possible worlds. It can channel energy — re-divert it — re-form it...'

'Bloody romantic,' said Frank.

'Who's Catherine?' said Flora. 'My aunt...'

'Our sister,' said Frank.

'Have it your way.' Jerry licked his lips. 'Still, this has nothing much to do with the current situation.'

'What is your relationship?' Flora frowned.

'It's become a little ambiguous of late,' Jerry told her. Frank had swung the needle-gun into line with his heart. 'I suppose it boils down to a matter of identification, in the long run.'

'Identity!'

Frank snarled and squeezed the trigger as Jerry dropped behind the chair and drew his vibragun.

'If either of us hits that machine,' said Jerry, 'we might find out a lot about identity.'

Frank hesitated then lowered his gun. 'All right, Jerry. Let's talk like rational men.'

'I'm not sure how it's done.'

Flora Hargreaves rose suddenly and threw the bedclothes over Frank's head. Jerry jumped out and thumped his relative on the back of his neck with the barrel of the vibragun. He fell down heavily. Jerry took the needle-gun out of the tangle of sheets and handed it to Flora. 'He couldn't bear it if you shot him.'

'Why?'

'Oh well. It's all a matter of ritual, you see.' Jerry uncovered Frank whose face had aged. He began to shiver, rubbing nervously at his arms, passing his hands over his head.

'I'm losing heat, Jerry. I'm losing heat, Jerry. I'm losing heat, Jerry.'

'And dynamic, I suppose.' Jerry pushed at Frank's chest with his vibragun. 'Move along there, Frank. Can you manage the box, Flora?'

Til have to get some clothes on first. And pack.'

'Wear your uniform. Pack your dresses. Okay?'

'Okay.'

Flora quickly got ready and lifted the heavy box. Jerry pushed the cringing Frank forward. 'We'll make for my convertible. We'll take you along with us, Frank. This environment isn't doing you any good at all.'

They descended the stairs, then descended the steps that led them into the square. Marines still stood about in the sun, taking a well-deserved rest from the dirty business of war. Jerry hid his vibragun with his cloak and the three of them walked slowly to the car. Flora got in the back with the box. Frank sat beside Jerry as he started the Phantom VI up.

'Where are we going?'Flora asked.

'Our first duty is to get Frank into a rest home. It's not far from here. A couple of hours drive. I think he'll last until then.'

Flora sniffed. 'You think so?'

'He is beginning to niff a bit, I must admit.'

When Jerry, Flora and Frank arrived at Sunnydale Reclamation Centre, Matron greeted them with some eagerness.

'You've done the place up nicely.' Jerry gave the rebuilt centre the once-over as they stood in the drive by the car.

'What with all the emergency cases coming in during recent months, Mr Cornelius, we had tae work quickly. Och, we've been that understaffed! Working with no proper instructions from administration... There's no much left of your wee mansion, o' course.'

'We have to cannibalize where necessary.' Jerry glanced sadly at Flora and past her to where he saw the shell of his little Dutch mansion.