"There is no need to explain anything," Ka said. "All of us gathered here know that the spacefleets of Earth and Superbum have been destined to clash according to the immutable laws of dualism. We also know that Earth represents a lot of good things that we approve of, whereas Superbum is an incarnate process of evil and a really bad thing.

I think that it is superfluous to mention that it is vital for our own interests that Earth wins this battle. We are also aware that, as matters stand at present and without our intervention, Earth stands very little chance indeed. Are we all agreed that we need not discuss these matters?"

The other two beings signified their assent. One of them, De-Ao, said, "I also agree that we need not discuss what is obvious to us. Therefore, the only question that remains is what form our intervention should take and at what moment it should occur."

The third being, Maening, said, "My analysis agrees with the previously stated analyses. There remains only the question of what we should do, and when, which I need not state since it has been both inferred and stated."

"I am afraid," said Ka, "that we must not permit ourselves to assist Earth in any way."

The two looked at him in consternation.

"Earth must stand on its own," said Ka, "for reasons which become apparent to you if you take a moment to do some tenth level Fournean rationalizing."

The others did so and came up with an answer identical to Ka's.

"It is a heavy result," said Maening.

25. The Emergency Supply Service

"We supply what you need when you need it," Mr Monitor said.

"That is exactly the kind of service I need," said Mishkin.

"Of course you do. Everybody does. In today's world of increasing complications it's really too much to expect people to solve their own problems. They wouldn't have time left to do anything else. People should do their thing. Our thing is supplying what is needed to solve other people's problems. Your thing is presumably something else. We do our thing and you are able to do your thing. That leaves everybody happy."

"It sounds too good to be true," Mishkin said.

"It is," Mr Monitor said.

"The thing I need," Mishkin said, "is a spare engine part, number L-1223A."

"To hear is to obey. Are you prepared to pay for this thing?"

"Charge it to my account."

"You are a customer after my own heart. One spare engine part number L-1223A, coming up."

Mr Monitor showed Mishkin his write-ups in The New York Times, New York Magazine,and the Village Voice.All of them were raves. What better recommendations could anyone ask? Mr Monitor departed.

Mishkin sat down on a stump and waited. After a few hours he heard the noise of a motorcycle. He saw a man in a fringed leather jacket and a chamois beanie come riding through the forest. Strapped to the back of the motorcycle was a large parcel.

Fifty yards from Mishkin the motorcyclist ran across a land mine. The man, the cycle, and the package were blown to bits.

"Easy come, easy go," Mishkin said.

26

Mishkin was clowning along through the forest, digging the sights and smells and sounds, feeling the air, really making it big in a spiritual way. He had a song without words on his lips, and his fingers snapped in time to inconceivable rhythms. It was in this mood that he came across a man leaning against a tree.

The man's eyes were closed. He didn't seem to be breathing, but he didn't seem to be dead, either. His chest was bare and there was a small bronze plaque on it. The plaque read, TURN ME ON. Above it was a toggle switch.

Mishkin turned the switch.

The man's eyes opened immediately. He clutched his forehead and swayed out of control and would have fallen if Mishkin had not caught him and lowered him gently to the ground.

"Thank you, dear sir," the man said. "My name is perhaps Alex Gonkin and I am much obliged to you; though perhaps it would have been better if you had left me turned off, for now, with my consciousness returned, my fear threatens to overthrow the precarious sanity of my mind."

"What seems to be the trouble?" Mishkin asked.

"I heard the voice that said, 'In order to kill him, we must kill all of his hims.' I saw at once that the secret of survival was to conceal the fact that one's self was many. This could be called the first line of defence. The second line of defence was the presence of the selves and their intercommunication. I knew at once that my selves had to be killed simultaneously, or as near to simultaneity as possible, to prevent my selves from learning what was happening and taking appropriate defensive action. Do you follow me?"

"I think so," Mishkin said.

"Then you're crazy, and I stand mute. Now we will have a few words from my Accusator."

The Accusator lowered himself from a tree and stood before Mishkin reproachfully munching an apple.

"Thou shalt not turn on what has been turned off," said the Accusator.

"Listen," Mishkin said, "if God hadn't meant this man to be turned on He wouldn't have put a toggle switch on his chest."

"True… But in His ineffable wisdom God caused the toggle switch to be capable of being turned off."

"But God also put a plaque on his chest which read TURN ME ON."

"Exegesis is a dangerous conceit," said the Accusator.

"I didn't mean to indulge in it," Mishkin said. "But the moral is clear enough to me: namely that people with toggle switches in their chests shouldn't dump on you."

"What was that?" the Accusator shouted. "What did you say? Are you absolutely out of your mind?"

"What did I say?" Mishkin asked. "What happened? Where am I?"

"Your actions will be studied," said the Accusator, "and we will let you know the results of our deliberations."

27. In the Hall of Distorting Mirrors

Automatism can be induced in people. Indeed, you might say that automatism ispeople. We are under the control of our emotions. We float here and there on currents of what we want and what we don't want, what we desire and what desires us.

Still, take an object, any object. An orange. But the mind rejects an orange, it is round and orange — paradoxically square. Let's take something else. But now we are stuck with the orange. Thick, pockmarked skin. Any number of associations to orange, most of them banal. Orange must be struck from the list of permissible objects to associate to.

No more truck with oranges, and no more trucking of oranges. Oranges occupy entirely too prominent a place. Take an orange. We've taken enough oranges. The orange is a placebo of the mind. Why not take an intestine? Easily visualized, capable of producing many novel trips. But intestines are tediously labyrinthine. Intestines go round and round and come out orange. Intestines are filled with unpleasant matter. Perhaps it's best to go back to oranges.

Take an orange. Take it quickly before it takes you. The world of the orange is perhaps not entirely incomprehensible.

Take the subject of Mishkin and oranges. For many years Mishkin had not thought much of oranges. Apparently.But in truth we know that a thing's absence implies its presence. Thus, we infer the presence of oranges in Mishkin's mind, and from that we can begin to deduce many other relationships.