"Very well," said Turl. "And if their decision should go against you?"

"Then I'll retire, and you can be god," said Jarry.

Now every day when the sun goes down out of the purple sky, Jarry Darkwatches it in its passing, for he shall sleep no more the sleep of ice andof stone, wherein there is no dreaming. He has elected to live out the spanof his days in a tiny instant of the Wait, never to look upon the NewAlyonal of his people. Every morning, at the new Deadland Installation, heis awakened by sounds like the cracking of ice, the trembling of tin, thesnapping of steel strands, before they come to him with their offerings,singing and making marks upon the snow. They praise him and he smiles uponthem. Sometimes he coughs.

Born of man and woman, in accordance with Catform Y7 requirements,Coldworld Class, Jarry Dark was not suited for existence anywhere in theuniverse which had guaranteed him a niche. This was either a blessing or acurse, depending on how you looked at it. So look at it however you would,that was the story. Thus does life repay those who would serve her fully.

Devil Car

Murdock sped across the Great Western Road Plain.

High above him the sun was a fiery yo-yo as he took theinnumerable hillocks and rises of the Plain at better than ahundred-sixty miles an hour. He did now slow for anything, andJenny's hidden eyes spotted all the rocks and potholes before theycame to them, and she carefully adjusted their course, sometimeswithout his even detecting the subtle movement of the steering columnbeneath his hands.

Even through the dark-tinted windshield and the thick goggles hewore, the glare from the fused Plain burnt into his eyes, so that at