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places. Instead of unwinding in intricate patterns of logic, lines of
existence twist and tangle. It is a matter of stress."
"How do you fix something like that?" Wendy asked the question without being
sure what she was asking about.
"By relaxing the Spinner. By soothing it. By helping it resume its former
natural rhythm. You cure such problems among yourselves, infinitesimally
minor, with medicines. There is not enough medicine in the universe to adjust
the Spinner's rhythm. It requires something much more powerful and elusive."
The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. "It requires music.
"On the line of existence where I come from, music is our art and our science
rolled into one. We are the consummate musicians of our age. And since music
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is very much a universal constant, something your people are only just coming
to discover, we can survive the crossing from one line of existence to
another. Among those of us who are considered gifted, I was the one chosen to
try to reach the Spinner to soothe it. To regulate it with song. I was told it
would be difficult and dangerous. In this I have thus far not been
disappointed.
"I am not alone. Others will strive to reach the Spinner by other lines. But I
was given the best chance. I cannot fail. I cannot assume that if
I do so, another will be successful. And time is growing short."
"And this 'Spinner' whatsis, it lives at this Vanishing Point place?"
Frank asked dubiously.
"Where else would the Spinner exist?"
"Beats the hell out of me," he muttered sarcastically.
"What happens if you don't get to this Vanishing Point in time?" Wendy
wondered.
"Then," Mouse declared solemnly, "the fabric of existence will continue to
tangle and unravel. Some lines will abruptly cease to exist, while many will
cross and intertwine, to the destruction and detriment of all." She moved
forward until she was standing close to the back of Alicia's chair. "That's
why the countryside here has appeared different to you."
"What about those -- creatures," Alicia asked. "Why did they attack us?"
"Because my journey is opposed. I was told it might be."
"So those things were after you, not us," Frank said. "Same with that station
attendant." She nodded.
"But if what you're trying to do is for the good of everyone, why would anyone
want to stop you?" Wendy wondered.
"Not for the good of everything." Mouse turned her gaze to the road ahead.
"There is Chaos. To it the tangling and unraveling of the lines of existence
would be a final fulfillment. Once, eons ago, it almost achieved this, but the
Spinner was modulated and the fabric of existence saved.
Periodically, small lines of existence do break or knot. Your own line has
several knots in it. Once, when plant life appeared. Again, when the creatures
you call dinosaurs became extinct. But these were only knots, not breaks.
Small interruptions to an otherwise intact and undamaged line."
"'Small,'" Frank mumbled.
"Each time a line knots, or breaks, or tangles, the Cosmos moves a little
nearer utter Chaos. When the lines are straight and smooth, when logic and
reason rule the Spinner's actions, civilization advances everywhere. Chaos is
pushed back, its dominion reduced. One day in the unbelievably far future it
may be eliminated altogether. Then peace and understanding may pass between
the lines, and all organized intelligence everywhere may come to know one
another.
"Chaos is a poor pursuer. Relentless, but by its very nature disorganized.
That is its weakness and our strength. Unfortunately, it has an ally. What you
would call Evil. In all its forms it serves as an ally and friend to Chaos,
for where Chaos reigns, Evil prospers. So Chaos seeks, by means we are not
certain of, to enlist Evil in all its forms to aid it. That is one reason why
singers such as myself do not travel in groups where we would be conspicuous.
Individuals can slip and slide and hide themselves among various lines of
existence, escaping the notice of Evil."
"That attendant!" Wendy said with a start.
Mouse nodded. "He was certainly searching for me, but my smell was submerged
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