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put Goethe in the slot. “Tell me about martyrdom,” he said.
    Goethe said, “It has its tempting side. One may be covered with sins, scaly and rough-skinned with them, and in a single fiery moment of self-immolation one wins redemption and absolution, and one’s name is forever cherished.”
    He put Juan in the slot. “Tell me about the symbolic impact of getting killed in the line of duty.”
    “It can transform a mediocre public official into a magnificent historical figure,” Juan said.
    He put Mark in the slot. “Which is a better father to have: a live coward or a dead hero?”
    “Go down fighting, Dad.”
    He put Hemingway in the slot. “What would you do if someone called you a rotten bastard?”
    “I’d stop to think if he was right or wrong. If he was wrong, I’d give him to the sharks. If he was right, well, maybe the sharks would get fed anyway.”
    He put Lydia in the slot. Lynx. His father. Alexander. Attila. Shakespeare. Plato. Ovid.
    In their various ways they were all quite eloquent. They spoke of bravery, self-sacrifice, nobility, redemption.
    He picked up the Mark-cube. “You’re dead,” he said. “Just like your grandfather. There isn’t any Mark any more. What comes out of this cube isn’t Mark. It’s me, speaking with Mark’s voice, talking through Mark’s mind. You’re just a dummy.”
    He put the Mark-cube in the ship’s converter input, and it tumbled down the slideway to become reaction mass. He put the Lydia-cube in next. Lynx. His father. Alexander. Attila. Shakespeare, Plato. Ovid. Goethe.
    He picked up the Juan-cube He put it in a slot again. “Tell me the truth,” he yelled. “What’ll happen to me if I go back to Bradley’s World?”
    “You’ll make your way safely to the underground and take charge, Tom. You’U help us throw McAllister out We can win with you, Tom.”
    “Crap,” Voigtland said. “I’ll tell you what’ll really happen. I’ll be intercepted before I go into my landing orbit. I’ll be taken down and put on trial. And then I’ll be shot. Right? Right? Tell me the truth, for once. Tell me I’ll be shot!”
    “You misunderstand the dynamics of the situation, Tom. The impact of your return will be so great that—” He took the Juan-cube from the slot and put it into the chute that went to the converter.
    “Hello?” Voigtland said “Anyone here?”
    The ship was silent.
    “I’ll miss all that scintillating conversation,” he said. “I miss you already Yes. Yes. But I’m glad you’re gone.” He countermanded the ship’s navigational instructions and tapped out the program headed RETURN TO POINT OF DEPARTURE. His hands were shaking, just a little, but the message went through. The instruments showed him the change of course as the ship began to turn around. As it began to take him home.
    Alone.

3 Fables: One
THE ABSOLUTE ULTIMATE INVENTION
Stephen Barr
    A Scientist was proudly contemplating his latest creation when his mother came into the lab. “I’ve done it at last!” he said. It’s the Secret of Eternal Youth—it reverses your age!”
    “It does what, dear?”
    “This machine reverses the order of the numbers in your age. You see, I’m just 41, and I was thinking that’s the beginning of middle age, so I invented this thing. You sit in the seat and press the red button. It’ll make me 14, see?”
    His mother smiled. “Yes, you always worried about your age, even as a child: except that when you were a little b«y you told all the little girls you were older than you were. I wouldn’t do what you intend, if I were you.” “Nonsense!” he said gaily, and got into the seat. “No, dear! Don’t do it! We went along with the deception, and by the time you were grown up you . . .” The Scientist shook his head, and before his mother could stop him, firmly pressed the red button.
    “. . . believed it, and the fact is,” she went on, “you’re two years younger than you think. Or, rather, thought.”

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