Hylozoic by Rudy Rucker Page A

wonder to give him a cartoon poke in the butt—
yow
! He lost hold of the vine and skidded onto a heart-shaped leaf as big as a town.
    â€œHey, Jay,” said the pitchfork. He bounced along on the viridian surface, coming to a stop, balancing on the butt of his handle. “This is far enough for today. Ten tridecillion branchings. You done good. I saw you drinking in that subdimensional glow off Art Zed. You slick, boy, you a, a—call it a zedhead.”
    Teeping down into his body, Jayjay did indeed sense something different. Even if he hadn’t made it to the top of the beanstalk, the beanstalk’s voice had done something to him. His thoughts were finer and more rapid than before. He felt great, euphoric. “Zedhead?” he echoed, laughing.
    â€œYeah, Jay. It means you can think longer and faster than other humans. You gonna be able to reprogram a hundred kilometers of atoms if you feel like it. Meanwhile I got some folks for you to meet. One of ’em is an old friend of yours. And the other one’s gonna get you hot.”
    Jayjay had no idea what he was doing here, so far from home, and he didn’t really trust the pitchfork. But he was feeling such well-being that it seemed like a beautiful dream. There was no rush to leave here, no rush at all.
    Stray tendrils and flowers from the beanstalk drooped down over the leaf, making a space like a festooned ballroom, quite empty.
    â€œThey’re comin’ real soon,” said the pitchfork. He rose up to his full height and set his tines to vibrating. Something like teep signals were beaming out from him—and immediately disappearing into another dimension. He was sending signals to the Hibrane.
    Beside a fragrant bean blossom a gleaming line appeared and unfolded at impossible angles to form—a tidy harp.
    â€œOh, why did you make me do this stupid extra jump over here, Groovy?” She seemed fretful and disoriented. “I still have to unfurl lazy eight on the Lobrane and the Hibrane.Well, I guess for this boy, what’s his name, that’s already happened, but, me, I’m just starting on my big time loop.”
    â€œThis here’s my girlfriend, Lovva,” the pitchfork told Jayjay.
    Oh wow. It was the same harp that Jayjay had played when he’d unfurled the eighth dimension some hundred days ago. He recognized her by her teep vibes. But unlike before, the painting on her soundbox was intact. It showed a pair of lovers beside a little blue demon playing a serenade on a golden harp of his own. The woman looked slightly Asian, with a delicacy to her features and a certain arch to her eyes. With a shock, Jayjay realized it was an image of Thuy. And the guy with her, could that be him? Beautiful. It was like seeing the solemn goddess of time bend around to bite her own toenail.
    â€œGroovy, I don’t approve,” sang the harp. “I know what you’re up to. You’re planning to betray the Earth.”
    â€œI’m lost is all, Lovva,” said the pitchfork, putting on an aggrieved tone. “It ain’t my fault if I don’t know where to find you.”
    â€œI’m on the other brane, Groovy,” said Lovva. Ill-tempered though she was, her contralto voice rose and fell in smooth glissandos that set the pitchfork’s tines to humming along. “I’m time-skimming. I already saw you there. You show up at the house of this painter who decorates me. I think his name is Hieronymus Bosch. Eventually I’m going to play the Lost Chord there. Apparently the harpist will be that young man who’s with you right now.”
    For just a moment Jayjay felt like he could understand how and why the Hibrane Bosch had ended up in the woods by his cottage. But then the gears of logic dissolved into the milky glow of pleasure that was filling him here.
    â€œThis is our boy Jay,” said the pitchfork. “I’ll send him over to the Hibrane directly. He already