LAST TRAIN              "But Old General Ven, he be tryin to
                                        call `em back. that high-rankin' ole
               by Lou Crago             sumbitch, he all the time tryin to
                                        yank `em back down. He a Motor Man,
             Copyright(c)1992           thas why.  All Motor Mans, first to
                                        lass, is bad!"

On the trak, there was nothin' for the babies to do but jes rest they minds. They be trandscendin' the worlds - all the worlds that anybody evah thought of. They don't have to be thinkin' bout nothing' at all anymore.

But Old General Ven, he be tryin to call `em back. that high-rankin' ole sumbitch, he all the time tryin to yank `em back down. He a Motor Man, thas why. All Motor Mans, first to lass, is bad!

Them babies rollin around on the trak, and they payin no mind to Old Ven. And ever time he come, he try to get `em down, but they not lissnen. And after while he give up, and he come over to where I'm layin on the floor, and he say all that metal talk at me. And when I don't answer back, he give me a kick in mah ribs. Then he go out the place and the door shut behind him and you hear them magnetic bolts lockin into place.

Most times, I jes lay there and watch them babies. I watch `em rollin, cause I can see `em. Old Ven, he know I can see `em, and it make him mad as hell - cause he can't. He a Motor Man, he ain't got livin eyes, not like me. I guess thas why he keep on lettin' me live. He kick me sometimes, but he won't kill me. If he kill me, he know he won't never get them babies!

I lie and watch long through the night, and them babies they shining in mah mind, they like the sunrise what used to come on this here planet, they like what used to be stars in the night. They singing too - not like any song, not `zactly a sound, but I hears `em. And when them babies sing, it sho do grab me.

Then I got to fight like hell not to think of the way it wuz. I got to fight to stay steady just like I is now, and keep on bein just what I done decided to be. I can't even think one single thought that ain't in line with that, else them Motor Mens be tracin it on machines they got. So I lie still and lissen to them babies singing, and if I think `bout anything, I be dam sure it's somethin like feels good to be scratching fleas, or how tasty corn pone is with molasses poured on it. Stuff like that.

And it's been near about fifteen days now, but I doin it so good that Old Ven and them other Motor Mens ain't picked up a thing yet. And mah babies, they safe on the trak where Old Ven, even he do be a General and got all his science mens with him, he can't get `em down. No sir, long as theys on the trak, they gone! They got no bodies, they got no minds, they got nuthin he can grab hold of, nuthin he can download. And it `bout to drive Old Ven and them crazy. I lie there, and I'm anxious as hell, but all the time I be laffin too.

We ain't safe yet, no way. There be one of them babies ain't restin her mind too good, she sometime lose hold of what's happenin. And she come down a little bit then, and she sorta like hang her head down over the trak. And she be callin out, wantin' to know if it maybe it be good to come down to the world again, like Old Ven been sayin' over and over. She startin' to innerface again, with this damned world she don't even know is trashed.

I calls her Glo, and I says, "Glo, you git back! Long as I'm here, you ain't no way comin down! So don't be thinkin `bout it. You go back to restin yo mind!"

She say, "I remember things. I remember."

And the more she remember, the more she start to take on shape. And I got to nip that in the bud right there, damn quick!.

So I say, "Glo, git on back now! What's the use of me bein here, and layin on this hard floor night after night like a old dog, if you gonna fool around that way? If you let Old Ven talk you down, then he gonna kill me. That what you want?"

She say, "I'll go back, but talk to me a little first, Gabriel. When I start remembering things, I get so terribly lonely."

I say, "Okay, Honey, we chat a little bit. But then you go back to restin' yo mind on nuthin, like them others."

She say, "How many of us are there, Gabriel?" She axed me this question before, but I got to tell her again and again `cause when she outta mind she can't remember.

"They's twenty-four of you," I reminds her. "You a dozen positive and a dozen negative. And you is the last ones on this here planet, so you gotta remember that, okay?"

"I'll remember," she say. But she sounding sleepy and dreamy, and I know she `bout ready to go back. Which is fine, `cause no matter how much pleasure I might git outta chattin, it ain't good for her to be thinkin and talkin. If Old Ven come in while she in her mind, then it'a be hell to pay. Then if she take a form, he be able to grab her. Then we all be up shit creek.

She say, "I wanted to ask you, Gabriel..."

" `Bout what, Honey?"

"How is it that you're in a body? Why didn't you die... like all the others?"

But she startin to lose her mind shape right then, and in a minnit she back on the trak restin along with them others, and she be transcendin all the worlds. I hates to lose her company, but all the same I give a sigh of relief. Now we all safe for another night. Nothin won't be happenin on this here world.

It weren't even mornin yet. Old Ven he come in, and a bunch of Motor Mens followin him, and they makin their metal talk. They walks up and down, up and down, and they starin at the track, and they hookin up wires and makin beeps. But after a while they sees it ain't doin no good. No way can they access them babies.

So Old Ven he come over to where I'm layin and this time he don't kick, he squats down and he stares. Then he start in to talkin at me. He know I don't unnerstand no metal talk, I be too low a form, but he keep on. He lookin' at mah eyes, and he even tryin' to smile - which is a pitiful sight on the face of a Motor Man, lemmie tell you! - and then he waitin for me to feedback.

But I ain't sayin nothin, `cause by now there ain't nothin for me to say to the likes of him. Things is the way they is: the babies is the last ones, and the Motor Mans is stranded, and we all here in it together. He gonna keep tryin to git them babies, and I'm gonna keep tryin to make damn sure he don't so there ain't nothin to be said. Old Ven, he know this good as I do.

Then, I guess he make up his mind to do somethin he ain't tried before. He grab me up and start walkin out the door of that room with me. But `bout that time the trak commence to shiver and shake, and it makin' a terrible whine, and the babies rollin faster and faster. `Cause me and them babies, we linked up. We been linked up all through time, whatever shape we be in. Back before the end, half the time them babies didn't even know it - they just goin along, bein first one thing and then another, and they ain't studyin `bout no linkup. And me, I be lookin like whatever I done decide to look like, and most the time them babies ain't catchin on to who or whut I wuz. But that don't make no nevermind, `cause we got the link. We got the synchronous wave goin, we ain't never outta touch with each other. So when Old Ven he try to take me outta there and do somethin bad to me, them babies they feelin it and they commencin to waller around.

So Old Ven he see he can't do it that way or them babies gonna go clean out they minds. And maybe they quit lyin there all nice in a row, hummin that soft song, and maybe they start to go crazy and throw theyselfs around. If all twenty-four of `em gits crazy and raisin hell all at once, that old trak ain't gonna stand the pressure, it'a break sure as hell! Them babies, they got power they don't even know theyselfs how much power, `cause they keep on forgettin.

But ah know.

And Old Ven, he know. Him and his science mens, they smart enough to figure out about the trak, `cause they seen ones just like it on them other planets. And they smart enough to build this here magnetic room to hold it, knowin its the attractor for them babies, and they gonna come straight to it when everthing else break down. But Old Ven he also know he got to play it easy, else he end up with nothin - the trak broke, and them babies withered up and dead, not fit to make no shapes a'tall.

So he put me back down on the floor and he wave his hand to them other Motor Mens. They come over and they holdin me down, pretendin they gonna be easy like, but they starts in puttin' them wires on me, stickin `em in with little bitty pins. They got me wired through everplace they can, and it ain't hurtin too much. But it's makin somethin rise in me, they's a rushin feelin in me, and they's sparks startin to jump out from all over mah hide.

So I have to hold real still, and keep on thinkin to myself over and over how I ain't gonna change my shape, how I ain't gonna let `em shake me loose from this here form I took on, which is what I made up mah mind to be, back when the end done come.

They pumpin the juice through them wires and the sparks is jumpin out, and Old Ven he come and hunker down on the floor beside me and he start to talk at me again.

He say, "Our readings show that you are not at all a primitive vertebrate, as you have the appearance. You are a Monad, merely taking this shape."

I keepin' myself real still. I tellin' mahself over and over the way I wants it to be.

Old Ven he nod to them Motor Mens and they pour on more juice, and them wires in me they start to heat up. They stingin like wasps used to be, and then they burnin like red-hot needles, but I go on tellin mahself I got to stand it, `cause they's no way I'm lettin him get them babies.

Well...they keep on doin it for a long time, a damn long time. Finally, he tell `em shut off the juice, and he let me drink a little water from a tube he got.

He say, "The drink will make you feel at ease."

That drink taste funny, but it do in fact make me feel a whole lot better. Then he give me some more. And then they start pumpin the juice through them wires again, but now they ain't hurtin a'tall. Everwhere on me that one of them wires is pinned through, there's a fine feelin, like starting to tremble with some kinda crazy joy, starting to roll with it, startin to take it on home, so fine that I can`t stop.

Old Ven's talkin through the waves risin in me, and he sound so fine and mellow and like he mah friend, and he say, "Now, tell me who you are. Tell me what your name is."

I ain't wantin to say nothin to Ven, but it sorta leak outta me without my knowin. "I be Gabriel, boss."

He say, "Tell me now, what form did you have before the destruction?"

I tryin to sort of growl but it come out a whine, and I can't keep mahself from answerin. "Wuz humanoid, boss."

Old Ven say, "What is the purpose of this form you have assumed? It is not in the index of creatures which were indigenous to this planet. There is nothing like it in our archives. There were hirsute quadrapeds, but none with the cranial formation you have assumed. You appear to have amalgamated disparate species. What is the purpose?"

I tryin hard as hell to keep mah mouth shut, I tryin to think `bout scratchin fleas, but that water he give me makin mah head swim. The words comin out of me and there ain't nothin I can do.

"That old blast come too soon," I tell him. "I wudden no way ready! I was jest then thinkin `bout how I gotta get me a form that nobody gonna pay no attention to."

"But you could have disincorporated, returned to baseline presence."

"No, boss, no. You don't unnerstan. I do that and they's no way I can hang around and watch after them babies. I had to get me a form real quick, I had to choose somethin. And I was standin there thinkin `bout all the stuff I done ever knowed on this planet."

"Cultural images?" Ven axes me. "Mythical images?"

"Everthing, first to lass," I tell him. "Run it through mah head, from the time it first started up on this here dirt-ball all the way down to when you muthfukkin Motor Mens come flyin down."

"What technological devices did you employ?" he axe me.

"I don't have no truck with that stuff," I tell him. "Ain't needin it. I just be scannin through all I got in mind, and then I be whatever I decides to be. But when the blast come, it taken me by surprise. And I flashed on pictures I seen in a little old book, one time when I was bein a child. I recollected them pictures I seen once, `cause they be folks nobody gonna notice much."

"What pictures?" Ven axe me.

"They was Old Uncle Tom. And nother `bout Old Dog Tray."

Ven say, "Explicate Uncle Tom form. Explicate Dog Tray form."

But I start to lose hold long about then. I start to lose mah grasp of vernacular and mah Tom-Tray persona but, damn that drink, I couldn't stop talkin. "It got mixed...between least animal and least human..."

Ven saw I was losing verbal control. He jerked my head up. "Your origin?" he demanded. "Inside the System or outside?"

"Outside."

"Will they send a mission to retrieve you?"

"No," I said, with difficulty. "...guardian... take surviving archiplasms... out."

Ven dropped my head and talked to the other Motor Men. I was in a black and buzzing place and couldn't distinguish what they said. Then he came back to me. And the wires began to heat up once more. Now it was pain and pleasure mixed intolerably, so that I could neither accept nor reject. I had to fight very hard to keep myself from leaving form. You do not know the excruciation form can be until it is tormented.

He eased it very slightly, and said, "We can keep you embodied and held precisely at this point for a long, long time. You are a Monad, you cannot expire. We can prevent your disincorporating. And there is nothing - nothing anywhere - that can intervene."

He had them heat the wires a little hotter. "It is imperative that we have the surviving archiplasms! They must come back into form. They must re-initiate organic life on this planet."

"This world is dead," I managed to say. "You won't be able to start it again. It's a corpse."

"We risked a great deal in order to take this habitat," Ven said. "But it is useless, as it is now. We cannot return to where we came from because it is destroyed, and we cannot continue here without organic life to provide raw materials. Those last surviving archiplasms must enter into form, they must re-boot generation."

"Slavery," I said. "Never-ending slavery."

"You can see them, so you must bring them down from the trak. You must force them to take back consciousness of worlds."

He leaned down and stared at me with his unliving eyes. "Our entire future depends on what you do - on what I can make you do," he amended. "You will acquiese eventually, Monad, so why not do it now and save yourself great suffering?"

The heat of the wires increased. The mad pleasure increased. The body I had taken on convulsed and there was a muzzle of white froth suffocating me. I twisted and kicked and tried to bite, to claw, but it was no use. Maybe I had whined before, but now I howled - I howled and howled!

The long wavering howl reverberated against the walls of the room, its coils distorting and amplifying the sound. The archiplasms were outside comprehension of worlds, but maybe they heard. Or maybe it was the age-old linkup between us. They rolled faster, wobbling with erratic motion, all of them. But it was Glo who went completely crazy and came off the trak.

She hurtled out into a shape without stopping to consider, without stopping to choose, or to build carefully. She came out a billowing giant, a mushroom monster, a whirlwind of blizzard ice and lashing cold, a glacier thing crunching and booming as it approached. It was a burst of manifestation hurled at the Motor Men. They only turned and looked, registering it as a phenomenon.

She saw the lack of affect and changed instantaneously, belching flame and blast, torching them massively in plumes of white-hot burning. Their uniforms melted faintly at the edges. That was all.

Recalculating, she hovered a moment as a diaphanous undulating blackness, a filmy eclipse of light. Then the blackness exhaled like the lung of a black hole. It was a dense puff of inky softness. It was a heavy cloud of burning rubber. It was a suffocating slow cyclone of carbon and hair-spray and graphite.

The glittering exteriors of the Motor Men became smudged. They could not get visuals. Their circuits spasmed, flickered, then jammed. Their white uniforms were besmirched. The glinting lights on their helmets stopped sparkling. They went static, some just turning their heads, some raising a gauntleted hand to ward off the gritty cloud.

General Ven froze where he kneeled beside me. His platinum alloy mouth was open to frame the next question. Cinders sifted slowly down, frosting his golden face. The lights behind his crystal eyes went out.

Then Glo became a hundred hands, like the old statues of Avalokitesvara, all of them yanking at the wires pinned into me. When the wires were a tangle on the floor, her rage subsided, and she disassembled. With a delicate tremor of the surrounding air, she incorporated Glo once more, the way I had been seeing her on the trak, the way she best remembered herself.

"I had to come down," she said with a quaver in her voice. "They were hurting you, Gabriel!"

I wanted to tell her how stupendous she had been, I wanted to praise her cleverness and power. I wanted to tell her that, as it had always been, she was the glittering blade and I was the sturdy handle holding her sharpness. But because she was back in "a world", she would not understand such talk - she wouldn't understand till we were home. It was `Gabriel' who had brought her out of the unknowing, had wrenched her down from the trak, so it was Gabriel I had to remain until we were all safe.

"Honey, you done fine!" I said. "But now you git back! Old Ven and them is froze, we can break through that door and get out of this dam hellhole. But you got to get back on the trak, Glo, and rest yo mind!"

She didn't move.

"Girl, if you be in any shape, if you be in any form at all, you won't be able to git through. You hear what I'm sayin?"

"Oh, Gabriel," she said, tears rising in her eyes, "just let me stroke your head once."

She came and kneeled down. She took my embodied head in her hands and looked into my eyes. She scratched a little behind my ears. She said, "I always was a fool about animals."

I said, "Now git yo self back on the trak, rest yo damned mind, girl! We gettin the hell outta here!"

She got back.

All them babies started in to roll, and roll, and roll like glory! The wuz amps rising, the decibels wuz rising! I so hyped I come all the way outta my form. I taken on humanoid shape and ran to that door and heaved open the latch and pushed open that ton of metal. I was outside at last, after all those days! I punched the buttons on the console outside and crashed the whole entire system.

Then the trak started to flash rays in the visible bandwidth. It started to move, slowly at first, then speeding up. It came straight out of that magnetic room and started to glide upward like a steel shaft. It blasted the roof off the place. There was no more atmosphere, so it left no trail.

I shucked body, discarding neural templates for all the various possible disguises from all the centuries, and followed the trak upward, out of the System.

The crazed world would not be born again to serve Motor Men. The last twenty-four archiplasms were out of form now forever, and free. They rode the ancient trak, hurtling for Home.

I followed along behind, traveling easy, traveling light, and herding them like a cheerful shepherd.

Lou Crago has published mainly poetry, but now has decided SF is probably the most enticing literary form around, and is goint to try to write more of it. Other interests include Hindu astrology, southern cooking, and virtual reality.

Crago_L@CUBLDR.COLORADO.EDU