Jim and the Flims by Rudy Rucker

difficult to find.”
    â€œPlease lead us there,” said Weena.
    â€œI don’t see the Whipped Vic as your kind of scene,” said Chang, not liking Weena’s looks.
    â€œI, uh, lost something at that house,” I said. “I need to get it back.”
    â€œWhat’s with you, Jim?” asked Chang. “Is your woman friend a cop?”
    â€œI’m a fallen woman,” said Weena in a low, throaty tone. “A vamp. Just ask Jim.”
    Chang gave me a worried look. “You’re this hard up, man?”
    â€œIt’s all very freaky,” I told him, unable to keep holding everything back. “Weena here—she’s the mummy that Skeeves is always fucking.”
    â€œNo doubt!” said Chang, breaking into wild laughter. He totally didn’t believe me. “Same old Jim. What the hell, I’ll bring you guys to the Whipped Vic party, sure. It might piss off Header. But that’ll make me glad.”
    â€œI appreciate this,” I said.
    â€œBro!” said Chang. “Remember the time you took me to that Wiggler Labs picnic and you fed them all that gnarly eel?”
    â€œWell, I already knew they were going to fire me,” I said, a little embarrassed.
    â€œYou were so frikkin’ ripped,” mused Chang. “It was beautiful. And then you started hassling me for more pot in front of everyone.”
    â€œI’ve matured,” I said.
    â€œMe too,” said Chang. “It sucks.”
    A wail from the water distracted him. His woman student had lost control of her board, which was bobbing to shore.
    â€œI gotta do my thing,” continued Chang. “Meet me at the Perg coffee shop around seven-thirty, and we’ll catch the Whipped Vic crew there. They always hit the Perg after they ride. Ginnie’s a serious coffee hound.”
    â€œShould I bring a salmon for the party?”
    â€œNah, don’t bother, of course not. Bring a bottle of tequila. That’ll help with Header. He’ll be trippin’ about me hooking him up with Jim and— the mummy !”

8: The Boardwalk

    S o that left Weena and me with a long afternoon to kill. Going back to my house didn’t seem like a good idea, what with the excitement about the sea lions, and with Diane Simly wanting to evict us.
    â€œWhat are those immense machines?” asked Weena, pointing at the bright structures of Boardwalk. “Is it a, a fish-cannery?”
    â€œOh, come on, Weena,” I said. “It’s an amusement park.” She looked doubtful. “I’ll tell you what,” I continued. “I’ll take you on some rides.”
    â€œAmusement park,” echoed Weena, thinking this through. “Of course. I rode on a Ferris wheel as a girl. And I’ve frequented Funger Gardens in Flimsy. But this one—so very many machines.” Another pause. “How clanking and inhumane our Earth has become.”
    â€œYou say there’s an amusement park in Flimsy too?” I asked, wanting to lighten things up. We were headed along the oceanfront, Droog still on his leash. I still didn’t really understand what or where Flimsy was—or why Weena seemed so unfamiliar with the modern world.
    â€œBut in Flimsy there’s no machines at all,” she said. “No bustling assemblages of clamps and screws and wires and paint and rust. We use zickzack and kessence instead. Have I told you this?”
    â€œYou’ve hardly told me anything, Weena. What are kessence and zickzack?”
    â€œKessence is like aether. A subtle substance, a higher energy. Zickzack is more complicated. The jivas construct things from it. Zickzack is akin to—to hyperdimensional origami. Zickzack is a piece of space that’s been folded or stretched or glued.” Her hands moved rapidly, molding a shape in the air. “For example—take a slab of space and attach the inside to the outside in a certain way. And then