"Uh, guys-cover for me, okay? Bathroom break."

Shepherds co-workers agreed readily. Perhaps they suspected he needed to speak privately to his godPod. Sometimes even whispering in a public place was too intimate, and one had to sequester oneself. Because although everyone tried not to eavesdrop on anyone conducting a conversation with their godPod, sometimes it was simply impossible not to. Just as in the days before the arfids, when occasionally you would witness somebodys PIN number being punched into an ATM even though you werent deliberately shoulder-surfing.

In the stall in the mens room, Shepherd asked Jesus, "What do you mean about Anna and me having sex today? Why today? Whats changed all of a sudden?"

"If you must know, Shepherd, a large number of things. Anna Modesto has just reconciled with her mother, from whom she has been long estranged. She received a raise from your shared employer. Last nights episode of her favorite situation comedy was particularly well-written. Anna Modesto was impressed yesterday by the way you helped an elderly female customer. Her period-"

"Okay, okay, thats enough information! I trust you, Jesus. Youve helped me so much in the past. Its just that this is all so sudden "

"I realize that, my friend. But life works on levels which humans cannot always distinguish, and at a pace all its own."

Shepherd contemplated this maxim for a brief moment, ultimately finding it as pithy and incontestable as all of Jesuss observations. Then, unexpectedly, he experienced a sharp twinge of jealousy at hearing about Annas raise, when he himself had not received one for over a year. (The godPods generally refrained on ethical grounds from divulging any private information about individuals or states or corporate entities that could not be just as easily googled, thus preventing their use as "big brother" devices.) Shepherd experienced a momentary urge to confess his unworthy jealousy to Jesus-many people used their godPods as confessors, receiving very satisfactory absolutions-but pushed the impulse aside.

With a hand on the stalls latch, ready to return to work, Shepherd asked Jesus, "So, how, uh, will all this happen?"

"Very simply, Shepherd. Just ask Anna Modesto for a date for tonight."

"Okay. That sounds easy enough. No problem. Thank you, Jesus."

"Youre very welcome, son."

Shepherd rejoined his co-workers out front. Anna cast a big smile his way, and he tried not to blush.

The chance to ask Anna out occurred naturally enough during their shared break. Shepherd stumbled a bit with the invitation, but his unease did not visibly affect Annas enthusiastic acceptance.

The movie they chose to see was a romantic comedy titled godPodless in Seattle, about a fellow who lost his godPod (it fell off his belt and under a rolling truck tire) and the incredible series of misadventures he had while on the way to replace it, including meeting his soul-mate and failing to recognize her, thanks to lacking Jesuss advice. Both Anna and Shepherd enjoyed the film thoroughly. Annas exuberant laughter sent happy frissons through Shepherds bloodstream.

They exited the theater holding hands and strolled toward a plaza, lit with fairy-lights and featuring happy diners at outdoor tables and live music from a jazz trio.

"Want some coffee and dessert?" Shepherd asked.

"Ill pass on the coffee," Anna replied. "After being up to my elbows in coffee beans all day, thats the last thing I want. But I could go for a big slice of cheesecake."

"Youve got it."

As they approached the open-air restaurant, Shepherd witnessed a typical godPod intervention-a "save."

A waiter carrying a heavily loaded tray suddenly-and for no apparent reason-jigged around a seated patron who was arguing emotionally with his tablemates, just in time to avoid an outflung gesticulating arm. Had the waiter kept to his original path and intersected the arm, he would certainly have lost his burden and gone down.

The waiters Personal Jesus had warned him of the impending disaster, allowing him to avoid it.

Such saves gave Shepherd-and most other people-a decidedly queer feeling. More than a decade after the arrival of the godPods, issues of predestination and free will still remained unresolved and irksome. Fortuitously, most people preserved their peace of mind by avoiding thinking over-closely about such matters.

Unfortunately for Shepherd tonight, the paradoxes involved in accepting the oft-times proleptic advice of the godPods continued to plague him after the waiters rescue. He could hardly manage to keep up his end of the conversation while Anna savored her cheesecake. He recalled his despair this morning, his brief flirtation with abandoning his godPod. He pondered the abruptness of the fulfillment of one of his most intense wishes, a romantic interlude with Anna. In a cynical light, it seemed almost as if Shepherds hesitancy to continue using a godPod had been recognized and defused by this reward.

But surely the altruism and selflessness of the godPods had been proven time and time again. What could God possibly have to gain from cultivating human reliance?

Walking back to Annas apartment, Shepherd continued to experience this crisis of faith. He could not rid himself of the notion that he and all humanity were merely puppets of the godPods. It was a terrifying image.

On Annas doorstep, she asked him inside.

Once behind closed doors, Anna offered herself for a kiss.

But Shepherd hesitated, before blurting out, "Anna, why did you go out with me tonight?"

Anna looked bemused. "Why, you asked me to, remember?"

"Yes, of course. But did your godPod-?"

"I cant tell you that, Shepherd. Its too private."

"Of course. I understand. But could I just ask you a small favor?"

"I guess so ...."

"If I-if I take off my godPod, will you take yours off too?"

Anna grinned. "Why, I didnt realize you were so modest, Shepherd."

A few people eccentrically shed their godPods during intimate moments, unwilling to remain connected to Jesus while they had sex (or went to the toilet!). How an omniscient God would fail to observe them one way or another was not the issue. They just felt uneasy with the possibility that Jesus might choose to address them at an awkward moment.

Annas fingers went to her holstered godPod teasingly, almost like the movements of a stripper with a bra-hook. "Well, if youre really so shy-" She removed the godPod and set it down on a tabletop.

"Your headset too, please."

Anna uncorked her ear. Shepherd moved to shed his own connection to the infinite.

Jesus spoke then to the man. "Shepherd, please-"

But Shepherd ignored Him. And Annas Personal Jesus had apparently not objected to going offline. Or if He had, she had likewise turned a deaf ear to God, as people still could. (Such as during the traffic accident Shepherd has witnessed that very morning.) Free of any encumbrance, Anna threw herself at Shepherd.

They ended up sometime later in Annas bedroom.

The sex was spectacular, all that Shepherd had envisioned. So satisfying apparently to Anna also that she fell right asleep, neglecting to reclaim her godPod and reinstall it.

The tiny headsets were so comfortable that the majority of people slept with them in place. The godPod was capable of directing and shaping the wearers dreams through subliminal whispers, forestalling nightmares and promoting the most restful of sleeps, a service much in demand.

Shepherd, however, failed to relax, despite the somatic satisfaction, remaining awake and thoughtful while Anna snuffled demurely in her sleep.

A television hung on the wall across the room. Shepherd turned it on with his arfid, finding a news channel.

The newscaster was beaming.

"Today represents a milestone in the history of the godPod. Eight billion units have now been fully deployed, insuring that all citizens of even those countries lagging behind the average rising GNP now have access to the indispensible advice of God ...."

Shepherd told his arfid to shut the television off. He lay awake for a further time, but finally fell asleep.

He awoke to the late-morning sun of a beautiful Saturday. Anna was not beside him.

Shepherd found the small naked woman in the front room of her apartment, sobbing. He noticed that she was cradling her godPod as if it were a dead sparrow. She looked up, red-eyed and snot-nosed, as Shepherd entered.

"My-my Jesus wont talk to me-"

Shepherd retrieved his own unit and discovered that it was likewise defunct.

"Im sure theres some simple explanation. Lets turn on the news."

Out of hundreds of channels, only three were broadcasting. One offered a pre-recorded talk show, another a cartoon. The third channel featured a wild-eyed man with no obvious prior on-air experience raving about an alien invasion from the stageset of a famous cooking show, What Would Jesus Bake?.

Shepherd and Anna got dressed and went outside.

After several hours of exploration, they discovered that they were among approximately a dozen people left in the pristine city.

They wandered stupefied for blocks, eventually arriving at City Hall. There they found a few other souls, equally baffled and bereft As they exchanged half-hearted greetings and urgent questions, the aliens arrived.

The ship carrying the aliens resembled a mirror-surfaced egg. It touched down on its broad end and remained upright without evident supports. The next second, it vanished entirely.

Standing unconcernedly where the ship had rested, a dozen miscellaneous aliens awaited a first move from the humans. The aliens were mostly humanoid-if a being, for instance, that appeared to have evolved from a hybrid gila monster and koala bear could be called humanoid-but some were not.

The small group of humans made no move toward the visitors, until Shepherd strode forth.

"Can you-can you tell us what happened? Are you responsible?"

The furry lizard offered what passed for a smile. "No, were not. Were survivors like yourselves. The exact same thing happened to all our worlds."

Understanding broke over Shepherds mind. "Was it-was it the Rapture?"

"Something like that. Or the Singularity. Call it what you will. In either case, an entity vastly larger and more potent than your species has now subsumed all your kind into itself. Everyone who was connected to it at the time, that is."

"But why?"

The alien shrugged. "Who knows? To augment itself, is our best guess. Anything that is not truly infinite still wants to grow."

Anna joined Shepherd, apart from the small crowd of humans. "How did you arrive here right when it happened?"

"Oh, weve been here for fifteen years now, ever since you discovered God, observing and just waiting for this to happen. Your world took a little longer than some, but less than others."

Shepherd started to get angry. "And you couldnt have warned us?"

The alien made a dismissive blurting noise. "Like you wouldve believed us, in the face of God!"

Shepherd realized the truth of this statement, and grew calm. "So what happens next?"

The alien scratched his butt, eliciting a sandpapery noise. "Youre quite welcome to come with us. We have several lovely worlds full of castaways such as yourselves. Such as us. Our culture is very, very eclectic. An exciting time to be alive. Or, you can stay here and fashion a new world from the abundant ruins. Your call."

"Is God going to return?" asked Anna.

"Not for some time. Theres too few of you left for Him to bother with. He only shows up when the population masses in the billions. Were very careful to keep the population on each of our worlds down to a few million."

The alien looked puzzled for a moment, then said, "Your species doesnt plan on breeding in the billions again anytime soon, does it?"

Anna reached out and took Shepherds hand. He squeezed it, and began to blush.

"Not right away, no. That would take some kind of miracle. And those days seem gone."

The rest of the humans automatically said, "Amen."

My gonzo, freestyle, transrealist pal Rudy did most of the heavy lifting on this one, a kind of Kuttneresque romp. He conceived of the characters and plot, and I added swatches of dialogue and description and a few speculative conceits about the elves. Rudys creativity and energy, especially lately, since hes retired from teaching, continue to astonish me. He charged ahead with completion of this tale, once we kickstarted it together, doing numerous perfectionist drafts long after I would have been satisfied to call the story finished. Working with him is always an inspiration for me to boost myself to a higher quantum level of weirdness and taoist oneness with the multiverse.

I will however take full credit-which Rudy already generously publically gave-for my coinage of the line, "Of flurbbing, they know not!" Rudy got such a charge out of that undefined neologism that he created a website called Flurb, where this story first appeared.

ELVES OF THE SUBDIMENSIONS.

Co-written with Rudy Rucker Forever and again, the alvar were gnawing at the quantum walls of their prison.

Down where photonic light itself was too gross to serve as a basis for perception, they raged to be free. Ceaselessly shifting congeries of forms, interpenetrating shuggoths, they scratched and clawed in the basement of the cosmos like dissatisfied servants, seeking an entrance to the bright and happy privileged realms above.

The alvar had little actual experience with the macroscopic world they irrationally but fervently longed to breach. Only occasionally did a few of them manage a brief escape, frenetically enjoying the odd pleasures of the supradimensional zone for a short time, before inevitably dropping back down to their ground state below the Planck level. Once trapped again in their subdimensional prison, the adventurous alvars would recount to their fellows the hardly believable experiences theyd undergone. These tales were passed from one alvar to another as they constantly chattered amongst themselves, eventually attaining the proportions of myth.

"The high-planers ingest sweet chunks of their worldstuff!"

"They use picture boxes to learn their hive minds mood!"

"Of flurbbing, they know not!"

"Their landscape is static across lesser timescales!"

"They tend symbiotes called cows!"

Such was the stimulating talk exchanged between the fits of importunate scrabbling.

But now several alvar were holding a different kind of conversation, one that was more purposeful than fanciful.

For the duration of this discussion-the time it took for a single excited electron to jump shells-these particular alvar remained remarkably stable. To their own peculiar senses, they resembled naked old human males, stooped and bearded and wrinkled. All save one. This exception took the form of a supremely beautiful human woman, anomalously equipped with a horsetail shading her rear.

"When I finally reach the supradimensional realms," said the female, "I intend to experience sex."

"I have heard of this," said one of the gnomes, his skin decorated with blue swirls. "A ritual akin to flurbbing."

The female shivered, temporarily losing definition. "No, something much more delicious. For in high-plane sex, it is said, the two partners retain their identities!"

"Impossible!" "Scandalous!" "Insipid!"

The female grew wrathful. "You are weak and pusillanimous! You will never reach the supradimensional realms with such an attitude. Resume digging now! Faster, harder, deeper! Tear away that quantum foam! We must be ready to pounce upon any growing tendril from the ideational spores weve sown."

The female alvar dissolved into a writhing nest of medusa flails that lashed her fellows, who shrieked and spat, but nonetheless attacked the walls of their sub-Planck-length burrow with renewed vigor.

Lately Jory Sorenson had been thinking a lot about his Uncle Gunnar. Gunnar had lost his ability to work; hed killed himself; and his lifes work had been spoiled. Was that in the cards for Jory too? Poor old Gunnar...