Free The Celestial Steam Locomotive (The Song of Earth) by Michael G. Coney

Burt closed his eyes, concentrated all his psy, tensed his huge muscles and Bigwished. Eulalie saw his outline become blurred and quickly recalled herself to Reality through the Do-Portal.  
    There was only one way to make this vapid Burt truly love the Girl, she’d decided, and that was to trick him into becoming Himself. Then he might have the sense to recognize her qualities. People-who-are-Themselves scream a lot, but some say it is worth it to be able to feel real emotions.  
    Back in the Rainbow Room, Eulalie walked to the console, leaning heavily on a valet. Her heart was fluttering painfully and the floor heaved like an ocean.  
    Now she had to introduce Burt and the Girl to each other, because otherwise the Girl would not recognize him...  
    That was Eulalie’s last thought, as the agony exploded in her chest. The valet caught her, held her and gave the alarm.  
     
     
     

 
When the Dream Girl Bigwished
     
    On the ninth day the Girl awoke, threw the Cap of Knowledge across the room and burst into tears. Eulalie had failed her. The Oracle had lied. Burt had not come. And her mind was filled with strange words without a key to their meaning: Cirrus, Hate Bombs, Anticonsumerism, Gulf Stream, Inversion Layer. They kept interfering with her normal thoughts. They meant nothing to her. They were facts without a reason.  
    She sat on the side of the bed with her head in her hands, staring at the pattern on the carpet, which made no more sense than her thoughts. Burt had not come.  
    Ergo, Burt did not want to come. So all the powers of the goddess Eulalie had not prevailed upon Burt, because the hold that that soulless Dream Jackie had on him was too tenacious. And because the Girl herself was not pretty enough...  
    She had waited two days beyond the appointed time. She had given the goddess a fair chance. Her throat was choked up with misery, her head ached, she was alone in a world of indifference, of empty heads, blank faces, hearty laughter and pointless adventure. So the thought came again into her head, as it came into every Dream Person’s head from time to time: There must be something better than this. Love, knowledge, fame, beauty, identity—where were they? Was even the Oracle phony? And the gods—were they Dreamers too?  
    She took her hands away from her face. She walked over to the mirror and looked at herself. Her face was red and puffed from crying. In addition, her nose was too big and her eyes too small. Her hair was a mess, her ears stuck out, her chest was flat. Small wonder, she decided, that Burt couldn’t stand the sight of her. So she closed her eyes and concentrated. She’d almost forgotten how. She settled on the image she wanted, held her breath and thought: I wish...  
    Back in the Rainbow Room, Cytherea saw a red star flash but thought nothing of it. It happened all the time. She didn’t really understand the Rainbow, and was just filling in until Zozula had recovered enough from the death of Eulalie to take over again.  
    The Girl hung in limbo as Composite Reality adjusted. She saw ships and stars and yellow mists. She saw bleak devastated landscapes, puny attempts at cultivation, twisted plants. She saw the Dome without knowing what it was. She saw endless shelves filled with endless empty big children and a tired woman who spent forever trying to get those children to look right and breed right.  
    In that instant when the Girl was Nowhere, she saw Everywhere and Everwhen. She saw the Planet-with-no-Name, which was destined to bear her name. She saw terrible sick areas of the Greataway, and caught a glimpse of a trapped Thing greater than anything imaginable. She saw Keepers tending stored minds. She saw the Invisible Spaceships and knew something of the creatures of the Red Planet, intelligent and cruel. She even flicked through the Greataway behind the Celestial Steam Locomotive...  
    She saw millions of years in one instant. She saw what every Dream Person sees