"Made you?" whispered Mouche.
"Made me from some of your own self and some of Bofusdiaga's own self. Made you a little bit like me. I knew to come here, to tell you of the dancers."
"You know what the dancers were doing here?"
"I know what you mankinds call it."
"What do we call it?" cried Ellin.
"You call it making love," said Flowing Green.
58—The Jongau And A Matter Of Gender
High above the chasm, Ashes and his sons arrived at the end of the straight road and moved out onto the ledge that looked down to the Fauxi-dizalonz. Behind and around them were the remains of the settlers from Thor, the jongau, the bent ones. Emerging from bubble caves here and there around the circumference of the caldera, others edged out, softly gleaming in the pallid moonlight, casting dark shadows behind them. Some of those farthest down struck the stone with whatever parts of themselves were available—heads, toes, tentacles—and these blows resolved into a cadenced drumming upon the walls. Those high on the ledge stepped in time with the cadence, turning with lumbering precision to move downwards on the long, gentle road that switched back and forth as it descended into the caldera, at first only a few, then more and more as each new monster reached the ledge and marched across it, over the lip and down.
Here were Crawly and his cousins, four beats to a flail, twelve beats to a drag, flail-two-three-four—drag-two-three-four—down-six-seven-eight—below-ten-eleven-twelve. Here was Strike, four beats to a foot step, rye-ut ut ut, lay-uft uft uft, rye-ut ut ut, lay-uft uft uft. Here was Belly, dragged behind the Shoveler and Gobblemaw, like a harrow behind a team of oxen, four bars to the belch; hup plod plod plod, hup plod plod plod, hup plod plod plod, squawwweeough.
"Old Pete," murmured Ashes, who was marching along quite erect, arms swinging at his sides. "He's a little way down yet. Crawly'll drag him out."
"What do we do when we get to the bottom?" Bane asked.
"Gonna roll 'em oh-ver," said Ashes. "Hup hup hup roll 'em, hup hup hup over."
Hughy Huge came down like a gingerly cannon ball, Ear clinging to one side, Tongue to the other, blather, rumble, blather, rumble. Foot hopped, bingety spop, bingety spop, and Mosslegs swished, slooush, slooush, all in time, all in perfect time.
"You learn to march like this on Thor?" Bane asked.
"Drill-two-three-four, this is what a drill's for," said Ashes, keeping time.
Boneless oozed over the lip of the ledge, splooshing in cadence. Bone clattered behind him, brack-bruck brack-bruck.
"There's old Craw-lee. He tooka short cut," chanted Ashes.
There was Crawly indeed, flopped on the roadway outside a cave, flailing his claws into the pale flesh that blocked it, heave-two-three-four, heave-two-three-four.
"Pete, he's coming out, huh," breathed Ashes, still keeping time. "Pete he's coming out, huh!"
Pete had come out, or his body had, though his appendage was still emerging, foot by foot, a gigantic sausage, a titanic pizzle, white as alabaster, smooth as marble, throbbing with discontent. Crawly turned and clasped Pete's figure with his hind legs, dragging Pete along behind while Crawly himself proceeded down the road, flail-two-three-four, heave-two-three-four.
The moon had risen high enough to show all this nightmare vision to Madame, the two Hags, the two Men of Business, and to Questioner, who arrived just as the last of Pete popped out of his cave and came thumping down the road in Crawly's wake. Corojum summoned several Joggiwagga and a great number of tunnelers and leggers who assembled themselves into levees that reached from the foot of the road to the Fauxi-dizalonz.
"Can the pond hold them all?" whispered Madame. "And what in heaven's name are they?"
"Creatures by that Old Earth artist, Hieronymus Bosch," murmured D'Jevier. " 'The Garden of Earthly Delights'!"
"More likely Kaoragi's joke," said Onsofruct. "Surely Bosch never meant his paintings to be taken literally."
"She's right, though," said Calvy, unexpectedly. "I've seen them in a book, and that's what they look like."
Madame asked once again, "Will the pond hold them all? And what will they be when they come out?"
"And why have they all come at once?" demanded Calvy. "Is this an invasion?"
"They came," said the Corojum, "because they have to. They aren't as stable as finished persons. When Bofusdiaga makes someone, he builds in the call. When it starts to come apart, it has to come back and get fixed. Bofusdiaga does not like losing material."
"Penis-man," murmured Simon, in awe. "Look at that thing!"
"I'd prefer not," said Onsofruct frostily. "Quite indecent. And what is that flaccid sack? A stomach?"
"Belly boy," said Calvy. "I don't think the pond can hold them all."
"It will," said Corojum. "A little at a time. Though it will overflow when they liquefy, and we will need to move up to higher ground." He moved off toward the steeper trail, and the others trailed along behind him. When they had gone up thirty meters or so, they stopped on a conveniently spacious ledge and merely watched.
"There's Thor Ashburn," said Madame, from Questioner's side. "And the boys, Bane and Dyre. What will become of them?"
"We'll make the young ones go through twice," murmured Corojum. "Even if they fight us. We want no more jongau."
"Look," cried D'Jevier. "An Eiger, coming out of the chasm!"
"It's carrying Bao," said Madame.
The Eiger circled for a time, as though uncertain where to put its burden. Then Bao saw the group on the ledge, called out, and the great bird turned, swooped, and dropped Bao gently at their feet.
"Questioner," said Bao breathlessly. "Oh, Questioner ... "
"Look," she said. "Look at the monsters."
"No time for monsters," he said. "Questioner, you must listen."
"What is it?" asked Madame, turning toward him. "Have you come up with something."
Bao flushed. "I ... that is we, yes. We think."
"What is it?" asked Calvy.
"I am showing you on the IDIOT SAVANT," said Bao. "I cannot describe it."
Wordlessly, Bao set up the device, and the screen came alive with the image of the Quaggima, with glittering points and blots of light. "The lights are being the Timmys," said Bao. "And the Joggiwagga."
They watched for a time as the sparks and blotches moved slowly around the Quaggima, repetitively, back and forth, back and forth, then quickly another motion, then back and forth ...
"Are you not seeing it, Madame?" begged Bao. "Mouche was being sure you would be seeing it."
"I don't see anything," said Madame. "What am I supposed to see?"
Bao approached Simon and murmured something. He, in turn, murmured to Madame, and she stared at the screen with a shocked expression. "Oh, by all the Hagions ... "
"What?" demanded Questioner. "What did he say?"
"He said the ... that is, the dancers ... they're making love to it," said Madame.
"To the Quaggima?" Questioner turned to Simon. "Is that what he said?"
"He said stroke, stroke, tweak, Questioner."
"He said what?"
Madame threw up her hands. "Never mind what he said! I believe he's right! Only ... " She looked puzzled. "Of course, the anatomy is all wrong. How in heaven's name would we ... "
"Give me a moment," cried Questioner, turning her attention momentarily to her data banks. "I see! If the Timmys amassed to do this ... ritual, well, now that we can see it, Corojum can tell these current Timmys what to do ... "
"No," said the Corojum, in mixed anger and sadness. "It would take many, many Corojumi to tell them what to do. And much rehearsal, also."
D'Jevier cried, "But if the Fauxi-dizalonz can make anything ... "
Corojum said, "Can disassemble quickly. Can put together in new shape with new information much more slowly. Making things right takes time. A few little things take as long as one very big thing. To make many, many Timmys would take a long time."
Questioner said, "So we
won't try for Timmys. It can make one big thing."
"Where is pattern?" cried Corojum.
"Mouche is a Consort," Questioner responded. "He is trained to do this kind of thing. And you, Simon, you were also trained. And you, Calvy, from what I am told. And there are those monsters moving down the road, including one ... one organ that might be useful."
"You're saying you expect the Fauxi-dizalonz to create a Consort for this Quaggima?" cried D'Jevier.
"Why not?" snapped Questioner. "You should approve of that." She turned to the Corojum. "It would work, wouldn't it? If Bofusdiaga will cooperate."
Corojum dithered. "Is this something my friend Mouche would want?"
"Bofusdiaga can put him back the way he was, can't he?"
"Creatures are never exactly the same," whispered Corojum. "Maybe he will not be willing?"
"Does he have to be willing?" muttered Onsofruct. "Consorts are sold into duty all the time, are they not? I'm sure they're not always willing."
"Onsy, I'm ashamed of you," cried D'Jevier.
"I will talk to Bofusdiaga," said the Corojum, plodding away with his head down and his fur lying flat, the picture of dejection.
"We can't do this," cried Madame. "It's unconscionable."
The world shook. From the chasm opposite they heard the great mooing, a plaint of such enormity that they covered their ears and grimaced with pain. Stones plunged past them. The procession of monsters stopped their descent and held on. Whenever the sounds of the stones stopped, the muttered cadence of the monsters was heard: hup, hup, hup, hup. Finally, after long, terrorized moments, the tremors subsided.
"Perhaps you find it more conscionable to die," Questioner said to Madame. "I think you will find yourself in the minority."
Another tremor struck, then a milder one, then one milder yet.
"The moons are separating on the backside of this world," said Questioner. "We will now have a time of peace before the end. Which may, or may not, be long enough!"
The monsters had resumed their progress downward. The observers stood in silence, watching, waiting until the Corojum came into sight once more, trudging toward them along the edge of the Fauxi-dizalonz.
"Bofusdiaga says yes, he can do it," said Corojum. "He will take all material from those coming down road; he will filter out bad stuff; he will hold rest of it in readiness. Then you have Mouche and Simon and Calvy go in, and Bofusdiaga will make a big one body to do the will of the little one's minds."
"Me?" cried Calvy, in outrage. "Me!"
"Bofusdiaga needs more brain stuff than one person," said the Corojum.
"So it's fortunate you're here, Family Man," said D'Jevier. "You and Simon and Mouche, and that other one, what's his name? Ornery."
"Not Ornery," said Questioner. "She's a girl."
"A what?" cried Onsofruct. "A girl? What is she doing in sailor's garb? She's not allowed to do that!"
"Allowed or not, she's been doing it."
"By all the Hagions," muttered Onsofruct. "We're losing our grip upon this world."
"Let's get beyond this crisis," pled D'Jevier. "Then we can decide what needs doing about our grip upon this world."
"Mouche comes," said the Corojum. "With Ellin and Ornery."
Mouche did indeed come with Ellin and Ornery, all of them Eiger borne. He was softly lowered before the others.
"He told you?" Mouche panted.
Madame nodded sadly. "Yes, Mouche. We understand that we must make a partner for the Quaggima."
"The Fauxi-dizalonz is going to make it," said Questioner.
"Out of Timmys?" asked Mouche in a distant, detached voice. "As before?"
"Evidently there's insufficient time," said Questioner, giving him a sharp look. Where had she seen that expression before? "The Fauxi-dizalonz doesn't work that way. It can make one large thing in the same time it can make a few small things. We have the pattern, however, and if you'll look up the hill, you'll see our raw material."
Mouche's eyes focused on the descending monsters, and his jaw sagged. "What are they?" he demanded.
Madame explained. Ellin caught her first glimpse of old Pete and turned aside, flushing.
The two Hags approached, trailed by a disconsolate Calvy and Simon.
"Mouche," murmured D'Jevier, wiping tears, "we appreciate your sacrifice."
"It was nothing," said Mouche, slightly puzzled. "I figured it out at the same time as Fl ... " He caught himself. " ... Bao. He figured it out as much as me."
"Still, many would have concealed the truth because of the implications."
"I am glad to be of service, Ma'am," he said, still puzzled, made more so by Calvy and Simon's faces as they turned away and departed, without speaking, arms around one another's shoulders as though for mutual support.
The women turned away as well, D'Jevier saying to her sister, "You see, Onsy. He is one of a kind. A marvel."
"I don't know what's so marvelous," said Mouche.
Madame replied, "Neither Calvy nor Simon have your sense of duty, Mouche. They are not really willing to go into the Fauxi-dizalonz to be made into a Consort for the Quaggima."
"A Consort for the Quaggima!" shouted Mouche, his voice reaching all the retreating persons. "Are you crazy?"
Calvy and Simon turned as one, staring, mouths slightly open.
D'Jevier turned, white-faced. "I thought you understood."
Questioner held up her hand imperiously. "We know the Quaggi anatomy is quite different, Mouche. But if the Fauxi-dizalonz can make and remake, to order, so to speak, we can simply use you trained people—you, Mouche and Simon and Calvy—to create a male for the Quaggima."
Mouche smiled, his face serene once more. "You didn't explain it to them, Bao."
"Explaining what?" yelped Bao. "I myself am not understanding ... "
Mouche said in that same, distant voice, "Actually, considering the size, the anatomy isn't that different. All the pertinent parts have their mankindly parallels. And I'm sure the Fauxi-dizalonz could probably come up with a Consort of some size. And I'm sure that would be quite appropriate ... if the Quaggima were female."
"But I saw her ... him ... it ... " said Questioner. "Out on that moon. And I saw him ... "
"You saw one Quaggi violate another Quaggi," said Mouche. "You assumed it was the male assaulting the female. In fact, it was a female who did the assaulting. She laid an egg in him. We ran an analysis from the data, and the egg was actually imbedded under the skin next to the male organs. That's how they do it. The females are bigger and stronger. They lay eggs in the males, and the males are the brooders. We got the sex wrong."
D'Jevier cried, "That's silly, even Bofusdiaga says ... "
"Bofusdiaga has no experience of heterosexual creatures," said Ellin, crisply. "After mankind came, Bofusdiaga made the assumption it was female, because in mankind and their livestock it is the females that have the eggs."
Ornery said, "It's the female that sits out there on the far moon and sings her siren song, and it's that song that excites the male and makes him follow it. Later, when the egg is ready to hatch, the young ones call in almost the same voice."
Madame said, "I know that some creatures respond sexually to scent and some to appearance, but you're saying that this one responds to sound?"
"It's true," said Mouche. "When the creatures in the egg call, the sound stirs the same excitement as the mating call did, and the Quaggima gets so excited, he thrashes and breaks the shell of the first bomblet or whatever it is, and that sets the hatching sequence off. It ends with some kind of explosion ... "
"Nuclear," murmured Questioner. "A shaped nuclear charge."
Mouche went on, "What Bofusdiaga and all have been doing with their dance is relieving his sexual arousal. That's all."
"But why didn't someone realize ..." Madame murmured.
"What did this world know about sexual arousal?" snarled Questioner, suddenly very much aware of much she had overlooked. "Nothing! And, seemingly, neither do
I. After all my instructions to you about not jumping to conclusions—"
"Forgive me for interrupting," said Mouche in the same serene but distant tone he had used since coming from the chasm. "We have every reason to believe this can be managed, but first the four of us need a little rest and something to eat and drink and a little quiet conversation." He took Ellin by the hand and tugged her away, up the steep slope toward several tall stones that held between them a patch of moonlit quiet and private space. Bao and Ornery followed them.
"I must be forgiven also," said Corojum, "But I am lost in all of your talk. What is sexual arousal? What do you mean, Quaggima is not mother. She is child hatcher!"
Questioner replied, "On our home planet, Corojum, back when we had animals, sometimes the male was the child caregiver or hatcher. A bird called the rhea, for example. The seahorse and the stickleback, which are kinds of sea creatures. It just happens that the Quaggi is a race in which the males are the caregivers."
"Males are choosing to be this?"
"They are not choosing," Madame said in an annoyed voice. "They can't help doing it, any more than a pregnant woman can help doing it. If the egg is attached, then the Quaggi can't get rid of it. It has to bear it, even against its own will."
"Could we separate it?" asked Onsofruct. "Could the tunnelers separate it?"
"Do we have the right to interfere with another race's mode of reproduction?" Questioner asked.
"But the hatching will kill him," said Calvy. "It's already crippled him and kept him bound here for an eternity."
"Evidently, that's the way things are done among the Quaggi," said Questioner.
"Does that make it right?" cried Simon. "Just because that's the way they evolved? It's a reasoning, feeling being! It was impregnated against its will!"
D'Jevier laughed, almost hysterically. "Oh, read your history, Simon. Read your history. Some philosophers would no doubt argue that the hatchling, being innocent, has more right to life than the father! Historically, in similar cases, women were expected to sacrifice themselves!"
Tepper,Sheri - Six Moon Dance Page 45