"Ah, no," said Questioner. "On Newholme, I am convinced of very little."
The song went on, and the dance. The moons moved into line with the sun and a gloom descended, a palpable shade that seemed to war with the music, advancing upon it, being driven away only to advance again. The earth shook, the mountains skipped, distant peaks tumbled like children's blocks, and still the music went on, the liquid depths surging again and again, waves leaping high, only to fall into glassy calms that swirled and eddied and rose again.
When two moons moved from the face of the sun, the music softened. As other moons sailed out and away from their gathering, the music softened more. The world stopped rocking, and they breathed again. Bofusdiaga's voice fell silent, then those of the Timmys, and last the drumming of the Joggiwagga ceased, leaving only the great stone flutes and horns making sonorous harmonies over the misty depths.
During all this time, even during the worst of the tremors, the tunnelers had been repairing the trench, chewing up loads of stone and regurgitating them into the ditch, while leggers pounded them down with their many feet. Lit by the fiery light of mid-afternoon, only a rough scar on the stone marked where the ditch had been. All was silent. No Timmy spoke, no creature moved. Birdthings sat silent along the rim, like a fringe.
The watchers waited. Inside the nearest cave, the members of the entourage muttered among themselves. At last, as evening came, a green spring began to bubble up into the depths of the Fauxi-dizalonz, throwing emerald sparkles in all directions. The stone music faded into quiet. The birdthings flew. Fogs rose from the abyss of the Quaggima, thickly roiling upward to fall as cool rain. When the rain stopped, the abyss was flooded down its western side with a fierce and golden light that gave them a transitory look at every detail of the chasm. The great black wings lay quietly upon the walls, and at the bottom the obsidian gleam of the great egg shone beside the still form of the Quaggima. Nothing else.
The world turned. The abyss shifted out of the sunlight, shadow streaming across its bottom and onto the eastern wall.
"Where are they?" whispered Simon. "Madame, where's Mouche?"
She shook her head. Nothing so small as a mere person could be seen at this distance. But then, Mouche and his companions had not been that small when they had flowed away. She would have asked the Corojum, but it had disappeared while they had watched the moons. Now there was nothing in the upper caldera but the sodden surface, a scar on the rock, the slowly filling pool of the Fauxi-dizalonz, and the trundling back and forth of the tunnelers and leggers who were smoothing the stone where the trench had been. Of that great being who had plunged over the edge into the chasm, there was no sign at all.
They sat without speaking until the sun had fallen well toward the west, at which point they were recovering sufficiently that Madame and Simon were beginning to murmur to one another their grief over Mouche, and the Hags, huddled with Calvy, were beginning to cast aggrieved glances at Questioner.
Seeing this, Questioner rose and said imperiously, "Now is not the time to discuss the future, if, indeed, it becomes a matter for discussion at all. I intend to have a closer look." She went toward the steep track, and the others straggled after her, for no reason except that it gave them something to do.
They had gone three-quarters of the way down when D'Jevier asked, "Madame, aren't those your boys?"
Madame searched the caldera, seeing two young men standing beside the rapidly filling pool.
"Bane and Dyre," murmured Madame. "They were never my boys, but I wondered where they'd got to. Now what are they doing?"
"Making up their minds to enter the pond," said Questioner, who had amplified her hearing. "Bane is telling his brother to jump, and his brother is saying he'll wait until the water gets higher."
A clutch of Timmys approached the two boys, backed by a Joggiwagga. Those on the trail could see the argument that resulted, but they could hear none of it.
Questioner asked Calvy, "These boys killed Marool Mantelby. Leaving aside for the moment the fact that Marool was their mother and that she probably needed killing, what does your system of justice require?"
Calvy replied, "Strictly interpreted, our law would require blue-bodying. For both of them."
D'Jevier commented, "That's true. But when we wrote those laws we did not have access to a Fauxi-dizalonz."
She had no sooner spoken than the pond began to bubble and percolate, shimmering of its own motion rather than from the wind. A tongue of green licked out of it and wrapped around both Bane and Dyre, lapping them down into the depths. At once, several of the Timmys ran around the pond to the opposite side and waited there.
The persons from the ledge reached the level of the caldera floor before two squat, ugly gargoyles crawled from the pond to stare at one another in horror. Their stench could be detected even by those across the pond. The Timmys did not suffer it. Immediately, they pushed the two back into the pond while, across from their point of entry, other Timmys readied themselves.
Questioner and her associates drew closer to observe the eventual emergence of two undistinguished and indistinguishable young men who gagged and gasped upon the shore, but gave off no detectable odor. The pond glittered, made a strangled noise, and spat a mouthful of clothing onto the shore beside them.
Questioner approached the two, prodding Bane with one foot. "How are you, boy? Are you all in one piece?"
"I'm all right," said Bane. He gagged, rolled over, then crawled toward his sodden trousers. "I'm hungry. We haven't had a decent meal since we left ... wherever it was. Where was it, Dyre?"
"House Genevois," said Dyre, trying to find the sleeves in his wet shirt. "Haven't had anything good to eat since then."
"And what are you doing here?" asked Questioner.
"Damfino," said Bane, staring about himself in wonder. "Hey, lookit all the Timmys with no clothes on!"
"Do you young men by any chance remember Marool Mantelby?" asked Calvy in an innocent voice.
"Or someone called Ashes?" asked Madame.
Bane and Dyre looked at one another, mystified, then back at the group. "Sorry, don't think we've met anybody like that."
Madame shrugged. D'Jevier shook her head. Onsofruct narrowed her nostrils and stared through slitted eyes. They were Bane and Dyre, truly, but they weren't the same young men.
"Blue-bodying?" D'Jevier asked Onsofruct.
"I see no point in it," said Onsofruct, turning to Calvy and Simon. "Do you?"
The two men shook their heads, then stopped, fixing their gaze toward the chasm. "Look," breathed Calvy, pointing down the almost invisible scar where the trench had been.
Laboring toward them over the lip of the chasm came four trudging figures. Ellin and Bao and Ornery and Mouche. Not exactly Mouche. Mouche with a billow of emerald hair that moved like seagrass. Mouche, smiling quietly. Mouche-timmy. Mouche-Flowing Green.
None of them spoke. The four approached, plodding wearily, yet with glowing faces.
"Now we are having time!" Bao called to Questioner. "Yes? Time for tunneling out the Quaggi egg? For lifting Quaggima?"
Mouche stopped where he was, leaning against the rock as if exhausted, but the other three came on to meet the group advancing toward them.
"Were you seeing dance, Questioner?" asked Bao with a wide grin. "We are being damn sexy."
"I'm afraid not," she replied. "No one up here did. We heard climactic music, we saw whirlwinds and surf."
"It was all very dramatic," said Calvy. "But not at all sexually explicit."
"Good." Ellin sighed. "At the time, I thought it was very beautiful, but I wouldn't have wanted it to be ... observed, or even recorded. Besides, in stories it's nicer when they leave a good deal to the imagination."
"Tell me," Madame whispered to her. "What actually happened?"
Ellin and Bao struggled to find words, glancing at one another. Finally, Ornery said, "The way I remember it is that first we sort of dissolved and then we sort of aggregated, and the
thing we aggregated into was put together with all of Ellin's romantic notions and Bao's womanly beings and all the satisfactions I'd ever had, plus everything Kaorugi knew about the Quaggima, plus everything Mouche had learned about lovemaking, and then that being dived over the cliff, and we made love to the Quaggima. That kept it distracted while all the pulling and tugging was going on, and afterward, it went to sleep. That's all."
"And I'd have been embarrassed, really, except it wasn't me, or Mouche, or any of us," murmured Ellin. "It was something else entirely."
"What happened with Mouche?" asked Madame.
Ellin nodded. "That was a little surprising. When it was all finished, Kaorugi separated us out again, but not Mouche and Flowing Green. Flowing Green was always sort of part of him, so Kaorugi—or maybe Bofusdiaga, I'm not quite sure—left them together."
"How very strange," said Questioner.
Bao shrugged. "Being frank, Questioner, it is not seeming that strange to me. After all this doing and dancing and being, I am regarding gender things in a new light. Both are being much more capacious than I was ever thinking!"
"We owe you a debt of gratitude," said Questioner, meaning it sincerely.
Ellin shook herself and spoke again. "That's true. But you needn't owe us, Questioner. When we've had time to consider it, we may ask you a favor."
"So soon after such an experience? You recovered from it quickly."
"Well, we talked about it on the way up, while we were resting, and we figured somebody owes us a favor. It won't be inappropriate or greedy. You can count on that."
Bao said pleadingly, "We are not bothering you with it now, Questioner. Everything is being too upset and weird, and there are rocks still falling off mountains. And besides ... besides ... " His voice trailed away. Besides, he had been going to say, Flowing Green had changed everything when she had talked to them before the transformation. She had told them something wonderful, right there at the end—something they hadn't even had a chance to think about. Not yet.
"Well, if you want a favor, I can at least consider it," said Questioner. "You've been good and dutiful aides. You're deserving of some consideration. And what about Mouche?"
"You'll have to ask Mouche," said Ellin. "I don't feel all that different from before. Not yet. There were only five of us, but the memory is already fading. I know why the Timmys couldn't remember, all those thousands of them. But Mouche ... I don't think he will forget. I think something different happened to Mouche."
"I shouldn't be surprised," muttered Questioner. "Though this planet has, on several occasions, surprised me." She turned to stare at the two Hags, who were standing a little distance away. "Unpleasantly," she added with a sniff.
Onsofruct caught Questioner's glance. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she turned away to hide the tears that spilled down her cheeks. "It's going to happen, Jewy. Our grandmothers made the wrong choice."
"No," said D'Jevier angrily. "They made the right choice. It just doesn't happen to fit into Haraldson's edicts."
"What?" demanded Calvy. "What are you talking about?"
"She's going to sterilize mankind on Newholme," murmured D'Jevier.
"Because of the Timmys?" Calvy cried, not waiting for an answer. "She's going to sterilize the people?" He turned to confront Questioner, saying accusingly, "Sterilize my children? That's a rotten way to repay Mouche and Ornery for their efforts on your behalf, Questioner. Or all the people on this planet who never killed a single Timmy. No future for them, either?"
"What are you talking about?" cried Ornery. "She's going to do what?"
"The innocent suffer with the guilty," said Questioner, with a significant glance at the Hags. "And it is not because of the Timmys! Let them explain it to you." She moved ponderously up the hill away from them.
Behind her, D'Jevier burst into tears, to be comforted by Ellin, who stared after Questioner, wondering if she and Bao should stay or go after her. Bao put a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. Well then, they would stay. They did not yet understand what exactly was happening, but they understood well enough that Mouche and Ornery along with the rest of Newholmian people were condemned to a fate that had sunk the others of their group deep in grief.
Away toward the chasm, Mouche looked up, noticed the unhappy group by the Fauxi-dizalonz and came slowly toward them.
"How can I tell him?" wept Madame. "Everything he's done for us, for us all, and now this. I can't tell him."
"It wouldn't make any difference to him, would it?" asked Ornery. "He never had any future, anyhow. Not in the way of children and a family."
"But this is different," Madame cried. "Different ... when it's the whole world."
Ornery, watching Mouche's slow approach, was not at all sure that the difference was worth mentioning.
61—Love Cards Wild
Over the succeeding days, the Quaggi egg was tunneled away from the body of Kaorugi and also out of the body of Quaggima—a job for which Kaorugi created two large creatures with geo-surgical aptitudes. The blast capsules beneath the egg were also carefully disassembled and Questioner's ship—whose captain had claimed "parts failure" as an excuse for failing to respond during the gathering of the moons—proved capable under the Gablian commander of lifting Quaggima and the egg and the dangerous hatching mechanism from the planet's surface. Quaggima was deposited on one of the tiny moonlets orbiting Newholme, for a time of rehabilitation, but the egg was taken farther out, to be cracked when Quaggima was ready. According to Bofusdiaga, Quaggima intended to take his children under his wing, male and female both, to start a Quaggian rights movement, a movement that might seek an allegiance with the Council of Worlds, who would be asked to lend certain ships to the task of rescuing abused and dying Quaggi. During the enlightening intercourse that had taken place in the chasm, the Quaggima had acquired strong feelings about Quaggian sexuality.
These effort were still underway when Mouche paid a visit to House Genevois, where he found both Madame and D'Jevier, pale and shadow-faced, grieving the future loss of their people upon Newholme. Mouche hugged them both and told them to keep up their spirits, use their heads, the game wasn't over, there might be a card or two to play yet, burying them in so many hope-inducing cliches that they both laughed.
"Are you coming back to House Genevois, Mouche?" Madame asked. "I will understand if you choose not to do so."
"Questioner has offered to pay off my contract. As for what I will do, I am uncertain at the moment, but I think we would all agree, Madame, that I am an unlikely Consort." He shook out his shock of green hair, letting it flow like seagrass, grinning at her in a devilishly intimate manner.
"You are unlikely, Mouche. You're also unusually impertinent." She gave him a tearful smile.
The smile undid him. He had sworn to himself to say nothing, but these women needed a hint of hope. "Madame, I have set myself the task of changing Questioner's mind. If I fail, keep in your minds that Kaorugi does not want mankind departed from its world, and Kaorugi is capable of much we do not understand."
He dropped a kiss on each forehead and took himself off.
"You'll miss him," said D'Jevier.
"We both will," said Madame. "And I'm so glad the Fauxi-dizalonz fixed his face. But think, Jewy, what he said!"
"About Kaorugi?"
"The last few nights, I've found myself dreaming about him—not sexually—and in the dream he was pointing into the distance and calling, There, there it is, Madame.' I was sure he was pointing to the Fauxi-dizalonz. And what he said just now ... Do you think Bofusdiaga would let us? Some of us? Even ... all of us?"
"If we are to have no mankind future, you mean? Oh, yes, Madame. I've thought of that, too. Could we become? As Mouche has become? Do you suppose the Corojum would ask on our behalf?"
They thought about this, with emotions that ranged moment to moment from revulsion and apprehension to wonderment and hope.
Corojum, speaking, so he said, for Bofusdiaga, had suggested that Q
uestioner transport a quantity of previously unknown Newholme botanicals to test the market among the populated worlds. One or another entity of Dosha seemed to be determined to maintain contact with the outside worlds, though whether this was Bofusdiaga or Kaorugi itself or some new, commercial subentity, Questioner wasn't sure.
Whichever, rather than attempting to deal with the cargo, the captain of The Quest ran true to form by tendering his resignation. "My aunt is the delegate from Caphalonia!" he said. "She wouldn't have obtained an office for me on a cargo ship!"
"Quite right," Questioner had said. "Beneath your dignity. There's a freighter arriving tomorrow. I'll send you home with my entourage."
"But," said the captain.
"Not at all, not at all," Questioner boomed. "Don't thank me. Glad to do it."
The Gablian commander was immediately promoted to captain. Ornery had learned a good deal about cargo in her years as a sailor, and she offered to help the Gablian crew stow the bales and cartons.
Calvy had been so deeply depressed by the Questioner's decision to sterilize mankind upon Newholme that he went into a funk every time he saw his children. Trying to raise his spirits, his wife suggested a visit to the extraordinary caves west of Naibah, and Ellin and Bao were invited to go along.
Thus for a time everyone was busy and occupied except Questioner and Mouche. Mouche wasted no time in asking Questioner to dine with him. He had an agenda, a very specific agenda, which he and Flowing Green had arrived at.
The two met in the side room of a cafe in Sendoph, where they enjoyed a very good early dinner, sipped a little not bad Newholmian wine, and agreed to spend the early evening playing a few hands of Gablian poker. As Mouche had arranged, the room was empty except for themselves, though the walls were no doubt full of eyes and ears, a hundred tattletales ready to run to Bofusdiaga at a moment's notice.
When Questioner arrived she was in a state, as she confessed to Mouche. A mood, Mouche thought of it. Despite the fact that all concerned had managed to avert a tragic outcome of the Quaggian Dilemma (thus far), Questioner had not come away from the episode feeling either satisfied or relieved. Indeed, if anything, she was more irritable and exasperated than before.
Tepper,Sheri - Six Moon Dance Page 48