Gatefather

by Orson Scott Card

  Anonoei felt something like a shudder, not in the body, but in Bexoi’s inself; Bexoi was not prepared to endure the visitor’s attention. Yet it could not be escaped, so she shrank. Whatever part of Bexoi it had been that tried to reach into the body and control it now withered, and any part of the body that still clung to Bexoi’s inself was now stripped away. She was only herself now, the ancient part of herself that had once been given such power. Nothing but her naked self, small and terrified. Pain and loss. Alone.

  Are we all this small in death? Anonoei didn’t mean to ask the question; she barely knew she had thought of it.

  But the answer came immediately and clearly, not from Danny but from the one who had come for Bexoi:

  You will be as small or as great as you made yourself.

  Then the stranger was gone, and Bexoi with him.

  Anonoei was in sole possession of the body. It was now her uterus that held the baby. Her hands now clutched herself with a fervent mix of gratitude and unworthiness. Why am I being given such a chance to live?

  “You’ll have to speak aloud now,” said Danny. “I could only communicate with you that directly because you weren’t fully in the body. Now I sense that you’re asking something, but I don’t understand it.”

  That disappointed Anonoei more deeply than she could have expected. It had only been a few minutes that she had felt such a deep connection and communion with Danny North—but she missed it already.

  “I miss it too,” said Danny. “With you. With Pat—the woman I love.”

  “I know who she is to you,” whispered Anonoei.

  “I miss it with This One.”

  It took Anonoei scarcely a heartbeat to understand whom he meant.

  “‘This One’?” It was how she had thought of him, too.

  “It’s what he called himself when we first met. I have no other name for him. But ‘This One’ is name enough for him, when dealing with us. Maybe we’re not capable of understanding his real name.”

  “Does he come to everyone who dies?” asked Wad.

  “I don’t know the rules of Duat,” said Danny. “But when I die, I’d be so … grateful. Honored. If he came for me.”

  “I was grateful that he didn’t notice me,” murmured Wad.

  “He noticed you,” said Anonoei. “He noticed everything.”

  “I know,” said Wad. “But he didn’t make me answer him. I’m not ready to answer him.”

  “Yes, you are,” said Danny. “Answering him is easy, because he already knows.”

  After months of darkness, Anonoei realized that she did not have to remain blind. The eyes were hers now, and she opened them for the first time in months. She had felt so many other sensations in these minutes since the body became truly her own, but now at last she was ready to join the world again, ready for sight.

  Wad was closer to her than she had thought. And he was kneeling beside the bed. Seeing that she could see him now, he reached out a hand to touch her cheek. She welcomed the touch, though it made her tremble, having been so long without sensations of such intensity and power.

  “I know what happened here,” said Wad. “I don’t know how, but I understood it as it happened. And yet when I look at you, it’s still the face of Bexoi.”

  “But not the heart,” said Anonoei.

  “Well,” said Danny, “organically speaking, it is.”

  “Not the mind. Not the will,” said Anonoei.

  Wad pulled her closer to him as he half-rose from the floor. He kissed her lightly and then sat beside her on the bed. “Yes,” he said. “I loved this face once, and these hands. And then, another time, later, I loved this heart and mind, though they wore a different face.”

  “You never gave up on me,” said Anonoei.

  “No lies,” said Wad. “I didn’t understand at all what was going on here. I kept such close vigil because I was afraid that Bexoi would suddenly wake up and begin killing all the wrong people. I didn’t even believe your son when he told me that you weren’t dead.”

  “I mean,” said Anonoei, “that you were willing to believe that I was here after all.”

  Wad shook his head. “Danny showed me where you were. I saw what he was doing, and I saw you learn from him. I never really understood till now how we connected with our bodies.”

  “You still don’t,” said Danny.

  “But I’m closer,” said Wad. “I saw Anonoei take true possession, because the body gave itself to her.”

  “This is the last time,” said Anonoei. “The last time you can say who I am and call me by my own name.”

  “I know,” said Wad.

  “From now on, I have to answer to her name.” Then she realized something else. “I’ll have all her enemies.”

  “Not all,” said Wad. “You will have, as your friend, her worst enemy.” And he bowed his head with false modesty.

  Anonoei wanted to kiss him, as a lover this time. But then she realized: “I have to be faithful to Prayard.”

  “And it’s about time I was his faithful friend and subject, too,” said Wad. “I won’t offer, and you won’t ask. Friends now, and nothing more than that.”

  “And nothing less.” Anonoei kissed him again—not long, but not too briefly, either. “After your long vigil, Wad, will you be kind enough to go invite my husband to come and welcome me to the land of the living?”

  Wad looked at Danny, and Anonoei could see that Wad was asking permission, or so it seemed.

  “We’ll talk about it after you’ve brought Prayard here,” said Danny.

  “I can’t explain you to him,” said Wad.

  “Gatemages don’t have to explain anything,” said Danny with mild amusement. “But I’ll wait somewhere else. What about returning to Ced? I want to talk with him, too.”

  “You know where he is?” asked Wad. And then: “Of course you do. The gate marks him.”

  “Don’t worry. Set is not here. You know that now.”

  “When This One came,” said Wad. “I could see everybody’s ka as bright as fire. Set wasn’t here. And neither was Danny North, though when This One arrived, I knew exactly where you were, and how many billion leagues away.”

  “This temporary body of mine is a good one, a good gift that gave itself to me. I’ll be able to hold on to it until we talk again.”

  “The important thing is that Set is gone,” said Wad.

  “Set isn’t gone,” answered Danny. “He’s still inside my body back on Mittlegard, and I don’t know whether he’s capable of taking control again. I know that if he sees a chance, he’ll try. So I’m not coming to Westil, not in person.”

  Wad nodded. “I think I need to go and get the king. His wife misses him.” He smiled at Anonoei, and to her relief, the smile was kind and gentle—though not without irony and just a touch of bitterness. That was the best part—that he seemed to harbor some regret that she would never again belong to him.

  “If I didn’t have so many reasons for hating Bexoi,” said Anonoei, “I would be jealous of her now because she carries her babies so high and lightly. I know the baby’s due in a very short time, and yet I barely feel pregnant, compared to what it was like with both of the boys.”

  “That’s a comparison you should avoid making,” said Wad. “Because Bexoi only had one other son, and you never saw him.”

  “And you did,” said Anonoei. “I’m so sorry that what you lost can’t be restored to you.”

  “I’m content,” said Wad. “The monster is gone.” Then he looked at Danny. “Or, well, one monster.”

  Danny laughed. “Go and tell the king.”

  Wad left at once. By gate, not by walking.

  Anonoei laughed. “I think you’re the only person that Wad could possibly obey.”

  Danny looked flustered. “I didn’t command him.”

  “You didn’t even say please,” said Anonoei.

  “But I wasn’t—I didn’t—”

  “No, you didn’t,” said Anonoei. “But if you did
command him, do you have any doubt whether he’d obey?”

  Danny shook his head. But then the sound of shouting came, and someone running down a stone-floored corridor. When Anonoei looked up to suggest that Danny really ought to go, he was already gone.

  11

  Pat knew she should dislike Hermia so intensely that she would hate every moment she spent in her company. And for a while, stuck in Veevee’s condo with Hermia, Pat tried to resist any kind of conversation. Terse replies, a clear sense that whenever Hermia spoke to her it was an inconvenience, a burden.

  But that wasn’t how Pat was raised. It bothered her to treat anyone with open rudeness. Pat knew how to be self-protectively quiet, but she also knew that she must answer politely when spoken to. The first rule of good manners was to make the other person comfortable.

  I don’t want Hermia to be comfortable.

  You’re not her jailor. You’re not one of the Furies. Punishing her isn’t your job.

  And, when Pat was honest with herself, she had to admit that Hermia was not only personally charming, she had also experienced many things that Pat envied. World travel—even before gatemagery had reared its head. All the perks of being from a wealthy family. Superbly educated—far beyond anything available to Pat in Buena Vista, Virginia. And more than that—Hermia had seen Danny’s wide-open gates and followed him, then practically forced him to learn how to close his gates. She took bold action at the first opportunity, and then tried to help him.

  Compare that to how Danny and Pat first met—at a high school lunch table, hiding her bad acne under long straight hair, and Danny’s first action was to heal her by passing her through a gate. And what was her response? Not helpful.

  Here was the huge question that nagged at Pat all the time. Danny knew Hermia. Danny had learned from Hermia. So why was Danny in love with Pat, when Hermia was right there? Hermia was everything Pat had always wanted to be—pretty, outgoing, clever, funny, smart. What did Pat have that Hermia lacked?

  It couldn’t just be that Hermia was years older than Danny. Nor that she was from a rival family. Neither fact had kept them from being friends. Danny was a normal heterosexual boy, he couldn’t possibly have missed Hermia’s prettiness. It was quite possible he was oblivious to the way Hermia made herself look available to him—the occasional touches, the looks, the covert eye rolls. As if she and Danny were the only two who got the joke, whatever it was. She was always including Danny in her conversation—even on the balcony, when she had already betrayed him, she was flirting—no, not flirting, but—yes, she was including him, making it clear that in some way she belonged to him. He couldn’t possibly be unaffected by that, even if he wasn’t consciously aware—Danny’s ability to remain oblivious was quite remarkable. Yet because Hermia was far better at it than Xena or Laurette or Sin, Danny never had to speak up to shut it down. Therefore he might be perfectly aware but simply chose not to respond.

  Why didn’t Danny North fall in love with Yllka Argyros—called Hermia because she was a gatemage?

  And was Hermia really in love with Danny, or was she just playing with him? Or was it something even more nefarious—was she playing him, running some sort of Greek-god con?

  I’m jealous of her, even though Danny has never given me the slightest sign that he’s interested in anybody but me. I’m jealous because I know that she is the kind of woman who deserves a man like Danny, and I’m not.

  Crazy thoughts, Pat knew. Yet they kept coming back.

  Danny doesn’t have a crush on Hermia. I’m the one who can’t stop thinking about her. Wishing I could be like her. Knowing that I never can. Not believing that anyone could prefer me to her.

  “I’m no threat to you,” said Hermia.

  Pat was so startled that the book she was reading flipped out of her hands. “I didn’t think you were,” said Pat, retrieving the book.

  “You keep studying me,” said Hermia. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “Do you?” asked Pat.

  “You’re thinking, Danny North is going to fall in love with this amazing Greek bitch goddess, only you have nothing to worry about, it’ll never happen.”

  Pat would have denied it, but since this was exactly what she had been thinking, she didn’t bother. “If he hasn’t fallen for you already, I expect he isn’t going to.”

  “Oh, he will, someday. When all this nonsense is over and he’s able to concentrate on something other than saving the world and keeping control of that devil he’s got trapped inside him. But don’t worry. I’ll wait to let anything happen until you’re already out of the picture.”

  Pat shook her head and returned to her book.

  “You don’t fool me,” said Hermia. “You aren’t actually reading, you’re just trying to keep from making some acid retort to my teasing you about how faithless the gods are. You’re the one who’s right, I admit it. Danny North isn’t your typical strutting god-boy. If there’s anybody in any of the Families who might actually make a decent, reliable husband, who might actually be there to help raise his kids, I think you’ve found him.”

  Pat felt tears begin to well, or at least that thick feeling around the eyes that told her it was about to happen, so she turned away from the feeling. “Hermia, I’m really not trying to answer you tit-for-tat, but … it seems to me that the real reason you keep taunting me about how Danny and I are doomed not to last is because you really are hoping that he’ll turn to you someday.”

  “Well, of course I am,” said Hermia. “He’s the best—and believe me, I’ve seen all the godlings, so I know. Of course, when my Family brought me along to look at the Norths, Danny didn’t exactly stand out. I didn’t know he was the maker of all those gates until long after. The day he made that abortive attempt at a Great Gate and sent all those schoolboys flying into the air over the high school. But since then, I’ve had a chance to compare him to all the others and I’d be a fool not to want him.”

  “I’m sure you make all your romantic decisions based on such stringent analytical processes.”

  Hermia laughed. “‘Romantic,’” she repeated. “Oh my, you are such a drowther.”

  Maybe this was why Danny didn’t like Hermia so much. “The thing that we poor ignorant drowthers call ‘romance’ is the fundamental human longing to be part of a pair bond. You gods may pretend not to have that desire, but you have it. Don’t most of you marry and remain faithful?”

  Hermia was about to answer scornfully, but then she turned thoughtful. “Well, you have a point. And you’re right, we have all the fundamental human drives and desires. So all right, Pat, I’ll call it ‘romance,’ too. In fact, let me go way out on a limb and admit that I ‘love’ Danny North.”

  This was not something Pat wanted to hear. “You say ‘love’ as if you were putting air quotes around the word.”

  Hermia took just a moment to respond, and so Pat demonstrated air quotes, drawing the first two fingers of both hands downward to make quotation marks in the air. “Love,” she said, giving it the air-quote intonation. “I admit that I ‘love’ Danny North.”

  Hermia giggled like a girl. “Oh, yes, I really did that. As if I have to deny the admission even as I make it. No, Pat, I’m not lying in bed pining over the boy, but yes, I care about him and the worst thing in my life right now is that I’ve given him every reason to hate me forever and I don’t know what I can do about it.”

  “Don’t look to me for advice,” said Pat. “I think he doesn’t hate you enough.”

  “Well, he is Danny North. He doesn’t hate any of his enemies enough.”

  “Are you one of his enemies?” asked Pat.

  “He thinks so, and with good reason,” said Hermia. “And he’s not surrounded by people urging him to forgive me. Why couldn’t he have fallen in with a Christian crowd in high school?”

  “We’re Christian,” said Pat. “More or less.”

  “Point proven,” said Hermia. “But yes, I still put ‘love’ in air quotes because I don’
t know if what I’m feeling toward him really is love or even all that romantic. Fascination bordering on obsession—but that’s easily explained by his power. He cannot be ignored. He’s the ultimate mage, the Gatefather beyond all Gatefathers, and now what you and he can do, gateless gating, how can I possibly love him when I have no choice but to worship him?”

  Pat thought about that without answering. Worship. Is that what I feel about him? That’s Xena and Sin, even Laurette, but not me. I don’t worship anybody. I’ve never been able to even be a fan—no actor, no singer, no athlete, nobody that I admired enough to shiver and be all excited to see him in person. I know other people feel that, but …

  “I don’t see you as a quivering worshiper of Danny North,” said Pat finally. “You’ve always treated him as an equal.”

  “Oh, I’ve treated him as being somewhat beneath me. I’m not talking about how I act. I’m talking about what I feel. We’re having a discussion about ‘feelings.’” Hermia made the air quotes again.

  “How very high-school of us,” said Pat.

  “When you think about this discussion later, you’ll conclude that I was just playing you to try to get you to bond with me so I can be excused from this house arrest you and Danny have me under.”

  “Never crossed my mind,” said Pat. “Until now.”

  “It would have,” said Hermia. “Because you’re smart, and it’s true. Until you like me, you won’t trust me. I want very much for you to trust me.”

  “I’ve been pissed off all afternoon because I already like you and I find that shameful and annoying.”

  “Teach me how to do the gateless gate thing that you and Danny do.”

  And there it was. Cut to the chase. Here’s what she really wants—not Danny, not me, not trust, not friendship. Power.

  And yet the power came to me because I was stupid and got myself killed, and for some reason This One decided to let me come back to my dead body and revivify. Why should I guard it?

  Because Hermia has already proven her willingness to use whatever power she has to hurt Danny.

  “I don’t think I can teach you,” said Pat. “If Danny couldn’t teach Veevee…”