by John Varley
"Well, yeah, sure, but what I'm saying... ." She trailed off, obviously unsure of what she was saying. "If I could just have... uh-oh, no, I won't say it. I won't ask. I'll be a good girl, okay?" She smiled weakly, ingratiatingly.
"So you're going to back out?"
Cirocco frowned. "I didn't say that. Did I? Come on, Gaby, you know it's dangerous. You said so yourself. What we ought to do is back off, don't rush into it, and in a little while ... well, it'll be obvious what... ." Once more she lost the train of thought.
"Okay," Gaby said, getting up. "I don't know if we have the time, but I thought you'd say something like this. I'm not sure Gene's going to give us the time. I think he was up to something. I don't know what. But this has to be started now, not later. It's just a feasibility study, Rocky. Think of it that way."
"I don't know if I can ... well, do it without arousing suspicion."
"Sure you can."
"No. No, this is too rash. I've thought it over. Wait; then I'll help you."
"No." She waited for Cirocco to understand her, saw the feeble smile slowly fade. "It may be too late already. If you won't do it, I will. And I think I'd better tell those two pilgrims they might be better off without us."
Cirocco started to say something, but Gaby didn't want to hear it. She left the room as quickly as she could.
The Melody Shop had been designed and built with Titanides in mind. The ceilings were high, and the doors were wide. The few carpets were placed only where there were human-sized chairs, a reminder to Titanides to stay off them. Much of the hardwood floor was covered in sawdust or straw. The big table in the library had a human side and a Titanide side, half with chairs and half with straw floors. It had high windows that faced east, toward the Midnight Sea, and a stone fireplace, now cold. Gaby had gathered everyone there because of the view. While she said what she had to say, they could look out over the land they had yet to cover and thus perhaps make a more informed decision.
"I guess there's no easy way to say this. It's doubly hard because of some of the things I've already said to some of you. But from this point I'm rescinding all promises about Cirocco. She is much worse off than I thought. I don't know yet if she'll be going with me, but whether she does or not, it's time to reevaluate decisions you all made based on wrong information. I told you that Rocky would pull out of it and be useful and ... and that she'd be an asset rather than a burden. I can no longer stand behind that."
She scanned the six faces. With the exception of Hautbois, she knew what each of the Titanides would say. About Chris and Robin she was not so sure. Chris had problems of his own, possibly of a temporary nature, and she would never dare guess what Robin might do.
"It boils down to this. I will be going on around the rim. Rocky may join me. You all are welcome if you wish to come. If Rocky goes, she may let one or more of us down in some important ways. By that I mean a little more than just the fact we'd have to take care of her if she managed to get drunk again. That's not the problem. Whether this makes you angry or not, Chris, and you, too, Robin, either of you could put us in the same position and probably will. In a way Rocky has no more control of it than you two do.
"That I'm willing to accept. I can't tell you why, I guess, but I do, for all three of you. I'll take care of you when you're incapacitated, and so will all the Titanides."
"We actually view your disabilities as no more serious than the human trait of falling asleep," Hornpipe put in hesitantly. "It is the same thing for us. When you sleep, we have to look out for you."
"He's got a point," Gaby said. "Anyway, my fears about Rocky are that she will let us down through a failure of nerve. I never thought I'd have to say that, but there it is. I'm no longer sure she'd put the welfare of the group over her own personal needs. I feel I hardly know her. But I have to view her as unreliable.
"As I said, I'm going anyway. What I need to know is what your plans are. Hornpipe?"
"I'll stay with Cirocco. If she goes, fine."
Gaby nodded. She raised her eyebrows to Psaltery, who barely bothered to nod. She knew he would go with her.
"Valiha?"
"I would like to continue on," she said. "But only if Chris goes."
"Right. Hautbois?"
"I must complete the circuit," she said. "I have never been a hindmother, and this is my best chance."
"Okay. Glad to have you. What about you, Chris?"
It looked like an effort for Chris to so much as lift his gaze from the table. He had recovered from his latest attack hours ago, but as usual with attacks in which there had been no memory loss, he was emotionally exhausted and had no more self-esteem than a whipped dog.
"I think you're minimizing the problem," he muttered. "The problem with me, I mean. Why should I expect more of Cirocco than I can of myself?" Valiha reached for his hand, but he jerked it away. "I'll go if you'll have me."
"We knew what we were getting into," Gaby said. "You're welcome here. Robin?"
There was a long pause. Gaby worried while Robin made up her mind. The witch's alternative, so far as Gaby could see, was a climb up the spoke. Robin was capable of setting out on that trip, knowing she would die on the way.
"I'll go," she said finally.
"Sure? Couldn't you back out with honor?"
"Since you offered, yes, I could. But I'll go."
Gaby had no intention of questioning her beyond that
"That leaves only Rocky and Hornpipe as maybes. All right. Gather up your things. Meet me on the front porch in one rev."
It was a somber departure.
The clouds which had for two hectorevs broken on the precipice of Machu Picchu were now sending outriders rolling over the Melody Shop. The celestial spotlight was blotted out. The great white house stood silent in the gloom, its life drained away. Inside, Gaby was latching the storm shutters.
The saddlebags of the Titanides had been reprovisioned. There was little left to do, but still, Gaby bustled about like a vacationer fearful she would forget something. Chris and Robin both knew she was hoping for Cirocco to make an appearance, and neither of them expected the Wizard to do so.
A bolt of lightning flashed between the twin peaks of Cirocco's mountain retreat. The Titanides did not react, but Chris and Robin milled nervously. Chris stepped into Valiha's hand and settled himself on her back. Robin mounted Hautbois. They all waited.
Gaby came out and jumped onto Psaltery. She looked back at the house, in time to see the doorknob turn. Cirocco came out, tall in her red blanket and bare feet. She looked ashen and weak. She came down the steps carefully and walked over to Psaltery and Gaby. She held her hands over her head.
"I don't have anything. See for yourself."
"I'm not going to search you, Rocky."
"Oh." It didn't seem to matter to her. She dropped her arms, then leaned on Psaltery's flank. "You're right, you know. I'd better go with you."
"All right." There was a note of relief in Gaby's voice, but little enthusiasm.
It began to rain once more as they crossed the rope bridge. On the other side, Robin heard a droning noise. It was hard to find the source with the mountains all around. She heard it get louder and then fade away. Both Gaby and Psaltery were anxiously scanning the clouds.
"What was that?"
Gaby shivered. "Don't ask."
21 Hands Across the Sea
"It's a good thing these depressions are transitory," Chris said.
"I should say so." Valiha turned her head to look at Chris. "I have never seen anyone as withdrawn as you were. It must take a lot out of you."
Chris silently agreed with that. He was not completely over it but was making the effort to put on a bright face. One more night's sleep, and he might feel life still had some point.
They had not returned to Ophion after their side trip to the Melody Shop. Though the Circum-Gaea Highway followed the river's bank through the Upper Muse Valley, slides had made it impassable in several places. Instead, they took a path thro
ugh the Asterias. To call it a goat trail would have been like saying a tightrope was the Seaboard Highway. There were places where the humans had to dismount and cling to ropes strung by a Titanide who went ahead, using toeholds so scanty they might have been drawn on the rock. In this, as in so many other things, Titanides were a lot better than Chris. He was beginning to find that annoying. His consolation was that Cirocco and Robin were no better, though Gaby seemed to be part goat and part fly.
There were crevasses to span. The big ones were bridged by lassoing a rock on the other side and crossing hand over hand beneath the rope. Finally, Chris was able to do something better than anyone else. The Titanides could do it, but just barely. He could hardly bear to look as they dangled by their hands.
Any gap less than ten meters wide, however, did not rate a rope bridge. The Titanides simply hurdled it. The first such jump took ten years off his life. After that he closed his eyes.
But at last they descended the final slope. Below them was a narrow band of forest, a narrower beach of black sand, and Nox, the Midnight Sea. It shimmered in the silvery light. Embedded in the water were nebular drifts of luminescence, cold blue beneath the brighter surface reflections. There were harder, more compact light sources, some a warm yellow and others deep and green.
"The light clouds are colonies of fish about this long." Chris looked up and found that Hornpipe was walking beside Valiha. Cirocco was holding thumb and forefinger a few centimeters apart
"They're more like insects, actually, but water-breathing. They're true colonies, with a hive brain like ants or bees. But they don't have a queen. They apparently hold free elections, from what I've been able to learn. Complete with primaries and campaigns and propaganda in the form of pheromones released into the water at election time. The winner is allowed to grow to be a meter long and holds office for seven kilorevs. His function is mainly morale. He releases chemicals that keep the hive happy. If the leader is killed, the hive stops eating and dissolves. At the end of the term the hive eats him. Sanest political system I ever saw."
Chris looked at her hard but could see no hint that she was pulling his leg. He wasn't about to ask her. It was a big surprise that she was talking at all, and he was willing to listen to whatever she felt moved to say. Since leaving the Melody Shop, she had been quiet, exhausted all the time. Though he had seen ample evidence of her human failings, he was more than a little in awe of her.
"Nox is one of the most sterile places in Gaea," she went on "Not many creatures can live here. The water's too clean. There are abysses in there ten kilometers deep. Water gets pumped out and taken to the heat-exchanger fins, boiled, and distilled. When it comes back, it's crystal-clear. If there was light in here, it would be beautiful; you could see down for hundreds of meters."
"It's rather beautiful as it is," Chris ventured.
"Maybe you're right. Yes, I guess it is beautiful to look at. I don't much care for crossing it. Bad memories." She sighed, then pointed out over the water. "That cable in the middle attaches to an island called Minerva. I guess we have to call it an island; the cable is practically the whole thing. There's no real shoreline. Well be stopping off there for a short time."
"What are the other lights? The points."
"Submarines."
Upon arriving on the beach, the Titanides disencumbered themselves of their saddlebags and removed gleaming wedges of steel that proved to be the heads of axes. Moving into the forest with their knives, they soon fashioned handles and began felling trees by the dozen. Chris watched from a safe distance after offering to help and, as usual, getting a polite refusal.
The trees were remarkable. Each was fifteen meters high, straight, and fifty centimeters in diameter. They had no branches but at the tops were giant, gossamer fronds. Chris was reminded of darts sticking out of a board.
"Do the trees seem unusual?" Gaby had joined him while he watched.
"What are they called?"
"You've got me there. I've heard several names. None has stuck officially. I used to call them telephone poles, but that dated me too much. In the woods they're called cabin trees by people who're building cabins. By the sea they're raft trees. It's the same plant, either way. It's probably best to call 'em log trees."
Chris laughed. "Every tree is a log tree when it's cut down."
"But there's no tree that's so good at it as this one. It's an example of Gaea's cooperative side. She sometimes makes things almost too easy. Watch this."
She walked to the top frond of a fallen tree, took out her knife, and deftly severed it. Chris saw the thin tube was hollow. She put her knife into it and slashed upward. The smooth bark ripped and began to tear. It tore the entire length of the trunk, folded back, and bared a moist bole of yellow wood that might have been machined on a lathe.
"I'm impressed."
"That's not all. Valiha, can I borrow that a minute?" The Titanide gave Gaby her ax. Chris knelt while she examined the perfectly flat end revealed when the bark peeled away. There was a grid of lines on it. Gaby swung the ax against one of the lines. It made a solid thunk.
"I'm not as good at this as they are," Gaby muttered. She pulled the blade free and swung again. With a dry clatter the log partitioned itself into a dozen smooth planks. She set one foot on the stack, slung the ax on her shoulder, and grinned as she flexed the muscles of one arm like a scale-model lumberjack.
"I'm impressed."
"It weren't nothin'. Anyway, that's not the end of the amazing wonders. The bark can be turned into strips that are as strong as a steel band. You can use them to lace the logs into a raft. For the next couple revs the stumps will ooze epoxy glue. Only about one in twenty of the trees will fracture into planks. We'll use the regular boles for the bottom of the raft and the planks for decking. That way a stray jolt won't turn the whole thing into a big bundle of lumber. In about four or five revs the raft ought to be ready to launch. End of lecture."
"Not quite," Chris said. "You mentioned this being part of Gaea's cooperative side. Are these trees new things? I mean-"
"Like the Titanides are new? No, I don't think so. More likely they're very old. Older than Gaea. They're one of the species designed by the same folks who built Gaea's forebears, billions of years ago. They seemed to like things handy. So there's the plants that grow transistors and such on one end of the scale, and the basics like these trees and the smilers-which are hypercattle that you can harvest meat from without killing them. Either the designers planned for periods when civilization would fall, or they didn't like noisy factories."
Chris walked down the beach by himself, vaguely troubled. He knew he should be feeling grateful to be along with Cirocco and Gaby, learning all these things that should prove useful if he had to strike out on his own. Instead, he was struck by his own uselessness in the scheme of things. Everything seemed well under control. He couldn't cook, couldn't build a raft, row a canoe-he could not even keep up if called upon to walk. He was supposed to be seeking out adventure, finding a way to become a hero. Instead, he was along for the ride. He no longer truly believed they would encounter anything Gaby and the Titanides could not handle.
The beach sand was very fine. It sparkled, even in the darkness of Rhea. Walking near the trees was tiring, so he moved near the water's edge, where dampness had turned the sand into a firm surface. Nox was still for such a large body of water. Low waves undulated and crested in slow motion. The sound they made was more of a hiss than a roar. Foam lapped at his feet, then melted into the sand.
He had gone out with the intention of washing up. Two days of climbing rocks and riding muddy trails had left him gritty. When he could barely hear the sound of the Titanides' labors, he judged he had come far enough. He stumbled over something nearly invisible against the black sand. It was a pile of clothing.
"Did you bring any soap?"
He squinted toward the sound of the voice and saw a dark circle against the water. Robin raised herself from her squatting position, stood in water u
p to her waist. Concentric silver rings spread away from her.
"It just so happens that I did," Chris said, digging the soft round ball from his pocket. The Wi ... Cirocco said the water was cold."
"It's not too bad. Bring it out here, would you?" She sat again, until only her head showed.
Chris got out of his clothes and cautiously stepped into the water. It was chilly, but he had been in worse. The shore sloped gradually. There were no slimy creatures underfoot, or even any shells. It was smooth, uniform sand, suitable for the filling of hourglasses.
He swam the last few meters, then stood beside her and handed her the ball of soap. She began rubbing it over her upper body.
"Don't drop it," he cautioned. "We'd never find it again."
"I'll be careful. Where did you learn to do that?"
"What? You mean swim? I was so young I don't remember. Just about everyone I know can swim. Can't you?"
"Nobody I know can. Would you teach me?"
"Sure, if we have time."
"Thanks. Would you soap my back?" She handed him the ball.
The request surprised him, but he agreed readily enough. He used his hands perhaps a little more than he had to, and when she did not object, he kneaded her shoulders. There was firm muscle beneath the cold skin. She did the same for him, having to reach high to get his shoulders. He knew he had not even begun to understand her and wished that were not the case. With any other woman he would have felt at ease. He would have kissed her and let her decide what to do from there. He would have accepted her answer, yes or no. With Robin, he didn't feel he dared pose the question.
But why not? he wondered. Did everything have to be done on her terms? Where he came from, it was perfectly all right to make the offer, so long as one was prepared to be turned down. He had no idea how they did such things in the Coven, except to know that the situation could never arise between a man and a woman. Perhaps she was as confused as he, socially.
So when she stopped rubbing his back, he turned, put one hand gently to her cheek, and kissed her on the lips. When he drew away, she looked puzzled.