"I'm happy with the state of things as they stand," I said. "'One day at a time, sweet Jesus,' and all that. Live for the now. Tomorrow can take care of itself. That's my philosophy."
"You aren't the slightest bit intrigued to learn what lies in store?" said Skuld, with a witchy leer and a rub of her gnarled hands. I'd thought people only rubbed their hands in story books, but she did.
"Nope," I said firmly. "Call me boring, but that's the way it is."
"The dear little creature," said Verdande to her sisters. "He acts as though he has a choice."
Cue smug laughter.
"I do," I said. "I do have a choice. I can get up and walk out. You un-press Pause if you like, but I won't be sticking around to watch. I'll be gone. I'll be dust. You see if I won't."
"Very well. Let's put it to the test, shall we?" Verdande clicked the switch, and the image of Abortion at the steering wheel jerked back into motion.
I stood up.
Or thought I did.
I kept standing up. Turning round. Walking out.
But somehow I remained stuck fast to the settee. In my head I was making good my bid for freedom. My body had other plans. Paralysed.
The Astra veered off the road. It bumped over the snowy verge, punched through the wire fence, and careened out into space.
I shut my eyes. Screwed them up tight. I could at least manage that, even if I was powerless to move in every other respect. I heard Abortion's heartfelt cry of "Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" I heard the crashing-crunching-thumping-dinging of the car as it bounced down the hillside. I heard my own grunts and helpless little doglike yelps as the rolling impacts jarred my body. Finally I heard… nothing.
Nothing except an empty, airy hiss.
It went on for a long time. I felt someone tap my knee. Odin.
"Gid," he said. "You may look now."
I opened one eye. Peeked.
All that was on the TV was static. It sizzled, white and black, like a night-time blizzard. Clusters of photons jostling against clusters of darkness, never-endingly.
The Norns looked mighty pleased with themselves, like they'd just pulled off a monumental practical joke.
"That's it?" I said. "That's all? I have no future?"
"Or," said Skuld, "the rest is for you to decide. You are free. Your options are unlimited."
"But you said — "
"The path of the hero," Skuld cut in, "has more branches than even Yggdrasil. Anything and everything is yours for the choosing. There is no certain route, no sure outcome. There is only what is right and what is wrong, and you yourself must be the constant judge of that. That's what being a hero is: freedom of choice. Death or glory. Fight or flight. Honour or shame."
"Coke or Pepsi. Look — stop me if I've said this already — but I don't reckon I am a hero."
"The evidence suggests the contrary," said Verdande, with a wave at the TV.
"The tape would not have ended where it did," said Skuld, "were you of a lesser breed, with more mundane prospects. What appears to be formless chaos is, in fact, endless possibility. Infinite opportunity. You are a rare, fortunate man, Gid Coxall."
I turned to Odin. "Do I trust them?"
"They are the Norns," he answered with a shrug. "Whether to trust them or not isn't really an issue. You simply have to accept everything they say."
"The All-Father may not be all-knowing," said Urd, "but he offers good counsel."
"This isn't some kind of set-up?" I said, suspicious. "Some plan the four of you have concocted together to make me stay?"
The Norns played innocent and offended. Hands to throats. Elaborately shaken heads. Deep frowns.
Odin, for his part, seemed bemused by the whole notion. "I and the Norns, collude? I don't think so, Gid."
"But you keep telling me I'm a hero. Are you trying to, how shall I put this? Seduce me, Mrs Robinson?"
"Aren't you staying?" Odin said. "Aren't you willing to fight on the Aesir's behalf? You appear to be. More so, certainly, than a couple of days ago. Thor's convinced you'll be a terrific asset. He told me you're positively bloodthirsty. You know no restraint."
"I… I've not signed on any dotted line yet."
"But you'd like to."
That solitary eye of his bored into me. I felt like an open book.
"I might," I said. "Maybe if I knew what we're going up against… I mean, that is why you brought me here to the Norns' lovely Hello! magazine spread mansion, isn't it? To clue me in on who the enemy is."
"And you have earned the right to be told," said Urd. She had another videocassette in her hands. A bog-standard black one this time, which she slipped out from a sleeve bearing the Sony logo.
Verdande ejected my gold tape and slotted the new one in.
Skuld said, "This was recorded just days ago."
"What, off the telly? It isn't somebody else's life story then?"
"A broadcast from one of the commercial terrestrial stations," said Urd.
"An episode of a popular documentary series," said Verdande.
"We've trimmed it down to the relevant portions," said Skuld.
I was baffled. They'd just shown me me, some kind of magical filmic compilation of events taken from my life, Gid's Greatest Hits — and now we were about to watch an edited version of a programme off ITV or Channel 4? The contrast was almost surreal.
What the hell. Might as well play couch potato for a bit.
I leaned back, folding my arms behind my head and stretching out my legs.
"Don't suppose anybody's got any popcorn?" I said.
Twenty-Seven
Transcribed excerpts from Makepeace Meets… President Keener
Makepeace: [in studio,to camera] Good evening. I'm Peter Makepeace, and tonight on Makepeace Meets… we have a rare exclusive. For the past three weeks we've been granted continuous, unrestricted access to the subject of this episode. We've been following her every step, filming her while she handles her punishing workload, catching her on off-guard moments, interviewing her candidly one-to-one on several occasions, and also seeing her at home as she juggles the challenges of the most important and difficult job in the world with the arguably no less demanding role of wife and mother. She's a controversial figure, to put it mildly, much loved in her homeland, less so abroad, outspoken, gutsy, not afraid to stand up for what she believes in, intolerant of dissent, a strong advocate of libertarianism and individual responsibility who also implements draconian laws and espouses a hawkish foreign policy. There hasn't been a stateswoman of international standing to match her since Margaret Thatcher. She is, of course, the first female President of the United States, President Keener.
Audio Description Commentary: There is a sequence of shots. We see President Keener going over papers in the Oval Office — climbing aboard Air Force One — meeting a delegation of African heads of state — listening attentively while her daughter practises the violin.
Makepeace: Who is this woman who came from nowhere to seize the most powerful political post on the planet? How do her strong Christian principles influence and inform her decision-making? Why is America so in thrall to her that it has elected her twice, both times by a landslide? And what are her hopes and plans for the future? Over the next hour we are, I believe, going to answer those questions through our unrivalled fly-on-the-wall coverage of the day-to-day dealings of the USA's First Lady. This is Makepeace Meets… President Keener. Keep watching.
Audio Description Commentary: Peter and the president are strolling across a snow-covered White House lawn. They are well-wrapped-up against the weather. She has her arm linked through his.
Mrs Keener: People claim I play up my Georgia roots, Pete. Some of the civil liberties groups say I shouldn't be so darn proud of where I come from. The South has a history, as you may be aware, not that charming a one. But, what, I'm supposed to be ashamed 'cause of stuff my forebears did? Ain't there a statute of limitations on that kinda thing?
Audio Description Commentary: She contin
ues over a montage of scenes of her hometown. Caption: "Wonder Springs, Georgia." We see a leafy street lined with antebellum houses — the sign outside a Baptist church — white and African-American children playing together in a schoolyard — an elderly couple in a swing chair on a front porch — customers in a diner eating pancakes — a pick-up truck driving down a lonely dirt road.
Mrs Keener: What happened back then happened. I can't change it. But if I open my mouth and all some folks hear is the voice of a segregationist or even, God forbid, a slave owner — well, I tell you, the problem ain't with me, it's with them. There's an urban intellectual elite in this country that'd like to think anyplace below the Mason-Dixon line is an embarrassment, an irrelevance, not the real America. But Pete, I beg to differ. They can't dismiss so many millions of Americans just like that. They're the minority. I believe I represent the honest, hard-working, dollar-earning, tax-paying majority. We're the ones who count, not them bow-tied, buttoned-up so-called smart guys in the college towns and the Manhattan high-rises. All they do is chatter and bellyache. The rest of us get out there and actually achieve.
Makepeace: You're just a local girl who got extraordinarily lucky? Who was in the right place at the right time?
Mrs Keener: Pete, that's precisely it! I'm nothing special. How I got to where I am today is simple. I am the people who voted me in. I'm them, and they recognise that. I'm not some overeducated lawyer or some Harvard Business School type. I'm not someone who's spent her entire life in politics and knows nothing else. I speak the same language as most Americans speak. I may not have a pretty turn of phrase or use a bunch of fancy two-bit words, but what I am is someone who says what the average American says and thinks what the average American thinks.
Makepeace: The people's president.
Mrs Keener: You said it.
Makepeace: What about when someone calls you a redneck, Mrs Keener? I'm thinking of a recent New York Times editorial. What do you say to them?
Mrs Keener: What I say to them is there ain't nothing wrong with a bit of sunburn, if it means you've been outdoors working hard. 'Course, these days, we're lucky to see any sun at all, ain't we?
Audio Description Commentary: The president is being given a guided tour of a munitions factory by its CEO and other executives. Caption: "Murdstone Dynamics Engineering Plant, Outside Louisville, Kentucky." Workers on a sheet-metal production line smile as she greets them.
Mrs Keener: You guys are doing such a great job here. Our forces on the frontline have every reason to be grateful to you.
Audio Description Commentary: Mrs Keener breaks away from the group of executives to talk directly to one woman in coveralls and protective goggles.
Mrs Keener: Hey there. How're you doing?
Worker: Can I just say, Lois — oh, may I call you Lois?
Mrs Keener: Of course you may. Your name badge says Darlene. May I call you that?
Worker: I'd be honoured. Can I just say, Lois, we at Murdstone should be thanking you, not the other way round. You've given us so much work. Our jobs are secure. I can go home each night knowing I'm putting food on the table and a roof over my family's head, and I don't have to worry about defence budget cuts and factory closures and being made redundant, which I did with the previous president. You have no idea how much that means.
Mrs Keener: If it means a lot to you, it means a lot to me. No, don't cry, Darlene. You're gonna set me off too. Oh, there, see? You have. Come on, gimme a hug. There you go.
Makepeace: [voiceover] It can't be denied she has the common touch, and I don't think it's just for show. She seems genuinely moved by her reception on the factory floor, and I can't think of another politician who would spontaneously and openly hug a person they'd just met like that, and share a tear with them. It's a remarkable sight. Truly unique.
Mrs Keener: I promise y'all are going to continue to have plenty to keep you busy. Here and at its other plants across the land Murdstone Dynamics has been working on a number of special projects for the Pentagon, which are currently being tested out west in places like Wright Patterson and China Lake and are almost ready to go. Some of you are probably manufacturing ordnance and spare parts for those right now. Keep it up. America's safety, and the safety of the free world, depends on you.
Makepeace: Ted, not a dumb question I hope, but what's it like being the First Husband?
Ted Keener: I won't lie to you, Pete, took some getting used to, to begin with. At first I was thinking, "I can't do this." I had to give up my chain of car dealerships. I had to say goodbye to all my bass-fishing buddies and head off to DC, where I knew nobody. I was a mite anxious. How am I supposed to fill my time? What's the president's consort actually meant to do? But there's plenty here to be getting on with. Brian and Carol Ann have become my priority. I look after them while Mom's off doing president stuff. Take 'em to school, fetch 'em back. Make sure they're eating right. It's a full-time job! Brian's off to college in the fall, so maybe my life will get easier then, but I wouldn't bet on it.
Makepeace: Does your wife find it hard finding time for you, with her schedule?
Ted Keener: Her schedule. Her crazy schedule. Well, we make time for each other. We have to so we just do. I'll admit I don't see as much of her as I once did, and that's a crying shame. But it ain't a surprise, considering. And it ain't for ever, neither. Three more years, and then she's out. So I can bear it. Grin and bear it.
Makepeace: Would you say the job has changed her? Is she still the Lois you used to know? The woman you courted and married?
Audio Description Commentary: Ted Keener spends a while pondering this, gazing out of the window.
Ted Keener: Well, sir, there ain't a simple "yes" or "no" answer to that. The Lord came to her, and that's gonna leave a mark on a person, you know what I'm saying? There's been distinctively two Loises in my life — the Lois she was before her vision and the Lois after. She's a more focused, more passionate woman since then. The old Lois wouldn't have recognised the drive the new Lois has. Sometimes I look at her and I think to myself, who is this lady? It's like I've had to discover, no, rediscover…
Audio Description Commentary: He gazes out of the window again.
Ted Keener: I don't feel like I've lost something, if that's what you're getting at.
Makepeace: "More passionate." In her book she says you two have a hotter love life than ever before.
Ted Keener: Oh, now, sir, you're going to make me blush!
Mrs Keener: We have something in this country, I don't know if you've heard of it, Pete, but it's called Manifest Destiny. It's the belief that America ain't just the greatest country in the world, but that we Americans have a moral obligation to bring our way a life to every corner of the planet. It's what lay behind our forefathers' urge to push west during frontier times, hauling civilisation with them in their covered wagons, and it's been a cornerstone of our domestic and foreign policy ever since. All the great presidents have believed in it — Lincoln, Wilson, Reagan. Manifest Destiny. This nation has been chosen by God to be the pinnacle of all nations, the standard bearer for democracy, the greatest force for good the world has ever known…
Makepeace: And that's the justification for all the military invasions you've instigated during your tenure as Commander in Chief.
Mrs Keener: You say invasions, I say interventions. Tomayto, tomahto. Yes, I've been sending our GIs into global trouble spots, and you know for why? 'Cause it needed to be done. Take North Korea. She was becoming a royal pain in the sit-upon, and our friends the Japanese were getting more and more alarmed by her behaviour, with good reason. So I bit the bullet and sent the boys in. Wasn't an easy decision, nor an easy victory neither, but it had to be done, and now there've been democratic elections just this year, the DMZ between North and South Korea is no longer a minefield, and we have a brand new ally in the Pacific Rim. Same goes for Taiwan. The islanders were kinda concerned about a certain neighbour of theirs across the Taiwan Strait wanting to bring them forci
bly into the fold, as it were, but we've taken over the place and fortified it and shown that neighbour we mean business, and sure, there was some grumbling about that, but now everyone's pals again and we have one of the economic powerhouses of the Far East onside.
Makepeace: That's quite some euphemism for threats of all-out war — "grumbling."
Mrs Keener: Grumbling, is all. There wasn't nothing going to come of it.
Makepeace: How about the Ukraine? That was a, for want of a better phrase, bold gamble on your part.
Mrs Keener: Daring, I'd call it, but it paid off. There was a move there to go back to communist rule. Most Ukrainers didn't want that. We helped 'em resist the political pressure.
Makepeace: By bombing Kiev.
Mrs Keener: Worked, didn't it?
Makepeace: Cuba?
Mrs Keener: Just helping along an inevitable process. The regime there was on its last legs. Like a racehorse that couldn't run no more, it needed putting out of its misery. So we did that, and now Cubans are happier and better off they ever were, and what's more, any American can spark up a nice fat Havana cigar these days without guilt or shame.
Makepeace: Beirut? Jordan? Equatorial Guinea? Kashmir? The Basque region?
Mrs Keener: What's your point here, darling? What are you trying to say?
Makepeace: Nothing. I'm just listing all the sovereign nations which have been exposed to the Keener brand of, er, intervention in the past few years. It's quite a lengthy list. In fact, there hasn't been a single day since you took office when US military personnel haven't been engaged in active service somewhere or other in the world.
Mrs Keener: You say that like it's a bad thing. I know a number of five-star generals who'd think different. What's a standing army for anyway if it ain't for mobilising and deploying? It sure ain't there just to stand. Manifest Destiny, Pete. Manifest Destiny. It's like in my home. If I see some dirt somewhere, why, I'm gonna fetch my broom and sweep it away. It's called doing your domestic duty.
Makepeace: I suppose one might reasonably ask, where's next? Who's Mrs Keener got lined up in her sights next? Have you spotted another patch of dirt that needs attending to?
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