And, it didn’t take Billy long to find out that he was a Road-Man himself, blessed with the psychic gene to sense when a temporal exit was going to appear on one of life’s grand highways, an ability greatly enhanced by pot and acid.
Thirty years passed like a dream.
* Dancing in the audience to the thrill and power of Janis Joplin singing Ball and Chain at the Monterey Pop Festival. . .
* Popping ludes with Brian Wilson between recording sessions on the album Good Vibrations. . .
* The surreal experience of watching The Doors opening for Simon and Garfunkel in NYC and singing The End before a stunned uptight audience of thirteen thousand folk music lovers. . .
* Buying Bruce Springsteen a beer after one of his first gigs at a bar in Newark, NJ. . .
* Nearly going deaf due to teen girl shouting while watching The Beatles perform A Hard Day’s Night at Shea Stadium/Candlestick Park, August 15, 1965. . .
* Getting chased out of Lawrinson Hall student dormitory at Syracuse University, September 1982, during The Greatful Dead’s U.S. Festival. . .
* Grooving to The Rolling Stones performing Sympathy For The Devil and getting the shit kicked out of him by the Hell’s Angels at Altamont Speedway, Livermore, CA, December 6, 1969. . .
* Woodstock, Summer of 1969, Yasgur’s Farm, a speed-induced orgy in Max Yasgur’s calving barn. . .
* Conning a 22-year-old Madonna Louise Ciccone into thinking he is an exec with Sire Records and getting the midnight ride of his life Summer of 1980. . .
Damn it life was good.
In fact, the past year had proven the most interesting of all in Billy’s bizarre time-traveling life. It seemed his presence at multiple music venues all over the planet, several at the exact same time, was being noticed and picked up on by a few curious filmmakers, videographers, photographers, and chrono-historians. The myth of the Eternal Roadie or Rock Fan Phantom was a semi-popular fable among concertgoers and music reporters. Nobody had put the theories and observations to print yet, but Billy figured it was only a matter of time.
And what would be the effect on causality and temporal stability if he and his kind got outed? Back during one of his lucid stretches of weeks one summer he’d bumped into a science fiction writer outside of a small sci-fi conference in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Loosening up and sharing a portion of his life story with the man, Billy found himself the audience to a wealth of well thought out contemplations on time travel theory and the dangers and contradictions of temporal paradoxes. The lanky author, balding and smoking a meerschaum pipe, was a warehouse of endless speculations on time dilation, warping space, and general relativity. When it came to Billy’s suggestion of the concept of a physical road through time, though, the writer just laughed. A few hours later Billy bid Roger goodbye and left the combination coffee and head shop with the firm decision that his life was better off just staying buzzed and hitting rock venues. If the time/space continuum was heading toward a cataclysmic explosion or implosion, then fuck it.
Time to have some fun while it was still to be had, Billy thought as he popped a tab of acid. If he timed it right he should be able to hitch The Road and in two days catch Dillon performing Masters of War at The Gaslight Café.
*
Billy reached the exit and groaned. He’d screwed up again. Must have missed it by a good two years he figured. Suddenly a van pulled off onto the shoulder of the road and its side door popped open.
“Need a ride man?” A strange lisping woman said.
“Sure” Billy answered and ambled his way over and into the flower-child mobile.
The vehicle drove right onto the off ramp and away from the highway just as a temporal-exit-shift blurred the air in front of Billy’s weary bloodshot eyes.
“Smooth move, Exlax.” He said.
The big blonde guy driving just nodded his head in reply. Something funny about the freaks Billy was now riding with though.
Oh they weren’t all that unusual at first glance. The driver was a gene-splice from the Funshuku-Satellite Colony, still sporting his cranial downlink prods. The green chicks obviously a couple of pleasure-shemps from one of the Atlantic underwater globe resorts, and the two redheads a pair of XZ gratification clones. The rest were your usual mix of C-15 through C-22 hitchers and road whores, not all that different from Billy himself.
“Yah!” The Driver shouted out. “Boston. Massachusetts. C-20 alright. Maybe late 60's. . .”
No. Billy thought desperately. No.
“Hey. I see some fresh meat looking to lift,” One of the shemps trilled. “And he’s young and cute. Lets stop!”
Billy squinted his eyes and saw his life come full circle. There he was, a sixteen-year-old boy about to embrace eternity.
“Don’t stop,” Billy shouted and started standing up.
A split second later a sharp staggering pain flooded his right arm and chest. Billy dropped back down struggling unsuccessfully to breathe. His heart, abused with drugs and booze and concert-vendor fat-fried food for over thirty years, just gave out.
“Ewwwwwwww,” One of the Shemps squealed. “Gramps took a dirt-nap!”
Two men, a couple of passengers looking like village-rejects from an old Frankenstein movie, quickly stuffed Billy’s fresh corpse into a large grey disposal bag as the van came to a stop. They dumped his body out the back door just after the young Hitcher was pulled inside.
They sped away.
“Uh.” Young Billy muttered. “You guys going to a Halloween party or something?”
The Aspect of Dawn
by Shariann Lewitt
They had all come to Keenset to stand against Heaven. Why Keenset? Innovation among the humans seemed to have visited this city as if it were the Aspect of a Deity, though of course to even think that would be heresy. Yet humans here were inventing, rediscovering technologies or perhaps creating them anew, who could say? It was all very strange that so many new ideas emerged in this one city in the South, but there it was.
Naturally, Brahma blamed Sam. This time Sam wasn’t going to back away.
Sam, of course, also known as Siddhartha and the Buddha, was ready to fight the forces of Trimurti for Acceleration. Ratri, goddess of the night was with him, as were Kubera and the Rakasha and many of the lesser gods. Kubera drilled the thousands of men who mustered to defend the city where piece by painful piece men had rediscovered the printing press and plumbing, and perhaps more to come. Sam held his councils of war and awaited Nirriti with his troops of the dead.
Along with them was one inconspicuous ape. Among all the others who stole fruit from laden tables and swung between branches and the deep eaves of temples, no one noticed one ape in particular. They all looked the same. In any case, who cared to notice when gods gathered and demons ran free across the plain and everyone knew that something great, something mighty, was about to unfold. Most reasonable folks were afraid. Many of those younger, who had grown up on tales of adventure without any concept of what real battle entailed, enlisted.
Ratri did not stay at the Palace where Sam and Kubera had made their headquarters. She had withdrawn to her Temple in the center of town. Not one of her larger establishments, it was still elegant and quiet, built of black marble that had been richly carved with stories from her various lives, lit by fires burning in tall brass stands that shed more shadows than light.
An armorer attended her in her private chamber, having been called upon to make black armor for the battle to come. He had never made armor for a lady before, let alone a goddess, let alone a goddess of such distinct beauty. The breastplate fit tolerably well but his hands trembled as he tried to buckle it in place and he averted his eyes from his creation.
“You will not be able to fit it correctly if you do not look at me,” the goddess complained fretfully. “Now adjust it as if I were any soldier, or at least any general, who you were fitting.”
“Yes, Lady,” he said, and bowed, but he could not bring himself to actually judge how the metal
lay against her skin (luscious skin that sparkled like the depths of the night, almost the color of the midnight sheen he had worked so hard to burnish into the metal now on her body.) He dared not touch her as he adjusted the straps and so he could not tell if they needed to be tighter or let out.
“Oh here, let me,” a voice interrupted his confusion. And since he could not look, he could not tell at first that it was not a man who had spoken. It was, in fact, an ape, with clever hands and no fear of the goddess at all.
Ratri smiled. “Thank you, Tak. Have you heard anything of Ushas? She should have been here before now. I know she is in the city.”
The ape shook his head. “Not a thing, Lady. I’ve gone out to listen. People talk in front of me, but Dawn came as usual this morning across the sky and disappeared into the sunlight. She didn’t stop here. And I haven’t heard anything about any demigods leaving the main pack and heading this way, either.”
Ratri paced. “I know my sister. Ushas would have joined our main body by now if she hadn’t been delayed. By them.”
Tak, the ape, knew exactly what she meant and tried to diffuse her clear concern. “She was going to try to bring a group with her. She needs to convince them, and many of the demigods can be. . .”
Ratri smiled. “Lazy. Selfish. Completely mercenary, which is how they achieved their rank in the first place. Ushas is such an idealist. I tried to talk her out of it, make her see reason. I tried to get her to leave earlier but she was so sure she could turn a few of them with her Aspect. What do you think of the armor?”
“Looks magnificent. They’ll have to carve a whole new chamber in the Temple to commemorate this. But how does it feel? Can you move easily? Is it too heavy on your shoulders? Does it dig in anywhere?”
“Chafes a bit under my arm, now that I think about it,” Ratri said to the armorer. “Can you do anything about that?”
Not having to actually touch her, and called on in his realm of expertise, he recovered his composure. “Swing your arms around as if you were swinging a sword. Now up and down as if you were mounting a horse. Now walk a bit. Anything other than the chafing? Show me exactly where it is uncomfortable.”
The armorer marked it with a yellow wax crayon. Ritra sighed. “That color makes me think of Ushas. Can you fix the armor?”
“Yes, of course Lady. Now move again and make sure where I marked is the only place it is uncomfortable. I’ll have this for you tomorrow.”
Ritra swung her arms a few more times and climbed up on the seat of a chair to make sure she could get onto a horse, then shook her head. “I think that’s got it.” The armorer unbuckled the goddess and left with pieces that he hadn’t contoured quite right wrapped in midnight quilting.
“Can you find out what is keeping her, Tak?” the goddess asked when the armorer was well away. “I’m afraid something’s gone wrong and she’s in danger.”
The ape blinked. “I do not think I can get to Heaven without a ride, or it will take me a very long time.”
Ritra laughed. “Oh, no, dear Tak. Ushas is here in Keenset. She has a lovely pleasure palace outside the city walls near the river with the most charming glade and grotto and courtyards. She’s been here for nearly a year. Why do you think this revolution in thought started here? That is her Aspect, after all. Didn’t you know? No, what I mean is why has she not joined us here for our councils? I know she had asked some of the demigods who she thought might be sympathetic to be her guests in the hope of winning them to our side, but I have heard nothing from her for days, not a call, not a note, nothing. It is not like her. I don’t know why she thought they would be any use to us, though perhaps keeping them from fighting for the other side would be useful. I don’t know. But I haven’t heard from her for days and a few of her guests are not the better sort at all and oh, Tak, you are my friend. You understand?”
“Of course, my goddess.” He lowered his eyes and remembered, and wondered if she remembered too, when he had been a man and the Archivist of Heaven. When she had once danced with him on rose petals. When she had favored him.
What she asked was a little thing, something very easy for an ape to do. And in any case, there was little else he could do. It was not like he could contribute much to the war effort in his present form and often he felt that he was only in the way.
*
“It bugs me, that ape hanging on that tree outside the window. He keeps sneaking in here, too,” said Bhairav.
“No one else is eating the bananas,” Maya observed. “So why do you care if he steals a few?” She shrugged her lovely shoulders and picked delicately at the repast that sat in front of the large window where the ape was not the only animal that hung outside waiting to forage.
Small songbirds fought with doves and even peacocks for the bits of cashew and grains of saffron rice that littered the table. A sloth had picked at an ornamental leaf and two ravens boldly wandered about the detritus of the meal tearing any stray meat they could find clinging to bones. The smaller raven stuck his beak into two of the cups and slurped noisily, clearly satisfied with the wine.
Why, then, notice one more creature picking at their leftovers?
Bhairav made a face. “It just bugs me, you know? Maybe because he takes whole ones instead of picking up the pieces.”
“There are no pieces. No one’s been eating the bananas. You’re just nervous,” Maya said. “Do you really think that anyone is going to notice that little bitch is gone, or look for her? And really, we can just tell them the truth if it comes up.”
Bhairav glanced at the gloriously beautiful demigoddess tied up in the far corner of the room. Her golden veil had been bound through her mouth as a gag and pale rose scarves secured her firmly to the armchair brought for this one purpose. She tried to scream out but the veil effectively cut off her voice and so nothing but the faintest sound emanated from her contorted face.
Maya stood in front of the prisoner and grinned. “You thought you had it all over me, didn’t you. You and me, it always comes down to that, doesn’t it, Ushas? Well, I win this time. You and your friends, you’re not going to get away with it. And your friends will all agree with me anyway. They only came here because you invited them and you have such a pretty place. That’s all you do, start the sunlight, so sweet.” Maya made a face at the bound demigoddess. “If you promise to shut up I’ll untie the gag.”
The bound demigoddess nodded.
“On second thought, I’m not sure I can trust you. So we’ll just leave you here while I go meet with your little cabal. Not that they will have any idea, of course. I can do you oh so well. And who shall I make Bhairav look like? Kamdev? That would be hilarious. I could just see you as the sweet little love god with the honey bees.” She giggled. “Or how about one of the Ashwini twins? What a pair of goody two-shoes. Could be fun, though, to see Bhairav trying to impersonate one of them. What do you think, Mr. Warrior? Can you pull it off?”
The demigod of War appeared most miserable at the thought. “What about the real Ashwini? Won’t they be there?”
Lady Maya, demigoddess of illusion, tittered. “No. They’re such scrupulous good boys that they refuse to take sides. Healing is for all, as they keep saying. Any who are sick or injured have claim to their skills.”
“But won’t it be suspicious if one is there and not the other? Have you ever seen them apart?”
Maya thought a moment and then shrugged. “It’s one of them or Kamdev, take your pick.”
“Great, a wuss with a sugar cane bow, or a horse-head doctor. How about someone a little more exciting?”
Maya shook her head. “That’s it, I’m afraid. For demis who are on the other side, or at least wavering, and I am dead certain will be absent.”
Bhairav considered his options as the ape bounced on the windowsill and grabbed another banana.
“I’ll go with the horse heads then. At least they’re not idiots, and they’re warriors when they’re not healing people.”
Maya nodded, and
then waved her hand and a ripple of force flowed through the air like a wave deep in water. When it had passed, to the eye Bhairav and Maya stood there no longer. Instead of a four armed war god and lovely red haired goddess of illusion stood a horse-headed god of healing and speed and the breathtakingly beautiful goddess of dawn. Who sat bound to the armchair in the corner, the golden veil still gagging her mouth.
Ushas of illusion smiled at Ushas bound. For all her great beauty, it was not a pretty smile. “I believe your friends are meeting in the Courtyard of the Sunlight Lotus before sunset. We can’t deprive them of your presence, and guidance in the matter of best to break with their betters. Ta, later.”
And with that, Ushas and one of the Ashwini twins swept out of the room. Followed by fury in bound Ushas’s eyes.
The ape on the table finished his banana, tossed the peel out the window as he had done with the previous three, but this time did not retreat back to the huge banyan tree that shaded this side of the palace. No, this time he hopped off the table onto the tiled floor and made his way over to the bound demigoddess.
“Do not worry, Lady,” he murmured as he untied her gag. “But please try to remain quiet so that your captors don’t realize you’ve been released. At least not quite yet.” With that, he untied the lovely rose scarves around her wrists and ankles, and then rubbed the skin where the silk had bit cruelly into her legs and now made it difficult for her to stand.
“Ow, ow, ow,” said the Goddess of the Dawn as the circulation returned to her hands and feet. She grabbed the sturdy arms of the chair that had held her for balance as she hopped from one foot to the other. Only after she had reestablished her ability to stand did she notice the ape standing at her side.
“Would you like a mango? I’m sorry, but the bananas are all gone.” He held out a very tempting yellow fruit with a deep red blush, just the colors of the dawn. Ushas smiled at him.
“Thank you, but I believe I have some work to do.”
“That is true, Lady, but you’ll need your voice. Maybe some of this limeade, at least? Because that gag didn’t do you any good.”
Shadows & Reflections: A Roger Zelazny Tribute Anthology Page 21