However, the novelty of this situation carried Norton only so far. The power of the Hourglass was still fading, and it required horrendous mental effort for him to keep time flowing backward. At six-fifteen time wavered again.
Fortunately, Agleh now understood. "!nataS thgif tsum uoY" she said. ".uoy pleh lliw I" Her backward expressions were organized only by phrase or sentence; beyond that, his time frame took over. Probably, he realized, the rest of the world was speaking completely backward; near him, the effect was distorted by his own counterlife. That could also account for the way people seemed to become aware of their situation in his presence; elsewhere they might not know that there had been any change at all. He was sure that his presence would have generated many minor paradoxes, like eddy currents in the contrasting time flows, if he had not been immune.
But he did not see how Agleh could help him, generous as her offer was. He tried to explain the problem: his will had to brace the Hourglass, and his will was giving out.
Her brow furrowed in concentration as he collapsed the Hourglass and put it away. ",emiT" she said. ".emit era yllaer uoY"
CHRONOS, he wrote again. IT IS AN OFFICE.
She glanced at him sidelong. "?nam lamron a era uoy nehT"
"Sey," he agreed wryly.
".drawkcab gnivil tuB"
"Sey."
She wrote again: BUT OUR WILLS ARE THE SAME.
He shrugged, not seeing the relevance.
LET MY WILL SUPPORT YOURS, she wrote.
Norton's mouth fell open. Was that possible?
They tried it. Norton relaxed his will, and when time wavered, Agleh concentrated on the objective. It worked—but her will was only a fraction as effective as his. She could buttress him, but could not carry the load alone. Still, that was a great help; it extended the period he could operate.
She touched him, putting her hand on his arm, but proximity did not seem to make a difference to the Hourglass. She was doing all she could, simply by sharing his will.
But now they were standing close together. Agleh ran her tongue over her lip. "?ekil eb dluow ti tahw rednow I"
Norton frowned. "What 'what' would be like? Satan's victory?"
A slight flush crossed her face. "—wonk uoy—namow a—nam A"
Norton figured it out. A woman—a man. Now it was his turn to blush. One moving in one direction in time; the other, the other. Was it possible?
",rednow I" she repeated, licking her lips again.
She was a pretty woman, and though he had known her only briefly, he liked her and sincerely appreciated her help. He wondered, too—what would sex be like in such conditions?
But then time wavered badly, the sand shifting back and forth in the Hourglass. Agleh's support had tided him through almost an hour, but this thought was distracting!
",emit rehto emoS" Agleh said. She was as quick as he to realize that if her will could support his, it could also detract from his.
"Some other time," Norton agreed ruefully. He found himself disappointed, but the flow of time did firm again. He benefited from her support—to a degree.
She backed away from him. Then she shrugged and came back. He half-spread his arms, concentrating on the Hourglass so that time would not waver. She came into them with a kind of half-turning motion, as if being reeled in, and slowly brought her face up to meet his. Gradually they kissed, and it was like any other kiss: pleasant but not strange. They were in phase for this.
Time wavered. He concentrated to return the flow. Then he lifted his head and looked at her face for a moment before releasing her. She opened her eyes and stepped away from him.
They had kissed, and it had been backward for at least one of them—and yet the same.
"?efil ruoy ni nemow rehto neeb evah erehT" she asked.
"Other women," he agreed. "But the one I loved—died."
",deiD" she repeated.
"I think she was—like you."
".uoy knahT"
"I—" he began, but hesitated. Then he used the paper to explain, though it took a while: that he not only lived backward but didn't even belong in this period of time; that his normal existence was eight years in her future; that in due course he would return to this present time but would have to hurdle it, so as not to reduplicate himself. Thus this meeting of theirs was all there was or could be. If he encountered her in his normal progress, they would be traveling in opposite directions. There was, literally, no future for them.
But, she inquired alertly, what of his prior life, before he assumed the office of Chronos?
Norton did a quick reassessment. Eight years ago, in his original life, he had been thirty, in one of the duller periods of employment. He had finally given up the mundane existence entirely, to hike the parks and tell stories for his supper. But suppose he had met a woman such as this? Would he then not have met Orlene?
And not have caused Orlene's death?
"Here is my address of that time," he said abruptly, writing it out on the paper. If such an encounter turned out to be paradoxical, then it simply wouldn't occur; he didn't have to worry about that. "But I'm younger then, and know nothing of my future as Chronos. Maybe it would be better not to tell me."
",dnatsrednu I" she agreed.
It was at that point he became fully aware of the futility of trying to have any continuing relationship with a normal woman. He had run up against this with Orlene, but that had been a special case. Now he realized it was not a special case; backward existence prevented any close relationship with any normal person. This was the penalty he paid for his office. Clotho had known, and had provided him with an alternate fulfillment. Clotho understood the problem of the Incarnations, who were human yet unhuman, himself most of all. As another Incarnation, Clotho could handle it. But Agleh—
",rettel a uoy etirw ll'I" she said.
"A letter, yes," he agreed, surprised.
"?ti dnes I dluohs erehW"
"Where?" Norton pondered. "To Chronos, I suppose, in care of Purgatory." Did the mail service deliver mail to Purgatory? It seemed to him that Thanatos had mentioned that it did, in the course of their last conversation. He wrote the address out for her: CHRONOS, c/o PURGATORY. "But I can't be sure the letter will reach me or that I'll be able to answer. And if it does reach me, I don't know when." Perhaps two years before she wrote it? Reverse time had its pitfalls.
Now it was close to six in the morning. He had come within striking time of his mission. Soon after 5 A.M. ...
A.M.—how significant each marker of that had become! A. for Ante, M. for Meridian—before the meridian of noon. A convenient contraction. It had never seemed very important to him before.
But it was time for him to orient on the conclusion of his mission. He had avoided the questing demons—yet how could he reach the right capsule at the key moment without alerting them? They would be clustering close, and though, as an Incarnation, he was theoretically immune to molestation by Hell's minions, he wasn't sure they couldn't balk him on this. After all, he was the one trying to change reality or to unchange it. The advantage probably lay with the present status quo.
",pleh ll'I" Agleh volunteered.
Involve her with the minions of Satan? Norton didn't like that. NO. DANGEROUS, he wrote.
WHAT IF SATAN WINS? she wrote back. She had him there.
"Hell on Earth," he muttered.
",htraE no lleH" she repeated. And, on paper: CAN YOU DO IT ALONE?
Norton considered. Probably he would have to wait till the last moment, then charge in and hope that nothing balked him. It was a one-chance effort. What were his chances for success? Fifty-fifty? With the fate of the world at issue, he did not like that. But how could he improve the odds?
YOU CAN'T, she wrote.
He sighed. She was probably right. But he wasn't sure how she could help. He certainly didn't want her getting involved with demons; she was too nice a girl. "I'll just have to try it by myself," he told her firmly.
She started to prot
est, but he was firm. The memory of Orlene and her fate bothered him, and he was determined not to be responsible for any more mischief to a mortal.
Agleh relented reluctantly. She wrote: COME BACK IF—
"I will," Norton promised, hoping he wouldn't have to return here. He squeezed her hand and left.
He was getting better at walking backward, though his leg muscles protested. Much could be done with peripheral vision and careful attention to sound. By walking ahead of another person, he could be reasonably certain there were no obstacles in the immediate vicinity, because in forward time he would have been following that person, and the other naturally avoided problems of terrain. In any event, he was now familiar with this region, and that helped.
His plan was to get as close to the key room as he could without being observed and hide until the proper moment. He would catch the demon just after it changed the capsule—which would be just before in normal time—and douse it with the holy water before it retreated back to its association with his prior self. Of course, that would not prevent it from rejoining him, but that was not the point; this would prevent it from messing with the capsule. If he timed his action precisely, the watching demons from this present time might not be able to balk him.
He backed to the shelter of a tree and paused there as if resting. A bird-dropping jumped up from before him to rejoin its origin; good thing he hadn't been standing there! The other pedestrians continued on by, retreating toward their homes without paying him any attention. It was early morning now; the sun was no longer beaming down. When he believed no one was watching, Norton backed slantwise across the lawn to another tree, and thence to a side gate into the Senator's estate. Now he was in a walled in garden, a pleasant place. A child was there, just unpicking a flower; the stem became whole as she placed the severed ends together.
What was she doing here at this hour? The flower wasn't even open yet; it was waiting for a direct ray of sun.
",olleh ,hO" she said, becoming aware of Norton.
"Olleh," he replied, then essayed a question. "Ereh evil uoy od?"
She glanced at him, her brow quirking at his odd pronunciation and emphasis, ".rotisiv a fo rueffuahc eht fo rethguad eht m'I .oN"
Norton found this too much to assimilate, so he just smiled. He wanted to get away from her and into the house. "Gnol os," he said, beginning to back away nonchalantly.
"!ynnuf er'uoY" she said.
Norton proceeded through the garden, handicapped by its unfamiliarity. He stumbled against the footing for a potted tree. Well, now he was alone; he turned about and walked forward.
A man stepped out before him from an alcove in the estate wall. ".sonorhC"
Norton froze. This man recognized him! "Who—?"
The man only smiled. Then Norton saw his eyes. They were like glassy lenses, with dim red lights behind. Demon eyes!
He had been caught by a demon lurking in human form. Now, in the immediate vicinity of Chronos, the demon could interact somewhat on his terms. "!yortseD" it said and grabbed for Norton.
That was warning enough. Norton let his cloak spread out beyond his suit. The man-demon's hands aged and weakened as they came into contact with that cloak. Hastily he hauled them back, cursing backward.
".olleH"
Both men turned. It was the little girl. She had followed Norton, perhaps curious about the odd man.
The demon leaped for her. The girl shrieked but was caught. "!lliK" the demon cried. He drew a wicked-looking knife and held it poised near the child's face while his other hand held her by the hair.
Norton knew he would not be able to disarm the demon before the girl was stabbed. She was a hostage—and the demon would not hesitate to kill her. True demons were minor incarnations of evil, serving only the major Incarnation.
"What do you want?" Norton asked.
",ereh yats tsuJ" the demon said.
Stay here—until it was too late—or early—to stop the other demon's change of the capsule. Or until the last power of the Hourglass gave out. Either way, Satan's victory. He could not tolerate that.
But if he acted, the child would die. He couldn't tolerate that either.
Time wavered—and that gave him a notion. He concentrated, or rather relaxed, letting time flow forward.
The demon put away his knife and let the girl go, bounding back to Norton's vicinity. This time Norton grabbed the demon, his white cloak extended, and held him fast.
The demon screamed. "You're killing my body!" Indeed, the body was aging. The skin wrinkled; the clothing rotted and fell away. In moments the shriveled body collapsed. It had died of old age.
Norton dropped it. The girl was staring, horror-stricken. "You dried him up!" she cried.
"I had to. He was going to hurt you."
"Say—you don't talk funny any more!" Norton remembered. He concentrated, reversing time again. It was like picking up a monstrous load after inadequate respite.
"!erom yna ynnuf klat t'nod uoy—yaS" the girl exclaimed.
Norton took her by the arm and led her away. He knew the demon, now separated from the ambience of Chronos, would not recover—except that that execution would be undone by the resumed retreat of time. Avoidance was therefore best.
"!pu mih deird uoY" the girl cried, horrified.
Something nagged at Norton. It was the demon's last cry: "You're killing my body!" Of course that was literally true; a demon could not take physical form on Earth. Only in very special circumstances did that happen. The demons he had seen before were mere evil spirits, with no substance. This one had had substance—because it had taken possession of a living being.
That meant the demons could act physically here. They could not hurt him, Norton—but they could harm others. That made Norton vulnerable. They could take hostages.
This was too much for him to handle alone. He had dispatched one demon—or at least sent it back to Hell by destroying its living host—but he couldn't afford to chance that again. He had rescued the child, but there were too many other potential victims, and he knew that the minions of Satan would use them. He didn't worry about destroying the living hosts, for he knew that a demon could enter a human body only when invited, and that only the worst elements of society would ever do that inviting. But he couldn't stand to have the blood of one innocent victim on his conscience.
"Go home," he urged the girl. "Find your family and get far away from here. Fast. There is evil afoot."
Wordlessly, the child nodded. Then she ran, taking off backward so fast her hair flung out behind her head, in the direction of her flight.
Norton, reluctantly, returned to Agleh. "You were right," he admitted. "I can't handle it alone. Those demons are taking possession of human bodies and they are unscrupulous. But I'm still not at all certain you can help, and I don't want to risk—"
She waved aside his incomprehensible explanation.
TELL ME THE DETAILS, she wrote.
His eye fell on his ring. "Okay, Sning?" he asked.
Squeeze.
"She can really help?"
Squeeze.
Agleh pointed to the ring. "?cigaM" she asked.
"Cigam," he agreed. And explained briefly about Sning.
"?pleh I nac woh ,gninS" she asked the ring.
Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.
"He can't answer that sort of question," Norton explained. Then, on paper: YES-NO ANSWERS ONLY.
".yrroS .hO" She considered for a moment, then wrote: CAN SNING HELP?
Squeeze. It seemed Sning could read.
Norton was startled. "Directly? Physical action?"
Squeeze.
Time was running short. Together they worked out a campaign. The problem, Sning explained when they found the correct questions, was that demons could emulate human beings by taking possession of human hosts. The minions of Satan could no longer be readily distinguished from innocent people. Norton and Agleh had to find a simple way to tell humans and demons apart, so that they could leave the
former alone and eliminate or avoid the latter.
Sning's poison could make a human being very sick, but should have no effect on a true demon, since that was only a spirit. The spirit demons were patrolling the area, trying to spot Chronos, while the demon-possessed bodies were acting to block him physically. There was no telling how many of each there were, but probably enough to do the job. Satan would have sent in the largest number immediately after the capsule was changed, as that was the critical moment; the network six hours after the event had been relatively thin.
Norton had presumed that the possessed people were worshipers of Satan, doomed to Hell and not worth his sympathy. But now he wondered: could demons somehow borrow the bodies of good people too? Sning reassured him; they could not. Goodness was anathema to the creatures of Hell. But his concern about the hostaging of innocent people in the area was valid, Sning agreed. Only the Senator himself was free of that threat, as Satan would not harm the man whose life he was trying to save for worse things.
Norton couldn't tell the innocents from the possessed, at a distance, and he couldn't afford to get up close without knowing. How could he identify the possessed ahead of time and get by them?
"The regular demons are really thickening," Norton remarked, glancing out the window. "There's one patrolling the street now."
Agleh looked. "?erehW"
He pointed. "There."
She squinted, ".gnihtyna ees t'nod I"
The demon was quite plain. Sning squeezed three times. "You mean she can't see it?" Norton asked, startled.
Squeeze.
He turned to her. "There's a spirit demon there—but you can't see it."
",ti ees t'nac I" she agreed.
"But there is one there. Sning can tell you."
She looked doubtful, so Sning uncurled and crossed to Agleh's waiting hand. Like Orlene, she was not afraid of small serpents.
"!etuc woh ,hO" she exclaimed.
Sning curled around one of her fingers. "Ask him a yes-no question," Norton said.
"?ereht nomed a ereht sI" she asked. Then she jumped. "!em dezeeuqs eH"
"How many times?"
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