Luna not a Senator! Satan must have struck—but how could he have done this without the aid of Chronos?
He traveled to Kilvarough and knocked on Luna's door. The two griffins ignored him; it seemed he would be here often enough in his future, so they knew him.
Luna was home, and looked pretty much as he remembered her. "Why, welcome, Chronos!" she exclaimed. "Thanatos isn't here at the moment—"
"I don't want to intrude, but I must verify something—"
"By all means. Come in."
Inside, he asked her point-blank: "When did you leave political office?"
Her brow furrowed. "I never held political office, Chronos. You know that."
"You forget I live backward, when not deliberately phasing in to your frame, as now." He indicated the green sand. "I do not know your past."
She considered. "Well, I did run for office eighteen years ago. But a tremendous campaign of vilification was waged against me, so that I lost, and I have never cared to repeat the experience. That was my closest approach to office."
Eighteen years ago! "Luna, I know this will sound strange to you, but not long ago I knew you as a Senator destined to balk Satan's major ploy for political power on Earth. Can you believe that?"
"Naturally," she said. "See, the Truthstones support you." She gestured at small gems on the mantel, which were glowing pleasantly. "But I assure you, this is not my reality."
"Reality seems to have changed," he said. "Satan must have done it. If only I could figure out how!"
"Satan was surely behind the campaign against me," she agreed. "But that was so long ago, and he has ignored me since."
"He must have sent another minion back in time to set things up. But how, without my cooperation?"
"You mean that if he had not done so, I might have won that election and commenced a political career?"
"I mean exactly that! You would today be a prominent Senator. And somehow I must restore that career to you, for the sake of humanity! But first I must figure out how he did it. Then I can act to cancel his ploy."
Luna went to a cupboard and fetched another stone. "Perhaps I can help. This is an evil-detector, very sensitive to the presence of the artifacts of Satan." She brought it near him, and it flickered. "There has been evil near you recently, or it will be near you soon, but it is not present now."
"I was in Satan's environment in your near future—"
"No, this is a specific thing you carried with you, close to your body." She moved the stone. It flickered more brightly near his folded Hourglass.
He opened out the Hourglass again so she could inspect it—and the stone flickered more brightly yet. "There was a demon associated with this," she said. "Or will be. It seems to have hidden in the base for a while."
The illusion of color change—a demon had been there, doing it! Naturally Satan had not been able to follow him on his tour of eternity; Norton had to have carried a minion there. And he had never noticed! "It—must have had a spell of invisibility," he said, appalled. "So that I took it whenever I went—and I went the full length of time itself!"
"That would seem to cover the situation," she agreed. "Satan's demons can be very small, like pinheads. There could have been a dozen or a hundred here—and some dropped off at a selected spot in prior time, while others remained to preserve the spell."
"That must have been it," he acknowledged ruefully. "I finally abolished the spell in the farthest future—but I did travel backward in time first. Satan tricked me again!"
"He is the master of guile," she pointed out.
"So he managed to drop at least one demon off to give the demons of that time the word—they do cooperate with one another—and they destroyed your chance to get elected. I'll have to go back and intercept—"
"There could have been a dozen demons dropped off there," she reminded him gently. "If you have intercepted one of Satan's minions before and neutralized it, I'm sure he would be more careful on his next attempt. You could never intercept them all—not with the three-person limit. Some would get through."
"You're probably right," he said glumly. "But I can't just let him win!"
"Perhaps Thanatos can advise you better than I can," she suggested. "Or one of the other Incarnations. Lachesis is wise in the ways of—"
"I've already talked to her. The other Incarnations have been affected by the new reality; only I am aware of the change."
"And Satan," she said. "He surely knows the nature of his mischief."
"Yes. He surely does, damn him!"
"Have you talked to Mars?"
"Mars, the Incarnation of War? No, I haven't met him."
"It occurs to me we are at war—and war is what Mars best understands."
Norton smiled grimly. "Good point, Luna. I will seek him out. Only—" He hesitated. "I don't know how."
She smiled. "Here is a stone attuned to him. It will glow as you approach, and fade as you move away from him. Take it and use it, Chronos."
He accepted the stone. "You are a very helpful woman, Luna."
Again she smiled, and the moonstone she wore at her neck glowed. "So Thanatos informs me." She was about Norton's own age or a little older, beyond the joy of youth, but her features were finely structured and she was a handsome person with excellent poise. She credited her magic stones with providing her an understanding of his situation, an understanding no other person in this reality would have had, but it was more than that. She was a woman of special qualities, experience, and tact. The sort of woman that he, Norton, would have liked to build a relationship with—that perhaps Orlene would have become at this age. The sort that he, Norton, could never have a continuing relationship with.
Once again he felt the burden of his office. How little he had understood the subtle sacrifice of Incarnation! But he could not afford self-pity at the moment; he had a job to do. "Thank you, Luna; I hope Mars can help."
He walked in a circle, watching the stone. When he had determined the direction of brightest glow, he turned the sand yellow. "Farewell!"
She waved, and he was off. He zoomed across the face of the Earth, through buildings and mountains as if they were illusions, becoming more skilled in spatial motion, zeroing in on the Incarnation of War.
He found Mars on a battlefield in mountainous terrain somewhere on the Eurasian continent. Norton hadn't kept track of the landmarks, and the location really didn't matter; he just wanted to talk to the Incarnation.
Tanks were charging a mountain retreat that seemed to be guarded by Oriental dragons. Science against magic—and the two were surprisingly similar. The dragons spurted fire—but so did the flamethrowers of the tanks. There were airplanes, too—but flying dragons were meeting them. The sides seemed even.
Mars was perched on a ledge, watching with detached interest. He was a small man, dressed in faded fatigues. Norton was surprised; he had somehow anticipated a robust giant in Roman-style armor.
Norton phased in beside Mars. "If you have a moment—"
The man looked around. "Oh, hello, Chronos. I always have a moment for you, you know that. What's up?"
"Um, from my view, this is our first meeting."
"Oh, sure, you live backward. I didn't realize this was your beginning." He put out his right hand, and Norton took it. "I'm Mars, Incarnation of War. You're Chronos, Incarnation of Time. We have a long and benevolent association, with mutual respect, ever since you helped this stutterer get started."
Stutterer? Mars wasn't stuttering now! "I—"
"I don't suppose you want to hear my rationale for war as a necessary cauterization of society and stimulus to progress, so I'll spare you that this time. If you're ill at ease, don't be; we're old friends."
"That's nice to know," Norton said awkwardly.. "I really haven't gotten the whole hang of living backward yet, though at least the other Incarnations seem to understand."
"Yeah, I guess it's hell on romance; when you're coming, she's going."
Aptly if unkindly
put! "I think I need your advice, if you have the time."
Mars squinted at the tanks and dragons. "You have the time, no pun; you can freeze the world and leave just the two of us to talk. But this is a minor and inconclusive operation. Pointless, really—but where there's battle, I have to supervise. You know how it is. Spill the beans."
"Uh, yes." And Norton, somewhat haltingly, explained the situation. "So Luna thought you might have a better insight, since this is a war with Satan," he concluded.
Mars nodded. "I have fought Satan myself, and I fear his deviousness prevailed. I am well aware how formidable an opponent he is. I can't tell you how to reverse what he has done, for this is not my MOS, but—"
"MOS?"
"Military-Occupation-Specialty. But I can suggest broad principles of battle strategy that may apply."
Norton had hoped for something more specific, but took this in stride. "Maybe that will help."
"First you have to analyze the patterns of strength—yours and the enemy's. That way you can arrange to attack his weak flank with your strongest force. Force is vitally important and must be understood in detail."
"Force," Norton agreed without much enthusiasm.
"Force," Mars repeated emphatically. He gestured toward the indecisive battle. "See how those fools are opposing force with similar force? They're slaughtering each other and destroying equipment and animals pointlessly. If either side had approached the issue with proper professionalism—" He shook his head sadly. "I hate to see things bungled by amateurs. War is too important for bungling! Now you—you are up against a real professional, the ultimate Master of Deceit, who has already won the battle. It is your task to reverse the outcome after the fact—and that is a considerable challenge."
"Amen!" Norton agreed.
"But you are by no means powerless. You must use what you have—and you have the single most potent tool that exists."
"But—"
"You doubt? Watch." Suddenly a monstrous sword was in Mars' hand. He swung it at Norton. Norton, without thinking, blocked it with the Hourglass.
The blade rebounded. Undismayed, Mars put it away. "To others, your instrument is without substance, but my Sword represents the essence of war and can not be blunted or avoided. Therefore the two instruments meet and balk each other; neither can hurt the other. Force against force, pointlessly. But, properly applied, my Sword is matchless—as is your Hourglass. Not even Satan can stand against these tools, or against the Scythe of Thanatos or the Threads of Fate or the Will of Gaea—if they attack his weaknesses. Only by guile did he nullify my effort to balk his plot to assume political power on Earth, and only by guile did he foil you."
"True. But—"
"You talk too much, Chronos," Mars said with a smile. He produced a clipboard and pen and began marking the sheet of paper. "Now, we know there are only five intrinsic forces in our reality. Let's list them in nominal order of strength." He printed: NUCLEAR STRONG, ELECTROMAGNETIC, NUCLEAR WEAK, GRAVITY, MAGIC. "If you set the first at unity for convenience, or 100, the others are 10-3, 10-5, 10-38, and 10-41."
"Now, wait!" Norton protested. "The whole universe is dominated by gravity; it is the single most compelling factor in the evolution of matter! How can it be rated so weak in comparison with the others? And magic—"
Mars smiled, as if a feint had been effective. "That does seem odd, doesn't it! But sometimes the last shall be first, and the meek do inherit the Earth. Range is the key. The strong nuclear force has a range of about the diameter of a neutron. If another neutron were just one millimeter distant, it would never feel that force, any more than your Hourglass would feel the impact of my Sword if it were just out of range of my swing. That force binds our most basic substance together, and is indeed essential to the integrity of matter, but on our macroscopic scale we don't even feel it. The weak nuclear force is even more limited, having a range only one-hundredth as far. Yet the disruption of these forces leads to nuclear explosions or lethal radiation. They are potent in their proper applications. Electromagnetic force falls in between the strong and the weak nuclear forces in power—but its range is infinite, so we can experience it on our scale. Indeed, we use it for our vision, radio, electricity, magnetism—our civilization would collapse without it."
He gestured toward the ongoing battle. "The motors of those tanks utilize magnetism for their power, for example. But it has one critical limitation: it acts as a force only on charged particles. The most potent magnetic field has no direct effect on wood or human flesh. So magnetism is limited though infinite. Gravity, in contrast, not only has infinite range, it is accumulative and acts on all matter. So, despite its low rating—and 10-38 is almost unimaginably small—on the scale of the universe it becomes the overwhelming force, as you pointed out. The last has become first, because of its nature. Of course the ratings are distorted; if the significance of range was factored in, gravity would be the strongest, if most diffuse, force."
"Yes, I have seen it in action," Norton replied, thinking of the black holes and the way they governed the universes. What was a black hole but a gravity sink? "So its effective force—"
"Effective force," Mars repeated. "There is another key concept. Think of a tiger and a million ants. The tiger has much more force than any ant, or any hundred or thousand ants. But the tiny force of the ants is accumulative and cooperative; together they swarm over the tiger and destroy him, as gravity swarms over the universe. Effective force—you must retain that concept, for it certainly counts most in battle."
"Um, yes, I suppose." Norton was not entirely satisfied with this argument, since it seemed that his Hourglass was the tiger and the minions of Satan were the million ants. "But then magic—"
"A thousand times as feeble as gravity! So weak that for a time scientists doubted its existence!" Mars chuckled, as if it were a great joke. "Can you imagine that? Not believing in magic, simply because you can't detect it in a single molecule? It's pretty hard to detect gravity in a single molecule, too, but they never doubted gravity! The magic in the molecule is overwhelmed by the gravity there; that doesn't mean the magic doesn't exist. But magic has a range of about 107 meters, or about the diameter of Earth. So we can experience it quite conveniently on our scale, without noting any effect on the larger universe. It's like the strong nuclear force, acting only on the neutron touching it; but since all of us are touching Earth, we're in its range. It is true it is weak in absolute terms, but not only is it accumulative, it is focusable, so that the magic inherent in a cubic kilometer of the planet can be brought to bear in concentrated form at a microscopically small point. Think of it as sunlight being focused by a magnifying glass, able to burn holes in solid wood. Thus its malleability causes magic to become, when properly applied, a force more potent than even the strongest of the other forces. The right magic, concentrated 1042 times, can separate the nucleus of an atom nonexplosively, which accounts for the transmutation of lead into gold; or it can interfere with the internal workings of a small black hole." Mars paused to waggle his finger in mock warning. "Now don't you try it with a large black hole! Anywhere the magicons can reach—"
"Don't you mean 'magicians'?" Norton asked. "I do not. The strong nuclear force is carried by gluons, the weak by intermediate vector bosons of several varieties, the electromagnetic by photons, gravity by gravitons, and magic by magicons. Of course, all these basic forces are united by the Reunified Field Theorem—"
"You're getting too technical for me," Norton protested. "I never did understand nuclear physics very well."
"Certainly. My business is force, so I understand forces; your business is time, so you understand aspects of time that would baffle me. It is enough for you to accept that, for you, time is force. Your Hourglass focuses magic more potently than does any other instrument. The Hourglass has the power to balk Satan—if you use it properly."
"That's good to know! But how should I use it?"
Mars spread his hands. "That I can not tell you, for time i
s not my specialty. I can only assure you that the potential is there. My force analysis makes this quite clear." He showed Norton the paper, now filled out with a neat chart of the five intrinsic forces with their strengths, ranges, and carrier particles. "Take this with you; maybe it will help your strategy of battle."
"Uh, thank you," Norton said, uncertain about that.
"Remember, Chronos: fight, never give in, and you shall win. You have the instrument Satan can not overcome. He is Goliath; you are David."
"I'll try," Norton agreed weakly and moved out. If he had to bet on a return match, he would bet on Goliath.
He went back to his mansion in Purgatory, deeply troubled. Mars had expressed confidence in him—but was it justified? It hardly mattered how powerful the Hourglass was or how vulnerable Satan might be—if he did not know how to apply his force to Satan's weakness, what good was it?
When he entered, the butler informed him that he had a caller. No rest for the weary! It was Satan, the last entity he wanted to see at the moment. "Get out, Beelzebub!" he snapped.
"Now, don't be that way. My dear associate," Satan said graciously. "I have glimpsed an alternate reality in which we had a very stimulating encounter. Now it is over, and there need be no hard feelings. I am really not a bad fellow, when you give Me a chance. For example, there is lagniappe for you." He gestured to the television set, and it came on, showing a woman with a healthy baby.
Norton stared. The woman was Orlene! Alive and well!
"In this reality, she survives," Satan said. "Gaea was more alert and refused to do the favor for the foolish ghost. Her baby is not flawed, favors you, and will live to inherit the estate. You may readily verify this for yourself. Go to her, Chronos; she loves you."
With that, Satan opened his suit jacket, revealing emptiness inside. The emptiness expanded as he drew the lapels back around him, until only his two hands holding the lapel remained; then they, too, disappeared, and he was gone.
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