Incarnations of Immortality

by Anthony, Piers

  If so, she should reverse course and get out of here. But that would mean encountering the two demons she had passed—and they surely would not let her travel that way. She could get killed twice, costing her four threads. These were more sophisticated than the prior monsters;

  they hadn't had to kill her as long as she was going in the direction Satan desired. And if she managed to get back past them—where would she find the correct route? She had no idea.

  She concluded that she simply had to gamble on this being the right course. It was after all possible that the demons were merely trying to make her think she was going wrong. Wouldn't that be an irony: for her to turn away from the correct route, simply because the demons let her pass!

  Meanwhile, she had an advantage: she knew that Satan was not about to force her to lose two threads. He wanted her to lose at least three. That must be the minimum number she needed for victory. He was willing to throw away illusions; they didn't matter. It was the threads that counted.

  Yet all this had been set up before she entered the maze. How could Satan have known how many threads she would have left?

  She resumed her walking, ill at ease. And—another person approached.

  It was Blanche, Pacian's first wife who had been killed by the demon at the wedding. Again, there was no way Blanche could have gone to Hell; she had always been a good woman. This was another demon—or demoness— clothed by illusion. She could be handled as the others had been.

  "Blanche!" Niobe cried, approaching her with open arms. "I'm so glad to see you!"

  Blanche did not blanch. She came right up and embraced Niobe. She felt completely human and real. "Thank you so much for taking care of my husband!"

  This was a new approach! Apparently the creatures of Hell were not always repelled by affection. Maybe demonesses were more gentle, as they were commonly used to seduce men to evil—literally. If they were driven away by love, they would not be able to perform. How, then, could she get rid of this one? "You don't resent that I married him after you died?"

  "Oh, no, dear!" Blanche exclaimed. "He was such a good man, he deserved the best—and you were the best. He always loved you, of course, because of your beauty;

  it was only right that he have opportunity to enjoy it before it faded."

  The demoness was beginning to get into it! The stilettoes of women were more subtle than those of men, but no less sharp. "I'm so glad you understand," Niobe said with as much warmth as she could manage. "The prophecy said he would possess the most beautiful woman of her generation, and obviously you weren't it."

  "All too true!" Blanche agreed without rancor. "I feel privileged to have shared what part of his love I could, while I could, and to have had a lovely child by him."

  "Yes, my son the Magician married her," Niobe agreed. She seemed to be unable to rattle this demoness, and she was not enjoying the effort. This woman was too much like the real Blanche, always good and giving. "I'm on my way to see him now."

  "Yes, I know. I'll be glad to help you find him."

  What? For a moment Niobe reeled with doubt. Could this be the real Blanche? She could verify it with a thread...

  No! That might be part of the trap. Use a thread on this demoness, verify what she was, and then be killed by her: three threads gone, and Satan's victory. Qr try to retreat from her, and have to run the gauntlet of two male demons behind. A losing strategy, surely.

  Blanche had to be in Heaven. This had to be an illusion/ demoness, playing her part the way only a female could. The males had failed, but the females were more adept.

  Well, if she couldn't get rid of this one, she would have to play along. "Why, thank you, Blanche! But this is, after all. Hell. Will Satan permit it?"

  "We aren't completely evil, even in Hell," Blanche reminded her. "We're just more evil than good. What good I possess is tied up with Pacian and my daughter and your son. I will help you reach him—but I am not allowed to tell you anything. You understand."

  "I understand." But she did not understand. This was exactly the way the real Blanche would have acted—but what demoness would help an intruder defeat her master? There had to be a limit to the playing of a part—didn't there?

  Disquieted, Niobe continued her walk, and Blanche paced her. If this was another one of Satan's traps, it was too sophisticated for her to fathom at the moment.

  Unless, she realized abruptly, Satan wanted her to reach her son. Or to encourage her to believe she could reach him. Naturally he would provide her all needed assistance—to go the wrong way.

  Well, she was stuck for it. The game was getting more devious, as Satan proceeded from straight maze-challenges to psychological ones, but it wasn't over until it was over. The outcome hadn't been decided yet, for she still had five threads.

  Another person showed. The next demon—and she hadn't yet gotten rid of the last one!

  It was Blenda, the Magician's wife, mother of Luna. This was getting eerie indeed!

  "Mother!" Blenda cried.

  "My baby!" Blanche cried.

  The two swept together and hugged each other, shedding tears. Niobe watched, bemused. They had to be two demonesses—yet they acted real in all ways. Blenda was not the perfect beauty she had been in youth, but the somewhat wasted woman who had died of leukemia at age forty-seven, leaving the Magician a widower. His magic had extended her life, but had not been able to cure her. So she, too, had entered the Afterlife—but not Hell. She had at one point been a virtual twin of Niobe's, and Niobe had known her well—a woman with very little evil.

  Then Blenda turned to her. "I'm so glad to see you so well, Niobe!"

  So well? Hardly! But compared to Blenda, she was healthy. Niobe didn't even try to unmask her; she hugged Blenda and exchanged pleasantries.

  "So now you're coming to talk with my husband," Blenda said.

  "My son," Niobe agreed. "He has the answer I need."

  "I will help you find him," Blenda said. "I haven't seen him since I died."

  Surely not! Blenda was in Heaven, the Magician in Hell. But Niobe had to play along. "Why not? He's been here for two years."

  Her mouth quirked. "We don't get visiting privileges. That's part of our punishment."

  Niobe had to admit that made sense. So now she had two demonesses ready to help her find her son. Curiouser yet!

  Niobe set off again, paced by a woman on either side. She had five threads, and only four unidentified illusions remained.

  "How are the girls?" Blenda asked.

  "Orb's on tour," Niobe answered shortly. "Luna's getting into politics."

  "Oh, yes—to foil Satan!" Blenda agreed. "But you need the Magician's advice."

  Another form appeared. In fact it was three forms: outright demons. Evidently Satan was not about to expend three of his four remaining illusions on these; he had to send them in undisguised. They spied the women and hurried toward them.

  "Watch out for them!" Blanche cried. "I know their kind! If they get us outnumbered, they'll rape us or eat us!"

  "Or both," Blenda amended.

  "Or both," Blanche agreed. "We must stay together; then they won't try it. They're cowardly; they must have numerical advantage, or they won't act."

  Niobe did not comment. As far as she was concerned, she was now in the company of five demons. How was she going to get out of this? Why hadn't Satan simply sent ten demons?

  The demons came close. They had horns and tails and hooves and obvious masculine appendages, in the manner of their kind. They eyed the women. "You need company?" one asked.

  "Oh, go away, you foul fiend!" Blenda exclaimed. The demon considered, evidently trying to figure out how to separate the three women so that they would become vulnerable. "Maybe we help," he said. "You want cross river?"

  "Yes," Niobe said. It was, after all, the truth; she could see that the path on this side came to an end a short distance ahead.

  "We help. We got boat."

  "Why should you help us cross?" Niobe demanded. With
overt demons, at least she didn't have to pretend.

  The demon looked at her. It licked its lips. It shifted its posterior. It didn't answer.

  It hardly needed to. The demons would help one woman cross, so that the three would be separated. Then the three demons would converge on the one or two women, and do their dirty work.

  Would one demon actually rape or eat a demoness? Apparently so, by the rules that evidently governed this strange portion of-the maze. Perhaps it was just Niobe who would be attacked, once she was separated from her "friends."

  Well, the answer was simple. They would all cross together. If the women intended to desert her, they would have done so already. It seemed that they would stand by her—for now.

  "Show us your boat," Niobe said.

  The demons showed the boat. It was a small canoe, just big enough for two. It was obvious that it would sink if any more got on it.

  Niobe looked at Blanche and Blenda. They spread their hands. It was clear that it was not possible for the three of them to cross together.

  But if they did not, one or two of them would be left to the appetites of the demons. Niobe might cross alone, but she realized that she could not in conscience leave the other two women to that fate, even if they were demonesses beneath. They had not betrayed her, so far; she was unwilling to be the one to initiate that sort of thing. This might be Hell, but she carried her standards with her.

  Perhaps that was the real nature of this test: to ascertain whether she would desert her conscience when it seemed convenient to do so. An ethical standard that bowed to convenience was not worth much.

  She considered crossing with one demon, so as to keep it even on both sides of the river. But then that demon could cross back after Niobe went on, making it three to two. Or it could return to fetch across another demon, both of which could pursue Niobe.

  She had to arrange to get all three women across— without ever letting any of them be outnumbered, on either side of the river. That was the only proper course.

  She pondered. She remembered something that might help: a series of intellectual riddles she and Cedric had struggled with during their first summer. He had been uncannily bright, and she knew in distant retrospect that the foundation of her love for him had been laid when the power of his mind began to show in such games. He had seemed like little more than a boy, then—but what a bonnie boy!

  She felt the tears starting and shook herself out of the reverie. She was, after all, in Hell.

  One of those riddles had been the story of a river crossing: three civilized hunters, with three untrustworthy natives. They had had to cross the river, using a two-man boat, without ever letting the natives outnumber the hunters. Exactly the problem she faced here! So she knew there was an answer—

  But she didn't remember it.

  The others stood there, looking at her—the two women and the three demons. Yes, this was definitely a test, an aspect of the maze. She had been able to unravel the confusions of passages and illusions, and to survive the rigors of the snowy slope, and to get by the robot factory, but now the maze was focusing increasingly on her weakness: intellect. She had never claimed to have more than ordinary intelligence, though she had been attracted to smart men.

  If she could solve this riddle, she could proceed; if not, she would shortly commence her Afterlife in Hell with a truly Hellish experience.

  Did Satan know of her prior exposure to this puzzle? Did it suit his humor to dangle the prize this close, to see whether she could come through? What an exquisite torture it would be, to know she had had victory within her reach and had been unable to grasp it! He had even sent a demon in the guise of Cedric, to remind her!

  "Damn you, Satan!" she swore under her breath. She thought she heard a responding chuckle, though perhaps that was merely a ripple in the river.

  She concentrated. How had that long-ago puzzle gone? Two women could cross first—no, that would leave the third with all three demons. Well, one woman and one demon could cross, keeping it even. Then—oops! Who would bring the boat back? The woman would have to. Then there would be three women and two demons on the near bank, and a lone demon on the far bank. Then one woman and one demon could cross—and when they got to the far bank, there would be two demons to one woman there. No good.

  Well, suppose two demons crossed first? One would bring the boat back. Then two women—no, that left two demons and one woman on the near shore.

  No matter how she tried it, at some point she encountered an imbalance. It seemed impossible to cross successfully—yet she knew there was an answer! Cedric had worked it out.

  There was a key—a special way of looking at it. Something that the ordinary person, like her, did not think of. What was it?

  She pictured Cedric's boyish face, the tousled hair tumbling over his forehead. He had shown her the key, such a simple, obvious thing, and she had laughed ruefully.

  Cedric! she thought, her ancient love for him suffusing her. I need you!

  And then she thought: return. Perhaps she had heard Cedric say it, her love bringing back the dear memory of his voice.

  The key was in the boat's return trip. Something surprising, nonsensical—until understood. The return orThen she had it. Thanks to Cedric, Luna's grandfather, she knew how to cross the river and save Luna. Satan had gotten too cute, taunting her; she had gotten away with the bait.

  "Two of you take this boat across," she directed the demons.

  They didn't argue. They got into the canoe and dipped their hand-paws in to paddle, not bothering with the paddles that lay in the bottom of the craft. The carnivorous fish swarmed, biting at the hands. When a fish took hold, a demon simply drew his hand out of the water along with the attached fish, brought it to his mouth, and chomped the fish. In a moment the eater became the eaten, and the paddling resumed.

  Soon they were across. "Now one of you get out; the other bring it back," Niobe called. The demons shrugged; one got out and stood on the bank, while the other dogpaddled the canoe back by sitting in the front and pulling it along. It wasn't a smooth trip, but in due course the demon got there.

  "Two more of you cross," Niobe said.

  Two crossed. When they arrived, all three demons were on the far bank, while all three women remained on the near one.

  "Now one of you bring it back," Niobe called.

  "But if one of us crosses next—" Blanche said worriedly.

  "Don't worry," Niobe said.

  The demon arrived back. The two on the far shore licked their gross chops, anticipating something pleasant on the next crossing.

  "Now two of us will cross," Niobe said. "Come on, Blanche."

  "But I—" Blenda protested.

  "You will have the company of one demon," Niobe said. "No problem."

  She and Blanche took up the paddles and started off. The fish swarmed in again, but found nothing tender to chomp. The journey was somewhat erratic, as neither woman was experienced, and at times Niobe feared they would tip the craft over in their effort to keep it on course, but they did eventually make it across. The fish clacked their teeth angrily.

  Now there were two women and two demons on this bank, one of each on the other. Who was going back: a woman or a demon?

  "One of each," Niobe said. "I'll go—and you." She picked a demon.

  The demon shrugged and joined her in the boat. It didn't know what she was up to, but was sure that sooner or later it would find the women outnumbered.

  It was eerie, riding with the demon. She knew it could overturn the canoe at any point, dumping her in the water and costing her a life. But she also knew the demon wouldn't do it. It would attack only when it had the advantage of numbers. She was finessing Satan, offering him the chance to penalize her two threads when he wanted three.

  They reached the bank. Now there were four on this side, two on the other, still evenly divided.

  "Two women," Niobe said.

  Blenda joined her in the canoe, and they crossed, leaving t
he two demons behind. When they arrived, there were three women to one demon. "Now you can ferry your friends across," Niobe said. "We'll be moving on. Thank you for your help." She led the way on down the path, leaving the demon to scratch his horny head in perplexity. How had the three morsels managed to escape? "That was very clever of you." Blanche said.

  "It was just a fond memory," Niobe said enigmatically. She knew it had been a close call. though—and four illusions remained, with the challenges getting harder.

  The path diverged from the river. It led to a large hall, a virtual cathedral.

  A man sat on a throne on a dais in the center. He stood as the women entered. "So you have come!" he exclaimed, rising.

  It was the Magician!

  Blenda was the first to approach him. "My husband!"

  "My wife!" he agreed. They embraced and kissed. Now Niobe approached him. But she remembered those four remaining illusions. It was possible that she had bypassed them when she crossed the river, or that the count given on the plaque in the 4-hall had overstated the number, but she doubted it. It was more likely that she would have to fathom every last one of those illusions before she won through. She couldn't trust this.

  But suppose it was her son, ready with the answer she needed—and she passed him by? That was as good a way to lose as any! Wouldn't Satan laugh if he offered her the solution on a platter—and she rejected it, for that reason. Exquisite irony.

  Well, one day Satan was going to try so hard for that irony that he would lose more than an encounter.

  She brought out a thread and flung it at the Magician. If this was no illusion—

  The thread touched—and the Magician became a demon with three faces and six arms. Its head seemed to be mounted on ball-bearings, for it rotated without limit to aim one face at her, then another, and then the third. One face was young, one middle-aged, and one old, but each seemed uglier than the other two.

  "So!" the middle face hissed. "You doubt me, bag!" the old one grated. "I will perforate you!" the young one cried. The demon stepped toward her.