Being a Green Mother (42 page)

She had forgotten that the water oak was gone. The site was covered with ice and snow. She expanded and found that all of Ireland was slowly freezing. Indeed, all the world;
the people who had survived the storms were now squeezing into what structures remained, shoring them against the-creeping cold, burning wood salvaged from wreckage, and hoarding blankets. There was no electricity, no oil delivery; the world had been reduced to a relatively primitive status.

It was better than the storm, Orb told herself. But she wasn’t sure. How cold would it get?

She returned to Jonah. Jezebel eyed her somewhat warily. Orb laughed, experiencing a temporary relief from the horror she felt. “Jez, I owe you an apology. You did hear me talk about Chronos. Let me explain.” She explained. “So you see, I wasn’t being crazy or perverse. I’m under tension, but it hasn’t cracked my mind quite yet.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” the succubus said seriously. “Now why don’t you put something on, before my man wanders in here.”

Oops! She remained naked, as she had gotten out of the habit of wearing anything but the magic cloak. She had felt no discomfort in the snow, but Jezebel was right; she needed to be clothed. Hastily she donned the blouse and skirt the succubus produced—one of Betsy’s outfits.

Betsy, of course, had no further need of it. Now, abruptly, Orb burst into tears.

The demoness comforted her. She was good at it, perhaps because of her experience with the guitarist. Soon Orb got a new grip on herself. “Thank you. I’m all right now.”

“That’s good. We’re in enough trouble as it is.”

“Oh? Has something else happened?”

“Nothing new. We’re running short of food. I can get more, but the economic system has broken down, so I can’t arrange for proper payment of it.”

“I see your point. I think I can get by without it, now, and so can you, but the guitarist and Lou-Mae—”

“Yes. And she isn’t doing all that well.”

“She has reason. Jez, it’s my fault; I started this when I invoked magic I didn’t understand. I have tried twice to change it, but each time more people have suffered. Should I try it again?”

“When I went out last time, it looked pretty cold,” the demoness said. “How bad—?”

“I don’t know—but I fear it will just keep going.”

“Then maybe it’s better to gamble again.”

“I suppose so. Chronos says I will make the final decision. Maybe one of my attempts will succeed, though I don’t see how it can help those who have already died.”

“It seems best to gamble on the living.”

“Yes.” Orb fetched her harp and sang the Song of Chaos a fourth time. This time she didn’t bother with the null-theme; it hadn’t helped.

She knew the moment she finished that it was taking hold. Jonah shook. It wasn’t the big fish; something was happening outside. Orb expanded and found that the rock through which Jonah swam was heaving. She expanded further, so as to survey the globe, and found that the effect was global. The whole world was changing.

What was happening? There seemed to be enormous stresses developing in the crust of the Earth, causing it to quiver in its effort to release tension. Those stresses were building rapidly; what would be their result?

All too soon she saw it. Huge sections of the ground buckled under the pressure, the tectonic plates being jammed together. Elsewhere new fissures opened up, and lava spewed out. Long-dormant volcanoes came suddenly to life, and new ones erupted. The geology of the world was going crazy!

Orb quickly coalesced on India, on the mermaid’s pool. She was already too late; there was nothing but a fold of lava there. She turned the page to France and saw the mountain toppling over a vast new void beneath it. Tinka and her family were gone.

She expanded again, distraught. All the world was going, as earthquakes leveled every remaining building and volcanoes buried the rubble in ash and lava. The crust of the Earth was wrinkling like the skin of an elephant, turning over and over, and the smoke and ash was so voluminous that day had become night everywhere. There was no longer any air to breath; the fumes of the convulsion had replaced it.

She turned the page to Jonah—and found only lava. The huge fish had been crushed and obliterated by the titanic forces of the earth, and all the occupants were gone. Jezebel should have survived it, but perhaps was lost in the Chaos. Orb was alone.

She hovered in stasis, unable even to decide how she should feel. The calamity was so complete! She had reacted in pique and destroyed the world. What remained for her?

– 16 –

After an indeterminate time, Orb became aware of company. A spider was hovering before her.

“Mother!” she exclaimed, knowing that no mortal spiders existed anymore.

Niobe manifested in her natural form. “I think we should talk, dear,” she said.

“Isn’t it late for that?” Orb asked dully. “I’ve ruined everything.”

“Not necessarily. Chronos can help.”

“Chronos said I would have to decide for myself.”

“And so you shall, dear. Come with me.”

Orb suffered herself to be guided, and found herself in Chronos’ mansion, along with the other Incarnations.

“We are at a critical pass,” Mym said without preamble. “The war between good and evil hangs in the balance. As I see it, Gaea has three choices. She can allow the present condition of the mortal world to remain—”

“No!” Orb cried. “I killed everyone! I want only to undo as much of the damage as can be arranged and retire in shame from this office.”

“Or she can sing the final copy of the Song of Chaos,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Each repetition is worse than the prior one!” Orb said. “What will the final one do?”

Thanatos leaned forward, his skull-face showing beneath his hood. “You invoked the Elements of Chaos, each rendition turning it to another form. First Water, then Air, then Fire—”

“Elements!” Orb said. “Water—when the flooding came! Air—when the storms came! I never realized! But Fire—I never invoked that!”

“Nulled,” Thanatos explained. “That brought chill rather than flame.”

“Oh.” Now Orb remembered what she had learned before: that every Song of the Llano interacted with any of the Elements or Kingdoms. She had tried to negate the Song of Chaos, but had only reversed the invocation of Fire. “Then I invoked Earth, and it destroyed everything. What can the fifth Element do, worse than that?”

“That is the Void,” Thanatos said. “It will reset the universe to its original state, without form and void.”

“Total Chaos,” Niobe said. “Destiny reversed.”

“So that God and Satan have to start their eternal war again, from scratch?” Orb asked, appalled anew. “All of what has happened before counts for nothing? All of what all of you have done—undone? How could I let that happen?” Now she understood why Satan had said this was the ultimate weapon against him—but that its cost was too great.

“Or she can vote to allow me to reverse the course of recent time, restoring the world to its state just before she started the Song of Chaos,” Chronos concluded.

“Yes!” Orb exclaimed. “If you can do that—”

“There is a catch, dear,” Niobe cautioned her.

“It doesn’t matter! If all the damage I have done can be undone that simply, of course that’s what I want! Then I can retire without singing and let someone more balanced and competent assume the office.”

Mym shook his head. “You can not retire, Orb. That is a condition of the reversal. You must carry through your office.”

Orb spread her hands. “Then I will! Whatever is required to bring my friends back, to restore everyone—”

“What is required is the agreement of all the Incarnations,”
Thanatos said. “That is the only manner a situation of this gravity can be resolved.”

“But don’t you all agree? How can any of you deny this?”

“We are not the only Incarnations, dear,” Niobe said.

“Oh, of course there are lesser Incarnations, like Eros and Pestilence—none of them would object, would they?”

“None of them do,” Mym agreed. “But there are two major Incarnations. One of them can be presumed to agree; He never interferes in the affairs of the mortals, no matter how tempting it may be.”

“Oh—God,” Orb said. “The Incarnation of Good. Of course. But—”

“But the other is the Incarnation of Evil.”

“Satan!” Orb said, understanding. “Who opposes all good of any kind!”

“I heard My name?” a new voice said. Natasha stood there, smiling.

Orb turned her face away, her emotions abruptly raging in contrasts seemingly as savage as those she had loosed upon the world. What he had done—!

“I think you know the situation,” Mars said to Satan. “Do you accede to the course we propose?”

“I could be persuaded,” Satan said.

Orb was determined not to speak to him at all, but the words came from her before she knew. “How can we believe anything you say? You only want the destruction of man!”

“Not so,” Satan said smoothly. “I only want to tilt the balance of power My way, relegating Mine ancient adversary to the lesser role. It hardly behooves Me to allow mankind to be consigned to the Afterlife when the balance is inappropriate.”

“And it favors God now?” Orb asked, knowing it was true. “So that if everyone dies now, He wins?”

“Even so.”

“Then you have to agree to revert the world!” she exclaimed to Satan. “Because you don’t want to lose!”

“No.”

She gazed at him, not knowing what to make of this. “But if you have no chance to win, this way—”

“I lose,” he said slowly. “But so do you. Do you want your friends, and all the other innocent people of the world, to die, just to spite Me?”

Orb thought of Tinka, of Lou-Mae, of the Livin’ Sludge, the mermaid, and all the others of the world. They were surely bound for Heaven, but their lives on Earth were incomplete. Her daughter Orlene was still just a child. “No,” she admitted, tears stinging her eyes.

“So you are prepared to compromise, to save your friends.”

“I would do anything to undo the damage I have done,” Orb said brokenly.

“You would even promote My welfare?”

“What are you getting at?” she snapped.

“I have proposed marriage to you. The offer stands. Do you accede?”

“Oh, God,” she breathed. “Your price for letting the world return!”

“True.”

“Gaea’s power allied with yours, tilting the balance to you.”

“In time, that will be the case. This is My object.”

Now at last the full significance of her childhood vision was clear. A wedding—or a devastated world. Her choice.

Orb looked desperately around at the others. “What am I to do? If I align with him, God loses! But if I don’t—”

“This is the nature of the decision you must make,” Chronos said. “None of us can make it for you.”

“But the world loses either way! Is this what you have lived through?”

“No,” Chronos said. “But as I intend to explain to you later, my past is malleable. It may be that I will be required to divert it to another course.”

“What am I to do?” Orb repeated, distraught.

“We can not advise you, dear,” Niobe said. “But perhaps one question will suffice to clarify your thinking.”

“What question?” Orb asked hopelessly.

“You now know Satan for who and what he is. Do you love him?”

The implication struck Orb with stunning force. She put the back of her hand to her forehead, reeling. With all her being she tried to deny it, but could not.

“God help me,” she whispered brokenly, “for I do love Satan.”

“And I love you,” Satan said. “I offer you the world.”

“But what I say is the truth,” Orb protested weakly. “What you say is a lie.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed. He extended his hand to her. “I ask you again, Gaea: will you marry Me?”

Orb fought, but her heart had betrayed her. She knew Natasha for what he was, for the Incarnation of Evil, but she did love him and wanted to be with him in all the ways that love might dictate.

Slowly her hand moved out to meet his. “I will,” she breathed, half sobbing. Was she doing this for the benefit of the world or from selfishness? Was she already moving into his orbit of evil?

Satan held the hand, captive to his success, and faced the others. “Does anyone object to our marriage?”

No other Incarnation spoke.

“Then we shall hold the wedding at this moment, in Hell,” Satan said. “All of you are invited, as honored guests and witnesses, together with any others who wish to attend. I welcome your participation and support. There shall be no question about the legitimacy of this union.”

“This moment will not occur for several days, considering my action,” Chronos said.

“Precisely,” Satan said. “We shall all return to the time just before Gaea invoked the Theme of Chaos. None of this will have happened, and our memories of it will fade. But the agreement has been made, and all of you are party to it. It will be honored.”

“It will be honored,” Chronos agreed.

“My objection to your action is withdrawn,” Satan said. “We are now unanimous. The world shall be spared the ravage of the Theme of Chaos. Proceed with your action.”