Under A Velvet Cloak (23 page)

Then Kerena saw it, like a huge mother, copulating with her brother and generating children. They weren’t children, of course, but swirls of energy that sought their own regions.

Two of the swirls came together and mated, and from the female issued plants and animals that came to inhabit a garden that came into being, and two human beings.

“The Garden of Eden!” Molly said.

“And Adam and Lilith,” Kerena agreed.

“They were birthed by Nature. By Gaea.”

“By Mother Nature. Father
Good made
the Garden and established the rules,” Kerena said, working it out. “And dictated the forms of the human beings: they were modeled after his own chosen semblance, and Gaea’s. He must have set up the Garden as a kind of playground, entertaining himself by acts of creation. Things were fine until Lilith got assertive.”

“What about Nod?” Molly asked.

“He must have been an earlier experiment, not quite right to govern the world, so he was set aside, and God and Gaea. tried again. They were satisfied with Adam, but Lilith still missed the mark and had to be replaced.” Kerena smiled somewhat ruefully. “So Lilith went east of Eden and married Nod, surely satisfying him sexually and fooling him about her fidelity. Even so, there were subtle problems in Adam and Eve’s line, that took time to show, such as Cain’s violence. But by then
God
must have been tired of tinkering, and humanity has just had to live with his imperfect state ever since.”

“Agitated by the admixture of the blood of Nod and Lilith,” Molly agreed. “That explains a lot.”

“An awful lot,” Kerena agreed. “You are surely a daughter of Eve, as it were. Morgan le Fey would be a daughter of Lilith.”

So now they had seen the origin of living things, in one scene. Kerena shifted focus to the other scene. Similar living creatures were there, as apes lifted their bodies to walk on two feet, lost their body fur, and evolved into human beings. There seemed to be no Garden of Eden, unless that was the continent of Africa.

“So all the creatures were created in a short time,” Kerena said. “Or they evolved over a long time. Depending in which scene you view. The end result is much the same.”

“But the Incarnations of Immortality don’t yet exist.”

“Not as we know them now. They could hardly have human proprietors before humans existed,” Kerena pointed out. “That’s the next thing we want to see: how they were taken over. That must be what Lilah is waiting to show us.” That reminded her. “I need to get some substance from Chaos.”

She reversed course, moved back to the void, and scooped up an armful of chaos. She wasn’t sure how to handle it, but the blob seemed to stay with her readily enough. It lacked much will of its own, so responded to hers. She moved on forward, to the Garden, past Adam and Eve, and to the time just after the expulsion.

There was Lilah. “You got it!” she exclaimed, grabbing for the blob of chaos.

“Not so fast, ghost,” Molly said, intercepting her. “You still have to show her the investing of the Incarnations.”

“I was going to,” Lilah snarled.

Kerena
nodded.
It was obvious that the ghost would have taken off with the chaos substance and reneged on the rest, had Molly not been alert. That was much of the point of having a friend along.

“This way,” Lilah said grudgingly. She led them downtime and slantwise across the terrain. “Here is the first one: the Incarnation of Good.”

The swirl of inchoate energy was resting at the top of a mountain, evidently tuning out. A holy man climbed the mountain, discovered the swirl, and stepped into it. He became transfigured, with glorious light surrounding him. He had assumed the mantle, but did not seem to know exactly what to make of it.

“It takes him about a thousand years to get it straight,” Lilah said. “I could have done it faster, had I been interested in doing good.”

She took them to the next, some time later. This time an evil man fleeing pursuit decided to hide in a dry well. In that well was a swirl. The man merged with it, became charged, and floated up and away, amazed at his newfound ability. “The Incarnation of Evil,” Lilah said. “If only I had known that swirl was there, it could have been mine.”

“The people didn’t know about the swirls before they encountered them?” Kerena asked.

“Right. The things were just drifting around, doing whatever they do naturally and not very efficiently. Even Good and Nature reverted to somewhat chaotic status after their mixed results with early people. They must have pretty well used up their initiative. But once humans got into them, they had human will and intelligence. That made a difference. Good started forming Heaven and Evil started forming Hell, and recruiting souls to inhabit them. In time it developed into something of a system, supported by the mortals who got a glimmer.”

The third one to be invested was Nature, taken over by a mature woman who had a fair idea what was what. “But Gaea birthed all the animals, and Adam and Eve,” Molly said. “Now she’s taken over by one of her great granddaughters?”

“And she birthed Nod and me. Why not?” Lilah asked wryly. “The whole system is incestuously nepotistic. Erebus and Nox were brother and sister; they got together and generated all the other Incarnations. Father God and Mother Gaea are siblings, and so were Nod, Adam, Eve and me. Both my brothers fucked me.”

“Erebus?” Molly asked.

“Chaos’ son. I don’t know what happened to him or Nox; maybe they’re still drifting around somewhere, having fucked themselves out.”

But Kerena was paying attention to another aspect. “So all the humans did was step into the swirls, and became the Incarnations of Immortality?”

“That’s all, at the beginning,” Lilah agreed. “It wasn’t very cosmopolitan, early on. Anyone could have done it. Later they developed more sophisticated rules of transfer.”

“I have seen enough. Here is your chaos.” Kerena pushed the blob toward the ghost.

“Got it.” Lilah stepped into the blob, became a solid naked woman, and stretched luxuriantly. Then she vanished.

“See, she skipped out,” Molly said.

“That’s all right. I’m through with her. She’s not the easiest person to take, in more than small doses.” Kerena reversed course and headed back uptime.

“What are you up to?”

“I am going to invest the powers of Night. No one else has.”

“Which one is that?”

“Nox. The one who mated with her brother and birthed the other powers.”

“You’re going to become an Incarnation?”

“I’m going to try. Before someone else does. I need those powers.”

“That’s why you are so hot on ancient history!”

“I knew the powers were there. The kind I need to do what I mean to do.”

“I never knew!”

“I didn’t know it was possible, until now.”

“But can you
do
it before humans existed?”

“I doubt it. I mean to trace Nox to human times, then brace her.”

“But she’s the mother of the others! I think you’re younger than any of the humans who took over. Not counting your vampire time.”

“That doesn’t matter. Age doesn’t matter. Just possession. If I understand this correctly.” Kerena hoped she did.

They returned to the giant birthing. Then Kerena moved forward, following the mother swirl. It drifted aimlessly. She followed it as the Garden of Eden was formed, and the plants and animals. It floated across the continent of Australia. Now was the time.

She moved in. The swirl of energy was invisible, neither dark nor light, but Kerena oriented on it with her Seeing. She had not been able to
do
it before, not realizing that the absence of human presence fundamentally changed the swirl. Now she knew exactly what it was, and had no further difficulty. She solidified. And hesitated. “Molly, if something goes wrong-”

“I will tell Morely and Vanja.”

“Thank you.” Kerena nerved herself and stepped into the swirl.

She suffered immediate disorientation. She clung to her human awareness, struggling to avoid being overwhelmed. Belatedly she realized that others might have stepped into swirls and lost their identities instead of taking over. Was she strong enough?

She recovered equilibrium and looked around. There was Molly. “You changed your mind?” the ghost asked.

Kerena looked behind her. There was the swirl. She had passed though it without investing it.

She turned about and tried again. And failed again. “I can’t do it,” she said. “It’s as if we are on different planes.”

“Maybe you are,” Molly agreed. “What year is it?”

“About 3,000 BC.” As she spoke, she realized: “Way before my time! I can’t do anything before I exist.”

“All we can do is look,” Molly agreed. “I forgot.”

“So did I. Fortunately that is readily remedied. I will return to my present time.”

She did so, tracking the swirl so as not to lose it. It drifted all across the world, which Kerena realized was a round ball rather than a flat plate, preferring night without being limited to it. It had no governing direction. Apparently once it had mated and birthed the Incarnations of Day-if that was really the right name for them-it had little remaining purpose. In that respect it resembled Good and Nature, lacking continuing initiative on its own.

They returned to the Carnival of Ghosts, completing their excursion into the past. But now Kerena knew where the swirl was. They left the Carnival and she phased down and zoomed back to Australia, where the swirl had coincidentally drifted again. It was resting in the shadowed lee of an isolated mountain. She solidified and walked toward it.

Another figure appeared, solidifying similarly beside the swirl. It waved. “Oh, Rena-fancy meeting you here.”

“Lilahl” Kerena was not pleased. What was the demoness up to?

“I thought if there’s an Incarnation to be taken, I might as well take it,” Lilah explained. “So nice of you to locate it for me.”

“You bitch!” Molly exclaimed. “That’s Rena’s chance.”

“Oh, really? I must not have gotten the word.” Lilah stepped into the swirl.

There was a scintillation as body and energy overlapped. Then the body was hurled out, landing limply on the sand.

Kerena hurried over. “Are you well?” she asked, kneeling beside the form.

“Don’t waste time on her,” Molly urged. “Take the Incarnation. It’s your chance.”

“But she may be injured. I have to help if I can.”

“You’re being a fool!
She tried to take your chance.”

The demoness opened an eye. “Who are you?”

“A fool,” Kerena said.

“Who am I?”

“The demoness Lilah. You were just hurled a distance. Maybe if you desolidify you’ll feel better.”

Lilah sat up, her substance dissipating. “Do I have a history?”

“You were Adam’s first wife, and Samson’s temptress. You’re the original feminist. You were a ghost; now you’re a demoness.”

Lilah nodded. “I begin to remember. What happened to me?”

“You tried to become an Incarnation, and got ejected.”

“Now I remember more. I tried to steal your chance. Why are you tending to me?”

“You seemed to need help.”

“You
are
a fool.”

“Whatever,” Kerena agreed.

“A daughter of Eve,” Molly said.

“You must suppose I owe you one, now.”

Kerena laughed. “I know better. That’s not the way you think.”

“Here is the way I think: you will not do me harm, but may do me good. I am likely to be better off on the right side of you, as there may be some important favor you can do me in the future.”

“I have no awareness of that.”

“So I will return the favor, at such time as is convenient, as a matter of cynical calculation. I will not be your enemy, though I can’t be your friend. I prefer to have you neutral or owing me; it could pay off, as you have unusual powers and may acquire more.”

Was that the truth, or did the demoness have a faint modicum of gratitude or decency in her? Kerena didn’t argue the case; Lilah was surely ashamed of any good qualities she possessed. “I don’t even know what happened to you.”

“I couldn’t Incarnate because I was not a proper match for the role. I have too much selfishness and meanness. I surely could have taken the swirl of Evil, had I had the chance, but this is not that. But you are generous and good; you may be be able to do it. So I-”

Kerena was amazed by a wild thought. “Are you saying you want to be my friend after all?”

“I don’t want to be anyone’s friend!” Lilah flared. “Friendships are wea-me.”

“To be sure,” Kerena agreed carefully. “Whatever way you prefer.”

“I prefer to depart.” She faded out.

“That was weird,” Molly said. “She masks appreciation with cynical reasoning. I think she likes you.”

Kerena smiled. “Promise never to tell.”

“You want it that way?”

“She might one day do me some good.”

They both laughed, understanding. Then Kerena approached the swirl, cautioned by Lilah’s rejection. Would it hurl her out similarly?

She stepped in. The energy swirled about her and through her, infusing her, lifting her, tugging her in several directions, none of them physical. She took another step.

And found herself out the other side. The swirl hadn’t thrown her out, but neither had it accepted her. What did it mean?

“It didn’t work?” Molly asked.

“It didn’t work,” Kerena agreed. “Yet it didn’t manhandle me either.”

“So maybe you’re halfway there.”

Kerena had another idea. “The resistance I have encountered to obtaining or even learning about the powers of Night-could it be that it is simply that I am not yet where I need to be? That there is something else I need to get or
do
before I can assume the office?”

“It is putting you through a test?”

“I don’t think so. But obviously it doesn’t just accept whoever approaches it. There must be qualities that align with its nature, and I have some but not all of them.”

“What would those qualities be?”

Kerena sighed. “I think that’s what I have to find out.”

“But you are what you are. How can you be something else?”

“Maybe I have to practice,” Kerena said with resignation.