Wizard (28 page)

They made one camp in the jungle, and everyone stayed alert. There were creatures in it that could and would attack humans and Titanides. Robin was startled into shooting a creature the size of a bull when it came nosing around her tent, then learned it was harmless. They ate part of it for breakfast. Five minutes after they threw the carcass into the river it was swarming with eels that tore at the dead flesh. Scavengers, Cirocco said, maintaining that the waters here were not dangerous. Chris still skipped his bath.

It had been Robin’s first use of her weapon. Cirocco asked to see it, professing surprise that such a small woman could handle a .45-caliber automatic. Robin explained she was using rocket bullets instead of explosive. Most of the thrust was developed outside the barrel. It was especially helpful in Gaea’s low gravity, where the kick of a Colt .45 could topple even a heavy person. She had two types of ammunition loaded into the standard seven-round clips: lead slugs and impact-fused explosives.

It was 120 kilometers from the last ramparts of the Nemesis Range to the end of the jungle. The river no longer gave them much help, but by rowing hard, they came out onto the plains in one more shift and camped a few kilometers beyond the forest verge.

While Chris slept, they were visited by a delegation of Crian Titanides, who were overjoyed to hear that the Wizard was among the travelers and began to plead for a Carnival. Chris later learned they had a good case for one; while the larger Hyperion chords got a Carnival every myriarev, the chords in other regions had to wait for the Wizard’s erratic journeys to bring her to them. Crius was overdue.

When Chris awoke, the Crians were accepting the hospitality of the Hyperionite breakfast table. Chris joined them, and the difference between the Titanides of Crius and of Hyperion was immediately obvious. While Valiha was based on the frame of a Percheron, the Crians were more like Shetland ponies. He could actually see eye to eye with the tallest of them. They presented the same riot of color as their Hyperion cousins, however. One had a pelt that was a passable tartan.

None spoke English—it being a skill infrequently useful in Crius—but Valiha introduced him around and translated a few polite greetings. He took an immediate liking to one white-skinned female, and from her shy smiles he felt the interest was mutual. Her name was Siilihi (Locrihypolydian Duet) Hymn. Had she possessed two fewer legs, he would have been extremely attracted.

Gaby went into Cirocco’s tent to tell her of the request. There was a loud moan, and Siilihi looked away from Chris, embarrassed. The other Crian Titanides stirred restlessly. Chris was suddenly furious at the Wizard. What a demeaning thing it was for such beautiful people to have to come begging to that miserable drunk!

He wished he could perform the Wizard’s function. If anyone ever deserved to have a lovely baby, it was Siilihi. He wondered if, when he saw Gaea again, she would consider making him a Wizard so he could help these people. He was sure he could handle the responsibility better than Cirocco had done.

It sounded like such a fine idea, in fact, that he wanted to get started on it right away. The first step was frontal fertilization, so he reached for Siilihi and saw her eyes go wide.

* * *

He returned to consciousness stretched out on Valiha’s back. His jaw hurt. When he tried to sit up, he found it impossible. He was strapped down, and his hands were tied in front of him.

“I’m better,” he announced to the sky. Valiha turned around and looked down at him.

“He says he’s better,” she called. He heard changes in the cadence of hooves. Soon Robin and Gaby were flanking him, looking down.

“I wish I could think of a cheap way to test that,” Gaby said. “The last time we cut you loose, you attacked Robin. You’ve been a real pain in the ass.”

“I remember it,” Chris said tonelessly.

“Will you shut your stupid mouth?” Robin growled at Gaby. Gaby looked surprised, then nodded.

“If you think you can handle it, yeah, I will.”

“Then get out of here. I’ll take the responsibility.” Gaby rode off, and Robin told Valiha to stop while she cut the ropes that bound Chris. He sat up, rubbing his wrists and working his jaw. It had been a short attack and not a very deep one. Still, he had had time to insult the Crian delegation, take a swing at Cirocco in front of the Titanides, and make amorous advances to Robin after he had convinced them he was better. For his troubles he had picked up a black eye from Cirocco and a kick in the balls and a sore lip from Robin. Apparently his miraculous luck didn’t work against Wizards and witches. He shifted on Valiha’s back, and it hurt.

“Listen,” he said. “All I can say is I’m sorry, inadequate as it is. And thanks for not killing me.”

“There’s no need, and I wish I could have been … done less. But you are getting better; you rushed me. And now I know what rape must be like.”

He winced. And he had thought he could be friends with this woman. He felt the black depression beginning to descend.

“Did I say something wrong?” He looked at her, wondering if she could possibly be kidding, but there was only concern on her face.

“I … maybe I see,” she said. “You must believe me when I say I had not thought being accused of rape would shame a man. I can see that you are, but you needn’t be. I don’t hold you responsible. What I meant was that I now see how it can be so traditionally feared by my sisters. It was frightening to come even that close. Even knowing that you would not do me great injury. If I’m making things worse, just tell me to shut up.”

“No, you’re not,” he said. “I tricked you the last time. How did you know I’m not tricking you now?”

“You tricked Gaby,” Robin said. “I would have kept you bound. And I don’t know how I know. But I do.”

“How did you know that I wouldn’t hurt you, beyond the—” he found it hard to go on, but forced himself—“beyond the normal hurts of a rape, that is. How did you know I wouldn’t beat you or mutilate or kill you?”

“Was I wrong?”

“No. No, I do terrible things, but I’ve never been murderous. I’ll pick a fight, but only to remove someone who’s annoying me. After I knock them down I forget about them completely. I’ve assaulted women. I even raped one once. But that’s just—or so I’ve been told—just normal sex urge with all the social conscience short-circuited. At my worst, I have never gone into homicidal rages or derived pleasure from the act of hurting someone, even at my worst. But that’s not to say that in the course of getting my way I won’t hurt someone, hurt them badly.”

“I thought it was something like that.”

There was more he had to say, the most difficult of all.

“It has occurred to me,” he said, “that if we both were stricken at the same time … you know, in a rather unlikely circumstance, I suppose, with no one around to protect you or restrain me … that I might … without meaning to, but unable to stop myself …” He could not finish, try as he might.

“I thought of that,” she said casually. “As soon as it was clear to me what your problem was, the possibility arose. I decided to risk it, or I wouldn’t be here. As you say, the chance is remote.” She reached across and briefly pressed his hand. “What I want you to understand is that
I don’t hold you responsible
. Not
you
. I can make that distinction.”

Chris looked at her for a long time and gradually felt some of the weight lifting. He ventured a smile, and she smiled back.

* * *

Their destination now was once again the central vertical cable. In Crius it was thirty-five kilometers north of Ophion.

To everyone’s surprise, upon arrival Cirocco invited them to accompany her. Sooner or later they would notice that the expedition always stopped in the middle of a region, and there was no need to conceal the visit with Crius from anyone.

The Titanides would not go. The whole idea made them visibly uneasy. They remained in the sunlight while Cirocco led the three humans into the forest of titanic columns where the unwinding cable strands emerged from the ground. At what must have been the center was the entrance to a stairway. It was a transparent building, vaguely like a cathedral but nothing so imposing as the monuments at the hub.

The stairs went down in a spiral defined by the unseen central strand of the central cable. The corridor was wide enough to accommodate twenty people abreast, and fifty meters high. They did not need lanterns since the ceiling was festooned with flying creatures that glowed with a ruddy orange light.

Chris thought Cirocco must have been joking when she said the stairs went down for five kilometers. It turned out to be literally true. Even in one-quarter gravity one doesn’t climb that many steps without resting on the way. But it did come to an end. He was in better shape than he had thought. Aside from some soreness in his calves Chris felt fine.

They emerged in a cavern that was less than he had expected. This was Crius, after all, and though he was only a subordinate God, Chris still remembered the bizarre grandeur of Gaea’s quarters.

Crius was an underworld God, a troglodyte who had never seen the light of day and never would. His domain smelled of sour chemicals and the wastes of a billion creatures, thrummed with the beating of subterranean hearts. He was a working God, an engineer to Gaea’s executive, a God who worked in
the grease that kept things moving.

They stood on a flat surface rimming an hourglass-shaped crystalline structure reaching floor to ceiling. The cavern was 200 meters in diameter, with passages opening east and west.

The thing in the center was obviously the main attraction. It put Chris in mind of the devices of heavy industry, though he could not say why. He could imagine metals being smelted in a shape like that, or electricity transformed. He wondered if Crius lived inside it. Could the actual brain be that small? Or perhaps it was only the top projection of a larger structure; it sat in a circular moat twenty meters wide and unguessably deep.

“Don’t go for a swim,” Gaby warned. “That’s hydrochloric acid in pretty good concentration. Things are programmed not to come in here—look how well it worked with the Titanides—but the acid is a last-ditch protection, as it were.”

“Then that is Crius, right there?”

“In person. We won’t introduce you. You and Robin stay back by the wall and don’t make any quick motions. Crius knows the Wizard, and he’ll talk to me because he needs me. Be quiet, listen, and learn.” She watched them sit down and joined Cirocco at the edge of the moat.

“We will speak English,” Cirocco began.

“Very well, Wizard. I sent for you nine thousand three hundred and forty-six revs ago. This lack of efficiency is beginning to impair the proper operation of systems. I thought of filing a complaint with the God of Gods but have delayed it.”

Cirocco reached into the folds of her red blanket and threw something at the shape in the acid lake. There was a bright flash of light when it struck Crius, and red dots chased each other frantically over its surface.

“I retract the statement,” Crius said.

“Did you have any other complaints?”

“None. I made no complaint.”

“See that you don’t.”

“It will be as you say.”

Chris was impressed in spite of himself. The exchange had been rapid, emotionless on the part of Crius. Cirocco had not raised her voice. Yet the impression was of a child being chastised by a strict parent.

“You spoke of a ‘God of Gods,’” Cirocco said. “Who is this?”

“I spoke as a humble servant of Gaea, the one and only God. The phrase was used in … in a metaphorical sense,” Crius finished, rather lamely, Chris thought.

“Yet you used the word ‘God’ in the plural. This is a source of surprise to me, who had thought such a construction could not enter your mind.”

“One hears heresy.”

“Would you be speaking of imported heresy or the local brand? Have you been speaking with Oceanus?”

“As you know, Oceanus speaks to me. It is not in my power to stop listening. I have, however, been completely successful in ignoring him. As to imported, human notions, I am aware of and unimpressed by their many varieties of myth.”

Once again Cirocco reached into her blanket. This time she paused, and as she did, more red spots appeared on Crius’s surface, dancing anxiously. The Wizard did not take notice. She looked thoughtfully at the floor for a time: then let her empty hand appear in the open once more.

The conversation turned to matters that meant nothing to Chris, concerning the day-to-day affairs of Crius. Throughout it, Crius maintained an attitude that was not precisely subservient, yet left no doubt he knew well who was in charge. His voice was not loud. It had a buzzing quality and was not in the least intimidating. Cirocco dispensed orders casually, as though her role in the exchange were by natural law something like a queen dealing with a respected commoner, but a commoner nonetheless. She listened to the things he said, then would interrupt in the middle of a sentence with her decision. Crius
never attempted to argue with her or to explain further.

They spoke for more than an hour on matters of policy; then the talk turned to more prosaic items, and Gaby was invited to join in. Much of it was again meaningless, but at one point they discussed a malfunction in a particle accelerator that was part of Crius, deep beneath his surface. What Crius would do with a particle accelerator was a mystery to Chris.

A preliminary contract was made, Gaby agreeing to look into the matter in less than a myriarev, provided Gaea offered acceptable payment. She mentioned contacting a race in Phoebe that was good at subterranean work.

Chris could tell Robin was bored after the first ten minutes. He held out a little longer than that but soon was yawning himself. It was not that he felt the trip was wasted—it was interesting to see what the regional brains looked like and educational to see Cirocco do something more than drink—but it had been a very long stairway. He dreaded the climb to the top.

* * *

The audience was ended without ceremony. Cirocco simply turned, gestured to Robin and Chris, and the four of them entered the stairs again. It was five minutes before the gentle curve of the corridor put them out of sight of the grotto.