by Dave Duncan
“You must ask Duty that,” Bedel said. “Here she comes now.”
Two people were descending the stair. One was a Monody in a sleeveless white robe. Behind her, surprisingly, walked the skinny attendant who had greeted the team on their arrival at Pock’s Station. Joy pulled free from Love and wiped her eyes. She went back to find comfort from Ratty, making him feel more guilty than ever.
The ruling High Priestess was the last link in the chain. She resembled Love much more than Wisdom, but her walk was more deliberate, her body thicker, her back a little bent, her face at once plumper and more drawn. Goddess as youth, mother, matriarch—and now as ruler. Each sported Monody’s distinctive halo of red and white curls, fading in stages from Joy’s flame to embers and ashes on her great-grandmother. The wheel of life rolled on; it was almost time for a new baby Joy, for Joy to become Love, Love Duty, Duty Wisdom, and for the crone to lay down her burdens. Probably Ratty was simply seeing what he knew should be there, but he sensed in Duty a woman who had served her Goddess long and well and was now eager to hand over the reins and retire to a less strenuous position as adviser. She greeted him with a smile and the family embrace. And a joke. “Joy, kitten, did you have to rape him like that?”
“He needed a lot of persuading, Holiness,” Joy said. She did not smile.
“That’s odd. He looks quite normal to me.”
Braata had undergone changes since the last time Ratty saw him. He wore green and blue checked shorts instead of STARS black and Duty introduced him as Friend Zyemindar. He looked distinctly older, and uncomfortable in present company, but he was still defiantly flaunting his crucifix, so the others’ coolness was understandable. A hint of his former good humor flashed when he congratulated Ratty on his red cape, but then he turned somber again as he folded his extreme lankiness to sit by himself, as far from everyone else as he decently could.
Duty stepped bodily into the pool and lay back to soak. She was monarch, and the rest waited for her to begin the conversation.
At last, “It’s been a pig of a day already,” she announced to the clouds, “and can only get worse. Zyemindar is a STARS employee. He started the rumors, but I am satisfied that he did so in good faith. He was used, even if he doesn’t see that yet. How many of your faith are there in STARS, anyway, my son?”
Braata said, “I do not know, Holiness. Very few, I suspect.”
“Exactly. Proves my point. Tell them what’s going on now.”
“Your Holinesses, Gownsman, Friend Ratty, there is no change, really. The world’s astronomers have been net-cognizing all night, and they spliced me in at Her Holiness’s request. I provided the codes for the babysitter I installed, and they were able to confirm that the charges had blown, so the Wong-Hui projector is now rubble. The pirate will soon be obscured by Javel, but it will be tracked from some of the mining asteroids.” He sighed. “The result seems certain. I am sorry.”
“There could be a second projector hidden on board?” Bedel asked.
“No, sir. It must be at the center of gravity, or the probe starts spinning.”
“Is there any chance,” Wisdom asked in her croaky old voice, “that these charges you set off caused the pirate to break up?”
“None, Your Holiness. That is one tough nugget! It has withstood centuries of acceleration and deceleration, abrasion by the galactic gas and dust, and a few extremely close passes of Javel. You might as well try to kick over one of those trees. In any case, it would make no difference. The pieces would still hit us all at once. Indeed, that might be worse.”
In the gloom-laden silence, Ratty became aware that Joy was weeping in his one-armed embrace. She had her face down, but he could feel the sobs racking her body. It was a logical reaction. He knew how terrified he would be if he was not guaranteed a seat on a STARS shuttle out. He wondered when the commissioners were due to leave, but he couldn’t ask that in this company.
“I do not for a moment believe it.” Duty rose and stepped out of the pool. She sat on the bench next to Bedel’s tray and helped herself to a piece of fruit. “The cuckoo may be genuine, but that is no reason for STARS to sterilize the whole world. The Mother will not permit it to happen, but the threat alone will be a disaster. People are going to panic. I shall make an announcement shortly, and we shall hold a major invocation at Real Quassia late on Frivdy—we cannot possibly organize it any sooner, and any later will be too late. Even then, we shall have to skimp on preparations, but it will give the people something to look forward to.”
To Ratty she seemed far more convincing than any of the others. Duty was a clever and competent woman, and she had found the only response possible. Heretical as it seemed for a professional reporter like him to think so, this was a case where people were better off not knowing. Denial was the best defense. He felt a strong urge to go over to Braata-Zyemindar and beat his brains out. STARS’s plan would still be a secret if the turncoat had not exposed it.
Duty said, “I am curious about the messengers you saw on the pillar. We Monodys see them sometimes, but not often. It is extremely rare for anyone else to do so.”
“If you will pardon my secular beliefs, Holiness, I do not find my experience so surprising. The mattress moss must be an excellent conductor, the pillar itself is probably an intrusion of dissimilar lithology within the country rock of the mountain, and the cliff provides updrafts and downdrafts. These things could easily produce the glow discharge known as St. Elmo’s fire. I have an unusual number of implants in my head, so what is so strange if one or two of them detected a varying electrical potential and interpreted it as a signal?”
Duty’s smile was as formal as his response had been. “And if you will pardon our beliefs, you had just participated in our most sacred ritual, the calling forth of a new incarnation in a series dating back a hundred centuries. So what would be so strange if the Mother wanted to tell you something?”
He shrugged. “With respect, I did not understand the language she chose.”
“Would you be willing to make another try? I will be going to Real Quassia this evening to offer my personal prayers. I should be grateful if you would agree to accompany me.”
Joy said, “No!”
Her mother snapped a furious, “Joy! You—”
She was cut off by Duty, whose voice was quieter but held more authority, a hundred centuries of authority. “Joy, you forget who you are. A generation from now, you will succeed to the throne I am soon to relinquish. You are Monody, and Monody is eternal. The Mother has promised. You carry your own successor in your womb already. It is possible that unpleasant things will happen on Sixtrdy, but the end of the world will not be one of them. Do you understand?”
Joy raised her tear-stained face. “I understand, Holiness, and ask you to forgive my childish doubts.”
Duty smiled. “Of course we forgive you. We always have, haven’t we? Now, Friend Ratty, will you come to Real Quassia with us this evening?”
Ratty said, “I am your granddaughter’s consort, Holiness, even if only temporarily. If she grants permission, I shall be honored to come. I shall only witness, though. An unbeliever going through the motions of worship is hypocritical.”
Monody nodded acceptance. “There we do agree, but you are welcome to witness and tell us if you see anything this time. Joy, I promise I will see he returns safely! Here come your fellow commissioners.”
Chapter 4
Millie was first, of course, clutching her bag to her chest with both arms, scurrying down the spiral stairs at a dangerous pace. When she reached the pool level she hesitated, agog at the four incarnations.
“I am Monody, Director,” Duty said, not rising. “Wisdom, Love, Joy and Love’s consort Bedel. You know Friend Ratty, of course. Do please find a place to sit.”
Even Backet could not face down ten thousand years of authority. She obeyed, still tongue-tied.
Duty regarded the next visitor with no greater warmth. “Welcome, Brother Andre! This is an unexpected reunion
.”
Ratty watched with professional nosiness as the cadaverous brown-robed friar came striding down. The bony smile was more formal than warm, but his nod to Duty was respectful enough to be almost a bow. “Very unexpected, and in tragic circumstances. The last time I saw you, Priestess, you were about one year old—less than a Pocosin year, more than an Ayne.”
Ratty’s mind flipped paradigms. The saint had spent less than one and a half Ayne years on Pock’s, so whatever the scandal that had sent him home in disgrace, it had not been that.
Wrapping her wrinkles in a smile, Wisdom patted a scarlet cushion beside her. “Come and entertain me, ancient one. I promise you I will restrain my lustful impulses this time. I regret I can no longer hope to ensnare you in mortal sin.”
Andre gave her one of his rare smiles as he obeyed. “I confess that I am enjoying the memories of your former attempts, though. “I have prayed for you nightly, all these long years.”
“You still dream about me, then?”
Obviously they were old sparring partners, and Ratty guessed that a genuine friendship lurked beneath their banter. It was an unexpected facet of the saint of Annatto.
Ratty found it easier to imagine the present Wisdom as a voluptuous Love than matronly Duty as a toddler. She would have been a new mother when Andre met them, not much older than Joy was now. There would have been another Duty and another Wisdom behind them, of course, and perhaps even one more, Memory.
Ratty wondered if they kept score somewhere; was Joy recorded as Monody 567? Or 601? Or didn’t they care?
Linn Lazuline came next, studying the group with interest. Athena, surprisingly, had acquired a stringy Pocosin boy as escort. She sat beside Ratty, but in all the flurry of introductions, no one explained to him who the boy was. The large red-caped man at the rear could only be Gownsman Oxindole, Duty’s giver, consort, and senior advisor, and the smiles they exchanged were those of intimates. There was ample room for thirteen people on the innermost bench, and brown-caped pages swarmed around, laying out more cushions and whisking away the food trays. In the confusion, Joy slipped away to sit beside her mother, leaving Ratty between Braata and Athena.
“Bad news, I gather,” he murmured.
Athena nodded grimly. “Very bad. It convinced us all. He calls himself Umandral and looks about thirteen Ayne years. Grotesquely ugly, but not so different that you think ‘Alien!’ at a glance. Of course, that’s the danger. No, he isn’t human. Even we could see the discrepancies. His teeth, his throat… and a sense of great wrongness.” She accepted a glass from a tray offered by a young brown-cape.
So did Ratty. Certain human hospitality rites were universal. “Worse than Solidagians? Jaspians give me the creeps, too.”
“Much worse. Even Solan here could feel it. According to the medic, some of his DNA comes from an unknown intelligent alien species. I suspect she’s pushing theory ahead of facts, but he does feel alien. He despises us, and I found myself reacting the same way to him.”
“But the deed is done? What we decide doesn’t matter? The probe is certain to come down on Sixtrdy, I’m told.”
“Apparently.” Athena sniffed her drink and then took a hefty swig of it. “The cuckoo we saw is a pseudo-male. As an adult it could breed either sexually, with its own pseudo-females, parthenogenetically, or by parasitizing human beings. That means that it would take only one of them to start a colony! A group would provide more genetic variability, but in theory just one would suffice.” She shook her head. “I am close to believing now that STARS is justified in what it is doing.”
Ratty trusted Athena’s judgment more than any of the others’, and her reversal was troubling. “Even without waiting for our report?”
“I asked Skerry about that.”
“Skerry?”
“Gownsman, Secretary for Science. Solan’s father. He says the probe just happened to be properly positioned. It needed only a slight course correction. If STARS had let that opportunity go by, it might have been a year or more before impact became feasible.”
To sentence a world to death and delay the execution for a year would be extreme torture. “How does Friend Linn feel?” Linn was three cushions farther around the circle, ogling Joy.
“I think he’s coming around too, but he won’t say. Brother Andre denounced Umandral as an abomination and was ready to kill him on the spot. We go home tomorrow. A car will pick us up here at the palace.”
“Tomorrow?” Ratty felt a stab of grief. To go home and leave Joy to her death? He wondered if he could negotiate a later departure.
“Her Holiness refuses to believe that the world will end.”
Athena shrugged. “She has to say that, doesn’t she? STARS may be lying, but I can’t believe the Pocosin astronomers are, and they make their own observations.”
Ratty looked across the pool at the woman he had slept with. Yes, he had enjoyed one-night stands before, but not with a… virgin, to use an overloaded word. To be a girl’s first love, then say thanks but I’ve gotta run… He felt a deep and ancient instinct muttering that a man did not go away and leave his mate to die. A shallower one screamed that Joy was not his mate and never could be in the sense of bearing his children. She was not looking at him. Perhaps she felt betrayed and would demand his cape back, so she could return it to Scrob.
People passing silent cog messages in company could never refrain from glancing at one another, and there was a lot of that going on among the rest of the natives. Even Joy and Braata were doing it. Only Wisdom seemed excluded, intently whispering with Brother Andre. Reporting on dead friends, no doubt.
Duty sighed and somehow caught everyone’s attention.
“Honored friends, we rarely meet off-worlders and would genuinely love to entertain so many distinguished guests. Alas, the terrible rumors are spreading, and we must prevent panic. I am due to make a statement shortly, and I will announce a major invocation for Frivdy evening. We all have urgent preparations to make, as you can guess. Our youngest incarnation, Joy, will stay and act as your hostess, and you are all welcome to remain at the palace until your departure tomorrow. If we can help your investigation in any way, Joy will be happy to organize it. Friend Ratty, she will see you have transportation to Real Quassia this evening. Now, if you will excuse us…”
Duty, Love, Bedel, and Oxindole rose and set off up the stairs, leaving the five fact-finders and the boy with Joy, Wisdom, and Braata.
Brother Andre was frowning at Ratty. “What is this about Quassia?”
“I promised to attend a prayer service there tonight.”
The old man clenched his big jaw for a moment and looked at Wisdom, beside him.
She smiled at his anger. “He saw the Querent! The Mother wishes to speak to us through him.”
“How did you acquire that red cape, young man?”
“That is a personal matter I prefer not to discuss.”
Andre sighed and nodded as if his worst fears were realized. “Ritual fornication.”
“I had a great time,” Ratty said. “You should have tried it when you had the chance. Meanwhile stay out of my business.”
“It is my business. You promoted me to sainthood, remember? I will pray for you, my son, and I warn you now: You may find yourself called to judgment much sooner than you expect if you return to Quassia this evening!” He glanced at Joy and then quickly looked away again, shuddering. “Did she tell you about Quoad? The real story? Or get Priestess Wisdom here to tell you how Gownsman Bombardon died. I had the story from his widow.”
“Then why don’t you tell me?”
“He went to fornicate at Real Quassia and did not return.”
Ratty prided himself on never becoming emotionally involved in an interview. But this was not an interview, and his emotions were already deeply involved. The old man’s meddling roused an astonishing rage in him.
“Oh, shut up! You prattle about love, but you don’t know what it means. You call it a sin, and that just reveals your ignor
ance and jealousy.” He reined in his temper, already ashamed of himself. “I love Joy and I trust her with my life. If she wants me to go back to Quassia and climb to the very top of that pillar, I will do so without a moment’s hesitation. I will stand on my hands there if she asks me to.”
“I know what love is, and I know what lust is, and they are not the same. They are opposites.”
Wisdom remarked to Joy in a stage whisper for everyone to hear, “He approves of martyrs in his own church, you see, but not in others. It’s a small-minded distinction.”
Andre smiled at her affectionately. “But a valid one. I never could make you understand the difference between martyrdom and human sacrifice.”
“And how do you feel about sterilizing a world?”
The old man’s face hardened to rock. “What do you mean, how do I feel? I am appalled, of course, but the cuckoos are undoubtedly the work of Satan and must be stopped. I just wish STARS could find a better way.”
Wisdom cackled. “But your god will permit it? You tried to tell me he is a god of love. He hurls down fire and brimstone, and he is a god of love?”
“It is STARS throwing down the fire and brimstone in this case. The Lord has reasons that we cannot understand, and sometimes he must let some suffer for the good of many. The defense of the rest of the galaxy may require this. Do not presume to judge the Lord.”
“Well your god may permit it. Our goddess will not.”
Andre sighed. “You are being deceived by the evil one. Cardinal Phare is sending an air car for me. How is Gownsman Skerry?”
Pause for cognition… Joy answered.
“Resting comfortably in his own bed. Solan, you can go and see him now if you want.
“Thanks, Joy!” The boy jumped up eagerly. He glanced shyly at Ratty and blushed. “Congratulations!”
