Afra screamed. Ivo could see her mouth open, lips pulled back harshly over the even white teeth, tongue elevated. He saw her chest pumping again and again, and could almost hear her desperate, ghastly sounds. She screamed until the spittle became pink.
In the basin, the star-shaped thing struggled and heaved. It raised a tentacle as if searching for something, then dropped it loosely over the edge. The beam was off now, further evidence that this was the end. For a moment the creature convulsed, almost raising its body from the bottom; then it shuddered into relaxation and the five limbs uncurled.
Slowly it changed color, becoming gray. It was dead.
CHAPTER 7
Beatryx was weeding the garden: some shoots of wheat were coming up beside the tomato plants, and she was carefully extracting them without damage to either type of plant. The tediously preserved shoots would shortly be transplanted to the south forty — forty square feet of verdant field.
Ivo squatted down beside her but did not offer to help. This was her self-appointed task, and his unsolicited participation would constitute interference. Meaningful tasks were valuable. He noted that she had continued to shed weight; the round-faced matron was disconcertingly gone, replaced by the hollow-faced one. Material comfort did not automatically bring health and happiness, unfortunately.
“You know she’s taking it hard,” he said after a suitable delay.
“What can we do, Ivo? I hate to see it, but I just can’t think of any way to help.”
“As I make it, she’s having the reaction she suppressed when Brad lost out to the destroyer. She knew he was gone, then, but she refused to admit it. Now—”
“Now we have to take turns standing watch over her, treating her like a criminal. I don’t like it, Ivo.”
An understatement. Her whole body reflected her concern. Beatryx, physically, was in worse shape than Afra. “None of us do. But we don’t dare leave her alone.”
She lifted a blade of green and placed it tenderly in her basin of moist sand. “It’s terrible.”
“I wondered whether—” He paused, disturbed by the audacity of his idea. “Well, we are, as you say, already treating her like a criminal.”
“We have to do something,” she said.
“Maybe this is all wrong. That’s why I wanted to talk it over. I thought, well, if she feels guilty, we might give her a trial. Sort of bring out the evidence, one way or the other, and all take a look at it, and decide who was how guilty of what. Then it would be — decided.”
“Who would decide, Ivo? I couldn’t.”
“I don’t think I could, either. I’m not objective. But — you know him better than I do — I thought your husband might—”
“He’s fond of her, Ivo. He wouldn’t want to pass judgment on her.” There was no sign of jealousy in her manner, and Ivo knew she was not the type to conceal what she felt, in such an area. It told him something about her, something nice; but it told more about Groton.
“He’d have to agree, of course. But if it seemed a real trial would clear the air — make things all right again—”
Beatryx stiffened. “Look, Ivo! Look!”
Alarmed, suspecting mayhem or calamity, he followed her gaze. There was nothing.
“On that tomato leaf!” she whispered, trembling with excitement.
He looked, relieved that it was nothing important. “Looks perfectly healthy to me. But you’ll have to spray—”
Then he brought up short. “A bug!”
“A bug!” she repeated.
“It must have been a worm in the tomato,” he said. “I thought everything was sterilized.”
“Maybe we’ll have lots of bugs,” she said, excited. “Triton bugs. And flies and spiders and worms. Maybe they’ll get in the house and we’ll have to put up screens!”
It had been so long since they had seen any creature apart from the four members of the party that this was a signal discovery. “We are not alone,” he said. “It’s a good omen.”
“Do you think it’s warm enough here for it?” she inquired anxiously. “Should I bring it some food? What do they eat?”
Ivo smiled. “Nature knows best. I’m sure it’s sitting on its supper right now. If we leave it alone it will probably raise a family soon. But I’ll photograph a bug-book for you from the macroscope, so you can identify it.”
“Oh thank you!” she said sincerely.
He left her kneeling beside the plant. If there were such things as omens, this was surely a sign that the nadir for the Triton party had passed.
“A trial.” Groton considered it. “There may be something in that. Certainly something needs to be done. That girl is very near the edge.” If Beatryx had changed because of the stress of recent months, Groton had not. He seemed to have the most stable personality among them.
“I got the idea from something I remembered. A bit on animal psychology. A dog had strayed or got lost somehow — I don’t know the details — but after a few days his master got him back. The master was very glad to have him safe, but the dog just moped around the house, hardly eating or resting. Finally the man asked a veterinarian about the problem. The man said to roll up a newspaper and give the animal a good swat on the rear.”
“That wasn’t very helpful.”
“It cured the dog. It seemed the dog expected to be punished for getting lost, and couldn’t revert to normal until that punishment was over. He was just waiting for it, brooding, knowing things weren’t right until it came. One token swat, and that dog almost tore the house apart for joy. The slate was clean again, you see.”
“You suggest that a swat on the rear will cure Afra?”
“I don’t know. It can’t bring Brad back, of course, but the guilt—” Groton sat down. “You know, you’re right about the guilt. It has no outlet — we don’t blame her, really. But a trial? Well, hard to say what would do the job of expunging guilt…”
“You would have to make the decision. On her guilt, I mean. Weigh the evidence, institute appropriate punishment—”
“Yes, I suppose I would.”
Ivo could appreciate Groton’s unease. They were all guilty, by their prior inaction, as much as Afra by her action. Who were they to pass judgment upon her?
Groton opened the roll-top desk he had built for his study and drew out a sheet of paper. It was a circular chart divided into twelve pie-sections, with a smaller circle in the center. There were symbols all around the edge and in several of the segments, together with assorted numbers. Below the large circle were several geometrical drawings identified by further symbols.
“This is her horoscope. Suppose I explain some of it to you, and you tell me whether this thing we contemplate is wise.”
Ivo doubted that this particular tack would help, but he was becoming accustomed to Groton’s method of getting at a problem. If the astrological chart helped him to make up his mind (as Beatryx had once hinted), more power to it. He also remembered the coincidental insight of his own horoscope, that had pointed to Schön rather than to himself. That had been uncanny.
“Do you know what I mean by the houses, cardinal signs, alchemy of the elements, portmanteau analysis—”
“Say again, quarterspeed?”
Groton smiled. “Just testing. I didn’t want to insult you by oversimplifying. I’ll stick as much as I can to layman’s language — but I want you to understand that this is simplified, to the point where what I tell you is only approximately true.”
“Why can’t you just give me the summaries, as you did before?” Ivo did not want to say that a detailed technical lecture was something other than he had bargained for.
“Because that would be too much of me speaking. I need to show you enough of the principles so that you understand the essence of what the chart says, on your own. You may have a different opinion from mine, and your interpretation could help me to reach my own decision.”
Groton’s manner reminded him of Afra’s when she had insisted on the handling. The full
meaning and validity of her request had not been clear to him until later; then he realized that her instinct had been sure. Groton evidently had reservations about this procedure, but was overruling them for some good reason. It would be wise to oblige. More and more, he was being made aware that his own views of things were often based on pitifully inadequate information.
“All right. One opinion on tap, for what it’s worth.”
Groton pointed to the chart. “Notice that this is in twelve segments. Actually, it is twenty-four segments: twelve superimposed on the other twelve, but for convenience we employ a single diagram. I have placed the identifiers around the rim, you see.”
“I recognize the numbers one through twelve; that’s about all.” He continued to study the obscure markings, however. “And Neptune! I couldn’t forget that symbol. There in the six-box.”
“That’s enough for a start. Let’s call that the top disk: the twelve houses, numbered counterclockwise. The houses, roughly, represent circumstance: the situation, the potentiality the individual has to work with. That’s not good or bad in itself; he may exploit it or not. But it’s there, much as the chessmen we discussed before are there, ready for the game.”
“Twelve different circumstances?”
“Yes. The first house represents identity, the second possessions, the third environment, and so on. That’s really an oversimplification—”
“You explained. Ballpark estimates.”
“Yes. Now the planets move through these houses, that are really segments of the celestial equator. Three-dimensional segments, to be sure, like those of an orange — but twelve of them make up the heavens about Earth.”
Ivo looked at the chart again. “So the center circle is Earth, and the outer one is the rest of the universe, carved up into twelve big houses, and we’re looking down at an orange sliced in half. Yes.”
“Close enough. The planets represent the particular ways in which the individual asserts himself. The sun in the first house means—”
“The sun? I thought you said planets.”
“We consider the sun and moon to be planets. It is best to set aside what you know about astronomy, for this; it has almost no genuine relation to astrology.”
“I begin to appreciate your sincerity. So the sun is a planet.”
“Viewed from Earth, they are all moving bodies, Sol and Luna no less than Venus or Pluto. They all have changing positions in the sky. We’re not revising astronomy; we are merely arranging our terms to suit our convenience. Technically, it is astronomy that did the revising; it was originally a subdivision of astrology, and all the early astronomers were primarily astrologers. There is no conflict.”
“I follow.”
“The sun indicates purpose, the moon feeling, Mars initiative, and so on. There are tables in the books that give all this, if you find it helps. So the sun in the first house puts the planet of purpose in the house of identity. A person with this configuration, according to one description, is determined to exalt his ego one way or another, and tries to dominate his immediate situation. That doesn’t mean he succeeds; this is merely his impulse. He may be bombastic rather than great.”
“You sound as if you have a reservation. Are there other descriptions for what sun-in-first means?”
“There are always differences in interpretation. But my reservation stems from the oversimplification. The whole chart must be considered, not just the sun, or unfortunate mistakes can be made. You see, one of our group has this particular placement.”
“Afra!”
“That’s what I mean. It isn’t Afra, as you can see by her chart; the first house is empty. It’s Beatryx.”
“I think I’m catching on. If a person is born when the sun is in one of these segments, that tells something about his personality — but only something, not everything. And I guess the sun has to be somewhere. What is the second house?”
“Possessions, among other things. Here, I’ll make out a list; that’s easiest, I think.”
“Oh yes. So the sun in the second house puts purpose in possessions. That man will be out to make money.”
“Or to achieve personal advantage some other way,” Groton said, not pausing in his listing. “You have the general idea. Again, there is no guarantee he’ll make a fortune — but he’ll probably try.”
“Where is the sun in my — in Schön’s horoscope?”
“The twelfth house. That’s confinement.”
“Purpose in confinement.” Ivo thought that over. “This begins to grow on me, I must admit.”
“Just remember that the sun, important as it is, can be outweighed by an opposing configuration elsewhere. And of course the entire horoscope represents probability, not certainty. Heredity is obviously a major influence. Leo is the sign of the lion, but a mouse born into Leo is still a mouse.”
“I’ll remember,” Ivo agreed, smiling. “A leonine Mickey.”
“Notice the position of the sun in Afra’s horoscope.”
Ivo studied the chart once more, finding it less confusing. “Is that the little circle with the dot inside? That’s in the ninth house. But that’s not the only thing there.”
“It certainly isn’t alone, and in certain respects this is a remarkable chart. But let’s ignore the others for the moment. The sun symbol goes near the rim, you see, followed by the ecliptic position in degrees and minutes, and on the inside is the zodiacal sign, which we’ll go into in a moment.”
“What does the ninth house stand for?”
“Understanding, consciousness, knowledge.”
“So Afra has purpose in understanding. That means she wants to know things — and if her heredity gives her high intelligence, she’ll come to know a great deal.”
“The text says: ‘The sun in the ninth house places the practical focus of life in a determination to exalt the ego through high standards and broadened interests. This position always encourages a conscious lean towards an intellectual understanding or a religious orientation. At his best the native is able to bring effective insights or genuine wisdom to every situation, and at his worst he is apt to meet all reality with a complacent intolerance or bigotry.’ ”
“That sounds close enough. But it is really so general it could apply to almost anyone.”
“We’ll try to get more specific — one planet at a time. You can’t divide all humanity into twelve basic groupings without being general. By the time we check ten planets against twelve houses and twelve signs and verify with the symbols of the ascendants and overall patterns, we begin to have definition resembling that of the macroscope. Now where do you see the moon?”
“Right beside the sun. Same house.”
“The moon represents feeling.”
“So that’s feeling in understanding. To know her is to love her?” He said it lightly, but knew it had happened to him.
“No, that’s an outside impression, not controlled by her horoscope. It’s what she feels and understands that’s important here. Specifically: ‘The moon in the ninth house centers all personal experience in issues of morality, elevating ends and reasons above practical needs. This position exaggerates every concern over ideas and motives. The native at his best is able to approach reality with an understanding support for every human capacity, and at his worst he is apt to worry over abstractions and dissipate every impulse to action.’ Do you recognize Afra there?”
“Yes, in a way. You know, this is — well, isn’t it really pretty private? I have the feeling I’m prying into things that aren’t my business.” He saw that he was tacitly admitting an acceptance of astrology, but didn’t care. “Nudity of the body is one thing, but—”
“Good point. I consider a person’s detailed horoscope to be very like the privileged information given to a lawyer, or perhaps a priest. Or medical or financial statements. This is one reason I hesitated to show you her chart before. But if we are to pass a judgment on her that may affect her entire life—”
Ivo saw the point. �
��I’ll — keep all this confidential. Even if she doesn’t believe in astrology, or I don’t, it’s still—”
Groton went on to another section. “The signs of the ecliptic define character. There are twelve of them, spaced similarly to the houses, but they are not identical to the houses. That’s why we have to mark their symbols; the indications around the edge are only approximate, since the signs are not geometrically defined in the manner of the houses. Where do you spot the sun this time?”
“The sign is a cross between a square-root symbol and a hunchbacked musical note.”
“That’s Capricorn — the Goat. This is—”
Ivo interrupted him to run down a nagging connection. “What did you say Schön was?”
“Aries — the Ram. You can recognize his symbol by the spreading horns, situated in this case at the cusp of the twelfth house.”
“I see it. The circle with the antlers.”
“No, not that one; that’s Taurus the Bull. Next above it.”
Ivo located the correct symbol. “So that’s how you separate the sheep from the goats! But what’s Aries doing on the Goat’s chart? I thought—”
“All houses and all signs appear on all charts. There’s a little of everything in every person’s makeup. But the positions of the planets show the emphasis for any one person. Schön’s sun is in Aries, while Afra’s Mars is in Aries; an entirely different matter, I assure you.”
“The sun is more important?”
“That depends on the configuration. Generally, it is; that’s why the popularized horoscopes use it, though that’s like saying that your brain is more important than your heart. Aries rules the brain, coincidentally. But you can’t get along without either one. In Afra’s case Mars does have great weight, and perhaps makes her as much a fire person as is Schön. But the combination of sun, moon and Mercury in Capricorn puts enormous stress on earth — well, I don’t want to get off into subjective interpretation. This is a BUCKET pattern, and the handle-planet, Mars, reveals a special capacity or important direction of interest. So this aspect of her chart indicates initiative and extreme self-containment.”
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