Norton felt another chill. Time bomb indeed! "Maybe I can go back and destroy the demon before it escapes. It was in my possession, after all."
Thanatos shook his head. "You can not. That is the other aspect of Satan's mischief. The three-person limit prevents you." And he explained about that.
Chronos was the only entity who could travel in time and he was largely immune from paradox—but there were limits. His easiest way was simply to proceed along his natural life course, backward to the date of his birth. It required magical effort to reverse his direction and match that of ordinary people, as he was doing now, more effort to travel through historical time, and more yet to take physical form and act in such a time. But the magic of the Hourglass made it possible, and he could indeed change reality by changing the past. But in such cases, he was there in two persons—himself in his original, normal life, and himself in his return as Chronos. Doubling himself was in his power; it had to be, for him to use his power effectively. But tripling himself was another matter; then he was making a third appearance at a given time, interfering with himself as Chronos, and the potential for paradox magnified exponentially.
No one could interfere with an Incarnation with impunity—not even if that Incarnation was himself. That strained the power of the Hourglass, for it was itself being doubled and was opposing itself. It was theoretically possible for this to occur, but so awkward that it was hardly worthwhile to try. If he did try, most likely he would bounce off and land in a time when there was no duplication, possibly doing incidental mischief in the process. In short, the risks were probably greater than the likely benefits; mischief in time was the most awkward to undo—because of the three-person limit. Chronos could do damage that Chronos could not correct.
"And Satan knew that!" Norton exclaimed. "He knew I could not change my mind once I changed the past—even if it was inadvertent."
"True," Thanatos agreed. "Had you taken the demon to the Mess o' Pottage shop, you would have nullified the best efforts of Atropos and myself, for in such interactions Chronos is more powerful than Thanatos. The rest of us can double only by your action—and we can be rendered nonexistent by your action, too. Only God and Satan, the true Eternals, are exempt from that."
Something about this explanation bothered Norton, but he was not able to pin it down. "Then there is no way to stop what Satan's minion has done?" he asked. "If I can't return to stop the demon—"
"There should be a way," Luna said. "Satan's minions do not endure long apart from him. That demon must have done its deed and expired. If we can identify what he did and nullify it before it impinges on human events, then the victory will be ours. We probably have time, because Satan sought to distract you; he would not have bothered, had the deed been truly irrevocable."
"It was some distraction!" Norton admitted ruefully. "He said he was showing me the nature of his bribe to encourage me to take his minion to the Mess o' Pottage. All the time he knew this was pointless or impossible. He was certainly angry when he learned I'd destroyed the horn, though; he must have thought the mission had been a complete failure."
"We were lucky," Luna said. "We could have been lost before we had a chance to fight back. But that secondary mission can still destroy us. How is it coming, Atropos?"
"I have almost pinpointed the time and place," Atropos said. "But not the deed. I only know that when it manifests, it will give Satan the victory. My threads have tension on them that threatens haywire shifting. I need to comprehend it further."
Norton's mind had been running back over his recent experiences with Satan. The globular cluster, the Magic Lantern Cloud, and his adventures there—suddenly the thing that had bothered him came clear. He had doubled himself in those adventures, rescuing himself from the Bem and saving Excelsia from the Alicorn. It had been not only possible but easy. How, then, could the three person limit be such a formidable force? Did it exist at all?
"Gaea," Luna said.
"I will take Atropos to her," Thanatos said, rising and resuming his cloak.
"Take us all," Luna said. "Chronos must meet her, too."
"Gaea—another Incarnation?" Norton asked. It seemed to him he had heard that name before; Gawain the Ghost had said—
"The Green Mother," Luna explained. "Nature."
Yes, that was it; Gaea had changed the baby for Gawain and thereby had caused terrible mischief. The memory of that banished Norton's three-person speculation from his attention; he wanted to meet this powerful yet fallible entity.
The four of them walked out to the estate parking lot, paced by the guardian griffins. They were certainly beautiful animals! Beside the parking lot there was a small, verdant pasture. A handsome stallion of pale hue grazed there.
"Mortis," Thanatos called.
The pale horse perked up his ears and trotted over. He was a truly splendid animal, with a sleek hide and firm muscles; had he had wings and a horn, he could have passed for another Alicorn. This was, Norton remembered, the Death horse—the steed who carried Thanatos to his appointments.
"We need transportation for four—to the Green Mother," Thanatos said to the horse.
Mortis stepped onto the pavement—and shifted into the form of a pale limousine. Norton gaped. "That—but that's a machine!" he protested.
Thanatos drew his cloak about him more tightly; as the hood closed, the skull-face manifested with its gruesome grin. "Mortis is an excellent steed—but perhaps no more remarkable than your little ring." He opened a door for the ladies.
Squeeze. Sning liked that comparison. He was another creature who converted from living to dead, or vice versa.
Norton walked around the car, noting that the tag in back said, MORTIS. And he had thought the Alicorn was remarkable! When magic and science were one, such miracles were commonplace. He opened a door and climbed in.
He found himself in the back seat beside Clotho. She shrugged at his startled glance. "I want to be presentable for Ge," she explained.
Of course. Fate changed bodies the way others changed clothes. This made it seem like a double date, for Thanatos and Luna were companions, while he and Clotho—well, what did it matter? His old existence as a mortal was behind him.
The car started smoothly, driving itself. It turned about—and abruptly it was zooming through space and matter. The world was rushing past in a smear of color. Then this slowed, and they were driving into the gate of a truly sumptuous estate with luxuriant trees of many varieties and a sparkling lake. It was the kind of place that could charge tourists for visits.
A huge shape loomed in the sky ahead. Norton peered through the windshield. "That—that's a—"
"A roc," Luna said calmly. "The largest of birds. Ge has made her estate into a preserve for rare and magical creatures. It's hard to imagine how she salvaged the rocs."
The roc swooped toward them, its wings seeming to span the whole horizon. It pounced on the car, its monstrous talons poking into the windows and vents, and picked up the vehicle together with its occupants as if this were no more than a mouse. In moments they were dangling high in the air.
One talon was near Norton's face, projecting from the top of the window to the ceiling of the car. The talon was like fine blue steel, an inch in diameter at the window and tapering to a needle point. What a bird!
Luna turned to Thanatos, unruffled. "Ge is testing us," she remarked. "Perhaps you had better perform a token, just to reassure her."
"Gently," Clotho cautioned him. "We are fairly high at the moment."
"Gently," Thanatos agreed. He reached up and touched a talon with a skeletal finger.
The bird shuddered—and so did the car. The roc had felt the touch of Death, and that was a touch no creature ignored. The roc spiraled down to the ground and set the car gently back on the road. Then it hastily departed.
Norton realized why caution had been advisable. Thanatos could have stunned or killed the big bird—but that would have led to a crash landing. So he had merely given warning—
and the roc, recognizing a power more sinister than its own, had yielded.
But a new problem loomed. A cloud formed, and rain slanted down from it, turning rapidly to sleet and then snow. From the right puffed smoke and steam; then a vent opened and molten rock poured out. The lava was not moving rapidly, but it was hideously hot; the vegetation it touched burst instantly into flame. The snow, on the other side, was already piling so deep that the ear could not plow through it.
Clotho shook her head. "Ge." She sighed as if addressing a naughty child. "Mortis, follow my thread." She flicked a finger, and a thread flew out, passing through the windshield without touching it and extending in front of the car, glowing.
Mortis followed it. The thread wound through the slush melted by the lava, left the road, traveled along a ridge that held the lava temporarily at bay, and went across a narrow channel that concentrated the lava. The car speeded up to hurdle the ditch, then slued about to follow the curving thread toward the main mass of lava. This seemed hazardous indeed to Norton, particularly since the traction was treacherous and the visibility almost nil, but the thread of Fate knew exactly where to go. That, of course, was part of Fate's business—to know the intricacies of man's interaction with Nature. They threaded their way successfully between snow and lava, sometimes with each close enough to touch on either side from a window, sometimes pausing, then scooting forward, avoiding a minor avalanche, and emerged onto a firm, dry road. Fate had foiled Nature.
Then Norton experienced an urgent need to relieve himself. His gut knotted and his bladder swelled. "Uh, if we could stop a moment..." he said.
Luna fidgeted. "Ge again; we all feel it. No way to avoid it, and stopping won't relieve it. It's her specialty for intruders: instant flu." Her cheek seemed greenish.
Indeed, now Norton's stomach roiled. Beside him, Clotho looked seasick, and Thanatos seemed about as sick as a skeleton could be.
Clotho turned to him. "Your turn, Chronos."
Oh. Norton lifted the Hourglass, turned the sand blue, and willed the immediate region to be included in a short hop. There was a small jump, and the discomfort abated.
He had brought the car and occupants five minutes into the past, which was his future, before the illness commenced.
Clotho took a deep breath. "Thank you, Chronos. A girl doesn't like to look sick in public." She brought out a small mirror and checked her young and pretty face.
He had not violated the three-person rule, since he had not duplicated himself. Well, perhaps he had, because he had been phased in to real-world time. The others and the car would be duplicated for five minutes, but by the time the other carful of them caught up to this spot on the road, this car would be gone, and so there should be no problem. The other carful would fade out, leaving this one.
Or could the other carful have been retroactively erased? That would avoid the three-person problem. There was still a lot he did not understand about his office.
Now the mansion of the Green Mother Nature was before them. It seemed to be formed of vegetation, its thick wood alive and leafy, with a streamlet flowing from level to level in the manner of a fountain. Animals peeped from crannies—bunnies, wrens, lizards, and perhaps an elf or two. This was indeed the handiwork of the Earth Mother.
The car parked, they got out, and Mortis reconverted to equine form and set about grazing beside the mansion. Had they really been inside a horse all this time? Norton shook his head, filing the matter as another wonder to be pondered at leisure at such time as he was alone with a campfire. The four walked up to the entrance.
Gaea met them there. She was a stoutish woman of middle age with a crown of woven leaves and vines and a dress of leaves and pine needles; green was certainly her color. She seemed to Norton to possess an aura of competence and power; this was no innocuous creature.
If green was Nature's color, he reflected, then surely black was Thanatos', and white his own. But what would be Fate's color?
"We're in trouble, Ge," Clotho said without preamble. "Satan tricked Chronos into taking a demon back in time to eliminate Luna. That was partly balked by paradox, but there's a sleeper. I can't quite track it down."
Gaea glanced at Norton. "My apology for my error," she murmured.
No confusion there! She was referring to the problem with Oriene's baby. "Accepted," he said. He knew she had helped facilitate his present office as compensation for that error.
Gaea turned to Clotho. "Let me see it."
Clotho held out her hands, the network of threads between them. Gaea peered. "May I?" she asked.
"You may," Clotho replied.
Gaea made a little gesture with a hand near the threads. They changed—and the environment changed. The threads became curling green vines with sprouting leaves—and the five human figures in the mansion seemed to be standing in an enormous garden, existing on the scale of insects.
The vine-threads wove through the fabric of this new reality in an amazingly complex scheme. Everything seemed to relate, in some obvious or devious fashion, to everything else. Of course, that was the nature of reality, or the reality of nature, and of fate, and this manifestation was hardly surprising, since these were the very Incarnations of Nature and Fate.
Gaea walked along a vine. "Here it is," she said. "Here is where the threads were crossed."
The others crowded close. Norton saw that a tiny stem, something like a section of fine straw, had been moved, so that it crossed the main vine in a slightly different place. The change hardly seemed significant.
Clotho concentrated—and the vines expanded, until the large vine seemed to be the diameter of the height of a man and the small stem was three inches through. "I will analyze the small one," Gaea said. "That one's dead, but I believe it holds the key." She gestured. A glow formed about the small vine and the place from which it had been moved. Colored light radiated from that region, separating into prismatic components, bathing them all in rainbow hues.
"There," Gaea said, pointing to a dark band amidst the colored light. "The spectrograph shows it. Contamination."
"Dangerous?" Clotho asked.
Gaea frowned. "No. It's cyanide, but that was there before the interference. It has been chemically nullified, so that its effect on a human being would be minimal. A few hours of queasiness, no more."
"Why should Satan act to nullify an existing poison?" Thanatos asked.
Clotho inspected the larger vine. "Oops," she said. "Now at last I fathom it. What an insidious plot!"
Gaea looked at her expectantly. "You had slated a poisoning?"
"Not exactly," Clotho said. "Here, Lachesis can explain it better." She shifted to middle-aged form. "I do not slate people for doom any more than Thanatos kills them," Lachesis said. "I merely weave the threads in necessary patterns. Some mortals must prosper and some must decline, and there is no guaranteed personal justice in this. My concern is not for individuals, but for the pattern as a whole. In this case, a certain older man of indifferent qualities had to be woven out in order to make way for a young woman of superior qualities. So—he was accidentally poisoned, mostly by his own carelessness. He swallowed a pill contaminated by cyanide and died at the age of sixty-two. It was small loss for the world, though he was politically prominent."
"Cyanide," Luna said thoughtfully. "I remember—"
"The same," Lachesis agreed.
"I don't understand," Norton said.
Lachesis faced him. "This remains in your future—but you do need to know now. The senior Senator from Luna's state died in office, so a special election was scheduled. Luna ran for that office with the support of the Forces of Good and won. This is the office she now holds."
"Luna is a Senator?" Norton asked, surprised. He might have heard about it before, but it hadn't sunk in.
"And an excellent one," Thanatos said with a certain possessive pride. "At the moment, the Senate isn't in session, so she's not in the news, but normally she is. She was first elected eight years ago and is now well
established with a firm base of support. She may one day become our first female President."
"I haven't decided to run yet!" Luna protested, embarrassed.
Norton was embarrassed too. He had been so much out of touch with contemporary affairs that he had never heard of Senator Kaftan during his ordinary life.
"But after you balk Satan in that critical showdown, you will be the front runner," Lachesis said. "I see it in the threads."
No wonder Satan didn't like Luna! A powerful female political figure, allied with the Incarnations themselves, possessed of a legacy of magic from her Magician father—she would be in an excellent position to balk any political ploy the Prince of Evil tried! Obviously he had something in mind and needed her out of office so she couldn't interfere. "Then the demon I took back in time—"
"Went and nullified the contaminated capsule that the original Senator was destined to take," Lachesis concluded. "So when he takes it, he won't die and will remain in office, and there will be no special election for Luna to win. She will remain a lesser officeholder and not become a Senator, and will not be in a position to foil him politically at the critical moment."
Subtle indeed! "But couldn't she win the office in a normal election?"
"Against an incumbent? No chance! The Senator has to be dead before giving up his seat." Lachesis grimaced. "And even if she did manage to oust him, it wouldn't be the same. Taking office four years later, she wouldn't have the same seniority. That's important for key committees and influence—especially the committee chairmanship that will give her the specific authority she needs. No, Luna has to win that seat when she did—which means we have to restore that capsule before the Senator takes it."
"But this is murder!" Norton cried, aghast.
"We do deal in life and death," Gaea said, with a significant glance at Thanatos.
"But in their proper pattern," Lachesis said. "Is it really murder to restore the events of the past to their original settings?"
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