Demon (GAIA) (25 page)

“I don’t know. But go on.”

“Shit.
Grow up!
” he thundered. “That’s what she said. Stop making your decisions about people based on what they look like.” He stopped, and shook his head sadly. “Nova, I could rattle on for half an hour, like a CBC public service spot, about how you’re supposed to love the Qubeheads and the Normans and the Beecees and the Eeks and the niggers and the poor and little fuzzy animals and rattlesnakes. I hated some of those people when I was a kid, too. These days I keep my hate for slavers and babyleggers…and like that. Every person I meet is on probation, because it’s a no-kidding dangerous world out there, and you’re
right
to be suspicious of new faces. But if they don’t prove themselves to be villains, why, then you treat them as you’d like to be treated, like the old golden rule. If a friend of mine has a friend, then he’s my friend, too, until he proves otherwise. I don’t care if he’s black, brown, yellow or white, male or female, young or old, two-legged or four-legged or sixteen-legged. And I’m a good friend to have, too. I’m loyal as hell, and I wash my own dishes.”

“I’m loyal, too!” she protested.

“Sure. To anybody on your side of the line. Which is only two-legged females. Valiha can’t be your friend because she looks like an animal, and I can’t because I have a cock.” He pointed out the windscreen at the empty sky. “That poor little brother of yours can’t be your friend, either, because you don’t see him as human. Nova, just looking at you—at the
good
part of you—I know you’d be a terrific person to have on my side. But I can’t cross that line.”

He sighed, and leaned back. Nova had watched in fascination, not getting a lot of it, such as the
part about Qubeheads and niggers. She hadn’t the vaguest notion of what either of those might be. And why did he bring skin color into it? What did that have to do with anything?

“How would you suggest I go about this? Should you and I make sex?”

He threw up his hands.

“I’m hurt. I really am. You think I said all that just to get in your pants?”

“I’m…sorry. I don’t know what I said wrong, though.”

He looked tired.

“I guess you don’t, do you? All right. Can you take honesty and not get angry? I’d
love
to ‘make sex’ with you. I was offended because, where I grew up, guys will say just about anything to get girls to go to bed with them, and here I am being so stinking noble it makes me sick, so it hurt me you thought it was all a line. But you were serious, weren’t you?”

“Yes. I’ll do it, if it’s what has to be done.”

“Kinder words have never been spoken to me.”

“Did I offend again? I’m sorry.”

He grinned.

“You’re getting better at that. I appreciate it. Shows you’re trying. Listen, Nova, you ought to talk this over with your mother.
She
figured out how to do it. But if you want my opinion, you should do what I did when Cirocco started straightening
me
out. I was a right ’orrible stinking bigot when I got here. I’m not perfect, but I’m better. So when I thought ‘Frog,’ or ‘Qubehead,’ I changed it to ‘Canadian.’ When I thought ‘black,’ I changed it to ‘white.’ So when you hear ‘man,’ change it to ‘woman.’ When you look at a person and think ‘Titanide,’ change it to ‘sister.’ When you think about Adam, pretend he’s your baby sister. Think how you’d feel.”

She thought about it, and was amazed at her rage. It went away quickly—it was only a trick, after all—but it was interesting to think of how the world would be if those things were true.

“Can I check an impression I have?” he asked. She nodded. “You find me…physically repulsive,
don’t you.”

And another amazing thing happened. She felt herself blushing.

“I don’t wish to offend…”

“I’d prefer honesty.”

She nodded, uncomfortably. “You have too much hair. Your chin is so rough, I think it would be painful to be kissed by you. Your arms and legs are…wrong. Do these things…attract Earth women?”

He grinned again.

“They have been known to.”

“And you find me…attractive,” she said.

“More than that. You are stunning. You’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”

Nova shook her head in wonder.

“It’s a funny world,” she said.

“What’s wrong? Do lesbians have different ideas of beauty?”

“I don’t know. In the Coven, I was freakishly tall. No one thought me beautiful.” She looked at him again. “Is it true that men don’t find extreme height unattractive?”

“Not in Artillery Lake,” Conal chuckled. “Swear to God, after Cirocco Jones, I rate you number two.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous,” she sniffed. She might have said more, but the radar alarm went off, and Cirocco was directing them on a new heading.

It was a shock to them all to discover that the thing which had Adam was not an angel. At least, if it was an angel, then a zombie was a human.

Cirocco cursed quietly as she studied it with her binoculars. Chris couldn’t take his eyes off the thing. But when Cirocco handed him the binoculars he had to force himself to look.

His worst fears were not realized. Studying Adam, he couldn’t see the bites of deathsnakes. Cradled in those repulsive arms, head hanging down, dark hair blowing in the wind, Adam was taking a snooze.

Chris had to lower the glasses and stop his trembling hands. He looked through them again and confirmed to a certainty what his heart already knew: the child was alive. Twice Chris saw Adam’s mouth open and close, as though chomping, and he could see the tiny chest rise and fall.

Finally he was able to turn his attention to the zombie-angel.

It was a very old one. He couldn’t see any skin remaining. There was just the skeletal framework, the feathers, and the networks of deathsnakes holding it together.

Robin was getting insistent, so he handed her the binoculars.

Cirocco let out a deep breath.

“Okay. That’s why we didn’t find it at first. It’s flying faster than a live angel could. We’re almost to Cronus.”

Chris wanted to scream. He wanted to shout a thousand stupid questions, run in circles, bay at the moon. He swallowed it all. Remain calm, remain calm. Locate the fire exits. Move in an orderly manner. Don’t lose your balance, put your head between your knees if you feel faint…and
think. Think!

“Any ideas?” Cirocco said. Chris listened to the dead silence, both in the plane and over the radio.

“All right,” Cirocco said. “Priorities. Number one, we do nothing to endanger him. Conal, we’re going to drop back a little bit so there’s no chance we’ll disturb the air currents. How does two hundred meters sound?”

“It’s okay with me, Cirocco,” Conal’s voice came back.

“Ideas?” she asked again.

“W-w-what if he, uh, drops him?” Chris managed to say.

“That’s not an idea, that’s a situation.” She frowned, and thought about it for a while. “Okay. I’m going to drop down about a kilometer and stay slightly behind him. Conal, you stay where you are. If you see the baby fall, I want to hear about it a tenth of a second later. I’ll jump out and get him.”

Parachutes! Chris thought. Something was wrong with him, he should have thought of that. He turned around and scrambled along the gear in back, looking for them. Only it couldn’t be Cirocco, that was crazy, it had to be—

“Sorry, Cirocco,” Conal said.

Cirocco looked amazed for a moment.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘Sorry, Cirocco’?”

“It won’t work,” Conal said. “For one thing, the Captain doesn’t leave her ship. That must have slipped your mind. But even if you could, you have to fly it.”

“
Chris
can fly it!”

“Sorry again, Cirocco. He told me he’s getting too big.”

Bless him, Chris thought.

“He’s right, Cirocco,” Chris said, quickly. He was clipping his parachute—a fabric tube about the size of a tightly rolled umbrella—to the rings on his flak suit.

“That’s crazy,” Cirocco said. “You just move the lousy seat back and—”

He looked right at her.

“I’ve forgotten how to fly,” he said. She kept staring at him, and he was able to return it calmly.
Finally she sighed, and nodded.

“All right. Now—”

“I should be the one,” Robin said.

“God
damn
it! Who’s the—”

“I’ve done some free-falling,” Robin said, raising her voice slightly. “Chris hasn’t. I’d have a better chance of getting to him.”

“He’s my responsibility,” Chris said, with a meaningful look at Robin.

“I’m better trained,” Robin shot back.

Cirocco looked from one to the other with fire in her eye.

“Anybody else going to put their in their two-cent’s worth?” she asked.

“I’ll do it,” came Nova’s voice. “I’ve done twenty times as much parachuting as Robin. I was the Coven champion two years ago.”

“Well blow me down,” Cirocco muttered, then raised her voice. “All right, enough of this. We’re all grandstanding and we’re not getting anything done. Conal, you stay
right
where you are.”

“You got it, Captain.”

“Robin, Chris, if we get the word, you
both
go.”

They got chutes rigged, and outlined the procedure for opening the plane and jumping. Robin worked the door latch a few times and pushed the door open just to make sure she could do it quickly.

“Right,” Cirocco said. “Any more ideas?”

“I was thinking about the hand-off, Cirocco,” Conal said.

“What about it?”

“Well, we’re going to see the second one coming quite a while before it gets here. What if we shoot it down?”

No one spoke as everyone tried to work out all the implications of that. Chris began to think it might be a good idea.

“No,” Cirocco finally said. “Not yet, anyway. First, I don’t think they can make it with just one relay. I’m guessing four or five. So we should watch the first one and see how it’s done, and be ready to catch him. If this one gets beyond the half-way point and then the relay shows up, we re-think it.”

“I don’t get it,” Robin said. “If we shoot down the relay, this one’s going to get tired and it’ll have to land. Then we can take it, easy.”

Cirocco nodded.

“That seems logical, doesn’t it. But you can bet Gaea thought of that, and she’s got some angle. We’ll find out what it is on the first hand-off.”

Chris agreed, though it was torture to wait.

“I’m just throwing this out for discussion,” Conal said. “But could we try to take him? Is there any way I could maneuver closer and…well, I don’t have the steps worked out.”

“I don’t think so, Conal,” Cirocco said. “We have to stick to our first priority, which is not to endanger him.”

“Okay, I’ll say it,” Conal said. “Why is he safer in the arms of that thing than falling through the air with Chris and Robin ready to catch him? And why do you think he’ll be safe if those bastards get him to Gaea?”

Chris swallowed hard. He’d been keeping those thoughts in the back of his mind, but they hadn’t been happy there. Now they scrabbled around in his brain, urging him to scream.

Cirocco looked very tired.

“I think he will be completely safe with Gaea,” she said, heavily. “At least physically. I’m sure she wants him alive,” She frowned. “Pretty sure. Hold on while I check it out.”

She pounded her fist on the sprawled, sleeping form of the Snitch. He squalled, and leaped to his feet.

“No more matches, no more matches!” He stopped, stunned.

“My
head
!” He collapsed, chin on the dashboard, and covered his head with his feet. Cirocco
pulled them away, one at a time.

“Relax, Snitch,” she said. “You answer some questions and I won’t hurt you anymore. And I’ll give you three more drops.”

One eye popped up on a slender stalk.

“No hurt Snitchy-baby?” he whined.

“No hurt.”

“Drinky-winky?”

Cirocco got out the flask and let a drop fall into the demon’s mouth.

“Answer the questions now?”

“Fire when ready, puss.”

“We’ve found the child we were looking for.”

“Tha’s nice. Didn’t do you lotsa good, did it?”

“No. He’s going to Gaea, isn’t he?”

Snitch nodded.

“Gaea loves the little shit. Gaea’ll be real good to him. Star pris’ner. Nothin’ too good for li’l ol’ Adam. Stinkin’ Priests out beatin’ the bushes for
weeks
when the word came down the li’l bashtard’s on his way.”

“I don’t understand how—” Robin began, but Cirocco silenced her with a gesture. She leaned over, and Chris could barely hear the whisper.

“When he’s off his guard like this we can learn a lot.”

He seemed to have gone back to sleep. Cirocco waved the eyedropper near him and his head came up, following it back and forth.

“More, Snitch.”

The tiny demon began to weep.

“More, more, more, alla time it’s more…
what do they want from me?
Why can’t I get any peace?
They keep after you, never any rest…and I tell ya, I’m innocent! I was framed! I didn’t ask for any of this, I—”

“Where should I send the Oscar, Snitch?”

“My agent handles all that,” he said, recovering instantly.

“The stinking priests were beating the bushes…” Cirocco prompted.

“—for
weeks
! Whoever found him’s gonna be th’ new Wiz, Gaea says. Da Wiz, da Wiz, da wunnerful, wunnerful Wiz!”

“And the child?”

“He be King! King o’ da Wheel! She look after dat li’l basser real good, I guaran
tee
! Nothin’ but da best.”

“She doesn’t want him dead?”

“No
way
, Jose! Don’ hurt one hair on his li’l beanie, she say, or you wish you could die, only you can’t, cause she gonna keep you alive least a
year
an’ kill you in
pieces
! She got a palace all built to keep him in, all made o’ gold and precious jools and pure plat’num, an’ wet nurses running all around, an’ flunkies to comb his hair and wash his pecker and butter his toes.”

“And why is she doing all this?” Robin asked.

Snitch hiccuped, and turned one bleary eye to her. He looked her up and down, and one corner of his mouth turned up.