Demon (GAIA) (50 page)

She gave speeches. They were
good
speeches. They were good for the same reason the posters were stirring: Cirocco found the people who knew how to paint posters and how to write speeches, and set them to work.

It was all very slick. Even Trini and Stuart had to admit it. When they were in her presence, they
could
feel
it: a force that seemed to emanate from the woman, a power that made you feel good to be around her, and to think good thoughts about her when she was gone. She could be whatever the situation demanded. In a crowd she had the common touch. On a podium she was rousing, uplifting…or alarming, when speaking about the threat of Gaea.

Trini began calling her Charisma Jones, at least when the Mayor wasn’t around. Luckily, it was now possible to
know
when she was around. There were no more of those mysterious appearances. Cirocco seemed ubiquitous.

And that was the big hazard to her, Trini knew. All the good feeling aside, there were still those who hated her. There were two assassination attempts in three kilorevs. There would certainly have been many more in the early days of her administration had she been more accessible. Now, out in the crowds, she made a nice target. Had guns been available, she would not have stood a chance. As it was, those who came at her with knives had died in seconds. Cirocco was too good to need much in the way of bodyguards.

So far. One day a very good archer would stand far away and make a try.

In the meantime, it was good to live in Bellinzona.

When Cirocco began raising an army, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.

“I don’t like all that army stuff,” Robin said.

“Why not? It’s equal opportunity. Men’s regiments and women’s regiments. The pay’s good, the food’s terrific—”

“I never know when you’re kidding anymore.”

“Robin, when it comes to the army, I’m kidding just about all the time. It’s the only way I can cope with it.”

Robin looked at Cirocco Jones, who sat astride Hornpipe, as she was sitting on Valiha. Nearby, the infant Tambura cantered in the gawky and amiable way of all young Titanides, enjoying the educational outing with her foremother, Hornpipe, and the two humans.

The Wizard, the Captain, the Mayor…the Demon. Cirocco Jones was all of them, and she was also an old friend. But sometimes lately she scared Robin. Seeing her at the big rallies in the stadium, watching the throngs cheer her every word…it reminded her too much of the historical footage of demagogues of the past, the silver-tongued rascals who led their people into disaster. She was a stranger, standing up there, arms raised, drinking the vast approval of the crowds.

Yet, on those rare occasions when she could be alone with her, she was just Cirocco. Of course, that had always been slightly overwhelming in itself, but in a quite different way.

Cirocco seemed to sense Robin’s mood. She turned to her, and shook her head.

“Remember what I told you, way back at the Junction,” Cirocco said. “Way back when we planned all this. I told you you wouldn’t like all of it. But I told you to remember it isn’t all what it seems.”

“Putting that editor in jail…that made me sick. He was a good man.”

“I know he is. I admire him. When this is over I’ll use whatever influence I have left—if I’m still alive—to see that he is properly honored. Make him the head of the school of journalism, maybe…and he’ll hate me the rest of his life. With good reason.”

Robin sighed.

“Hell. As soon as she’s sure you’re gone, Trini will just stick him back in jail. Or Stuart.”

They were heading almost due west, into the heart of the Dione darkness. The Titanides had already brought them through the “impenetrable” jungle and up over the “unscalable” mountains about as easily as a pair of tanks moving over paved road. They had swum the Ophion, and were now nearing the Dione central vertical cable. It was like an Earth night with a full moon in the sky. Behind them, Iapetus curved up the inside of the wheel, and in front was Metis. Both regions reflected enough light into Dione for the Titanides to see by. Tambura scampered to the left and right of the main trail, but always returned at a gentle admonition from Valiha, and never got into trouble. Titanide children never did.

Cirocco had not mentioned the purpose of the trip. Robin had thought the central cable was just a landmark on the way to their final destination, but when they reached it, the Titanides stopped.

“We’ll be happy to accompany you, Captain,” Valiha said. “This place holds no horrors for us.”

She was referring to the instinctive fear Titanides held for the central cables, and for the beings which lived at the bottom. Twenty years ago, trapped under a rockfall beneath the central Tethys cable, Robin and Chris had faced the nightmare task of herding Valiha down the five-kilometer spiral stairway that ended in the lair of Tethys himself—a cranky, obsessed, terrifying, and, luckily for them, myopic Lesser God. Valiha’s I.Q. had decreased with every step down, until at the bottom she was no brighter than a horse and twice as skittish. The encounter had ended in two broken forelegs for Valiha, and an endless nightmare for Robin.

It was not a fear the Titanides could do anything about. It had been programmed into them by Gaea.

But Dione was dead, and that apparently made a difference.

“Thanks for the offer, my friends, but I would prefer it if you awaited us here. Our business will not take us long. You might use the opportunity to teach this useless one something of the good grace and dignity your race is known for, and which she so sorely lacks.”

“Hey!” Tambura protested, and leaped at Cirocco, who dodged to the side, grabbed her, and wrestled in mock ferocity until the young Titanide was laughing too hard to continue the game. Cirocco mussed her hair, and took Robin’s arm. They started into the forest of cable strands.

***

At twenty-five centimeters per step, there were twenty thousand steps leading down to Dione. Even in one-quarter gee, it was one hell of a lot of steps.

Cirocco had brought a powerful battery light. Robin was grateful for it. There was natural light from creatures called glowbes which clung to the high, arched ceiling, but it was dim and orange, and there were long stretches where the animals didn’t nest. They marched in silence for a long time.

Robin realized she would probably never get a better chance to talk to Cirocco about something that had been causing her a lot of agony. The new, improved, glorious Mayor had little time these days to spend talking with her friends.

“I don’t suppose it’s possible you don’t know about me and Conal.”

“You’re right. It’s not possible.”

“He wants to move in with me again.”

“Why did you throw him out?”

“I didn’t—” But she had. She might as well admit it, she decided. It had been almost a kilorev now, and she wasn’t getting much sleep. Not used to sleeping alone anymore, she told herself, and knew it was more than that.

“Nova was part of it, I guess,” she said. “Every time I looked at her I saw the accusation, and I felt guilty. I wanted to get close to her again.”

“Worked pretty good, didn’t it?”

“That cold-ass, sanctimonious, snot-nosed little—” She bit it off before the rage could build.

“She’s all I have,” Robin said helplessly.

“That’s not true. And it’s not fair to her.”

“But I—”

“Listen for a minute,” Cirocco cut in. “I’ve given this some thought. I’ve been thinking about it since the feast, since we made the Pledge and started planning to take over Bellinzona. I—”

“You knew
then
?”

“I hate to see friends in such a mess. I’ve stayed out, because people don’t really want advice about things like that. But I have some. If you want it.”

Robin didn’t want it. She had learned that the observations and plans made by the Mayor were usually the right thing to do—and quite often not what you would
like
to do at all.

“I want it,” she said.

Robin counted three hundred steps before Cirocco spoke again. Great Mother, she thought. It must be really awful if she’s taking this much time to choose her words. Who does she think I am?

“Nova hasn’t learned the difference between evil and sin.”

Robin counted fifty more steps.

“Maybe I haven’t, either,” she finally said.

“Naturally, I’m implying that I
have
,” Cirocco said, with a chuckle. “Let me tell you what I
think
, and you can make of it what you will.”

Ten more steps.

“Sin is a violation of the laws of the tribe,” Cirocco said. “On Earth, in most societies, what you practice in the Coven was a sin. There’s another word, too. Perversion. Historically, most humans have seen homosexuality as a perversion. Now, I’ve heard about a hundred theories as to why people are homosexual. Doctors say it happened in childhood. Biochemists say it’s all chemicals in the brain.
Militant gays say being gay is good for you, and so forth. In the Coven, you say men are evil beings, and only an evil woman could mate with one.

“I don’t have a theory. I don’t
care
. It just isn’t important to me if somebody’s heterosexual or homosexual.

“But it’s important to you. In your mind, you have sinned by having carnal knowledge with a man. You’re a pervert.”

Another fifty steps went by as Robin thought this over. It wasn’t a new thought to her.

“I don’t know if this helps me,” she said, at last.

“I didn’t promise to help. I think your only hope is to look at it objectively. I’ve tried to. What I’ve concluded is that, for reasons I don’t understand, some people are one way and some people are the other. On Earth, with
overwhelming
societal reasons to be heterosexual, there have always been those who are not. In the Coven, it’s like a mirror image. I suspect there might have been a fair number of unhappy women in the Coven. They probably didn’t even know what was making them unhappy. Maybe they dreamed about it. Sinful dreams. But their problem was that—for whatever reason, biological, behavioral, hormonal—they were…well, for want of a better word, they were gay. They’d have been happier with male sex partners. I don’t know if you’re born gay or are made gay—on Earth, or in the Coven. But I think you’re a pervert.”

Robin felt the blood rushing to her face, but did not break stride on the long descent. It was best to have it out.

“You think I have to have a man.”

“It’s not that simple. But something in your personality meshes with something in Conal’s. If he’d been a woman, you’d be the happiest person in Gaea right now. Since he’s a man, you’re one of the most miserable. It’s because you’ve bought the Coven’s big lie, even though you think you’re too adult for all that. There were millions of Earth men and women who bought the Earth cultures’ big lies, and they died just as unhappy as you are now. And I suggest to you that it’s a foolish thing.”

“Yeah, but…damn it, Cirocco, I can see that. I’ve had those thoughts—”

“But you haven’t fought them hard enough.”

“But what about Nova?”

“What about her? If she can’t accept you the way you are, then she isn’t the person you hoped she would be.”

Robin thought about it for many hundred steps.

“She’s grown up,” Cirocco said. “She can make her own decisions.”

“I know that. But—”

“She represents the unforgiving weight of Coven morality.”

“But…can’t I make her get over it?”

“No. I’m not even sure you can help her. But…maybe I shouldn’t say this, but I think time is going to cure your problem. Time, and a Titanide.”

Robin questioned her about that, but Cirocco would say no more.

“So you think I should let Conal move back in?”

“Do you love him?”

“Sometimes I think I do.”

“I don’t know a lot of things for sure, but one thing I’m pretty sure about is that love is the only thing that’s worth much.”

“He makes me happy,” Robin admitted.

“All the better.”

“We’re…very good in bed.”

“Then you’re a fool to be anywhere else. It was good enough for your great-great-great grandmaw. You are descended from a long line of lesbians, but there’s a touch of perversion in your blood.”

Another hundred steps went by, then still another.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” Robin said. “You told me what sin is. What’s evil?”

“Robin…I know it when I see it.”

That was all there was time for, as, to Robin’s surprise, she found herself at the bottom of the Dione stairs.

It was nothing like the other regional brains. Robin had seen three of them: Crius, still loyal to Gaea; Tethys, an enemy; and Thea, one of Gaea’s strongest allies. The twelve regional brains had chosen sides long ago, during the Oceanic Rebellion, when the land itself had become disloyal to Gaea.

It had been Dione’s misfortune to be located between Metis and Iapetus, two of Oceanus’ strongest and most effective supporters. When war came, she was squeezed between the two and mortally wounded. It had taken her a long time to die, but she had been dead now for at least five hundred years.

It was dark at the bottom of the staircase. Their footsteps echoed. The moat surrounding the huge conical tower that had once been Dione was dry. Where Tethys had glowed with a red inner light and had seemed alert and aware even in his utter immobility, Dione was obviously a corpse. Parts of the tower had collapsed. Robin could glimpse a lattice-like internal structure through the gaping holes. When Cirocco’s flashlight fell on it, it threw back a million shattered reflections.

When the flashlight turned the other way, the reflections were only two. The twin gleams were about two meters apart, and came from inside a big, arched tunnel entrance. It looked like a train was sitting just inside.

“Come on out, Nasu,” Cirocco whispered.

Robin’s heart turned over. She fell back through the years, twenty and more…

…to the day when, as a young girl, she had been given the tiny snake, a South American anaconda,
Eunectes murinus
, and selected it as her demon. No cats or crows for Robin; she would have a serpent. She named it Nasu, which someone told her meant “little pig” in some Earth language, after watching it devour six terrified mice in one meal.