Luna gave them fare for a commercial rocket flight to another city. While they waited for the taxi carpet to arrive. Vita went out to give each griffin a farewell hug, then came inside to do the same for Muir, who put up with this in gentlemanly fashion though it evidently wasn't his idea of fun. Orlene then embraced Aunt Luna. In her life she had known none of her blood ancestry; now it was sustaining her in death.
The carpet arrived, and Jolie took over, because she knew where they were going. "Rocketport," she announced, and it sailed up, carrying them away. Jolie looked back and waved to Luna, feeling sentiment herself. She had known Luna for many years, and liked her, but this was the first time in mortal guise, and it had a special impact. The considerations of food and lodging and physical protection loomed far more important in the living state. Living was so physical'. In a few days she had come to a much more acute appreciation of the woman's qualities. Luna was very like Gaea, who had been her sister-cousin Orb, but significantly different too. She seemed older, because she had aged normally while Gaea hadn't, but that wasn't it. She was in many respects what Gaea would have been had she remained mortal, and that was a precious insight.
She was also like Orlene in her former life: quite attractive, and sensitive to the feelings of others. Jolie knew that she had seen Orlene in her worst stage, that of emaciation, death, horror and despair. But she remembered how petite and lovely she had been in her life and happiness, and how nice. Now those qualities were returning, though she was in a different body; Vita was becoming pretty in the ways that Orlene had been. Luna showed how Orlene would be in later life, and that was attractive too.
I really regret having died, Orlene thought. I acted hastily and thoughtlessly. Only now that it is too late do I appreciate what continuing life had to offer.
"Perhaps I should have told you your heritage," Jolie said. "I tried to avoid interfering in your life, other than watching you and being your dream-friend, and now I regret that."
Had I known, I might have acted quite differently, Orlene agreed. But I cannot blame you for leaving me my freedom to find my own way.
Vita did not chip in. She was dreaming of Roque.
The carpet arrived at the rocketport. They entered at ground level and rode the carpeted belts to the interior ticket counter. Then they took the old-fashioned escalator to the launching area at the roof.
The rocket was sitting there in its harness. Jets of steam hissed from nozzles, making it seem like a monstrous hot dragon. A ramp led up to a tiny mouth in its base.
Vita took an interest. Science is so scary! she commented.
Jolie could not argue. Back in her days of life, science had been relatively backward, while magic, for some few practitioners, had been advanced. But she had to admit that science had its place; it nicely complimented magic as a way of getting things done. Both had their liabilities, of course, but that was a concomitant of power.
They rode the ramp up to the mouth and into the maw of the monster. Inside it was like a small, cramped building, much higher than wide. A moving ladder hauled them up to their berth, about midway along the length of the rocket.
A harness awaited them there. Just like the big one! Vita thought.
"For different reason," Jolie explained. "The big harness holds the ship vertical and above the building, so that no actual landing field is necessary and there is room for the rocket jets to flow. Our small harness is to hold us in place for the pressures of the takeoff and landing. Springs allow it to give way, cushioning the worst of the acceleration. This will be a short, violent hop."
That's my kind of trip, the girl agreed.
They got into the harness and clamped it on around arms, legs and torso. There was a brace for the neck, and a helmet to hold the head secure.
In due course there was a shrill warning beep. Then the rocket took off. First they felt the rising power of its jet, causing the entire vessel to shudder. Then the motion commenced, slow at first, but rapidly accelerating.
Hooo! Vita thought, feeling their jaw, breasts, and stomach sag with the abrupt increase in weight.
A vision screen came on, showing a fisheye-lens view of the outside. They were rising, the building and surrounding city of Kilvarough dropping down. In moments they had a panoramic view of the region.
I like Mortis better. Vita announced.
Neither Orlene nor Jolie cared to argue with that.
The rocket blast cut off. Their harness bounced up, its springs recovering their compactness. They were in freefall.
Wheee! Vita thought.
But in a moment the rocket spun about, its business end pointing forward. Then the blast resumed, just as if they were still rising. But now they were slowing and descending, as the screen showed. The rocket was efficient, which meant the ride was short.
"I would have preferred a modern saucer," Jolie said. "They are as fast, but they use antigravity instead of jet propulsion, so are a lot easier to ride, I understand. Of course, as a ghost I never had occasion to ride one."
Maybe on the way back! Vita thought eagerly. She loved experience of any kind.
The ship backed down to its rocketport and dropped into its harness. The safe-to-debark gong sounded. They got out of their harness and waited for a vacant slot on the moving ladder. Naturally, all the other passengers were trying to leave at once, so they had to wait some time.
A slot appeared. Jolie grabbed a rung and swung her feet across. She glanced up and found herself peering up the skirt of another woman. It was foolish to wear such clothing to travel!
Then she looked down and spied the man below looking up her skirt. Ouch!
They should make men wear skirts. Vita thought.
Orlene, silent so far, caught that and went into a mental giggle. Jolie tried to contain it, but a peep leaked out. "Maybe we can get Luna to pass a law," she murmured between suppressed heaves. "But who would want to look at that?"
That, of course, was the problem: turnabout was not fair play, because women had little interest in looking at men the way men looked at women. Life was inherently unfair.
No it isn't. Vita thought. It gives us power, because we've got what they want.
At the bottom they let go and rode the ramp out and down. At the roof of the rocketport they transferred to the express escalator, which took them down at a slant to the main door. They had no baggage, so beat most of the crowd out.
The taxi carpets were lined up. Jolie took the first one. "Mock Hell," she said.
Soon they were there: at the megabuilding devoted to the follies of damnation. Satan had set it up decades ago as an exhibit, in an attempt to show mortals that Hell was really a fun place. This had been successful, and it had become a major tourist attraction. People of all ages flocked to sample evils that were not encouraged elsewhere.
Jolie walked through the gambling den, where the customer always won. Piles of silver and gold coins abounded. Sure looks like fun! Vita thought.
"Wait till you see the next level!" Jolie replied. She was, of course, long familiar with this setup; it was an excellent initial sorting place for potential evil. Satan got early warning here of forthcoming clients.
The next level was devoted to gluttony: clients were stuffing themselves with all manner of pastries and confections and tasty beverages. Ooooo! Vita thought.
Jolie approached one of the chefs. "May I borrow your glasses a moment?"
"We don't let clients—" he began.
"Pierre, don't you know me?" she asked, extending her ghost face in front of the host face.
He did a double-take. "Of course. Mistress of Satan!" he agreed hastily, extending his glasses.
Jolie put them on. They were not prescription lenses, but magic spectacles, and what they showed was a spectacle indeed: the reality behind the fostered illusion. The clients were eating garbage, literally, and drinking reeking sewer dip. For this privilege they were paying not with money, but with percentages of their souls. They were committing themselves to Hell by stages, for pleasures which were no more genuine than those of sin itself.
Ugh! Vita thought, her gorge rising.
Jolie quickly removed the glasses, as it was she who would vomit if this went too far. "The wages of sin are garbage," she said, returning the glasses. "Thank yea, Pierre; this client is not going to Hell anyway."
"I don't know why Satan keeps company with the likes of you!" Pierre said, smiling.
"There's an ineradicable bit of good in the worst of us," she responded. "His bit of good relates to me. But don't worry; I happen to know that he's having an affair with an Incarnation."
"But that's even more extreme!" Pierre protested. "She's bound to be good!"
"But think of how far he can drag her toward evil!"
He nodded, seeing the point. Jolie walked on.
Is Satan really—? Vita asked, her interest quickening.
"He really is," Jolie said. "It's a terrific scandal."
Gee, she thought, awed. Who—?
"Oh, I wouldn't blab her name to just anyone."
You're teasing me!
Jolie laughed. "I am, dear! But see, we're here." For they had come to the Infernal Elevator, which served as a convenient conduit between Purgatory, the mortal realm, and Hell. This was what she had been headed for all along.
She touched the entry panel, again extending her ghostly identity. The panel recognized it, for she had free access to all Satan's works, in any form, if she could handle them. It slid aside and the steamy interior of the Hellevator showed.
She stepped in. "Purgatory," she said.
The panel slid across again. Flames erupted from the edges of the floor. The elevator moved up in a cloud of smoke which somehow didn't choke. It was mostly illusion, to provide the proper flavor for an artifact of the nether region.
This is more like it! Vita thought enthusiastically. Where else does this crate go?
"It connects everything except Heaven," Jolie said. "For some reason, Satan couldn't get God's permission to put a stop there."
Fancy that, Orlene thought dryly.
"Something you should keep in mind about the supernatural realms, Vita," Jolie said. "They are not quite like the mortal one. They are not actually physical, they are two dimensional, and cannot normally be detected or interacted with by living mortals. But to those in them, they seem three or four dimensional, and therefore solid. The folk there will seem alive, but they are not; all are spirits except the Incarnations, who are of neither the natural or supernatural realms. The folk of Purgatory don't need to eat or sleep, and anything we eat there will not sustain us. Only by special dispensation can mortals enter any of the supernatural realms."
How come this elevator is taking us there, then?
"It is really a mechanism for translation," Jolie explained. "The Incarnations don't need translation, but your body does. We seem to be rising, but we are instead changing, becoming two dimensional. Such a process represents a strain on the system, so is seldom authorized. But because I am close to an Incarnation, I am allowed to do this, and I am taking your physical body to Purgatory. While there I will never depart from your body, for that would leave you there without authority, which would be extremely awkward. I will turn the body over to Orlene for the duration, for this is her quest. You may observe and comment, but you will not be put in charge."
Yeah, I can see why. I won't pester you for anything.
"And Orlene—are you going to be able to handle an encounter with your lover, in his new role?"
I have no choice, Orlene replied grimly.
The Hellevator flamed up again and stopped. The panel slid aside. They were at the fringe of Purgatory, its seemingly natural landscape opening out before them.
Jolie stepped out. Behind her the device disappeared in another dramatic gout of flame and smoke, leaving only a brooding funeral. Ahead was a path leading windingly toward a mansion in the distance. "That is Chronos' residence," Jolie said. "It will take us at least an hour to reach it, and we won't hurry; in fact we may be best advised to take a nap before we start."
No, I am ready to tackle this now, Orlene thought.
"You misunderstand. It is not your courage in question, but the nature of the structure. Time runs backwards within it. You will thus emerge before you enter. Rather than meet yourself and get fouled up, it is better to allow sufficient time around the edges, before and after, so that you are not put in difficulty. We can proceed with a series of scheduled pauses, during which we sleep or at least pay no attention to what is around us, so that whoever may pass before us knows what times and places to avoid."
This is crazy! Vita thought.
I don't care about any of that, Orlene thought. I just want to get there and explain about the time Thanatos used on my behalf, and beg for a grain of sand.
"But this man was your lover!"
Her what? Vita asked. Did I miss something juicy when I wasn't paying attention?
I will apologize to him for leaving him as I did. I see no reason to delay; it will only erode my nerve.
"As you wish," Jolie said, realizing that one way might be as good as another, and if not, that the woman simply had to go her own route. She released the host body to her.
Orlene took over and began walking briskly toward the castle. Jolie realized, belatedly, that the last time they had been to Purgatory, on their way to see an Incarnation, Orlene had become a man and horribly embarrassed herself; she could be nervous about such experience and want to get through as quickly as possible.
Because this was Purgatory, the body did not tire. Orlene, discovering this, picked up her pace, and soon she was almost running. Thus it was that she reached the castle in half the time Jolie had estimated. Flushed with nervousness rather than exertion, she lifted the ornate door knocker and let it fall.
In a moment a butler opened the door. "And who may I announce to Chronos?" he inquired.
"Just a supplicant for a favor."
"Please wait in the foyer."
She entered and waited, while the butler departed for the interior. There was a scenic mural on the wall that looked almost real enough for her to walk into. The furniture was comfortable, and the floor was polished hardwood. You're right. Vita thought. This seems awfully real and solid!
Don't be deceived; its reality is on a different plane from that of the living host.
The butler returned. "Chronos will see you now."
She followed the man to the main chamber. Her breath caught in her throat. There stood Norton, exactly as she had known him in life!
He turned and looked at her. "May I ask who you are?"
He did not recognize her—because she wore Vita's body! Her appearance was that of a pretty teenage black girl. "I will tell you—but first let me plead my case. Thanatos took me to see how he drew out souls, and he had to borrow time from you to do it. I hope you will approve this, for I did learn something significant."
"Thanatos was kind to me before I assumed this office," Chronos said. "I have no quarrel with his use of time, and will not question it."
"And—And I am told I need from you one grain of sand from—"
"What?" he asked, astonished and dismayed.
"I—I know it is very valuable, but I really need it. You see, I lost my baby, and the Incarnation of Night told me that I could only cure his malady by getting something from each Incarnation, and—"
"If I knew a way to cure a baby's malady, I would have cured that of my own baby before he died, and so saved his mother, whom I loved. Certainly one grain of sand will not—"
This was getting awkward! She should have told him her identity at the outset. "I know. It was a terrible mistake, and I made it worse. I see you still wear Sning."
He glanced at the ring he wore, which was in the form of a tiny snake curled around the finger. "How could you know about that?" he asked, surprised. "The only one who knows is dead. Not only that—"
"Dead," she agreed. "And trying to save her baby."
He was not a stupid or unperceptive man. "Can it be you, Orlene?" he asked, amazed. "In other form? I mistook you for a mortal!"
"Oh, Norton," she said, her tears starting. "I did not mean to deceive you! I just forgot that you would not know my mortal host, and then I thought I shouldn't try to influence you by—oh, how I wronged you when I died! I didn't think of you at all, just the baby, and if it were possible to undo that evil, believe me I would, but I can't! I loved you, Norton, and love you still, but was blinded by my folly! I can't ask your forgiveness, I can only proffer my apology for what cannot be undone. I shouldn't have come here!"
He came to her as she spoke and took her in his arms. "Have you come to stay with me, Orlene, this time?"
She was taken aback. "Stay—here? Oh, Norton, I cannot! This host is a living girl who must return to the mortal realm. I am here with her, and with Jolie, who is—"
"Ah, Jolie, Satan's consort. I have my differences with Satan, but she is a nice woman."
"Yes. So I'm not here alone, and can't remain."
"But you are a spirit. The mortal girl could return, and Jolie is already a ghost, and you could remain, assuming your natural likeness here. If you do not leave this mansion, the problem of time will not exist, and we can be together for decades, never aging."
Orlene was wildly tempted. This possibility had never occurred to her. To be back with Norton, in seeming life and comfort, indefinitely!
Then she remembered Gaw-Two. "My baby—could he be here too?"
"No. A person can exist here only during the span of his natural life. In thirty-seven years I will fade out and have to pass the Hourglass on to my successor, in mortal terms my predecessor, for I will then be passing beyond the time of my birth. Gaw-Two would come up against his limit in mere days."
"And then have to exist forward," she concluded. "Oh, Norton, I cannot give him up! I do love you, but I love him, too, and his need is greater. I must rid him of that terrible malady of the soul and see him safely on the way to Heaven before I can rest." She felt terribly guilty saying this, but it was the truth.
"But if you could save him, and be with me?"
"Then I would be at peace, and nothing else would matter."
He nodded. "I learned from Sning—the demon ring you gave me—that you were yourself given up for adoption as a baby. I can see that it would be very important for you not to do that to your own baby."
"Yes. I knew I was adopted, but I didn't know my true parentage until after I died. I think it does affect my attitude. I always wanted to be the very best mother I could possibly be, and I still want to, even though my son and I be ghosts. I want my baby to know me, even after death."
Chronos paused, thinking, then came to a decision. "Orlene, I can take you to see your adoption, if you wish. I never went back that far in your life myself, as my concern was to forget you, not enhance my awareness of you, but now I think it would be appropriate. You are younger than I; your adoption will be within my tenure of office. Would you like to see it?"
Orlene was amazed. "I can go see that? But wouldn't there be paradox or something?"
"My activities are normally immune from paradox, a necessary concomitant of the Office. But in this case there will be an extra precaution: we will not be visible or audible to the folk of that time, or able to affect them in any way. We will merely watch."
"Oh, yes, then!" Orlene exclaimed. "I would love to go back to that scene! Even earlier—I would like to see my mother give me away. Can we do that?"
Chronos glanced at his ring, which had been hers, and she knew he was asking Sning and being answered by yes-no squeezes. "Yes, Sning can direct us there; he was present throughout. I will follow his guidance and show you your life from the outset. Take my hand."
She took his hand, feeling strange. They had been lovers, and now she was dead and he was an immortal of a sort, but still there was that love between them. What memories lay in that simple contact of hands!
He lifted his great Hourglass. The fine flowing sand within it changed color, becoming an intense blue. Then he tilted it slightly—and the mansion misted out. There was a flickering, almost too rapid to detect, which she realized was the cycle of days and nights, going backwards, hundreds of them, thousands of them.
Then they were floating across an unfamiliar landscape. Chronos questioned Sning, using a "twenty questions" technique he had evidently refined with practice. "India," he announced. "A traveling circus, or something similar."
"A circus in India?" Orlene asked. "I originated there?"
"So it seems."
Now they came to a caravan of wagons drawn by dragons. Indeed, it was a traveling show! One wagon held a mermaid in a tank, and another a giant serpent, and there were assorted other animals and freaks and performers.
They entered one of the better wagons, which was closed in like a house. There a man and woman lay together, evidently lovers.
"War! Nature!" Chronos exclaimed, astonished.
"What?"
"I recognize these two! He is the Incarnation of War, called Ares or Mars. She is the Incarnation of Nature, called Gaea, when she assumes her natural likeness."
He's right, of course, Jolie thought. They are your natural parents, Orlene.
Orlene stared at the two figures, her emotions churning. These shocks of discovery were coming at her with cruel suddenness! But in a moment she rallied, showing more courage and control than Jolie had seen in her before. She was definitely learning to cope.
"Yes, I learned of this after my death," Orlene said, omitting the crucial detail of the timing of her learning. "But this must be before they became Incarnations."
"I think so, for certainly they are not together now."
"Oh, why did they separate and give me away?" Orlene cried, feeling the pain of it in a way she had not before.
There was a sound of horses, and a commotion outside. The to-be Incarnation of War got up to see what it was—and was met outside by an elaborately garbed officer. "Prince, we have come for you!" the officer called. "The Prince, your brother, is dead."
"He was a prince?" Orlene asked, amazed.
Indeed it turned out to be so. Not only that, he stuttered, avoiding it only by going into a singsong mode of expression. The officer had come to fetch him back, and would not be denied, though the Prince even threatened to behead him. They gave the to-be Incarnation of Nature a bag of precious gems and told her never to seek the Prince again, for the Prince would marry a Princess of his father's choosing.
But before he left, the Prince gave her the ring: Sning. Then he departed—and she fainted.
They carried her into her wagon, and a snake charmer tended to her. When she woke, the snake charmer said, "My dear, you are with child."
"She hadn't known!" Orlene exclaimed. "None of them knew!"
"None of them knew," Chronos agreed, verifying it with the ring. "That child was you."
Guided by Sning, they skipped ahead. The woman, then known as Orb, left the traveling show and went to France, where she settled and hired the service of a blind, maimed, yet beautiful Gypsy girl as a maid. The girl was Tinka, and Orb had known her before; indeed, she had taught Orb the Gypsy language of Calo, and Orb had helped the girl to find a husband, so they were fast friends. They sang together, for Tinka had similar magic, making the music wonderful, and practiced the wicked Gypsy dance the tanana.
Will you look at that! Vita thought. I thought I'd seen some sexy dancing, but that is the granddaddy of sex! God, I wish Roque was here!
Even Jolie herself was impressed. I knew that Satan helped save the Gypsies; now maybe I know why! I never saw a more expressively erotic dance!
The two women visited Tinka's father, the old Gypsy Nicolai, a man of distinction in the town. It seemed that Orb had done his daughter a favor by teaching her how to use her power of music and by making her beautiful despite her truncated fingers and club feet. Nicolai did not forget favors, and now Orb was treated with respect by the villagers. No word of her pregnancy escaped; the Gypsies protected their own from scandal.
Nicolai danced the tanana with his blind daughter, and the impact of the dance was doubled. He was a master, and it showed in his every glance and gesture. I'd give anything to learn that dance! Vita thought. What a man!
Jolie had to agree. There could be art to eroticism, and the tanana was that art, and Nicolai was the master of the dance. He looked to be about sixty years old, but it didn't matter; he was ageless when he danced. He also played the fiddle, beautifully; Orb brought out her little harp and they played together, and it was awe-inspiring.
Chronos skipped ahead again, and the baby was born. Orb was unable to use medication to alleviate the pain, because she had a protective amulet that fought the medicine, but a Gypsy midwife helped her instead with a Spell of Analogy. She gave birth and named the baby as a variant of herself: not Orb, but Orlene.
Soon, advised by the ring. Orb had to leave. Her father was dying, and she had little time to see him. She left the baby with Tinka, with instructions to give her for adoption to a well-to-do tourist family. She removed Sning. "When you find the right family, put this ring on Orlene's finger." She also gave the Gypsy girl a great ruby, from the bag the Prince's people had given her, so that she would never be poor again. Then she left, tearfully.
Tinka took perfect care of the baby. She was married, but her husband spent much time away, so she rejoined her father. Nicolai, evidently remembering Tinka's babyhood, was good with Orlene; he held her and talked with her and sang to her and danced with her, holding her aloft while his feet moved cleverly. The baby loved it; she seldom cried when Nicolai was near.
"This child has magic," he said. "A rare and good talent, fit for a Romani soul! She can see and judge auras."
"He knew!" Chronos exclaimed, astonished. "The glow you can see—he knew, even then!"
Orlene, grown now, watched, the tears streaming down her face. "I always liked dance and music," she said. "Now I know why. I almost remember—that marvelous man—that wonderful, blind Gypsy girl! Surely I saw them glowing brightly and was reassured."
Then the ring guided Tinka to intercept a passing tourist couple. She was blind, but she could get around, especially with Sning's help. She spoke only Calo, while the tourists spoke English, but it didn't matter. She showed them the baby, and they were smitten, and it was done. She put Sning on the baby's finger, where it fit magically well, and departed, trying to hide her tears.
"Oh, Tinka, I didn't know!" Orlene said, watching. "You wanted to keep me and could not!"
Orb returned, as Gaea, and cured her blindness, Jolie thought. And made it possible for her to bear children.
"I'm glad! My life was good; my adoptive parents treated me very well, and I was never in want. But this discovery of the people in my past—how it joys and hurts!"
"I wish I had known this about you," Chronos said. "You were so much more than I guessed. But I loved you regardless, and had I known what was to happen—"
"I acted foolishly," she said. "Orb could not keep me, so she did what she had to and went on. Tinka could not keep me, so she, too, did what was right. But I—when I could not keep my own baby—oh, I failed you, and myself, and all of those who sacrificed so much to give me my good life! I am ashamed!"
"Orlene, you may lack the power to undo the past, but this is a power I now possess. Come with me." He put out his elbow.
Bewildered, excited, she took his arm. With his free hand he lifted the great Hourglass that suddenly appeared. The flowing sand in it turned bright red as he tilted it.
Then they slid through the wall of the room and out of the village, much the way Mortis moved through substance. The flickering came again.
They approached a megabuilding Orlene recognized: it was the one containing Gawain's apartment—the one she had occupied in life, as the wife of the ghost. It had not been long in objective time since she had left it, by dying, but it had been an eternity subjectively.
They came to rest immediately outside her door. "We are in that period when you were gravid," Norton said. "But before Gawain obtained Gaea's gift. You must approach your prior self and warn her of the danger. She will then warn my prior self, who will warn the ghost. That should do it."
"And the malaise will never come upon Gaw-Two!" she exclaimed, suddenly seeing it. "He will not sicken and die, and I will not suicide, and we will be together in life!"
He merely waited.
"Yet I hesitate," she said. "I made such a bad mistake before, I don't want to make another. I must not be hasty. If I do this, and Gaw-Two is saved, and we are happy, what happens to Jolie?"
"Jolie? She merely returns to Satan; she has no problem here."
True, Jolie thought. I would much prefer to see you alive and happy, Orlene! It would relieve me of enormous guilt, and I would not have to tell Gaea how her daughter was lost.
"And Vita—that's the mortal girl, my host—what of her?"
"Why she would return to whatever her life was before you joined her. Probably the two of you would never interact, since you encountered her after you died."
"But Vita was on the street! A— She was subject to the sexual appetites of strange men, and getting hooked on a bad drug. She would most likely have proceeded in a descending spiral to depravity and death if Jolie and I hadn't come to pull her out of it!"
"I am afraid that would be the case."
Roque! Vita thought. You mean I wouldn't meet Roque?
"Oh, Norton, I don't think I can do this!" Orlene said. "I couldn't let that other baby die, when Thanatos took me there, and I can't do this to Vita, who is my friend. There has to be some other way!"
"If you live, what you did in death will not occur," he said. "That cannot be altered. You must live or die, not both."
But you could leave yourself a message! Jolie thought. Vita's address, so you could go and... But she lost it, the ramifications and complications becoming an impenetrable thicket. How could a white stranger with a baby go and rescue a black prostitute in a stupor from H? How could Vita be introduced to Judge Scott and go to live with him? What had been feasible from within hardly seemed so from without!
"And if I live, then what of you?" Orlene continued. "Will you go on to become the Incarnation of Time?"
"And there you have it, Orlene: paradox. I cannot do a thing that changes my own past, in that fashion, for if I did, I would not obtain the Office and therefore could not do that thing. In all other matters I am immune from paradox, but in this one I am not."
"So it is impossible, after all!"
"It is impossible. But I wanted you to understand in your own fashion, so you would not think I was being argumentative or callous. Our relationship is finished, because you must go forward, even as a ghost, and I must live backwards as an Incarnation. Now let me judge your plea on its merits." He lifted the Hourglass again, angling it as the sand turned pink.
They sailed up through the building, ghostlike, and into the sky. Chronos needed no magic elevator for his conversions! Soon they were back in his mansion.
"How did you come to assume this Office?" Orlene asked, partly from curiosity, partly because she wasn't quite ready to discuss the merits of her case.
"After you died, Gawain felt guilty, and he tried to find some better setup for me. He remarried and invited me to impregnate his new wife, but I thought of you and would not. Later he learned of the coming vacancy of this Office and persuaded me to assume it. I admit I was moved by the notion that this might provide me the power to do what we have seen I could not do: change your past and mine so that you would survive. I discovered better, but by that time I was committed. And I admit this is no ill existence. And, lest you feel guilt for depriving me of love life, I am accommodated there too."
"You have a lover?" Orlene asked, relieved but not completely pleased. "Then why did you suggest that I remain here with you?"
"I would prefer your company. I don't love the other woman. She merely accommodates a particular need."
Orlene remembered her experience with the urgency of the need of the male, and could not condemn him. "Who is she?"
"Another Incarnation. Only Incarnations understand."
"An Incarnation? Which one?"
"Fate."
"But Fate's my grandmother!"
"What?"
He doesn't know your ancestry, Jolie reminded her. He just learned of your immediate parentage, as you did, and has not yet made the connection to Lachesis.
"I'm the daughter of Nature and the granddaughter of Fate," Orlene continued. "That's why they sent Jolie to watch me. I didn't know while I lived, but now I do."
Disgruntled, he gazed at her. "Which Aspect?" he asked after a moment.
"Aspect?"
"Fate has three Aspects: Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos, of ascending generations. I believe each originates with a different mortal woman. They share the body, but they are three distinct personalities. Which one is your grandmother—Atropos?"
Lachesis, Jolie prompted.
"Lachesis," Orlene said numbly. She hadn't realized that Fate was so complicated!
"I indulge with Clotho, the youngest," he said, relieved. "Voluptuous, bouncy, midnight-black hair—of course, she can change her form, they all can, but I think that's her rest state."
"What does Lachesis look like?"
"Somewhat like an older edition of Gaea, actually, with light hair—sometimes she buns it up and makes it brown, but, well, it's not far from the shade of yours, really."
"That would be my grandmother," Orlene said, relaxing. She understood how three separate women could share a single body, even when one indulged in sexual relations with a man not of the others' choosing. "It really isn't my business."
He seemed glad enough to let the subject change. "Now, how did you come to encounter Nox?"
"She has Gaw-Two. She took him when he came to Purgatory, and says she will give him to me if I can obtain the items I need to cure his malaise, which remains with him in death because it is of the soul, not the body. From Chronos, one grain of sand, apparently because one soul cannot be transcribed to another without a hitch in time, or something—I don't quite understand it, but am sure that it is so."
"It is so," he agreed. "But you would not be able to use such a grain that way. Time is a tool that only the Incarnation of time can wield. What the sand would actually do is summon me to itself—that is, to its possessor, you—at need, and I would then manage the hitch in time and take back the grain. But this, too, has a complication, At what time do you anticipate this operation?"
Years! Jolie thought, knowing that it well might not be done at all.
"Years hence, I fear."
"Then likely before my tenure. That would explain why the sand is necessary, because I cannot go tangibly beyond my own term of Office. I can go intangibly, and observe certain aspects of reality, but I cannot affect them. If, however, you carry such a grain with you to that time, I will be able to go to it and act in the limited way that relates to its purpose." He paced the floor, considering. "Since I may not commit my predecessor—you would think of him as my successor—to such an action, I think I must give you the grain of sand. I think I would have agreed to do this were you not my lover in life, and the baby not mine, so I can justify it now."
"Thank you, Norton," she said. Again she remembered her brief, horrible experience as a male. Did he expect her to... surely she did owe him that, considering. "Do you wish—"
"Here is the grain," he said abruptly, cutting her off. He touched the Hourglass and the grain appeared on his finger. "Do not lose it. I regret that I have other business now and must ask you to leave."
She took the grain, holding it tightly between thumb and forefinger. It tingled. "I... thank you, Norton."
"Welcome." He ushered her out.
Moments later she stood at the front door, alone, bemused by the suddenness of the conclusion. There is a generous man, Jolie thought.
Yeah, he was really hot for you, but he wouldn't let on, Vita agreed. He just hustled you out before he could give in to it.
"But I would have—if he had let me ask—I owed him so much—"
He didn't want you to buy that grain of sand, or pay for it, Jolie thought. He wanted to give it to you. He did.
"After what I did to him!" she said. "I had no business dying like that! I should have stayed with him and had another baby, but I just—" She choked herself off.
Let's get out of here before we meet you coming in, Jolie thought. She was impressed by Chronos' behavior, but now was not the time to dawdle.
"You do it," Orlene said. "I'm hurting again."
Indeed she was. Jolie resumed control of the body and walked briskly away from the mansion in the direction opposite to the one from which they had approached.
"Tomorrow we can tackle Fate," she said. "But today we had better get established in Satan's residence, so that we have a suitable base for operations."
It was a fair walk, and in this mortal body she was unable to turn a page in the fashion of Gaea to reach her destination instantly, or to fly ghost fashion, so it was afternoon by the time they reached it. Actually, Purgatory did not have days or seasons; time was meaningless here. But they were on Vita's living internal clock, and didn't fight it, thinking of time as they did in the mortal realm.
Satan's domicile, as perceived through their mortal eyes, was impressive, even awesome.
From outside it resembled the most forbidding of castles, with huge stone blocks forming a wall rising to an alarming height, enclosing a cylindrical central turret extending even higher. From the apex extended a pole which branched into a three-tined fork, from which flew a flag with the shape and color of a flame. Outside was a moat on whose surface fire danced, forming fleeting figures of demons who alternately beckoned and made obscene gestures.
Horrible! Orlene thought, though not really shocked.
Great! Vita thought, delighting in naughtiness.
"Isn't it a marvel?" Jolie inquired, pleased. "For centuries Satan's Purgatory residence was unmaintained, and Lucifer's before that, because he had no interest in this region and no undamned souls had interest in contacting him. But when I returned to animation as Gaea's companion, I did not deny my connection to Satan. I couldn't go to Hell on my own, only in her company, because I am not damned, but I wanted to maintain some liaison. So with the permission of the Incarnations of Nature and of Evil, I made a project of renovating the Purgatory Presence in my off moments. I made it a point to include all the classical symbols of the Office. When Satan saw it, he laughed so hard he sank through the ground and disappeared."
They walked the path to the moat. Now the flame figures became quite clear, putting on a show for the visitor. Male flames pursued female flames, caught them, and indulged in vigorous acts of fornication.
Appalling!
I wish Roque were here!
The main entry resembled the mouth of a dragon, gaping wide, as if in expectation of excellent prey. Small flames flickered within its dark maw. "Fresh meat!" Jolie called.
The dragon's mouth opened wider. Smoke billowed out. Then a huge red tongue rolled down to extend across the moat, its tip landing at the brink of the path. The flame figures retreated in alarm, except for one couple still engaged in amour. "Drawbridge," Jolie explained. "I gave it the password."
They crossed the drawbridge and approached the giant, ugly portcullis. It resembled enormous teeth projecting down, syrupy saliva dripping from their polished tips. As they passed under it, the teeth started down—and stopped, well above head height, after giving Orlene and Vita a scare. "Just a little extra fun," Jolie explained. "The mouth can't close without reprogramming, but it can give entrants a bit of a jolt."
Inside, two little demons appeared. One was male, wearing little trousers with a hole in back for his tail to emerge, the other female, with a skirt and a flamelike bow in her hair. "These are Dee and Dee," Jolie said. "Our poster models, for the lascivious recruitment campaign. They're not really demons, merely borderline damned souls who elected to work here. They were experienced; they'd been in Gaming before they died."
Oh, I've seen them! Vita thought. I remember the billboard with him peeking under the skirt of a luscious woman, and the legend "You Won't Find THAT in Heaven!"
"Yes, that has been one of our most popular numbers, dating from before my restored time," Jolie agreed. "And quite true too; God doesn't believe in fornication, once a soul has been Saved, so those who are interested in that sort of thing have to see to it as mortals, or in Hell."
I'm not sure I want to go to Heaven, Vita thought. I mean, bad sex is awful, sure enough, but good sex is great, with the right man. I know Roque's going to Heaven, and if I can't join him there and give him ah even better time than as a mortal, what's the point?
"That's not for the Bride of Satan to say," Jolie said, smiling. They followed Dee and Dee through the castle, getting the introductory tour. There was a central court with a garden of bloodsucking flowers and a pit of fire, with erotic statuary strategically placed. There was an excellent kitchen in which all manner of delicious foods were being prepared. There was a chamber for the storage of wealth, with gold and silver coins piled high, and buckets of gems: faceted diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires of many colors nested in beds of garnets. Pearl necklaces hung on racks, and iridescent opals sat on shelves. "Symbolic of the vices of man," Jolie said. "Gluttony, and greed for money."
But like the stuff in Mock Hell! Vita thought.
"No, actually these jewels are real. But their threat to man's virtue is the same. Wealth is perhaps Satan's most potent tool for the evocation of the evil that lies in mortals. But they cannot take it with them to the Afterlife, while the evil on their souls does indeed go with them. That is the disastrous nature of the choice they make."
You mean the food here isn't garbage?
"It isn't garbage—but it won't sustain your body, either. However, your body can exist for an indefinite time here in Purgatory, in much the way the souls here do; we don't need to eat."
I don't get it. What happens if we do eat here? ' "The danger, if we were going back and forth between Purgatory and the mortal realm, and only ate here, would be in thinking that it was pointless to eat there when all this excellent free food is available here. The body might feel satisfied, but it would be illusion; it would be running out of sustenance while in the mortal realm. So it is better to eschew the food here and eat only when in the mortal realm: that way natural hunger is a good guide." Too bad. Vita thought sadly.
They settled in the family room. "You should find Purgatory video interesting," Jolie remarked as the screen came on. "But it can be disquieting too."
A neutral announcer appeared. "Two ghosts and a mortal woman have taken up temporary residence in Hell's Acres," he said. "One ghost is Jolie, the former wife of the man who later assumed the Office of the Incarnation of Evil: she is unable to visit him in Hell, though it is rumored that she has found a way to get around that restriction. The other is Orlene, who committed the sin of suicide after losing her baby. Her history is becoming more interesting. She seems to be seeking out each Incarnation in turn, beginning with the nebulous Nox, who may have played an unkind prank on her."
What is this? Orlene demanded.
"The Purgatory News Service is always current and personal," Jolie explained. "It relates to whoever is watching it. So when Thanatos relaxes, he gets news of his doings, and when Gaea watches, she receives news others. I have never quite understood its mode of operation, but its targeting is always perfect."
But it didn't mention me. Vita fussed. "As for the mortal, she is Vita," the announcer said immediately. "She is the fifteen-year-old daughter of Vera, a leading researcher for Luna, the central figure in the approaching confrontation between Good and Evil. Raped by her father, she fled home and was driven to prostitution. Her mother was too upset by her unexplained absence to concentrate, so Luna arranged to have the visiting ghosts animate Vita's body and extricate her from a developing drug habit and life of sin. This was only partially successful: she instead became the mistress of a leading local judge, encouraging him to walk in the path of the unrighteous." That's a lie! Vita thought, furious. Roque's a good man! "The threat of scandal caused the judge to expel her from his residence," the announcer continued, unperturbed. "But her hold on him was too great, and the affair continued. It is difficult to tell at this stage how much harm will be done to the judge's reputation, let alone the balance of evil on his soul."
Damn! Damn! Vita thought, rage and pain mixing. I wouldn't hurt Roque for anything! They make it seem so—so sordid!
"Of course, the encouragement of such behavior might have been expected from the Bride of Satan," the announcer said smugly. "But it is a mystery why Orlene, a relatively chaste woman at the time of her death, should—"
Turn it off! Orlene thought.
"You mustn't take it too seriously," Jolie said as the screen went blank. "It speaks from a very moralistic view, because Purgatory is the place of moralism, where borderline souls are sorted for destination. Some of us disagree with this attitude, but it is best to be aware of it."
You're right, Orlene thought after a moment. We should hear it through.
Yeah, Vita thought. We shouldn't let it get to us. It's just twisting things.
Jolie turned the screen on again. "...support such mischief," the announcer continued, picking up precisely where cut off. "Now the three of them have taken the extremely unusual step of coming physically to Purgatory and staying at Hell's Acres. It will be interesting to see what activity they indulge in on the morrow."
Yeah? Well, you'll just have to wait, gossip monger! Vita thought fiercely.
"But we can tune it in to anyone we wish," Jolie said.
"Ozymandias, for instance."
The dour face of the erstwhile King of Kings appeared. "A greeting, Jolie," he said, recognizing her despite her current host. "Satan is out at the moment. May I take a message?"
"We are borrowing Hell's Acres while interviewing Incarnations," Jolie said. "Our next interview will be with Fate, and it could be awkward, because one of her Aspects is Orlene's grandmother. Is there anyone there who could give us good advice?"
He frowned. "This really is not the locale for good advice. However, evil advice is available. Here is the Magician."
A new face appeared on the screen: that of an aging, worn man, the set of whose jaw suggested a determination that mere death had not eclipsed. "Hello, Jolie; do you know me?"
"You're Luna's father!" Jolie exclaimed. "You spent a lifetime opposing Satan, only to finish in Hell! What an irony!"
"I did what I had to do," the Magician said. "Black magic is less limited than white magic, and the task was great, so I knowingly garnered evil on my soul in order to serve the greater good. I succeeded in guaranteeing the continued life of my daughter, so that she will be able to balk Satan's final ploy of this sequence, and I am satisfied to pay the price."
"But all that you did was for the cause of Good! To have you confined to Hell for that—"
"The end does not justify the means. I used unauthorized means. I do not protest my fate."
"I think I'd better put Orlene on," Jolie said. "She was left as a baby, to be adopted by others, and only after her death did she learn of her natural ancestry." She turned the body over to Orlene.
"So you were left as a baby," he remarked, interested. "So was I. It must run in the family."
"Magician, if you are Luna's father, what are you to me?" Orlene asked, flustered.
"I am in a manner your uncle," he replied. "And Luna is in a manner your cousin, despite the differential in your ages. You see, your mother Orb and I had the same mother Niobe, who is now Lachesis, the central Aspect of Fate. Orb and Luna thought of each other as sisters or cousins, but they were of different generations. Orb's parents were Luna's grandparents: Niobe and Pacian. Certainly we are close kin."
"Uncle," Orlene said, fastening on that. "Then you will give me apt advice, though you are damned?"
"I will. What is it you intend to ask of Fate?"
"I need a thread of life, so that my baby's Afterlife can be changed and he will no longer have his malaise."
"You ask for a lot!" the Magician said. "She may be your grandmother, but she will not give you that without excellent reason. You will have to persuade her that it is somehow in me interest of the larger framework to do it."
"But it is only in my personal interest!"
He frowned, thinking. "You ask for this, for your baby? I think she will understand that, having had to leave her own baby and then having seen her daughter leave her baby. You represent the third generation in the family with problems with babies. Perhaps she will be moved." But he did not look confident.
"Thank you. Magician," Orlene said.
"I am glad to have seen you, Orlene, however late."
He clicked off.
The announcer reappeared. "There is an interesting development in the case of Orlene, who it seems is unashamed to contact Hell itself to—"
The screen went blank as Jolie took over the body. "Why don't we retire now? We don't need to sleep here, but we can if we choose, and I think it would help. We may have a big day tomorrow."
The other two agreed.