Capitol

AND WHAT WILL WE DO TOMORROW?

GLENDOWER: I can call spirits from the vasty deep.

HOTSPUR: Why, so can I, or so can any man; but will they come when you do call for them?

-- Henry IV part I, 3:1

Of all the people on Capitol, only Mother was allowed to awaken on her own bed, the bed where she had slept with Selvock Gray before his death eight hundred years ago. She did not know that the original bed had fallen apart centuries ago; it was always remade, right down to the nicks and scratches, so that she could awaken on it and lie there for a monient in solitude, remembering.

No attendants murmuring. No flush of fever. Of all the people in Capitol, only Mother was given the delicate combination of drugs that made waking a delight-- that cost more for each of her wakings than the entire budget of a colony ship.

And so she luxuriated in the bed, cool and not feeling particularly old. How old am I? she wondered, and decided that she was probably forty. I am probably middle-aged, she said, and spread out her legs until they touched both sides of the bed.

She ran her hands over her naked stomach, finding it not as flat and firm as it had been when Selvock had come to visit Jerry Crove and had, as an afterthought, seduced his fifteen-year-old granddaughter. But who had seduced whom? Selvock never knew it, but Mother had chosen him as the man most likely to accomplish what her grandfather was too good and her father too weak to accomplish-- the conquest and unification of the human race.

It was my dream, she mid to herself. My dream, that I needed Selvock to fulfil. He bloodied himself in a dozen planetside wars, sent fleets here and there at his command, but it was I who made the plans, I who set the wheels in motion, I who fired the starships and sent them on their way. I found the money by bribing, blackmailing, and assassination.

And then, on the day Selvock was confident of victory, that bastard Russian had shot him with (of all things!) a pistol and Mother was alone.

She lay naked on the bed, remembering the feel of his hand on her flesh, the tense, gentle hand, and she missed him. She missed him, but hadn't needed him after all. For now she ruled the human universe, and there was nothing she wanted that she could not have.

Dent Harbock sat in the control room, watching the monitor. Mother was playing with herself on the bed. If the people could only see a holo of this show! he thought. There'd be a revolution within the hour.

Or maybe not. Maybe they really did think of her as-- what had Nab called her? --an earth mother, a figure of fertility. If she was so fertile, how come no children?

Nab walked into the control room. "How's the old bitch doing?"

"Dreaming of conquest. How come she never had any children?"

"If you believe in a god, thank it for that. As it is, things are comfortable. The only royalty in the universe is a middle-aged woman we only have to wake up one day in every five years. No family squabbles. No war of succession. And nobody trying to tell the government what to do."

Dent laughed.

"Better start the music. We have a busy schedule."

The music started and Mother was startled into alertness. Ah, yes. It was time. Being empress wasn't all luxury and pleasant memories. It was also responsibility. There was work to be done.

I'm lazy, now that I'm at the pinnacle of power, she said to herself. But I must keep the wheels turning. I must know what is going on.

She got up and dressed in the simple tunic she had always worn.

"Is she really going to wear that?"

"It was the style when she ruled actively. A lot of heavy sleepers do that-- it keeps a touch of familiarity around them."

"But, Nab, it makes her look like a relic of the pleistocene."

"It keeps her happy. We want her to be happy."

The first item of business was the reports. The ministers had to make the reports personally, and the new ministers who had been appointed since her last waking were on trial as she talked to them. The minister of fleets, the minister of armies, and the minister of peace were first. From them she learned about the war.

"With whom," she said, "are we at war?"

"We aren't at war," said the minister of armies innocently.

"Your budget has doubled, sir, and the number of conscripts is also more than twice what it was yesterday. That's a lot of change for five years. And don't give me any merde about inflation. Whom, my dear friends, are we fighting?"

They glanced at each other, fury barely concealed. It was the minister of fleets who answered, affecting contempt for his fellows. "We didn't want to bother you with it. It's just a border conflict. The governor of Sedgway rebelled awhile ago, and he's managed to attract some support. We'll have it under control in a few years."

She sneered. "Some minister of fleets you are. How do you get something under control in a few years when it takes twenty or thirty years to get from here to there even in our lightships?"

The minister of fleets had nothing to say. The minister of armies intervened. "We meant, of course, a few years after the fleets' arrival."

"Just a border conflict? Then why double the army?"

"It wasn't that large before."

"I conquered-- my husband conquered the known galaxy with a tenth as many soldiers as you have, sir. We considered it a rather large force. I think you're lying to me, gentlemen. I think you're trying to hide the fact that this war is more serious than you thought."

They protested. But even their doctored-up figures couldn't hide the truth from her.

Nab laughed. "I told them not to lie. Everyone thinks he can outwit a middle-aged woman who sleeps most of the time, but the bitch is far too clever for them. Wager you five that she fires them."

"Can she do that?"

"She can. And does. It's the only power left to her-- and these fools who think they can make their reports without following my advice always end up losing their jobs."

Dent looked puzzled. "But, Nab, when she fires them, why don't they just stay on the job and send assistants to her?"

"It was tried once, before you were born, my boy. She was able to discover in only three questions th the assistant wasn't used to giving orders like a minister; it took only three questions more to know she had been defrauded. She ordered the poor who tried to fool her brought into her chamber, and she sentenced both him and his assistant to death for treason."

"You're joking."

"To tell you how much of a joke it was, it took two hours to convince her that she ought not to shoot them herself. She kept insisting that she was going make sure it was done right."

"What happened to them?"

"They were dropped from high somec levels and sent out to administer sectors on nearby planets.'

"Couldn't even stay on Capitol?"

"She insisted."

"But then-- then she does rule!"

"Like hell she does."

The minister of colonization was next to last. He was new in his job, and frightened to death. He, at least, had believed Nab's warnings.

"Good morning," he said.

"Who are you trying to impress? One thing I hate is cheerful morning greetings. Sit down. Give me your report."

His hand was trembling when he gave her the report. She read it, quickly but thoroughly, dnd turned to him with an eyebrow raised. "Who thought of this cockamamy scheme?"

"Well--" he began.

"Well? What's well?"

"It's a continuing program."

"Continuing?"

"I thought you knew about this from prior reports."

"I do know about it. A unique way of handling war. Outcolonize the bastards. Great plan. It hasn't shown up on any reports until now, fool! Now, who thought of it!"

"I really don't know," he said miserably.

She laughed. "What a prize you are. A cabinet full of ninnies, and you are the worst. Who told you about the program?"

He looked uncomfortable. "The assistant minister of colonization, Mother."

"Name?"

"Doon. Abner Doon."

"Get out of here and tell the chancellor I want to meet this Abner Doon."

The minister of colonization got up and left.

Mother stayed in her chair, looking gloomily at the walls. Things were slipping out of her control.

She could feel it. Last waking there had bait little hints. A touch of smugness. This time they had tried to lie to her several times.

They needed shaking up. I'll shake them up, she decided. And if it's necessary, I'll stay awake two days. Or even a week. The thought was exhilarating. To stay awake for days at a time-- the prospect was exciting.

"Bring me a girl," she said. "A girl about sixteen. I need to talk to someone who will understand."

"Your cue, Hannah," Dent said. Hannah looked nervous. "Don't worry, kid. She's nota pervert or anything. She just wants to talk. Just remember, like Nab said, don't lie. Don't lie about anything."

"Hurry up. She's waiting," Nab interrupted.

The girl left the control room and passed through the hall to the door. She knocked softly.

"Come in," Mother said gently. "Come in."

The girl was lovely, her hair red and sweet and long, her manner confused and shy.

"Come here, girl. What's your name?"

"Hannah."

And they began to converse. A strange conversation, to Hannah, who knew only the gossip of the younger members of uppercrust Capitol society. The middle-aged woman kept insisting on reminiscing, and Hannah didn't know what to say. Soon, however, she realized that there was no need to say much at all. She had only to hear, and occasionally express interest.

And after a while the interest did not have to be feigned. Mother was a relic of an earlier time, a strange time when there were trees on Capitol and the planet was named Crove.

"Are you a virgin?" asked Mother.

Don't lie, Hannah remembered. "No."

"Whom did you give it up to?"

What does it matter? She doesn't know him. "An artist. His name is Fritz."

"Is he good?"

"Everything he does is beautiful. His pieces sell for--"

"I meant in bed."

Hannah blushed. "It was just the once. I wasn't very good. He was kind."

"Kind!" Mother snorted. "Kind. Who asks a man to be kind?"

"I do," Hannah said defiantly.

"A man who is kind is in control of himself, my dear. You wasted a golden opportunity. I gave my virginity to Selvock. Ancient history to you, girl, but it wasn't all that long ago to me. I was a calculating little bitch even then. I knew that whoever I gave it to would be in my debt. And when I saw Selvock Gray I knew immediately that he was the man I wanted to have owe me.

"I took him out riding horses. You don't know horses, there aren't any on Capitol anymore, more's the pity. After a few kilometers I made him take off the saddles so we could ride bareback. And after a few kilometers more I made him take off his clothes and I took off mine. There's nothing like riding a horse bareback, in the nude. And then-- I can't believe I did this-- I forced my horse to trot. Men don't enjoy trotting even when they have stirrups, but without stirrups and without clothes, the trotting was agony for dear Selvock. Damn near castrated the poor man. But he was too proud to say anything. Just gripped the horse, turning white with every jolt. And finally I gave in and let the horse run full out.

"Like flying. And every movement of the horse's muscles under your crotch is like a lover. When we stopped we were covered with horse sweat-- but he was so aroused he couldn't stand it and he took me in the gravel on the edge of a cliff. There were cliffs on Crove then. I wasn't very good, being a novice, but I knew what I was doing. I'd got him so hot he didn't notice I wasn't helping him much. And I bled all over the place. Very impressive. He was incredibly gentle with me. Led the horses so I could ride sideways, and we found our clothes and made love again before we went home. He never left me. Found plenty of women, of course, but he always came back to me."

It was an incredible world, to Hannah, where one could mount an animal and ride for kilometers without meeting anyone, and have sex on a cliff.

"Didn't the gravel hurt? Isn't gravel little rocks?"

"Hurt like hell. I was picking stones out of my back for days!" Mother laughed. "You gave yourself too easily. You could have held out for more."

Hannah looked wistful. "There aren't any conquerors available these days."

"Don't fool yourself, girl. Hannah, I mean. There are more conquerors than you know."

And they talked for another hour, and then Mother remembered there was work to do, and sent the girl away.

"Good job, Hannah. Like a trouper."

"It wasn't bad," the girl said. "I like her."

"She's a nice old lady," Dent laughed.

"She is," Hannah said defensively.

Nab looked her in the eye. "She's personally murdered more than a score of men. And arranged for the deaths of hundreds of others. Not counting wars."

Hannah looked angry. "Then they deserved to die!"

He smiled. "She still weaves the old webs, doesn't she? She caught you well. It doesn't matter. You're on somec now, three years early. Enjoy yourself. Only one woman in every five years gets to meet Mother. And you can't tell anyone about it."

"I know," she said. And then, inexplicably, she cried. Perhaps because she had come to love Mother in that hour of conversation. Or perhaps because there were no horses for her to ride, and herfirst time had been in her parents' bedroom when they were' away for an evening. Stolen, not freely taken in sunlight on a cliff. She wondered what it was like to be at a cliff. She imagined standing on one, looking down. But it was so far below her. Meters and meters down. In her imagination she shied away. Cliffs were for ancient times.

"So you are Abner Doon."

He nodded. His hand did not tremble. He merely looked at her steadily. His eyes looked deep. She was a little disturbed. She was not used to being looked at so easily. She could almost imagine that his gaze was friendly.

"I understand you thought of the clever plan to colonize planets behind the enemy's holdings."

Abner smiled. "It seemed more productive than wiping out the human race."

"A war fought by outbuilding the enemy. I must say, the idea is novel." She leaned her head against her hand, wondering why she didn't want to go to the attack with this man. Perhaps because she liked him. But she knew herself better than that, knew that she hadn't attacked because she wasn't yet sure where his weakness was. "Tell me, Abner, how extensive the enemy's holdings are."

"About a third of the settled planets," Doon answered.

Dent was startled, then furious. "He told her! He just told her! The chancellor's going to have his head."

Nab only smiled. "No one's going to have his head. I don't know how he figured it out, but he and that girl, Hannah-- they both understand the bitch. The rule is be accurate, even when you lie."

"He's undoing everything!"

"No, Dent. The other ministers undid themselves. Why should he shoot himself down along with them? The shrimp is smarter than I thought."

She kept Doon with her for fifteen minutes-- unheard of, when full ministers rarely got an audience of longer than ten. And the chancellor was outside cooling his heels.

"Mr. Doon, how can you bear being so incredibly short?"

Doon was finally taken by surprise, and she felt a small sense of victory.

"Short?" he asked. "Yes, I suppose I am. Well, it isn't anything I have control over. So I don't think about it."

"What do you have control over?"

"The assignments section of the ministry of colonization," he answered.

She laughed. "That isn't a complete list, is it, Mr. Doon?"

He cocked his head. "Do you really want an answer to that?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Doon, I do."

"But I won't give an answer, Mother. Not here."

"Why not?"

"Because there are two men in the control room listening to everything we say and recording everything we do. I'll talk freely to you when there isn't an audience."

"I'll command them to stop listening."

Doon smiled.

"Oh. I see. I may reign, but I don't always rule, is that what you're saying? Well, we'll see about that. Lead me to the control room."

Doon got up, and she followed him out of the room.

"Nab! Nab, he's bringing her here! What do we do?"

"Just act natural, Dent. Try not to throw up on the looper."

The door to the control room opened, and Doon ushered Mother into the room. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," she said.

"Good afternoon, Mother. I'm Nab, and this petrified mass of terror is my assistant, Dent."

"So you're the ones who listen in and answer my every request."

"As much as possible, of course." Nab was the image of confidence.

"Monitors. Television! How quaint!"

"It was decided hololoops wouldn't be appropriate."

"Bullshit, Nab," Mother said sweetly. "This is a looper right here."

"Just for the historical record. No one ever watches it. "

"I'm glad to know how closely I'm observed. I'll be more careful how I arrange my body in the morning." She turned to Doon. "Is there anywhere that we can meet where the birds won't be watching from the trees?"

"Actually," Doon answered, "I have the only place on Crove where the birds do watch from the trees. "

She looked shocked. "Real ones?"

"Complete with droppings. You have to watch where you step."

Her voice was husky with eagerness. "Lead me! Take me there!" And she whirled on Nab and Dent. "And you two. I want this looper out of here. You can listen and you can watch, but there is to be no permanent record. Do you understand?"

Nab agreed pleasantly. "It'll be done before you return."

She sneered at him. "You have no intention of doing it, Nab. Do you think I'm a fool?" And she went out the other door, which Doon was holding open.

When the door swung shut, Dent gagged and retched into a wastebasket. Nab watched unconcernedly. "You haven't learned anything, have you, Dent? She's nothing to be afraid of."

Dent only shook his head and wiped his lips. Stomach acid burned in his sinuses and throat.

"Go get the technicians. We have to hook the looper up somewhere else. And have some phony spots ripped out of the wall, so that workmen will be repairing when they get in. It has to look like the lasers have been removed. Hurry it up, boy!"

Dent stopped at the door. "What are they going to do to this Doon?"

"Nothing. Mother likes him. We'll simply use him to, keep her happy later on. The man's a nonentity. "

Mother could sense Doon's increasing pleasure as they went (under heavy guard) through corridors that had been cleared before them, until finally they were at a door where Doon told the Little Boys to go wait elsewhere.

"This had better be good, Doon," Mother said, knowing from the way he acted that it would be good.

"It'll be worth the walk. Though you used to walk much farther than this in your childhood," he said.

"Kilometers and kilometers," she said. "What a wonderful word. It even sounds like going up hills and down them again. A traveling word. Kilometers. Show me this place Where the birds sing from the trees."

And Doon opened the door.

She walked in briskly, then slowed, then stopped. And after a moment she began walking briskly among the trees, pausing only to strip off her shoes and dig her bare toes into the grass and the dirt. A bird fluttered past her. A breeze spun her hair out like a fan. She laughed.

Laughing, she leaned against a tree, put her hands on the bark, slid down the tree, sat in the grass. The sun shone brightly above her.

"How did you do it? How did you hold this spot of earth? When I last touched ground like this, I was twenty, and it was one of the few parks left on Capitol!"

"It isn't real," Doon,answered. "The trees and birds and grass are real enough, of course, but the sky is a dome and the sun is artificial. It can tan you, though."

"I always freckled. But I said, 'Damn the freckles, I worship the sun!'"

"I know," Doon said. "I tell everyone that this place is modeled after Garden, a planet where they restrict immigration and industry is kept to a minimum. But you know what this place really is."

"Crove," she said. "My grandfather's world! What this planet used to be before it was sheathed in metal like a vast chastity belt, blocking life from this place forever; oh, Doon, whitever it is you want, you can have, only let me come and spend an afternoon here on every waking!"

"I'll be glad to have you come. Only you know what it means."

"But you want something from me, anyway," she said.

He smiled. "Want to swim?"

"You have water?"

"A lake. Crystal clear water. A bit chilly, though."

"Where!"

He led her to the water, and she unhesitatingly took off her clothes and dove in. Doon met her in the middle of the lake, where she floated on her back, looking upward as a cloud passed before the sun.

"I must have died," she said. "This must be heaven."

"You're a believer?" Doon asked.

"Only in myself. We make our own heavens. And I see, Doon, that you have created a good one. Well, Doon, you're the first man I've talked to today who wasn't an utter ass."

"I do not aspire to surpass my superiors."

She chuckled, fanning her hands to propel herself gently in the water. Doon, too, lay on his back in the water, and they heard each other's words through the rushing sound of water in their ears.

"Now the complete list, Mr. Doon," she said. "All the things, you are in control of."

"As I told you," he said. "Part of the ministry of colonialization."

"And?"

"The rest of the ministry. And the rest of the ministries."

"All of them?" she asked,

"Through one means or another. No one knows it, however. I just own the people who own the people who run it. I don't muck with the everyday affairs."

"Good of you. Let them think they're independent. And?"

"And?"

"The rest of the list?"

"That's the list. All the ministries. And the ministries control everything else."

"Not everything. Not somec," she said.

"Oh, yes. The independent, untouchable agency. Only Mother can make the rules for the Sleeproom."

"But you control that, too, don't you?"

"Actually, I had to take it over first. That let me control who woke up when. Very useful. It lets me get rid of people I don't want. I just put them on a lower level of somec, if they're weak, and they die out very soon. Or I put them on a higher level of somec, if they're strong, and they aren't around often enough to bother me."

"You rule my empire, then?"

"I do," Doon answered.

"Have you brought me here to kill me?"

Doon swung over and treaded water, looking at her in alarm. "You don't believe that, do you?" he, asked. "I'd never do that, Mother, never. I've admired you too much. I've modeled my life on yours. The way you controlled the empire from the start, and everyone thought it was your husband, Selvock, the poor stud."

"He wasn't much of a stud," Mother mused. "He never fathered a child on anyone."

"No, Mother. You're the only person in the world, though, who could stop me. And I knew that sooner or later you'd realize who I was and what I was doing. I've looked forward to this meeting."

"Really? I haven't."

"No?" Doon broke into a crawl stroke and made his way to shore. Not long afterward, Mother followed, to find him lying on the grass.

"You're right," she said. "I have looked forward to meeting you. The thief who would take it all away from me."

"Not at all," Doon said. "Not a thief. Just your heir."

"I plan to live forever," she said.

"And if I have my way, you shall."

"But you don't want just to own my empire, Doon. You don't want to just inherit."

"Consider this a springboard. If you hadn't built this empire, I should have had to. But since it's built, I shall tear it up and use the building blocks to make something better."

"Better than this?" she asked.

"Can't you smell the decay? Nothing is alive on this planet. Not the people. Not the atmosphere, not the rock, nothing, it's all dead, all going nowhere. The whole empire's like that. I'm going to kick it into gear again."

"Kick it into gear!" she giggled. "That was archaic when I was a girl!"

"I study old things," Doon answered. "Old things are the only things that are new anymore. You were great. You built a beautiful thing."

She was happy. The sun was beating down on her for the first time in decades (centuries, actually, but since she hadn't lived the years, she didn't feel them); she had swum in fresh water; and she had met a man who just might be, just might perhaps be her equal.

"What do you want me to do? Make you chancellor? Marry you?"

Doon said no, none of those things. "Just let me go on. Don't challenge me. Don't force my hand. I need a few more centuries. And then it'll all break loose."

"I could still stop you," she said.

"I know it," he answered. "But I'm asking you not to. Nobody was in a position to stop you. I'm asking for my chance."

"You'll have your chance. In return for one favor."

"And that is?"

"When you make your move and everything, as you put it, breaks loose-- take me with you."

"Do you mean it?"

"There'll be no use for Mother in the universe you're making, Abner."

"But there'll be room for Rachel Crove?"

The name struck her like a hammer. No one had called her by her given name since-- since-- And she was a girl again, and a man who was her equal, or nearly so, lay naked beside her, and she reached over and put her arms around him, whispering, "Take me with you. Take me."

He did.

They lay in the grass as the sun set, and she felt more fulfilled than she had since a day on a cliff in Crove when she had begun her career of conquests. Only this time she had been conquered, and she knew it, and she was willing.

"On every waking," she said, "you must tell me your plans. You must show me what you're building, and let me watch."

"I will," he said. "But you can't make any suggestions."

"I wouldn't dream of it. That would be cheating, wouldn't it?"

"You aren't very good at sex," Doon said.

"Neither are you," she answered, laughing. "Who gives a damn?"

Mother did not come back until half an hour before her grand entrance at tke Mother's Waking Party, the highest high society event in Capitol. Nab was distraught.

"Mother, Mother, what a worry you've caused us!"

She only looked at him slantwise, and frowned. "I was in good company. Were you?"

Nab glanced at Dent. "Only second rate, I'm afraid.

Dent laughed nervously.

Mother growled at him. "Can't you even get a little angry, boy? It's so damned boring when everybody tries to be nice. Well, the party's already underway, right? So what am I wearing this time?"

They brought her the dress, and seven women wrapped her in it. She was startled that her nipples showed. "This is really the fashion?"

Nab shook his head. "It's a bit more modest than most. But I thought that perhaps the image you need to present--"

"Modest? Me?" She laughed and laughed. "Oh, this is the best waking in years. Best in years, Nab. You can stay on, but fire the boy. Find an assistant with more gumption. The boy's an ass. And send the chancellor to me."

The chancellor came in, bowing and uttering apologies about the poor status of the reports this waking.

"Everybody's trying to lie to me," she said. "Fire them all. Except, of course, for the minister of colonization. And his assistant. The two of them impressed me. Leave them in. And as for you, I don't want to have another lie in a report again. Understand? Or if you must lie, at least contrive to do it well. None of these could have fooled a five-year-old child."

"I'll never lie to you, Mother."

"I know perfectly well that I'm empress in name only, boy, so don't patronize me. You'd just better make sure that I don't get reminded of it by the sloppy work the cabinet does. Understand?"

"I understand."

"And that assistant minister of colonization. He was refreshing. I want him awake and ready to meet with me again next waking. And leave him in his job. Doubtless a sinecure, but he's sweet."

The chancellor nodded.

"Now give me your arm. To hell with the schedule. We're going down to the party."

Nab watched her go.

"Am I really fired?" Dent asked.

"Yes, boy. I warned you. Act natural. Too bad. You showed some promise."

"But what'll I do?"

Alb shrugged. "They always have good jobs for the people Mother fires. You don't have to worry."

"I want to kill her."

"Why? She did you a favor. Now you won't have to watch her act important every waking. The bitch. Wish she'd sleep for ten years."

Dent was surprised. "You really hate her, don't you?"

"Hate her? I suppose so." And Nab turned away. "Get on out, Dent. If she sees you here again, she'll fire me, too."

Dent left, and Nab went to the files and cursed the next poor fool who would make a stab at satisfying Mother. He had to have an assistant. An assistant's stupidity always made Nab look better.

Do I hate her, Nab wondered.

He couldn't decide. He only remembered watching her in the morning, as she lay nude on the bed. It wasn't hate he felt then.

The party was long and boring, as all the others had been, but Mother knew the importance of being visible. She had to be seen at every waking, on a set day, or someone could make her disappear and no one would notice. So she circulated, and graciously met the young girls who were just getting to somec, and the fops and fags who hung about the court, and the old men and women who had first met her a few centuries ago when they were young.

She was a reproach to them all. No matter how high a somec level they achieved, she was higher. No matter how many centuries passed before they got old, they would never live to see her get older. I will live forever, she reminded herself.

But as she watched the people who actually believed this party was important, the thought of living forever made her very tired. "I'm tired," she said to the chancellor, and he immediately waved a signal to someone and the orchestra struck up some stirring music from aeons ago (this was old when I was a child, she thought) and the guests lined up and for an hour she bade good-bye to all of them and finally they were gone.

"It's over," she sighed. "Thank heaven." And then she went upstairs to the room where workmen had obviously been knocking up the walls. Pretending to take the hololoop equipment out, she decided, and was amused that they thought she could be so easily fooled. That fellow Nab-- a sharp one. A total bastard, too. The best kind of person to deal with. He'd be around for quite a while.

She sat on the edge of her bed and brushed her hair, not because it needed it but because she was in the mood for it. It felt good. She watched herself in the large mirror, and noticed proudly that she didn't yet sag. That she was still, though not young, desirable. I'm a match for Doon, she said to herself. I'm still a match for any Man, and more than a match for most. I've played their games and won them, and if I'm just a figurehead now, I'm a figurehead they have to be careful with. And Doon-- an ally. He was with her. She could trust him.

Or could she?

She lay back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling, where a fresco had been painted, duplicating an ancient one that had long since fallen to pieces on earth. A nude man was reaching up to touch the finger of God. She knew it was God, because he was the most terrible creature on the ceiling, and that had to be God. I was that, she thought. I was the builder, I was touching fingers and bringing things to life. And now Doon is doing that. Can there be room for two of us?

I'll make room, she decided. He'll never feel threatened by me. Because he might win, and that would be terrible, and it would be more terrible if I won, because I'm lazy and finished and he's just starting. Let us be allies, then, and I'll trust him and he'll trust me, and I can see something new in the universe. A creation that, perhaps, will be better than mine.

"Was that what you hoped for?" she asked the bearded man on the ceiling. "Someone to top you? Or did you snick them all down to size whenever they got too big?" She remembered a story about people who built a tower to get to the stars. God stopped it, as she recalled. Well, we finally got to the stars anyway, but you had moved out by then, making space for us.

I'll move out, making space for Doon. But he'd damn well better not forget me.

"The bitch is asleep, Crayn. Call the Sleeproom people."

The new assistant, a nervous girl that would never last, Nab knew, called the Sleeproom people and they moved quickly but silently into the room, taping Mother's brain and then putting her under somec.

When Mother was under, Nab came out into the room.

"Give me the tape," he said, and they gave it to him because he always sealed it away in a special vault. And then they wheeled her out to put her in her coffin in a private sleeproom in a different part of Capitol from most others. With the tightest security.

But Nab still held her mind in his hands. She had slept with Doon, he knew. What the shrimp had, he didn't know, but she had slept with him, had liked him a lot, had asked to see him next time. And he had her tape. There was nothing to stop him from accideittly destroying it, was there? And then she'd wake up not knowing anything about this waking. They'd have to use the old tape, the one they had used this time.

It shouldn't be hard to erase, he thought, and he took the tape into the control room. "Go home, Crayn," he said. "I'll close up."

"What a day," Crayn said as she left.

The door closed, and Nab found the loop eraser. It would work just as well on a braintape. He would have done it, too, if a needle hadn't fired just then and killed him.

Mother's Little Boys took the body out and disposed of it, and Mother's braintape was put into safekeeping by those who would never harm it. A close one. But how had Abner Doon known Nab would do that? The man was an octopus, a finger everywhere. But that was why Mother's Little Boys obeyed him. He was never wrong.

Mother had not been asleep when the braintapers came. But she lay their limply, accepting their ministrations.

Today I met my successor and the first man I let make love to me besides Selvock. Today I fired most of the cabinet because they were fools and cheats. Today I stepped back into Crove the way it used to be when it was still beautiful.

Today passed with more variety than yesterday, or three weeks ago, or eight months ago.

Eight months ago. It was only eight months, only a thousand years ago that she had decided to go on somec at this level and live forever. She had noticed her first age wrinkle that day, and realized that she could, after all, get old. So she had decided to skim through time, only touching often enough to see if there was something worth living to experience.

Today she had found it.

And what, she wondered, will we do tomorrow?