Titan

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It was six days after the angel attack, the sixty-fmt day of their emergence in Gaea. Cirocco was prone on a low table with her feet in improvised stirrups. Calvin was down there somewhere, but she refused to watch him. Lullaby, the white-haired Titanije healer, watched and sang as the operation progressed. Her songs were soothing, but nothing helped a great deal.

"The cervix is dilated," Calvin said.

"I'd just as soon not hear about it."

"Sorry." He straightened briefly, and sirocco saw his eyes and forehead above the surgical mask. He was sweating profusely. Lullaby wiped it away and his eyes showed his gratitude. "Can you move that lamp closer?"

Gaby positioned the flickering lamp. it threw huge shadows of her legs onto the walls. Cirocco heard the metallic click of instruments taken from the sterilizing bath, then felt the curette rattle through the speculum.

Calvin had wanted stainless steel instruments, but the Tita nides could not make them. He and Lullaby had worked with the best artisans until he had brass tools he felt he could use.

"It hurts," Cirocco gritted.

"You're hurting her," Gaby explained, as if Calvin could not understand English.

"Gaby, you'll,either be quiet or I'll find someone else to hold the lamp." Cirocco had never heard Calvin speak so harshly. He paused, wiped his brow on his sleeve.

The pain was not intense, but persistent and hard to place, like an ache of the inner car. She could hear and feel the scraping, and it set her teeth on edge.

"I've got it," Calvin said, softly. "Got what? You can see it? "

"Yeah. You're further along than I thought. It's a good thing you insisted we get it done." He resumed his scraping, pausing from time to time to clean the curette.

Gaby turned away to examine something in the palm of her hand. "It's got four legs," she whispered, and started to come to Circocco's side.

"I don't want to see it. Get it away from me."

"May this one look?" Lullaby sang.

"No!" She was fighting nausea, and could not sing the answer to the Titanide but shook her head violently. "Gaby, destroy it. Right now, do you hear me?"

"It's done, Rocky."

Cirocco let out a deep breath that turned into a sob. "I didn't mean to yell at you. Lullaby said she wanted to see it. I probably should have let her. Maybe she'd know what to make of it."

Cirocco protested that she could walk, but Titanide ideas of medicine included much cuddling, body warmth, and songs of reassurance. Lullaby carried her across the dirt street to the quarters the Titanides had given them. She sang the song of support in times of mental anguish while lowering her into a bed. There were two empty ones beside it.

"Welcome to the veterinary hospital," Bill greeted her. She managed a weak smile as Lullaby arranged the covers.

"Your humorous friend cracks jokes again?" Lullaby sang. "Yes, he calls this the place-of-healing-for-animals."

"He should be ashamed. Healing is healing. Drink this, and you will relax."

Cirocco took the wineskin and drank deeply. It burned all the way down and warmth spread through her. The Titanides drank fermented beverages for the same reasons humans did, one of the more pleasant discoveries of the last six days.

"I've got a feeling my wrists were just slapped," Bill said. "I know that tone of voice by now."

"She loves you, Bill, even when you're naughty."

"I was hoping to cheer you up."

"It was an interesting try. Bill, it had four legs."

"Ouch. And me making jokes about animals." He reached across and took her hand.

" It's okay. It's over now, and all I'd like to do is sleep." She took two more deep pulls on the wineskin, and did just that.

Gaby spent the first hour after her operator! telling everyone she felt fine, then she threw up and was feverish for two days. ,August came through with no ill effects at all. Cirocco was sore but healthy.

Bill was doing well in that he was healing but Calvin said the bone had not been set properly.

"So how much longer will it bell, Bill asked. He had asked the question before. There was nothing to read, no television to watch; nothing but the window looking out over a dark street in Titantown. He could not speak to his nurses except in pidgin ditties. Lullaby was learning English, but very slowly.

"At least two more weeks," Calvin said. "I feel like I could walk on it now."

"You probably could, and that's the danger. ltld pop like a dry stick. No, I won't let you up, even on crutches, for another two weeks."

"What about taking him outside?" Cirocco asked. "Would you like to go outside, Bill?"

They took Bill and his bed out the door and a short distance along the street before putting him down beneath one of the ca- nopied trees that made Titantown invisible from the air, and provided the nearest approach to night they had seen since their exploration of the cable base. The Titanides kept their homes and streets lighted all the time.

"Have you seen Gene today?" Cirocco asked. "Depends on what you mean by today," Calvin asked, with a yawn. "You still have my watch."

"But you haven't seen him?"

Calvin shook his head. "Not for a while."

"I wonder what he's been up to."

Calvin had found Gene following the Ophion through steep terrain as it wound its way among the Nemesis Mountains of Crius, the day region just west of Rhea. He said he had emerged in the twilight zone, and had been walking ever since, trying to hook up with the others.

When asked what he'd been doing, all he would say was "surviving." Cirocco didn't doubt that, but wondered just what he incant by it. He brushed off his own experiences in sensory deprivation, saying he had been worried at first but calmed down when he understood the situation.

Cirocco wasn't sure she knew what he meant by that, either. At first she was happy to have someone who seemed as minimally affected as she had been. Gaby still moaned in her sleep. Bill had gaps in his memory, though it was returning slowly. August was chronically depressed and verging on the suicidal. Calvin was happy but wanted to be alone. Only she and Gene seemed relatively unchanged.

But she knew she had been touched by mystery during her stay in the darkness. She could sing to the Titanides. She felt more had happened to Gene than he was talking about, and she began to look for signs of it.

He smiled a lot. He kept assuring everyone he was okay, even when no one asked. He was friendly. Sometimes it was too hearty, but other than that he seemed fine.

She decided to find him and try once more to talk about the missing two months.

She liked Titantown. it was warm under the trees. Since the heat in Gaea came from the ground up, the high vault acted to trap it. It was a dry heat; by wearing a light shirt and no shoes, Cirocco found her body cooled itself at peak efficiency. The streets were pleasantly light ed with paper lantems that reminded her of the Japanese. The ground was hard-packed earth, moistened by things called sprinklerplants that sprayed mist once per revolution. When that happened it smelled like a summer night's light rainfall. Hedges were so crusted with flowers that petals fell from them in a steady rain. They grew quite well in perpetual darkness.

The Titanides had never heard of urban planning. Dwellings were scattered haphazardly on the ground, under the ground, and even in the trees. Roads were informally defined by traffic. There were no signs or named streets, and a map of the town would soon have been covered with corrections as new homes were grown in the middle of the road and pedestrians trarnpled their way through hedges until a new equilibrium was estab- lished.

Everyone had a cheery song of greeting for her. "Hello, Earth monster! Still balanced, I see."

" Oh,look, it's the two-legged oddity. Come and feast with us, Sheer-ah-ko."

"Sorry, folks," she sang. "Got business. Have you seen C- sharp Meistersinger?"

It amused her to translate their songs that way, though in Titanide, monster and oddity held no insult.

But the invitation to feast was a hard one to tum down. After two months of raw meat and bland fruit, the Titanides' food was too good to be true. Their cuisine was their greatest art form, and with a few minor exceptions the humans could eat anything the Titanides could eat.

She found the building she called City Hall more by luck than design, stopping frequently to ask directions. (First left, second right, then around the ... no, that was blocked last kilorev, wasn't it?) The Titanides understood the layout, but she didn't think she ever would.

It was City Hall simply because Meistersinger lived there, and he was the Titanides' closest approach to leadership. Actually, he was a warlord, but even that was limited. It was Meistersinger who led the reinforcements on the day of the battle with the angels. Since then, he had behaved like everyone else.

Cirocco had meant to ask if he knew where Gene might he found, but it was not necessary. Gene was already there.

"Rocky, so glad you could drop by," he said, getting up and putting his arm over her shoulder. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, which annoyed her.

"Me and Meistersinger were just talking over a couple things you might be interested in."

"You were... you can speak to them?"

"His phrasing is atrocious," Meistersinger sang, in the difficult aeolian mode, "in the manner of the Crian peoples. His voice will not settle decently, and his ear is more suited to the... shall we say unmodulated words of your own pipes. But we can sing together, after a fashion."

"I heard some of that," Gene sang, laughing. "Thinks he can talk over my head, like spelling words in front of a baby."

"Why didn't you tell me this before, Gene?" she asked, searching his eyes.

"I didn't think it was important," he said, waving it off. "I got a dose of what you got, but it didn't take so well."

"I just wish you'd told me, that's all."

"I'm sorry, okay?" He seemed irritated, and she wondered if he had meant her to know. Surely he didn't think he could have concealed it much longer.

"Gene has been telling me many interesting things," Meistersinger sang. "He has made lines all over my table, but they make little sense to me. I would understand, and pray that your superior song might clear away the darkness."

"Yeah, Rocky, you take a shot. I can't get this dumb son-of-a- donkey to see it."

Cirocco glanced sharply at him, relaxed when she recalled Melstersinger knew no English. She still thought it bad mannered and childish. The Titanide was anything but stupid.

Meistersinger was kneeling beside one of the low tables the Titanides preferred. He had dull orange fur a few centimeters long, with only his face hare. The skin was chocolate brown. His eyes were light gray, set in a face that had at first seemed identi- cal for Titanides, but now seemed to Cirocco to have as many variations as human faces. She could now tell one from another without reference to coloring.

But the face was still a female one. She could not shake that cultural conditioning, even when the penis was visible.

Gene had used skin paint to draw a map on Mcistersinger's table. Two parallel lines ran east and west, and other lines cut the space between into rectangles. it was the inner rim of Gaea, spread out and seen from above.

"Here's Hyperion," he said, jabbing with a paint-reddened finger. "On the west, Occanus, on the cast... what did you call it?"

"Rhea. "

"Right. Then comes Crius. There's support cables nunning here, here, and here. Titanides live in east Hyperion, and west Crius. But there are no angels in Rhea. Do you know why, Rocky? Because they live in the spokes."

"What's this about, anyway?"

"Bear with me. Make him understand, will you?"

She did her best. After several attempts, he looked interested and put one orange-nailed finger near a dot in west Hyperion.

"This, then, would be the great stairway to heaven near the village?"

"Yes, and Titantown is next to it."

Meistersinger frowned. "Why do I see it not?"

"I got that," Gene said, in English. "'Cause I've drawed it not," he sang. With a flourish, he made another dot beside the larger one.

"How will these lines-kill all of the angels?" Meistersinger asked.

Gene turned to Cirocco. "Did he ask why I'm drawing all this?"

"No, he asked what this has to do with killing angels, and I'd like to add a question of my own, which is, what in hell are you doing? I forbid you to go on with this discussion. We can't aid either side of two warring nations. Didn't you read the Geneva Contact Protocols?"

Gene was silent for a moment, looking away from her. When he looked back, he spoke quietly.

"Don't you remember that slaughter, or did you really miss it all? They got wiped out, Rocky. Fifteen of these jackasses jumped. All but one died, and so did two more that were with you. The angels lost two, plus one wounded."

"Three. You didn't see what happened to the third." It still made her sick to think of it.

"Whatever. The thing is, it was a new tactic. The angels hitched a ride on top of the blimp. At first we thought the angels had made an alliance with the blimps, but it turns out the blimps are upset, too. They're neutrals. The angels got aboard during a storm, so the blimp thought the extra weight was just water. He gains a couple tons when it rains."

"What's all this 'we' stuff? Are you making an alliance? You don't have that power. I do, as ship's Captain."

"Maybe I should point out that your ship is gone." If he had meant to wound her, his aim could not have been better. She cleared her throat, and went on. "Gene, we're not here as military advisors."

"Hell, I just thought I'd show them a, few things. Like this map. You can't plan strategy without a map. Theyll need some new tactics, too, but-~"

Meistersinger made the high whistle that served as a throatclearing sound. Cirocco realized they had been ignoring him.

"Pardon me," he sang. "This drawing is a fine thing indeed. I will have it painted on my chest at the next tricity jamboree. But we were speaking of ways to kill angels. I would be pleased to hear more of the gray powder of violence you mentioned earlier."

"Je-zus, Gene!" Cirocco exploded, then controlled her voice. "Meistersinger. My friend, whose command of your songs is poor, must have expressed himself badly. I know of no such powder."

Meistersinger's eyes were bland pools. "If not the gray powder, then speak to me of the device for hurling spears into the air farther than the hand can throw."

"Again, you must have misunderstood. Bear with me for a moment longer, please." She turned to Gene, trying for a calm front. "Gene, get out. I'll talk to you later."

"Rocky, all I want to do is --"

"That's an order, Gene." He hesitated. She was trained in hand combat and had the longer reach, but he was trained, too, and had more strength. She was far from sure she could beat him, but got ready to try.

The moment passed. Gene relaxed, then slammed his palm on the table and stalked from the room. Mcistersinger had followed it with eyes that missed nothing.

"I'm sorry if I caused bad feeling to flow between you and your friend," the Titanide sang.

"It was not your fault." Her hands were cold now that the confrontation was over. "I ... see here, Mcistersinger," she sang in equals mode. "Which did you believe? Me, or Gene?"

"Face it, Rah-kee, you looked like you had something to hide."

Cirocco chewed a knuckle while wondering what to do. The Titanide was sure she was lying, but how much did he already know?

"You're right," she sang at last. "We have a powder of violence, strong enough to destroy this entire town. We know secrets of destruction that I am ashamed to even hint at ;things that could blow a hole in your world and leak the air you breathe into cold space."

"We need nothing like that," Meistersinger sang looking interested. "The powder will do nicely."

"I can't give it to you. We brought none with us."

The Titanide had obviously considered his song carefully when he finally sang again.

"Your friend Gene thought it possible to make these things. We are clever with wood, and the chemistry of living things."

Cirocco sighed. "He's probably right. But we cannot give you the secrets."

Meistersinger was silent.

"My own personal feelings have little to do with the matter," she explained. "Those who are above me, the wise ones of my kind, have said this should he so."

Meistersinger shrugged. "If your elders command it, you have little choice."

"I'm glad you see it that way."

"Yes." He paused, again choosing his song carefully.

"Your friend Gene is not so respectful of his elders. If I asked him again, he might tell me things that I need for victory."

Her heart sank, but she tried not to let him see.

"Gene was forgetful. He had a difficult time in his journey; his thoughts wandered, but now I have reminded him of his duty."

"I see." He pondered again, offering her a glass of wine, which she drank gratefully.

"I believe I myself could construct a launcher of spears. A flexible stick, ends tied together with a thong."

"Frankly, I'm surprised you don't have it already. You have much more complex things."

"We do have something like it which children use for games. "

"The nature of your war with the angels puzzles me. Why do you fight?"

Meistersinger frowned. "Because they are angels."

"There's no other reason? I had been impressed with your tolerance of other races. You feel no animosity for me and my friends, or the blimps, or the yeti in Oceanus."

"They are angels," he repeated. "You don't wish to live in the same land?"

"Angels would be unable to suckle their young at Gaea's breast if they left the great towers. And we could not live clinging to the walls."

"So you don't compete for land or food. Could the reason be religious? Do they worship another God?"

He laughed. "Worship? You put your song together oddly. There is only one Goddess, even to the angels. Gaea is known to all races within her."

"Then I just don't understand. Could you make me see? Why do you fight? "

Meistersinger the warlord thought for a long time. When he at last sang, it was in a mournful minor key.

"Of all the things in this life, that is the me I would most like to ask Gaea. That we must all die and return to mud- I have no objections, no bitterness. That the world is a circle and winds blow when Caea breathes-these are things I understand. That there are times when one must go hungry, or when the mighty Ophion is swallowed in dust, or the cold wind from the west freezes us-these things I accept, as I doubt I could do a better job with these matters. Gaea has many lands to tend, and at times must turn her gaze elsewhere. "

"When the great pillars of the sky snap, such that the ground trembles and one fears the world will come apart and fling herself into the void, I do not complain. "

"But at the time of Gaea's breath, when the hate is upon me, I reason no more. I lead my people into battle, knowing not that my own hinddaughter falls at my side. I knew it not. She was a stranger to me because the sky was filled with angels and it was time to fight. It is only later when the rage lifts from us that we count the cost. It is then the mother finds her child slain on the field. It was then I found the daughter of my flesh wounded by angels but trampled by the feet of her own people. "

"This was five breaths ago. My heart grew sick, and I feu it will never heal."

Cirocco dared not break the silence as Meistersinger turned from her. He stood and walked to the door, faced the darkness while Cirocco watched the candle flicker on the table. He made sounds that were certainly the sounds of weeping, though they did not sound like human weeping. After a time, he came back to her and sat, looking very tired.

"We fight when the rage takes us. We do not stop lighting until the angels are all dead or gone back to their home."

"You speak of Gaea's breath. I am a stranger to it."

"You have heard it wailing. It is a raging gale from the heavenly towers; cold from the west and hot from the east."

"Have you ever tried to talk to the angels? Will they not listen to your song?"

He shrugged again. "Who can sing to an angel, and what angel would listen?"

"I'm still bothered that no one has tried ... to negotiate with them." That word was difficult. The one she finally settled on meant "surrender," or "turn tail" in a literal sense. "If you could sit down and hear each other's songs, perhaps you could have peace."

His brow wrinkled. "How can there be the feeling-of-harmony-among siblings when they are angels?" The word he used was the same one Cirocco had picked as the best of an inadequate lot. "Peace" among Titanides was a universal condition, hardly worth comment. Between Titanides and angels, peace was a concept the language could not embrace.

"My people have no enemies of other races, but fight among ourselves," Cirocco said. "We have evolved ways of resolving these conflicts "

"This is not a problem for us. We deal well with hostility among our own kind.,,

"Maybe you could teach us about that. But for my part, I could wish that I might show you the ways We have learned. Sometimes both parties are too hostile to sit down and talk. In that case, we use a third party to sit between the enemies."

He raised one eyebrow, then lowered them both suspiciously. "If this works, why do you have need of so many weapons?"

She had to smile. it was not easy to put something over on the Titanides.

"Because it doesn't always work. Then our warriors try to destroy each other. But our weapons have grown so fearsome that no one has used them in a long time. We have become better at peace, and I offer as proof that while having been able to destroy our entire planet for at least ... make it sixty myriareys, we have not done so."

"That is the blink of an eye as Gaea turns," he sang.

"I'm not bragging. It is a terrible thing to live with the knowledge that not only your ... your hindmother and friends and neighbors can be wiped out, but every one of your kind down to the smallest stripling."

Meistersinger nodded gravely, looking impressed.

"It is up to you. Our kind can offer you more war, or the possibility of peace."

"I see that," he sang preoccupied. "It is a grave decision to make."

Cirocco decided to shut up. Meistersinger knew it was within his power to learn of the weaponry Gene offered to give.

The candle in the wall holder guttered to darkness; only the one between them survived to cast dancing light across his feminine features.

"Where could I find this one to stand in the middle? It seems to me that such a one would be hit by spears thrown from both sides."

Cirocco spread her hands. "I am willing to offer my services as an authorized representative of the United Nations."

Meistersinger studied her. "Meaning no disrespect to the you-nigh-ted-naish-uns, we have never heard of them. Why would they be interested in our wars?

"The United Nations is always interested in wars. Frankly, they are no better than we are as a whole, which is to say far from perfect."

He shrugged, as if he had assumed that from the start. "Why would you do this for us?"

"I'm going through the territory of the angels anyway, on my way to see Gaea. And I hate war."

For the first time Meistersinger looked impressed. It was plain that his opinion of her had gone up significantly.

"You did not say you were a pilgrim. This puts a new light on matters. I fear you are a fool but it is a holy foolishness." He reached across the table and took her head in his big hands, leaned over, and kissed her forehead. it was the most ritualistic thing she had seen a Titanide do, and it touched her.

"Go, then," he said. "I will think no more of new weapons. Things are fearsome enough, without taking a road that must lead to destruction. "

He paused, seeming to draw in on himself.

"If by some happenstance you should actually see Gaea, I wish you would ask her for me why my hinddaughter had to die. If she will not answer you, slap her face and tell her it's from Meistersinger. "

"I'll do that." She got up, strangely exhilarated, somehow less worried about the future than she had been in two months. She started to leave, but was curious about something,

"What was the kiss for?" she asked. He looked up.

"It was the kiss for the dead. When you leave, I will never see you again."