Six Moon Dance Part 30

"You said they came to the edge of the camp, sometimes?"

"Not the ones that stayed by the pond, no. The ones that come to the camp are more like Crawly than anything. People like Rogger the Rock. And Black Cliff. And Hughy Huge. Back on Thor, they were muscle men, always on the body machines. Big guys, strong as bulls, and that pond made 'em more so than ever. And they've grown since. Oh, I tell you, they're just mountains of muscle. They don't talk much anymore, they just roll over everything, like it wasn't even there. That's why we built camp where we did, down in that hot pot, so they can't get down into it and roll over us all."

"Why?" asked Bane. "Why would they roll over you?"

"Oh, they still get mad, sometimes. When we take the towns, we'll use 'em all. Talk 'em up. Use real short words...."

They sat silent for a long moment. Bane asked, "So. We goin' on, or what?"

Ashes merely sat, staring at the sky, indecisively musing aloud, as though he had forgotten they were there.

"Web could be right. I did know about Foot's shoes, back on Thor. I just hadn't thought of it for a few hundred years. And Tongue, well, he had some dirty habits, too. And it makes me remember when we were in that pond ... the thing was ... Well, you ever see one of those joke mirrors, the ones that're all curvy, make you look like you had wobbly legs? In that pond, it was like looking into one of those mirrors. Being outside, looking in. Looking at what I was, moving a little, making this bigger, that smaller, you know how you do. And when I came out, I was what I am now because that's what I always thought I was. Even the whip, I'd always had one, not a real one, but in my mind. They used to say that about me, old Ash, he can take the skin off. Old Ash, he can turn you raw. Well, I could." He giggled, very lightly, a strange, quavery sound. "I did. All of us did what was natural to us. You can't do that, what can you do, huh?"

Dyre started to answer, but Bane caught him, keeping him quiet, letting Ashes talk. He'd already said more than they'd heard him say before, and over the last few days, Bane had decided he needed to know everything there was to know about all this.

Ashes kicked his horse into motion, saying, "But those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds on Thor, when this one or that one got skinned or tromped on or rolled over, they weren't man enough to take it or fight it, either one. Had to run to daddy this or uncle that and complain about us. We weren't orderly orderly enough. We used up the women, we didn't accept the enough. We used up the women, we didn't accept the dis discipline. Discipline, hah!" He giggled again, that high, quavering giggle. "They had one thing right, though, we did go through the women. It was getting hard to keep 'em in supply."

He turned toward his sons, his face alight with malice. "Trouble was, the good ones were stupid and the bad ones were rotten. Like Marool. If they're bad enough to be interesting, they're not good enough to use. Not fit to live, right?"

This time Dyre spoke before Bane could stop him. "What did Pete grow into?"

"Pete? Old Petey. He came out of that pond considerably enlarged, and last time I saw him, sitting in the mouth of that cave, he had a piggy as long as old Crawly. He just sat there, looking at it, keeping it from getting sunburned. If it's grown into the mountain, it must be sizeable by now." Abruptly, he kneed his horse onto the trail, riding in the direction Webwings had come. "Be good to see old Pete again!"

Behind him, Bane looked at his brother in terrible surmise, fighting down the urge to feel himself to make sure he was still the same size he had been that morning.

"I know one thing," mumbled Dyre. "I know I don't want to go near that pond."

With some difficulty, Bane summoned up his usual jeering manner. "Don't want a big piggy, huh?"

Dyre moved onto the path, following his father, head hanging. Bane rode up beside him, reaching out to touch him, only to have his hand shaken off.

"Look, we need to decide something," Bane whispered, reaching across to rein Dyre's horse, letting some distance grow between them and Ashes's receding figure. "I don't like all this much. He's talking funny. He's riding west for no reason at all, so far as I can see. And another thing, Webwings ..."

"He flew back to camp."

"Well, he said he was going to, but not long ago, I looked up, and there he was, headed west again. And he said the others were headed this way, too. Like all of them headed off like this, no reason, just going. Like ... well, like some of those Old Earth creatures we learned about, going off on migrations, no reason, just going because their insides told them to, maybe right over the cliff into the ocean! I'm getting the idea all this sons of thunder business may not be what we're really after, you know?"

"How you gonna get away from him?" asked Dyre, nodding at the figure ahead of them. "Him and his whip."

Bane shrugged. "He keeps drifting off. Maybe we can get him to get shut of us. Just let us go. That Questioner thing came down in a shuttle, and the shuttle's still there, outside Sendoph. If this world is going to fall apart, like everybody says, I'd just as soon get a ride to someplace else."

"You can't fly a shuttle." Dyre laughed derisively. "You can't even fly a kite."

"The shuttle's got a crew, crotchbrain. Maybe we could get a few of the ... the people at the camp to help us. If any of them stayed there. Maybe Mooly. Some of the halfway normal-looking ones. We take the shuttle, and we fly it to the s.h.i.+p, then we take the s.h.i.+p."

"Yeah, but the way he talks, the way we smell, I mean, what's the point? If we can't get any women?"

"We had women," Bane declared. "Stupid! At House Genevois, we had women. Not as many as pretty boy Mouche, but some. And they didn't die, either. So Madame knows how to handle the smell bit. All we have to do is grab her and take her somewhere and make her tell us. We can do that before we leave."

They heard a call, looked up to see that Ashes had stopped and was glaring back at them, beckoning.

"Later," said Bane, spurring his horse. "You keep your mouth shut. But later ... we'll talk about it some more."

49.

Sailing the Pillared Sea.

On the s.h.i.+p, the Timmys retreated to an open-sided cabin at the rear of the deck while the Corojum explained the skills of the underground sailor. There were neither compa.s.s nor stars. Everything was either black or luminescent, and the only landmarks were the great pillars that loomed, dark and featureless, from the wavering yellow-green sea into the vaulted blue-green sky.

"Except," said the Corojum, pointing with a huge bony finger, "for the luminous lichen that grows on each face in signs that Kaorugi has set there."

"It's like blazing a trail," Ornery whispered to Mouche. "I read about that, something people used to do in forests, before they had locators. You'd chop a chip out of the tree, leaving a white blaze that you could see on your way back."

"Except these trees have about a hundred different blazes," muttered Mouche. This kind of sailing had never entered into his fantasy, among a forest of pillars on luminous water with a steady breeze blowing from behind them. Still, he knew the ropes and the knots, he could feel the sense of the simple rigging.

"Now," said the Corojum in a pedagogical manner, "you must understand that this journey we are about to make is the journey of Quaggima."

"Quaggima!" exclaimed the Questioner, turning from her position at the railing. "Quaggima?"

The Corojum quashed her with an imperative gesture. "Please, you must not interrupt, or we will not be in time. This is the story of Quaggima." His voice soared in a brief phrase, trilling at the end. "That is, 'Quaggida, stronger one sings.' Correct? You learned song as young beings."

"Yes," murmured Mouche. "Ornery and I, I guess we did. Not just those words, but yes."

"It is the Timmys' duty to teach the songs and dances of being to all creatures. For that reason they came to your first ones and all of your people since, no matter how you treated them or killed them or prevented their dancing. Now, at the beginning of the voyage, we sing first line to remind us of the sign, then we look for that sign. Quaggida is winged mouth, or mouth that sings." He leaned on the railing of the s.h.i.+p and pointed to one of the row of pillars they were approaching. After a moment's concentration, they could see that it bore a winged and fanged circle.

"See long teeth in circle, for Quaggida has teeth of fire. See bright bar to left? That means we must come so close as this, to see the sign, then turn to just pa.s.s it on the left! Quickly, be ready to change sails."

Obligingly, Mouche and Ornery were ready, and at Corojum's word, they set the sails to take them just past the left side of the pillar. Mouche, thinking it out, decided that changing sails at a certain distance from the pillar was important, as it set the direction for the next tack, though it was imprecise at best. The Timmys looked up but made no effort to help them. Evidently this voyage was to be tutorial in nature.

"As you learn the way, do not forget the pa.s.s sign," murmured the Corojum. "You must come this close to pillar, read sign, then pa.s.s the pillar on the correct side."

"So the pa.s.s sign is on the left, and we pa.s.s it on the left," muttered Ornery, concentrating on the approaching pillar.

They pa.s.sed it sedately, not with any great speed. The wind was enough to move them, but not enough to speed them through the glowing water.

"Next line," demanded the Corojum.

"Somewhere among the dimmer galaxies," said the Questioner, promptly.

"Sign is spiral of galaxy," said the Corojum, a frown in his voice. "But song must be sung, not spoken."

"Sorry," said Questioner. "Just as an item of interest, how do you know galaxies are spiral?"

"Not all are," answered the Corojum, "but Kaorugi learned that many are. Please, interruptions are very bad idea."

"Sorry," she said again, lifting her eyebrows and grinning covertly at herself.

Mouche and Ornery finally saw a cl.u.s.ter of dim dots which, when they came closer yet, became the image of a central disc and several spiraling arms. The pa.s.s bar was again to the left.

"Change sail now," demanded the Corojum, then, as they were pa.s.sing the pillar on the left, it said imperatively, "Next line."

This time, as though to forestall the Questioner, the Timmys burst into impa.s.sioned song.

"... Doree a Quaggima t'im umdoror/Au, Corojumi, tim d'dom z'na t'tapor-" The song cut off, as though with a knife.

"Which is to say," a.s.serted the Corojum, "... Luring the weaker-one that strong-one will seize!/Oh, Corojumi, weaker-one comes without awareness....' Sign is same as Quaggida, but without teeth. Winged circle, for mouth that sings, and beneath, egg shape to show this is weaker or smaller one."

They seemed to go a very long way before the next pillar came into sight before them, a little to their right.

"Pa.s.s bar to the right," cried Mouche.

"So, go to right," murmured the Corojum.

Nothing more was said until they had pa.s.sed the pillar on the right, at which point the Timmys burst into song once more.

"Bofusdiaga! Embai t'im umd'dol/zan'ahsal diza didom...."

Again the Corojum translated. "... Bofusdiaga! From deep dark strong one flings/fiery loops that make a snare...."

"Next sign is a loop," said the Corojum. "Like a noose."

They pa.s.sed pillars that bore other signs, wave forms, squares, triangles, four yellow circles with green dots in the center. "The Eiger," said the Corojum, pointing this one out to them. "Four eyes, the Eiger, but that is someone else's voyage."

Finally, the loop came into view, a sign like a hangman's noose. As they pa.s.sed it, the Timmys sang sadly: "... ersh tim' elol lai ..."

"For weaker one's bright wings," said COrojum.

"So the last sign for that verse will be wings again, right?" asked Mouche. "With an egg, to show it's what you call the weaker one."

"Correct," said the Corojum, hugging Mouche's leg. "You learn quickly."

"Why am I hungry?" asked Mouche.

"Because it is half a day since we had food," answered the Corojum. "Next pillar we will stop. Six verses to the song, each at least half a day's sail, even in the old days, when there were many to set the sails and sing the song, time was the same."

"How far ..." Mouche started to ask.

"Hush," said Ornery, grinning. "It's as far as it takes."

"I merely wondered," Mouche said between his teeth, "whether we might not be traveling around and around in here, like in a maze, before we get out. How do we know this is the most direct route?"

"Oh, it is not," cried the Corojum. "No, no. Why would anyone come to sea of Kaorugi to take direct route? Dance voyages are for thinking, for planning, for learning. During voyage, we recalled the reason for dance. Also on this voyage, when there were many Corojumi, we talked of dance, remembering it in all its details. We decided who would dance which part, and who would make singing and music and when it would start. We spoke of moons and their power, and when that power approached at last, we were ready to go down into chasm, where dance must be done."

They went wordlessly on, until the next pillar was reached, at which point they lowered the sails, and lay rocking slowly to and fro while the Timmys brought them large, s.h.i.+ny leaves spread with an a.s.sortment of fruits and breads, traditional, so said the Corojum, to this voyage alone.

The Questioner left the railing, found what looked to be a hatch cover, and sat down upon it.

"Come," she said to the Corojum. "I have withheld my own questions, we all have. But now, while we have our lunch, surely questions can be asked and answered. The dance must be done, you say, but you are the only one left, and you do not remember the dance."

"Only a tiny piece," said Corojum sadly. "I remember the Timmys a.s.sembling. I remember a tiny, early part of the dance, and then standing upon the rim of the abyss singing. Some Timmys remember some, some Joggiwagga, some others. And Bofusdiaga remembers only the song, for Bofusdiaga left it all to us!"

"Then let us start with what we have," said Questioner, beckoning Mouche and Ornery to sit beside her. "Now. Tell us about the dance."

The Corojum said, "The dance. So, long ago the Quaggima was caught, you know, the song says."

"I saw her," said Questioner. "Lying on an outer planet. I thought she was dead."

"Not dead." The Corojumi shook his head sadly. "Not dead, but very ... wounded. Maimed? These Quaggida, when they mate, they lure weaker-one with their song, they capture them, but while mating, they almost kill weaker-ones. That one is left on the far-off mating place, all alone, while the egg grows inside.

"Then, when the egg has grown too big for Quaggima to keep it warm, Quaggima searches for womb fires. A warm place, you know? It is instinct. No one taught Quaggima, Quaggima merely knows. So, here in this world, closer to sun, were womb fires. Timmys, sing verse of falling!"

Their voices came from the aft deck: "Quaggima it calls: Out of starfield coming, fire womb seeking Fire it finds, rock wallowing, fume reeking Oh, Corojumi, opener of s.p.a.ce Bofusdiaga, burrower of walls It has need of birthing place Wheeoo, it falls."

The Corojum nodded. "Quaggima did not really call us by our names. Kaorugi heard Quaggima calling: 'Oh, opener of s.p.a.ce. Oh, burrower of walls.' In our language, openers of s.p.a.ce are Corojumi-for this is a dancing matter-and burrower of walls is Bofusdiaga, so we used those names in our song. It was Kaorugi who heard the calling, and Kaorugi said to us, you Corojumi, you are openers of s.p.a.ce. And you, great Bofusdiaga, you are a burrower of walls, so you will be openers and burrowers for Quaggima as well. So, we opened s.p.a.ce, and Quaggima fell."

"Here?" asked Questioner, wanting to be quite sure. "To this planet?"

"Here. Inward, toward sun, intercepting us."

"How did Kaorugi know what Quaggima said?"

"Kaorugi perceives meaning, over much, long time. Yes. Timmys, sing next verse!"

"Quaggima it cries: I plant one living egg where womb fires are.

See how starflesh suffers! see wings char!

Bofusdiaga, singer of the sun, Oh, Corojumi, dancers of bright skies It has done and I have done I cannot rise."

Corojum nodded. "We did not know how big was Quaggima. We made too small a place. When Quaggima fell, it made far deeper chasm. All Quaggima's wings were torn and burned. Egg was laid there, beneath Quaggima's body, where stone is hot and steams rise, and egg sank down, into stone. What Quaggima said was true, it could not rise. It did not have wings to fly, like a bird-thing, only wings to soar, like a kite. And Kaorugi perceived it and felt pity and great interest and told us to care for Quaggima. Timmys, next to last verse!"

"Quaggima despairs Driven against desire to fall and sp.a.w.n Now loving death and longing to be gone Oh, Bofusdiaga, death defying!

Oh, blessed Corojumi, who repair!

The Quaggima is dying, Take it in care."

"Kaorugi said, 'We do not know who Quaggima means when it sings about mender and death defier, we do not know where such creatures are or if they are listening, but we we are here and are here and we we are listening, so we will become mender and death defier! We will stop pain, we will repair, and my creatures shall be death defier and caretaker to Quaggima.' And it has been so, for Kaorugi said it. Kaorugi said, 'You, my offshoot, Bofusdiaga, you be breaker of shackles and limitations. You be singer of sun, maker of mirrors, who will not allow stone walls to keep out the light. And you, you Corojumi, you create the dance, you repair the broken, you focus bright skies upon Quaggima.' " are listening, so we will become mender and death defier! We will stop pain, we will repair, and my creatures shall be death defier and caretaker to Quaggima.' And it has been so, for Kaorugi said it. Kaorugi said, 'You, my offshoot, Bofusdiaga, you be breaker of shackles and limitations. You be singer of sun, maker of mirrors, who will not allow stone walls to keep out the light. And you, you Corojumi, you create the dance, you repair the broken, you focus bright skies upon Quaggima.' "

"Very commendable behavior," commented the Questioner. "Does Kaorugi always say 'we'?"

"When Kaorugi means self and parts of self. We are all parts of Kaorugi and do Kaorugi's will. When Kaorugi says we, Kaorugi means all."