Being a Green Mother (29 page)

Orb saw that there was a ring on one of his fingers. It looked just like the one Mym had given her: a tiny coiled snake.

“That ring!” she said. “How did you come by it, Chronos?”

He glanced at it, as if startled. “Oh, this charm? It is of demonic nature, but aligned with the forces of good. There are many of them, all very similar.”

“Luna has some,” Thanatos said. “I’m sure she would give you one, if you asked.”

Disgruntled by this revelation of the commonness of a charm she had thought unique, Orb retreated. “No, of course not; I was just curious.” For an instant she had almost had a bad vision of someone stealing the ring from her baby; but of course, that was impossible; the ring could not be stolen or taken by force; it had to be honestly given. Her daughter would keep her ring until reaching the age of discretion; then she could do with it as she chose.

Unless Tinka had not put it on Orlene’s finger, but instead had sold it …

No! Orb knew her friend would never have done such a thing. She adjusted her emotion and addressed the present situation. They had been talking about the Llano—and there was another body blow to her certainty. “You mean that was not part of the Llano Natasha taught me? The Song of the Morning?”

The two Incarnations exchanged glances. Both shook their heads in perplexity. “I’m afraid neither of us knows that song,” Thanatos said after a moment. “The Llano is a different kind of magic from that we utilize. Perhaps what he has taught you is valid. That would not necessarily exonerate him; if it is not a religious piece …”

“It’s a—a natural piece,” she said, lacking a proper description. “It makes the dawn come, and the day brighten, and it destroyed the dancing skeletons that threatened us. Would an emissary from Satan sing such a song?”

“That does seem doubtful,” Thanatos admitted. “You say it actually banished demonic creatures?”

“It actually did.”

“I don’t see how a creature of Satan’s would do that.” Thanatos shrugged. “But of course that is not my specialty. Mars would know the answer; he is the expert in combat, especially against demonic forces.”

“Well, at such time as I encounter Mars, I will ask him,”
Orb said. “Meanwhile, I can certainly make the other tests; that should make the matter academic.”

“We appreciate your cooperation,” Thanatos said. Then Chronos lifted his other hand, which now held a large, glowing hourglass, started to tilt it—and abruptly the two were gone, and Natasha resumed animation.

Orb scrambled feverishly amidst her thoughts. What had they been talking about, before the stasis? She hated deceiving the man, but until she was sure of his nature—

Ah—about demons. They had agreed that not all demons were evil. That seemed ironic, in view of the timing of the arrival of the visitors.

“I can show you how nice Jezebel is,” Orb said.

Then Jezebel reappeared, with Lou-Mae and the drummer at her hands.

“Jez, would you mind very much if I performed a test on you?” Orb asked, feeling embarrassed.

“Welcome,” the succubus said. “Just let me fetch in the last pair.” She disappeared through the wall and soon returned with Betsy and the organist.

They assembled in the main chamber. “What was this test?” Jezebel inquired.

“Well, I have been warned that—” Orb hesitated, but saw no diplomatic way to say it. “—that Natasha might be of demonic origin. So—”

Nat straightened. “How’s that?”

“So I need to run a test,” Orb continued doggedly. “But I need a—a control person, to verify that the indications are valid. That the test works.”

“Who made such a suggestion?” Nat asked, becoming nettled.

Orb forced herself to face him. “Chronos and Thanatos. They told me that—well, never mind that. I hope you’re willing to—”

“I hardly expected a reception of this nature,” Nat said. “It would seem to me that—” But now he broke off, for the others were gazing at him.

“You know,” Jezebel said, “if there is one thing that demon skeletons would respect, it would be an agent of Satan’s.”

Nat stared at her angrily. “You ought to know, demoness.”

“They told me that my—my destiny was important,” Orb said. “That Satan might try to influence me. So I really have no choice.”

Nat grimaced. “You insist on this—this trial?”

“I’m afraid I do,” Orb said miserably.

“Then let’s have the test,” he snapped. “What do you have in mind?”

Orb addressed Jezebel. “Please repeat after me the words I say.” The succubus nodded. The others were silent; they were embarrassed by this scene.

“Demon,” Orb said.

Jezebel smiled. “Demon.”

“Person.”

“Person.”

“Angel.”

Jezebel shook her head. “You know I won’t say that.”

“But could you if you wanted to?”

“Want to? I wish I could! But it’s impossible.”

“Hell,” Orb said.

Betsy jumped. Jezebel smiled. “She’s not swearing,” she explained. “Hell.”

“Earth.”

“Earth.”

“Heaven.”

Jezebel balked. “If only …” she said sadly.

“Satan.”

“Satan.”

“God.”

Jezebel spread her hands, defeated.

“Thank you,” Orb said. She turned to Natasha.

“Angel. Heaven. God,” he said, disgusted.

Orb felt guilty. “Does someone have a cross?”

“I do,” Lou-Mae said quickly. She drew on a thin gold chain at her neck and brought up a fine silver cross.

“Give it to Jezebel,” Orb said.

“Please, no,” Jezebel said. “Its approach would damage me.”

“I’ll take it,” Nat said. He extended his hand and took the cross. He glanced at Orb. “Satisfied?”

“Almost,” Orb said, wishing she had never gotten into this. “I would like to sing a hymn.”

“Let’s spare the demoness the pain of attempting that,”
Nat said grimly. He handed back the cross, then inhaled, and sang:

As he sang, the walls of the chamber faded, and the gloom of the exterior night developed. The darkness was not total; rather, it was the murk of a dismal twilight, through which the man seemed to be trudging. The world of woe.

He proceeded through it, concluding:

As he did, the light increased, as from the overflowing brilliance of a transcendent realm ahead. Then, at the seeming point of realization, the effect faded, and the walls of the chamber reappeared.

Natasha glanced once more at Orb, then faced about, and stalked toward the wall.

“Wait!” Orb cried. “I had no choice—”

But already he was fading out. She picked up the harmonies of the traveling theme and knew he was going to some other point on the globe. She tried to match it, but could not. He was gone, and she had no way of telling where.

“I guess I’d be mad, too, if someone accused me of being a demon, and I wasn’t,” Jezebel said.

“Especially after he helped someone out of a jam,” the drummer added.

“You’re not helping much, you know,” Lou-Mae said.

Orb fled to her bedroom, where she flung herself down sobbing. She was hardly aware as the big fish resumed swimming, moving up through the air, reorienting on the original destination.

What else could she have done?

– 12 –

Time passed, but Natasha did not return. The Livin’ Sludge completed its engagement in Hawaii and made it safely back across the ocean. Now that Orb knew the Song of Day, she had no fear of the dancing skeletons; indeed, she was not certain they existed any more. She was grateful to Nat for teaching it to her, wanted to thank him, and could not. Oh, if only she had not affronted him by testing him! Yet still she did not see what else she could have done, given the warning of Thanatos and Chronos.

Lou-Mae shook her head. “You had better go to him, Orb,” she said. “We’ve got a few days off now; why don’t we stop at the Llano plain, and you can look for him?”

“I think he would have appeared by this time, if he wanted to,” Orb said sadly.

“He’s a man. He has his foolish pride. He wants you to make the first move. Go out and sing for him, and he’ll hear.”

Orb felt hope. “You think so?”

“I don’t know a lot about men, but Jezebel does, and she makes a lot of sense. She says they think they’re superior. They really believe that their animal lust is nature’s highest calling. Pretend you can’t live without him.”

“I don’t think I have to pretend,” Orb said forlornly.

Lou-Mae smiled ruefully. “I know how it is. Pretend you’re pretending. There’s not a man alive and not too many dead who would turn away from you if you sang and danced and pleaded.”

“But I don’t want to plead! I have my own pride!”

“What’s your pride worth, without him? Same as mine without Danny-Boy?”

“Very little,” Orb admitted. “He asked to court me, and I thought it was just opportunism, but every time I hear him sing—”She shook her head. “I just want to be with him.”

“That man certainly can sing,” Lou-Mae agreed. “I thought no one could match you, but he—” She shrugged.

“He can sing,” Orb repeated. “I think I live, now, to sing with him.”

Jezebel entered the chamber. “Someone sings as well as Orb? That I don’t believe.”

“You don’t?” Lou-Mae asked. “You were there. You didn’t like it?”

“I was where?”

“Down on the ocean, when Orb danced with the skeletons.”

“Orb did what?”

Both Lou-Mae and Orb looked at her askance. “You don’t remember?” Orb asked.

“I certainly don’t! What are you talking about?”

Orb glanced at Lou-Mae. Did the demoness have a short memory? How could an episode like that have escaped her so soon?

“Maybe it was a dream,” Lou-Mae said diplomatically.

Jezebel shrugged. “Demons don’t dream.”

The guitarist wandered in, fuzzy-eyed, for it was still before noon. “Hey, big momma,” he mumbled, embracing Jezebel.

“ ’Sokay, kid,” the demoness said, stroking his head.

Orb almost choked.
By day?
When the succubus was middle-aged?

Then she realized that their relationship had become more than a nocturnal thing. The guitarist, deeply insecure, had emotional need for a luscious, adoring woman by night—and for a mature, supportive mother figure by day. Jezebel was serving both needs. Orb realized that she had no call to
feel disgusted; it was better that she understand, just as it was better that she comprehend her own nature.

So it was that Jonah swam to the region of the Llano, and Orb got out and took another walk by herself. It was summer now, and the air was nice.

She sang the Song of the Morning, and the dawn came magically, and the flowers bloomed, but Natasha did not appear. She sang the Song of Day, but it wasn’t the same without him.

Then she experimented with a combination—some of the travel theme merged with some of the storm-generation theme and some of the Song of the Morning. The result was strange.

The night closed, as it did at the onset of the Song of the Morning, but when the dawn came it was inverted. The land was red-orange, the sky green, and the sunrise blue. The illuminated clouds were bright, while the sun was a dark ball. The bright region seemed to be the coldest, while the shadows were warm.

When the flowers bloomed, they started as blossoms and budded stems and roots. Startled, Orb focused more closely on them, and they came apart into separating circles and ovals and lines, as if reduced to their composites, which were mathematical. A larger pattern formed as the parts of the flowers intersected each other, extending their network into the sky and the ground. The ground became translucent, then lost its remaining cohesion.

Orb found herself standing on a pattern whose reality was shifting. The ground had become the lines of the pattern, and her feet were sliding down between the lines. Her orientation changed, so that she was no longer vertical, but it didn’t seem to matter. She was as she was, and reality was around her.

Reality? This was no variant of the reality she had known all her life! The pattern fragments of strange flowers were everywhere, filling her world, displacing what she had known. It was pretty in its fashion, but she preferred the normal values.

She had stopped singing, but the pattern remained. It seemed she could not simply revert to normality.

She sang again, the straight Song of the Morning, with no admixture of other aspects of the Llano. The fabric of the
inverted flowers tore, and curled to either side as if it were paper, and disappered.

She stood in a kind of channel that contained a single ridge whose cross section was triangular. It seemed to be made of firm plastic, bright yellow. It was high enough for her to sit on. Beyond the channel there seemed to be nothing, no wall, no landscape, just emptiness.

She sighted along the ridge. To one side it narrowed in the distance until it disappeared. To the other, it broadened until it filled everything.