Authors: John Varley
When she got to her feet she was too drunk to carry them. They walked her in circles and finally headed her back toward town. In a few hours they could get on her back again.
Titantown was in sight before they found Panpipe.
The blood had already dried in his pretty blue fur. A lance stuck out from his side, pointed at the sky. He had been mutilated.
Hornpipe knelt at his side and wept while Gaby and Cirocco hung back. There was bitterness in Cirocco’s mouth. Did Hornpipe blame her? Would she have preferred to have died with him, or was that a hopelessly Earthling notion? The Titanides didn’t seem to understand the glory of battle; it was something they did because they couldn’t help it. Cirocco admired them for the first pitied them for the second.
Do you rejoice for the one you saved, or weep for the one you lost? She could not do both, so she wept.
Hornpipe struggled to her feet, much heavier than she had been. Three years old, Cirocco thought. It meant nothing. She had some of the innocence of a human of the same age, but she was a Titanide adult.
She picked up the severed head and kissed it once, then set it down by the body. She sang nothing; the Titanides had no song for this moment.
Gaby and Cirocco got on her back again, and Hornpipe set out for town at a slow trot.
“Tomorrow,” Cirocco said. “We leave for the hub tomorrow.”
Five days later, Cirocco was still preparing to depart. There was the problem of who and what to take.
Bill was out, though he had other opinions. So was August. She spoke seldom now, spending her time on the edge of town, answering questions in monosyllables. Calvin could not say if the best therapy would be to leave her or to take her with them. Cirocco had to decide in favor of the mission, which would be in trouble if August suffered a breakdown.
Calvin was out because he had promised to stay in Titantown until Bill was well enough to care for himself; after that, he was on his own.
Gene was in. Cirocco wanted him where she could keep an eye on him, far from Titanides.
That left Gaby.
“You can’t leave me,” she said, not pleading, merely stating a fact of life. “I’ll follow you.”
“I won’t try to. You’re a pest with this fixation you have on me that I don’t deserve. But you saved my life, which I’ve never really thanked you for, and I want you to know I’ll never forget it.”
“I don’t want your thanks,” Gaby said. “I want your love.”
“I can’t give it to you. I
like
you, Gaby. Hell, we’ve been side by side since this thing started. But we’re doing the first fifty kilometers in Whistlestop. I won’t force you to get on.”
Gaby paled, but spoke up bravely. “You won’t have to.”
Cirocco nodded. “As I say, it’s up to you. Calvin says we can get to the level of the twilight zone. The blimps don’t go any higher than that, because the angels don’t like it.”
“So it’s you and me and Gene?”
“Yeah.” Cirocco frowned. “I’m glad you’re going.”
They needed many things and Cirocco did not know how to obtain them. The Titanides had a system of exchange, but prices were established by a complex formula involving degrees of relationship, standing in the community, and need. No one went hungry, but low-status individuals like Hornpipe had little but meals, shelter, and the bare necessities of body ornamentation. The Titanides viewed these as only slightly less vital than food.
There was a credit system, and Meistersinger used some of his, but relied mostly on pegging Cirocco’s status arbitrarily high, claiming her as his spiritual hinddaughter and making a case that she should be adopted as such by the community because of the nature of her mission.
Most of the Titanide artisans bought the idea, and were almost too helpful in outfitting the party. Backpacks were made with straps arranged for human bodies. Then everyone came offering his or her finest wares.
Cirocco had decided each of them could carry around fifty kilos of mass. It bulked large, but weighed only twelve kilos and would get lighter as they climbed toward the hub. Gaby said the
centripetal acceleration there would be one fortieth of a gravity.
Rope was the first consideration. The Titanides had a plant that grew fine rope, strong, thin, and supple. Each human could carry a hundred-meter coil of it.
The Titanides were good climbers, though they largely confined their efforts to trees. Cirocco discussed pitons with the ironworkers, who came back with their best efforts. Unfortunately, steel was news to the Titanides. Gene looked at the pitons and shook his head.
“It’s the best they can do,” Cirocco said. “They tempered it, like I told them.”
“It’s still not enough. But don’t worry. Whatever the insides of the spoke is, it won’t be rock. Rock could never stand up to the pressures trying to tear this place apart. In fact, I don’t know of anything strong enough.”
“Which just means the people who built Gaea knew things we don’t know.”
Cirocco was not too disturbed. The angels lived in the spokes. Unless they existed by flying all their lives, they had to perch somewhere. If they could perch on something, she could cling to it.
They brought hammers to drive the pitons, the lightest and hardest the Titanides could make. The metalworkers provided them with hatchets and knives, and whetstones to sharpen them. They each packed a parachute, courtesy of Whistlestop.
“Clothes,” Cirocco said. “What kind of clothes should we bring?”
Meistersinger looked helpless.
“I have no need of them, as you can see,” he sang. “Some of our people who are naked-skinned, as you are, wear them in the cold times. We can make what you want.”
So they were outfitted in the finest patterned silks from head to toe. It was not actually silk, but felt like it. Over that were felt shirts and pants, two sets for each of them, and woven sweaters for upper and lower parts of the body. Fur coats and pants were made, and fur-lined gloves and hard-soled moccasins. They had to go prepared for anything, and though the clothing took a lot of space, Cirocco didn’t begrudge it.
They packed silk hammocks and sleeping bags. The Titanides had matches, and oil-burning lamps. They took one each, and a small supply of fuel. There was no way it would stretch for the whole journey, but neither would their food or water.
“Water,” Cirocco fretted. “That could be a big problem.”
“Well, like you said, the angels live up there.” Gaby was helping with the packing on the fifth day of preparations. “They must drink something.”
“That doesn’t mean waterholes will be easy to find.”
“If you’re going to be all the time worrying, we might as well not go.”
They took waterskins good for about nine or ten days, and then filled out the mass limit with as much dried food as would fit. They planned to eat what the angels ate, if that was possible.
On the sixth day everything was ready, and she still had to face Bill. She was glum about the possibility of having to use her authority to end the argument, but knew she would do so if it came to it.
“You’re all crazy,” Bill said, hitting his palm on the bed. “You have no idea what you’ll find up there. Do you seriously think you can climb up a chimney
400 kilometers high
?”
“We’re going to see if it’s possible.”
“You’re gonna get yourselves killed. You ought to be doing a thousand klicks when you hit.”
“I figure terminal velocity in this air couldn’t be much over 200. Bill, if you’re trying to cheer me
up, you’re doing a lousy job.” She had never seen him like this, and she hated it.
“We should all stick together, and you know it. You’re still overcompensating because you lost
Ringmaster
, trying to act the hero.”
If there hadn’t been a grain of truth in what he said, it couldn’t have hurt so much. She had thought about it for long hours while trying to sleep.
“Air! What if there’s no air up there?”
“We’re not going to commit suicide. If it’s impossible, we’ll accept it. You’re manufacturing arguments.”
His eyes pleaded with her.
“I’m asking you, Rocky. Wait for me. I have never asked anything before, but I’m asking for this now.”
She sighed, and gestured for Gaby and Gene to leave the room. When they were gone she sat on the edge of his bed and reached for his hand. He moved it away. She stood up quickly, furious at herself for trying to reach him that way, and at him for rejecting her.
“I don’t seem to know you, Bill,” she said, quietly. “I thought I did. You’ve been a comfort to me when I was lonely, and I thought I might love you in time. I don’t fall in love easily. Maybe I’m too suspicious; I don’t know. Sooner or later everybody demands that I be what they want me to be, and now you’re doing it.”
He said nothing, did not even look at her.
“What you’re doing is so unfair I could scream.”
“I wish you would.”
“Why? So I’d fit your picture of what a woman’s supposed to do? Damn it, I was a Captain when you met me; I didn’t think that was so important to you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the fact that if I leave here now, it’s all over between us. Because I won’t wait for you to come along to keep me safe.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
She did scream then, and it felt good. She could even manage a bitter laugh when it was over. It had startled Bill. Gaby stuck her head in the door, then vanished when Cirocco did not acknowledge her presence.
“Okay, okay,” she said. “I’m over-reacting. It’s because I lost my ship and have to make up for it by covering myself with glory. I’m frustrated because I haven’t been able to put this crew back together and get it functioning, even to the extent of having the one man I thought I could depend on respect my decisions, shut up, and do what he’s told. I am one odd critter; I know that. Maybe I’m too aware of things that would be different if I was a man. You
get
sensitive when you see it happen over and over on your way up, and you have to be twice as good to get the job.
“You disagree with my decision to go up. You have stated your objections. You said you loved me. I don’t think you do any more, and I’m very sorry things turned out this way. But I order you to wait here until I return, and say no more to me about it.”
His mouth was set in an uncompromising line.
“It’s because I love you that I don’t want you to go.”
“My God, Bill, I don’t want that kind of love. ‘I love you, so hold still while I tie you down.’ What hurts is that it’s you doing it. If you can’t have me as my own woman, able to make my own decisions and take care of myself, you can’t have me at all.”
“What kind of love is that?”
She felt like crying, but knew she didn’t care.
“I wish I knew. Maybe there’s no such thing. Maybe one has to be taken care of by the other, which means I’d better start looking for a man who’ll be dependent on me because I won’t have it the other way. Can’t we just care for each other? I mean when you’re weak I help out, and when I’m weak you support me.”
“It looks like you’re never weak. You just said you can take care of yourself.”
“Any human being should. But if you think I’m not weak, you don’t know me. I’m like a little baby right now, wondering if you’re going to let me leave here without a kiss, without even wishing me good luck.”
Damn it, there went a tear. She wiped at it quickly, not wanting him to accuse her of using tears as a weapon. How do I get in these no-win situations? she wondered. Strong or weak, she would always be on the defensive about it.
He relented enough for a kiss. There seemed little to say when they moved apart. Cirocco could not tell what his reaction was to her dry eyes. She knew he was hurt, but did that hurt him more?
“You come back as soon as you can.”
“I will. Don’t worry too much about me. I’m too mean to kill.”
“Don’t I know it.”