Wizard (12 page)

She introduced him to the others, and he heard himself named as Long-Odds Major. What had he been telling her? The two Titanides were a female named Cymbal (Lydian Trio) Prelude and a male with the unlikely name of Hichiriki (Phrygian Quartet) Madrigal. Valiha, he learned, was also a member of the Madrigal chord. They were distinguished by their yellow skin and cotton-candy hair. Her middle, parenthetical name was Aeolian Solo. He gathered that the middle names of Titanides designated breeding. Little was clear beyond that.

“And all this…?” Chris hoped that not completing the sentence would protect the secret of his ignorance of things she thought he knew. He gestured at the white lines, at the rocks and flowers. “What mode did you say this was going to be?”

“A Double-flatted Mixolydian Trio,” she said, apparently nervous enough to chatter about anything, regardless of having discussed it before. “It’s on the sign there in front. You realize that’s not really what it is—a Double-flatted Mixolydian Trio is musically meaningless; it’s just a string of English words we use for the real words that you can’t sing. Oh, I guess I didn’t say, but that mode means that Cymbal was the foremother and Hichiriki was the forefather. If we get tapped, Cymbal will be the hindfather.”

“And you the hindmother,” Chris said, feeling safe.

“Right. They produced the egg, and Cymbal will quicken it in me.”

“The egg.”

“Right here.” She reached into her pouch—how handy to have a built-in pocket, Chris thought—and tossed him something the size of a golf ball. He almost dropped it, and Valiha laughed.

“It doesn’t have a shell,” she said. “But haven’t you seen one before?” A slight frown creased her forehead.

Chris had no idea. This one was quite hard, apparently solid. It was a perfect sphere, pale gold with brown whorls like fingerprint smudges. It had milky areas in its translucent depths. Someone had printed a series of Titanide characters on it.

He gave it back to her, then looked at the sign she had mentioned earlier. It rested on the ground, a ten-centimeter metal plate engraved with symbols and lines:

“The
F
stands for female,” someone said, behind him. He turned and saw two human women talking to each other. They both were short and rather pretty. The smaller one had a green, staring Eye painted on her forehead. There were more drawings partially visible on her legs and arms. She looked
young. The other, darker one was the voice he had heard. He could not guess her age, though she did not look older than her middle thirties.

“The
M
, of course, is male. The star at the right is the semi-fertilized egg produced by the foremother, and the arrow pointing up from the bottom line shows the first fertilization. This is a Double-flatted Mixolydian Trio, which means the foremother is also the hindfather. Mixolydian ensembles are those with two females participating, except for Aeolian Duets, where the whole ensemble is female. All Aeolian modes are all-female. Lydian modes have one female and one, two, or three males, and the Phrygian mode, of which there is only the quartet, has three females and one male, the forefather.”

Chris stepped out of the way as the smaller woman knelt to peer at the legend on the sign. He wanted to find out how he fitted into the picture and hoped he could learn by eavesdropping. It was a tactic he had used well in the past after memory lapses, a common one among people with mental problems, whose almost universal urge was not to reveal the extent of their condition.

The woman sighed as she straightened up.

“I guess I’m still missing something,” she said with a faint accent Chris could not place. She pointed to Chris as if he were a statue. “How does
he
fit in?”

The older one laughed. “Not at all, into a Mixolydian Trio. There are two modes that include humans—the Dorian and Ionian—but there are none of those here today. You’ll seldom see them. No, if anything, he’s part of the decorations. He’s a fertility fetish. A good-luck charm. Titanides are very superstitious at Carnival.”

She had been looking at him while she spoke; now her eyes met his for the first time, searched for something, and did not seem to find it, and she broke into a smile. She extended her hand.

“I don’t think you really are, though, anymore,” she said. “I’m Gaby Plauget. I hope I didn’t offend you.”

Chris was surprised at the strength of her grasp.

“I’m—”

“Chris Major,” She laughed again. It was innocent laughter, impossible to take the wrong way. “I shouldn’t do that. You’ve probably gathered I know a little about you. We haven’t met, though.”

“I get the feeling that … never mind.” Chris thought he knew the name from somewhere, but she had said they had not met, so he dropped it. If he spent too much time trying to recall shadow experiences buried in his head, he would never get anything done.

She nodded. “I’ll tell you more later. I’ll see you around.” She fluttered the fingers of one hand, still grinning, and returned to the other woman. “Look at the top row of symbols as one Titanide,” she explained. “Hind legs to the left, head to the right. The top row represents a female: vagina in back, penis in the middle, another vagina between the forelegs. The second row is also a female, and the third row is a male. Now does it make sense? Top row is foremother and hindfather, middle row is hindmother, bottom row …”

“What was that she was saying to you?”

Chris turned, saw Valiha looking nervous.

“Well, just what did I say to
you
?”

“That you were very lucky, and you … you mean it’s not true?” Her eyes grew wide, and she put her hand to her mouth.

“I seem to have times of being lucky,” he said. “It’s not reliable, though. And I don’t recall how we met, or what we’ve talked about, or what we’ve done together. I’m blank from … well, the last thing I remember is talking to Gaea in a big room at the hub. I’m sorry. Did I make some kind of promise?”

But Valiha had returned to her two partners. They put their heads together and sang a sweet moaning melody. He gathered they were talking it over. He sighed and looked around for Gaby and her companion, but they had moved far down the row, walking toward a large white tent that stood on the edge of the judging field.

* * *

Valiha asked him to be near for the review when it came. She wanted to know if he brought bad luck when he was not crazy, and he said he didn’t think so. It was clear the three Titanides were upset and did not know what to do. He thought it might be best to melt into the crowd, not burden them with what seemed to him the black cloud of doom he carried with him. With that intention he started off down the field, not hurrying, studying the groupings of Titanides.

It made more sense now. Each square contained an ensemble the purpose of which was to be certified for reproduction. To that end they had created proposals according to arcane rules of their own. They grouped themselves in twos, threes, and fours, each specifying one of the twenty-nine possible modes of procreation, each having already produced a semi-fertilized egg: the first stage of the Titanide sexual minuet.

Chris wondered, as he ambled slowly between the groups, just how many of these proposals would ever be put into effect and who made the decisions. It didn’t take a lot of insight to realize that Gaea was a finite world. He supposed that with industrialization Gaea could be made to support many more sentient beings than she now did, but a limit would soon be reached. It followed that only a small number of the groups around him would be chosen to procreate. He made a guess at how few that would be, thought he was being conservative, and later learned he had overshot the mark by a factor of five.

Such competition produces stress, and stress leads to irrationality. Had Titanides been humans, there would have been much fighting at Carnival, but Titanides did not fight among themselves. Losers retired to weep in private. They emerged after a period of sorrow to wild drinking and dancing and much talk about next time. But before that they grasped at anything, decorating their assigned squares with talismans, amulets, and charms, becoming for a time intensely superstitious, like bettors at racetracks or primitives aware of their status as small beings doing their best to attract God’s attention.

The displays they created to enhance their proposals ranged from the baroque to the minimalist.
Chris saw one group of two who had built a shaky pagoda festooned with broken glass, flowers, empty cans, and beautiful ceramic pots. Another square was carpeted in white feathers, sprinkled with blood. Some practiced tableaux or short skits; others juggled knives while standing on their hind legs. There was a starkly simple display that Chris found irresistible, consisting of a worn gray stone with an egg sitting on it, set off by a twig and two tiny flowers.

There was one square with a single occupant. Chris at first thought the rest of the ensemble had not yet arrived, but when he studied the sign in front of the proposal, he was even more puzzled:

According to Gaby’s explanation, each row on the sign represented a Titanide. Further, the sign seemed to indicate that this female intended to be forefather, foremother, hindfather, and hindmother to her child. He looked at her. She was a lovely creature, covered in snowy fur, sitting down with a single clear green egg resting on the grass between her knobby front knees. He couldn’t resist.

“Pardon me. I don’t think I understand just how …”

She was smiling at him, but her look showed incomprehension. She sang a few notes to him, lifted her shoulders eloquently, and shook her head.

He left her, still curious as to just what it was she intended to do.

* * *

He had meant to steal away, but somehow he was still around when the Wizard emerged from her tent and began making her review. Chris happened to be close by. He decided to watch for a while.

She was a big woman and made no attempt to hide the fact, carrying herself erectly, shoulders back, chin out. Her skin was light brown, her hair a fine mahogany, blowing carelessly to each side of a part down the center. Her brow was a bit too prominent, her nose too long and her jaw too wide to play
glamour roles in the movies, but she had a power in her movements, something about her that transcended more conventional beauty. She walked on the balls of her bare feet, a quarter-gee gait Chris had seen before that involved the knees’ bending very little with each stride, with her hips doing most of the work. It was feline and very sexy, though not meant to be; it was simply the most efficient way to walk in Gaea.

He followed her for a while as she moved up and down the rows of applicants. She was accompanied by a brace of Titanide bucks of the Cantata clan: light-skinned and hairless but for their heads, tails, forearms, and lower legs, and large even among Titanides. One carried a clipboard; the other, a gold box. They were apparently identical twins. They wore only gold bracelets and bands around arms and legs. The Wizard looked less regal. Her sole garment was a faded brick-red blanket with a hole she could put her head through, covering her to the knees. Her arms were often lost in its folds, but when they came out, Chris could see she wore nothing under it.

The Wizard ignored the white lines on the ground, moving from one square to another as it suited her. Her Titanide retinue and the small number of other observers stuck to the lanes between squares, however, and Chris did, too. One of the Cantatas was making sure she looked at every group, checking off squares on his board, once calling the Wizard back when she turned at the wrong place.

She knew many of the Titanides. Often she would stop to sing with them, kissing some, embracing others. She walked slowly through the groups after first reading the sign in front and looking the Titanides up and down with no expression on her face. Sometimes she stopped and appeared lost in thought, then would confer with an aide, mutter something to him, and move on. At some squares she asked questions of one or more candidates.

She went through the entire group that way, then started through again. Chris began to be bored with it. He decided to say good-bye and good luck to Valiha and her ensemble.