"I understand. And what happened then?"
The Corojum whispered, "So we made Quaggima sleep to forget pain, and we mended its wings. But we were like Quaggima, z"na t"tapor, as you say "unaware," for egg of Quaggi grew with each wax of each moon. It sucked in substance of our world, and its sh.e.l.l got bigger and bigger. And then, as moons came all in a line, pulling, and egg rocked inside world, from inside egg we heard creature calling, "Quaggima, Quaggima, crack egg and let me out!" And Quaggima began to hearken!
"But Kaorugi was there, everywhere, listening, and he cried, "A great miscalculation! When creature breaks the egg, it breaks world, and all here nearabout, all our life and being that is Dosha will die along with Quaggima!"
"Timmys! Final verse, the one we sing at the chasm!"
"Quaggida destroys its life and ours. It lies beside the nest where its child and our doom are coalesced.
Oh, Corojumi, bring deliverance, Oh, great Bofusdiaga, who alloys all life, grant it within this dance...."
"Yes, yes," said the Corojum. "Do you see? Her child is our doom, for when Niasa breaks egg, Niasa breaks world. Everything shatters. All Dosha dies."
"Aha!" exclaimed Questioner.
"So, what was to be done?" The Corojum scowled, posed, gestured broadly in a forbidding movement. "We say Quaggima must not wake to break egg. We say it must sleep. This was not an evil thing to say. The creature in egg ..."
"Niasa?" asked Mouche.
"Little Niasa, yes, for we gave it a little name. Little Summer Snake, we called it, for it was laid in summer and so does our own little summer snake writhe within sh.e.l.l. Kaorugi says Little Niasa can go on growing in egg forever and ever if need be. There is no limit to its size so long as it has fires to feed on. Then, when world grows cold, after we are gone, then it can hatch. This did not distress Quaggima-she is called Big Summer Snake-for we had soothed Quaggima"s pain and given good dreams and much good food and drink with our mirrors...."
"Mirrors?"
"And lenses, for it eats sunlight, and Bofusdiaga sings to sun, making mirrors we use to send sunlight down into chasm. So, then, Kaorugi said, we must dance Quaggima to sleep...."
"We is who?" interrupted Questioner.
"We Corojumi and Timmys and Joggiwagga and Tunnelers and Eiger birds, and everyone that moves!"
"I get the picture."
"And Corojumi said do this thing, and that thing, and the Timmys or Joggiwagga did it, and we all sang, and when Quaggima stirred, Corojumi said no, that doesn"t work, and when Quaggima was relaxed and happy we said yes, that will do, and we put dance together, tiny bit at a time. And because Niasa was not yet grown very great, dance was enough."
"And you remembered it?" asked Ornery.
"We Corojumi remembered it. It was our job to remember it. And when came next time of many moons, we remembered it, and all Dosha danced it, and we improved it for Quaggima"s pleasure. And each time many moons happened, we improved it more, over and over again. And then came your people, those jongau."
"The men from Thor," said Questioner. "I don"t think they were our people. I don"t think they fit our definition of human, even."
"They came, whatever people they were. And they hunted us Corojumi, and they took skins away. And soon there were fewer, and then only a few, and then none but me, and those young jongau would have killed even me, but for Mouchidi! And all pieces of dance were gone but mine!"
"Each of you remembered only a small part?"
"True."
"You said, they took the skins away, so they couldn"t come to Fauxi-dizalonz. What have the skins to do with it?"
The Corojum threw up his hands. "You have all your thoughts in one place, in here," he knocked his head with one large fist. "We people of this world, Timmys, Corojumi, Tunnelers, Joggiwagga, all of us, we keep our memories all over us, in net, under skin. And when we are old, and our parts are worn, we go into Fauxi-dizalonz, and everything is refocused and straightened and made new again. Without skins, what was there to mend? Bofusdiaga tried with jongau, but it was no good."
"The jongau?"
"Your people who you say are not your people. Jong is like we say, throw away, trash. Them. Bofusdiaga thought, well, maybe they have eaten memories of Corojumi, why else would they want hides? So Bofusdiaga sent Timmys and Joggiwagga and all to bring those persons to Fauxi-dizalonz, and our people went to their town at night, and we tied them and brought them, and pushed them in the Fauxi-dizalonz, and the jong swam through and came out other side, gau!"
"Gau?" asked Questioner.
"Unmended and bent and too dreadful to live, and we told them, go back, go back, be remade as you were-for Fauxi-dizalonz will repair, you know-but the jongau would not and they smelled, so bad we could not come near them. And some of the Timmys went into Fauxidizalonz, to see if they had left anything there about the dance, but the jong had left only ugly memories and pains and horrors that Bofusdiaga took much time and care to filter out. Our peoples do not keep such things."
"Why can"t you just reinvent the dance?" asked Mouche.
"First dance, perhaps, for it was simple and Quaggima was small. Even second, or third. But this is many times one hundred dance, more complicated than you can imagine, and with something ... essential (is that word?) about it we cannot remember!" He sighed. "We will talk to Bofusdiaga. Bofusdiaga will consult Kaorugi...."
"When we have completed the voyage," said Questioner quietly.
"Yes. When we have completed voyage."
50.
The Abduction of Dancers.
Ellin and Bao had arrived in the small salon just in time to see the protocol officer"s blue legs being dragged away through an opening in the wall. Without thinking, Bao had thrown himself forward, trying to catch hold of the abductee, but before Bao could get near, he himself was grabbed by a dozen hands, lowered not ungently to the floor, and there tied and gagged. The last sight Bao had of Ellin was of her being similarly treated. The creatures committing the abduction were sylphlike, mankindlike in form, small but energetic, strong, and very set on doing what they were doing as expeditiously as possible.
Thereafter a transportation occurred through such complete darkness and in such complete silence that very little of it was perceptible to either Bao or Ellin. After a time, still in darkness, they were a.s.sured in whispers that no one was going to injure them in the slightest, their gags were removed, their arms were untied (though their legs were kept secured) and they were allowed to sit side by side, more or less comfortably, in a conveyance, type indeterminate, that was jerkily and noisily taking them somewhere, presumably away from Mantelby"s.
The moment Bao"s arms were freed he reached out to Ellin, who clung to him, partly in terror and partly in feverish excitement. "Where are we going?" she cried, almost hysterically, with a laugh on top of a sob. "Bao? That is you, isn"t it?"
"Me, yes," he said, then called into the darkness, "Who"s here?"
"Tim-tim are here," said someone in the dark. "You people say Timmys."
Ellin and Bao peered in the direction of the voice, making out a pale shadow against the black. The longer they looked, the brighter it became, an effulgence, an aura of light.
The voice spoke again from the darkness. "Bofusdiaga has sent a legger for you. We are taking you quick as may be to the sea, where is a swimmer waiting, then into a tunneler who will take you down to the Fauxi-dizalonz where you may help us recover the dance."
This brought so many questions to Ellin"s mind that she couldn"t settle on which to ask first. Bao saved her the trouble.
"What dance?" he asked.
"If we knew what dance, we would not need to recover it," the voice replied with some asperity. "This is not the time to ask questions about the dance. When we arrive, you may ask all the questions you need. Now is time to ascertain whether you are comfortable. Are you in need of food or drink or excretory privacy?"
The almost hysterical laughter bubbled in Ellin"s throat, and she swallowed it, half choking herself in the process. "Thank you, but no. I"m not hungry or thirsty. Not yet, at any rate."
"Where"s the other people you were dragging off?" demanded Bao. "Where are Questioner"s people?"
"In another tunneler, going by a slightly quicker route. They are not hurt."
Since the Timmys would not answer questions about the purpose of the trip, and since there was nothing at all to look at except a dimmish glow that the Timmys were either emitting or crouched within, Ellin sank back onto the rubbery surface with Bao"s arms about her, and the two of them whispered together comfortingly, keeping, so Bao said, their spirits in good form.
"It is being important not to be getting in a state," he avowed. "We must be keeping our wits about us."
"Will Questioner come looking for us?"
"I am not doubting she will. She will be making a terrible uproar over this abducting, believe me."
"These ... these people don"t seem to care. Something in their voices ... They sound extremely touchy, almost desperate, but not hostile. Not at all. Is it the volcanoes that have them so upset?"
"What has us upset," said a voice from the darkness, "is that mountains are falling. Great Gaman, most beautiful of caverns, is no more. What has us upset is Niasa Niasa will be hatched, I think, even if it means we die, all of us." will be hatched, I think, even if it means we die, all of us."
The voice began to sing in a language neither Ellin nor Bao had ever heard before, full of ororees ororees and and imimees imimees and and wagawagas wagawagas. The song was unmistakably a lament, long drifting phrases in a minor key, with many repet.i.tions that seemed to go nowhere, reminding Ellin of some twentieth-century ballet music by a man named ... what had it been, Gra.s.s? Gless? After a time the warmth, the music, and the jiggle-jog of the floor beneath them created a coc.o.o.n of nursery-like peace around them and they fell asleep.
When they wakened much later there was light. Dimly glowing stones had been set here and there to cast a pale greenish light on the surroundings. When they sat up, they found their legs had been untied and they could make out the glowing forms of their captors, much brighter than before, sitting at some distance from them having, so Ellin muttered resentfully to herself, a picnic.
"I"m thirsty," said Ellin plaintively, running her tongue around her dry mouth.
Immediately, one of the Timmys rose and brought them cups full of liquid. "Mir-juice," said the Timmy. "Not too sweet."
Ellin tasted it doubtfully. It was tart, cool, with a satisfying flavor somewhere between fruit and spice. By the time she had finished it, the Timmy was back with small loaves of bread. "We brought these for you," it said. "We took them from the pantry at Mantelby Mansion."
Ellin put one of the little loaves to her nose, then bit into it. It was one of the sweet breakfast breads Ellin had most enjoyed since being at the mansion. "Can"t we eat your food?" she asked, somewhat tremulously.
The Timmy smiled a three-cornered smile, its eyes crinkling, its lips open to display bright yellow mouth tissues. "a.s.suredly. But, we thought when people are s.n.a.t.c.hed up and carried off, when they are tied up and put in the belly of a legger and then are in the belly of a swimmer, and it is dark and things are most unfamiliar, then it is probably comforting to have familiar food."
Only then did Ellin and Bao realize they had indeed been moved into some new conveyance, though it felt and smelled exactly like the former one. The jogging motion had given way to a recurrent warping of their s.p.a.ce, first to one side, then the other, like the swimming motion of a fish or snake.
Bao stood up and stretched, bracing himself against the sideways warping. "So, we are having familiar food. What are you bringing specially for me?"
Another Timmy handed over a neatly wrapped sandwich. Ham and cheese. "You are watching us," said Bao. "All the time we are being here, you are watching."
"That is true," agreed the Timmy. "Mostly we watched the other ones, for they are most different. But then, we saw you dancing, and we said, oh, they are dancers, we must bring them, too, and we asked Bofusdiaga, and the word came, yes, bring them. So, we took some things to make you comfortable, and if you had not come in upon us when you did, we would have come for you very soon anyway."
"That makes me feel so special," said Ellin, only slightly sarcastically.
The Timmy was alert to the tone. "We will not hurt you. We do not hurt people. Oh, the Fauxi-dizalonz showed those other ones they were gau, but that was their own fault. Being gau is always the creature"s fault if it will not go through and through to get fixed."
"What other ones?" asked Bao.
"Now they call themselves Wilderneers," said the Timmy, with an exasperated little shake of its head. "They were the first mankind ones who came. But they were all ... all one kind and all jong. Jong, that means ... like something we sweep and throw away. We did not know they were jong until they went in the Fauxi-dizalonz. Then Bofusdiaga cried out, and we all came running to see. Fauxi-dizalonz turned an evil color, and they came out like evil monsters, and we told them, "Go back through, take up all the disguises you have left there and fix yourselves," but they would not."
"Disguises?" asked Ellin. "You mean, masks?"
"Disguises," said the Timmy, coming very close and looking her in the eye. "In your language, which is not always sensible. We say, what you wear out here," he tapped her arm, her shoulder, her cheek, "is a guise (that is your word) for what is in there," and he peered into her eyes, as though trying to see her brain. "If it does not match your insides, it is a dis-guise (that is your word, meaning a bad-guise), and you go through the Fauxi-dizalonz and get the outside to express the inside. Then back through to change the inside, perhaps, and sometimes back and forth several times, working it out."
"Do your outsides look like your insides?" she asked.
The Timmy hunkered down and considered this. "Before mankind came, Timmys were shaped differently. When mankind came, Bofusdiaga thought we would be more ... what is mankind words ... acceptable, to look like you. So, some insides also shifted, to make it work."
"Were your outsides looking like your insides before?" queried Bao.
"Always, pretty much. First came life without any insides, just moving, eating, excreting, moving some more, no thought about it, no worries, just live or get eaten, building bigger and bigger. Then, the big thing grows a little bit of insides, enough to say to itself, "Do not grow that way, the fire is too hot." So, once it says that, it must have outsides ready to grow where it says! You see?"
"When you say "insides," " asked Ellin, "you mean brain?"
"We mean the thinkables. The person inside who talks with the person outside. The unbodied observer of that which acts. I suppose yes, brain, but you people, you have four brains, maybe five, all mixed up. You know?"
"I am not knowing this," said Bao. "What five brains?"
"First very little brain for some little something swimming around that does not do much. This brain makes you jump if someone bites you. Then you have brain for some cold thing that moves better and thinks a tiny bit. This brain says run, hide, that thing is dangerous. Then you have brain for some warm thing that runs and leaps and thinks. This brain says, build nest here, not there, or eggs will drown. Then you have bigger brain that thinks much and is aware. This is ape brain. We know about ape brain because the Hags talk of it. This brain says: me powerful; oh, child, dead, I grieve; alas, I love, I want. Then comes mankind brain, brain that talks, brain that puts ape thoughts into words, brain that uses and misuses many words! Only the last brain is what you call human, which is what we call dosha, which means fullness, capable of self-judgment and correction."
"All that!" exclaimed Ellin.
"Too much," agreed the Timmy. "Because your brains are not a good fit. They are like some too small boxes in another too big box. They rattle. Outside, you look like one person, inside you are five things, not all persons. So, if you go in Fauxi-dizalonz, you come out like your insides, with lizard tail and ape arms and your inside minds say, oh, look, this is who I am, and you think about that with brain five, then you go back in Fauxi-dizalonz and put the pieces back, but put them back in good order, so they work together and do not rattle."
Ellin had listened to this with increasing horror. "But, but," she cried, "I know who I am already. I know who my grandfather and my mother were, or I would know, if I looked them up, but ..."
"Pff," said the Timmy. "You mankinds with your fathers and mothers. This is one of first things we thought strange, you all the time talking my father this, my mother that. What does fathers and mothers have to do with who you are? Your planet is your mother; time is your father. Your insides know this! All life outside you is your kin-folk. Even we dosha are your kin, born of another planet but with same father as you. Starflame makes your materials, and live-planet a.s.sembles them, and time designs what you are, not your fathers and mothers. Pff. You could be genetic a.s.semblage; Bofusdiaga could make you without fathers or mothers; and you would still be persons! But you could not have material without stars, or life without planet, or intelligence without time and be any way at all. It is your stars and your world and long time gives you legs to dance and brains to plan and voices to sing."
"My mother gave me my ability to dance," said Ellin angrily.
"Pff," said the Timmy. "And who gave her? Ah? Her mother pa.s.sed it to her, and her mother pa.s.sed it to her, and so back to the ooze. Planet and time gave dancing. Squirrels in trees dance. Horses dance in meadows. Birds dance in air. Snakes dance in the dust. Your mother did not invent it, she only inherited abilities to do it. So, she inherited well, but she did not do it herself."
"You"re saying my mother gave me nothing?" Ellin was outraged, almost shrieking.
"What your mother can give you, maybe, is recipe for chicken soup. Apple pie. Maybe she invented that."
"What are you meaning, chicken soup ..." choked Bao.
The Timmy c.o.c.ked his head far to the side, stretching his neck, a very unmankindlike gesture. "We hear Hags talk of chicken soup. Any kind of soup. This one recipe from this mother and that one from other mother, but even so, soups taste much alike. Timmy have recipes also. Many good things. You ask Mouche. We made great good smells and flavors for Mouche."
"Mouche the gardener?" cried Bao.
"Mouchidi, the one the Corojum has sent for."
After that, Ellin was too angry and Bao was too confused or bemused to ask any more questions, and very soon the swimmer began to swim much faster, with a great rushing-splashing noise along its sides, far too much noise to talk at all. Bao and Ellin settled into a comfortable hollow, stuffed bits of Ellin"s bread into their ears, and let the rocking movement slowly lull them back to sleep.
51.
Madame Meets A Messenger.