Gene Wolfe - CALDE OF THE LONG SUN

its center, through which he thrust his forefinger. "Here's where a

flechette went in."

Auk was peering at the mass of mechanisms the plate had

concealed. "I see little specks of light."

"Certainly you do!" Incus was triumphant. "What you're seeing is

what _I_ saw under this plate when _I_ was bringing him the Pardon of

Pas. His primary cable had been severed, and those are the ends of

the fibers. It's _exactly_ as if your spinal cord were cut."

Dace asked, "Can't you splice her?"

"_Indeed!_" Incus positively glowed. "Such is the mercy of Pas! Such

is his _concern_ for us, his adopted sons, that here upon the back of

this valiant talus is the one man who can _in actual fact_ restore him to

health and strength."

"So he can kill us?" Auk inquired dryly

Incus hesitated, his eyes wary, one hand upraised. The talus was

advandng even more slowly now, so that the chill wind that had

whistled around them before the shooting began had sunk to the

merest breeze. Chenille (who had been lying flat on the slanted

plate that was the talus's back) sat up, covering her bare breasts with

her forearms.

"Why, ah, _no_," Incus said at last. He took a diminutive black

device rather like a pair of very small tongs or large tweezers from a

pocket of his robe. "This is an opticsynapter, an _extremely_ valuable

tool. With it--Well, look there."

He pointed again. "That black cylinder is the triplex, the part

corresponding to _your_ heart. It's idling right now, but it pressurizes

_his_ working fluid so that he can move his limbs. The primary cable

runs to his microbank--this big silver thing below the triplex--conveying

instructions from his postprocessor."

Chenille asked, "Can you really bring him back to life?"

Incus looked frightened. "If he were _dead_, I could not, Superlative

Scylla--"

"I'm not her. I'm me." For a moment it seemed that she might

weep again. "Just me. You don't even know me, Patera, and I don't

know you."

"I don't know you either," Auk said. "Remember that? Only I'd

like to meet you sometime. How about it?"

She swallowed, but did not speak.

"Good girl!" Oreb informed them. Neither Incus nor Dace

ventured to say anything, and the silence became oppressive.

With an arm of his gammadion, Incus removed the soldier's skull

plate. After a scrutiny Auk felt sure had taken half an hour at least,

he worked one end of a second gamma between two thread-like wires.

And the soldier spoke: "K-thirty-four, twelve. A-thirty-four,

ninety-seven. B-thirty-four..."

Incus removed the gamma, telling Dace, "He was scanning, do

you follow me? It's as if _you_ were to consult a physician. He might

listen to your chest and tell you to cough."

Dace shook his head. "You make this sojer well, an' he could kill

all on board, like the big feller says. I says we shoves him over the

side."

"He _won't_." Incus bent over the soldier again.

Chenille extended a hand to Dace. "I'm sorry about your boat,

Captain, and I'm sorry I hit you. Can we be friends? I'm Chenille."

Dace took it in his own large, gnarled hand, then released it to tug

the bill of his cap. "Dace, ma'am. I never did hold nothin' agin you."

"Thank you, Captain. Patera, I'm Chenille."

Incus glanced up from the soldier. "You asked whether I could

restore _life_, my daughter. He isn't dead, merely unable to actuate

those parts that require fluid. He's unable to move his head, his

arms, and his legs, in other words. He can _speak_, as you've heard. He

_doesn't_ because of the shock he's suffered. That is my _considered_

opinion. The problem is to reconnect all the severed fibers correctly.

Otherwise, he'll move his _arms_ when he _intends_ to take a

step." He tittered.

"I still say--" Dace began.

"In _addition_, I'll attempt to render him _compliant_. For our safety.

It's not _legal_, but if we're to do as _Scylla_ has commanded..." He

bent over the recumbent soldier again.

Chenille said, "Hi, Oreb."

Oreb hopped from Auk's shoulder to hers. "No cry?"

"No more crying." She hesitated, nibbling her lower lip. "Other

girls are always tellirig me how tough I am, because I'm so big. I

think I better start trying to live up to it."

Incus glanced up again. "Wouldn't you like to borrow my robe,

my daughter?"

She shook her head. "It hurts if anything touches me, and my back

and shoulders are the worst. I've had men see me naked lots.

Usually I've had a couple, though, or a pinch of rust. Rust makes it

easy." She turned to Auk. "My name's Chenille, Bucko. I'm one of

the girls from Orchid's."

Auk nodded, not knowing what to say, and at length said, "I'm

Auk. Real pleased, Chenille."

That was the last thing he could remember. He was lying face down

on a cold, damp surface, aware of pervasive pain and soft footsteps

hastening to inaudibility. He rolled onto his back and sat up, then

discovered that blood from his nose was dribbling down his chin.

"Here, trooper." The voice was unfamiliar, metallic and harshly

resonant. "Use this."

A wad of whitish cloth was pressed into his hand; he held it

gingerly to his face. "Thanks."

From some distance, a woman called, "Is that you?"

"Jugs?"

The tunnel was almost pitch dark to his left, a rectangle of black

relieved by a single remote fleck of green. To his right, something

was on fire--a shed or a big wagon, as well as he could judge.

The unfamiliar voice asked, "Can you stand up, trooper?"

Still pressing the cloth to his face, Auk shook his head.

There was someone nearer the burning structure, whatever it

was: a short stocky figure with one arm in a sling. Others, men with

dark and strangely variegated skins... Auk blinked and looked

again.

They were soldiers, chems that he had sometimes seen in parades.

Here they lay dead, their weapons beside them, eerily lit by the

flames.

A small figure in black materialized from the gloom and gave him

a toothy grin. "_I_ had sped you to the _gods_, my son. I see _they_

sent you back."

Through the cloth, Auk managed to say, "I don't remember

meeting any," then recalled that he had, that Scylla had been their

companion for the better part of two days, and that she had not

been in the least as he had imagined her. He risked removing the

cloth. "Come here, Patera. Have a seat. I got to have a word with you."

"Gladly. _I_ must speak with _you_, as well." The little augur lowered

himself to the shiprock floor. Auk could see the white gleam of his teeth.

"Was that really Scylla?"

"_You_ know better than _I_, my son."

Auk nodded slowly. His head ached, and the pain made it

difficult to think. "Yeah1 only I don't know. Was it her, or just a

devil pretending?"

Incus hesitated, grinning more toothily than ever. "This is rather

difficult to explain."

"I'll listen." Auk groped his waistband for his needler; it was still in

place.

"My son, if a devil were to _personate_ a goddess, it would become

that goddess, in a way."

Auk raised an eyebrow.

"Or that _god_. Pas, let us say, or _Hierax_. It would run a grave risk

of merging into the total god. Or so the science of _theodaimony_

teaches us."

"That's abram." His knife was still in his boot as well, his hanger at

his side.

"Such are the _facts_, my son." Incus cleared his throat impressively.

"That is to say, the facts as far as they can be expressed in purely