ORLENE

Jolie was in France when she felt the pain. Someone close
to her was dying!

She was conducting a routine observation, animating a
servant girl in the house of the man she was studying. She
had to extricate herself in a hurry—but not in such a way as
to alienate her host.

Please, Marie—something pressing has come up. May I
leave you for a time?

The girl was startled. "You will return?" she asked in
French. She enjoyed their association, because she was dull
and Jolie was bright. When Jolie animated her, she carried
herself with greater flair and was more alert, and her
employer liked that. There was nothing untoward in this,
and the employer had no designs on Marie; he merely liked
to think that his relatively egalitarian household was good
for her.

When I can, Jolie reassured her, communicating mind to
mind because she did not want the girl to seem to be
muttering. I fear a friend is in trouble.

"Of course you must go to her!" Marie agreed.

She had spoken too loudly, and the employer looked up

2 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 3

from his book. "What was that?" he inquired, also in
French.

Jolie took over. "I beg your pardon, sir. My mind
garbled, and I misspoke myself."

He smiled indulgently. "It happens to the best of us,
and to me also. But if someone needs you, you may have
time off, of course."

He was a good and generous man—which was why
Jolie was observing him. "Thank you, sir. But the need is
not pressing. I will finish here."

He nodded, and returned to his book. He was a portly
married man, and Marie was young and shapely and not
bright, but he treated her with perfect courtesy, much as he
would a visitor. That, too, counted in his favor.

Jolie returned control to the maid, and reverted to her
home immediately. This was a drop of blood on the wrist of
Gaea, the Incarnation of Nature. Gaea was at the moment
making an observation of her own: the pattern of weather in
the mid-Pacific ocean, which might require delicate modi-
fication to weaken an untimely storm. She felt the return,
and lifted her wrist. "Back so soon, Jolie?"

"Gaea, I felt the dying of one I love. I must go to her!"

"Go!" Gaea agreed. She was another ideal employer
and friend; she did not inquire into Jolie's private business,
either overtly or covertly, but allowed free rein. This was
the type of generosity afforded by one with such enormous
power that she could, if she chose, destroy the world. Any
of the seven major Incarnations could—but their thrust was
not to harm the world, but to preserve it.

Jolie oriented on the pain she felt. In a moment she was
there.

"Oh, Orlene!" she exclaimed, horrified. For there,
slumped at her treasured piano, was the lovely young
woman Jolie had known for fifteen years. She was dying,
and Jolie knew that it was already too late. Stunned, she
could only hover, unable at first to grasp the enormity of
this event. How could this have happened?

Then the body expired and the soul floated out diapha-
nously. It resembled a translucent film marked with a patina
of shadow. The light color predominated, indicating a
positive balance; this soul was destined for Heaven.

But the soul twisted as if still in pain, and a part of it
clung to the dead body. Jolie understood that phenomenon;

often it took time for a person to grasp the reality of death,
and the soul hesitated to leave the comfort of the familiar
body. More darkness was manifesting; there was a surpris-
ing amount of evil on this soul, though Jolie knew it was
good.

"Orlene, let go!" she cried. "You will float directly to
Heaven!"

The soul writhed, drawing itself clumsily down. "No—
no," it said blurrily. "I must not go!"

"Orlene, it is Jolie! Your dream-friend! I would not
guide you falsely! You are good; you have nothing to fear
from the Afterlife! Let go your body, and you will soon be
in Heaven!" Though not as soon as one with less evil. How
could the balance be so close?

"I must not!" Orlene replied, still clinging.

A skeletal figure appeared. It was Thanatos, the collec-
tor of the balanced souls of the dead. He saw Jolie and
paused, surprised. "You know this client?"

"She is my friend, my cherished—almost my child,"
Jolie said. "She has died, and I don't know why."

Thanatos glanced at the struggling soul. "She is bound
for Heaven; I can see that without testing, though she could
not afford very much more evil. Let me facilitate her
passage." He reached out with a bonefingered hand.

The soul cringed away. "No! No!"

"Orlene, it's all right!" Jolie cried. "This is the
Incarnation of Death, come to assist you on your way to
Heaven. Your pain of the body is over!"

"No, I must not go! I must find my baby!"

Thanatos nodded. "Ah, the baby; I remember now. Her
son died ten days ago; he was in balance, and I came for




4 Piers Anthony

him and talked with the father. A terrible irony, but
destined. Gaea's error."

Jolie was astonished. "Gaea? I know nothing of this!"

Thanatos made a gesture, and the soul froze in place.
Time was still, except for the two of them. "This was the
bride in a ghost marriage; the ghost could not impregnate
her, so she had a living companion, a man of sensitivity.
She conceived by him, the child to be the legal heir of the
ghost."

"That much I know," Jolie said. "She married Gawain,
the ghost of a dragon slayer who was killed by an allosaur,
who needed an heir. Then she found Norton, who was just
right for her. I had other business, so I did not check on her
once I knew she was fulfilled and happy. Evidently I should
have! How could she have lost her baby, and died, when it
was going so well?"

"The ghost prevailed on Gaea to modify the genetic
pattern of the baby to match that of the ghost, so that there
would be true continuity. Gaea did it as a favor without
researching, and so incorporated a negative aspect of the
ghost's heritage. The baby developed a recessive malady
that killed it, no fault of either of the biological parents.
That was the point at which her fate was sealed; she could
not endure without her baby, and was destined for suicide as
soon as she put her affairs in order. It is of course an
unfortunate waste, but was fixed from the moment of
Gaea's error."

"Her baby!" Jolie exclaimed. "That's why she is
resisting her passage to Heaven! Where did the baby go?"

"It was in balance, by definition, and could travel
neither to Heaven nor to Hell. It remains in Purgatory."

"And she wants to be with her son! If he's not in
Heaven, she doesn't want to go there herself!"

"But there is no point—"

"Please, Thanatos, I'm her friend. Let me try to help
her. Does she have to go to Heaven right away?"

The cloaked figure shrugged. "She does not. Her

AND ETERNITY          5

balance is actually fairly close, because she was born
illegitimate, had an affair outside her marriage, and com-
mitted suicide. Those three sins would have been enough to
send her to Hell were she not otherwise of virtually
complete goodness. If she exerts her will, she may remain
indefinitely in the mortal realm, as a ghost like you. I came
only because it seemed she was having difficulty extricating
herself from her body. I leave it in your hands."

"Thank you, Thanatos. I will take care of her until she
accepts her situation." Then, as an afterthought: "How can
so much sin attach to her soul for being of illegitimate birth,
when she was not at fault for that? Or for having an affair,
when the conditions of her marriage required it to enable her
to have a baby for her ghost husband? Or for seeking to help
her baby, even in the Afterlife?"

The skull seemed to grimace. "God made those defini-
tions, not I. Were I to have authority, I would change them,
and allow only evil motive to stain a soul. But it is not my
place. I must operate within the set guidelines."

Jolie sighed. She had known it; her question had been
mostly rhetorical, borne of the pain of this unexpected
death. "I agree. But I am no person to attempt to criticize
the Incarnation of Good."

Thanatos nodded, then turned and walked through the
wall. As he did so, the scene reanimated. The struggles of
the soul resumed.

Jolie put out a hand and caught the hand region of the
soul. "Peace, Orlene, Thanatos is gone! You do not have to
go anywhere you don't want to!"

The struggles diminished. The soul began to assume a
belter semblance. "My baby—"

"Your baby is in Purgatory. I will take you there, if you
wish. I am Jolie, your friend of dreams; do you recognize
me now?"

Slowly the recognition came. "My friend of dreams? I
begin to remember, but ..."

Jolie knew how hard it was to get organized after death;

6 Piers Anthony

she had been through the process herself and had seen it
many times in others. Normally a newly separated soul
drifted either Heavenward or Hellward on its own, its
direction determined by the balance of good and evil
burdening it, and remained unconscious until arrival. In
Heaven it assumed the form of its lost body and seemed like
a living person in a new setting, and angels came to guide
it to its appropriate level. In Hell it also returned to seeming
life, but had a harsher welcome. Thus, to the individual, it
seemed as if there were little or no transition between the
last breath of life and appearance in the designated realm of
the Afterlife.

But some few were unable to travel directly to a realm,
either because of an almost perfect balance of good and evil
or because their business among mortals was unfinished.
Thanatos came to assist the former, while the latter often
wandered for some time as ghosts. This had been the case
with Jolie—and now with Orlene.

"Yes, I am a ghost," she said. "I could not approach
you in your waking state for several reasons, but when you
slept and dreamed, I was your friend. You perhaps thought
me a mere creature of your imagination, but this was not the
case. I was sent by a friend of your mother to watch over
you, and that I did, until I saw you secure and happy. Now
I regret I did not follow you further, for your life seems to
have been destroyed during my brief absence."

"Jolie, my friend of dreams," the soul repeated. "Yes,
now it returns. How glad I am to see you! Will you help me
find my baby? I must have him with me!"

"I will help you," Jolie agreed. "But we must talk, to
give you time to acclimatize, to learn the ways of the
ghostly existence, so that you may operate with competence
and confidence. Let me guide you to a better setting."

Orlene looked down at her body, to which she still
clung. It remained slumped, one hand on the piano key-
board, looking gaunt and uncomfortable in death. "Are you
sure I dare let go? I won't be launched to Heaven?"

AND ETERNITY          7

"I will hold your hand and keep you from Heaven,"
Jolie said. "Trust me; I love you in a way you hardly
know."

Nervously, Orlene clutched her hand and let go of the
body. She did not float away. But she was not reassured.
"Oh, I wish I hadn't killed myself! Yet if I hadn't—"

"Come, I know a house where we can relax," Jolie
said, drawing her toward the wall.

Then the door opened, and there was Orlene's lover,
Norton. He stared at the body. "Oh, Orlene!" he breathed
with horror, instantly knowing. "Oh, my love!"

"Oh, my love!" Orlene echoed, appalled. "Oh, why did
I do this to you!'' She floated toward him, arms outstretched.

"He cannot see you," Jolie said, sharing the pain of the
situation. "Few mortals know how to see the supernatural,
and few spirits can manifest visibly or audibly to mortals. I
can teach you—but it will take time. Let him go, Orlene;

that aspect of your existence is over."

"I know," the soul said sadly. "I just can hardly accept
it. I wish I had loved him as he loved me; then I would not
have done this awful thing! But my baby—"

"Leave him; it is all you can do now. Come with me."

Reluctantly, tearfully, Orlene acquiesced. They left
Norton staring at the body, and Jolie guided her through the
wall and away.

But as they moved, Jolie thought of her own death, the
memory triggered by the recent scene.. She had died early in
the thirteenth century, in southern France, victim of a
crusader who was trying to rape her. Her husband had tried
to save her, but the agony of her wound was too great, and
she had begged him to let her die. He had done so, then fled
the crusaders, his life irrevocably altered by that experience.
In retrospect she believed that she should have tried harder
to live, so as not to leave her husband desolate, but at the
time the physical pain had been overwhelming. She had
been selfish, thinking more of her immediate pain than of
his long-term pain.




8                 Piers Anthony

She brought Orlene to the Treehouse in Purgatory, a
place that was guaranteed private from all except its
mistress. It was in the form of a phenomenal living tree
whose trunk was hollow and whose branches twisted around
to form upper chambers. Here the two of them assumed full
human shape and substance. Had either been mortal, there
would have been a severe complication, for Purgatory time
was different for mortals. But Incarnations and ghosts were
immune to that effect. Jolie bade her guest take one of the

comfortable vine-woven chairs.

"But how can I be alive again?" Orlene asked, bewil-
dered, feeling her solid flesh.

"You are not, and neither am I. This is Purgatory,
where souls assume their living forms, just as they do in
Heaven and in Hell. I brought you here because it will be
easier for you to adjust in your normal semblance."

"But this is a house!" Orlene exclaimed. "A strange
house, with leaves sprouting from the walls and soil for the
floor! How can this be the realm of spirits?"

Jolie realized that it was best to focus first on the basics.
Soon enough they would get to the specifics of the woman's
situation, when she was ready for them.

"All the Incarnations have homes in Purgatory," she
explained. "They each have servants and staff to assist
them in their formidable duties. But the Incarnation of
Nature prefers to run her household alone, so that none may
know her comings and goings, and indeed it can be quite
difficult to visit. That is why I am certain of our privacy."
"This—is the home of Nature?" Orlene asked, amazed.
"Yes. That is why it is alive. All living things, and most
dead ones, are her business. She is perhaps the most
powerful of the Incarnations, aside from Good and Evil."
"But how can we be here?"

Jolie smiled. "I am a friend of the Incarnation. Indeed,
I am her closest companion and confidante, for all that I am
merely a ghost like you. That is why I was able to bring you
here."

AND ETERNITT          9

"I thought you were just a dream figment—a companion
I invented in my sleep! You never said anything about
Incarnations!"

"Not that you may remember at the moment," Jolie
said. "It was not relevant. I am part of a complex skein, and
am not free to discuss much of it, but this much you may
accept: I came to you by design, not chance, and I have
loved you as I would my own child."

Now Orlene remembered something. "You said you
were a friend of my mother! But my parents never said
anything about the supernatural!"

They were about to get into the woman's history. That
was good, because the more time and thought that separated
her from the concept of her recent death, the better. "You
were adopted. I referred to your natural mother, who had to
give you up when you were just a few weeks old."

"A blind Gypsy," Orlene agreed. "There was never
any secrecy about my origin. My parents were always good
to me, and I am thankful to have come to them. I had hoped
to be as good for my own baby as they were for me." Then,
abruptly, she clouded up, remembering the tragedy.

"A Gypsy woman gave you to your family," Jolie
agreed. "But she was not your mother. She was a friend of
your mother, before I was. Your mother conceived you out
of wedlock, and your father was unexpectedly prevented
from marrying her, and she had other business, so had to
give you up. The Gypsy would have kept you, but fate
denied her; it was her charge to give you to a suitable
American family, and that she did. Your mother could have
followed you, but elected not to interfere; by her own
design, she let you go so that you could be a complete part
of your new family. Except that—"

"She sent you!" Orlene exclaimed.

"Not exactly," Jolie said. "It was another who did
that. He told her nothing except that you were well and
happy. I came to you in your dreams and helped you to
leam things you could not otherwise have learned, so that

10                Piers Anthony

some day you might better understand the situation of your
mother. In the course of that I soon came to love you
myself, and now I regard you as mine too."

"But you are no older than I am!"

"My dear, physically I am not. But I died in the year
1208. I have been a ghost ever since."

Orlene stared at her. "But that's almost eight hundred

years ago!"

"Almost," Jolie agreed. "I was seventeen, divinely

married, and learning sorcery in southern France. But there
was a crusade against the Albigensians, because they were
resisting taxation, and the first thing the Church went after
was opposing sorcerers. I died, and my husband fled—but
he prevailed on Thanatos to let him carry me with him in a
drop of my blood on his wrist. I could not quite depart the
mortal realm, you see, because of an abiding evil in my
situation, so I remained. When my husband was confined in
Hell, Gaea took my drop of blood, and I became her
companion instead of his. I am omitting considerable detail,
but that is the essence. I remain in appearance as I was when

I died: younger than you."

"So you are seventeen—and eight hundred years old!"
Orlene exclaimed. "And you knew my genetic mother!"

"And know her still. I can introduce you to her, if you

wish."

Orlene considered. "No, I think I would rather not
know. I would not see her as my mother, and it could be
awkward, especially since I am a ghost."

"Perhaps that is best. She knows that I have been in
touch with you, but does not know your identity or that you
have died, and I will not tell her if you prefer."

"Do not tell her," Orlene agreed. "I have sown enough
pain already! But do tell me—if you are the companion of
the Incarnation of Nature, how is it that you had occasion to
interact with others, such as my mother or myself?"

"I am bound to Gaea by my drop of blood, the sole
remaining vestige of my mortal body. But she is busy with

AND ETERNITY          11

many things which are hardly my concern, and gives me
leave to go where I wish and do what I wish. I always return
to her when she needs me, but most of the time I am on my
own, and so I meet many folk, living and dead. At the
moment I am engaged in a project to locate suitable
candidates to become Incarnations, and this is a most
challenging enterprise."

"Incarnations! They are looking for replacements?"

"Not precisely. They merely want to have a pool of
excellent candidates to draw from when the need arises. The
candidates in the pool are not notified, they are merely
observed, and then when the occasion should come, one of
them may be tapped. It is better than allowing it to continue
at random. I was observing a man in France, not far from
my mortal residence, when I felt your dying. The observa-
tion is long-term and can wait, while your death was
immediate, so I came right away."

"I would not want to keep you from your job! Once I
am reunited with my baby, I have little care for what
happens to me. I would rather be in Hell with him than in
Heaven without him." She was evidently sincere.

"I will help you find him; my time is not pressed." Jolie
looked at the ghost. "But, if I may, let me get you into
better shape."

"Shape?"

"You look exactly as you were when you died. This is
not kind". It might be better to restore you to your aspect of
health."

"I can have no joy until I find my son, Gaw."

"Who?"

Orlene smiled. "He was named after his legal ghost
father, Gawain. Gaw for short, or Gaw-Two."

"Gaw," Jolie agreed, understanding. "Come, here is a
mirror." She stood, beckoning Orlene to a full-length
mirror set in the living wall. It was formed of level water,
tilted vertically; Gaea preferred natural things, with some
leavening of magic.




Piers Anthony

12

The woman looked, and was appalled. "I look awful!"
"Your grief caused you to waste away. You might have
died in due course even if you hadn't taken poison. But as
a ghost you may assume any appearance, and it would be

pointless to remain gaunt."

"But I have sinned by killing myself, and should pay

the penalty."

"By the existing standard, yes, you have sinned. But

your appearance can neither aggravate nor atone for that. If
you are to recover your baby, it may be best to assume an
appearance that does not advertise your grief. We may have

to query many folk."

Orlene, gazing at herself, seemed inclined to agree.

Like most lovely women, she was conscious of appear-
ances. "How can I—?"

"As you become experienced in your present condition,

you will gain proficiency in form changing. But for now,
why don't you just lie down and rest or sleep, while I
investigate the location of your baby? Think of the form you
wish to assume, and your body will gradually approach it."
"But I must search Gaw out myself!" Orlene protested.
"And so you shall! But there are queries I can make most
readily by myself, such as with the Purgatory Computer,
which is in a public region. Let me do this while you rest; I
promise that you will be the first to know anything I leam."

Orlene wavered. "Can the dead sleep?"
Jolie laughed. "The dead can do what they choose! I
slept for centuries when my husband associated with Hell.
I did not truly come awake until Gaea took me. I had much
to catch up on then! Part of it I learned while being your
friend, in your dreams, for you were a girl of the modern

world."

"My friend," Orlene echoed. "Those dreams—I forgot

them by day, but they were wonderful by night! We did so

much together!"

"So much," Jolie agreed. "It was almost like being

alive again."

AND ETERNITY          13

"And now I am dead," Orlene said sadly. "Already I
regret my foolishness. I wish I had had your advice, before
I ..."

"I wish I had been watching!" Jolie said. "It is my
fault as much as yours." Indeed, she felt the guilt! To allow
this woman, of all those alive, to die so pointlessly—Jolie
felt she had been criminally neglectful. She dreaded the
revelation she would at some time have to make.

"I think I will lie down," Orlene said. "So much has
happened! I never expected the Afterlife to be like this. It
will take time to adjust."

Jolie led her to a guest chamber in the residence. There
was a bed of roses, literally, fragrant and soft. "Rest, here,
and I will return shortly," she said. "Remember, you are
absolutely safe here; no one, mortal or immortal, will
intrude. Only Gaea and I can enter without challenge—or
those we bring."

Orlene lay in the bed. The bright petals rose up around
her like the decoration on a fluffy quilt. She closed her eyes
and in a moment was asleep.

Already she was looking better. The deep lines on her
face were easing, and her gaunt body seemed to be filling
out. She had been beautiful, very like her mother, and soon
would be again.

Satisfied, Jolie faded out of the scene.

She went first to Gaea. This was easy to do; she merely
relaxed, and her home drop of blood hauled her in elasti-
cally. In an instant she was there.

It was a biological laboratory. Gaea had assumed the
form of a gallon of air, making her effectively invisible.
Jolie didn't have to bother; as a ghost she was naturally
invisible, unless she made an effort to manifest optically or
sonically. Only another ghost or an Incarnation could
perceive her now.

"Business settled?" Gaea inquired, spying Jolie.

"Only begun, it seems," Jolie replied. "My friend died




14                Piers Anthony

because she lost her baby, and she wishes to find him. I told

her I would help."

"By all means. You mean to check the Computer?"

"Yes, by your leave."

"Granted. As it happens, I have a spot of research
myself. Perhaps you could check that at the same time."

Gaea was always polite about her requests. The truth
was that she had complete power over Jolie, who was now
one of her staff members, but she never abused it. Quite the
opposite! It was possible that she did have research to
do—but as likely that this was merely a way of legitimizing
Jolie's mission. "Certainly. What do you need?"

"This is a genetic laboratory. The gene splicing is
routine, but the project isn't. They have, they think,
perfected a variety of fruit fly that will consume residual oil
pollution, and they are breeding it in sufficient number to
colonize the Gulf coastline where the spill of 'ninety-five
still festers. My concern is that a random mutation could
direct those flies elsewhere. Here is the key aspect of the
pattern; have the Computer run a check for possible
mutations within my specified tolerance." She held out a

ghostly pebble.

Jolie took the pebble, knowing that the pattern was
imbued; the Purgatory Computer would know what to do
with it. "I shall be back shortly, Gaea."

"And perhaps, thereafter, we shall make a visit," Gaea
murmured. "If you feel inclined."

"Always." They never spoke directly of this particular
matter; it was an understanding of long duration.

The Purgatory Computer had not been changed in
twenty years. At this point, the equipment of the mortals
was far more sophisticated. But the Purgatory Computer
had magic and personality, and it did the job, so there
was no push to replace it. Jolie had come to know it well,
in the course of her errands for Gaea; they got along just
fine.

AND ETERNITY          15

A GREETING, BRIDE OF SATAN, the screen printed as she
entered its main chamber.

"And half a greeting to you, obsolescent machine," she
responded cheerily. "Got a pain in your nuts and bolts?"

NOT UNTIL THIS MOMENT, GHOST GIRL.

"Watch yourself, or I'll kick you in your data base."

YOU CAN'T. IT WOULD BE ANACHRONISTIC FOR A
THIRTEENTH-CENTURY PEASANT TO KNOW THAT TERM.

"I leam quickly, you overachieving word processor."

ENOUGH OF THIS FOOLISH BANTER, EVIL EMISSARY.
WHAT IS YOUR WILL?

"Two items, you arrogant device. Run this sample
through your files and see what it matches." She fed the
pebble into a little hopper.

The computer blinked. THERE is A 15% PROBABILITY

THAT THIS WILL MUTATE INTO A FUEL-EATING SPECIES
WITHIN FIFTY YEARS. THE GREEN MOTHER WILL NOT LIKE
THAT.

"She certainly won't! How much damage would occur
if that happens?"

DEPENDS ON THE FUEL. BY THAT TIME THERE MAY NOT
BE A LOT OF CRUDE OIL LEFT, BUT IF THE FLY GOES FOR
SYNTHETIC OIL, THERE COULD BE A MAJOR DISRUPTION. IT
CAN BE EXTREMELY DIFFICULT TO REVERSE SUCH A COURSE,
ONCE ESTABLISHED.

"In other words, the mortals are playing roulette
again?"

AGREED, SORCERESS.

Jolie sighed. The mortal realm could be a real pain in
the buttock on occasion. But that was Gaea's problem; she
might elect to force a prior problem that would wipe out the
fly before it could mutate. The mortals would curse their
misfortune, not understanding that they were being pro-
tected from worse.

"Second item: the present location of the infant Gawain
Junior, otherwise known as Gaw-Two, who died ten mortal
days ago."

Piers Anthony

16 AND ETERNITY 17

NOX.

"What?"

THAT INFANT WAS TAKEN BY NOX, THE INCARNATION
OF NIGHT.

"Oh, my!" Jolie breathed. She had not anticipated that.
Usually babies were left to the Purgatory Playpen, because
it took some time for them to achieve independent function.
In the Playpen they could mature slowly; elsewhere they did
not. "What does Nox want with a baby?"

NOX DID NOT VOUCHSAFE THAT INFORMATION TO THIS
MACHINE.

Of course not! Nox allowed few to know her business.
She knew all of the secrets of the world, and kept most of
them. "Have you any conjecture?"

CONJECTURE: THAT BABY IS THE GRANDCHILD OF A
PERSON SATAN LOVES, THEREFORE OF PROBABLE INTEREST
TO HIM. NOX MAY HAVE SECURED THE BABY AS A LEVER.

"But Nox needs no lever! She can have her will of
Satan—or any male Incarnation—anytime she chooses. I
know, for I love Satan."

ADMITTED. IT IS AN INSECURE CONJECTURE. THE MOTIVE
OF NOX IS UNFATHOMABLE TO A MERE MACHINE.

"Or a mere ghost," Jolie said. "How may Nox be
approached?"

THROUGH THE REALM OF DREAMS—IF IT IS FEASIBLE AT
ALL.

That was what she had feared. This simple quest had
abruptly become a complicated one! Oriene was going to
have real trouble recovering her baby—unless the Incarna-
tion of Night chose to give him up.

and want to help her, so I asked her to sleep and resume a
more healthy form, knowing that she was completely
protected here."

"There is something you are not telling me," Gaea
said.

"Yes. If I may, I prefer to handle this myself, though it
may be complicated."

"Can it wait a few more hours?"

"Yes. It is better that she sleep until her recovery is
complete. And—" Jolie hesitated.

"And there is more you need to ascertain before she
wakes," Gaea said.

"Yes. In fact, I think my husband . . ." She did not
finish, as was their convention. Jolie's husband was the
current Incarnation of Evil, and all the other active Incar-
nations opposed him. Her marriage had been dissolved
when she died, and he had later remarried, so she had no
legal claim, but they chose to maintain an honorary desig-
nation. The truth was that there were private under-
standings—and Gaea was Satan's current spouse. This was
a technicality, and the marriage had never been formally
consummated, but the two were indeed in love, and had
been for the better part of twenty years.

Thus Jolie was free to go to Satan, but because she was
not evil, she was unable to manifest in his presence or in
Hell. Gaea, with the powers of an Incarnation, could go to
him, but did not because it would seem to be a conflict of
interests. Both loved him, and he loved both, but they were
unable separately to fulfill their desires. This was the origin
of the unspoken compromise.

"When it is done, ask him, and I will tune out," Gaea
said.

"Thank you. Orb," Jolie said gratefully. She used
Gaea's private mortal name only when especially moved.
What she could not say was that by her generosity and
understanding, Gaea was also sparing herself pain, for
Oriene was her natural daughter. She had been conceived




18

Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 19

before Orb became the Incarnation, and as an Incarnation
she had deliberately neglected to keep track of her child, so
that she would not be unduly influenced by purely personal
considerations. She had not asked Jolie to do so, but Satan
had, and that was what had brought Jolie to the child. Jolie
had developed many other associations, as well as her
program of observations of candidates for future Offices, so
it was by no means obvious that it was Orb's daughter who
had died. If Gaea had any suspicion, as she might when
seeing the sleeping woman so like herself in outline, she
kept it to herself. Jolie would tell her when the time was

right.

But if Gaea had reservations about knowing the identity
of her daughter, Satan had none. Orlene was the child of the
woman Satan loved, and therefore he had an interest. If
advice or action was needed, Satan would not hesitate to
provide it. That was an advantage to being unbound by

ethical considerations.

"I have appointments four hours hence," Gaea said.
"I will see that you return in time," Jolie agreed.
Then Jolie moved to Gaea and into her, superimposing
her ghostly essence on Gaea's solid one and animating
Gaea's body. She could do this only with the permission of
the living person and only with the active cooperation of an
Incarnation. She had it. Gaea became a resident soul, and
Jolie became alive in her stead.

She walked to the mirror. Her features shifted slightly,
so that her semblance became her own instead of that of the
host. Her clothing also changed, becoming that of her
ancient mortal state: a long peasant skirt and rough blouse,
unattractive in themselves, but becoming lovely because of
the excellent proportions of her body. Jolie lived again,

seventeen years old.

She drew on one of Gaea's powers of travel: she reached
up, grasped the invisible corner of a page of reality, and
turned it. Suddenly she was in the following page, which
was Hell itself. The body of the host was proof against it;

there was nowhere in the cosmos where Gaea could not go
if she chose.

She stood before a massive desk, and a somber male
figure sat at that desk. "Hello, Ozymandias," she said.

"Hello, Jolie," the ancient king replied. "Go to the
bower; He will be with you in a moment."

She nodded. They knew her in Hell, and knew her
business; no one here would bother her, and not just
because they were aware of whose body she animated. She
was Satan's lover, under his protection; woe betide the
demon who molested her! She was also the only good soul
they were likely to see here, and as such she was a
considerable curiosity.

Jolie had deeply regretted dying young, and had in a
fashion died again when Parry (as she had known him in
life) was seduced by the demoness Lilah, for Jolie had been
rendered unconscious by the presence of evil. But now,
protected by Gaea, she was able to enter this dread realm
freely, and she saw that it really was not evil in the way she
had imagined. Hell was a place of punishment for evil,
which was a different matter. The end purpose of Satan's
work was the clarification and purification of imperfect
souls, making them fit for Heaven, and in that fundamental
sense it was not evil. Thus it was that her former husband,
certainly a good man, was able to serve as the Incarnation
of Evil, and she was able to love him still.

She walked to the bower. She could have conjured
herself there, but she preferred to take her time and see the
sights. There were no tortures in this region of Hell, perhaps
by design; it was very like a giant hall, with curtains in the
likeness of towering flames, and executive demons hurrying
to and from the central command post. Ozymandias had
been installed by Satan decades or centuries before—she
had never inquired about the details—and had fashioned it
to resemble an infernal palace. It was actually rather grand.

The bower was a modern apartment, replete with
conveniences. Once the door closed, it was impossible for




20

Piers Anthony                                        AND ETERNITY

21

an occupant to distinguish this retreat from one in the mortal
realm. Both Jolie and Orb preferred it this way. She entered
and sat on the plush bed.

Why was it, she asked herself, that to a man a liaison
was always sexual? She would have been glad to come and
chat with him about old times and new, requiring nothing
more than time in his presence and maybe a kiss or two. But
she knew from experience and observation that this was not
the way of a man. He would not be good for much dialogue
until he had completed intimacy. Well, thanks in part to the
power of the Incarnation and in part to experience and in
part to the sheer abandon of love, she was able to accom-
modate him readily enough. Her imperatives might differ
from his, but she did enjoy these visits.

He appeared. He seemed to be about twenty-five years
old and more handsome than she had known him in life.
This was because he had chosen that age when he assumed
the Office; he had been only eighteen when she died. He had
developed confidence and aplomb in the ensuing centuries,
and garnered a great deal of experience. She hated to admit
it, but the demoness Lilah had been good for him, fashion-
ing him into a very fine figure of a man in both appearance

and action.

"Ah, Jolie!" he said, and the manner of the utterance
sent a thrill through her, as it always did. He sat beside her,
and put his arm around her, and drew her in for a kiss, and
her heart went out to him, as it always did.

The man has magic. Orb thought, sharing the feeling.
Their pretense remained, outwardly, but the inner truth was
that both of them loved this man, and both thrilled to his
touch. They forgot their disinterest in the purely sexual
aspect, and soon were taken by the joy of the experience,
thrilling to his penetration and culmination with much the
same verve he expressed. There was indeed joy in sex,
when it was right.

"I have only one regret now," he said as they lay
cooling. "We can never have children."

That reminded her. "I have something to ask you,
Parry," she said. As she spoke she felt Orb fading out,
granting her the privacy she had requested. She could speak
freely now, and her host would not overhear.

"Anything, my love," he replied, kissing her hand.
"Orlene is dead, and I must help her. She—"
"Orlene?" he demanded, recognizing the name.
Then Jolie was weeping. She had held it back, needing
first to help the newly dead soul, then to run her errands,
then to mask her emotion from her host. Parry held her
close, but his body was shaking; he was affected much as
she was.

Haltingly, she described the events leading up to Or-
lene's suicide, and her determination to help the new ghost.
It helped her grief to be able to express it to one she knew
understood. For Parry loved Orlene too—because she was
his stepdaughter. Jolie had not reported to Gaea, but had
reported to Satan, and for ho evil purpose.

"So Gaw-Two was taken by Nox," she concluded. "I
must find out how to approach the Incarnation of Night."

"I have had contact with Nox," he said. "She alone
could have taken me from the demoness at the height of my
passion. I dare not approach her, lest she take me from
you." He spoke without the inflection of godhead, prefer-
ring to be Parry for this private tryst. "But I can give you
some advice. Look for her in the region of chaos, where
Clotho goes for new thread, but turn to the side before chaos
is complete. If you get lost, call for help; there is one who
will answer."

"But suppose we can't find Nox?"

"You will find her if she chooses to be found. If she
chooses otherwise, you are helpless. But I suspect she will
let you approach."

"The Purgatory Computer conjectured that she means
to use the baby as a lever against you."

"Nox needs no lever against me! I am a major Incar-
nation, but I exist by the sufferance of Nox, as do we all.




22                Piers Anthony

She predates us, and can foil our powers whenever she

chooses."

"But she has no power by day! She is only of the

night!"

"She can influence us in devious ways. She has chosen

not to, but there is night in all of us. She understands us far

better than we understand her."

This was not reassuring. "Can it be coincidence that she

took this particular baby?"

"Hardly. She has a purpose—and perhaps she will tell

you, if you go to her. She may have taken the baby for that

reason: to bring you to her."

"So maybe we'll find her—but not be happy when we

do," Jolie concluded.

"That is my fear. But you will have to ask."

"We will have to ask," Jolie agreed.
"Have you told Orb?"

"No."
"That is best, for now," he agreed. "If Nox's purpose

is not malign—and she has no need for malignancy—then it

may be better to talk with her first."

' 'I hope so. Oh, Parry, I never knew the baby, but I hurt

for Orlene! I wish I had been watching when—"

"Only Fate could have known—and I think she was not

watching, either."

Lachesis, the middle Aspect of Fate, was also Orb's

mother, and Orlene's grandmother. She did her job in the
way she saw fit, but certainly she would not carelessly
sacrifice her grandchild. If it had become necessary for her
to do that, she would have consulted with other Incarna-
tions, seeking some better way through. No, this seemed to

be a thing only Nox was involved in.

"I must go," she said. "Gaea has appointments, and

I—"

"You want to follow up on this," he finished. "Do

so, and keep me posted. I hope this is not more than it
seems."

AND ETERNITY

23

Jolie hoped so, too, but her fear was growing that it was
only the beginning. She kissed him again, dressed, and
turned the page back to the Tree.

She separated from Gaea, and Gaea woke. "Your
affairs are in order?" the Incarnation inquired with a partial
smile.

"Something complicated may be afoot," Jolie said
seriously. "May I take longer leave of you for a special
mission?"

"As you wish. Is there anything I should know, in case
your return is delayed?"

Jolie considered. She could not afford to say too much,
but it was only right to let Gaea know where she would be.
"I think we have to visit Nox."

Gaea gazed at her. Then, without comment, she turned
a page elsewhere, leaving Jolie alone with the sleeping
ghost.

Jolie went to the bedroom. Orlene looked much im-
proved; the restoration had proceeded nicely as she slept. It
had, of course, been enhanced by the Tree; all the things of
Nature were strongest here. Soon the woman would be
ready for the journey—as ready as it was possible for
anyone to be.

Jolie took a chair and allowed herself to fade out. She
would wake when Orlene did. Then there would be more
explaining, and a challenge of uncertain nature. Already the
mystery of it disturbed her; nothing like this had happened
Since she had joined Gaea.

Could this be an aspect of the great contest between God
and Satan for dominance of the mortal realm? She loved
Parry, but knew that in his guise as Satan he fully intended
to take power if he could do so. Yet even that did not seem
to make sense, for Nox had never before participated in this
eternal struggle. No, it seemed to be some incidental ploy,
of interest only to the Incarnation of Night, and secret from
all but herself. With luck, it would prove to be a harmless
diversion, something Nox was doing merely for amuse-




24               Piers Anthony

ment. Who could comprehend what might amuse such a

creature?

Jolie had little confidence in such luck. She slept

without truly relaxing. Her ghostly state made sleep unnec-
essary, physically, but she certainly could use something of
the sort emotionally!

2

NOX

"And so we shall have to brave the Void to locate Nox,"
Jolie concluded. "That seems to be the only way to reach
your baby."

"Then I shall go there!" Orlene exclaimed, brightening.
She was now as lovely as she had been at the height of her
mortality, though her grief and worry detracted somewhat
from it. "I thank you, Jolie, for your support and research;

you have given me genuine hope."

"We shall go there," Jolie corrected her. "I would not
send you alone to such a treacherous region."

"You have already done too much, my friend. You
must return to your interrupted task."

"My observations are ongoing and not immediately
pressing; this is more urgent."

"For me, yes, but it is not your concern. I would
not—"

"Orlene, it is my concern," Jolie said firmly. "I was
watching over you, and I neglected that, and you died."

"I took my own life!"

"Because your baby sickened and died—because his
genetic pattern had been changed, because your ghost

25




26 Piers Anthony

husband sought a favor from Gaea without reckoning its
consequence. I am Gaea's companion; had I been watching,
I could have warned her, and Gaw-Two would have been
spared. That is my guilt." That was only part of it; she had
let this happen to Gaea's mortal daughter! How could she
ever make up for that? She dreaded the inevitable time when
she would have to tell Gaea.

Oriene gazed at her and did not speak.

They left the Tree together. Gaea was off on another
mission; they did not see her.

There was an access to the Void at the edge of
Purgatory, the one used by Clotho when she went to fetch
more thread. They followed the road, and then the path,
through a dense forest. The trees become so large and close
that they shaded the path, making it seem to be dusk. Their
gnarled trunks seemed to assume grotesque faces, the
sinister recesses staring out at the trespassers. Even Jolie,
who had become familiar with Purgatory and other aspects
of the Afterlife, found herself becoming apprehensive. How
was it affecting Oriene?

The great trees encroached further, their roots clutching
at the path like twisted talons. A trunk blocked the path ahead;

they had to squeeze around it, only to encounter another in
the way. Soon they were lost in the maze of dark columns,
unable to see far in any direction or to discern a coherent path.
Jolie was not at all sure she could find her way out naturally;

fortunately she could always revert to her home drop of
blood, heedless of the route between. If that became neces-
sary , she would clasp Oriene by the hand and bring her along.

The trees became gradually different. It wasn't just a
matter of species, but of realm; their trunks were assuming
surfaces and colors not seen in nature, such as tinted glass
or bluish steel. Their foliage became geometrical, each leaf
fashioned as if by compass and straightedge into circle,
oval, hexagon or square. Light came through, reflecting
from mirror surfaces and refracting through transparencies.
This was now a fairyland forest, with bright rays splaying
out from many nexuses, splendid in an unsettling way.

AND ETERNITY         27

The path became clear again—but it diverged. One fork
progressed into a region of disintegrating trees, some even
floating upside down, their colors inverted, too, with green
roots and brown leaves. The other fork wound toward some
kind of mountain. Perhaps both paths went there, for both
were devious, but would they rejoin?

The two women looked at each other. "I'm afraid my
expertise was left at the edge of the forest," Jolie said. "I

have never been into this region before. I have no idea how
to proceed."

"I see that one path is better used than the other,"
Oriene said. "Would that be significant?"

Jolie hadn't noticed. The new ghost was recovering her
mental acuity! "Clotho, the youngest Aspect of Fate,
comes here monthly to renew her supply of Thread, as I
understand it. She must use one path, and that one has
become worn."

"Does Clotho go to see Nox?"

"I don't think so."

"Then maybe the other one is ours."

Jolie shrugged. She had no better logic.

They took the path less traveled. It made its way toward
the mountain, which rose up monstrously as they ap-
proached. The peak was lost in cloud, and the base seemed
to delve down below the ground, as if it were no natural
configuration, but an alien object set within the scene.

"There is something strange about this landscape,"
Oriene remarked.

Jolie laughed. "You are just noticing? This is the fringe
of the Void, where the laws of reality start breaking down!"

"Apart from that," Oriene said. "So far we have seen
odd trees, but now—I don't know."

Jolie had to agree. The oddness was shifting from
quantitative to qualitative, as it were; the trees were
obvious, but now there was something subtle. "It seems to
relate to the mountain."

When they reached the base of the mountain they had
another clue: it was indeed set into the terrain. There was a

28                Piers Anthony

gap a handsbreadth wide between the land and the slope of
the mountain, and this was maintained below. The gap
extended as far and deep as they could see. It was as though
the mountain were a jewel set in the land and had contracted
slightly, leaving a space. If nothing were done, in time the
jewel would fall out of its setting and be lost. Meanwhile it
remained, and it seemed it was theirs to climb. The path
went up to the edge and on up the slope, neatly ignoring the

gap.

"Nox is there?" Oriene inquired, glancing up.

Jolie considered. "When Gaea is busy, or wishes to
make a point, she makes it difficult for others to approach
her residence," she said. "Even other Incarnations lack
power to approach her in her domain, unless she accedes.
Nox is by all accounts the most seclusive of Incarnations, so
perhaps this is her challenge that keeps away intruders. If
so, then it means we are on the right path."

Oriene grimaced. Even in that expression she looked
better than she had been when grieving for her baby. The
challenge was taking her mind from her personal problem,
and that was good. "Then we had better get moving."

They stepped over the gap and stood on the mountain.
The oddriess abruptly magnified; this was definitely an
unearthly structure! There was a vibrance about it, an
animation not as of life but as of an awakening machine
with sophisticated circuits. Suddenly Jolie was uncertain of
the security of her ghostly state; whatever was here seemed
competent to capture her spiritual aspect as readily as it
might have her physical aspect.

Oriene, too, hesitated. "Something about this," she
said. "I feel a power I don't trust."

"The power of an Incarnation, perhaps," Jolie agreed.
"Sometimes Gaea manifests physically in the mortal realm,
and when a mortal becomes aware of her, he is awed by her
mere presence. This feels somewhat like that. An Incarna-
tion is to ordinary folk what a mountain is to a molehill.
They have powers we hardly dare dream of. If this

AND ETERNITT          29

mountain is of Nox, she is aware of us, and we are in her
power."

"She wants us to desist?"

"I think if she wanted that, she would have removed the
mountain entirely, or made the path impenetrable. No, I
suspect this is merely her warning: we are in her territory
now, and must obey her rules. She will let us proceed if she
chooses."

Oriene gazed up the slope. "You say she is the
Incarnation of Night, yet this is light."

"I confess I don't understand this aspect, but surely we
shall be in darkness before we reach her."

"Let's hope it is only physical."

Then Oriene noticed something in the path. It looked
like a stick, jammed in so as to stand vertically. But it
wasn't natural; the upper end was shaped into a handle.

Jolie reached down to take it, but her hand passed
through it. "An illusion!" she said, hardly amused. In a
sense, everything here was illusory, including themselves,
but so far it had all been in a common framework,
interacting as if physical. She didn't want the confusion of
layered illusions.

"You mean it isn't real?" Oriene inquired, reaching for
it herself. This sort of thing evidently remained a novelty to
her.

"It's real, just not on the same plane—the same level of
being," Jolie explained. "There are an infinite number of
planes of being, and the Incarnations can craft them to their
needs. We, as ghosts, are on one plane, and seem solid
here, but not on Earth. It depends. This must be Nox's
doing."

Orlene's hand touched the stick. "But it's real!" she
exclaimed. Her fingers closed about the handle and she
drew it out of the ground. "A wand!"

"A magic wand!" Jolie agreed, trying to touch it and
failing again. "One only you can wield!"

"But what can I do with it? I know nothing about this!"




30                Piers Anthony

"It must have been left for you. This may be Nox's
invitation for you to proceed. The wand may be the key to

progress when some barrier appears."

"You mean I wave it and magic happens?" Oriene

waved it experimentally. Nothing happened.

"You may have to invoke it," Jolie offered, "But it's

best not to play with unknown magic. Keep it with you, and

invoke it only at need."

Oriene nodded. "I have magic, but it doesn't focus on

inanimate things. I can't tell whether this wand is good or
evil or neutral, but I suppose I would be foolish to set it

aside until I discover its purpose."

"I think so," Jolie said. "Nox evidently has something

in mind for you." She was reassured by this evidence, but
not completely; if Nox was watching them and wanted them

to proceed, why the mystery?

They moved on up the path. In this region they seemed

solid and alive, for this was at the fringe of Purgatory, but
they did not get hungry or tire in the way a mortal might.
They made good progress, following the path in what they
hoped was a spiraling ascent. It might have been more
direct to go straight up the side, but there were loose rocks
and steep faces and prickly briars that seemed worth
avoiding. They were both dressed in light blouses and skirts
and comfortable slippers, having no way to anticipate what
they might encounter in their approach to Nox. So far, this
was good enough. Jolie had expected to conjure whatever
outfits they required, for the magic she had learned in life
remained with her in death, and indeed had grown with
experience. But when she had tried to conjure sturdier
walking shoes, it hadn't taken; it seemed that Nox banned

magic other than her own here.

Oriene paused, listening. "What is that sound?"

Jolie concentrated. There was a faint humming or
buzzing in the distance, getting louder. "Bees?"

"Do bees swarm in the Afterlife?"
"I never heard of it. Bees and most other creatures seem

AND ETERNITY

31

to have their own Afterlife, which only rarely intersects
ours. This could be one of those intersections, though."

"If we remain perfectly still, they should pass without
molesting us. Norton was a man of the wilderness; he
educated me on the beauties of nature."

Norton was her lover, in life—the one who had sired her
baby. He had arrived just as Jolie guided Oriene away from
her dead body. Jolie kept silent, so as not to encourage
saddening memories.

The noise increased, developing a rattle. That didn't
sound like bees!

Then the source came into view: a cloud of things that
jumped and fluttered and descended. There seemed to be
thousands of them.

"Locusts!" Oriene exclaimed. "I thought those were
abolished decades ago!"

"The rules are different here," Jolie reminded her. "I
think we'd better hide."

"But locusts eat only plants!""

"Among the mortals." Jolie headed for the bushes
beside the path.

Oriene hesitated, then followed her example just as the
vanguard of the swarm arrived.

The insects landed and began to chomp. The foliage of
the bushes disappeared. In a moment the locusts were
dropping onto Jolie and chomping at her clothing.

She couldn't help herself; she was revolted by the
contact. "Away!" she cried, brushing frantically at them.
"Off! Off!" She hated to touch them, but hated worse to let

them touch her. She heard Oriene exclaiming similarly in
the next bush.

Then the locusts began to bite flesh. Jolie screamed, and
Oriene echoed her. Both leaped out of their bushes, flailing
at the horrible creatures. The locusts clung, continuing to
bite; their feet hooked in, making it as easy to crush them as
to remove them. More descended, cloaking the women with
their loathsome bodies.




32

Piers Anthony

"The wand!" Jolie cried. "Try it now!"
"I invoke you!" Orlene screamed, waving the wand

violently.

A cloud of darkness formed around the tip of the wand.
It spread rapidly, enclosing Orlene and the locusts, then
Jolie. It became night around them, complete with stars.

There was a wrenching of the cosmos. Jolie felt herself
turning around and over and inside out, painlessly, but with
vertigo. The biting stopped. The locusts were gone. The
vertigo was evidently too much for them.

The cloud of darkness dissipated. Light returned, pen-
etrating as the thickness of the darkness eased.

Jolie found herself on a slope—but the mountain had
changed. It was now alien. No—it was a mountain-sized
depression! They were standing on the slope of a roughly
conical pit. Yet, oddly, it wasn't dark in its depths; it was
lightest at the base and darkening at its rim.

Rim? Jolie looked upslope—and spied a giant dome.
This was not a pit, it was a closed cave!

Beside her, Orlene was gazing around with equal
wonder. "Like the inside of a tremendous diamond!" she

said.

Jolie had to agree. The walls of their prison were

faceted, and the whole was like an elegant cut. How had

they come here?

Again Orlene fathomed it first: "The dark cloud—it
phased us into the mountain!" she exclaimed. "We are

inside the mountain!"

"But then it's upside down!" Jolie said. "Narrow at the

base and broad at the—"

"It isn't, we are!" Orlene said. "We were climbing
toward the point; now we are descending toward the point.
We're inverted—inside and upside down."

Indeed, it seemed to be so. "That was one impressive
bit of magic," Jolie said. "The wand got us away from the
locusts by phasing us into the mountain, where they

couldn't go."

AND ETESNITT          33

"Well, you did tell me to use it at need!"

They contemplated each other. Their clothing was
tattered but still serviceable. Their skins were abraded, but
not seriously damaged. The locusts had not been able to do
a lot of damage in the few seconds they had had.

"Do you suppose the wand can conjure us back out-
side?" Orlene asked.

"That seems likely. But maybe we should descend to
the peak of the mountain first, then go out. That will save
energy and danger."

Orlene nodded agreement. They resumed their travel,
following the same path they had, but from the other side:

a slightly raised surface. Indeed, all of the local contours
seemed to be the same as those of the outside of the
mountain, with the exception of the living portion: the
grass, brush and trees. The outcroppings of rock were pits
here, and the depressions were mounds. On the larger scale
this was an evenly faceted surface, but on the immediate
level it was highly varied.

In fact, it seemed to be such a perfect inversion of the
outer surface of the mountain that increasingly Jolie won-
dered about it. She had thought the mountain was a shell,
with an inside and an outside, and that the wand had phased
them through that shell and put them on the inner surface.
But such a mold had no need to be identical on inside and
outside, and indeed was unlikely to be. In fact, it might be
close to impossible on a scale like this; such a thin film,
following the exact surface of a mountain, should quickly
collapse unless soundly buttressed on one side or the other.
This one wasn't buttressed outside or inside.

"Something funny about this," Orlene said. "I'm not
sure we're inside a hollow mountain; I think we're part o/it. *'

"We'd be embedded in it!" Jolie said, laughing.

"No, somehow we're reacting to the rock and earth—
the solid inanimate parts—as if they are air, while the air is
like rock to us now. Gravity is reversed too; we're trying to
fall away from the planet, but the air is stopping us.

34 Piers Anthony

Normally we're trying to fall into the center of the planet,
but the ground stops us."

"But we're not on the planet," Jolie pointed out. "We're
at the verge of Purgatory, which is nowhere in relation to the
planet, but might be pictured as a two-dimensional plane
somewhere between Earth and infinity. We seem solid here
because our ghostly state has better definition; it's an illusion,
for we have no three-dimensional solidity."

"Oh, I forgot about that! I'm still thinking in mortal
terms. Sometimes it's hard to believe I'm really dead."

"Your body is dead; your soul lives on. But I think you
have helped me answer a confusion I was having. I thought
this big diamond structure should collapse because it isn't
supported on either side, but of course I was thinking in
mortal terms. The rules here are those of Purgatory and
illusion; this structure is as Nox made it, and there is no
point questioning it."

"So it really can be us assuming a solid semblance,
because if Nox defines the rules of interaction, that's how it
is. A dream world."

"Yes, it really can be." Jolie glanced at her, bothered
by something else, but not sure what. Oriene didn't seem
quite the same, but Jolie wasn't certain that she had
changed. Maybe it was just this altered perspective again.

They resumed their descent, but were shortly interrupted
by something new. The ground, such as it might be, was
shuddering.

They looked around, alarmed, and spied motion across
the pit. Something was moving, sliding across the surface
like flowing water. The effect spread around the pit, toward
them.

"Avalanche!" Jolie exclaimed. "Or a snow slide, or^
something."

"Maybe water?" Oriene asked, peering at the stuff. It
seemed to sparkle.

"We've seen no water here before," Jolie said. "But it
does seem to move like it."

AND ETERNITY

35

Then the effect reached them. Fine powder sifted down
by their feet, and by the sound of it, more was on the way
from above.

"That's not water," Oriene said, bending to scoop
some with a hand. "It's dust, or—ouch! It prickles!"

"That's glass!" Jolie exclaimed. "Ground glass! Or
diamond dust! Don't breathe it!"

Oriene dropped her handful with alacrity. "But in a
moment it will bury us!"

"Use your wand! We have to get out of here!"

Oriene whipped out the wand and waved it. "I invoke
you!"

The darkness formed, expanding as it had before. In a
moment it encompassed them. The vertigo returned.

It passed. As the cloud dissipated, Jolie saw that they
were back on the outer mountain, amid the bushes, but
higher than they had been. Their progress inside translated
into progress here.

Oriene rubbed her fingers cautiously together. "No
more glass," she said gruffly. "Or diamond dust. Wish I'd
had a bag to save some of it!"

"That's a relief! Apparently the things of the inside
can't follow us out, any more than the things of the outside
can follow us in. The wand is attuned to us alone, by Nox's
order."

"Must be," Oriene agreed in that same gruff voice.

Jolie looked at her. Now she was sure: the woman had
changed. She was using a lower tone, and she seemed a
little larger than before. Indeed, her body was more robust.
What was happening to her? Jolie decided not to comment
until she had a better notion. It might be part of the
strangeness of this mountain.

They proceeded up, following the path. But before long
there was another threat. A giant bird was coming down the
slope, standing taller than either of them, with muscular
legs and a thick, ferocious beak.

"What is that?" Oriene asked, taken aback.

36               Piers Anthony

Jolie was amazed. "I've had opportunity to do some
research into this and that, over the years. That looks like
one of the big flightless predator birds of prehistoric
times—Diatryma, maybe."

"Is it friendly?"

"Unlikely. They were fearsome hunters."

Orlene glanced to the side. "Maybe I can fight it off

with a stick."

"Don't try it!" Jolie cried, aghast. "They strike forward

with their legs, to disembowel! Use your wand!"

Orlene hesitated, then brought out the wand. As the bird

charged, she invoked it.

There was a harsh, angry squawk. The bird plunged at

the expanding darkness. For a moment the malevolent head
projected next to Jolie's own. The great beak turned to
orient on her face, but Jolie was already ducking down into

the cloud. She felt the vertigo.

In a moment they were back inside the mountain and the
big bird was gone. Now it was certain: only those for whom
the wand was intended could use it. Orlene was the only one
who could touch it or invoke it, and Jolie was the only other
one it transported. Otherwise the bird would have come
with them, for most of its body had been within the cloud.

"I'm going to find a weapon," Orlene said. "I don't

want to be caught short again."

Jolie looked at her, dismayed. Now her face was
changing, losing its beauty. The jawline was stronger, and
there was a shadow at the chin. Was she reverting to some
primitive form? Still, it seemed best not to comment, for

there was nothing positive Jolie could say.

Fortunately there was nothing suitable as a weapon.
"Damn!" Orlene grunted. "Well, when we go back
outside, sure as hell I'll get something."

She was swearing now. She never had before, being
indelibly feminine. That suggested a personality change
keeping pace with the body change. Was something similar
happening to Jolie herself? She didn't feel different, but

AND ETERNITY          37

then Orlene didn't seem to feel different either. It was surely
Nox's doing—but why?

As they descended, with Orlene setting a brisk pace,
Jolie continued to ponder the matter, ill at ease. Nox was
the Incarnation of Night, really an ancient goddess, mistress
of secrets and dreams and all things hidden. This was surely
a type of dream, crafted for the two of them. But why
should Nox bother? It would have been easy for her to make
herself entirely unapproachable, or to manifest before the
visitors at the outset. Why set this strange mountainous
challenge for them? What was the point?

Maybe it was a mischievous game. Parry, now Satan,
had mentioned her with a certain awe; it seemed that Nox
had a way with men that was not to be denied. Maybe the
Incarnation was having idle sport with the two women,
seeing fit neither to tempt them nor to banish them. If so, it
was getting cruel.

Something was happening, again. There was no sign of
the ground glass they had fled before, but as they got farther
down, the air was becoming warmer. Jolie saw Orlene
sweating, but her pace did not diminish. The woman now
had more muscle, and it seemed functional; she was braving
the discomfort of the heat as she might a private challenge,
showing that it could not daunt her. Jolie would have

preferred to avoid any such challenge, but saw no alterna-
tive.

"Sheesh, it's hot!" Orlene remarked, wiping her brow
with a handful of her tattered blouse, which she carelessly
yanked out of her waistband. That exposed her chest.

Jolie was appalled. Orlene had been full-busted, her
endowment masked only by her demure manner and con-
servative mode of dress. Jolie had helped get her dressed after
her recovery from her predeath emaciation. Niobe had been
the most beautiful woman of her generation; her daughter
Orb had fallen not far short of that, and her grand-
daughter Orlene was close enough. Now Orlene's bra was
oddly shrunken. At the same time the muscles of her




38               Piers Anthony

aims were larger. There was no longer any question: she

was changing.

There was a swirl in the air ahead. Dust was being

sucked into a whirlwind. Jolie recognized the phenomenon,
because of her association with Gaea: it was a heat vortex,
part of the mechanism for generating a quick storm. Gaea
controlled the elements, and could bring wind or rain or
draught to any region she chose. Uncontrolled use of the
tools of weather could be hazardous, especially to those in

the immediate vicinity.

"We'd better get out of here!" Jolie said. "We don't

want to get burned."

"What's with this place?" Oriene demanded rhetori-
cally. "It's one damn thing after another! Let's just see about
this twister!" She forged ahead, right toward the vortex.

"Wait!" Jolie cried, alarmed. "That thing's danger-
ous!"

Indeed, the vortex wasn't waiting to be approached; it

was moving right toward them, its winds screaming.
Oriene's hair whipped about, and she almost fell as the blast
caught her. The wand fell from her pocket and bounced on

the ground.

"The wand!" Jolie screamed. "Get the wand!"
Oriene saw it. "Christ!" she grunted, diving for it. She

caught it. "Invoke!"

The dark cloud formed. The raging wind had no effect

on it. Soon they were both within it and wrenching back to

the exterior realm.

They were closer to the summit, but Jolie was no longer

concerned about that. She was in serious doubt whether this
mission should proceed. Not only were the dangers getting
worse, Oriene was still changing. Now she was not at all

feminine. In fact—

"Oriene!" Jolie exclaimed. "Have you looked at your-
self?"

Oriene glanced at her with irritation. "What are you

talking about?"

AND ETERNITY          39

"You've been changing! The farther we go—no, it
must be the wand! Everytime you use it, it—"

"Quit stuttering, woman! What's the matter with the
wand?"

"It makes you more like a man," Jolie finished,
horrified as she realized the direction it was going.

"For chrissake, girl, stop talking nonsense! We've got
to get on with this before something else happens."

"Didn't you hear me? That wand is changing you into
a man!"

"And you into a monkey!" Oriene retorted, laughing.
She started up the path, striding strongly. Her hips had
narrowed and her feet grown, making her better at this.
Apparently her shoes did not bind.

Jolie stood for a moment, appalled. Oriene refused to
recognize how she was changing!

They were looking for Nox, Mistress of Night. This
must be a dream sequence, where the most outrageous
situations were accepted as given. It was Orlene's dream;

Jolie was merely an observer. Thus it seemed that only Jolie
could see what was happening.

Should she urge a retreat from this mission? That would
probably be wasted effort; if Oriene couldn't see the
problem, she wouldn't act to abate it.

Jolie hurried after, soon panting; she certainly wasn't
changing! She lacked the muscles and imperative to stride
boldly onward. But she was afraid of letting Oriene walk
into Nox's den alone.

Another menace appeared. It looked like a mountain
goat, but it had three horns—and three legs. Two in front,
one in the rear, in each case. Others of its breed followed;

there was a flock of them. There was no way to avoid them
on this narrowing mountain.

"I've had just about enough of this crap!" Oriene
snapped. She stepped off the path, took hold of a
struggling sapling, and wrenched it down. Its roots twisted
out of the ground, spraying dirt. Oriene gave it another




40

AND ETERNITY

Piers Anthony

41

jerk and the remaining roots snapped. She had a
serviceable staff.

She turned to face the tri-bucks. "Now charge me,
dogmeat!" she cried. "You'll get roots up your nose!"

Jolie, breathless from running, was unable to speak. She
was amazed at the strength Orlene had shown in ripping out
the tree, and at the sheer aggression she was showing. But
there were too many of the odd creatures to fight!

The first creature charged. True to her word, Orlene
countered it with the rooty end of her pole. The front pair of
horns rammed into the roots and shoved the pole back.
Orlene, at the other end, was pushed down the path,
cursing. The creature tossed its head, throwing the staff
clear, and resumed its advance, the others close behind.

"The wand!" Jolie gasped.

Oriene's lip curled into a snarl, echoed in her throat, but
she did bring out the wand. She evidently wanted to fight,
but appreciated the odds against victory, so gave way
grudgingly. That was, of course, the man's way.

The cloud appeared. In due course they were back
inside the mountain, on the descending slope.

Jolie didn't want to look, but had to. Her fear was
confirmed: Orlene was another stage more masculine than
before, being larger, hairier, and now proportioned like a
man. The exposed bra hung pointlessly; there was muscle
rather than mammary flesh there now. Was her genital
anatomy changing similarly? Jolie was sickly certain that it
was.

"Well, come on, cutie, we're almost there," Orlene
barked. She forged on down.

Cutie? Jolie liked this least of all. What was Nox trying
to do here? What was the point in turning a nice young
woman into a brutish man? Was it a joke? It certainly
wasn't funny!

Near the bottom of the pit they encountered another
hazard. It was cold here, the heat of the prior session gone
as if it had never existed. Ice appeared—but it did not stay

in place, it moved. Glaciers were developing in the angles
between facets, flowing as if liquid, but they were solid. Ice
was coming down behind them and wedging together ahead
of them. They tried to climb over it, but it was slippery and
numbingly cold.

"Damn it!" Orlene exclaimed, slamming a fist into it.
A slight patina of cracks appeared at the point of contact,
signaling the power of the blow, but that was all. "What is
the point of this interference?"

She perceived the external threats but not the internal
one! "Nox is playing with us," Jolie said. "Incarnations
can be cruel."

"Well, I want to tackle her face to face!" Angrily,
Orlene invoked the wand.

When the cloud cleared, they were almost at the peak.
The bushes surrounded a small bare region. That was all.

Orlene was now completely male; no vestige of femi-
ninity remained, except for the tattered and incongruous
clothing. She even had a light beard. But she—Jolie found
that designation anomalous, but refused to concede the
inner reality of the change—still refused to acknowledge
her situation.

Orlene tramped on up to the top. "Well, at least there're
no monsters this time," she muttered with rough satisfac-
tion. "But where's Nox?"

Jolie followed. "She may not be here at all. This may
merely be her diversion for us, a dream sequence that
expends our energies but leads only to futility. The Incar-
nations can have unusual ways to—"

"Don't give me that noise! I came here to see the bitch,
and I'm going to see her! Where is she?"

What an ass her companion had become! But it was
pointless, and quite possibly dangerous, to dally here
longer. They were in Nox's power, and if they affronted the
Incarnation, things could get much worse.

"Nox won't see us unless she chooses to," Jolie said
carefully. "I think we should accept the fact that she's not




42               Piers Anthony

interested, and get off this mountain before we annoy her."
"Listen, doll, whose side are you on?" Orlene de-
manded. "I didn't come here just to quit! Where the hell is

Nox?"

"This isn't wise!" Jolie said pleadingly.
But Orlene turned with masculine arrogance and ges-
tured at the sky with a fist. "A pox on Nox!" she bellowed.
"Get your ass down here. Incarnation!"

Horrified, Jolie grabbed at Orlene's arm. "You

mustn't!"

Orlene turned, trying to shake her off, but Jolie clung.

She had to get them away from here before something

terrible happened!

Then Orlene's eye fell directly on Jolie. Her mouth

pursed appraisingly. "Say, I never realized what a piece
you are. C'mere, girl." Her muscular arm came around to

catch at Jolie's free arm.

Suddenly Jolie was being hauled in and lifted by a body

much stronger than hers. "What—?"

"Gimme a kiss!" And their faces were together.

"Stop that!" Jolie cried, amazed and dismayed. She
fought to get free, and managed to twist one arm away.

But Orlene didn't stop. She grabbed again, this time
catching at Jolie's skirt. Jolie tried to spin away, but the
hold on the skirt inhibited her motion, and she fell.

Orlene went down with her, pinning her to the ground.
There was no longer any question about the hidden anatomy;

it was male and functioning. Jolie realized that the situation
was already beyond protest; she was unable to dissipate in
ghostly fashion here, and she had either to fight free or fail
to. Why hadn't she taken warning when she saw the

changes occurring in her companion?

She could, of course, revert back to her drop of blood.
But would Orlene come with her—and if so, would she
revert back to her original form and nature? Jolie didn't dare
risk it. She fought, but knew she was losing.

Then a cloud formed, not black but white, its vapors

swirling internally. «What is this?»

AND ETERNITY          43

"Nox!" Jolie cried, recognizing the strange, soundless
way the Incarnation spoke. She had never seen Nox before,
but Parry had described it.

Orlene paused, looking up. "The bitch is here?"

«Come to me, man-thing.»

Orlene got up. She stared at the Incarnation. The mists
formed into a phenomenal woman-shape, naked and beck-
oning, with writhing tresses of vapor and two compelling
dark eyes.

Orlene walked into the shape, embracing it. Her loins
thrust and thrust again, and the form wrapped itself about
her. The face kissed her ardently. The merged forms floated
from the ground, not noticing in their preoccupation.

Jolie's amazement was admixed with disgust. Orlene
had tried to rape her, and now was having sex with Nox!
How could she ever forgive either of them for such a thing?
She had only tried to help a woman find her lost baby!

«There is much you do not understand^ Nox said to her
directly.

"There is much I do not care to understand!" Jolie
retorted, made bold by her shock.

«Here is part of it.»

Then Orlene emerged from the white cloud, her female
form restored. She stood there, her mouth opening in an 0
of wonder, horror and dismay.

Simultaneously, Jolie felt herself change. Suddenly she
lusted after the woman who stood before her, her passion so
compelling that it admitted of no interference. She strode
toward Orlene.

Only to be intercepted by the cloud. «Love me instead,»
Nox said. Her female aspect was the most utterly arousing
and inviting thing imaginable, making any human body
hopelessly crude and clumsy.

Jolie stepped into it, her member stiffening. She plunged
into Nox—and found herself floating, unable to achieve the
culmination. The frustration was maddening.

Then the cloud dissipated, depositing her on the ground.
«Remember!» Nox cautioned.




44 Piers Anthony

The two women stood looking at each other. Both were
fully female again, each appalled.

"Oh, Jolie," Oriene said. "I don't know what—I
cannot ask you to forgive me—I am so ashamed—"

Understanding was coming. "Nox made you into a
man," Jolie said. "And you were overwhelmed by male
passion."

"But you were my companion, my friend! How could
I—"

Jolie would not have understood, except for the brief
lesson Nox had given her. If Oriene, unwarned, had run
rampant, what of Jolie, who had seen it all—and run
rampant herself the moment the Incarnation afflicted her
with the same complaint? She was the one who truly knew
better, yet she had been helpless before her abrupt desire.

"It seems that men have passions that women do not,"
Jolie said. "I have indulged those passions in my own man
without ever really understanding their nature—until
now."

"But men do not—" Oriene faltered, unable to say the
word.

' "They have learned control. We did not have time. Like
a fire which bums out of control when untended—"

«Remember,» Nox repeated, her semblance returning.

"How can I endure this shame?" Oriene exclaimed—
and collapsed.

Jolie ran to her, finding her unconscious. For the
moment, that was a relief. "Why did you play with us,
Incarnation of Night?" she asked, no longer concerned
about manners.

«You have much to learn.» That, it seemed, was the
extent of the answer they were to have.

"She came to recover her baby, daw-Two," Jolie said.
"Please, Incarnation, return him to her, now that you have
humiliated us."

«I have her baby,» Nox agreed. «I lent her his semblance
as he will be when grown.»

AND ETERNITY

45

Oriene, stirring, reacted as if struck. Jolie, appreciating
her horror, interceded. "A man—like his father."

"No!" Oriene cried in anguish. "Norton is not like
that!"

"Like Gawain!" Jolie exclaimed, catching on. "His
genetics were changed!"

«Like Gawain,» Nox agreed. «As he will be, grown
naturally.»

"But he died of a genetic malady!"
«Which continues in his Afterlife.»
Oriene was horrified anew. "My baby—still diseased!
Out of control!"

«Leave him to me,» Nox offered. «I can control him.»
That was yet another horror. Oriene fainted again.
"Not that way!" Jolie protested, "Give him back to
her; we will cure him somehow!"

«Not readily. His soul has been tarnished; he can never
exist free without extensive revamping.»

"She'll do whatever needs to be done!" Jolie cried.
«Then you must obtain items from each of the current
major Incarnations,» Nox said. «Fail in any, and it is lost.»
"She won't fail in any!" Jolie promised.
«Here is the list. From Death, a blank soul, that the
spoiled one may be reimplanted on a clean sheet, lacking
the fatal flaw. From Time, a grain of sand from the
Hourglass, that time may be reversed for the transfer. From
Fate, a thread of life, to realign the one spoiled. From War,
a seed, to generate the violence inherent in man as a healthy
competitive spirit. From Nature, a tear, to restore animation
in the newly implanted soul. From Evil, a curse, to put the
fear of evil into the soul. From Good, a blessing, for this
can be done only with that blessing.»

Jolie listened, aghast. That was an impossible list!
But she couldn't give up on Oriene! "And when she
gets these things, then you will restore her baby to her?"
«Then will I restore him,» Nox pledged.
"She'll do it!" But Jolie, experienced in the ways of




46                Piers Anthony

Incarnations, knew that it would be the miracle of the
millennium if she succeeded. No wonder Nox had sought to
discourage Orlene, by physical and emotional challenge; it
would have been better if she had given up on her quest.

Then Nox faded out, and after her the mountain, too,
and great dark mists swirled up to mask everything. When
they cleared, the two were standing back at the fringe of
Purgatory, just before the path diverged from Clotho's path.
In fact, the path they had followed no longer existed.

3

VITA

Jolie literally dragged Orlene back to Purgatory proper, for
the woman had reverted to inchoate soul form, intent only
on drifting down to damnation. Her balance had been good,
and she had fought to remain as a ghost; now her balance
had shifted bad, and she no longer fought. But Jolie refused
to let her go—not until she had consulted with Gaea.

Once firmly in conventional Purgatory, Jolie was able to
make the jump directly to the Treehouse. She laid the limp
soul on the bed—but the moment she let go, it began to sink
through the bed, starting its journey toward Hell. She had to
grab it again and maintain her hold.

How could this have happened? Souls weren't supposed
to change their balance in the Afterlife! Not suddenly, like
this! They could have their evil ground out slowly in Hell,
or leached out gently in Heaven, but that took centuries. It
seemed that Nox had done more than merely tease the
woman!

Soon Gaea returned. "You seem to have a problem,"
she remarked, noting the flaccid soul.

"Nox teased us cruelly," Jolie explained. "She caused
my companion to become a man, who was then overcome




48 Piers Anthony ANDETERNITT 49

by his passion, and he tried to ravish me. For a moment she
changed me, too, and I too was overcome. I have been
attacked before, and have sinned before; I was able to
endure it. But my companion—"

"It isn't like Nox to tease without reason," Gaea said.
"She seldom concerns herself with our activities, and
seems to have little interest in them. There may be more
here than we understand."

"She did agree to help the baby—but gave an impos-
sible list of requirements. We would have to get something
from each of the Incarnations."

"It is also unlike Nox to bargain in such fashion. This
is strange indeed."

"Now this soul is weighted down with evil, and I dare
not let go. I feel responsible, for I was with her, encouraging
her to visit Nox, thus bringing this humiliation upon us
both. I don't want to let her go to Hell on such basis, after
she fought so hard to avoid Heaven so that she could help
her baby."

Gaea hesitated a moment. If she did not know the
identity of Jolie's friend, whom Jolie had carefully avoided
naming, she surely suspected. She was being circumspect in
her comments, speaking generally rather than specifically.
"Do you wish help in this matter?"

Here was the crux. Gaea could not help without discov-
ering for certain that it was her daughter at issue. How could
Jolie confirm that at this stage? Not only would it bring
personal grief to the Incarnation, it would represent a
conflict of interest.

"Forgive me, Gaea. I think I do need help, but I prefer
not to ask for yours. You have been generous in giving me
leeway here, and I do not want to inflict the consequences
of my error on you." Which was true, as far as it went.

"Perhaps another Incarnation?"

"Have I the right to ask?" What she meant was that
though Gaea would help because of Jolie's closeness to her,
other Incarnations might be more cynical. Jolie knew them

all, except God, and they all accepted her, but this was a
matter of courtesy rather than respect. They were apt to
consider her request seriously only if Gaea asked them
to—and Jolie didn't want to ask for that, either. What a
predicament she had gotten into, unawares!

"My mortal cousin Luna is an understanding person,"
Gaea said. "She might be able to advise you."

Jolie hadn't thought of that. Luna was the one, of all
mortals, most in touch with the affairs of the Incarnations.
She was related to several of them in one way or another, and
kept company with Thanatos. She was a Senator in the mortal
realm, and so had considerable power in both the mortal and
immortal spheres. She would be ideal for the kind of advice
Jolie needed.

"Yes," Jolie said gratefully. "I will ask her."

Luna lived at an estate guarded by a fence of iron spikes
and two hungry griffins. "Hello, Griffith!" Jolie called to
the red male. "Hello, Grissel!" to the female. The two
reared up on their hind feet and struck at the air in salute;

they remembered her. Because she was a ghost, they could
not have hurt her anyway, but she never made a point of
that.

She floated through the door, dragging Orlene's soul.
"It's me, Muir!" she called, for the guardian within could
touch her. Muir was a moon moth, a ferocious flying spirit
Luna's magician father had tamed for her before his death.
Like some demons, he could manifest physically when he
chose to, but he was mainly a protection against supernat-
ural threats.

Muir recognized Jolie and folded his wings. They
formed a black cloak around his insectoid torso, hiding his
formidable talons. Woe betide the one he attacked! He
remained hovering in the air despite closing his wings,
because he was not subject to mortal gravity any more than
Jolie was.

"Is Luna available?" Jolie asked.




50                Piers Anthony

Muir flickered. That meant he had darted to find Luna
and returned here so swiftly that the motion was barely
evident. He nodded his head briefly forward, his antenna
flexing: she was available.

Then Luna entered the room. She was a beautiful
woman of about forty, with brown hair. Jolie had wondered
before how the two almost-sisters, Luna and Orb, could be
so similar in other respects but differ in this one—and
suddenly, for the first time, she realized that Luna had dyed
her hair, or magically changed its color. All the women of
her family had honey hair of one shade or another, similar
to Jolie's own, through three generations; Luna must have,
too, as a child. Why had she changed it?

"Why Jolie," Luna said. "With a lost soul. You must
have come to see Zane." That was the private name she

called Thanatos.

"I have a problem," Jolie said. "I need advice, and I

think help."

"And not from Orb?" Luna inquired, lifting an eye-
brow. Her eyes were gray, like mist over a placid lake;

these at least were natural.

"May I speak in confidence?"

Now Luna realized that this was no casual matter. "You
know I cannot commit to that in any matter that affects my
objective. Does this?"

Her objective was to thwart the efforts of Satan to take
over either the mortal or immortal realms, and it was
generally known that there was a major crisis coming in
perhaps four years, where her action would be critical.
Satan had been trying desperately to nullify that situation
before it occurred, and all the Incarnations had battled him
to preserve it. Jolie, as the consort of Satan, therefore had
to be treated cautiously; she understood that. Her relations
with Luna and the Incarnations were positive, but she was
technically an agent of the enemy. Thus it was necessary
that Luna qualify any offer to help; she wouldn't help Satan
win against God.

AND ETERNITY          51

"I don't think it does," Jolie said. "Not directly. But if
nothing is done, it could bring mischief to both sides."

"Will you trust my discretion, if you tell me without my
prior commitment to confidence?"

"Yes." For Luna cared about Gaea as much as any
mortal could, having been raised with her in Ireland before
the one became the companion of an Incarnation and the
other became an Incarnation herself.

"Then tell me as much as you need to, as quickly as you
can." This was Luna's first indication that she had pressing
other business, but of course she did.

"I watched over Orb's daughter Oriene," Jolie said.
"She was doing well, raised by an adoptive mortal family.
She married a ghost and had a child by her lover, in the
ghost's name; this is a legitimate device among mortals
today, though technically sinful."

"Of course," Luna agreed. "I remember that Orb had
a child but could not marry the father; I am glad to leam that
that child did well."

"Not well enough," Jolie said, plunging on. "During
my inattention her baby was afflicted with a fatal malady.
After he died, she suicided, determined to join him. But she
was good and bound for Heaven, while he was in balance
and went to Purgatory, where Nox took him. I helped
Orlene's spirit go to seek Nox, but Nox turned her into a
man who tried to rape me and then had relations with Nox
herself. Now Oriene is burdened with evil and will not
struggle to stay out of Hell. I cannot tell Gaea, and dare not
let the soul go lest it be lost. I am convinced that Oriene is
not evil but was overwhelmed by the mischief of the
Incarnation of Night. I need some way to keep her here, as
a ghost, until she realizes this and will resume her quest for
her baby. Then she may be all right, and I can tell Gaea
without bringing her more grief than is warranted.''

Luna nodded. She possessed the lawmaker's ability to
grasp complex matters quickly. "This is not Satan's do-
ing?"

52

Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 53

"It is not his doing. It was his bidding that sent me to
Oriene when she was a child. He—when he and I were
married, as mortals, we had no child, and—" Then Jolie
was crying, caught off guard by the tragedy. Oriene had
been much like a daughter to her, as she watched her in the
way that Gaea would not. She cursed herself again for
relaxing at what turned out to be a critical time.

"It occurs to me that our interests may coincide," Luna
said gently. "I am organizing for the issue to come, what
may be the final showdown between Good and Evil of this
sequence. I have need of a soul to animate a mortal who is
in a similar state to Oriene's, for different but sufficient
reason. A soul that animates a mortal host cannot descend to
Hell until it leaves that host. Would Oriene be willing to
animate that host until the host recovers?"

"No. It is my will that holds her here, not hers."
"Then would you be willing to keep Oriene in that host,
and animate the host yourself, until you can persuade
Oriene to do it? This action would have a devious but
significant effect in the war between Good and Evil, so you
would be serving Good."

"But I am Satan's consort!" Jolie protested.
"Even Satan knows the meaning of honor—and so do
you. Satan cannot openly support your action in preventing
that soul from descending to him, but the forces of Good
have no such conflict of interest. Can you serve Good to this
extent, in order to buy time for Oriene to recover her

initiative?"

Jolie saw how cleverly this offer was designed. Satan

indeed did not want Oriene in Hell! He wanted her in as
good a situation as possible before Gaea learned of it. So,
just as Gaea would not openly consummate her marriage to
Satan, Satan would not openly support Good. But his
interest in this particular matter was the same as Gaea's—

and Jolie's.

"Yes, I can do this," Jolie agreed.
"It will not be easy," Luna warned. "I think it best not

to tell you the manner this relates to my interest, but you
will be charged with serving that interest as it becomes
apparent to you, until you leave that host."

"I agree to this," Jolie said.

"And I see no need to acquaint Gaea with what you
have told me, until there is a better resolution," Luna said.
"Now I must go, but Zane will be along presently, and he
will take you to the girl."

"I'll have to tell Gaea where I'm going."

"No need; she knows." Luna left.

Jolie stood, bemused. How could Gaea know? Then she
realized that Gaea's suggestion had not been offhand, about
seeing Luna. She must have cleared it first, or at least have
known that Luna had such a need. The Incarnations had
levels of communications that others hardly fathomed, and
Luna was in certain respects like an Incarnation.

She remembered, too, the first time she had animated
Gaea's physical body and gone to make love to Satan. It had
been nominally Parry and Jolie, as it had been so long ago
in life, and as such, wonderful. But it was also the secret,
forbidden consummation of Satan and Gaea, the Incarna-
tions of Evil and Nature. There had been only one direct
evidence of that which an outsider could have recognized:

when Satan had asked Jolie to thank the one whose body she
had borrowed, and Gaea had said in her own voice, "She
knows."

Luna had been similarly certain. But she had also agreed
to keep Jolie's information private, for now. So Gaea knew
that Jolie's business was serious and in good hands, and that
was enough.

She waited, hanging on to the limp soul, and in an hour
there was a sound outside. She looked out, and there was
Mortis, the beautiful, pale death-horse, trotting down
through the air toward the yard. The two griffins set up a
squawking of welcome. Mortis landed, the hooded figure
dismounted, and the animals sniffed noses.

Thanatos strode to the house. Jolie stepped through the




Piers Anthony

54 AND ETERNITY 55

closed door to meet him. She was, of course, used to his
skull visage; he was actually a living man, become the
Incarnation of Death when he killed his predecessor, and his
appearance was only his costume. "Luna said—"
"Yes. Are you ready?"

"Yes." There was that hidden communication again!
"It is not far from here. Ride with me."
Jolie followed as he returned to Mortis. The horse
became a pale car, somehow knowing his master's desire
unspoken. His master? Mortis had outlasted several Office-
holders! Jolie tried to enter the car but could not pass
through the substance; Thanatos had to open the door for
her, in seeming gallantry which was not mock. The asso-
ciates of the Incarnations had special qualities too; Jolie had
not realized that Mortis was ghost-proof, but it did not

surprise her.

"I understand Nox is involved," Thanatos remarked as
the car moved smoothly out of the grounds, self-guided.

"She made this person into a man and caused him to
attempt rape," Jolie replied. "Now her evil overbalances
her good and she is sinking, but I don't think it's fair."

"Her balance is positive, not negative," Thanatos said.
"She sinks only because she believes she is evil, but no
guilt should attach for a burden imposed by another party.
Is this not the one for whom you interceded so recently?"

"Yes, she is. I learned that the Incarnation of Night had
the soul of her baby, so I guided her there—and Nox played
a cruel game before agreeing to help. Even then, she set

horrendous conditions."

"That is not like her. She has been indifferent to mortal
and immortal affairs throughout my tenure. What conditions

did she set?"

"An item from each of the active Incarnations, to
facilitate correction of the malady of the baby's soul."

"What item from me?"

"A blank soul."

There was a pause. Then the skull turned toward her.

"If that is typical, the chances of completing that list are
minimal."

"But better that Oriene try, than that she give up hope,"
Jolie said, hoping it was true.

"Perhaps it is a deliberate diversion, intended to be an
endless quest for her."

"But why would Nox do that? She could have denied
the interview entirely if she didn't want to give up the
baby!"

"The Incarnation of Night is excellent at keeping
secrets."

He said no more, and Jolie didn't dare pursue it. She had
mentioned the item listed for him, and that was as far as she
could go on her own; Oriene would have to pursue it herself,
when she was able. Jolie's task was to enable Oriene to
resume her quest; then the decision would be Orlene's.

The vehicle halted. They were in a bad section of the
city of Kilvarough, where rundown tenements were sched-
uled for demolition in favor of modem megabuildings.
Thanatos led her to a grimy chamber where a teenage girl
lay sprawled asleep on a flimsy cot. "This is Vita," he said.
"She is a harlot being addicted to Spelled H. Her individual
volition is almost gone; she responds merely to the voice of
authority supported by force."

Jolie was aghast. "Luna has need of such a one?"

The grinning bare teeth seemed to grin further. "There
is a rationale. We did not feel free to ask any other to
undertake this task, for there is much discomfort in it, and
you may avoid it also."

"No, I said I would do it, and I will," Jolie said. "But
I can see that I won't enjoy it."

"True. I leave you, then, to your devices." He turned
and walked back the way they had come, in a moment
fading from view. Jolie knew that he had not truly disap-
peared; rather, he was not visible or memorable to anyone
who did not have reason to see him, and her reason had
passed. As a ghost she could perceive him far more readily




56

AND ETERNITY          57

Piers Anthony

than living mortals could, but even so, it was only because

he permitted it.

She walked to the sleeping girl, dragging Oriene's soul.
Prostitution and Spelled H—a combination for disaster! She
would have to do something about that immediately!

"Very well, Orlene," she said. "I will carry it at first,
but it is for you I am doing this." She embraced the soul

and stepped into the body.

She felt the effect of the drug immediately. The girl was
not in a natural sleep, but in a stupor. Jolie was not
conversant with the cycle of Spelled H, for the drug had
appeared centuries after her time, but she understood that its
effects varied with the dosage and the time following the
dose. Once a person was habituated to it, she depended on
it to be functional; there was a certain euphoria followed by
depression, which could be abated by another dose. Prop-
erly managed, it could keep a person in the pleasant
in-between state during the waking hours. Too much made
the addict hyper; not enough brought an agony that was not
merely of the body. Gaea had cured several musicians who
had been addicts, but short of direct intercession by the
Incarnation of Nature, few broke free. This would require

iron willpower!

Orlene settled into the host and found the mood com-
patible: hellhound. Jolie, freed of the need to hold on to
Orlene constantly, got to work on Vita.

"Up, girl," Jolie said, using the host's sodden lips.
"We're going to work off this high, or low, as the case may
be." She forced the limbs to move and the flaccid stomach

muscles to contract.

The host groaned and sat up. Jolie felt the spinning of
the senses and the pounding at the temples. This was
definitely a low! But she pressed on, making the host rise
unsteadily to her feet and stagger to the grubby toilet nook.
She ran water and splashed it on the face. Vita had vomited
recently, by the taste of it, and there were bruises on her
body: someone had been hitting her.

Jolie decided to go the whole route. She stripped off the
dirty clothing, then stepped into the shower cubicle. Cold
water blasted down, shocking her body. She gritted her
teeth and washed both body and hair as thoroughly as
possible without heat. The discomfort was more important
than the cleanliness, at the moment.

When she couldn't stand it anymore, she got out. The
water cut off automatically. Shivering, she went to stand
before the pane of glass that served as a full-length mirror.

This host was nubile, with hips and breasts that would
have been on the way to provocative fullness had bad eating
and bad living not interfered. The hair, too, could have been
lustrous, but seemed to have been hacked off at shoulder
level and otherwise mistreated. Bruises showed on the arms
and shoulders. By the feel of it, the men this prostitute
served had been urgent and rough and had not necessarily
confined their ardors to the genital region. There were no
scars or punctures on arms or legs, but of course that proved
nothing; there were oral, nasal and optic variants of the
drug.

The lethargy of incipient withdrawal remained. Jolie
spread the bedsheet on the floor and tried exercises: sit-ups,
leg lifts, curls and stretches. The body protested, way out of
shape for this, but again, the point wasn't health but effort.
Could exercise bum off the traces of the drug? She was
going to try it.

Actually, this was helping Jolie, too, for she was not
used to living flesh. She had been seventeen when she died,
and though that was considerably older then than it was
today, she had been long out of body. Gaea lent her body
for special occasions involving their common interest, but
the body of an Incarnation was in stasis and invulnerable,
not truly mortal. Vita's body was all too evidently mortal,
with the discomforts and weaknesses of mortality. Jolie had
to accustom herself again to keeping the body balanced
when she stood, so that it would not fall over, and to the
needs of ongoing processes.




58               Piers Anthony

That thought clarified one problem. She walked back to
the toilet and used it. Ghosts had no natural functions, but
mortals had to be constantly aware of input and outgo, or

their systems got into trouble.

Then she went to the food-storage section to find
something to eat. That was a waste of time; there was
nothing. Evidently this girl ate outside.

Jolie checked next for money. There was none of that,
either. Then she tested the door. Sure enough, it was
locked, and she had no key or admittance card. She was a

prisoner.

She wished she had paid more attention to the nature of

mortal life in the slum sections. As it was, she had little
notion how to proceed. How had this host come to such an

involuntary situation?

Jolie tried to contact Vita, but the girl's mind was

satisfied to let someone else do it. The drug had dulled her
awareness, but that was only part of the story; Vita had little
interest in facing reality. Perhaps that was just as well, for
now, because had she objected to Jolie's control, it would
have done her no good. The soul in charge of a host had
command and could not be involuntarily displaced. Had
Vita not been in a stupor, Jolie could not have taken over.

She checked next on Orlene. The case was similar there.
Jolie remained on her own; if she didn't do something,

neither of the others would.

Still, there might be something to be gained here.
Orlene, this is Vita. your host, she said internally, hauling
the spirit of the girl up. Vita, this is Orlene, who will be
animating your body for a while. She lost her baby son, and
died of grief, and suffered again after death. She can tell

you what it is like.

Who cares? Vita demanded, retreating.
Why don't you just let me sink to Hell, where I belong?

Orlene asked.

What do you know about Hell? Vita retorted. It has no

fear for me, after what I've seen on Earth.

AND ETERNITY

59

You haven't experienced what I have, Orlene said.
Yeah? Well, I don't want to know about it!

That ended the dialogue. Jolie shrugged her host's
shoulders. At least it was a beginning.

She had two ways to ascertain Vita's situation. One was
to establish enough of a rapport with the mind of the host to
learn it from her. The other was to pick it up from ongoing
experience. The latter seemed to be the choice.

She returned to the main chamber and resumed her
exercising. This time she ran in place, using the large
muscles of her legs to give her heart and respiration a
workout. It might be wishful thinking, but she thought the
body's tone was improving and the brain becoming more
functional.

There was a sound at the door. Then it burst open. A
neatly dressed thug stood there, staring at her with brute
disapproval. "What the hell you doing, running around
baretit?" he demanded.

Oops! Jolie had forgotten to don clothing after her
shower, that being another detail that ghosts did not have to
worry about. As a ghost she could assume any form,
clothed or unclothed, that she desired, merely by concen-
trating on it. Once she had learned how to do that, she had
done it so routinely that she was always garbed appropri-
ately. But the physical host needed artificial garbing.

The man was staring at her exposed torso, which was an
embarrassment. His face showed disgust, which was a
further embarrassment. Who was he—her captor?

Now the man strode forward, one hammy hand reaching
out to grab her shoulder. "Answer me, brat! What you

think you're doing? I didn't tell you to dance, I told you to
sleep it off."

"Sleep what off?" Jolie asked, twisting away.
Immediately the hand swung up and clipped her on the

side of the head, stingingly. "Don't sass me, blackass!"
Jolie was stunned both by the blow and the words. What

had she done to deserve the first, even assuming this man




60

PiersAnthony                                       AND ETERNITY

63

had authority over her? What was the meaning of the name

he had called her?

"Now get dressed good," the man said gruffly. "Got a
special John tonight, likes 'em young and lean and hurting,
so you can scream and cry all you want, but no claws and
no kicking. You get a sniff of H before so you can act
lively, and more after if you make him happy. But first you
eat; got to get more meat in your dugs so you can work up
to the big time." He strode to the shallow closet and
checked the dresses there. "This one—make you look as
young as you are. And a ponytail, and not much makeup.
Look like some jerk's niece. My niece, maybe. But don't
never forget you're just a whore. Come on, get it grinding.''
He shoved the dress at her.

At last it was coming clear. This was what was called a
pimp—a man who procured women for deviant customers.
Vita was young, and it seemed there was an illicit market
for sex with underage girls. The pimp was serving in lieu of
a parent—a bad one, to be sure, but perhaps doing better for
uer than she would do alone on the street.

The first thing Jolie had to do was get Vita out of this
trap. But she realized that this would not necessarily be easy
to do. With no information and no money, and under
constant lock or guard, her options were quite limited. So
she would have to play along for the time being, watching
her opportunity to make her break.

She dressed. The man actually did her hair, his fingers
surprisingly skilled. He did know his business, however
low that business might be. He wanted her to look childlike
and innocent for this role, so that the client would be
satisfied and pay well and return again on other days. It was
all quite close to the reality, except for the significant detail

of the sexual element.

She checked herself in the mirror. Now she realized that
Vita was of mixed blood, her skin light brown rather than
white. That explained one remark. To have any evident
black heritage was to be defined as all-black, logic to the

»(.
contrary notwithstanding. The Negroid element was slight

and showed not at all in the hair, which was brown and
straight, or in the facial features; makeup could have
eliminated it entirely. But to the pimp she was
"blackass"—as if it were literally true, and as if there
would have been any fault if so.

"Looking good," the pimp conceded grudgingly.
"Now you get your sniff, and I'll take you to meet him at
a classy joint. Eat what you can; you won't get more till
morning."

He brought out a small package of something. Jolie
realized it was the Spelled H—the magically enhanced
variant of an ancient addictive drug, far more potent than
the original. She couldn't afford to take that!

She sought to turn her face away as the pimp brought the
package up, but suddenly Vita's soul stepped in, seized
control, and sniffed deeply. Jolie wrested control back
immediately, but it was too late; the drug was in the host's
system. Already the exhilaration of it was spreading out
from her nose, encompassing her brain, and giving her
entire body a tingle of joy.

This is disaster! Jolie thought at Vita. You can't afford
this stuff! It will kill you!

But the girl, having gotten her fix, was satisfied. She
retreated into near oblivion.

Jolie intended to be on guard in the future. The
addiction was not yet complete; she should be able to fight
it off despite this setback. If she got the girl out of this
situation, there might be no further opportunity to take the
drug. Perhaps this slip was just as well; it had shown Jolie
how canny the seemingly passive girl could be, pouncing
during Jolie's momentary inattention. She would be on
guard against that henceforth. Also, it would have made the
pimp suspicious if she had refused the fix.

"Now we go," the pimp said. "Remember, any trou-
ble, no more H. That goes double for when you're alone
with him."




r

62

AND ETERNITY          63

Piers Anthony

The system was clear enough. The drug kept the girls
obedient, and the pimp supervised every aspect of the
business so that there were no errors. It was a living, of a
sort.

They walked out of the room and down the narrow hall.
Jolie could have run for it, but several things restrained her.
She did not know her way around this neighborhood, so
would not be able to hide quickly. The pimp was robust,
and could probably outrun her, and certainly could subdue
her when he caught her. Others here were more likely to
help him than her. And if she did win free, what would she
do alone on the street? Until she learned where Vita's home
was, and got money to travel there, she would be entirely on
her own resources, and they were forbiddingly meager. So
she still had to play along; her time was not yet.

There was a limousine waiting. It seemed the pimp lived
in style, even if his girls didn't. They got in and rode to
what was indeed a "classy joint"—a quality restaurant.
They were guided to a table already occupied by a fat,
extremely well-dressed man of middle age.

"This is my niece. Vita," the pimp said, nudging Jolie,
who smiled obligingly. "You show her the sights, call and
I'll pick her up, okay?"

The man nodded, his porcine eyes taking in the young
body. This was what he had ordered, certainly!

The pimp helped Jolie take the opposite seat. Helped?
His grip on her elbow was wamingly firm. She would
behave, or suffer more than H deprivation! Then he left the
restaurant, but she noticed that the limo didn't drive away.
He was still watching, making sure that she was committed.
Later, when her addiction to H was complete, he would be
able to relax, but this was still the training stage.

The meal was excellent, and she was famished. The
sniff of H had restored her appetite and evidently made her
sparkle, physically. The client seemed happy to have her eat
her fill; it was part of the avuncular role he relished. He
talked to her, telling her how he had always wanted a girl of

his own like her. Jolie realized with a shock that he wasn't
actually a bad man, but rather a man with an illicit hunger
for young flesh that he could indulge only in this manner.
Some slight and perhaps reasonable liberalization of the
laws would place him within the normal spectrum.

Ha! Vita thought from the depths. He's a closet ped-
erast, wants a boy but doesn't have the nerve to go for it, so
goes for young girls instead.

Jolie realized with another shock that Vita could be
right. She would have to make her break before they got to
the man's hotel.

They completed the meal. Her belly was full; she had
eaten too well, after too long a hiatus. "I better go
wee-wee," she said girlishly.

"In my suite," the client said. "I'll watch."

Now Oriene took note. What is this? she asked, horrified
out of her retreat.

They get a big thrill out of watching you do it. Vita
replied. Sometimes they take the stuff and smear it on you.
Anal fixation, it's called, or something. All I know is, it
stinks, but the H fixes it so you don't care.

And I thought rape was perverted! Oriene thought with
revulsion.

Vita laughed. Man can't rape a girl, when she needs the
money. Better to get it done fast, before he works up to
weird ideas—but not so fast he feels cheated.

But that makes it seem as if men are mere sex machines!
Oriene protested.

So what else is new?

Jolie realized that this was working out well, in its
strange way. Both Oriene and Vita were benefiting from
their limited dialogue, being drawn out of their private
miseries. But there was a long way to go before either
would be ready to resume normal functioning.

They left the restaurant. The client spoke to the door-
man, who whistled down a taxi carpet.

Jolie knew that once she got on that carpet there would




64 Piers Anthony

be no escaping, for it would deliver them directly to the
client's suite, which would be forty or more stories high in
a megabuilding. She really did need to use the toilet, but not
with him watching or perhaps participating! So, bloated or
not, she had to make her break now.

The taxi carpet sailed down and hovered at knee height.
It was shaped: the rear of it curled up to form a backrest,
while the front descended in an S curve to accommodate the
legs. Magic would hold them firmly in place while it was in
motion, as required by safety regulations. There was no
danger of falling off—and no chance to jump off, no matter
how low it might fly. The client sat on it, then heaved his
legs around and up to the front. His weight was such that
even the sturdy levitation spell gave way slightly and the
carpet dropped closer to the curb.

The doorman put out a hand to help Jolie board. Instead
she ducked under his arm and ran down the sidewalk. She
didn't care where she was going, as long as it was away.

"Hey!" the client cried. "Stop my niece!"

The doorman, ever obliging, lurched after her. Jolie
dodged around an approaching couple and ran into the
street. Tires squealed as a limousine braked to avoid her.

No—that was the pimp's limo! He had anticipated this
effort and was intercepting her. She was in trouble now!

/ could've told you that, ninny! Vita thought. You've got
to go along to get along. They know all the angles.

Now she was effectively boxed, the limo on one side,
the doorman on the other, and the carpet behind. If you're
so smart, how would you escape? Jolie demanded, not
expecting an answer.

But the girl surprised her. Apparently the urge to show
her superiority in this respect overrode her desire not to
aggravate the pimp, whose wrath would surely be fearsome.
/ would fool them by scrambling under the carpet, then run
into the restaurant and out the back.

Jolie couldn't improve on that! She feinted to the front,
and both limo and doorman lurched that way to cut her off,

AND ETESNITT          65

while the carpet advanced to close up the gap, hovering at
waist height. She reversed course and plunged toward the
carpet. She dived down below it, scrambling on hands and
knees in the gutter. That was good for neither her pretty
dress nor her knees, but excellent for surprise.

She regained her feet beyond it and bolted for the
restaurant door, which was now unmanned. She shoved in
and charged along the carpeted entry hall. The maitre d'
called to her, but she ran right on, seeking the back.

She found the passage the waiters used, and leaped
through it. Then she found the door that accessed the
kitchen and shoved through that. Now she was amidst the
tables and ovens where the food was being prepared.

"Get out of here, gamin!" a cook cried. "This is a
restricted area!"

She saw a door labeled EXIT and ran for that. She
pushed through and found herself out in the back alley,
surrounded by old-fashioned garbage cans and a Dumpster.
Where next? she thought, knowing that the pursuit would
soon appear.

Hide, Vita advised. The Dumpster, maybe.

But those get picked up regularly and taken to compac-
tors and furnaces! Orlene protested.

That's why nobody'II think to look there, dummy!

Jolie accepted the logic. She hadn't much choice. She
was panting, and felt ready to burst, and was afraid she
could not run much farther and would soon be caught if she
tried. At least she could rest in the Dumpster.

She climbed up its irregular exterior, heaved herself
over the top and dropped inside. She landed on a pile of
fresh garbage; the thing was half full. It seemed to be
mostly large lettuce leaves and fruit rinds, but there was a
good deal of semi-liquid meal leavings collected in the
bottom.

But they might look. Vita warned. Better cover up.

Jolie gritted her teeth, knowing that this was more good
advice. She squatted in a low spot and hauled in a pile of

Piers Anthony

66 AND ETERNITY 67

watermelon rinds to cover her. She hated to do it to her
dress, but she was committed now.

She heard voices outside, muffled by the walls of the
Dumpster and the garbage around her. That would be her
pursuers, searching out her route. In a moment someone
poked his head over the rim of the Dumpster. "Just garbage
in here! What a smell!" he called, and moved away.

The sounds died. Don't get out yet! Vita warned.
They'll hang around awhile, waiting to see if we come out
when we think they're gone.

You're very canny, Jolie remarked.

/ learned a lot in a hurry, after I ran away from home.

You ran away? Why? Here was key information!

None of your business. Vita retreated.

So much for that. Jolie was animating the body, but it
would take her a lot more time than she could afford to
access the memories on her own. She depended on the
host's cooperation, and this had been invaluable as far as it
went, but it was limited.

But now, waiting, she became aware again of her need
to relieve herself, after the big meal. She didn't see how she
could remain quietly here for any length of time without
taking care of this detail.

Do it here, Oriene suggested. We can't get any dirtier.

Apt notion! Jolie shifted that minimum necessary to get
her panties down, and proceeded to add to the garbage.
Certainly the smell would not betray her here!

When about half an hour had passed without further
commotion outside, she burrowed cautiously out of her
noxious cell and hoisted herself up to peek over the rim.
The alley seemed to be clear.

She climbed out and tried to clean herself off, but it
was hopeless; the fluids of the garbage had soaked through
almost every part of her dress, and solids adhered here
and there. She would be an obvious figure wherever she
went!

Maybe I should take off my dress, she thought.

And become a spectacle for every juvenile hood in the
area. Vita retorted with a certain grim relish.

Yet again, the voice of street experience! But where can
we go? Jolie asked.

Why didn't you think of that before you skipped out on
that date? I could've handled the fat man.

"Listen!" Jolie said aloud. "That man wanted illicit
sex with a child!"

What else! That's howl pay my way. Maybe it's not the
best life, but it's better than what I had before.

"What did you have before?"

This time Vita answered. Only a little incest.

"Only a little—!"

Before I bugged out.

"But surely your mother—"

Didn't want to know.

And I thought rape was bad! Oriene echoed.

It was rape all right! Vita thought. 1 fought him, but I
couldn't stop him without making a commotion Mom would
hear, so in the end I had to grin and bear it. I had asked for
it, after all.

"I don't believe that!"

You don't? Genuine surprise. Want me to show you how
it was?

They were standing outside the Dumpster, soaked in
garbage. This was hardly the time for a prolonged internal
dialogue! But Jolie realized that the girl was being much
more forthcoming now, and might not soon again be so.
"Yes, show me." She sat down by the Dumpster; this was
as good a place as any, now that the chase was over.

Vita opened up the memory. Vita was propped on her
bed in a pleasant room, watching a holo show. She was
wearing a loose light shift that fell somewhat provocatively
across her torso. A man entered: her stepfather. No—my
natural/other. Vita corrected Jolie's assumption.

Your genetic/other! Oriene thought, shocked again.

He just had a fight with Mom and was mad. Wish I'd




Piers Anthony

68 AND ETERNITT 69

known! He saw up my nightie-^ never thought—1 mean, we
used to sort of wrestle, and sometimes his hands—I thought
it was just, you know, accidental/eels, but he was getting
hot for me and I shouldn't've led him on. So when it went
too far—

Suddenly the man was on her, pinning her to the bed,
one hand yanking open the top of her shift so that it tore.
His other hand opened his own clothing.

Amazed, she struggled. / thought it was some kind of
game. I mean, we'd tussled before, and he always let me
win, 'specially when he got his hand on my ass. But this
time he really held me down and—

There was no art, no mercy. The man spread his body
on hers, driving in between her kicking legs. It was over in
a moment, and he got off and lurched out, closing up his
clothing. There had been no speech at all.

/ didn't know what he'd done, at first. Vita thought. It
was so sudden, mostly I felt my breath being squeezed out,
I thought it was just his weight, pinning me, and something
accidental jamming into me, like an elbow, only it wasn't.
Maybe I didn't want to know! I could've screamed, and I
guess I did know, because I knew if I screamed, he'd be
dumped in jail and Mom'a never forgive me. So I asked for
it, really, by letting him feel me before, and see up my—by
not trying to scream— Now the soul was crying.

"That was rape," Jolie said firmly. "Child sexual
abuse and rape."

But I must've lured him on, spreading my legs like that!
I didn't know that it's like a red flag to a bull, a man goes
crazy, he can't help it—

It was rape! Orlene repeated. His guilt, not yours!
Then, as an afterthought: Bulls are color-blind.

"I agree!" Jolie said. "A man can be overcome by
lust—but not when he has had time to leam control, not
when he's your father! Why did he come to your room at
all? He had it in mind before he ever saw you."

Anyway, after that I packed up my stuff and got out of

there. I knew I'd done wrong. I almost starved, before the
pimp picked me up, and since I was already worthless, what
did it matter, you know? So he took care of me, and I did
what he said, and I guess I didn't want to live much. But the
H made me feel better, and pretty soon the rest didn't
matter.

"We'll have to get you help," Jolie said. "You can't
just go home. But you can't stay on the street, either."

That's why I stayed where I was. Nowhere to go.

Jolie pondered alternatives. She could walk the girl to
Luna's estate, which wasn't a great distance away. But
Luna had sent her here, which meant that Luna knew Vita's
situation. She could have fetched the girl herself, if that was
the solution. Probably Luna had concluded that Vita needed
to be treated from the inside, so that she could come to
terms with her situation and return home voluntarily.

Home—to a father who had raped her? Definitely not
that! So it was still Jolie's problem, hardly closer to solution
than before. Homeless, garbage-laden, without money or
other resources—what was she to do with this host now?

Well, there were homes for runaways. One of them
should do as a temporary measure. All she had to do was
locate one, or find someone who knew the address of the
closest one.

She started walking. But now the back alley was
becoming inhabited, as the evening approached. "Hey—
get a smell of that!" a juvenile boy exclaimed.

In a moment there was a circle of boys: too young to
work, old enough to have bad ideas. They soon tired of
exclaiming and making gestures of nose-holding, and
worked up to more serious notions. "Open a hydrant! Hose
her off! Strip her naked! Then—"

"Look, I'm trying to find a runaway house," Jolie said,
and realized her mistake even as she spoke.

"So nobody knows where she is!" a boy cried happily.
"Haul her to the water, then into our hideout. We'll have a
hot time tonight!"




70

Piers Anthony

We're in for it now! Vita remarked. You and your big
reform ideas. This is the real world! Then, as an after-
thought: But maybe they've got a little H! For that I'll take

them all on!

You'll do nothing of the kind! Jolie thought. But she was
very much afraid that the alterrative would be gang rape,
which did not seem like much of an improvement. This was

indeed the real world!

But as they closed on her, a police carpet floated down.
Immediately one boy leaped for her, a knife showing in his
fist. "Say it's nothing!" he whispered, holding the knife in
such a way that the police could not see it, but ready for

stabbing.

Jolie thought fast. "I'll do better than that!" she said.
She scraped some garbage from her dress and threw it
upward toward the carpet. "Take that, flatfoot!" It had
been decades since police had sported flat feet, if ever, but

the name clung.

What are you doing? Oriene asked, appalled.

I'm getting us arrested!

The garbage, inadequately thrown, missed, but the
surrounding boys laughed. Jolie realized that she needed
something more solid. Quickly she reached under her dress
and hauled down her sodden panties, while the boys
gawked appreciatively. She wadded these into a ball and
hurled it at the carpet. "And that, jerks!"

But they'll lock us up! Vita protested. Streetwise, she
knew better than to taunt police!

Yes—away from your father—and your pimp!

This time her aim was good. The ball smacked into the
uniform of the leading cop. The boys almost fell down

laughing.

"That does it!" the cop said. "You're coming with us,
gamin!" The carpet dropped all the way to the pavement,
while the boys scattered.

But won't they send us back home?

Not if we tell our story first.

AND ETERNITY          71

"Phew!" the cop exclaimed, jumping off. "What you
been in—a garbage dump?"

"Right," Jolie said. This was exactly what she wanted:

to be arrested. When the police heard Vita's story, they
would put her in a runaway house or the equivalent. She had
taken a roundabout route, but she had gotten Vita out of a
bad situation and into a better one, with the girl's consent.

AND ETERNITY          73

4

JUDGE

In the morning, clean and in clothing provided by the de-
tention center, they were shown into a pleasant office. Vita,
suffering H withdrawal, refused to participate, and Orlene,
appalled at what she had learned, had retreated to passivity
again. Thus it was up to Jolie to handle this interview.

A man of middle age sat in an easy chair. He stood as
they entered. "Please make yourself comfortable," he said,
indicating another chair. "This is a preliminary interview,
informal, and if you wish, off the record. I merely wish to
leam something about you."

Jolie found herself disarmed by his manner; he hardly
resembled a callous bureaucrat! She sat, and the man sat
again. He had a receding hairline which he did not bother to
mask, and an expanding waistline, yet he seemed healthy
overall. His eyes were gray-brown, as if the pigment had
smeared. There were smile lines framing both eyes and
mouth, but also frown lines.

"Now, when we ran the routine identification check on
you, we discovered that you are a local resident—but there
is no lost-person report on you. Indeed, there is a qualifier:

your identification remains invalid unless you corroborate

72

it. We are legally bound not to report you, without your
permission. This is unusual, to say the least."

It was also interesting! Certainly Luna knew where Vita
was, for she had sent the two of them to her. But what
connection did Vita have to Luna, and why was it so
important to get the girl straightened out?

/ sure don't know! Vita thought irritably. And care less.
Ask him if he's got any H.

So the mystery remained—unless this was merely a
convenient case, to keep Jolie occupied and Orlene from
sinking to Hell. Well, it certainly was doing that!

"I had a bad experience at home," Jolie said, speaking
for Vita. Internally, she asked: May I tell him?

Go ahead, I don't care. But I won't go home.

"This is often the case," the man agreed. "In past
times runaway children were routinely returned to their
homes. Then it was discovered what they were running
from, and policy changed. Abuse?"

"Perhaps," Jolie said cautiously.

"Would you like information on what constitutes abuse,
legally? We want to understand your situation, and to have
you understand it yourself."

Jolie glanced at the matron who had brought her here,
and who remained standing at the door. That might be for
her protection, or the man's. "Are you trying to get me to
incriminate myself? I'm willing to do that; I did throw
garbage at the police carpet, so they would arrest me."

"So that you could win clear of the youth gang that was
closing in on you," he agreed. "I understand—and so did
the arresting officers. But there are other aspects of this case
that cause us to be reluctant simply to turn you loose
again."

"I don't want to be turned loose!" Jolie said, alarmed.
She knew that this host would be far better off in custody
than on the street.

"We have little choice, as you have committed no
significant crime and you can not be classed as a runaway.




74

Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 75

But we are willing to help in whatever way seems appro-
priate."

"This doesn't sound like a police interrogation!" Jolie

exclaimed. "Who are you? What do you really want of

me?"

The man smiled. "I apologize for neglecting to intro-
duce myself. I am Judge Scott, and this is a preliminary
hearing before our formal meeting in court. I prefer to know
something about those who come before me, so that my
ignorance does not lead to bad decisions."

Jolie was amazed. "I thought you were just a function-
ary! Someone to take evidence to use against me."

He smiled again. "That, too, perhaps. But the roots of
my involvement are curiosity and a desire to do what is
right, which is not always merely what is legal."

Jolie realized that her encounter with this man could be
a stroke of luck—or perhaps had somehow been anticipated
by Luna. She decided to put her cards—not merely Vita's—
on the table.' 'May I speak privately with you. Judge Scott?''

"The matron is here to ensure that I take no unseemly
advantage of you," he reminded her. "This is standard

policy with juvenile females."

' 'I understand that. But what I have to say is private and

I think not at all what you expect."

"There is also a recording of this interview being made,
for my protection as well as yours, so I can not guarantee

you privacy."

"That recording can be sealed as proprietary material."
The Judge raised an eyebrow. "You sound uncommonly
knowledgeable for your years."

"I am. Please let me talk to you alone."
He nodded to the matron, who quietly retired.
"I am not merely a runaway fifteen-year-old girl, H
addict and prostitute," Jolie said. "I am a more mature
woman who is animating her body as a temporary host—
and a still more mature woman who is operating during the
incapacity of the other one. Can you grasp this?"

"Certainly this is possible, if the host consents. What
would be the purpose in such a grouping?"

"The host is important to another person, who does not
wish to interfere directly. The other ghost is important to
me, so I brought her to this host in order to prevent her soul
from sinking to Hell, where it does not belong."

The Judge gazed at a spot on the ceiling. "Allow me to
remind you that the charge against you is limited to abuse of
an officer of the law, in the circumstances a misdemeanor.
You have not been charged with substance abuse or with
prostitution, and may not wish to volunteer such information
to the court."

That's/or sure! Vita put in. It seemed she was moni-
toring this dialogue.

"Oh, but I do," Jolie said. "In fact, I am prepared to
turn state's evidence in exchange for treatment and witness
protection."

You're crazy! Vita protested. The pimp was bad, but not
as bad as prison. You know what happens to girl prisoners?
I wear a null-preg, null-VD charm to keep me clean, but in
prison they get mean, and the charm won't help.

Startled, Jolie glanced at the girl's wrist. There was the
magic band, matching her light brown skin, which she
hadn't noticed before.

"I am not certain you understand what such action
would entail," the Judge said. "You would have to remain
in protective custody, and with our present limited facilities,
that means an adult prison. I believe I would prefer to return
you to the street."

Jolie smiled.' 'My host would prefer to return to the street
too. But I am proceeding on the assumption that she would
only become fully addicted to Spelled H. would be merci-
lessly exploited and abused by her pimp, and would come to
a sad end. I also believe that there was reason that we were
sent to her, and that she must be restored to her family."

No way! Vita snapped. My band's no good against that
either.




76               Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

77

"To which she does not wish to be restored," the Judge
said. "I would suspect that she has been abused there,
perhaps sexually molested. But prison is not the answer."

"Neither is the street," Jolie pointed out.

His eyes came down to focus on her face. "Tell me
more about yourself. Not the host; I mean you the ghost.
When did you live, and why did you not go to Heaven?"

"I don't think that's relevant."

"It is if you are in control of the body. It is your
responsibility that will determine the host's overt actions,
and this will help me make a decision."

Jolie nodded. "Stop me when you've heard enough. My
name is Jolie. I was bom in southern France in the year
1191 A.D. of common peasant stock. In 1205, when I was
fourteen, I was summoned to the house of the local
sorcerer, a young man a year my senior but of infinitely
greater experience and education and power. He fed me and
talked to me and said he wanted my love, and in due course
he had it, and I married him. I was killed by a crusader in
1208, but there was enough evil in my situation to put my
soul in balance, and I remained with my husband as a ghost.
He became a friar, but when he was of middle age, I
animated a living woman and tempted him into sin, and
thereafter he was prey to a demoness sent by Lucifer, and I
could not approach him."

"Lucifer?"

"Satan's predecessor. When my husband died, he
replaced Lucifer and became Satan. Today I keep company
with Gaea instead of with Satan, but I still love him and
visit him when I can. Now I am trying to help Gaea's
daughter, and—"

What?

Jolie bit her lip. "Oh, I said too much! She didn't know,
and it wasn't yet time to tell her. I got carried away by what
I was telling you—"

"Some might suppose a person who told such a story
was either inventive or crazy," Judge Scott remarked.

Jolie nodded. "So I might as well finish it while you're
still listening. Gaea sent me to Luna, and Luna sent me to
help this host. I do not know what her interest in this host
is, but I do know the girl needs help, so I am trying to help
her. Most immediately, I am trying to get her off the street
and off H, and this is where I beseech your help."

The Judge seemed undisturbed. "Since you are a
long-term ghost, you will have mastered the tricks of the
trade, as it were. You will be able not only to animate a
willing host, but to manifest directly to those who are
interested enough to perceive you."

"Yes. Do you wish me to?"

"Yes, please."

Jolie drew herself out of the host and floated in the air
beside her. Then she intensified her image until she mani-
fested in her natural living guise: a seventeen-year-old
French villain girl. Even so, few could have seen her.

The Judge looked directly at her and nodded. "Can you
speak also?"

"If you can hear me."

"I can hear you. Who remains in charge of the host?"

There was a pause. Then Oriene spoke. "I suppose
that's me. I wanted to sink down to Hell, but now I am
uncertain. This girl does need help, and it may be my
penance to bring her out of her slough."

"And you are?" the Judge inquired.

"Oriene. My baby died, and I committed suicide and
am trying to reach him in the Afterlife. But the Incarnation
of Night played a cruel trick on me, and I can not forgive
myself for what it brought me to."

"Will you, also, vacate the host?" the Judge asked.

"But she'll sink to Hell!" Jolie protested.

"Perhaps not, now," he replied. "She cannot be
condemned to Hell for evil inflicted on her by another."

"But she doesn't believe that!"

"I am coming to believe it," Oriene said. "Certainly I
understand now that others have problems as bad as mine,




78                Piers Anthony

and it behooves me to do what I can to help them, instead
of merely giving up." She moved out of the body and

floated.

"Who remains in charge of the host?" the Judge asked

again.

Vita looked around craftily. "Look, Judge, this is all a

big mistake. If you'll just let me go—"

"You would be back on the street in a moment, looking
for H," the Judge concluded.

"I didn't say that!" She glanced at him appraisingly. "I
can pay, if you like young flesh." She shaped her hair with
her hands and inhaled, trying to enhance her figure in the
plain prison dress. "Anything you want, just don't put me
in prison or ship me home."

The Judge nodded again. "Point made. Return to your
host, ghosts, and we shall discuss ways and means."

"But they won't let me have—" Vita protested. Then
Orlene approached her from the left and Jolie from the
right. She tried to bat them away, but her will was not in it;

she knew that only Jolie was competent to deal with the
Judge at this stage. So after token resistance, she allowed
them to reenter her and resume control.

The Judge considered for a moment. "I want your
commitment, Jolie, that you as the dominant personality
will remain with this host until her situation has been

clarified."

"Well, that depends on Orlene, and on Luna. If Luna

asked me to leave—"

"You are referring to Senator Kaftan?" he asked

sharply.

"Luna Kaftan, yes. But I wouldn't want her name
brought into this until I know more about her interest in this

person."

The Judge touched a panel on the arm of his chair.

'' Senator Kaftan, please.''

In a moment the air between them flickered and a holo
picture of a young man appeared. "Senator Kaftan's

AND ETERNITY          79

office," he said. "Oh, hello. Judge Scott! She's in confer-
ence at the moment, but I'll have her call you back."

"No need, Joe," the Judge said. "Merely inform her
that I propose to assume jurisdiction over one of her clients,
with her permission."

Joe's eyes moved around until they spied Vita. "No
problem. Judge; her permission is noted."

"Thank you." The image faded.

"What's going on?" Jolie asked, amazed.

"When you mentioned Luna Kaftan, I knew this was no
ordinary case. So I verified that you are what you claim to
be, and that this girl, your host, is indeed a concern of
Luna's. She wants the matter handled discreetly, so I am
assuming personal jurisdiction. But I am not about to take
an errant juvenile girl into my home unsupervised. I must
have your commitment to remain with her until this matter
has been resolved."

"Your home?" Jolie still was struggling over the
Judge's evidently close acquaintance with Luna.

"There are no appropriate facilities for such a project.
My housekeeper will see to your comfort. I will release you
on your own recognizance, and you will report to my
residence immediately. There you will be able to tend to
your host's needs without harassment. Will you make that
commitment, Jolie?"

If Luna knew this man and trusted him, Jolie realized
she could do no less. "Yes."

"Very well. You will be conducted back to your cell.
This afternoon you will appear before me formally. There-
after you will go to this address." He gave her a card. "I
will provide a carpet, as the girl's pimp may be on watch for
her release. Avoid him."

"Thank you," Jolie said faintly. What was she caught
up in here? The Judge seemed so direct and understanding—
but taking an underage prostitute into his home? If it wasn't
for Luna's involvement, she would distrust this overwhelm-
ingly; as it was, she distrusted it only significantly.

80

Piers Anthony

The matron returned. The interview was over—and
what an interview it had been!

So he does want young flesh! Vita thought.

Jolie, you can't put her into his power! Oriene thought.
You know the sexual imperative of the male!

Who cares? Vita retorted. He can't be as bad as the
pimp was. If I do good, maybe he'll let me have some H.

No sex! Oriene thought.

No H! Jolie thought at the same time.

We'll see, the girl responded smugly.

If your father molested you, Oriene asked, why are you
so eager for sex with strangers?

I'm not eager, in fact I don't like it. But it's not incest,
and if anyone finds out, it won't put my father in prison and
break up my family and break my mother's heart. It's the
only currency I've got now, so I might as well make it
count. The H makes it okay, and it can really make a man
jump. Sex is power.

They reached the cell. "Here is your headache pill,"
the matron said, proffering a capsule.

"Headache?" Jolie asked, surprised. Then she realized
that the Judge must have ordered it, so she accepted it.

"Thank you."

They were alone. Is that H? Vita asked eagerly. "I'm
near dying for a sniff."

"You aren't dying," Jolie said. "I can feel your body,
now, remember. It's only a moderate withdrawal discom-
fort; you really aren't addicted yet, and you aren't going to
be. This pill is to ease even that symptom." She put it in her
mouth, and it dissolved immediately into sweet juice, which

she swallowed.

Maybe it's just a symptom to you, but it's one hell of a

craving for me! Vita retorted. /// were en my own now, I'd

be out hustling for it, you bet.

You will not have it while I'm in charge, Jolie retorted.
Vita subsided sullenly. It was obvious that she was

biding her time and would go for the H the moment she had

AND ETERNITY          81

opportunity. Even though they shared the body, they did not
share the craving.

Gaea is my mother? Oriene asked.
"It is true," Jolie said, subvocalizing. "I'm sorry I said
it like that, but it is true. She birthed you when she was
mortal and could not marry, so gave you up to a Gypsy
woman, who gave you to the family who adopted you.
When she assumed the Office of the Incarnation of Nature,
she had the power to influence your life, but felt that would
be a conflict of interest, so she made no attempt to locate
you. Instead a friend asked me to watch over you, and that
I did, visiting you in your dreams. When you died, I
couldn't tell her, but I still tried to help you, so that you
could achieve some satisfaction. I hoped that I would be
able to tell her that you died but were satisfied, but it got
complicated."

It got complicated, Oriene agreed. Jolie, how can you
still try to help me, after what I did?

What did you try to do that was so bad? Vita asked.

"It wasn't her fault," Jolie said.

/ tried to rape her.

Vita made a thought-whistle. How could—

"She was turned magically into a man, whose passion
then overwhelmed him," Jolie explained before Oriene
could get into more guilt. "I am still trying to help you,
Oriene, because I know you, and know that you would
never have done such a thing in your normal state, either
living or dead. It was the cruel prank of the Incarnation of
Night, making you pay for your audacity in wanting your
baby back."

Some prank! Vita thought admiringly. But you know,
men do like to do it to women, and you can't trust any man
who denies it. That's why I know what to expect from the
Judge.

I don't think so, Oriene thought. The Judge glowed.

He had a glow on?

What?

82

Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 83

"She means was he intoxicated or under the influence of
some drug," Jolie clarified.

Oh. No, I mean I can see when a person is right for
another, and the Judge is right for anyone. He's a good
man, a very good man.

Jolie had forgotten about Oriene's talent. Some people
had individual magic, such as Gaea's for enhanced music,
and Oriene's magic was to be able to orient on any person
or people and tell by a glow she perceived whether they
were suitable for each other. It was interesting that she
endorsed the Judge. He had struck Jolie as a good man, but
such impressions could be mistaken.

Well, we'll see how he is when he gets me alone in his
house. Vita concluded. You know, I can see why you'd be
sent to watch Orlene, she being related to an Incarnation,
but I'm sure not related! What's so important about a black

teen whore?

"I wish I knew," Jolie said.

They relaxed, feeling the lethargy of the pill. It did seem
to be countering the drug withdrawal pangs for Vita.

In the afternoon they were conducted to the formal
hearing. Judge Scott sat at his tall desk, in the traditional
robe of the office. The clerk read out the charge, and the
Judge dismissed it, with a warning to Vita not to repeat the
offense. It was all done in a minute, and the next defendant

was brought up.

They walked out of the courtroom and to the carpet
access. Immediately a carpet sailed up, recognizing Vita.
They boarded, and it took off.

Vita peered down. There's the pimp's limo! she thought.
So he was waiting for me!

"He was waiting for you," Jolie agreed. "With Spelled
H in one hand and a club in the other."

God, I want to go to him! I mean, for the H.

You are off the H! Jolie retorted.

You offered to testify, Orlene thought. You could have
gotten that beast locked away. Why didn't you?

"It's almost impossible to make it stick," Jolie said.
"And new pimps and drug runners come in as fast as the old
ones are taken out. It's hardly worth dealing with the minor
criminals; it's the big ones the law wants."

The carpet sailed up and over the city, following the
established carpet routes. Jolie peered down, noting the
activities on the tops of the megabuildings. Some were set
up as parks, with shrubs and trees growing, and garden
paths, and even fair-sized ponds. Others were set up for
sports, with tennis courts, running tracks, game fields and
swimming pools. Some were residential, in the archaic
sense: little country villages set amid winding roads. The
best way to get away from the bustle of the big city was to
live on top of it—if you could afford the rentals. Jolie
always looked with longing at such developments, because
they reminded her of her origin in medieval times, when
isolated villages were most of what there was. Were she
alive again . . .

You really axe. from long ago. Vita thought, picking up
the thought.

"Yes, I really am," Jolie agreed wistfully. "I would
have been long since dead and gone, if I hadn't died." She
smiled, realizing the incongruity of that statement. But it
was true: but for the crusade, she would have lived out her
life with Parry, learning magic and growing old, perhaps
having children and grandchildren. Yet she might also have
died of one of the periodic plagues, or in childbirth, or some
accident. The average lifetime had been short then. So there
were ways in which she was better off now, as a ghost.

And I thought ghosts were always moaning! Vita com-
mented. You two ghosts aren't spooky at all!

Jolie laughed. "Not at the moment!"

The carpet approached an isolated megabuilding. This
one was restricted, meaning that the average person couldn't
enter it without a special pass. People in sensitive positions
normally lived in such buildings: those subject to assassi-
nation or harassment, such as government officials, com-
pany presidents, prominent entertainers and, of course,




84 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 85

judges. Luna—Senator Kaftan—was exceptional in her
residence in the heart of the city. But, of course, she had
special magic protection.

Jolie hoped that the Judge would live on the roof, but
was disappointed; his suite was buried deep inside the
building. The carpet accessed it by descending into a central
court and flying along a tube that curved like the inside of
some giant serpent. You'd think a judge could do better than
this. Vita remarked.

Not an honest one, Orlene replied.

That seemed to be the key: Judge Scott was not rich. But
this residence would be quite secure from characters like
Vita's pimp. It was also not the kind of place from which it
would be easy to run.

At last the carpet halted at a spherical chamber. There
were several doors, one of which listed the name ROQUE
SCOTT.

Roque! Vita thought, with a giggle in the background.

/ like it, Orlene thought.

Oh, I like it too—I just think it's funny!

They got off the carpet, and it flew away, follow-
ing whatever orders it had been given. They approached
the door, and it opened. A grandmotherly woman stood
there.

"You must be Vita," she said. "I'm a V too: Vaasta.
Your room's waiting."

She glows too, Orlene thought.

Now, tuning in, Jolie began to see it: a gentle radiance
that surrounded the woman. This evidently meant that she
was benign. That was comforting to know.

The suite was spacious enough, its aspect enhanced by
strategically placed mirrors. It had no windows to the
outside, but a magic picture showed a scene of thick foliage
and a small puddling stream with tiny fish. The leaves of the
trees moved with the breeze, and it was even possible to
reach into it and touch things, though not to remove them.
Vita found it fascinating; she had never had access to gentle
magic like this. Orlene was nostalgic; she had had pictures

like this during her life, and shared them with her lover
Norton.

Vaasta showed them the room and found several dresses
for them; evidently she had been sent word to order some in
the appropriate size range. Jolie looked at her host in the
mirror and approved; she now looked much more like an
innocent girl than a prostitute. As far as Jolie was con-
cerned, that would be the reality henceforth.

In the evening the carpet brought the Judge home. Jolie
presented herself, neatly dressed. "We thank you for
providing us this refuge. Judge Scott," she said.

"Roque," he replied. "Here I am Roque, and you
are—which one?"

"Jolie," Jolie said after a momentary hesitation. She
had no mortal identification, so that was better.

"You understand, this is an unofficial arrangement," he
said. "I freed you in court, and you are not required to
remain here. But I feel it is better for you to be here until
your internal questions are resolved."

So he has young sex on ice. Vita remarked.

"Thank you, Roque," Jolie said. "What may I do to
earn my keep?"

"Why, I really hadn't thought of that," he said.

Ha!

"I am sure that one of the three of us has some
knowledge or ability that you might find useful," Jolie said.

He smiled. "Unless you can look at a suspect's face and
accurately read his innocence or guilt, I have no use for you
at court, and Vaasta is quite adequate to maintain the
residence. So you should consider yourself—yourselves—
guests, as my favor to Senator Kaftan, whose motives and
judgment I deeply respect."

/ can do that, Orlene thought. All I would have to do is
orient on a person's suitability/or release into society, and
the good ones would glow.

"As it happens, Orlene has a magic talent, and could do
what you describe," Jolie said. "We should be happy to go
to court with you."




86                Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

87

"I was speaking facetiously," he said, surprised.

"I wasn't."

He considered a moment, in the way he had. "You
really wish to do this?"

Certainly, Orlene thought.

I'd rather lie in bed and watch holos. Vita thought.

"We have a difference of opinion," Jolie said. "But the
vote is two to one in favor of going to court with you."

"Then perhaps we should wait for a unanimous deci-
sion," the Judge said.

"No need. I govern the host, and I feel it is better to
earn our keep."

Listen, it's my body! Vita protested.

Which will be out on the street and back with the pimp,
without Jolie, Orlene returned. She agreed to remain for the
duration, which is why he's willing to have us in his home.
He knows she's a responsible person, while you aren't.

"Justice is not always served by the governing party,"
he said. "The host should not be coerced."

He's taking my side? Vita asked, amazed. He must want
flesh real bad!

No, he's glowing, Orlene reported. He is really trying to
do what is proper.

Oh, all right! But I'll kick up a storm if it gels boring.

"Make that unanimous now," Jolie said, smiling wryly.

He smiled again, this time with increased warmth which
added to his presence. "As you wish. Now let us see what
Vaasta has for dinner."

Vaasta was good at her business, and it was an excellent
meal. They had carrot casserole and pseudolobster salad,
which caused Vita to tune out in disgust, but she returned
for dessert: rainbow wafers. It was inexpensive fare, but
nutritious. Then the Judge retired to his study to review
upcoming cases, and Jolie settled down to watch the
evening holo shows. To Vita's disgust, she insisted on
watching the news first. Then she tuned in to an entertain-
ment program for Vita's benefit. It was full of violence, lust

and humor, in that order, with virtually no social sig-
nificance, and Vita loved it. Then to their chamber, where
they slept undisturbed, to Vita's expressed surprise and
unexpressed annoyance.

It was a new experience for Orlene, who had not
occupied a living body this way since she died, and for
Jolie, who had not been away from Gaea this long since
coming to her. But it was pleasant enough for all three of
them. Their dreams were a melange of all their minds and
experiences.

In the morning they joined Roque on the carpet and flew
into the city. They entered the rush of commuter carpets, so
thick that at times it was easy to lose track of the fact that
they were high in the air. It was more like being part of a
river current, with other carpets above and below and on all
sides.

"By the way," he murmured, "in court I should be
addressed as Judge Scott."

"Of course," Jolie agreed. She was in a formal suit
which was somewhat baggy on Vita's slight frame but made
her look a trifle older.

In the courtroom she was given a seat next to the steno,
so that she seemed to be an apprentice or assistant, and no
one questioned her presence. Orlene watched each case,
and Jolie saw the glow she saw. She whispered to the steno,
"Guilty . . . really guilty . . . innocent. . . doubtful," and
the steno signaled the Judge by some obscure means.

Vita, far from being bored, was fascinated. / never saw
such a line of creeps! she thought. They all want the Judge
to think they're good guys, but we're seeing right through
them!

There came a recess, and the Judge summoned steno
and assistant to his chambers. "I happened to be versed in
most of the morning's cases," he said. "Many are repeat-
ers, or have records elsewhere. You had no prior knowledge
of them?"




88 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 89

"None," Jolie said. "We had never seen or heard of
any of them before; we went only by the glow."

"You called them with complete accuracy. I am
amazed."

"It is Oriene's magic; she had a lifetime to master its
use. She can tell who is right for whom, and who is good or
bad, or who is telling the truth or lying."

"I am often required to make judgment calls, and when
the evidence is inconclusive, I try to err on the side of
leniency. It bothers me greatly to err too far, and to receive
news of a crime that was enabled by my misjudgment. I
want you to sit in on a preliminary interview and to inform
me of your impression."

"Without the steno? How should I do that?"

"Sit quietly with your hands in your lap, moving
nervously. When the indication is good or true, let your
right fingers be exterior; when it is bad or false, let your left
fingers show. I will not remark on this; merely keep them
appropriately positioned throughout."

"Yes," Jolie agreed. "Like this for good, and this for
bad.'' She cupped her left hand with her right, then reversed
it.

"Precisely. You may be far more valuable than I had
anticipated."

This is sure more fun than turning tricks! Vita thought.

/ should hope so, Orlene responded dryly. This immer-
sion in the ugly side of society seemed to be helping her;

Jolie wondered whether it was because it was now evident
how few living folk were perfect or even really good.

The in-chambers case turned out to be a suave business-
man, a rather handsome individual with a commanding
presence. There were diamond cuff links on his shirt, and
his tie clip was a sparkling opal.

"So nice to see you. Judge Scott," he said genially,
proffering his hand.

The Judge did not take it. "This is not a social meeting,
Mr. Bronx."

"Call me Cheer," Bronx said. "I don't believe in
standing on formality."

"I do," the Judge said coldly. "As you know, this is a
private preliminary hearing to determine whether formal
charges of embezzlement should be brought against you.
Are there any factors you wish to have placed in evidence?"

"You know. Judge Scott, I really admire your unusual
technique. They say you can tell more about a case in an
informal hearing than a prosecutor can bring out in a week
of witnesses."

Despite the man's open attitude, his nature was thor-
oughly evil. The glow about him seemed black. Jolie's
hands were set firmly in the negative position.

"Is there any reason I should not remand you to a
criminal court specializing in racketeering?"

"Apart from lack of evidence? You know I would not
soil my hands on that sort of crudity. Judge Scott."

To Jolie's surprise, the glow changed. This man was
innocent of that particular charge. She changed her hands.

"Extortion?" the Judge asked.

"You know such charges are unfounded!"

And it seemed they were.

"But you do gain considerable illicit wealth by cheating
on contracts with state agencies," the Judge said. "I
believe the term for this is 'skimming.' "

"How can you say such a thing! I am a regular
businessman!"

The hands reverted to the "guilty" position.

"The evidence is inconclusive," the Judge said. "But I
believe it is best to determine the accuracy of any charges
made. I shall direct that a thorough investigation be made
into your business practices. You will present your books to
this court next week, for review by a qualified accountant.''

"But my books will show no wrongdoing!" Bronx
protested.

"I was referring to your private set."

The glow around the man became like a bottomless pit.




90 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 91

Now Bronx knew that Judge Scott knew what to look for,
and rage and fear surged in him. Yet his face remained
bland. "Of course."

After the interview the Judge nodded to Jolie. "Your
hands were invaluable."

"But you seemed to know the answers already!"

"I suspected; you confirmed. Now I am able to elimi-
nate the false leads and concentrate on the true one. Bronx
will shortly be out of business in this city."

Gee, this is fun! Vita thought. He's really socking it to
those toads!

So it went, and their day was a success. "Little did I
know that you would prove to be so useful," Roque said as
they returned to his residence on the carpet in the evening.
"For the first time, I was assured of making no errors."

"We are glad to help," Jolie said.

He's just warming us up for the night. Vita thought, but
she was less certain than she had been.

"Do you care to tell me more of the background of the
girl?" Roque asked.

Does he glow? Vita demanded.

Yes, he means well, Orlene replied. He is a good man.

I guess he is. Okay, tell him about my father.

' 'She was raped by her father,'' Jolie said. "Rather than
make an issue that would destroy her family, she ran away,
and was taken in by a pimp who dosed her on H and
prostituted her to wealthy clients with a taste for what she
calls 'young flesh.' She felt that this was better than what
she faced at home."

"It is unfortunately routine. Is she willing now to testify
against her father?"

No!

"She is not."

"Will she trust my discretion if she gives me the
name?"

"But you already have the name! You said there was
a—a note in her file."

"Yes. We know her identity unofficially, but it must be
corroborated before we are allowed to report it. Unfortu-
nately this restricts my action, and I can not make a further
investigation into the matter without that corroboration."

That's the way I want it! Vita thought.

"No."

"Let me explain my interest here. Vita is the daughter
of Senator Kaftan's chief researcher. Her absence has made
her mother unable to function effectively, and it seems she
is the only one able to pursue a critical line of research that
relates in essential business. Senator Kaftan must have that
information."

But they'll put my father in prison! Vita thought in
anguish. That'll really break up Mom!

"I feel that a man guilty of a crime like that should
receive the full impact of the law," Roque continued. "But
circumstances are seldom clear-cut. Would it suffice if her
father voluntarily separated, and took up residence in
another city, and was denied visitation rights?"

You mean I'd never see Dad again—and no scandal?

That is what it means, Orlene agreed.

And Mom—she wouldn't know?

"Would her mother know?" Jolie asked.

"Not unless Senator Kaftan told her—which the Senator
might do, if asked."

/ guess . . . Vita thought uncertainly. And me—would
she know about me? I mean, the H and all.

' 'Vita doesn't want her mother to know about her recent
situation, either," Jolie said.

"She could call the Senator's office and leave a message
for her mother, stating only that she is safe and will return
later," he suggested. "I think that would be a great relief to
her mother."

The Senator's office! Vita thought. / never thought of
that! Her feeling of relief and elation flooded through them
all.

The carpet pulled into the megabuilding. When they




92 Piers Anthony

reached the apartment, Roque placed the call. In a moment
he was talking to Luna herself, while Jolie watched from
just outside pickup range. "Luna, the girl would like to
leave a message for her mother, no return address, her
father not to know. Can you go along with this?"

"I can, Roque," the Senator said. "Put her on; her
confidence will be protected."

Roque stepped away, and Jolie stepped into pickup
range. She relinquished the body to the girl.

"Uh, Mom, it's me. Vita," she said awkwardly. "I,
uh, I got into some trouble and couldn't come home. But
I'm okay now, doing real well, in fact. I, uh, I've got a job,
kinda, and it's real nice. I—Oh, Mom, I love you, and I'm
coming home soon's I can!" She cut off the contact, unable
to continue, overwhelmed by her tears.

Roque returned. "That will mean a lot to your mother,
Vita," he said.

Vita turned and hugged him tightly, catching him off
guard. He stood there somewhat helplessly, patting her
shoulder. Then she retreated, and Jolie took over.

She released Roque. "Thank you; this is Jolie again,"
she said, stepping away. "It was very kind of you to do
this."

"Well, there is a practical aspect, of course," he said,
embarrassed. "Luna needs the services of her mother, and
this will facilitate the return of those services."

But he did it because he didn't like grief in either Vita or
her mother, Orlene thought. He glows of goodwill, not
practicality.

"Of course," Jolie said, agreeing with both Orlene and
the Judge.

They had supper and watched the evening holos. As
they retired for the night, wearing a silken nightie Vaasta
had shopped for during the day. Vita had further comments.

/ hugged him, and he never put a move on me!

He is a decent man, Orlene agreed. As decent as I have
encountered since dying.

AND ETERNITY          93

I thought sure he'd grab a feel, at least a little one, but
he didn't.

He didn't, Orlene agreed.

/ mean, he doesn't have a woman, so unless he's—

He isn't. He glows normal.

I think I love him.

"Now, wait!" Jolie murmured.

/ mean, every man I ever got close to, including
especially my father, wanted to get into my pants.

"Well, your pimp didn't."

You kidding? He had me first thing! Said he never put
flesh in the field 'less he knew it was tight.

"There goes another bastion of morality!" Jolie said
with irony. "If you can't trust your pimp—"

Oh, come off it! It was just business to him. But he sure
put me through the grinder! I learned more in fifteen
minutes—

"We really don't need to review it," Jolie said, though
she would have smiled had Orlene not been present. It was
evident that the girl was resilient and would not suffer
emotional crippling from that particular aspect of her
experience. At the same time, it wouldn't have bothered
Jolie to see the pimp roasting eternally on a spit over a fire
in Hell. For every truly decent man, there seemed to be two
truly unscrupulous ones who would take advantage of any
girl they could catch, regardless of age.

But Roque's different. I mean first he gave us a nice
place to stay, and then he helped me talk to Mom, and he's
not hot for my flesh. What's more to ask?

"Time. Experience. Maturity," Jolie said.

He's got them in spades!

"Not his. Yours."

Pooh! Maybe for you old women that's okay, but I'm
young and alive. I want to love!

And some day surely you will, Orlene put in. But not
illicitly.

That's the only kind I know!

94                Piers Anthony

They slept—and suffered through Vita's dreams of
hugging a man who didn't grab feels. Her emotion, unwar-
ranted and unrealistic as it was, was nevertheless over-
whelming. Perhaps it was a long-dammed reaction to her
need for respect for an older man, lost when her father
betrayed her. The thing was, Roque really was a good man,
one worth loving. But there was no way he would love an
underage girl.

The next day something alarming happened in court.
They were sitting as before, beside the steno, when one of
the cases turned out to be the pimp. He was there on an
accurate charge: soliciting for prostitution.

Oh, my God—if he sees me . . . ! Vita thought.

Jolie agreed. She tried to cover her face with her hands,
but couldn't do it effectively without becoming obvious.

The pimp's gimlet gaze caught her and lingered for a
moment. There was no question: he recognized her. Vita
felt doomed, and Jolie couldn't argue. That pimp would
blow the whistle on the whole thing if he didn't get his way!

Then the judge's head turned, following the pimp's
gaze, and he realized what had happened. Abruptly he
called a recess. "You will consult in my quarters," he told

the pimp.

In a moment, it seemed, they were there: Judge, Jolie,

and pimp. "I gather you recognize this woman," Judge

Scott said abruptly.

"I sure do. Your Honor! That's one of my gals! What's
she doing in your court?" He stared penetratingly at Jolie.

The gall of the man! How could he think to get away
with this? He was talking himself into prison!

No, he figures to blackmail the Judge, Vita thought.
Figures the Judge won't want to be exposed with a whore.

The Judge turned to Jolie. "Is this true?"

You're no whore! Orlene thought fiercely. Whatever you

were into before is past now.

And there was the key. "I am not his creature," Jolie

AND ETESiNITY          95

said, speaking with her own voice. "I despise his breed."

The pimp's jaw dropped. He did not know that Jolie had
taken over Vita's body, and her words were not at all what
he had expected from a cowed, H-addicted girl.

"The lady seems to disagree with you," the Judge
remarked. "What basis do you have for your claim?"

He called me a lady! Vita thought, thrilled.

The pimp realized that he was in trouble. If the girl had
found courage, she could testify against him and put him in
a lot more trouble than before. Still, he made the attempt.
"You know I've got what you want, girl."

"Are you by chance alluding to an illegal drug?" Jolie
demanded imperiously. "Certainly I want none of that, and
none of you, you despicable whoremaster! I shall be happy
to provide information—"

The pimp raised his hands in a surrender gesture.
"Suppose I just get out of town in a hurry. Your Honor?"

"I would have no objection to that," the Judge agreed.

That concluded the session. But how come the pimp
backed down so fast? Vita asked. He knew I never could tell
him no!

"He discovered that he wasn't dealing with you any-
more," Jolie explained. "Had it been just you, he would
have taken you with him, and the Judge would have let you
go rather than be compromised and have his reputation
sullied. Or so he thought. But he found himself up against
a fearless judge and a fearless woman, and knew the odds
had turned against him. He did the most expedient thing:

voluntary banishment. You'll never see him again. The
Judge let him go because this is more effective than
sentencing him on a misdemeanor charge."

Gee! And that about covered it.




-5

ROQUE

On the weekend, Roque took them for a walk in the park.
Jolie had requested it, because the host, as a minor, was not
granted free access; she had to be accompanied by a
responsible adult. Vaasta had no interest in parks, but the
Judge liked to take weekly strolls. His suite was about
halfway high in the megabuilding, by no means a favored
site, so he did feel squeezed at times.

They took an elevator and zoomed up sixty stories to the
roof. They stepped out, and were deep in a forest. Indeed,
when they turned, their elevator was gone; there was no
sign of civilization except the marked path, which curved
out of sight both forward and back.

But where did it go? Vita demanded, amazed.

Magic, Orlene replied, laughing.

You're teasing me! Let me ask Roque.

Jolie turned to the Judge, who was inhaling the fragrant
air with evident satisfaction. "I am turning the body over to
the host, who finds this a novel experience. Since there is no
expedient escape from this level, I believe she will behave.''

"As you wish." He evidently had a notion of Vita's
question. ' 'However, I shall expect you to remain resident
and to take over if she misbehaves."

96

AND ETERNITY          97

Jolie nodded. She did not fully trust Vita, but believed
that the girl's burgeoning crush on the Judge would cause
her to stay in line. She vacated.

"Now I know I'm just a street-level city girl who's
never been nowhere," Vita said. "But we just came out of
an elevator and now it's gone, and I know they don't waste
magic on regular folk. What happened to it?"

Roque smiled in the way he had, and Vita felt a thrill of
emotion that worried Jolie. Crush? Jolie had forgotten how
potent the passions of youth could be! The girl had said she
loved him, and indeed, in her way she did. But she had
rather direct ways of expressing herself. That would have to
be watched, until it passed in favor of some other interest.

"It is not magic," Roque said. "It is merely camou-
flage. This is not a real tree; it is the mask for the elevator."
He touched the bark of the huge tree trunk the path curved
around, and a panel slid aside to reveal the elevator chamber
within. In a moment the panel slid quietly across again and
the tree was whole and seemingly natural.

"Oh!" Vita squealed, delighted. "It tricked me!"
"We must labor hard to maintain seeming naturalness,"
he remarked, walking down the path. "These parks are
restricted to responsible adults because irresponsible folk
have no proper appreciation for them, and may litter or
damage them. It might be taken as an analogy of society:

only those who have achieved a mature viewpoint are
capable of appreciating what it offers without abusing it."

"You make it so sensible!" Vita said, thrilling again.
She had had little interest in parks before, and none in
maintenance, but she was an instant convert.

"I should; I am one of those charged with the enforce-
ment of society's standards."

"Yeah, my pimp would just spit on this path."
"Oh, perhaps he would not descend to such depravity."
She glanced sidelong at him, trying to fathom whether
this was humor. He saw that, and allowed his straight face
to quirk. Then she felt free to laugh. She was learning social

98 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 99

nuance, too, in a hurry. Jolie was amazed at the potency of
this association. Roque had treated Vita with courtesy, and
she had responded in a manner Jolie hoped was not
embarrassing him too much.

"Oh, look at that!" she exclaimed farther along,
stooping to peer at a delicate flower. "It looks just like
a—"

"Lady slipper," Roque supplied. "Indeed, that is its
name. It is one of many ornamental plants cultivated here
and in other roof parks."

"Gee, I wish I could be here forever!" she exclaimed.

"I understand the feeling. When I am amidst a hard day
at court and I feel my temper fraying, the image that pacifies
me is this one, especially the pond ahead."

"There's a pond?" Vita literally skipped ahead, casting
off five years in her delight.

/ walked such paths with Norton, Orlene thought wist-
fully. Her own nostalgia and emotion were riding along
with Vita's joy.

And 1 with Parry, Jolie agreed, similarly charmed.

The pond was lovely. It had mossy banks and clear
water, and ducks glided on its surface. The males had heads
with iridescent green. They turned and swam toward the
visitors.

Roque touched another tree trunk. A panel opened to
reveal a chamber containing slices of bread. He took out
two, handing one to Vita. "You tear it into bits, like this,
and toss it to the ducks. Only one slice per person, per visit,
so that the birds do not become obstreperous." He nipped
a piece to the leading duck.

A mother duck with four little ones appeared. "Oooo!"
Vita cried, tossing her fragments to them. The ducks took
them eagerly, but headed back into the water the moment
they were gone. They knew better than anyone that it was
no use importuning a visitor for seconds.

"They don't really like us, just our bread," Vita said,
disappointed.

"This is another truism of life. I, as a judge, find few
who like me personally, but many who cater to me because
of my position. You, in your past life, found many who
cared nothing for your personality, only for the passing use
of your body."

"Gee—you mean a judge is like a whore?"

"I would not have expressed it quite that way, but
perhaps that is the essence."

"And both are like ducks!" she concluded. "No, wait,
that's backwards. The ducks are the others, the ones who
just want something, and you gotta be smart and catch on to
them and not be flattered, no matter who you are."

"Agreed." And with that simple indication of approval
of her rationale, he sent her floating again.

They walked on. "There is something I have been
meaning to mention," Roque said.

"Me too!"

No! Jolie thought, alarmed by the girl's swell of
excitement and love.

"Oh? You have a concern. Vita?"

But the girl, heeding Jolie's threat to take over, de-
murred. Vita now respected Jolie's judgment and would
give her the body on demand, rather than risk in some way
offending the Judge. "You first, Roque." She liked the
privilege of calling him by his first name.

"There has been a grace period, but now it is necessary
to arrange for your resumption of schooling," he said. "By
law you must remain in school until you are sixteen, and it
would be better if you continued until you are qualified for
adult responsibilities. Your time as an outlaw is past."

"Gee, was I an outlaw?" she asked, intrigued.

"You certainly were. Had you been arrested in the
course of your business, I would have had to fine you and
remand you to the juvenile authorities."

"My pimp would have lied about my age and gotten me
off."

"True. But / shall not misrepresent your age, or allow




100 Piers Anthony

you to be mistreated while you are in my charge. You must
undertake schooling."

"I can't go home for that!"

"Not yet. But there is an adequate local school in this
building."

"You mean I'd have to quit going to court, and go sit in
dumb classes all day instead?"

"lam afraid so."

That prospect did not appeal to Jolie or Orlene any more
than it did to Vita. This was a temporary situation for them,
which was extending because of the difficulty about getting
Vita back home, and they did not want to suffer through
material with which they were long since familiar.

"Say—maybe Jolie could tutor me!" Vita suggested.
"She's lived forever and knows a lot, and so does Orlene."

"Tutoring—by a pair of ghosts? That had not occurred
to me!"

"And they could do it all the time! You could test me,
or something, to be sure I knew the stuff! And I'm learning
a lot in court, really I am! Maybe if you got them registered
as tutors—"

"This is irregular, but you may have a point. Are they
amenable?"

Yes! Jolie and Orlene thought together.

"They say yes. Should I put them on?"

"No, I will accept your word."

"But my word's no good! I lie all the time, to get what
I want. You can't trust me!"

"Are you lying now?"

"No! I wouldn't lie to you, Roque!"

"Then perhaps your word to me is good. You are
developing a new standard, in keeping with your present
situation."

She was taken aback. "Yeah, I guess maybe so."

"I shall see what can be done."

"Gee, thanks, Roque! I love you!" As she spoke, Vita
threw her arms around him, hauled herself in and up, and
planted a kiss on his startled face.

AND ETERNITY         101

No! Jolie thought, way too late. She had been caught off
guard.

But Vita, aware that she had transgressed, retreated,
leaving Jolie in charge by default.

She quickly disengaged. "Jolie here," she said. "I
must apologize for allowing—"

"Jolie, we must talk," he said, frowning. He led the
way to a park bench and sat.

She joined him. "I can assure you that this will not
happen again."

"What is the girl's emotional state?"

"Roque, she's young, and she has not had experience
with a truly decent man before. You have treated her neither
as a juvenile nor as a black prostitute, but as a legitimate
person in her own right. She is recovering from H addiction,
and I think has sublimated that discomfort in emotion. It is
hardly surprising that—"

"She was not speaking figuratively, then."

Jolie sighed. "She was not."

"This places me in an awkward position. You know I
cannot afford to have an amorous, underaged girl in my
household."

Now, that's not fair! Orlene objected. We agreed to
remain in charge while she remained here.

"You know that these things happen," Jolie said
carefully. "Schoolgirls get crushes on their teachers, but
the classes go on, and in due course they graduate to more
serious involvements."

"I am not a teacher in a classroom with many students.
I am a judge, and this child is residing in my suite.
Considering her history, it would be inappropriate for such
an arrangement to continue."

No! Vita thought in anguish. / can't live without him!

Jolie considered the complications of moving the host to
some other facility and of dealing with the host's hurt. She
wished she had intercepted Vita's rash action in time, so as
to have avoided this problem. But now she had to tackle it
directly.

Piers Anthony

102 AND ETERNITY 103

"Roque, I deeply regret that this thing happened, but it
is a reflection of the existing state. I feel that it is best for all
concerned that the arrangement we had just settled on be
allowed to stand. Orlene and I will tutor Vita and see that
she qualifies to the necessary standards. We will remain in
charge so that you are not embarrassed by this sort of
foolishness again. You will not be left alone with the girl."

' 'Still, it is essential for a judge to avoid the appearance
of impropriety, as well as the reality."

"I think you are being as foolish as the girl," Jolie said
tartly. "The appearance is in the eye of the beholder. Your
behavior has been impeccable, and hers will be so in the
future. The impropriety occurred, as it were, offstage—and
what was it? A girl impulsively kissed her guardian, who in
no way sought or encouraged such attention. Even a judge
should see no impropriety in that."

"What does she say about this?" he asked, wavering.

"I shall put her on again," Jolie said. Then, as she did
so: Vita, just sit straight and apologize for embarrassing
him, and be in control. That will show him that you have
learned your lesson.

Jolie returned the body to the host. "Vita, here. I, uh,
I wish to apologize, and—oh, Roque, please, please don't
send me away! I love you, I want to be with you always, I
want to have sex with you, I want to be your mistress for
ever and ever, but I'll behave just perfectly, I'll do anything
you want, only I beg you, please just let me stay!'' Her tears
were flowing as if turned on by a faucet.

Ouch! Orlene thought.

Vita tried to retreat again, but Jolie refused to take over.
Get yourself out of it this time! she snapped.

Roque was looking at her, his face neutral.

"I'm, uh, not adult," Vita continued with difficulty. "I
know I've got a lot to leam. I'm just a silly juvenile girl. I
know my emotions get out of control. But with Oriene's
guidance, and Jolie's, and yours, I hope to become what I
should be. I really respect you. So—whatever you decide."

"If I allow you to remain . . ."he said.
She bowed her head, her shame at her outburst bringing

her the control she had lacked before. "Whatever you

decide," she repeated.

He nodded. "I think I perceive improvement already."

He stood.

Don't question him! Jolie shot. He's testing you.
Vita, chastened, continued their walk, silent.

The Judge let it pass. Jolie and Orlene maintained strict
control, and there were no other untoward incidents. Vita
labored assiduously, and did indeed make progress in her
education; she took standardized tests, and Jolie and Orlene
refused to help her at all, but she gained. She was a bright
enough girl, as should have been the case, considering her
mother's proficiency as a researcher.

Time was passing pleasantly enough, but Jolie knew it
could not last. Orlene recovered her equilibrium and re-
sumed her interest in recovering her baby, but that had to
wait until their present mission with Vita was resolved.

Orlene took it with surprising grace. / know my baby is
safe with Nox, and there is no aging in the Afterlife, so it
can wait. When we finish here, I will be better prepared to
resume that quest.

It was not that she had lost interest in her baby; Jolie
could tell by the ghost's thoughts that it remained strong.
There was something else—and one day that other thing
manifested to Jolie's considerable dismay.

Judge Scott was due for his annual vacation. He planned
to go to the northern mountains, where a section of
wilderness had been preserved as a giant park. "Have no
concern; Vaasta will see to your needs, as usual," he told
them.

/ want to go with him! Vita thought urgently.

"I don't think that's wise," Jolie murmured.

/ wish to second the motion, Orlene thought. / identify
with the wilderness, because of Norton. That's over, of




104

AND ETERNITY          105

Piers Anthony

course, but the delight remains. If we could accompany
him, perhaps tending to the cooking or other chores that
Vaasta does here . . .

Roque glanced at her. "Your brow is furrowed, Jolie. Is
there a problem?"

"I'm afraid there is. The other two want to go with
you."

"I doubt that would be appropriate."

"I agree."

Now look, fair's fair! Vita thought. Isn't Orlene sup-
posed to be the one helping me, and you're just along to
help her?

"True, but—"

So Orlene should have a vote, shouldn't she? I mean,
she's adult, she knows what it's all about.

Jolie looked up. "They wish to put it to a majority
vote—and they are two to my one."

His mouth quirked. "Perhaps I should talk to Orlene."

Jolie turned over the body, uncertain what would come
of this. "Orlene, here. No offense to you, Roque, but Vita
and I feel that you do us an injustice by leaving us behind.
We would be prepared to handle routine chores and try to
pay our way, for the pleasure of the experience and your
company."

"But much of this will involve hiking and camping
alone. There would be an impropriety in having along a
female below the age of consent."

"The host may be so, technically, but I was of age when
I died; indeed, I was married and had borne and lost a baby.
I am adult, regardless of the body."

"But it would be impossible to avoid the suspicion that
we were in some manner involved with each other!"

"I hope you do not take this amiss, Roque, but I would
not be averse to that suspicion."

What are you saying! Jolie thought, aghast.

"I am not certain I follow your implication," the Judge
said carefully.

"Then I will clarify it. I have come to hold you in deep
respect, and though it would be inaccurate to say that I care
for you in the fashion that Vita does, I would by no means
object to getting to know you better. I hope this is not cause
for alarm on your part."

It is cause for alarm on my part! Jolie thought. How can
you, responsible woman, make such a proposition?

The Judge considered. "I fear I may regret this. But it
is true that I am not apt with the details Vaasta normally
handles. You may accompany me if that is your sincere
desire."

/'// have no part of this! Jolie thought. Orlene, at first
bewildered by the circumstance of her death, and then by
Nox's cruel trick, had now recovered astonishing poise and
assertion. You are doing it for Vita's sake—so that she can
indulge her passion for the Judge!

"Jolie does not approve," Orlene said.

"I would not wish either to interfere in your internal
arrangements or to cause any of you three discomfort,"
Roque said. "Take time to consider among yourselves, and
I will accede to your decision."

They did that. It was obvious that Orlene did indeed
intend to accommodate Roque in more than routine matters,
in part at Vita's behest, but also in part because of her own
developing interest. But what was worse was Roque's
willingness to go along with it. Apparently there was a
majority of three for this excursion.

/ will take a break, Jolie thought, her nose out of joint.
You do as you deem fit, Orlene. I will return when your
party does.

"We shall miss you," Orlene said sincerely.

Jolie departed as the others did, but in a different
direction. She returned to Gaea and made her report on the
weeks she had been gone: how Luna had sent her to Vita,
who was now staying with the Judge while her home
situation clarified.




106              Piers Anthony

"And not only the girl, but the woman, too, attracted to

the Judge?" Gaea inquired.

"Girl and woman, each in her fashion," Jolie agreed.

"It is my concern that they mean under this cover to let the

girl have at the Judge."

"Why do you feel that this is wrong, considering our

own arrangement with a man?"

"The girl is underage!"

"Only by society's definition, which is seldom honored
in practice. She is evidently cognizant of her true interest,
as is the woman. I see no harm in it. Do you have another

reason?"

Jolie realized that she did. Of course her concern about

Vita was spurious; the girl had had plenty of sexual
experience already, so had no illusion about that aspect, and
the Judge was not a man to take unfair advantage. "I hadn't
realized, but I do. It relates to the man, but I'm not sure—"
"You have an interest in him yourself?"

"Not a romantic one; there has only ever been one for

me."

"Whom we shall see shortly; I confess to having been

out of sorts during your absence."

"I want to see him too! But the Judge—"
Then Jolie paused, the realization coming. "I see him as
a candidate for an office!" she exclaimed. "He's such a
good man, yet with considerable experience with the human
condition. I don't want to see him sullied or disqualified!"

"Romance should hardly do that!"
"But with an underage girl, knowingly? That would

certainly be a sin."

"Not by my definition, if it is truly voluntary by both

parties."

Jolie thought back to her own days of life, when she was

in love at age fourteen. She had waited until marriage
before indulging in sexual activity, but that had been most
unusual for that time. Certainly it seemed in retrospect that
she could have indulged sooner, and now she wished she
had. She had had so little time with Parry!

AND ETERNITY         107

"But what about God's definition?"

"Interesting that you should raise that question at this
time. Are you aware of the nature of Luna's research, with
which you are indirectly helping?"

"What does that have to do with God? We were never
told—"

"It is time you knew, Jolie, but I am not at liberty to tell
you. Therefore I shall compromise: I shall tell you, then
seal it off from your awareness until a more appropriate
time. It is not my purpose to tease you, but to prepare you
subconsciously for what could be a significant role you will
play."

"What are you talking about? I am just a ghost!"

"The final confrontation is coming upon us, and all the
Incarnations including Satan are girding for it. But it is not
of precisely the nature even the Angel Gabriel anticipated."

"The confrontation between Good and Evil? But I
cannot be involved with that, because of my conflict of
interest!"

"No more than mine, my friend!"

"No more than yours," Jolie conceded. "We both love
Satan; how can we be discussing this?"

"We have concluded that the issue can not be settled
with the present cast, because as far as we can ascertain,
God has not involved Himself with mortal or immortal
affairs in several centuries. Therefore it behooves those who
support Good to arrange for a change in the Officeholder."

Jolie was aghast. "Replace the Incarnation of Good?"

Gaea nodded. "Install a new man—one who will at
least pay attention to mortal matters."

"But is that possible? Surely if the present Officeholder
does not step down, no other force can make Him!"

"No other could—were he defending his turf. But in the
absence of such defense, it becomes the prerogative of the
other Incarnations to elect a replacement, by unanimous
vote. The lesser ones support the greater ones, and outside
ones like Nox do not concern themselves in this. So we are
planning to hold a conclave and elect the replacement."




108

Piers Anthony

"But Satan will oppose that!"

"Of course. Because it is to his interest to maintain an
inactive Incarnation of Good. A new one would be active,
greatly complicating Satan's drive for power."

"Unless it were Satan himself. He really isn't evil."

Gaea smiled. "You and I might vote for him, but I
doubt that a majority of the Incarnations would, let alone
make it unanimous. It will have to be some other man."

"Some other man," Jolie agreed, still awed at the

prospect.

"So Satan's defenses will be two: first he will try to
prevent the vote from being taken. Since it requires the
accordance of a clear majority of the mortals who believe in
God, the first battle will occur in the mortal realm. It is in
preparation for this that Luna is researching."

"Her key vote!" Jolie exclaimed. "To bring her con-
stituency in line!"

"Even so. This is the help you have been rendering her.
She requires precise information as to the sources of mortal
opposition, so that she can neutralize as many as possible.
Fate has been able to read ahead this far: it will come down
to one vote, and that vote will be hers, but she must do it
with the support of her mortal constituency. Satan will do
his best to deny that support. This issue has been building
since Luna entered politics, and perhaps longer. But it is
only the first; the second will be the decision on the man."

"And that man may redefine the standards," Jolie said,
seeing it. "So that there may not be automatic sin for
consenting love, or for voluntary death, or a hundred other

things."

"Yes. Those standards may once have been appropriate,

but their relevance has eroded. We can not know how they
will change, but we must try to select a man who will
change them for the better."

"So the candidates I have been watching—"

"May be for that Office."

"And the Judge—"

AND ETERNITY

109

"May be a candidate."

"But a unanimous choice—Satan will veto any man the
others agree on!"

"True. But once the conclave is assembled, it will
continue until the selection is made. Eventually there must
be a compromise."

"But that almost guarantees that the best man will not
be chosen!" Jolie protested. "That he'll be a compromise
choice, with at least some evil—how can that be?"

"It evidently was so the last time. The evil in that
choice manifested as indifference or vanity. Just as there is
some good even in Satan, there is some evil even in God.
But that will be better than nothing—which is what we have
now."

"What we have now," Jolie echoed. What a de-
velopment!

"So now you can appreciate the importance of your
observation. You must understand the Judge well enough to
be able to recommend him for such an Office—or to
eliminate him from consideration. We must not have any
mistakes in our nominations! You must retain awareness of
the critical nature of your mission, but not of the mission
itself. I regret putting you in such a position, but believe it
must be so, for the present."

"I understand. I would not have believed it otherwise."
Gaea looked at her—and abruptly Jolie forgot what she
had been told, retaining only the imperative to study Judge
Scott with excruciating care and objectivity.

"Now let's go consort with the enemy," Gaea said.
Jolie was relieved to shift from the perplexity in which
she found herself. She was aware of having discussed
something of transcendent importance, but could not recol-
lect what it was. She floated into Gaea and animated her
body, conforming it to her own.

She rejoined Vita and Orlene as they returned from the
Judge's vacation. Vita looked tanned and fit and satisfied,

110              Piers Anthony

though of course her tan was permanent. Roque seemed
pensive. Jolie dreaded to conjecture what that meant,
despite Gaea's assurance about the morality of the situation.

We were naughty, Orlene thought.

Jolie had washed her hands of the matter, but now she
had to know: exactly what had happened on that trip north?
The other two were glad to fill her in, running a chain of
vivid selected memories. It was as if Jolie herself were

living it.

An airplane, for the scientific devices tended to be better

than the magical ones for massive or long traveling. Arrival
at the northern airport, where megabuildings were sparse. A
carpet to the campsite, with supplies for several days. A
foot hike to the local sights: huge old pine trees, jagged
natural slopes, and a freezingly cold untamed river.

Evening at an unheated cabin. They cooked their staples
over an open fire of burning wood, an amazing novelty,
complete with choking smoke. Both Vita and Orlene loved

it.

Then the night in the cabin. They had separate sleeping

bags, but Orlene balked. "We are alone now, Roque, and
there is no need for confusion. You are a gentleman and will
not force the issue, but we deem it our prerogative to do
that. Unless you protest, we shall merge our bags and join

you for the night."

"I must object," Roque said.
"You have reservations about the age or race of the

host?"

"No, it is the age of the controlling person that counts,

and it never occurred to me that race should be a factor.

But—"

"You have difficulty relating to women?"

"No! But—"

"Objection noted. Overruled."

He had to smile. "I can not stop you, but it should also
be noted that I did anticipate something like this, and am
resolved to take no advantage of anyone. If you wish to talk,

AND ETERNITT         111

I shall be glad to do that, but that will be the extent of it."

Orlene put the bags together and got in with him. "I
shall be happy to talk, Roque, if it does not deprive you of
sleep. Of what nature is your concern?"

"Merely the question of propriety, which you have now
answered satisfactorily. But I have the impression that there
is something I do not know of you and your motive, and I
would like to understand that. Vita has expressed interest in
me of a certain, shall we say, personal nature, but you have
not, so your interest in accompanying me here, and in
establishing such propinquity, is obscure."

She snuggled close to him in her nightie. "I want you to
understand the manner in which you have done me some
singular good. I was an adoptee, raised by good folk, but
always with the knowledge that I had been born to other
parents. Even though there was never any discrimination of
any kind against me, that awareness always set me just a bit
apart. Perhaps it was that which led me to avoid true
marriage and agree to a ghost marriage, wherein I married
a ghost and agreed to bear a child who would carry his
inheritance. The ghost, Gawain, was a dragon slayer who
had in turn been slain by one of his quarry, technically an
allosaur. I never knew him in life, and he was unable to
manifest to me in death, so there was no love between us.
Indeed, I was satisfied that it be so, for I think I felt
unworthy of love, because of my anonymous parentage.
Gawain solicited men to come to me, but I had the right of
veto, so that I would not have to endure sex with an
inappropriate male. I was not being coy; I have the talent of
judging people by the glows of their auras, as you know,
and I judged each prospect by his glow as a father and lover.
I was actually relieved when the first ones had inadequate
glows. If the truth be told—and this is the time, I think, for
telling it—I really did not believe the ghost existed, and
thought that the men who came were mere opportunists.
Only later did I come to accept the validity of it and that
Gawain really was active on my behalf.




112 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 113

"Then Gawain brought Norton, a wandering environ-
mentalist, and the sight of his glow overwhelmed me so that
I could hardly speak. He and I faltered through an in-
troduction, but I knew from the outset that he was the one.
Indeed, he came to live with me, and we were lovers, and
he fathered my baby, and then—" She found herself
crying.

"I know the history," Roque said gently. "I regret that
such tragedy came to you."

"So now I am a ghost, having followed my baby," she
continued after a while. "But when Jolie and I went to see
the Incarnation of Night, and I became a man and attempted
to rape her, that was such a blow to my self-esteem that I
retreated entirely. I had seen most men, other than Norton,
as crude, lecherous animals, but now I knew that I was no
better, for I had been worse than they, when given their
imperative. I had never dreamed that sex could be so pow-
erful a force! It entirely overwhelmed me, and all ethical
scruples ceased to have meaning. I simply yielded to the
imperative to do it, and damned be all else. Only Nox's
intercession, her offering of herself to sate my intemperate
lust, aborted my effort. I wronged my friend Jolie, but that
was only the half of it, because my confidence in my own
quality of character was shaken. How could I condemn any
man for yielding to his passion, after that? How could I
consider myself in any way superior, or even equal to others,
in the moral sense? And so I gave up my quest, finding myself
unworthy of it, and let myself sink toward Hell, where it
seemed I belonged. Only Jolie saved me, by refusing to let
me descend, though she was the one I had wronged.

"She brought me to this host so that I would not sink the
moment she let go of my soul. Here I became immersed in
the horrors of a girl of the street, and realized that it was not
enough merely to condemn myself for my fall; I had to try
to do something about the evil that was around me and in
me. Then the host came to you, and I came to know you,
Roque. I had forgotten that there are differences in men, as

there are in women. Forgotten that I had known and loved
a good man, Norton. Indeed, now I saw that I had not loved
him enough. When my baby died, all I could think of was
the baby, and I went to join him. Now I see how badly I
wronged Norton, who loved me. I could not save my baby,
but I could have saved my relationship with Norton. So I
was doing wrong before I went to Nox. I had been
intemperate in my narrow vision, and came to understand it
and rue it too late.

"But now, for a time, I am alive again, borrowing the
body of a girl. Temporary though it may be, I am resolved
to acquit myself better than I did in my own life. My crime
was to neglect the importance of the personal relationship,
to underrate love. You have helped show me that, by being
what you are: a fair and generous man. Vita loves you,
Roque, and I am not sure that this is a fleeting fancy. It is
my wish to intercede in what manner I may to facilitate the
consummation of her love during the window that is
available to it. Soon she will return home and that window
will be closed. I am aware that you do not wish to have an
untoward relationship with a girl who is below the legal age
of consent. But if you will have one with me, in the
knowledge that she is present—"

"I will not," Roque said firmly. "I will deal with her
directly, invoking no surrogate."

"And this is the other aspect of what you have done for
me," she continued, unperturbed. "You have shown me
that it is possible for a man to withstand temptation. I know
the forces that are in you, for I have experienced them
myself. But what overwhelmed me, you control so consis-
tently that never by word or glance or deed do you yield to
it. I envy you that control, and I admire you for that and all
that you are. You are another man I could love, Roque; I do
not do so because it is no longer my prerogative. I cannot
make up in death what I squandered in life. But now I have
the assurance that to be male is not necessarily to be evil,
and I thank you for restoring that perspective to me."




114               Piers Anthony

"I thank you for your candor," Roque said. "I wish I
had known you during your life. Perhaps I wish that I could
have been the man to approach you, in your ghost marriage,
for there is much that I like about your attitude. Of course,
I might not have glowed the way your lover did—"

"You do glow, brightly," she said. "You would
certainly have qualified. In fact, you would qualify for
almost any woman. How is it that you are not married?"

"I really am not apt with women," Roque confessed.
"Somehow it seemed that each woman in whom I might
have taken an interest was taken by a more aggressive or
endowed man. Justice was always my passion, and the girls
had other interests. So I never married, to my regret."

"Had any woman come to know you as we are coming
to know you, things would have been different."

"It is kind of you to say so. In fact I very much

appreciate the sentiment."

"Perhaps we should sleep now," she said, closing her
eyes in the darkness, half expecting him to make some sort
of a move, for she was very close to him.

"Of course." He made no move, though his glow
showed his desire.

Next day they took another hike, admiring the scenery
both great and small. Roque had an interest in all things
natural and was happy to discourse on it, and Orlene and
Vita were happy to listen, for their separate reasons: Orlene
remembered Norton's similar interest, and Vita thought that
anything to do with Roque was fascinating.

At night Orlene turned the body over to Vita. Vita
approached Roque. "Vita, here. Tonight is my turn. May I

be with you?"

Roque smiled. "I said I would deal with you directly,
invoking no surrogate. I rather suspected this confrontation

would come."

She put the bags together and linked them, joining him
in her nightie. "I promised to behave, and in these weeks

AND ETERNITT

115

with you, I have come to understand what discipline can be.
Orlene and Jolie taught me a lot, and not just about school
subjects. You taught me a lot, too, Roque, and not just in
court. So I think this time I can be near you without going
haywire, but if I lose my grip, Orlene will take over so you
won't be embarrassed."

"This is commendable," Roque replied.
"You know how I feel about you, and I know you have
no interest in juvenile girls, but would it be too far out of
line if I asked you to sort of put your arms around me?"

"You are in error about one of your assumptions,
Vita."

She froze. "I'm sorry, I guess I asked too much."

"No, your request was reasonable in the circumstance."
He put his arms around her^ bringing her close to him.

She was almost afraid to move, lest he change his mind.
"Thank you, Roque. It means so much to me. After the
experience I've had, it's really been neat to be with a man
who didn't want to, you know. I'm really sorry I came on
to you the way I did before. I guess control and restraint are
the biggest things I've been learning. I just somehow
thought that the only way to please a man was—"

"Please desist, before you embarrass me further."

"Sorry," she said, chagrined.

"There is something I must tell you," he said gravely.
"Aspects of it may not please you, and if that is the case,
you have my apology, and I will understand if you prefer to
separate yourself from me."

"You're going to send me home!" she cried, stricken.
"No. Were you listening when I talked with Orlene last
night?"

"Yes," she said faintly.

"Then you are aware that I have never married and
never was able to develop a close association with a
member of the opposite sex. There is an aspect I did not
discuss, however."

"No! You can't be gay!" she exclaimed in horror.




Piers Anthony

116 AND ETERNITY 117

He laughed. "No, that is not my situation. But certainly
I have had a secret vice. I am, despite your impression,
typical of men in my desires. In my private imagination for
many years I have pictured an event of a nature I have never
cared to advertise. In this vision an attractive young woman
approaches me and states that she has conceived an inordi-
nate passion for me and wishes to indulge herself with me
in the wildest of sexual orgies. This is of course forbidden,
for she may not even be of legal age. Yet in my vision I am
sorely tempted, assured that no other party would know."

Vita lifted her head. "You're joking!"

"Far from it. When you stated that you wished to be my
mistress, you fulfilled that secret desire. I knew that I
should send you immediately to some other facility. I knew
that I was wrong in my failure to do that. Even then, I knew
that in time you and I would find ourselves as we are now.
I accepted the ruse of Orlene's control, knowing that she
would free you for this encounter. Therefore, I can not
claim any surprise; I wanted to be alone with you. This is
the manner you have misread me; I am no better than any of
the men who have used you in the past."

Vita was stunned. "You—You wanted me all the

time?"

"I did. I fought against it, knowing how wrong it was to
implement any part of my fell vision, and lost. But I assure
you that this is as far as it will go. I have no intention of
molesting you, and if I have repulsed you by this confession,

I certainly understand."

"But last night Orlene was willing, and you didn't

touch her."

"That was less nobility than expedience. My desire is
not for Orlene, though certainly I would be interested if that
were her wish. My desire is for you."

"But you knew I was watching! You could have done it
with her, and I could've pretended it was me."

"She offered herself as a legitimizing personality, she
being of age and experience to know her mind. She did not

truly desire this kind of interaction with me, but felt that she
owed it to you, for the use you have allowed her of your
body. I find that a fine gesture on her part, but it is not one
I care to indulge. My vision is illicit; my desire is for the
body and personality of youth."

"Young flesh!" she exclaimed. "All day you put away
pimps and women who do it, and you crave it yourself!"
"That is my secret shame. I regret destroying your
image of me, but I felt you should know the truth."

"You don't really care for me, you just want young
flesh!" she charged.

"The irony is that I do care for you. I have been
impressed by the manner you settled down and worked at
learning, and by your increasingly proper deportment. I
know that many times at meals and during our walks in the
roof park the others have relinquished your body to you,
and that after your first declaration, you have not shamed
yourself in your actions or words. You have been helpful to
Vaasta; indeed, she has spoken favorably of you. You are
becoming a fine young woman, and it ill behooves me to
interfere with that. This is why my illicit passion for your
flesh is such an evil; it spoils what would otherwise be an
excellent relationship."

"But you know if you asked me, I'd be glad to spread
my legs for you!"

"That is one reason I have not asked you. The willing-
ness of the girl does not excuse sexual abuse."

"So you just figured to get me here like this, and tell me
your desire, and that'll maybe turn me off, and it'll be
over," Vita said. "You aren't one for force or rape or
anything like that."

"I am afraid so."

"But you sort of hoped it wouldn't turn me off, and I'd
dive right in with you anyway."

"It is the time for candor."

Vita thought about it, not moving from his embrace. "I
guess I should ask Orlene."




Piers Anthony

118 AND ETERNITY 119

"She well might have some sage advice for you at this

stage."

"But I'm not going to. You know what I really wanted,

when I said I wanted to be your mistress?"

"Love, security, attention."

"That's right! And the best way I ever knew to get it
was to please a man, and the best way to please a man was
by having sex with him. I didn't know any other way to win
your interest, and I wanted it real bad."

"I think I was aware of that too. Certainly you are not

obliged to prostitute yourself to me for—"

"Oh, shut up, Roque! / want your love! Now I know
that it's not the same as your sex. Can you say you love

me?"

Roque hesitated. "I cannot say I do not."
"Why not just lie to me?" she flared. "Say the magic

word, and I'll do anything you want!"

"This is, of course, standard procedure with men," he

said. "To tell a woman it is love, when the true object is

merely sex. I would not care to deceive you in that

manner."

"Why not?" she demanded.

"It would not be ethical. But apart from that, I am
uncertain of my feeling for you. It would be foolish for a
middle-aged man to love a child in that manner."

"Then tell me you don't love me!"

"I cannot."
"If I can't have your love, I'll give it to you for honesty.

Nobody ever seemed to care much before how I felt about
it, and you do."

"True."
"Oh Roque, could you maybe just kiss me and see how

it is?"

"I am not certain that would be wise."
"So call me out of order!" she said, and turned her face

to find his in the dark. She kissed him emphatically.
He remained passive for a moment, then his arms

tightened around her. He kissed her back. It seemed to go
on forever, and her feeling ignited, and she half climbed on
him, trying to get closer than close.

"Oh, Roque," she gasped. "If that isn't love, I'll settle
for it!"

"It is passion," he said. "Not to be trusted."

"Look, I know a girl's not supposed to get all hot and
eager, especially when she's underage, but I've just got to
have you! All those bad men I've had in me, let me get one
good one and erase all the rest!"

"This isn't right—" he began.

"You have your vision, I have mine too! I want you to
want me, to want me so bad you just can't help yourself,"
she said, clawing out of her nightie. "Maybe the world will
end tomorrow if you do it, but you're so hot you don't care,
you just gotta have me, and I'm yours, Roque, I'm yours."
Free of her clothing, she started to work on his. "Your
vision is my vision, you crafted it just for me—that's what
I want to believe!"

He could not withhold his mounting passion. "Ask
Orlene!" he cried. "Ask her if she can tolerate this!"

You're doing great, girl! Orlene thought, feeling hot
herself. Maybe it is wrong, but it's got to be!

"She says to go for it!" Vita panted, getting his
pajamas open.

"We shall surely regret this in the morning," he said,
his resistance crumbling.

Then they were kissing again, and merging, and Vita
felt the thrust of his loin and the jet of his culmination, and
she went into a feeling she had never had before in sex with
a man, and clung to him and stretched to kiss him and touch
his tongue with hers while the feeling spread through the
rest of her body. "Oh, Roque! Oh, Roque!" she breathed,
over and over.

"Oh, my darling," he breathed back. "Though I go to
Hell, it is worth it!"

"I'll go there with you, my darling, my love!" she




120

AND ETERNITY         121

Piers Anthony

babbled, clinging to him, trying to keep the fading feeling,
trying to hold him within her. But it was useless; they had
to separate, lying beside each other.

"We have been quite crazy," he remarked.
"Yeah." Then she realized something. "Hey, you

never felt me up!"

She felt the shake of his laughter. "I fear it is late for

that."

"No, it isn't! Here, do it now!" She grabbed for his

hand and hauled it to her breast. "Squeeze!"

He squeezed, gently. "Do you know, it does give me
pleasure, even at this moment when my sexual urgency has

been sated."

"So maybe you really do love me."

"So maybe I do," he echoed.

She caught his hand again, guiding it to her other breast.
"Every one of my Johns, he was hot to kiss me and feel me
before, but once he got his meat in, that was all, he just
wanted to be outa there. How come it's different now?"

"Because we did it for love."

"Oh, Roque, can you say it now?"

"I think perhaps I can, foolish though I know it to be."

"Say it! Oh, say it!"

"I love you. Vita," he said.

"I love you, Roque." She had thrilled to his presence,
and to their dialogue, and to their culmination, but the thrill
she felt now was deeper and finer than any of these.
"Promise me you won't change your mind in the morning!"

"You know I cannot promise that. Vita. In the morning
the full realization of my folly will be upon me."

"Well, it won't be on me! I could stay here like this

forever!"

"So could I, Vita. But morning will come despite us."

Morning did come. Vita did not remember sleeping, just
lying there holding his hand to her breasts, but now the light
was filtering in past the cabin curtains. Roque was in his
bathrobe, clean-shaven, his hair combed.

He saw her stirring. "Perhaps I should absent myself
while you clean up and dress," he said.

She felt her hair plastered to her face in sodden hanks.
They had sweated last night! "I must be a sight!"

"You are beautiful." He walked toward the door.

She scrambled up, heedless of her nakedness, and ran to
him. "Don't go, Roque! I've got this notion that if you do,
you'll never come back! You'll realize it was all a terrible
mistake, and you'll resolve to never let it happen again and
I'll lose you forever!"

"Well—"

She caught him and tore open his robe, then plastered
herself against him. "Please, please, please, Roque, this is
all the time we have. I swear I'll behave when we're back
in the city, let me be your nymphet now!"

"You are trying to seduce me!" he exclaimed with
mock outrage.

"Anything you want, Roque! I've been waiting all my
life for right now, and I'll never have another time like this.
I've got to make the most of it! I love you, I love you!"

"And I love you—even in the morning," he said, and
she knew she had won.

"Don't forget to feel me," she reminded him.

"You are amazing," he said, running his hand over her
buttocks.

Soon they were into sex again. She didn't think of it as
making love, because this entire experience was an unre-
mitting making of love; the sex was only its most emphatic
manifestation.

Jolie woke from the vision of the memory. "The whole
vacation?" she asked, flabbergasted. "Solid sex? You were
more than naughty!"

Solid love, Oriene corrected. / thought I was going to
have a limited affair with him, for the benefit of Vita, but she
wound up doing it herself.

You liked it too! Vita put in.

/ liked it too, Oriene agreed. / stayed out of it, overtly,




222 Piers Anthony

AND ETEKNITT

123

but really I did participate. We were wanton! That poor
man hardly got any rest at all. Now we leave the pieces for
you to pick up.

Jolie tried to be angry, but this vision was too fresh and
strong, too full of the delight of abandon. She remembered
her seduction of Parry when he was a friar. How sweet it
had been—but with what a consequence!

Unfortunately this, too, would have a consequence.
Now Jolie remembered something she seemed to have
forgotten. "I must tell you something I learned," she
subvocalized. "You must not repeat this to any mortal. We
want .to consider Judge Scott as a candidate to become an
Incarnation. This means that I shall be observing him to
decide to what degree he qualifies. But-—"

Oh, no! Orlene thought. And we just caused him to sin!

"Gaea disagrees. She feels that natural, consenting love
is no sin, and if it is to be considered such, then the
definitions of sin need amending."

Yes! Orlene agreed. He is a good man. he deserves an
Office!

But if he should become an Incarnation, Vita asked,
what would become of him?

"He would step into an immortal plane and leave his
ordinary mortal existence behind. He would no longer age,
or be vulnerable to mortal mishap."

So then he wouldn't be interested in any nymphet.

Jolie saw her point. "You knew this could not be per-
manent, Vita. In fact, it could not extend beyond your one
wild fling. So that wouldn't make any difference to you."

Yes, it would! I want to be near him always!

"However, if there should be any longer-term relation-
ship, it is not unknown for Incarnations to retain them,"
Jolie continued. "I maintain a relationship with an Incar-
nation, though I am a ghost, and Luna Kaftan maintains one
with the Incarnation of Death."

Maybe there's a chance for me. Vita thought, relieved.
Which Incarnation is he being considered for?

Here Jolie drew a blank. "I—I think it could be any one
of them. But each is so important mat it is vital that no
errors be made."

Vita was dismayed. We made him sin—and now he
won't qualify? she asked.

He didn't sin! Orlene demurred. Maybe we did, but he
didn't. He tried to do the decent thing all along, but in the
end he was human, and I am glad of it.

"The question is, how does he feel about it?" Jolie
asked. "If he feels it was a sin, then there is evil on his soul,
and it will hurt him."

Perhaps you should ask him, Orlene suggested.

Jolie sighed, knowing she would have to do it.

She broached the matter as they rode the carpet to the
city. "I understand the girls were active during my ab-
sence," she said.

"Exceedingly," he admitted. "I am sure you are aware
that my interaction was with the child, not the woman,
despite expectations."

He would not bend a bit to protect himself! "What are
your intentions?"

"I shall report myself to the board of ethics, which I
suspect will suspend me pending investigation and retire me
thereafter."

She had been afraid of this. "Roque, I left because I felt
that what was contemplated was wrong. But now I see it
otherwise. There was no force, no coercion, no promises
founded or unfounded. There was only love between man
and woman. A young woman, granted, but old enough in
experience and in guidance to know her mind. I don't
believe that should be the concern of the board of ethics."

"The law is clear, and I am charged with the upholding
of it. When I transgress, I must pay the price."

"When the board investigates, they will question the
girl. She will testify that nothing untoward happened. What
will then be the disposition of the case?"




124

Piers Anthony

"But that would be untrue!" he exclaimed.

"The girl is young and has a checkered history. She
knows what would happen to you and to herself if she
confirmed any intimacy between the two of you. Do you
think she will indict you?"

He stared at her. "This is blackmail!"

"This is reason. In your heart you know that no crime
was committed and that the lodging of the report you
contemplate would only hurt each of you. What is your
ultimate definition of justice?''

"You speak like a creature from Hell!"

"I am the consort of the Master of Hell."

He pondered. "The girl must leave my house. Only
then may we be assured that the event was isolated."

No! Vita thought.

"She loves you, Roque."

"And I love her. But it must be."

Jolie sighed. "You are a good man. Judge Scott. You
hold to higher standards than we do. We shall depart your
residence at our earliest convenience."

No! I can't! I'll die!

Quiet, you silly child! Orlene snapped. She has some-
thing in mind.

"Thank you, Jolie," the Judge said, looking miserable.

"You are not welcome, Roque."

At that he had to smile. "I think it best that you not
relinquish control until the departure is accomplished."

Jolie nodded. He was indeed a good man.

6

DEATH

Jolie took them to Luna's office. She borrowed the Judge's
personal carpet; it would return to him on its own when she
got off and dismissed it.

So what's your plan? Vita demanded. You know it's my
body; you can't keep me away from him forever!

"I can as long as I retain control," Jolie said. "But fear
not, I am on the side of romance, having been the route
myself. The Judge had to do what he did; it was his
compromise after I threatened him with your noncoopera-
tion. If he couldn't pay the penalty for his deed, he had to
make certain that no further abuse occurred. So he will not
report the matter, and you are gone from his household. But
that does not mean gone from his life. We shall be seeing
him again soon enough, I'm sure."

When? How?

"We are about to determine that. Meanwhile, Orlene, I
think it is time we resumed your quest for your baby. You
have recovered your equilibrium, and can now exist as a
ghost without sinking to Hell."

Oh, Jolie, of course I want to do that! But—

"But you are halfway in love with Roque yourself, and
wish to leave him hardly more than Vita does."

225

Piers Anthony

126

It is true. I have not forgotten Norton, nor do I wish to
encroach on Vita's interest, but—

It's okay, Orlene! I feel so much better with you along.
Without you I couldn't have been with Roque on that
vacation, and even when you let me do it with him, you were
there, helping me not to make too much of a fool of myself.
Without you I'd revert to H; I know you and Jolie are
helping me get over the craving, and with three it's much
easier than alone. I really need you! I have no jealousy of
you; you're part of what Roque sees in me.

"So I believe that the three of us should remain
together," Jolie said. "Working to accomplish both your
desires, and mine too."

Yours too?

"I am highly impressed with Roque Scott, and not just
because of the way you girls feel about him. I think he just
might qualify to be an Incarnation, and I want to watch him
closely with that in mind, so that I can make a full report
when the time comes. So my job is compatible with yours;

we can watch him, and sometimes be with him, and try to
recover your baby, together. Of course we shall have to take

some turns."

Agreed, Orlene thought, relieved. / confess that when
you said I could leave this host, I was afraid; I prefer
residence in the living state to being a ghost, and I very

much like Vita's company.

You do? I thought you regarded me as an impulsive

juvenile.

I do. You do things I would never unbend enough to do.
The way you tore open Roque's robe—but I loved being
along for the ride. You lend excitement to my life—I mean,

my death.

And you lend maturity to mine. Vita thought, pleased.
When you two came, I thought. What the hell is this, spooks
messing up my life even worse than it was, keeping me from
the H. But you're better than H! You got me to Roque, and
you're teaching me so much, I really think I can be
something when I grow up.

AND ETERNITY         127

"So I think we are agreed," Jolie said. "We shall work
together, until it seems appropriate to separate, and perhaps
we shall in time achieve all our desires." The truth was that
she, too, rather liked experiencing the living state again.
She had never had enough of it, the first time, with Parry.

We are agreed, Orlene thought.

Great! Vita added.

The secretary in Luna's office looked up. "May I help
you?"

"I need to see Senator Kaftan," Jolie said.

"The Senator is away from the city this week. Do you
wish to make an appointment?"

That wouldn't do; they needed a residence today. Jolie,
in her concern with moving them out of the Judge's
residence, had not anticipated this.

Maybe Mom . . .

Good notion! "Is Vera here?" The folk at Luna's office
were all first names, as was Luna herself, normally.

"Why yes, you may see her if you wish."

"I will have to put you back in charge," Jolie mur-
mured.

They were shown into a back office piled with books
and papers and video screens: the research department.
There was a woman who looked a lot like Vita, thirty years
older.

"Mom!"

The woman looked up, startled, and burst into tears.
Vita went over and hugged her, crying herself.

Before long they were comparing brief notes. It seemed
that Vera had gotten a notion of the problem in the family,
but didn't want to speak of it openly. She did not importune
Vita to return home. Vita was at pains to explain that though
something had caused her to leave, and that she had had
some bad times, she was now much better off and perhaps
even had a better life than she might have had.

"I've been staying with Judge Scott," she concluded.
"He has a housekeeper who's nice, but you know he can't







128

Piers Anthony                                       AND ETEKNITT

129

keep a juvenile girl in his house forever, it would look
wrong, so I have to move out. I've got a friend with me, a
ghost, and when I need to do something adult, she takes
over. We're going to do some traveling, and we're helping
in your research, maybe."

Vera's look indicated that she had a glimmer of why
her daughter had to depart the presence of the Judge, but
again she preferred to let it lie. It was obvious that Vita
was physically healthy and emotionally sound, and that
was an immeasurable reassurance. "You know of my

research?"

"Some, Mom. The final confrontation between Good

and Evil, when—"

"Enough! You are helping in this?"
"In part. Looking for candidates for—"
"Don't say it! Satan's minions are everywhere."
"Satan knows it's coming, Mom. Anyway, I sort of

need a place to stay, for a while, until I travel. We thought

Luna might know—"

"Let me ask." She got up and hurried out.
In a moment she returned, the look of surprise still on

her face. "Luna left word: you are to go to her house

immediately. It seems that Judge Scott notified her."
"The Judge is a great man. Mom."
"I am not sure I grasp all of what is going on here."
"I guess you know. Mom, it was Luna who sent the

ghost to me, to get me straightened out. She wanted you to

feel at ease. The Judge, when he learned about her

involvement, decided to help."
"She is a great woman."
"I guess that's why she and the Judge understand each

other so well."

"There seems to be a good deal of understanding,"

Vera remarked somewhat wryly.

A carpet took them to Luna's estate. The two griffins
charged up as it came down. Jolie took over. "Griffith!
Grissel!" she called. "Smell my soul!"

They recognized an approved visitor and relaxed. They
stopped at the front door, cautiously. "Muir!" she called to
the moon moth within. "It's me, Jolie, in human host."

Muir, too, recognized her, and she entered without
challenge. Gee, Vita remarked, impressed.

They walked through the house, admiring the aura
paintings on the walls. Luna could see auras, Jolie explained
to the others, and so could judge people in much the manner
Orlene could. Perhaps that was not surprising, for Orlene
was very like a niece to her.

There was a note on the kitchen counter. WELCOME,

TRIO. FOOD IS AVAILABLE. USE THE EAST ROOM. DRESS IN
SOMETHING NICE.

"Dress in something nice?" Jolie asked, perplexed.
"To stay alone until she returns?"

They checked the East Room. It was a beautiful suite,
complete with a closet stocked with several lovely dresses
of the appropriate size. There were slipper-shoes which fit
Vita's feet perfectly. There would be no problem dressing
nicely!

They made a project of it, taking a good bath, washing
the hair and putting a slow curve in it by using a spellstone
designed for that purpose, and donning a dress that was first
cousin to an evening gown. Vita had filled out during her
time with the Judge and now looked impressive in the low
decolletage. / think I've been turned into a princess for a
night! she thought admiringly.

There was the sound of a chime. They tripped down to
the front door, uncertain who could be calling, but certain
that Muir would allow no intruder.

Roque Scott stood there. He gazed at them, astonished.
"Here?" he asked.

Jolie turned the body over to Vita. "Oh, Roque!" she
breathed. "Don't go away!"

He stepped up and swept her into his arms. "This is not
my house," he said. "I am not obliged to enforce standards
here."




130               Piers Anthony

"Shut up and get on to the endearments," she said,

lifting her face for a kiss.

"You are delightfully forward, my juvenile delight."
"I'm too young to know any better. How come you're

here?"

"I received a message from Luna's office, asking me to

check on an item of some value at her house. Naturally I
came here after work, knowing that she would not ask such

a favor capriciously."

"We didn't see anything," Vita said.
"Of course you didn't, my darling innocent." He

stroked her hair.

She tittered, catching on. "Gee, it's fun to be inno-
cent!"

Maybe we should depart for a few hours, Jolie thought.

"No!" Vita said.
Roque's hand, having proceeded beyond the length of

her tresses and on down her back toward her rear, froze.

"No?"

She laughed. "I didn't mean you, Roque! I want you to

feel me. I was talking to Jolie. She wants to go away."

"She did before," he pointed out.

"With Orlene this time. So I can be all the way alone
with you. But I'm afraid I'd screw it up."

"Well . . ."

' 'Oh, you know what I mean! I want to be good for you,
Roque, and on my own I keep getting too wild. I'd get the
shakes, for sure, and turn you off, and I sure don't want to

do that! So I don't want them to go."

' 'In that case, I am certainly amenable to their continued
presence. I must confess that I do feel easier knowing that
a woman of adult experience is monitoring the proceedings,
because it allays my concern about taking advantage of one

who is young."

But I'm another man's wife! Jolie protested.
"Maybe you better talk to Jolie," Vita said. "Give me

one good feel before I put her on."

AND ETERNITY         131

His hand resumed its motion downward—at which point
Vita gave the body to Jolie. He squeezed her buttock. Jolie
clamped her teeth, trying to look neutral.

"The gamin!" he exclaimed, realizing. He was now
able to recognize them separately, by their manners.

Jolie disengaged. "As we know, she is young," she
said. "And full of mischief.'' She walked to a couch and sat
down, crossing her legs demurely at the ankles.

He took a seat across the room. "Perhaps your reasons
for bringing Vita to me were mixed. As you know, I
succumbed, and you and I agreed to do the appropriate
thing. I think you were aware that I did not truly wish to
separate from her, and I think you are not averse to our
meeting in a situation like this. Your absence is thus a mere
formality or courtesy which need not be invoked at this
stage."

"I am the wife or consort of Satan,'' Jolie replied.' 'I do
not care to be present in the body of a woman who is
making love to another man. Orlene may certainly remain,
but I prefer to absent myself."

"I am minded to debate the issue," he said, "if you are
willing. If you do not approve my liaison with Vita, you can
not excuse yourself merely by being absent in a manner you
know will facilitate it."

"That isn't what I said!" Jolie said, stung. "I did have
doubts, but subsequent thought has eased them, and I now
feel that the two of you should be allowed your love. My
presence or absence shouldn't affect that. But my own—"

"Yes. You do not wish to engage in the appearance of
impropriety. I understand this consideration rather well. But
this, too, I question. If I understand it correctly, your
marriage to the man who is now the holder of the Office of
the Incarnation of Evil dissolved when you died. He
subsequently remarried, and you now join his present wife
in amorous engagements. Thus the experience of joint
involvement is not foreign to you."

He had it exactly! A thought had been growing beneath




Piers Anthony

132

Jolie's level of consciousness, and now it surfaced. If she
was to study this man as a potential candidate for the Office
of an Incarnation, she could hardly do so by deliberately not
observing him in moments of his passion. She had to
understand him fully. She also needed to know how he
approached matters of ethics and questions of propriety.
Also, how he related to the underlying questions of Good
and Evil. That meant she should remain.

Still, she had a problem. "It is more than the appear-
ance, Roque. I do not love you and do not wish to be
embraced by you, even in surrogate. I would feel extremely
awkward about returning to my husband—or, if you will,

consort—after—''

"There is also this to consider: Satan surely has been
ultimate with a great many women over the course of his
tenure, yet you still love him and wish to join him at every
opportunity. Do you hold to a standard you do not expect of

him?"

Ouch! The days of Jolie's sexual innocence had been
left behind centuries ago. She no longer believed in a
double standard. She knew Parry had had long and extreme
affairs with the likes of the demoness Lilah and the damned
soul Nefertiti, yet had returned gladly to her when she
remanifested. What counted, in the end, was not his
dalliances during her absence, but the way he felt about her,
and she about him. He had never loved the demoness or the
damned soul; he had loved Jolie. Now he loved Gaea—and
still loved Jolie. Was she so much less certain of her love

for him?

"I think you have made your case, Roque," she said.

"I will remain."

He smiled briefly. "As you wish."
"But one more thing, before I submerge. How do you

feel about Satan?"

"I suppose that is a fair question, from one who loves
him. I am adamantly in the opposite camp, and wish to
support the forces of Good in every respect. Yet I see the

AND ETERNITY         133

need for a repository of damned souls, until they can be
redeemed, and therefore I concede the need for a supervisor
of that repository. As I understand it, Satan is not actually
evil, just as Thanatos is not actually dead; he is merely a
human person handling an unusual and often unrewarding
job. I think you would not love him were that not the case,
just as Luna would not love Thanatos."

A fair answer indeed! "Suppose you ever found yourself
in a position to—to negotiate with Satan on some matter.
Would you do it?"

"Of course. I feel that I am already, whenever I decide
whether a given person should be punished or rehabilitated
or go free. Satan is attempting to evoke the Evil; I am
attempting to evoke the Good. It is, in a fashion, a
continuing exercise in classification and treatment."

This man was certainly, to Jolie's way of thinking,
a prime prospect! "So you, knowing that one who is close

to Satan is with the woman you love, do not feel threat-
ened."

"Satan never threatened any person whose convictions
and practices were good.''

"I think Luna might disagree."
"Luna is perhaps an exception," he admitted. "She is

pivotal. But I think it is not her soul he threatens, only her
political power."

"You impress me, Roque."

"Jolie, you impress me also. I thought I was dealing
with a wayward girl, and then you manifested, and the
case became inordinately more interesting. I had no intent
to take Vita into my residence, until I became aware that
you were in control. Then I realized that rehabilitation of
the girl was not only possible, it was already in progress,
and I did my best to facilitate your effort. Certainly you
have been in no sense a malign influence. My subsequent
relation with Vita, though unintended, was thus a direct
result of your involvement. For that I must thank you.
However wrong it may be technically, I now believe it is




134              Piers Anthony

right ethically. You have brought light into my life, and I

shall always be grateful."

"I, too, am glad it happened," Jolie said. And she

wondered: could Luna have known this too? That Judge
Scott was a worthy prospect to be an Incarnation, and that
Jolie would discover this by the time she shepherded Vita
through her problem? It seemed likely, now.

She returned the body to Vita, who promptly jumped up
and flung herself across to Roque. "What were you trying
to do, pinching Jolie like that?" she demanded, plumping

into his lap.

"By your mischief," he said. "What is this delight you

have in being impertinently handled?"

"I hated it when my Johns did it," she confessed. "I
hated everything about them. But I did catch on to what
men like. Now I've got a man / like, I want to be sure
I'm giving him a good time." She drew up her knees so
that her dress fell away, and guided his hand to her inner

thigh.

"I trust you realize that this is shameless exploitation."

But his hand did slide along her skin caressingly.

"You can do better than that," she said. "Come on,

what are panties for, anyway?"

"For dirty old men's delight," he said. "Still, I would

not want to spoil your pretty outfit.''

"I'll take it off!" she said eagerly, and began scram-
bling to do just that.

All that effort we made, dressing her—gone! Oriene

thought with resignation.

"But this sheer enthusiasm on your part continues to

amaze me. How did you come by it?"

"I guess I just so much wanted to be wanted," she said.
"Not just used and thrown away, but loved and needed
forever. Maybe when I get older I'll really like just to talk
with you, the way Jolie and Oriene do, but right now I just
want you so hot for me you can't think of anything else."
She was bare, now, in record time.

AND ETERNITY

135

"Perhaps we should retire to a more appropriate place,"
he suggested.

"Like a bed. This way!" She bounded off again and
hauled him along after her.

Soon he joined her there, unclothed. He kissed her and
held her and squeezed her in intimate places, exactly as she
demanded. / wish I had thought of this sort of thing when
alive, Oriene thought.

Jolie had to agree. Vita's passion was not feigned; her
body was humming with desire, and it affected all of them.
She recalled the saying that a man gave love for sex, while
a woman gave sex for love. This was certainly true here, but
each aspect was so intense and pervasive that the dividing
line ceased to have meaning. The two were giving passion
for passion, reveling in it, delighting in its grandeur and its
naughtiness.

So it was that Jolie was along for the ride, as Oriene had
been before, and the revels of the couple became her own.
She knew that next time she merged with Gaea and went to
see their man, she was going to give him a show and an
experience he hadn't had in years. There was much to be
said for exuberance.

The next morning Thanatos appeared. "I understand
you are ready to resume your quest," he said.

Vita screeched in terror and leaped out of bed. She was,
as was her wont after sex, naked; Jolie had left her alone.

That's Thanatos, Jolie explained. He brought us to you.
We have nothing to fear from him.

"Oh." Vita hastily turned the body over to Oriene, who
as hastily wrapped a sheet about herself. They had been
lying abed late, after the strenuous activity of the early part
of the evening, and he bad come upon them unawares.
That, of course, was often the way of Death.

"I, yes," Oriene said. "Thanks in part to you, I am no
longer in danger of descending to Hell. But when Jolie talked
with you before, you told her it was impossible, or nearly.''




136

Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 137

"The quest must continue, regardless. From me you
need a blank soul?"

"So I understand. To transfer—"

"Come with me."

Orlene hesitated, remembering how Thanatos had come
for her when she died and she had fled him. Have no fear,
Jolie thought. He is a good man, as well as a good
Incarnation.

"May I dress first?"

"Dress," he agreed.

She paused, but he did not retreat or disappear. Just go
ahead and do it, Jolie urged. He doesn't even realize there
could be a problem, after all the naked souls he's seen.

Orlene went to the closet, snatched down a decent dress,
and grabbed for the rest of what she needed. She carried
them into the bathroom and got herself in order as quickly
as she could. Thanatos waited impassively, seeming not to

move at all.

"I'm ready," she said, emerging. But he was already
on his way, and she had to run to catch up. She didn't dare
ask where they were going.

In the yard the death-steed Mortis was grazing. Oh, look
at that! Vita thought. As with many girls of her age, she
was thrilled by the notion of a horse, any horse.

Thanatos glanced at his deathwatch. He turned and put
his hands at Oriene's sides. He lifted, and the horse came up
and stood before them, so that Thanatos could set her on.
Then Thanatos mounted behind her, putting one arm around
her in an impersonal way to keep her secure.

The horse took off. There was no wind, no tilt, but
suddenly they were riding upward through the sky, leaving
the city below. Ooooo! Vita squealed in awed delight.

"Mortis likes you too," Thanatos remarked.

You can hear me?

"I hear your soul. Vita."

/ like this too, Jolie thought.

"Women do," he agreed.

They peered down to see fluffy cotton-ball clouds
below. Mortis was galloping on air, moving far faster than
any mortal animal could. On occasion his hooves kicked up
divots of cloud dust, which dissolved behind them. The
scene was beautiful, with the morning beams of the sun
spearing out from the east, lighting the near sides of the
clouds.

/ begin to get a notion what Luna sees in Death, if he
takes her on rides like this! Vita thought.

"On occasion," Thanatos agreed.

Then the steed was moving down to another city. They
had no idea where it was; the speed and magic had been
such that it could be anywhere. They had departed at dawn,
local time; here it was afternoon.

They landed on a city street amidst traffic. Orlene
flinched as a car charged toward them—but it passed right
through them as if they were ghosts. Yet of course they
were not ghosts, exactly; Vita's body was alive and solid,
so that meant that Thanatos and Mortis had to be solid, too,
to lift and carry her as they had.

Magic, Jolie reminded her.

"True," Thanatos agreed. "Mortals can neither per-
ceive nor affect us unless we wish it."

The horse walked across the street and into a solid wall.
They passed through the wall and into a lighted factory
region at the base of a megabuilding. "This man is about to
die of a rare internal electrical imbalance," Thanatos said,
dismounting and approaching one of the workers. Sure
enough, the man paused before his equipment, and fell
back, looking startled.

Thanatos stepped in and reached out to the man—but
not to help support him. His hand passed into the man's
body without resistance and out again, holding the man's
soul. The soul came out in a translucent skein, mottled by
black patches and white, distorting out of shape. The body
sank to the floor, its eyes staring as if still startled.

"But you never gave him a chance!" Orlene protested.




r

138               Piers Anthony

"He might have recovered had you not swept out his soul!"

"He would have endured until I took his soul, but not
for recovery. I acted promptly so as to spare him unnec-
essary pain. When a soul is in balance, a person can not die
until it is removed, no matter how hopeless the physical
case." As he spoke he was folding the soul like so much
gossamer, until it was wadded into a ball, which he placed

in a little bag.

He returned to Mortis and mounted. The horse walked

back through the wall, then galloped into the air again.
"How can you just take lives, all day?" Orlene asked.
"It is a necessary part of human existence," he replied
seriously. "Without death there could soon be no new life.
The old must be cleared away for the new. Even as it is, we

are threatened with overpopulation."

Orlene was silent. She hadn't thought of it that way.
Soon they came down in another city, somewhere in the

world. Mortis halted at a Dumpster similar to the one they

had hidden in when fleeing Vita's pimp, so long ago.

"Your turn, Orlene," he said abruptly.

"What?"
"Within that Dumpster is a newbom infant who will die

within hours if unattended. No mortal knows of his presence
except his mother, who is beyond compassion in this
respect, having such serious difficulties of her own as to be
unable to return. My attention is not necessary, as the baby
is unsullied and will go to Heaven, but to avoid subjecting
him to avoidable agony as the next load of garbage is
dumped, crushing him, I am interceding. You are looking
for a blank soul; this one is close enough. Climb in and take

it."

"But I can't do that!" Orlene protested.
"You are with me, sharing my power for this event by

my extension. Do with him as you saw me do with the last

case, and the soul will come out for you."
Orlene waited a moment, flustered. "But—"
"I understood that you wished above all else to recover

AND ETERNITT

139

and cure your own baby," Thanatos said emotionlessly.
"This is the way to obtain one of the seven elements
required. How serious is your quest?"

Tight-lipped, Orlene got down and approached the
Dumpster. Now they heard it: a faint mewling from within.
They climbed up and peered in.

The baby was there, half swathed in dirty rags, grease
and blood splotched over his body, short dark hair matted to
the tiny skull. "Oh, my God!" Orlene breathed numbly.

So little! Vita thought. / never realized how small they
were. His ankle is no bigger around than my thumb!

Orlene reached forth with a shaking hand to take the
soul. Her teeth were clenched.

No! Vita thought. Don't kill him!

She has to, Jolie thought. It would be cruel to let him
suffocate in garbage, or to die slowly of exposure.

Thanatos is right: it is an act of mercy to take this innocent
soul now.

But he's just an eensy baby! He never did anything to
anyone! He shouldn't be killed, he should be held and
cuddled and nursed and everything!

Those are not his options, Jolie returned, realizing that
they were in effect Orlene's inner voices, her conscience
debating while she hesitated. // is wrong, we know, but the
world is not governed by right, it is governed by circum-
stances, and all we can do is alleviate the most egregious
cases. Sometimes the choice is between evils.

You must be good at that! Vita shot back.

"That's not fair!" Orlene protested. "She's not evil,
she's—"

Oh, damn, I'm sorry! Vita thought with genuine con-
trition. / didn't mean that, Jolie. It's just that I never was
into killing, and this poor baby—

I know, don't I know! Jolie replied. / died before I had

a baby of my own, and then when I came to watch Orlene,
it was like—

I guess we better stop; I don't think we're helping.




140               Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

141

Jolie had to agree. This was Orlene's decision, hard as
it was. Thanatos had given her a cruel lesson in death and
souls!

Oriene reached again for the baby. He took a ragged
breath and cried a little louder, as if aware that death was
upon him.

"I can't!" Oriene cried. "Oh, I just can't!" She put
both hands down and picked up the baby and held him
close.

Jolie and Vita maintained thought silence, not knowing
what would come of this. Probably she had forfeited the
soul she so needed; Thanatos would take it himself and put
the dead baby back. But how else could she have reacted—
this woman who had already lost her own baby and died
herself because of it? What Thanatos had inflicted on her
had been more than cruel, it had been diabolic. Jolie knew
it was not her place to judge him, but she could not accept
this thing he had done.

Oriene climbed out of the Dumpster, managing to bring
the baby along. She came to stand before Thanatos as he sat
on Mortis. She held the baby protectively. "Maybe I have
no right to ask this, but if there is any way to save this baby,
I've got to do it," she said, the tears coming. "I'm a
mother, not a killer."

"That is not your baby," Thanatos said. "You can gain
nothing by interceding."

"I know. I expect nothing. Please."

"But you can salvage the soul, for your purpose."

"I cannot, though I lose my own baby. Please."

"I ask you again to consider just how serious you are
about your quest for your own baby. If you will not do what
is necessary—"

"Oh, Thanatos, I would give my own soul to save my
baby, if it were only clean enough instead of hopelessly
soiled! But I cannot sacrifice this innocent one to my
purpose! This baby should have his chance to live and to
make his own decisions about good and evil as he grows. I

am grief-stricken over the loss of my own, but I cannot help
mine by denying this one his chance. I beg you, I beg
you—spare him, if you possibly can!"

The death's head nodded. "I can, to a degree. Mount."
He extended a bone hand.

Oriene grasped it, holding the baby close with her other
arm. Her weight diminished and she was moved effortlessly
to the front of the great horse.

A short gallop through the air and buildings brought
them to a hospital. "Take him there," Thanatos said, lifting
her down.

Oriene walked into the hospital. She approached the
front desk. "I found this newbom baby in a garbage
dump," she said. "Please take care of him and arrange for
his adoption." She held out the baby.

A nurse appeared and took the baby. "You will have to

make a statement," she said. "Where he was found, what
time—"

"I can't do that," Oriene said, turning away.

"But you must! It is a crime to—"

Mortis walked through the wall. Thanatos reached
down. Oriene caught his hand and was set back on the
horse.

The nurse stared, holding the baby. ' 'She disappeared!''
she exclaimed. "She just disappeared!"

"Sometimes they come like that," the girl at the desk
said. "So there is no legal claim on the baby. We'll take
care of him."

"Yes, we'll take good care of him," the nurse said.
Mortis leaped, passing through the ceiling, through the
various chambers of the hospital, and on out the roof.
Oriene, her effort done, sank into renewed grief. Jolie
understood the temptation that had been on her: to try to
keep the baby herself. She had resisted that, but it hurt. You
did right! she thought.

You did right. Vita echoed.
"Yes, you did right," Thanatos said. "I will save an




142              Piers Anthony

otherwise lost soul for you, from a baby whose situation is
not subject to salvage, and deliver it to you when you have
obtained the artifacts you require from the other Incarna-
tions. You are worthy, in my estimation."

You mean this thing was a test? Vita thought, outraged.

"A soul is infinitely precious," Thanatos replied, un-
perturbed. "I would not yield one to a person who failed to
appreciate its value, not merely as a convenience for a
purpose, but as an entity in itself. This was a necessary
determination. Orlene refused to do what she believed was
wrong, even to achieve the thing she most desired."

But did you have to make her hurt so? Jolie demanded.
Knowing that she had lost her own baby?

' 'The ultimate proof of character is not lightly achieved.
A lesser proof would have been valueless. Incarnations do

not deal in valueless matters."

The understatement of the century! Jolie realized that
Thanatos had been correct in his action, however cruel it
had seemed. Orlene had won her soul not by taking what
was proffered without conscience, but by maintaining her
standards of decency and compassion despite the seeming

cost.

/ think maybe I learned something. Vita thought. /

couldn't've done it myself.

Jolie wasn't sure she could have, either. We thank you,

Thanatos, for this hard lesson, she thought.
"You are welcome, Jolie," he replied.
Mortis landed back in Luna's yard. Orlene got down.
"I, too, thank you, Thanatos," she said. "I will try to get

the other things I need."

"We are not yet finished," Thanatos said, dismounting.

He accompanied her into the house.

"I don't think I understand," Orlene said.
Thanatos took a seat on the same couch that Judge Scott
had used the night before. Jolie was glad that they had
thought to return to pick up Vita's scattered clothing before
sleeping! "The shifting of the course of a life cannot be

AND ETERNITY

143

accomplished by a single Incarnation unilaterally," he said.
"A life is too important for that. In my early days in Office
I sometimes declined to take the souls that were due. I once
saved a drowning man, for example, instead of allowing
him to die. I learned later that both Chronos and Fate had
had to make adjustments to accommodate my action. They
had not spoken of it to me, making allowance for my
inexperience in Office. Now I am more careful, just as other
Incarnations are careful of my prerogatives. Orlene, you
will have to present your case for the baby you saved to
Fate, so that she can decide whether to alter his thread of
life."

"But Fate is—"

"Your natural grandmother," he said.

"My whatf"

Thanatos paused. "I apologize. I see you did not
know."

/ did not tell her, Jolie thought. / thought it best to let
her follow her quest without the complication of that
knowledge.

"My natural grandmother!" Orlene repeated, dazed.
"That may complicate the picture," Thanatos said.
"Nevertheless, it was at your instigation that that baby's
thread of life was rerouted, and it is your responsibility to
obtain the authorization for it. Jolie will be able to guide
you to the Incarnation of Fate, of course."

"I will do it," Orlene agreed. "I agree it is my
responsibility." But she remained shaken by the revelation
of her ancestry.

"You should also check with Chronos."

"The Incarnation of Time? Why?"

"In order to fit this special session into my schedule, I
borrowed time. This has actually been a rerun of time I am
spending in my normal duties, so that I have not sacrificed
them or been rushed. Chronos is tolerant of such occasional
borrowings on my part, but it would be better if you
approached him and explained directly."




144 Piers Anthony

"I need to see him anyway, to get a grain of sand,"
Oriene agreed. "I shall do that forthwith."

"However, in fairness, I must advise you that your
interview with Chronos will not be easy."

Jolie remembered the key thing about the Incarna-
tion of Time: he lived backwards. That complicated things
for every person who interacted with him, mortal or
immortal!

"I will do what I must," Oriene said.

"I think you do not yet grasp the nature of the problem.
Not only does time reverse in his residence, he is a man you
knew in life."

"I knew him? But how could that be? I've only been
dead for a few months! How long has he had the Office?"

"That depends on perspective. By my reckoning, it has
been perhaps twenty-five years; I had not thought to verify
the precise length of his tenure. By his reckoning, it might
be as little as two years."

"Either way, then, I cannot have known him!"

"I believe his given name was Norton."

Oriene stiffened. "Oh, no!"

Thanatos stood. "It is not my concern how you may
handle your interview with another Incarnation. Certainly I
do not wish to interfere in their activities that do not relate
to my proper business. But you seem to be uniquely related
to or involved with more than one Incarnation, in which
number I am included because of my interest in your aunt
Luna, so I have brought this matter up to you. I bid you
good prospects."

"My aunt . . . ?"

"I think I have made another error," he said.

That, too, is true, Jolie thought. Maybe I should have
told you all of it at the outset, but—

"But I was in no condition," Oriene said.

Yes. Then the business with Nox—

Oriene, shaken again, walked to him. "I appreciate
your information, Thanatos." Then she lifted her face and

AND ETEKNITT         14S

kissed him on his lipless mouth. The expressionless skull
face managed to look startled.

Two days later Luna returned. "I trust you were not
bored, being here alone?"

Jolie was back in charge. "By no means, thank you. We
have been tutoring Vita, and getting to know Muir and
Griffith and Grissel, and looking at your wonderful pictures,
and we had visits by Judge Scott and Thanatos."

"The moon moth and griffins seldom have company
they appreciate; I'm sure they have been most pleased. I am
glad you like my paintings; I really have little time to paint
now, but on occasion I still do it, to relax. As for Roque, he
is a good man," Luna said, with an oblique smile that
suggested that she well understood that situation. "Thana-
tos is a good Incarnation." Jolie wasn't certain how she
meant that, knowing that Luna had been Thanatos' mortal
lover for well over a decade.

"We are grateful for your generosity in allowing us to
stay here during your absence," Jolie said. "Now I think
we should find some other lodging, so that—"

Luna looked seriously at her. "I would not think of it.
You, Jolie, are a good friend and incidental liaison with the
enemy. Oriene is family. Vita is the daughter of my
employee and friend Vera, whose situation is still clarifying.
It behooves me to facilitate your various interests. I under-
stand that you, Jolie, are now also doing an observation of
the Judge as a prospect for an Incarnation."

She was really current! "Yes. But it would help if I
know which Incarnation was the most likely prospect. The
Offices are so different—"

"We do not feel free to advertise that at this stage. But
we do need candidates who might be acceptable to all of the
Incarnations."

"But Satan will not agree to any completely good
man!"

"And the others will not agree to any completely bad




146              Piers Anthony

man," Luna agreed. "Therefore our most likely prospects
will be compromises—people with both good and evil. In
truth, the current Incarnations are similar compromises,
brought about by chance and circumstance, doing the best
they can. But we distrust chance, and wish to upgrade
prospects, with no affront intended toward any current

parties."

In other words, she wasn't letting any secrets slip. Jolie

was increasingly curious about this matter. She tried once
more. "When we were with Thanatos, we thought he was
acting cruelly, but it turned out that he was merely clarifying
the gravity of the matter of taking a soul for any purpose
other than its own. We conclude that he is doing a good job.
Yet he must have had a lot of evil on his soul, to encounter
his predecessor, because Thanatos normally goes after only
those souls that are in balance between good and evil."

"True. He was in balance, with as much evil as good.
So was I, when we met; we compared notes. He has been
doing a good job, and surely changing his balance slowly
positive, and I hope my own is similarly changing. Certainly
it is possible for such folk to perform well. But if there were
a better system of selection, we might guarantee that future
Incarnations will be better prepared for their Offices."

It did make sense, though Jolie had little confidence that
a real upgrading of Incarnations would come of it, because
unanimity among the Incarnations was virtually impossible.

"We shall be glad to stay here, if it is really all right
with you," she said, returning to the earlier subject. "But
Orlene does wish to resume her quest, and we have decided
that the three of us will remain together to see that through.
That means that we hope to go physically to see the
remaining Incarnations. So if we have to travel—"

Luna laughed. "You will not have to travel! All the
Incarnations have residences in Purgatory."

"But in mortal form we can't get there," Jolie pointed
out. "As ghosts, Orlene and I can go, and indeed have
already been. But Vita—"

AND ETERNITY         147

"Oh, you need to leave her unchaperoned for a time!
Certainly she may remain here; Muir will watch her and
prevent her from leaving, and the griffins will be happy for
company."

You know, that might not be so bad. Vita thought. But
Jolie could feel her disappointment; she did like the animals
and the house, but she very much wanted to participate in
the larger adventure. Also, she was aware that Roque might
not visit her alone, and feared that if he did, she would
make some romantic blunder that would turn him off. She
wanted to remain with Jolie and Orlene, but was afraid she
couldn't. She was trying to be nice about it. That, for her,
was significant progress; she was learning self-sacrifice,
perhaps inspired by Orlene's example.

"We intend to do it together," Jolie said firmly, and felt
the thrill of Vita's joy. "We two ghosts like the experience
of being alive again, and Vita likes our company. We have
a viable combination, and will keep it as long as all of us
agree."

Luna nodded, unsurprised. "It is possible for mortals to
visit Purgatory; indeed, the Incarnations are mortal in
certain respects, such as their normal solidity. But you will
need the intercession of an Incarnation to get there."

"As it happens, I am on good terms with an Incarnation
or two," Jolie said. "I happen to know that Satan doesn't
use his residence in Purgatory, so it would be available for
a temporary stay. Buli if we were to ask his aid ..."

Again there was a knowing nod. "I would not forbid
you this earthly residence,, in that case. Though it is true that
I oppose Satan, and expect to be instrumental in defeating
his major ploy not far hence, it is also true that we must
have his cooperation for what we intend in the longer run.
In earlier days I believed that the conflict between Good and
Evil was absolute, but with time and experience I have
learned that it is relative. It is as if we are playing an
important game, with each side wanting very much to win
but both sides agreeing that without adherence to certain

^48              Piers Anthony

ground rules, there will be no game to win. Even enemies
need to cooperate in certain respects and to honor each

other's prerogatives."                            .

"Thank you," Jolie said. "We shall remain here,

except when visiting Purgatory. May the game continue.
"May the game continue," Luna agreed, smiling.

7-

TIME

Luna gave them fare for a commercial rocket flight to another
city. While they waited for the taxi carpet to arrive. Vita went
out to give each griffin a farewell hug, then came inside to do
the same for Muir, who put up with this in gentlemanly
fashion though it evidently wasn't his idea of fun. Orlene then
embraced Aunt Luna. In her life she had known none of her
blood ancestry; now it was sustaining her in death.

The carpet arrived, and Jolie took over, because she
knew where they were going. "Rocketport," she an-
nounced, and it sailed up, carrying them away. Jolie looked
back and waved to Luna, feeling sentiment herself. She had
known Luna for many years, and liked her, but this was the
first time in mortal guise, and it had a special impact. The
considerations of food and lodging and physical protection
loomed far more important in the living state. Living was so
physical'. In a few days she had come to a much more acute
appreciation of the woman's qualities. Luna was very like
Gaea, who had been her sister-cousin Orb, but significantly
different too. She seemed older, because she had aged
normally while Gaea hadn't, but that wasn't it. She was in
many respects what Gaea would have been had she re-
mained mortal, and that was a precious insight.

149




150              Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

151

She was also like Orlene in her former life: quite
attractive, and sensitive to the feelings of others. Jolie knew
that she had seen Orlene in her worst stage, that of
emaciation, death, horror and despair. But she remembered
how petite and lovely she had been in her life and
happiness, and how nice. Now those qualities were return-
ing, though she was in a different body; Vita was becoming
pretty in the ways that Orlene had been. Luna showed how
Orlene would be in later life, and that was attractive too.

/ really regret having died, Orlene thought. / acted
hastily and thoughtlessly. Only now that it is too late do I
appreciate what continuing life had to offer.

"Perhaps I should have told you your heritage," Jolie
said. "I tried to avoid interfering in your life, other than
watching you and being your dream-friend, and now I
regret that."

Had I known, I might have acted quite differently,
Orlene agreed. But I cannot blame you for leaving me my
freedom to find my own way.

Vita did not chip in. She was dreaming of Roque.

The carpet arrived at the rocketport. They entered at
ground level and rode the carpeted belts to the interior ticket
counter. Then they took the old-fashioned escalator to the
launching area at the roof.

The rocket was sitting there in its harness. Jets of steam
hissed from nozzles, making it seem like a monstrous hot
dragon. A ramp led up to a tiny mouth in its base.

Vita took an interest. Science is so scary! she com-
mented.

Jolie could not argue. Back in her days of life, science
had been relatively backward, while magic, for some few
practitioners, had been advanced. But she had to admit that
science had its place; it nicely complimented magic as a
way of getting things done. Both had their liabilities, of
course, but that was a concomitant of power.

They rode the ramp up to the mouth and into the maw of
the monster. Inside it was like a small, cramped building,

much higher than wide. A moving ladder hauled them up to
their berth, about midway along the length of the rocket.

A harness awaited them there. Just like the big one! Vita
thought.

"For different reason," Jolie explained. "The big
harness holds the ship vertical and above the building, so
that no actual landing field is necessary and there is room
for the rocket jets to flow. Our small harness is to hold us in
place for the pressures of the takeoff and landing. Springs
allow it to give way, cushioning the worst of the accelera-
tion. This will be a short, violent hop."

That's my kind of trip, the girl agreed.

They got into the harness and clamped it on around
arms, legs and torso. There was a brace for the neck, and a
helmet to hold the head secure.

In due course there was a shrill warning beep. Then the
rocket took off. First they felt the rising power of its jet,
causing the entire vessel to shudder. Then the motion
commenced, slow at first, but rapidly accelerating.

Hooo! Vita thought, feeling their jaw, breasts, and
stomach sag with the abrupt increase in weight.

A vision screen came on, showing a fisheye-lens view
of the outside. They were rising, the building and surround-
ing city of Kilvarough dropping down. In moments they had
a panoramic view of the region.

/ like Mortis better. Vita announced.

Neither Orlene nor Jolie cared to argue with that.

The rocket blast cut off. Their harness bounced up, its
springs recovering their compactness. They were in free-
fall.

Wheee! Vita thought.

But in a moment the rocket spun about, its business end
pointing forward. Then the blast resumed, just as if they
were still rising. But now they were slowing and descend-
ing, as the screen showed. The rocket was efficient, which
meant the ride was short.

"I would have preferred a modem saucer," Jolie said.




152

AND ETERNITY          153

Piers Anthony

"They are as fast, but they use antigravity instead of jet
propulsion, so are a lot easier to ride, I understand. Of
course, as a ghost I never had occasion to ride one."

Maybe on the way back! Vita thought eagerly. She
loved experience of any kind.

The ship backed down to its rocketport and dropped into
its harness. The safe-to-debark gong sounded. They got out
of their harness and waited for a vacant slot on the moving
ladder. Naturally, all the other passengers were trying to
leave at once, so they had to wait some time.

A slot appeared. Jolie grabbed a rung and swung her
feet across. She glanced up and found herself peering up the
skirt of another woman. It was foolish to wear such clothing
to travel!

Then she looked down and spied the man below looking
up her skirt. Ouch!

They should make men wear skirts. Vita thought.

Oriene, silent so far, caught that and went into a mental
giggle. Jolie tried to contain it, but a peep leaked out.
"Maybe we can get Luna to pass a law," she murmured
between suppressed heaves. "But who would want to look
at that?"

That, of course, was the problem: turnabout was not fair
play, because women had little interest in looking at men
the way men looked at women. Life was inherently unfair.

No it isn't. Vita thought. It gives us power, because
we've got what they want.

At the bottom they let go and rode the ramp out and
down. At the roof of the rocketport they transferred to the
express escalator, which took them down at a slant to the
main door. They had no baggage, so beat most of the crowd

out.

The taxi carpets were lined up. Jolie took the first one.
"Mock Hell," she said.

Soon they were there: at the megabuilding devoted to
the follies of damnation. Satan had set it up decades ago as
an exhibit, in an attempt to show mortals that Hell was

really a fun place. This had been successful, and it had
become a major tourist attraction. People of all ages nocked
to sample evils that were not encouraged elsewhere.

Jolie walked through the gambling den, where the
customer always won. Piles of silver and gold coins
abounded. Sure looks like fun! Vita thought.

"Wait till you see the next level!" Jolie replied. She
was, of course, long familiar with this setup; it was an
excellent initial sorting place for potential evil. Satan got
early warning here of forthcoming clients.

The next level was devoted to gluttony: clients were
stuffing themselves with all manner of pastries and confec-
tions and tasty beverages. Ooooo! Vita thought.

Jolie approached one of the chefs. "May I borrow your
glasses a moment?"

"We don't let clients—" he began.

"Pierre, don't you know me?" she asked, extending her
ghost face in front of the host face.

He did a double-take. "Of course. Mistress of Satan!"
he agreed hastily, extending his glasses.

Jolie put them on. They were not prescription lenses,
but magic spectacles, and what they showed was a spectacle
indeed: the reality behind the fostered illusion. The clients
were eating garbage, literally, and drinking reeking sewer
dip. For this privilege they were paying not with money, but
with percentages of their souls. They were committing
themselves to Hell by stages, for pleasures which were no
more genuine than those of sin itself.

Ugh! Vita thought, her gorge rising.

Jolie quickly removed the glasses, as it was she who
would vomit if this went too far. "The wages of sin are
garbage," she said, returning the glasses. "Thank yea,
Pierre; this client is not going to Hell anyway."

"I don't know why Satan keeps company with the likes
of you!" Pierre said, smiling.

"There's an ineradicable bit of good in the worst of
us," she responded. "His bit of good relates to me. But




154 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 155

don't worry; I happen to know that he's having an affair
with an Incarnation."

"But that's even more extreme!" Pieire protested.
"She's bound to be good!"

"But think of how far he can drag her toward evil!"

He nodded, seeing the point. Jolie walked on.

Is Satan really—? Vita asked, her interest quickening.

"He really is," Jolie said. "It's a terrific scandal."

Gee, she thought, awed. Who—?

"Oh, I wouldn't blab her name to just anyone."

You're teasing me!

Jolie laughed. "I am, dear! But see, we're here." For
they had come to the Infernal Elevator, which served as a
convenient conduit between Purgatory, the mortal realm,
and Hell. This was what she had been headed for all along.

She touched the entry panel, again extending her ghostly
identity. The panel recognized it, for she had free access to
all Satan's works, in any form, if she could handle them. It
slid aside and the steamy interior of the Hellevator showed.

She stepped in. "Purgatory," she said.

The panel slid across again. Flames erupted from the
edges of the floor. The elevator moved up in a cloud of
smoke which somehow didn't choke. It was mostly illusion,
to provide the proper flavor for an artifact of the nether
region.

This is more like it! Vita thought enthusiastically. Where
else does this crate go?

"It connects everything except Heaven," Jolie said.
"For some reason, Satan couldn't get God's permission to
put a stop there."

Fancy that, Orlene thought dryly.

"Something you should keep in mind about the super-
natural realms. Vita," Jolie said. "They are not quite like
the mortal one. They are not actually physical, they are two
dimensional, and cannot normally be detected or interacted
with by living mortals. But to those in them, they seem
three or four dimensional, and therefore solid. The folk

there will seem alive, but they are not; all are spirits except
the Incarnations, who are of neither the natural or super-
natural realms. The folk of Purgatory don't need to eat or
sleep, and anything we eat there will not sustain us. Only by
special dispensation can mortals enter any of the supernat-
ural realms."

How come this elevator is taking us there, then?
"It is really a mechanism for translation," Jolie ex-
plained. "The Incarnations don't need translation, but your
body does. We seem to be rising, but we are instead
changing, becoming two dimensional. Such a process
represents a strain on the system, so is seldom authorized.
But because I am close to an Incarnation, I am allowed to do
this, and I am taking your physical body to Purgatory.
While there I will never depart from your body, for that
would leave you there without authority, which would be
extremely awkward. I will turn the body over to Orlene for
the duration, for this is her quest. You may observe and
comment, but you will not be put in charge."

Yeah, I can see why. I won't pester you for anything.
"And Orlene—are you going to be able to handle an
encounter with your lover, in his new role?"
/ have no choice, Orlene replied grimly.
The Hellevator flamed up again and stopped. The panel
slid aside. They were at the fringe of Purgatory, its
seemingly natural landscape opening out before them.

Jolie stepped out. Behind her the device disappeared in
another dramatic gout of flame and smoke, leaving only a
brooding fumarole. Ahead was a path leading windingly
toward a mansion in the distance. "That is Chronos'
residence," Jolie said. "It will take us at least an hour to
reach it, and we won't hurry; in fact we may be best advised
to take a nap before we start."

No, I am ready to tackle this now, Orlene thought.
"You misunderstand. It is not your courage in question,
but the nature of the structure. Time runs backwards within
it. You will thus emerge before you enter. Rather than meet




156              Piers Anthony

yourself and get fouled up, it is better to allow sufficient
time around the edges, before and after, so that you are not
put in difficulty. We can proceed with a series of scheduled
pauses, during which we sleep or at least pay no attention to
what is around us, so that whoever may pass before us
knows what times and places to avoid."

This is crazy! Vita thought.

/ don't care about any of that, Orlene thought. / just
want to get there and explain about the time Thanatos used
on my behalf, and beg for a grain of sand.

"But this man was your lover!"

Her what? Vita asked. Did I miss something juicy when

I wasn't paying attention?

I will apologize to him for leaving him as I did. I see no
reason to delay; it will only erode my nerve.

"As you wish," Jolie said, realizing that one way might
be as good as another, and if not, that the woman simply
had to go her own route. She released the host body to her.

Orlene took over and began walking briskly toward the
castle. Jolie realized, belatedly, that the last time they had
been to Purgatory, on their way to see an Incarnation,
Orlene had become a man and horribly embarrassed herself;

she could be nervous about such experience and want to get

through as quickly as possible.

Because this was Purgatory, the body did not tire.
Orlene, discovering this, picked up her pace, and soon she
was almost running. Thus it was that she reached the castle
in half the time Jolie had estimated. Flushed with nervous-
ness rather than exertion, she lifted the ornate door knocker

and let it fall.

In a moment a butler opened the door. "And who may

I announce to Chronos?" he inquired.

"Just a supplicant for a favor."

"Please wait in the foyer."

She entered and waited, while the butler departed for the
interior. There was a scenic mural on the wall that looked
almost real enough for her to walk into. The furniture was

ANDETERNITT         157

comfortable, and the floor was polished hardwood. You're
right. Vita thought. This seems awfully real and solid!

Don't be deceived; its reality is on a different plane from
that of the living host.

The butler returned. "Chronos will see you now."

She followed the man to the main chamber. Her breath
caught in her throat. There stood Norton, exactly as she had
known him in life!

He turned and looked at her. "May I ask who you are?"

He did not recognize her—because she wore Vita's
body! Her appearance was that of a pretty teenage black
girl. "I will tell you—but first let me plead my case.
Thanatos took me to see how he drew out souls, and he had
to borrow time from you to do it. I hope you will approve
this, for I did learn something significant."

"Thanatos was kind to me before I assumed this
office," Chronos said. "I have no quarrel with his use of
time, and will not question it."

' 'And—And I am told I need from you one grain of sand
from—"

"What?" he asked, astonished and dismayed.

"I—I know it is very valuable, but I really need it. You
see, I lost my baby, and the Incarnation of Night told me
that I could only cure his malady by getting something from
each Incarnation, and—"

"If I knew a way to cure a baby's malady, I would have
cured that of my own baby before he died, and so saved his
mother, whom I loved. Certainly one grain of sand will
not—"

This was getting awkward! She should have told him
her identity at the outset. "I know. It was a terrible mistake,
and I made it worse. I see you still wear Sning."

He glanced at the ring he wore, which was in the form
of a tiny snake curled around the finger. "How could you
know about that?" he asked, surprised. "The only one who
knows is dead. Not only that—"

"Dead," she agreed. "And trying to save her baby."

158 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 159

He was not a stupid or unperceptive man. "Can it be
you, Orlene?" he asked, amazed. "In other form? I
mistook you for a mortal!"

"Oh, Norton," she said, her tears starting. "I did not
mean to deceive you! I just forgot that you would not know
my mortal host, and then I thought I shouldn't try to
influence you by—oh, how I wronged you when I died! I
didn't think of you at all, just the baby, and if it were
possible to undo that evil, believe me I would, but I can't!
I loved you, Norton, and love you still, but was blinded by
my folly! I can't ask your forgiveness, I can only proffer my
apology for what cannot be undone. I shouldn't have come
here!"

He came to her as she spoke and took her in his arms.
"Have you come to stay with me, Orlene, this time?"

She was taken aback. "Stay—here? Oh, Norton, I
cannot! This host is a living girl who must return to the
mortal realm. I am here with her, and with Jolie, who is'—"

"Ah, Jolie, Satan's consort. I have my differences with
Satan, but she is a nice woman."

"Yes. So I'm not here alone, and can't remain."

"But you are a spirit. The mortal girl could return, and
Jolie is already a ghost, and you could remain, assuming
your natural likeness here. If you do not leave this mansion,
the problem of time will not exist, and we can be together
for decades, never aging."

Orlene was wildly tempted. This possibility had never
occurred to her. To be back with Norton, in seeming life
and comfort, indefinitely!

Then she remembered Gaw-Two. "My baby—could he
be here too?"

"No. A person can exist here only during the span of his
natural life. In thirty-seven years I will fade out and have to
pass the Hourglass on to my successor, in mortal terms my
predecessor, for I will then be passing beyond the time of
my birth. Gaw-Two would come up against his limit in
mere days."

"And then have to exist forward," she concluded.
"Oh, Norton, I cannot give him up! I do love you, but I
love him, too, and his need is greater. I must rid him of that
terrible malady of the soul and see him safely on the way to
Heaven before I can rest." She felt terribly guilty saying
this, but it was the truth.

"But if you could save him, and be with me?"

"Then I would be at peace, and nothing else would
matter."

He nodded. "I learned from Sning—the demon ring you
gave me—that you were yourself given up for adoption as
a baby. I can see that it would be very important for you not
to do that to your own baby."

"Yes. I knew I was adopted, but I didn't know my true
parentage until after I died. I think it does affect my attitude.
I always wanted to be the very best mother I could possibly
be, and I still want to, even though my son and I be ghosts.
I want my baby to know me, even after death."

Chronos paused, thinking, then came to a decision.
"Orlene, I can take you to see your adoption, if you wish.
I never went back that far in your life myself, as my concern
was to forget you, not enhance my awareness of you, but
now I think it would be appropriate. You are younger than
I; your adoption will be within my tenure of office. Would
you like to see it?"

Orlene was amazed. "I can go see that? But wouldn't
there be paradox or something?"

"My activities are normally immune from paradox, a
necessary concomitant of the Office. But in this case there
will be an extra precaution: we will not be visible or audible
to the folk of that time, or able to affect them in any way.
We will merely watch."

"Oh, yes, then!" Orlene exclaimed. "I would love to
go back to that scene! Even earlier—I would like to see my
mother give me away. Can we do that?"

Chronos glanced at his ring, which had been hers, and
she knew he was asking Sning and being answered by




160 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 161

yes-no squeezes. "Yes, Sning can direct us there; he was
present throughout. I will follow his guidance and show you
your life from the outset. Take my hand."

She took his hand, feeling strange. They had been
lovers, and now she was dead and he was an immortal of a
sort, but still there was that love between them. What
memories lay in that simple contact of hands!

He lifted his great Hourglass. The fine flowing sand
within it changed color, becoming an intense blue. Then he
tilted it slightly—and the mansion misted out. There was a
flickering, almost too rapid to detect, which she realized
was the cycle of days and nights, going backwards, hun-
dreds of them, thousands of them.

Then they were floating across an unfamiliar landscape.
Chronos questioned Sning, using a "twenty questions"
technique he had evidently refined with practice. "India,"
he announced. "A traveling circus, or something similar."

"A circus in India?" Orlene asked. "I originated
there?"

"So it seems."

Now they came to a caravan of wagons drawn by
dragons. Indeed, it was a traveling show! One wagon held
a mermaid in a tank, and another a giant serpent, and there
were assorted other animals and freaks and performers.

They entered one of the better wagons, which was
closed in like a house. There a man and woman lay
together, evidently lovers.

"War! Nature!" Chronos exclaimed, astonished.

"What?"

"I recognize these two! He is the Incarnation of War,
called Ares or Mars. She is the Incarnation of Nature, called
Gaea, when she assumes her natural likeness."

He's right, of course, Jolie thought. They are your
natural parents, Orlene.

Orlene stared at the two figures, her emotions churning.
These shocks of discovery were coming at her with cruel
suddenness! But in a moment she rallied, showing more

courage and control than Jolie had seen in her before. She
was definitely learning to cope.

"Yes, I learned of this after my death," Orlene said,
omitting the crucial detail of the timing of her learning.
"But this must be before they became Incarnations."

"I think so, for certainly they are not together now."

"Oh, why did they separate and give me away?"
Orlene cried, feeling the pain of it in a way she had not
before.

There was a sound of horses, and a commotion outside.
The to-be Incarnation of War got up to see what it was—and
was met outside by an elaborately garbed officer. "Prince,
we have come for you!" the officer called. "The Prince,
your brother, is dead."

"He was a prince?" Orlene asked, amazed.

Indeed it turned out to be so. Not only that, he stuttered,
avoiding it only by going into a singsong mode of expres-
sion. The officer had come to fetch him back, and would not
be denied, though the Prince even threatened to behead
him. They gave the to-be Incarnation of Nature a bag of
precious gems and told her never to seek the Prince again,
for the Prince would marry a Princess of his father's
choosing.

But before he left, the Prince gave her the ring: Sning.
Then he departed—and she fainted.

They carried her into her wagon, and a snake charmer
tended to her. When she woke, the snake charmer said,
"My dear, you are with child."

"She hadn't known!" Orlene exclaimed. "None of
them knew!"

"None of them knew," Chronos agreed, verifying it
with the ring. "That child was you."

Guided by Sning, they skipped ahead. The woman, then
known as Orb, left the traveling show and went to France,
where she settled and hired the service of a blind, maimed,
yet beautiful Gypsy girl as a maid. The girl was Tinka, and
Orb had known her before; indeed, she had taught Orb the




162 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 163

Gypsy language of Calo, and Orb had helped the girl to find
a husband, so they were fast friends. They sang together,
for Tinka had similar magic, making the music wonderful,
and practiced the wicked Gypsy dance the tanana.

Will you look at that! Vita thought. / thought I'd seen
some sexy dancing, but that is the granddaddy of sex! God,
I wish Roque was here!

Even Jolie herself was impressed. / knew that Satan
helped save the Gypsies; now maybe I know why! I never
saw a more expressively erotic dance!

The two women visited Tinka's father, the old Gypsy
Nicolai, a man of distinction in the town. It seemed that Orb
had done his daughter a favor by teaching her how to use
her power of music and by making her beautiful despite her
truncated fingers and club feet. Nicolai did not forget
favors, and now Orb was treated with respect by the
villagers. No word of her pregnancy escaped; the Gypsies
protected their own from scandal.

Nicolai danced the tanana with his blind daughter, and
the impact of the dance was doubled. He was a master, and
it showed in his every glance and gesture. I'd give anything
to learn that dance! Vita thought. What a man!

Jolie had to agree. There could be an to eroticism, and
the tanana was that art, and Nicolai was the master of the
dance. He looked to be about sixty years old, but it didn't
matter; he was ageless when he danced. He also played the
fiddle, beautifully; Orb brought out her little harp and they
played together, and it was awe-inspiring.

Chronos skipped ahead again, and the baby was born.
Orb was unable to use medication to alleviate the pain,
because she had a protective amulet that fought the medi-
cine, but a Gypsy midwife helped her instead with a Spell
of Analogy. She gave birth and named the baby as a variant
of herself: not Orb, but Orlene.

Soon, advised by the ring. Orb had to leave. Her father
was dying, and she had little time to see him. She left the
baby with Tinka, with instructions to give her for adoption
to a well-to-do tourist family. She removed Sning. "When

you find the right family, put this ring on Orlene's finger."
She also gave the Gypsy girl a great ruby, from the bag the
Prince's people had given her, so that she would never be
poor again. Then she left, tearfully.

Tinka took perfect care of the baby. She was married,
but her husband spent much time away, so she rejoined her
father. Nicolai, evidently remembering Tinka's babyhood,
was good with Orlene; he held her and talked with her and
sang to her and danced with her, holding her aloft while his
feet moved cleverly. The baby loved it; she seldom cried
when Nicolai was near.

"This child has magic," he said. "A rare and good
talent, fit for a Romani soul! She can see and judge auras.''

"He knew!" Chronos exclaimed, astonished. "The
glow you can see—he knew, even then!"

Orlene, grown now, watched, the tears streaming down
her face. "I always liked dance and music," she said.
"Now I know why. I almost remember—that marvelous
man—that wonderful, blind Gypsy girl! Surely I saw them
glowing brightly and was reassured."

Then the ring guided Tinka to intercept a passing tourist
couple. She was blind, but she could get around, especially
with Sning's help. She spoke only Calo, while the tourists
spoke English, but it didn't matter. She showed them the
baby, and they were smitten, and it was done. She put
Sning on the baby's finger, where it fit magically well, and
departed, trying to hide her tears.

"Oh, Tinka, I didn't know!" Orlene said, watching.
"You wanted to keep me and could not!"

Orb returned, as Gaea, and cured her blindness, Jolie
thought. And made it possible for her to bear children.

"I'm glad! My life was good; my adoptive parents
treated me very well, and I was never in want. But this
discovery of the people in my past—how it joys and hurts!"

"I wish I had known this about you," Chronos said.
"You were so much more than I guessed. But I loved you
regardless, and had I known what was to happen—"

"I acted foolishly," she said. "Orb could not keep me,




164 Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

165

so she did what she had to and went on. Tinka could not
keep me, so she, too, did what was right. But I—when I
could not keep my own baby—oh, I failed you, and myself,
and all of those who sacrificed so much to give me my good
life! I am ashamed!"

"Oriene, you may lack the power to undo the past, but
this is a power I now possess. Come with me." He put out
his elbow.

Bewildered, excited, she took his arm. With his free
hand he lifted the great Hourglass that suddenly appeared.
The flowing sand in it turned bright red as he tilted it.

Then they slid through the wall of the room and out of
the village, much the way Mortis moved through substance.
The flickering came again.

They approached a megabuilding Oriene recognized: it
was the one containing Gawain's apartment—the one she
had occupied in life, as the wife of the ghost. It had not been
long in objective time since she had left it, by dying, but it
had been an eternity subjectively.

They came to rest immediately ^outside her door. "We
are in that period when you were gravid," Norton said.
"But before Gawain obtained Gaea's gift. You must
approach your prior self and warn her of the danger. She
will then warn my prior self, who will warn the ghost. That
should do it."

"And the malaise will never come upon Gaw-Two!"
she exclaimed, suddenly seeing it. "He will not sicken and
die, and I will not suicide, and we will be together in life!"

He merely waited.

"Yet I hesitate," she said. "I made such a bad mistake
before, I don't want to make another. I must not be hasty.
If I do this, and Gaw-Two is saved, and we are happy—
what happens to Jolie?"

"Jolie? She merely returns to Satan; she has no problem
here."

True, Jolie thought. / would much prefer to see you
alive and happy, Oriene! It would relieve me of enormous

guilt, and I would not have to tell Gaea how her daughter
was lost.

"And Vita—that's the mortal girl, my host—what of
her?"

"Why she would return to whatever her life was before
you joined her. Probably the two of you would never
interact, since you encountered her after you died."

"But Vita was on the street! A—She was subject to the
sexual appetites of strange men, and getting hooked on a
bad drug. She would most likely have proceeded in a
descending spiral to depravity and death if Jolie and I hadn't
come to pull her out of it!"

"I am afraid that would be the case."

Roque! Vita thought. You mean I wouldn't meetRoque?

"Oh, Norton, I don't think I can do this!" Oriene said.
"I couldn't let that other baby die, when Thanatos took me
there, and I can't do this to Vita, who is my friend. There
has to be some other way!"

"If you live, what you did in death will not occur," he
said. "That cannot be altered. You must live or die, not
both."

But you could leave yourself a message! Jolie thought.
Vita's address, so you could go and. . . But she lost it, the
ramifications and complications becoming an impenetrable
thicket. How could a white stranger with a baby go and
rescue a black prostitute in a stupor from H? How could
Vita be introduced to Judge Scott and go to live with him?
What had been feasible from within hardly seemed so from
without!

"And if I live, then what of you?" Oriene continued.
"Will you go on to become the Incarnation of Time?"

"And there you have it, Oriene: paradox. I cannot do a
thing that changes my own past, in that fashion, for if I did,
I would not obtain the Office and therefore could not do that
thing. In all other matters I am immune from paradox, but
in this one I am not."

"So it is impossible, after all!"




166              Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

167

"It is impossible. But I wanted you to understand in
your own fashion, so you would not think I was being
argumentative or callous. Our relationship is finished,
because you must go forward, even as a ghost, and I must
live backwards as an Incarnation. Now let me judge your
plea on its merits." He lifted the Hourglass again, angling
it as the sand turned pink.

They sailed up through the building, ghostlike, and into
the sky. Chronos needed no magic elevator for his conver-
sions! Soon they were back in his mansion.

"How did you come to assume this Office?" Oriene
asked, partly from curiosity, partly because she wasn't quite
ready to discuss the merits of her case.

"After you died, Gawain felt guilty, and he tried to find
some better setup for me. He remarried and invited me to
impregnate his new wife, but I thought of you and would
not. Later he learned of the coming vacancy of this Office
and persuaded me to assume it. I admit I was moved by the
notion that this might provide me the power to do what we
have seen I could not do: change your past and mine so that
you would survive. I discovered better, but by that time I
was committed. And I admit this is no ill existence. And,
lest you feel guilt for depriving me of love life, I am
accommodated there too."

"You have a lover?" Oriene asked, relieved but not
completely pleased. "Then why did you suggest that I
remain here with you?"

"I would prefer your company. I don't love the other
woman. She merely accommodates a particular need."

Oriene remembered her experience with the urgency of
the need of the male, and could not condemn him. ' 'Who is
she?"

"Another Incarnation. Only Incarnations understand."

"An Incarnation? Which one?"

"Fate."

"But Fate's my grandmother!"

"What?"

He doesn't know your ancestry, Jolie reminded her. He
just learned of your immediate parentage, as you did, and
has not yet made the connection to Lachesis.

"I'm the daughter of Nature and the granddaughter of
Fate," Oriene continued. "That's why they sent Jolie to
watch me. I didn't know while I lived, but now I do."

Disgruntled, he gazed at her. "Which Aspect?" he
asked after a moment.

"Aspect?"

"Fate has three Aspects: Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos,
of ascending generations. I believe each originates with a
different mortal woman. They share the body, but they are
three  distinct personalities.  Which  one  is  your
grandmother—Atropos?''

Lachesis, Jolie prompted.

"Lachesis," Oriene said numbly. She hadn't realized
that Fate was so complicated!

"I indulge with Clotho, the youngest," he said, re-
lieved. "Voluptuous, bouncy, midnight-black hair—of
course, she can change her form, they all can, but I think
that's her rest state."

"What does Lachesis look like?"

"Somewhat like an older edition ofGaea, actually, with
light hair—sometimes she buns it up and makes it brown,
but, well, it's not far from the shade of yours, really."

"That would be my grandmother," Oriene said, relax-
ing. She understood how three separate women could share
a single body, even when one indulged in sexual relations
with a man not of the others' choosing. "It really isn't my
business."

He seemed glad enough to let the subject change.
"Now, how did you come to encounter Nox?"

"She has Gaw-Two. She took him when he came to
Purgatory, and says she will give him to me if I can obtain
the items I need to cure his malaise, which remains with
him in death because it is of the soul, not the body. From
Chronos, one grain of sand, apparently because one soul




168 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 169

cannot be transcribed to another without a hitch in time, or
something—I don't quite understand it, but am sure that it
is so."

"It is so," he agreed. "But you would not be able to
use such a grain that way. Time is a tool that only the
Incarnation of time can wield. What the sand would actually
do is summon me to itself—that is, to its possessor, you—at
need, and I would then manage the hitch in time and take
back the grain. But this, too, has a complication, At what
time do you anticipate this operation?"

Years! Jolie thought, knowing that it well might not be
done at all.

"Years hence, I fear."

"Then likely before my tenure. That would explain why
the sand is necessary, because I cannot go tangibly beyond
my own term of Office. I can go intangibly, and observe
certain aspects of reality, but I cannot affect them. If,
however, you carry such a grain with you to that time, I will
be able to go to it and act in the limited way that relates to
its purpose." He paced the floor, considering. "Since I may
not commit my predecessor—you would think of him as my
successor—to such an action, I think I must give you the
grain of sand. I think I would have agreed to do this were
you not my lover in life, and the baby not mine, so I can
justify it now."

"Thank you, Norton," she said. Again she remembered
her brief, horrible experience as a male. Did he expect her
to ... surely she did owe him that, considering. "Do you
wish—"

"Here is the grain," he said abruptly, cutting her off.
He touched the Hourglass and the grain appeared on his
finger. "Do not lose it. I regret that I have other business
now and must ask you to leave."

She took the grain, holding it tightly between thumb and
forefinger. It tingled. "I ... thank you, Norton."

"Welcome." He ushered her out.

Moments later she stood at the front door, alone,

bemused by the suddenness of the conclusion. There is a
generous man, Jolie thought.

Yeah, he was really hot for you, but he wouldn't let on,
Vita agreed. He just hustled you out before he could give in
to it.

"But I would have—if he had let me ask—I owed him
so much—"

He didn't want you to buy that grain of sand, or pay for
it, Jolie thought. He wanted to give it to you. He did.

"After what I did to him!" she said. "I had no business
dying like that! I should have stayed with him and had
another baby, but I just—" She choked herself off.

Let's get out of here before we meet you coming in, Jolie
thought. She was impressed by Chronos' behavior, but now
was not the time to dawdle.

"You do it," Oriene said. "I'm hurting again."

Indeed she was. Jolie resumed control of the body and
walked briskly away from the mansion in the direction
opposite to the one from which they had approached.

"Tomorrow we can tackle Fate," she said. "But today
we had better get established in Satan's residence, so that
we have a suitable base for operations."

It was a fair walk, and in this mortal body she was
unable to turn a page in the fashion of Gaea to reach her
destination instantly, or to fly ghost fashion, so it was
afternoon by the time they reached it. Actually, Purgatory
did not have days or seasons; time was meaningless here.
But they were on Vita's living internal clock, and didn't
fight it, thinking of time as they did in the mortal realm.

Satan's domicile, as perceived through their mortal
eyes, was impressive, even awesome.

From outside it resembled the most forbidding of
castles, with huge stone blocks forming a wall rising to an
alarming height, enclosing a cylindrical central turret ex-
tending even higher. From the apex extended a pole which
branched into a three-tined fork, from which flew a flag




170 Piers Anthony

with the shape and color of a flame. Outside was a moat on
whose surface fire danced, forming fleeting figures of
demons who alternately beckoned and made obscene ges-
tures.

Horrible! Orlene thought, though not really shocked.

Great! Vita thought, delighting in naughtiness.

"Isn't it a marvel?" Jolie inquired, pleased. "For
centuries Satan's Purgatory residence was unmaintained,
and Lucifer's before that, because he had no interest in this
region and no undamned souls had interest in contacting
him. But when I returned to animation as Gaea's compan-
ion, I did not deny my connection to Satan. I couldn't go to
Hell on my own, only in her company, because I am not
damned, but I wanted to maintain some liaison. So with the
permission of the Incarnations of Nature and of Evil, I made
a project of renovating the Purgatory Presence in my off
moments. I made it a point to include all the classical
symbols of the Office. When Satan saw it, he laughed so
hard he sank through the ground and disappeared."

They walked the path to the moat. Now the flame
figures became quite clear, putting on a show for the visitor.
Male flames pursued female flames, caught them, and
indulged in vigorous acts of fornication.

Appalling!

I wish Roque were here!

The main entry resembled the mouth of a dragon,
gaping wide, as if in expectation of excellent prey. Small
flames flickered within its dark maw. "Fresh meat!" Jolie
called.

The dragon's mouth opened wider. Smoke billowed
out. Then a huge red tongue rolled down to extend across
the moat, its tip landing at the brink of the path. The flame
figures retreated in alarm, except for one couple still
engaged in amour. "Drawbridge," Jolie explained. "I gave
it the password."

They crossed the drawbridge and approached the giant,
ugly portcullis. It resembled enormous teeth projecting

AND ETERNITY         171

down, syrupy saliva dripping from their polished tips. As
they passed under it, the teeth started down—and stopped,
well above head height, after giving Orlene and Vita a
scare. "Just a little extra fun," Jolie explained. "The
mouth can't close without reprogramming, but it can give
entrants a bit of a jolt."

Inside, two little demons appeared. One was male,
wearing little trousers with a hole in back for his tail to
emerge, the other female, with a skirt and a flamelike bow
in her hair. "These are Dee and Dee," Jolie said. "Our
poster models, for the lascivious recruitment campaign.
They're not really demons, merely borderline damned souls
who elected to work here. They were experienced; they'd
been in Gaming before they died."

Oh, I've seen them! Vita thought. / remember the bill-
board with him peeking under the skirt of a luscious woman,
and the legend "You Won't Find THAT in Heaven!"

"Yes, that has been one of our most popular numbers,
dating from before my restored time," Jolie agreed. "And
quite true too; God doesn't believe in fornication, once a
soul has been Saved, so those who are interested in that sort
of thing have to see to it as mortals, or in Hell."

I'm not sure I want to go to Heaven, Vita thought. /
mean, bad sex is awful, sure enough, but good sex is great,
with the right man. I know Roque's going to Heaven, and if
I can't join him there and give him ah even better time than
as a mortal, what's the point?

"That's not for the Bride of Satan to say," Jolie said,
smiling.

They followed Dee and Dee through the castle, getting
the introductory tour. There was a central court with a
garden of bloodsucking flowers and a pit of fire, with erotic
statuary strategically placed. There was an excellent kitchen
in which all manner of delicious foods were being prepared.
There was a chamber for the storage of wealth, with gold
and silver coins piled high, and buckets of gems: faceted
diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires of many colors




272              Piers Anthony

nested in beds of garnets. Pearl necklaces hung on racks,
and iridescent opals sat on shelves. "Symbolic of the vices
of man," Jolie said. "Gluttony, and greed for money."

But like the stuff in Mock Hell! Vita thought.

"No, actually these jewels are real. But their threat to
man's virtue is the same. Wealth is perhaps Satan's most
potent tool for the evocation of the evil that lies in mortals.
But they cannot take it with them to the Afterlife, while the
evil on their souls does indeed go with them. That is the
disastrous nature of the choice they make."

You mean the food here isn't garbage?

"It isn't garbage—but it won't sustain your body,
either. However, your body can exist for an indefinite time
here in Purgatory, in much the way the souls here do; we

don't need to eat."

/ don't get it. What happens if we do eat here?
' "The danger, if we were going back and forth between
Purgatory and the mortal realm, and only ate here, would be
in thinking that it was pointless to eat there when all this
excellent free food is available here. The body might feel
satisfied, but it would be illusion; it would be running out of
sustenance while in the mortal realm. So it is better to
eschew the food here and eat only when in the mortal realm;

that way natural hunger is a good guide."
Too bad. Vita thought sadly.

They settled in the family room. "You should find
Purgatory video interesting," Jolie remarked as the screen
came on. "But it can be disquieting too."

A neutral announcer appeared. "Two ghosts and a
mortal woman have taken up temporary residence in Hell's
Acres," he said. "One ghost is Jolie, the former wife of the
man who later assumed the Office of the Incarnation of Evil;

she is unable to visit him in Hell, though it is rumored that
she has found a way to get around that restriction. The other
is Oriene, who committed the sin of suicide after losing her
baby. Her history is becoming more interesting. She seems
to be seeking out each Incarnation in turn, beginning with

AND ETERNITY         173

the nebulous Nox, who may have played an unkind prank
on her."

What is this? Oriene demanded.

"The Purgatory News Service is always current and
personal," Jolie explained. "It relates to whoever is watch-
ing it. So when Thanatos relaxes, he gets news of his
doings, and when Gaea watches, she receives news others.
I have never quite understood its mode of operation, but its
targeting is always perfect."

But it didn't mention me. Vita fussed.
"As for the mortal, she is Vita," the announcer said
immediately. "She is the fifteen-year-old daughter of Vera,
a leading researcher for Luna, the central figure in the
approaching confrontation between Good and Evil. Raped
by her father, she fled home and was driven to prostitution.
Her mother was too upset by her unexplained absence to
concentrate, so Luna arranged to have the visiting ghosts
animate Vita's body and extricate her from a developing
drug habit and life of sin. This was only partially successful;

she instead became the mistress of a leading local judge,
encouraging him to walk in the path of the unrighteous."
That's a lie! Vita thought, furious. Roque's a good man!
"The threat of scandal caused the judge to expel her
from his residence," the announcer continued, unper-
turbed. "But her hold on him was too great, and the affair
continued. It is difficult to tell at this stage how much harm
will be done to the judge's reputation, let alone the balance
of evil on his soul."

Damn! Damn! Vita thought, rage and pain mixing. /
wouldn't hurt Roque for anything! They make it seem
so—so sordid!

"Of course, the encouragement of such behavior might
have been expected from the Bride of Satan,'' the announcer
said smugly. "But it is a mystery why Oriene, a relatively
chaste woman at the time of her death, should—"

Turn it off! Oriene thought.

"You mustn't take it too seriously," Jolie said as the




174

Piers Anthony

r

AND ETEKNUT

175

screen went blank. "It speaks from a very moralistic view,
because Purgatory is the place of moralism, where border-
line souls are sorted for destination. Some of us disagree
with this attitude, but it is best to be aware of it."

You're right, Orlene thought after a moment. We should

hear it through.

Yeah, Vita thought. We shouldn't let it get to us. It's just

twisting things.

Jolie turned the screen on again. "... support such
mischief," the announcer continued, picking up precisely
where cut off. "Now the three of them have taken the
extremely unusual step of coming physically to Purgatory
and staying at Hell's Acres. It will be interesting to see what
activity they indulge in on the morrow."

Yeah? Well, you'll just have to wait, gossip monger!

Vita thought fiercely.

"But we can tune it in to anyone we wish," Jolie said.

"Ozymandias, for instance."

The dour face of the erstwhile King of Kings appeared.
"A greeting, Jolie," he said, recognizing her despite her
current host. "Satan is out at the moment. May I take a

message?"

"We are borrowing Hell's Acres while interviewing

Incarnations," Jolie said. "Our next interview will be with
Fate, and it could be awkward, because one of her Aspects
is Orlene's grandmother. Is there anyone there who could

give us good advice?"

He frowned. "This really is not the locale for good
advice. However, evil advice is available. Here is the

Magician."

A new face appeared on the screen: that of an aging,

worn man, the set of whose jaw suggested a determination
that mere death had not eclipsed. "Hello, Jolie; do you

know me?"

"You're Luna's father!" Jolie exclaimed. "You spent a
lifetime opposing Satan, only to finish in Hell! What an
irony!"

"I did what I had to do," the Magician said. "Black
magic is less limited than white magic, and the task was
great, so I knowingly garnered evil on my soul in order to
serve the greater good. I succeeded in guaranteeing the
continued life of my daughter, so that she will be able to
balk Satan's final ploy of this sequence, and I am satisfied
to pay the price."

"But all that you did was for the cause of Good! To
have you confined to Hell for that—"

"The end does not justify the means. I used unautho-
rized means. I do not protest my fate."

"I think I'd better put Orlene on," Jolie said. "She was
left as a baby, to be adopted by others, and only after her
death did she leam of her natural ancestry." She turned the
body over to Orlene.

"So you were left as a baby," he remarked, interested.
"So was I. It must run in the family."

"Magician, if you are Luna's father, what are you to
me?" Orlene asked, flustered.

"I am in a manner your uncle," he replied. "And Luna
is in a manner your cousin, despite the differential in your
ages. You see, your mother Orb and I had the same mother
Niobe, who is now Lachesis, the central Aspect of Fate.
Orb and Luna thought of each other as sisters or cousins,
but they were of different generations. Orb's parents were
Luna's grandparents: Niobe and Pacian. Certainly we are
close kin."

"Uncle," Orlene said, fastening on that. "Then you
will give me apt advice, though you are damned?"

"I will. What is it you intend to ask of Fate?"

"I need a thread of life, so that my baby's Afterlife can
be changed and he will no longer have his malaise."

"You ask for a lot!" the Magician said. "She may be
your grandmother, but she will not give you that without
excellent reason. You will have to persuade her that it is
somehow in me interest of the larger framework to do it."

"But it is only in my personal interest!"




176               Piers Anthony

He frowned, thinking. "You ask for this, for your
baby? I think she will understand that, having had to leave
her own baby and then having seen her daughter leave her
baby. You represent the third generation in the family with
problems with babies. Perhaps she will be moved." But he
did not look confident.

"Thank you. Magician," Orlene said.

"I am glad to have seen you, Orlene, however late."

He clicked off.

The announcer reappeared. "There is an interesting

development in the case of Orlene, who it seems is
unashamed to contact Hell itself to—"

The screen went blank as Jolie took over the body.
"Why don't we retire now? We don't need to sleep here,
but we can if we choose, and I think it would help. We may
have a big day tomorrow."

The other two agreed.

FATE

They did sleep, unnecessary as it might be here, and were
refreshed in the morning, pointless as that designation
might be, here. Then they set out on foot for Fate's Abode.

Jolie was familiar with it, of course, but it was new to
the others. It was in the form of a huge spider web, with the
residence fashioned like a cocoon of webbing.

"Fate is a triple entity," Jolie reminded them. "I
believe that Lachesis would not try to interfere with any
person's thread of life for purely personal reasons, and
probably neither told the other Aspects which thread yours
was nor paid any special attention to it herself. So the
chances are that she won't recognize either Orlene or Vita.''

So do we make our identities clear at the outset, or
wait? Orlene asked.

"I'd better identify myself first, and explain why I'm in
a living host," Jolie said. "Then I'll introduce the two of
you and turn the body over to Orlene."

They approached the structure, treading carefully on the
huge web. Vita had nervous thoughts about big spiders, but
Jolie reassured her: any spiders here were sure to be
manifestations of Fate.

177







178 Piers Anthony

Jolie knocked on the web door. The surface yielded and
sprang back as her knuckle touched it, but there was a
sound, and in a moment the door was opened from inside.

A voluptuous black-haired girl stood there, her lustrous
hair literally sparkling. "Oh, you're not an Incarnation!"
she exclaimed, surprised.

"No, I'm Jolie," Jolie said. "In a mortal host. Hello,
Clotho! Do you have time to—"

"Oh, Jolie! I didn't recognize you, but now I do! No,
actually this isn't a good time; we have an emergency and
are just about to go to the mortal realm."

Jolie hadn't anticipated this. Of course, she couldn't
interfere with the business of an Incarnation. Yet it was in
her mind, and the minds of her companions, that after this
interview they should return to the mortal realm, to eat and
to assimilate what they had learned. It would be awkward to
come here a second time. "Maybe if I state my business
quickly?"

The woman blinked into middle age. "Jolie, we really
are too pressed for courtesy at the moment. I am sorry."

"I bring your granddaughter, Lachesis."

The Incarnation did a double-take. "Oh, my! Very
well, come inside while we prepare. We can talk while I
orient on the appropriate threads."

Jolie entered. The Abode inside was fashioned of web
also, with floor, walls, ceiling and even furniture all of the
grayish material. She turned the body over to Oriene.

"Hello, I am Oriene," Oriene said awkwardly. "I lost
my baby, and died, and now—"

Lachesis spun on her. "You what?"

"You didn't know?" Oriene asked, taken aback. "I
assumed I was only reminding you."

"My dear, I know nothing of your activities. This is
deliberate, so that I will not play favorites with mortal
threads. I did know that Jolie was keeping track of you, and
though she associates with Satan, she also associates with
your mother, who likewise does not follow your activities.
We have been satisfied that Jolie would notify us if

AND ETERNITY

179

something important came up in your case, and I assumed
that this visit represented such a notification. But—you
diedr'

"Yes. When my baby died, I—I committed suicide. I
realize I shouldn't have, but—"

Lachesis plumped into a chair, appalled. "I hoped I had
misheard or misunderstood. Where was Jolie while this was
going on?"

' 'She was observing a candidate for a future Incarnation,
and I was doing well—there was no indication, because it
happened fairly quickly, and—"

"So now she brought you here, in an effort to make up
for the oversight that allowed you to die?"

"I don't blame her!" Oriene exclaimed. "I was respon-
sible for what I did. Now she is helping me seek my baby,
and I thank her for that."

Lachesis paused, as if listening to an inner voice. Then
she stood. "I can see this is going to be complicated, but we
really are busy, and can't take the time to investigate your
thread. We shall simply have to take you along with us and
discuss your situation as we go." She made a curious
motion with her hand, and a length of thread flung out,
lassoing Oriene. "This will keep you close; don't be
concerned if strange things happen."

"Oh, I have already seen some pretty strange—"
Oriene started. But she broke off as Lachesis became a huge
spider.

The spider jumped through the wall of the Abode—and
Oriene followed, drawn by the thread. There was no jerk or
vertigo, just an abrupt change of setting, as they passed
through the wall without resistance and hovered over a giant
tapestry in another chamber. The tapestry was fashioned of
many thousands of brightly colored threads, and each of
these followed its own course without regard to the pattern-
ing of the tapestry as a whole. Yet, overall, it was a

marvelously unified construction, and beautiful in its variety
and depth.

"This is the Tapestry of Life," Lachesis explained.

180 Piers Anthony

"We are about to search out several particular threads, each
of which represents the life of one mortal person." They
floated down—and instead of landing on the Tapestry, they
approached it as if from an enormous distance, and it
seemed to grow larger with changing perspective.

Awed by this vision, Orlene for the moment forgot her
own quest. "If I may inquire—what is the emergency you
are in? I thought Fate controlled the destiny of all things, so
would be the last to suffer a problem."

"True and false. We handle the lives of mortals, but we
operate within a framework of rules that greatly limits our
leeway. We must also be careful of the interactions within
the Tapestry; if, for example, we carelessly remove one
thread, that may affect others, which in turn affect others, in
the end damaging the larger pattern and requiring spot
correction. We also may be subject to the interference of
Satan. We also on occasion do make errors—of which you
may be an example. But this particular emergency relates to
none of these. Atropos is retiring."

"Your—One of your three components?" Orlene
asked, surprised.

"Our eldest Aspect, yes. She who cuts the threads of
life." Lachesis was abruptly replaced by Atropos, a large
grandmotherly black woman. "As Fate, we don't play
favorites," Atropos said. "But we do watch. Lachesis
refused to watch you, but I see it differently, and I watched
my friends. Suddenly one is in trouble, because of a distant
thread I had to cut, and I feel responsible. I can't ethically
help her as Fate, but I can step down and then help her all
I want as a mortal, and that's what I have to do. So there has
to be a replacement for me. This business came up so
quickly, I hadn't lined up a successor—but if I don't step
down before today is out, it will be too late for my friend.
So we're in a real hurry."

Orlene was coming to appreciate the fact that not even
the powerful Incarnations had easy existences. Their re-
sponsibilities expanded with their powers, and the complex-
ities of their Offices could lead to hectic moments.

AND ETERNITY         181

The Tapestry of Life was looming closer. Now the
individual strands looked like cables, stretching from hori-
zon to horizon (though there wasn't any horizon here),
sometimes brushing by others, sometimes spanning regions
alone. The network had looked flat from a distance, but now
was clearly three dimensional, with many layers of threads,
and the weave was increasingly intricate.

"Jolie might have a candidate," Orlene suggested.
"She has been observing prospects for Incarnations."

"Any smart grandmothers who want to leave the mortal
realm?" Atropos asked.

No, Jolie thought. Mine are all younger.

"No," Orlene echoed.

"Well, we do have a couple of prospects," Atropos
said. "There's a woman who has had an immense amount
of life experience and we think could do an excellent job, if
she wants to. We're going to ask her now."

They had reached the Tapestry of Life and were flying
between the huge cables. They oriented on one that ex-
tended a long way back. It had been twined closely with
several others, but those had terminated, and now it
continued in isolation.

They flew right up to it—but as they came within
touching range it changed, and became a woman, in a dusky
room, sitting alone, crocheting.

Atropos came to stand before her. "May 1 talk to you,
Mrs. Forester?" she inquired politely.

"Why not?" the woman replied. "I can't see you well,
but I can hear you. You're supernatural, aren't you?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Because you never came in the door. I never heard it
open, or the floors creak. You coming to take me out of
Mortality?"

"Maybe. Mrs. Forester, I am an Aspect of Fate. I cut
the threads of life. I need to step down, and I would like you
to take my place. I have observed you, and believe you are
qualified to handle this Office."

"You are the one who ends lives?"

182              Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

183

"Who sets their limits, yes. It is, of course, not a casual
decision; I spend as much time as I need to determine the
appropriate point for each."

"I can't see well enough to read, which is why I'm not
looking at a book now or watching a holo. How do you
think I could see a life well enough to judge when it should
be stopped?"

"You will assume a new body," Atropos said. "Then
you will be able to see perfectly. You will also be in perfect
health and invulnerable to physical injury. You will be
immortal, as long as you want to be. But you will be one of
three, never alone, never completely in charge."

Mrs. Forester sat for a while and thought about it.
Finally she looked up. "I don't want it."

"Do you know that you do not have long to live, as you
are? This would effectively extend your thread of life
indefinitely."

"I know it. But it's my turn to go, and I'm ready for it.
You have cut the lives of my husband and my children and
my friends, so that now I am alone. All of them should have
had more time to live. Maybe you had reason—but I know
I don't want to do that to anyone else. I'd rather just finish
my term and rejoin my folks in Heaven. I will not serve as
judge on any other person's life."

Atropos nodded. "Mrs. Forester, I thought you would
feel that way. I am stepping down because I am needed in
the mortal realm, and will not interfere with the lives of
those who don't deserve it, for my own personal reasons. I
will not live long after I step down, but I will do what has
to be done. I came to offer you this position because I knew
you were competent and not power hungry. But it is true
that Fate makes decisions on the lives and deaths of mortals,
and you can not avoid these decisions if you assume the
Office. I thank you for your time, and I respect your
decision."

Mrs. Forester picked up her crocheting. "Come and see
me, when your business is done and you are mortal."

"I will try to." Atropos faded out.

Away from the thread, Atropos vented her spleen.
"Damn it! Some of these white women have too much
pride! It's hard to get the best, because they aren't moved
by the idea of power or immortality.''

They were moving through the cables, toward another
prospect. Lachesis remanifested. "Why did you come to
me now, Orlene?"

"When I met Thanatos, I prevailed on him to spare the
life of a newbom baby. We took it to a hospital instead.
Thanatos said you would have to adjust its thread. I—"

"I have already remeasured it," Lachesis said. "Tha-
natos has compassion, and I would not second-guess it. I
handled that the moment it occurred, without investigating
the case, because I knew he would have reason."

"Thank you," Orlene said, relieved. "The other
thing—I went to Nox to recover my own baby, but she said
I had to have an item from each Incarnation. From you, a
new thread, to—"

Lachesis was replaced by Clotho, the lovely, youngest
Aspect. "That is my department; I spin the threads of life.
But this is no minor thing you ask! For one thing, what is
the point, if your baby is already dead?"

"My baby died because he had come upon an incurable
malaise of the soul. That malaise continues after his death
and will prevent him from ever being a truly good spirit. I
toust free him from that."

Clotho looked at her. "I sympathize with your need, but
each thread I spin represents a potential life. I cannot
sacrifice any one of them without excellent reason. I know
you are the granddaughter of Niobe—I mean, Lachesis—
but we cannot do favors merely because of such a relation-
ship."

"If there is any way I can earn it," Orlene said. "Any
thing I can do—"

"We really do not stand in need of anything a mortal
might offer, and even less of anything a ghost could do.




Piers Anthony

184

Certainly we can consider the matter, and if anything

occurs—" She shrugged.

Orlene felt the weight of defeat. She knew she had
nothing to offer but her plea. Clotho was treating her fairly;

she could not claim otherwise.

They reached the next thread. This one was amidst
several others; it was evident that no close associates of this

person had died recently.

They approached—and were in the presence of an old
woman on a convoluted carpet. "Miss Ember," Atropos

said, reappearing.

The woman jumped! "Oh, I didn't see you coming!

What can I do for you? I have some nice knickknacks for

sale—"

"I am Atropos, an Aspect of Fate. I have watched you,

and know that you are a good woman. I want you to take my

Office and cut the threads of life."

"Is this a joke? I may be old and crippled, but my mind
is sound. What are you trying to pull?"

"I can prove my identity, if you wish. This is not a

joke."

"Very well: prove it."

Atropos flung a line of web. It settled around the
woman. Then Atropos flung another line, up through the
roof of the house. She became a giant spider. She hooked
onto the line that secured Mazie Ember's carpet with one
leg, and used the others to climb the other line.

The climb was rapid. In a moment they were passing
through the roof and rising up into the sky. Atropos/spider
hauled the cargo up to a local cloud. Then, perched on the
top of the cloud, Atropos resumed her human form. "This
is part of the power of an Incarnation. Do you wish to see

more?"

Mazie was evidently shaken, but not convinced.

"Yes."

Lachesis reappeared. "I am the central Aspect of Fate,

Lachesis. I measure the threads of life." Then Clotho;

AND ETERNITY

185

"And I spin them. The three of us share this body, and you
would share it, too, being immortal until you chose to
leave."

Mazie was becoming persuaded. "I never thought that I
would ever be offered such a job! But I can't move my
limbs at all; that's why I use a medical carpet. I would be
useless."

"No," Clotho said. "You would join our body, leaving
yours behind. Atropos would assume your body, and it
would assume her likeness and mortal capabilities, and she
would use your carpet to fly away to her pressing business
among the mortals. You would regain full use of your
limbs."

"Oh, my!" Mazie exclaimed, astonished. "What a
dream!"

"But you would have to share time with the other two,"
Clotho said. "Lachesis and I would be your constant
companions. Our duties are pressing; it is no holiday we
offer you. Merely a new mode of existence."

Mazie shrugged. "No."

Atropos reappeared. "You do not wish to take the
Office?"

"Oh, I would love the Office! But not the responsibility.
I could not ever trust myself to decide when a life should
end. I am sure I would make mistakes, and that is too
important to allow mistakes. So I know I must not do it."

"We all have had to leam our Offices," Atropos said.
"We all have made mistakes. But we keep striving to do
better."

"But I don't trust my own judgment," Mazie said. "I
have always been dependent on the decisions of others. To
be suddenly free of pain, of paralysis, and to be making
decisions for others—no, I know I would make a mess of it.
So I thank you for the offer, and I make the one decision
whose correctness I can be sure of: not to take what you
offer."

Atropos gazed at her, then faded out. The carpet slid

186               PiersAwthony

back down the line, into the house, and resumed its former

position, no harm done,

"We can't force a person to take the Office," Atropos

said. "But it leaves us up the crick. I don't have any more

good prospects."

Clotho reappeared. "Are you sure you have to go,

Atropos? You know we'd rather have you stay with us."

"I have to go," Atropos said, manifesting again.
"What I have to do, no other can do for me. I guess we'll
just have to shop for any woman who'll take the job, even
if she isn't the best. I hate this, but that's the way it is."

Lachesis manifested. "It is your prerogative to end your
tenure when you choose. We must support you in this, just
as we supported Clotho's predecessor when she decided to
marry the Japanese martial artist. It will work out somehow;

it always has. It is not as if your successor will be alone or
unguided." But she did not look happy.

"If I may ask—" Orlene said hesitantly.

Lachesis glanced at her. "Oh, Orlene—I forgot you
were with us! Of course we shall return you to the Abode!"

"No, I mean, I have a question about your change of

Aspect. Does it have to be a woman?"

Lachesis paused. "Why no, of course not," she said.
"No Incarnation is fixed by sex. But during both my

tenures—no, it doesn't have to be a woman."

"I think I know a man who might be good, and who
might accept it," Orlene said. "If you were willing to

consider him—"

Jolie and Vita, hitherto satisfied to leave it to Orlene,

came alive together. You don't mean— Jolie started. Ro-
que? Vita concluded, with horrendously mixed emotions.
"Who is this man?" Lachesis asked sharply.

"His name is Nicolai," Orlene said. Jolie and Vita
relaxed, amazed. Orlene, pretty much lost at her death and
after the encounter with Nox, was now really taking hold!
"He's an old Gypsy widower, whose only daughter is mar-
ried and gone. I don't know if he is still alive, actually,

but—"

AND ETERNITY          187

Lachesis spread her hands. Between them a webbing
appeared: a section of the Tapestry of Life. She peered
closely into it. "He is alive." She put her hands together
and the webbing vanished, except for a single strand.

Then they were moving rapidly along that strand. All
else blurred past.

They came to rest in a village in southern France. The
old Gypsy man's refuse hovel remained almost
unchanged—and so did he. He had been about sixty years
old; now he was eighty, and slower, but still doing for
himself in the Gypsy way.

Atropos appeared to him. "Nicolai," she said.

The old man's gaze swung to fasten on her.' 'I hear you,
Mistress of threads! What do you want with me?"

"How are you at judging folk?"

"Excellent!" he said. "I can tell almost at a glance how
much money a man is worth and how much he will yield for
a trinket."

Atropos smiled. "All Gypsies can. But suppose you had
to make decisions on their lives?"

"A man does what he has to. But we do not like to kill.
That is seldom necessary."

"I will be direct. I am Fate. I have three Aspects, one
of which I must replace before the day is out. We are
considering you to replace that Aspect, but we are uncertain
whether we want a male, and whether you should be that
male. If you are interested, you must persuade all three of
us, and we may not be kind in the investigation. We can not
give you time to consider; our deadline is hard upon us, and
if you do not wish to be considered, we must go elsewhere
immediately."

Nicolai hardly blinked. "The Romani are quick to
assess any situation. Answer me three questions, and I will
answer yours."

"Ask."

"Which Aspect?"

Atropos touched her ample bosom. "Me—Atropos. I
cut the threads of life."

188            Piers Anthony                                    AND ETERNITY

189

"Will I have complete discretion about which threads to

cut?"

"No. You must always consider the benefit of the entire
Tapestry of Life, and the interests of the other Aspects and
the other Incarnations. The cutting is never random or
careless. But within those guidelines, you do have discre-
tion. No one else will second-guess you."

"Will there be occasion for music or dancing or
storytelling?"

"If you wish."

"Then I am interested."

Atropos gazed at him. "You didn't ask about magic or
immortality or power."

"I didn't need to. I know what Incarnations are. I know
the power they wield. I know they are immortal as long as
they want to be. I know they can choose their forms and that
at least one aspect of Fate is always young and lovely."

"That won't do you any good," Atropos warned.
"Only one Aspect can assume form at a time, the other two
becoming mere thoughts. You will never be able to touch
Clotho."

"But what joy to be near her!"

"Then let her be the first to question you," Atropos said
grimly.

Clotho appeared, deceptively young and bouncy. "So
you like to dance," she said. "How can you reconcile that
with the serious business of cutting threads?"

"What is life worth without merriment? Serious matters
constantly beset every mortal person. We can seek reprieve
only in the innocent pleasures of life, such as music and
dance and the appreciation of luscious flesh like yours."

Clotho was not much moved. "If you faced death
tomorrow, would you dance today?"

"Yes! I face death every momentofmy life, especially
now that my years are almost done, so every moment I
make the most of it. There can be no better death than with
a fiddle in my hands and a song in my throat and beauty in
my eye."

She remained skeptical. "Let me see you dance, then."
"Give me a partner."

Clotho hesitated, obviously not wanting to be diverted
by getting into it herself.

/'// do it! Vita thought. / think his dancing is terrific!
"Do it, then." Oriene turned the body over to her.
"I'll dance with you!" Vita cried. "But I don't know
the tananaV

"Then learn it," Nicolai said, assuming a formal
position. He seemed unsurprised by her appearance from
nowhere. "Stand opposite me, look me in the eye. Now
respond as I move, so." He demonstrated—and as he
moved, he seemed to lose forty years.

Vita followed his directions, haltingly at first, then with
greater confidence. Soon she was doing a bit of the tanana,
and becoming extraordinarily sexy in the process. The
dance left barely enough to the imagination to differentiate
it from abandoned lovemaking, yet that caused the imagi-
nation to run rampant. Her hips flung out, and around, and
forward in unmistakable emulation of vigorous copulation.
Her breasts stood up and shook independently. But it was
the movements of the head that had the greatest effect,
particularly the eyes. She shot dark glances sidelong at her
partner, those looks barely passing her tousled hair, and
Nicolai met them with such burgeoning implication that
even in the midst of her own effort she blushed. Jolie knew
that the Gypsies were supposed to be lusty folk; now she
knew that it was no exaggeration. They made sex appeal
into an art, and it was truly shameless: they had no shame
in it. Jolie felt Vita's increasing delight in the forms of it;

this was almost as good as making it with Roque!

Meanwhile Clotho watched, her cynicism slowly be-
coming interest, and her interest excitement. Her body
mirrored in diminished scope the motions Vita was making.
Finally she could stand it no longer; she stepped forward,
joining the dance.

Clotho was good at it; obviously she had had experience
dancing. She quickly picked up the motions Vita had strug-




190 Piers Anthony

gled over, and her voluptuous body gave her a head start.
Oriene, watching, had a thought: She is Norton's lover?

You died, Jolie reminded her. He still prefers you, but
you can not join him.

I have no business being jealous, she agreed. All the
same . . .

Nicolai adapted without a hitch. Now he danced oppo-
site two young women, and courted them both, and made
both feel helplessly wanton. He could have stripped the
clothes off each and done whatever he wanted with them,
and neither would have objected; rather, they would have
joined in with enthusiasm. They were captive of the tanana,
and reveling in it. They had lost the social limitations they
had come with, for the abandon of the dance.

Nicolai brought it to a halt. With the termination of his
motion, his age returned. "That is the way I want to die,"
he repeated. "With lovely, panting maidens surrounding
me. I have no fear of death when I have the dance. It is even
better to the music, and with costume."

Clothe and Vita looked at each other. Indeed, they were
panting, more from excitement than from the exertion of the
exercise. "I must leam that dance!" Clotho said. "Eighty
years old, and he can do that to me—I must leam it!"

Then she was replaced by Lachesis. "You have one
vote, Nicolai," she said. "But I am not frozen at twenty; I
have more on my mind than physical expression."

Nicolai squinted at her. "Orb!" he exclaimed. "You
are her mother!"

"Now how would you know that?" Lachesis asked,
startled.

"I am of the Romani. I see the family favor. Orb, she
was beautiful, and she had a talent with music. She said
once that her mother had been the most beautiful woman of
her generation. I have seen none lovelier than Orb. You—
what were you like when you were her age?"

Lachesis changed, becoming abruptly younger, and
stunningly beautiful. "When I was Niobe," she said.

AND ETERNITY         191

"Ah, she was right!" he breathed. "And can you also
make music like hers?"

"No. She derived that from her father's side. Now stop
trying to natter me, and we'll see whether you qualify for
our position."

"I was not trying to flatter you!" he protested inno-
cently. "You know I spoke only truth."

"And a Gypsy can charm anyone!" she said. But she
did not revert to her older form. She had been charmed,
despite her caution.

"What would you have me do?"

"Can you relate to the problems of women, as well as
to their sex appeal?"

He smiled. "In your presence, this is difficult—no, do
not change!—but I will try. I sired but one daughter, and
she was blind and lame, but I loved her as I loved none but
her mother, and I treated her as a princess, and she was
beautiful, but others did not find her so, and that was my
abiding grief. What is there for a girl of the Romani who
can not dance? But she had magic, and I wished I could
teach her to use it, but I could not, for all I knew was the
fiddle.

"Then Orb came, and she played and sang, and she had
the magic. I sent for her, and gave her Tinka, and Orb
taught my beloved to use her magic, and garbed her prettily,
and was her friend, and brought her to the dance, and now
Tinka could do well what was halting before, for her music
gave her strength, and she was lovelier than any save her
mentor, and the young men clustered around her, and soon
she was married. From that moment Orb had no enemy
among our kind, and I loved her for what she had done for
my beloved child.

"Always before, I had seen in every woman the shadow
of what was the great darkness that blighted my daughter,
for without beauty a woman is nothing. Always thereafter I
saw in every woman a hint of the brilliance of my beloved,
and no woman was ugly to me, and I loved them all. If a

192 Piers Anthony

woman has a problem, it is my problem too; if she hurts, I
hurt too. Now Tinka is a grandmother, for generations come
fast among our kind, and she can see, and I thank the world
each day for the occasion that brought her salvation. That
was your daughter, Niobe, who blessed mine, and I would
do anything for her or for you." He abruptly stepped
forward, swept Niobe into his arms and kissed her.

Jolie watched, caught between a laugh and outrage.
What an impertinent gesture! But she saw that Niobe wasn't
resisting, and indeed was cooperating. Two down, Orlene
thought, and Jolie had to agree. The old man certainly knew
how to make an impression on women, young or old, and
all of them were women.

Niobe broke, gently. "It occurs to me that we could use
talent like that, on occasion," she said. "But Fate has been
traditionally female, and there could be complications if one
of our Aspects was male. For example, we have been
having an affair with another Incarnation, and I think it best
that he not know that there is any male involvement. How
are you at emulating a woman?''

"I would regard it as an exercise in costume," Nicolai
said. "In my youth, I dressed in skirt and stuffed blouse and
thieved from a rich household, undiscovered, though the
master stole a kiss from me. But I fear my whiskers would
give me away now."

Niobe laughed. "You would be able to don fully female
flesh, of any age. That is not the problem. It is the attitude:

could you act female for any length of time without
becoming angry or ashamed?"

"Perhaps you misunderstand the nature of Romani
pride," he said. "It is not in being male or female, but in
being apt at what one does. If I emulate a woman, my pride
is in being so good at it that not only does no one suspect,
but any man I encounter cannot keep his eyes and his hands
off me."

The mature Lachesis reappeared. "You are a rogue,
Gypsy man!"

AND ETERNITY         193

Nicolai smiled. "You knew that before you kissed me,
Irish woman."

"Indeed I did! Were you not so winning, I would urge
Atropos to cut your thread immediately. But we are in need,
and it may be better to have your persuasive nature working
for us, for those times we must deal with others of your
nature."

Atropos appeared. "And it is my turn. I'm no young
pretty thing, and never was one; I'm an old black woman
who's seen your kind before. You want to take my place,
you rascal, then you sell me, and a kiss won't do it."

"If I can't sell you, I don't deserve to take your place,
you magnificent creature," he said.

"I think this is going to be fun," Vita murmured.
"We have a case now for some thread cutting,"
Atropos said grimly. "We had hoped to find the new
Atropos before this, but have taken too much time already,
and it will have to do for an examination exercise. Come
and see how you see it, because this is the job you would
have to do." She flung a web, and it settled about Nicolai.
Then she became the huge spider and raced through the roof
and into the sky, hauling the man along, with Vita trailing.

Nicolai looked back at Vita. "I never thought I would
go to Heaven; the Romani really don't believe in it, though
we profess whatever religion is current and convenient. But
if it happened, I didn't think it would be like this!"

"We aren't going to Heaven," Vita said. "Purgatory,
maybe, but not Heaven."

"You do not seem to be an Incarnation. I did not see
you until you stepped out to dance with me. Why are you
here?"

"I came at a bad time, so they took me along. I'm just
a street girl, with two ghosts to set me straight. This is
fan!"

"The Romani could teach you much."
"Yes, but I'm supposed to steer clear of that stuff!"
Vita said, laughing.




194 Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITT

195

"Perhaps we shall meet again."

"Gee, I hope so!"

The spider halted. Atropos remanifested. They were in
a chambar, and something was going on.

"We cannot be perceived," Atropos said. "We are as
ghosts to the mortals here. This is a large saucer, about to
be hijacked by terrorists six hours hence, as it orbits the
Moon. We must manage events to minimize needless loss
of life. Mishandled, the saucer will crash, costing two
thousand innocent lives and several guilty ones. But the
skein is already tangled, and now we must choose which
threads to cut, and to what length. What is your judgment?"

Vita whistled silently. "That old lady, she doesn't fool
around!" she murmured.

Nicolai swayed a moment, evidently set back by the
suddenness and force of this challenge. Then he took hold.
"Are there any stops between here and the Moon?"

"No," Atropos said.

"Any intercepting craft?"

"No."

"So all crew and passengers are aboard, and cannot
leave?"

"Yes."

"May we warn the Captain about the coming hijacking,
so he can prevent it?"

"No. Fate may not interfere overtly in the Tapestry of
Life. It has long since been established that to do so leads to
unmanageable complications and snarls that have worse
effect than any good done by the interference. You might
liken it to performing surgery on a man by poking him with
a long needle: the harm in the doing exceeds the harm of
inaction."

"So we can neither kill the hijackers early nor warn of
their plot?"

"We can't kill them at all," Atropos said. "See, here is
the skein." She gestured, and the endless complex pattern
of colored threads appeared, superimposed on the chamber,

passing through it. Six threads glowed. "These are the
hijackers. One of them enters a tangle at the start of the
hijacking; that one we can cut. But the others—see where
their threads are destined."

Indeed, the glowing five remaining threads wound back
into the Tapestry to interact with many hundreds or thou-
sands of others. It was plain that if any of these were cut
prematurely, there would be extraordinary changes in the
fabric and a major unraveling could occur.

Fate has to manage the entire Tapestry of Life, Jolie
thought in explanation. Normally her staff in Purgatory,
and her field agents in the mortal realm, handle the details,
but in serious cases like this one she takes a personal hand.
She's not about to wreck the pattern they have labored to
smooth, by interfering grossly here.

Nicolai peered at the Tapestry where the tangle was—
the one that marked the hijacking. "Why is this fuzzy?"

"Because I have not yet decided how to manage it. There
is the potential to have a few threads cut and straighten the
tangle, or to ignore it, in which case most of the threads will
be unable to continue. There are about two thousand of them.
But as you can see, this is an intricate knot, with many
possibilities, and if I mark the wrong threads for cutting,
instead of simplifying the knot it may only make it worse, and
many more will be lost. I believe I can bring it down to fifteen
cuts, but I would prefer that it be even fewer."

Nicolai inspected the pattern closely. "I have been good
at tangles in the past," he said. "The Romani leam what we
have to, including the artistry of tying and untying many
kinds of knots." He traced the lines that skirted the tangle.
Five of them glowed. "The hijackers are on the saucer with
the victims, yet do not tangle?"

"The Tapestry of Life takes only peripheral note of
geography," Atropos explained. "What is important is how
lives interact with each other. Those five remain largely
aloof and in charge; they will take a lifeship away from the
saucer if they encounter trouble, and will hold the passen-




196

Piers Anthony                                      AND ETERNITY

197

gers hostage otherwise. Only the crew and passengers are at
risk—and almost any or all of them can be cut off here,
unless I act to alleviate it."

"These threads here and there which almost merge—

what does that signify?"

"A very intimate interaction," she replied gruffly.
"Romance or lovemaking. That normally occurs when a
new thread is started in the Tapestry. On entertainment
voyages such as this one, a lot of it goes on. That is a
portion of the appeal of planetary tours."

He nodded, and continued looking closely.

"Sometimes there is a key strand which, when pulled or
cut, frees the entire mass," Nicolai said, peering closely at
the thick column of threads that represented the interaction
of all those on the saucer. The six hijacker threads were
mixed in, until the tangle began; they were merging with the
throng, concealing their nature and purpose. They were
evidently experienced—and this success would enhance
their influence in the mortal realm, as their subsequent
interactions indicated. "Satan has a hand in this?"

"Of course," Atropos said, "He stands to gain by the
disruption of the orderly skein. The more disruption there
is, the more evil surfaces, and he gleans that evil."

But the evil is there already; Satan merely finds ways to
evoke it, Jolie thought. That helps separate evil from good,
which is the point of mortal life.

But what if that separation occurs at the cost of many

lives? Orlene inquired.

They go to Heaven or to Hell, as the case may be; their

souls are immortal.

But their chance to change their status ends prema-
turely. That is not fair.

That is not fair, Jolie agreed.

"I believe I can cut it down to six lives," Nicolai said,

looking up from the skein.

"Impossible!" Atropos exclaimed. "How do you pro-
pose to do that?"

"By saving this one," he said, pointing to the lone
hijacker thread that entered the tangle.
"But that will only help the hijackers!"
"I think not. Note the close association with this victim
thread, which also enters the tangle. Are they not lovers?"
Atropos looked. "Yes, certainly. What of it?"
"One is a hijacker, the other a victim."
She pursed her lips. "Now that is interesting, I agree!
But of course the hijackers conceal their natures until the
moment comes to strike. He would take advantage of what
offers, male fashion. It can hardly affect the outcome, since
he is the one who doesn't make it through cleanly."
"But if he survives, and loves a victim, what then?"
Atropos peered at the configuration. "You sly dog! You
just may be correct! In fact, I think you are!"

"Satan usually leaves a way out, does he not, in case a
project sours? This is the secret key he has left, intended
only for his own use if he chooses. We had but to find it."
"Only a rogue would find it!" Atropos said.
"Agreed."

They poked into the tangle, analyzing the implications
of the added thread, each making objections and answering
them. "Let's play it through," Atropos said at last.
"Remember, we must not influence him directly, but if an
indirect nudge will do it—"

We can do it! Vita thought eagerly.

"We might help," Orlene said.

"Yes, I could use you," Nicolai said. "You do not
count as Fate; you are ghosts."

Atropos frowned, but did not debate the matter. She
obviously wanted to see whether the loss of life could be cut
down to the level Nicolai suggested. She made an adjustment
on the webs that had brought Vita and Nicolai here. "These
will maintain you in unperceived status for the duration. I
shall return; at the moment I must see to business elsewhere.''

They understood: if this did not work out. Fate needed
another prospect for a quick exchange, and could not afford




198

Piers Anthony                                      AND ETERNITY

199

to wait six hours to set it up. They were on their own for this

event.

Orlene, perceiving the nature of what the Gypsy had in
mind, elected to bow out. She turned the body over to Vita,
though it was now very like a ghost. Vita was young, but
she had the necessary experience.

It was a six-hour wait, for they could not jump forward
the way Chronos could. Vita followed the female passenger,
while Nicolai followed the key hijacker.

The girl was Obelia, an heiress and socialite, making one
of her frequent trips to the moon for entertainment and
gambling. She was reasonably pretty and well formed, and
made the most of it by wearing expensive jewelry and eye-
catching clothing. She was frankly bored, and looking for

excitement.

The man was Basil, of a good family fallen into hard
times. He had the graces of royalty, but he had joined the
hijacking plot because it promised to bring him restored
wealth. The others were fanatics, but Basil was not; he
simply knew what he wanted, and wasn't scrupulous about

how he got it.

The first meeting of the two was coincidental: they were
both unattached and attending one of the dances arranged by
the saucer line. Saucers were the luxury vessels of the day;

they had inherited the mantle of the old ocean cruisers, and
it was truly said that many an illicit affair began on them.
So, in this case, needing partners, the two of them came
together. There was a certain air of elegant mystery about
Basil that appealed to Obelia, and there was no mystery
about the qualities she had that appealed to him: diamond
earrings and a well-tempered cleavage.

So they danced, and it was fairly clear from the outset
what each desired of the other: attention and excitement.
They proceeded to their first sexual encounter with almost
flawless point and counterpoint, in the manner of bidding
hands of a card game, the object being not so much the
culmination as the challenge of achieving it with proper
flair.

But this was to be more than that, thanks to the influence
of Fate's minions. "Let me clarify this," Nicolai said, as he
and Vita watched the couple stripping down for sex. "They
will have a whirlwind fling—by the threads it seems perhaps
three episodes in five hours—but each knows it is only a
passing diversion, and they will part when the saucer docks
at the moon. He will be wounded in the takeover struggle, and
she will be the fifth hostage executed before the saucer
Captain caves in and gives the hijackers command. We must
intensify their passing passion into burgeoning love, so that
neither can tolerate the death of me other."

"But how will that change what happens?" Vita asked.
"She will be near the Captain when hostilities break
out; their threads indicate this. She may be able to save
Basil, and he in turn will save her. But their love must be
true, or events will overrun them both. We cannot tell them
this, but we can enhance their feelings subliminally. We
must be like Romani, deceiving the eye and mind to move
our subjects to our will without their knowing. Can you do
this, girl?"

"You mean, sort of get inside her and make her love
him more?"

"Yes, as I must do for him, using the ghost-power Fate
has lent me."

"Gee, I've done sex with a lot of men, but love with
only one," Vita said, abruptly reconsidering. "I don't think
I could do it with another. But maybe Jolie could."

But I love Satan! Jolie protested, appalled by this
sudden shift.

"Or Orlene," Vita said.

Orlene considered. / loved Norton, but must let him go.
I like Roque, but would not interfere with you. I think this
is an exercise I must attempt.

"Great!" Vita exclaimed, relieved. She turned the body
over to Orlene.

"I am Orlene, one of the ghosts," Orlene said. "I have
assumed control. I will try to enter the woman and enhance
her love."




Piers Anthony

200                                                       AND ETERNITY

201

"That is good. This element is essential, for it is the
only way we can accomplish our purpose."

Orlene approached the woman and tried to enter her the
way she had Vita. To her surprise, she succeeded. Appar-
ently her occupation of a physical host did not prevent her
from animating another, in this special circumstance Pate
had set up. Nicolai disappeared similarly into the man.

So this is what it feels like to animate another body! Vita

thought.

Don't distract Orlene, Jolie warned. Lives are at stake.

They had entered the host barely in time, for Obelia was
just coming together with Basil. She was about to say
something like, "Let's see just how good you are, stud!"
but Orlene put forth a powerful thought, and it came out,
"Oh, what a handsome man you are, Basil!" Obelia was
startled to hear herself say this, for she was jaded about sex
and generally preferred to make her men squirm a little even
during the height of their passion.

"Any man must be handsome in the presence of such
beauty," Basil replied. Jolie had to suppress her laughter,
which might become perceptible and interfere with the
mood. There was the smooth Gypsy man talking!

Obelia felt a small thrill of pleasure at the unexpected
compliment. This thrill somehow magnified, well beyond
what was called for, as Orlene threw herself into it. As a
result, instead of simply spreading her legs and getting on
with the sex, Obelia kissed him passionately.

He seemed surprised, but quickly responded, nattered
that she should take such an interest. Maybe she wasn't the
hardboiled socialite he had taken her for! She responded to
his response. As a result, what both had expected to be a
fast, wild encounter became more extended and tender. He
forgot her diamonds and noticed her eyes, while she found
greater appeal in contact than there had been in mystery.

After the early passion abated, they remained together
and talked, discovering common interests that would oth-
erwise have remained undiscovered. Their three almost

competitive episodes became two far more meaningful
ones. Love was dawning, amazing them both.

They separated at last, for each had other business. She
had a formal dinner with the Captain, for her family was a
significant investor in the saucer enterprise, while he had to
participate in the hijacking. She wanted to cancel the date to
remain with him, and he wanted to warn her to stay in her
cabin for the next hour, but could not without imperiling his
mission.

The ghosts emerged. "That was very nice, Orlene,"
Nicolai said.

"You are an expert!" she replied. She felt a certain
shame for the passion she had engendered and participated
in, for she had felt it as if it were her own. But she knew she
would do it again if the occasion arose. It was a pleasure
evoking the positive aspects of people, rather than letting
the negative ones dominate.

An hour later it started. The hijackers brought out
makeshift weapons and laid siege to the control room and
the Captain's quarters. The saucer's crew was helpless; the
only laser pistol was the Captain's, and nothing else could
overcome the clubs made from furniture that the hijackers
wielded.

"Give up. Captain!" the spokesman for the hijackers
called, standing at the doorway. "Or we will—"

The Captain drew his pistol and fired. But Obelia,
seeing her lover about to be cut down, leaped across and
pushed his arm, fouling his aim. The beam missed, rico-
cheting off the wall, as Basil dived for cover.

"You kill one of them, there'll be no limit to what
they'll do!" she exclaimed, though in truth she would not
have acted if she hadn't come to know and appreciate Basil
so well. She was shocked that he should turn out to be a
hijacker, but that did not erode his appeal. He was like a
bold robber who loved a captive lady. It was downright
romantic, in a way.

Outraged by her interference, the Captain pushed her




202

Piers Anthony                                      AND ETERNITT

203

away and retreated to his bastion: the cabinet where he kept
the master spell that enabled the saucer to defy both gravity
and inertia so that it could fly comfortably between the
Earth and the Moon. Without that spell, the hijackers could
not operate the saucer—and they could not approach it as
long as the Captain had his laser ready.

The hijackers knew they had just two hours to gain that
spell and move the saucer before a police ship came to
complicate things. Their bargaining position would deteri-
orate sharply after that. "Send out an emissary!" their

leader called.

The Captain's eye fell on Obelia. "You're it," he said
gruffly. "You like them so much, you go talk to them!"

Obelia was nervous about going out there, but had no
choice. She went. "What do you want?" she asked the
glowering hijacker leader. Basil was gone, no doubt to see
to guarding the crew or passengers, and she was just as
glad, because she didn't want others on either side to know
of the relationship between them.

"We want the master spell, you ninny!" the hijacker
barked. "Tell him to hand it over!"

"But you know he won't do that!" she said, afrighted.

"Tell him that we will kill one hostage every five

minutes until he does."

She returned to the Captain, who was covering the door
with his laser; any other person who tried to enter would get
shot. "They say—" Obelia faltered. "They say they
will—will kill a hostage every—"

"And they'll take the whole ship if I give them the
master spell!" he replied. "I'll never do it!"

"I don't like the look of this," Orlene said. "Are
innocent people really going to die?"

"They really are," Nicolai said. "But fewer this way
than otherwise. We had to choose between evils."

Obelia returned the Captain's message to the hijacker.
"I thought he'd say that!" the man said. "Bring up the first
hostage!"

Two other hijackers brought up an elderly man who
looked frightened and bewildered. Without ceremony, the
leader clubbed the man over the head, so hard that there was
little doubt he was dead. Then he picked up the corpse and
heaved it through the doorway so the Captain could see it.
"Ask him again!" he cried, shoving her after.

Obelia, terrified and sickened, stumbled through the
doorway to deliver the message.

The Captain was adamant, knowing that his only hope
was to keep the master spell away from the hijackers. "If I
give it to them, they'll have no limit to what they can do; all
of us may die as they rob and wreck the saucer! I will not
do it!"

Obelia returned to the hijackers. The leader nodded.
They brought up a middle-aged female passenger, who
screamed as she saw the club descending. It made no
difference; her body joined the other.

"This is terrible!" Orlene exclaimed. "Can't we stop
them some way?"

Nicolai looked grim. "We cannot. I think Atropos is
showing us the worst of her dilemmas. I have seen death
before, but I do not like this. I tolerate it only because I have
seen the threads and know there is no other way."

"No other way!" Orlene exclaimed. "Where is God?
How does He tolerate this?"

"That is a question to which I would very much like to
know the answer!"

The impasse continued until four passengers were dead.
Then the hijacker leader tried another tack. He grabbed
Obelia and marched her before him to the doorway. "Tell
him that you will be the next!" he snarled.

Obelia had seen the brutal deaths of the others and had
become to an extent numbed and resigned. She went to the
Captain. "I am to be the next hostage killed," she said.

"What do you think of them now?" he asked grimly.
"Sorry you saved that one?"

She thought of Basil, and was hurt and ashamed. She




204              Piers Anthony

had really been getting to like him, and all the time he had
been a brutal hijacker, planning this slaughter! What she
had taken for genuine interest must have been no more than
a contemptuous dalliance on his part. "I made a mistake,"
she said dully. "Now I will pay for it." In fact it seemed to
her that she was about to pay for her entire frivolous life.
What had she ever done to benefit anyone except herself?

"You don't have to go back there!" the Captain
protested, regretting his curtness. "They can't get you

here."

"They will just murder someone else in my place," she

said. She walked back toward the doorway.

"Don't go!" the Captain cried. "I forbid it!" He swung

the pistol to cover her.

She hardly paused. "What will you do—kill me? Keep

your conscience clean. Captain; they will do the job for

you." She continued walking.

"I can't give them the master spell!"

"I know. I agree." She passed through the door.

The hijacker leader was waiting. "What's he say?" he

asked eagerly.

"It wouldn't be ladylike to repeat his exact words," she

said with the wannest of smiles. "But to paraphrase: he
analyzed your simian ancestry in some detail, and described
rather graphically a solitary vice you should practice to the

point of expiration."

"Don't be cute, slut! What's his decision?"
Obelia, expecting to be clubbed momentarily, found
herself at a loss for an answer, so Oriene prompted her:

"When God kisses Satan and the Incarnations applaud,

maybe then."

In rage, the man lifted his gore-soiled club. Obelia
closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, determined not to
flinch. This was her single stand for justice, decency and a
worthwhile life, however brief; this much, at least, she

could do with style.

There was a thud, but she felt nothing. She opened her

AND ETERNITY         205

eyes—and there was the hijacker leader, unconscious, with
Basil standing over him. "There wasn't supposed to be any
killing," he said. "But when it started, I figured I couldn't
do anything about it. But when you—oh, God, honey, I
don't care if I rot in prison forever, I couldn't let him do it
to you! I'm through with this business!"

Dazed, she protested. "But the other hijackers—"
"Tell the Captain to come out here with his laser, and
we'll take them one by one. They won't know what hit
them!"

Obelia hurried in to the chamber. "Captain, Basil—the
one I saved—he's changed sides! Come out and he'll help
you take the others captive!"

"A likely trick!" the Captain snorted. "I'll not be
fooled by that!"

"But he means it!"

"Then tell him to come in here!"

Obelia went back and told him. Basil nodded. "He's
got no call to trust me. Tell him to hold his fire; I'm
dragging this hulk in there."

She told the Captain, who watched alertly while Basil
dragged in the leader. Then Basil stood. "Captain, I'm a
hijacker, sure. But she saved my life, and I saved hers. If
you come out to where you can ambush the four others, I'll
lure them in one at a time, and it'll be over with no more
bloodshed."

"I'm not moving away from this cabinet!" the Captain
said. "You mean it, you lure them into this room!"

"All right. Obelia, you go to the others one at a time,
tell them Alex says the Captain's still holding out, and to
bring in one more hostage each. Quick, before they start
catching on that no one's returning!"

Obelia scurried out, still amazed at this turn of events.
She had done right to save Basil! He did love her!

She approached a hijacker who was guarding the crew-
men, locked in their barracks. "Alex says to bring another
hostage."




Piers Anthony

206                                                     AND ETERNITY

207

"Damn! It wasn't supposed to come to this!" But the
man collared a steward and hauled him toward the Captain's
chamber, leaving the others locked up. Obelia followed,
knowing the hijacker wouldn't trust her in the vicinity by

herself.

The hijacker saw the four bodies. "Hey—where's

Alex?"

"In there," Obelia said. "Now he wants them where

the Captain can see them."

The hijacker seemed doubtful, but the bodies were
evidence that Alex was busy. He pushed his frightened

prisoner ahead of him.

As they entered the Captain's chamber, the Captain's

laser covered the man. "Drop your club."

"But—"
"Drop it," Basil echoed. "You are now the Captain's

prisoner. He'll hole you if you make a move."

The hijacker dropped his club and went to stand by
Alex, who was now starting to recover.

Obelia went out for the next, and the scene was played
again. It was surprisingly easy. The hijackers obeyed the
word of their leader, and weren't unusually smart. In twenty
minutes all of them were captive and the siege was over.

The total number of lives lost was six: the four murdered
hostages, and one crewman who had been struck down
during the initial phase, and an elderly woman who had
suffered a heart attack when she realized what was going

on.

"I was sorry I missed you," the Captain told Basil.
"But Obelia was right; you did good work, and I will testify
on your behalf. I don't think you'll spend time in prison."

"Thank you, sir. But I did get into this to make money,

and I'll take my punishment."

"You may find yourself with money anyway," Obelia

murmured, taking his arm.

Atropos reappeared. "We are agreed: you have good
judgment, Nicolai. You may assume the Aspect." She

stepped through the wall of the saucer, and Orlene and
Nicolai were hauled after.

This time there was no transition; they were abruptly
back at Nicolai's hut. "We shall set a golem to resemble
you," Atropos said. "You will seem to have died natu-
rally." She flung more webbing, and it formed into an
image of the man, lying on his bunk, unmoving. "Do you
wish to leave a message?"

"No. I am old; they know I am due to die soon. Let it
be this way."

Atropos stepped through the wall again, and again they
were hauled after, on the invisible web. They arrived in an
apartment where a black woman was making a bed. Atropos
gestured, and the great skein of the Tapestry of Life
appeared. She reached out and touched one thread, moving
it slightly. She nudged another thread so that it lay in the
place just vacated. Then a little pair of clippers appeared in
her hand, and she cut that second thread.

The clippers disappeared. She extended her hand to
Nicolai. "Take my hand, take my Aspect," she said.

Nicolai grasped her hand. The two stood there for a
moment, then let go. Then Nicolai began to change form,
coming to resemble Atropos.

She glanced at Orlene. "We made the change, girl,"
she said. "It's his substance, become mine. He is with
Fate."

Orlene looked, and saw the young Clotho, then the
middle-aged Lachesis, then the old Nicolai. "But I must
masquerade as a woman," he said. He changed, becoming
an old gray-haired woman, with a long dark skirt, antique
feminine boots, a blouse that looked flat-chested, and a
ludicrous little hat. "Will this do?"

Orlene smiled. "It will do. But watch the whiskers."
"Oops." The whiskers disappeared. "But I'd better

give the body to one of the others, till I catch on better."
Lachesis appeared. "Yes, we shall have some adjusting

to do. It will be strange for a while, hiding a man!"




208

Piers Anthony                                      ANDETERNJTT

209

The former Atropos glanced at them. "You folk better
get out of here; there's going to be an ugly scene shortly."

"An ugly scene?" Lachesis asked. "You never told us
exactly why you had to step down so suddenly."

"Because I saw something you weren't looking for, and
it wasn't right to use my office to change it, but it had to be
changed. My daughter remarried, and I thought he was a
good man, but he turned bad, and started beating her, and
now he's going to beat her too hard. So I switched out the
threads. Go on, get out of here!"

Lachesis faded out, but did not leave. She had merely
become invisible, and Orlene with her. "And give that girl
her thread!" the woman called. "She earned it!"

The woman who was making the bed looked up.
"What?" she said, as the magic surrounding the former
Atropos faded, leaving her solid and visible. Then: "Ma!
But you died ten years ago!"

"Not quite. I came back to do you one more favor, girl.
Now you be sure to testify to what you see—and tell them
the background too."

"The what?"

"That man's been beating you nigh to death! Think I
don't see those scars? Tonight he's going to beat you too
hard and kill you—only I'm going to free you from him."

"But—"
Then the man returned. He had been drinking, and he

staggered, but he had plenty of energy remaining for
belligerence. "Get out here, woman!" he yelled.

The woman started forward, but ex-Atropos blocked
her. "He's going to kill you this time!" she warned. "He's
going to hit you too hard and then claim you fell. You'll be
better off free of him—and you will be, once he's in jail for
manslaughter. Stay back." Then she marched out to meet
her son-in-law. "You good-for-nothing drunken bum! You
crazy wife-beater! You cheat on her, you treat her like dirt,
and then you come home and mess her up some more! I
always knew you were no good, and now you're worse!

Now pack up your things and get your tail out of here, you
slime!" She continued, getting more specific and more
insulting, making it quite clear where he stood with her and
how far away she wanted him to get from her daughter.

He hit her, of course. Ex-Atropos was old, and deprived
of the protection she had enjoyed as an Incarnation, she
went down without a sound.

"Time to go," Lachesis said sadly.
"But we must help her!" Orlene protested.
"No. She is dead. That was her own thread she cut."
Then Orlene understood. Atropos had substituted her
own thread of life for that of her daughter—so that she
would not have to cut her daughter's thread. Now the man
would pay the penalty for murdering her, while her daughter
survived to make a better life.

Vita had been correct: that old lady didn't fool around.
They arrived back in the webbed Abode. "You have
seen more than outsiders usually do," Lachesis said. "You
have seen our challenge and our pain. But you have also
helped us in a significant manner, and you have earned your
thread. We will hold it for you until you have the acquies-
cence of the other Incarnations. Now you must go, for we
have much to resolve, and we prefer to do it by ourselves."

Orlene could well understand! That saucer hijacking,
and that change of Aspects—and the sudden death of the
woman who had been Atropos. "Thank you, grand-
mother," she said, and left immediately.

/ think we'd better take a break, Jolie thought.
That's for sure! Vita agreed. Those Incarnations—
they've got real jobs to do! It isn't all peaches and cream
for them, any more than for us!
"Amen," Orlene agreed, shaken.




AND ETERNI7T         211

COSMOS

In the morning they caught the Hellevator back to the mortal
realm, careful to get off at the right stop. They didn't want
to get carried on down to Hell by accident!

They emerged in Mock Hell and mad& their way out,
ignoring the temptations on the way. They took a carpet to
the rocketport—and discovered that it had been replaced by

a saucerport.

/ don't want to get on a saucer! Vita protested.
Jolie laughed. "This one isn't going to the Moon! It

should be safe enough."

The girl was not completely reassured, but didn't argue.
Jolie bought a ticket by charging it to Luna's account, as she
had been told to do, and the charge was accepted.

The saucer was really preferable to the rocket, because
it had no need for acceleration restraints and its quarters
were generous. Indeed, they sat in an easy chair and
watched through a genuine window as it took off, lifting
from the pavement without a jolt and sailing over the city.

A man came over. "Looking for company?" he in-
quired in a tone that all three of them recognized.

Jolie turned the body over to Vita. "I'm underage,

vacuumhead!" she snapped.

210

The man moved on. It was evident that he had judged
her age correctly, but hadn't been bothered by that detail.
However, he did not want the kind of scene she threatened
to make.

"But you know, I don't feel underage when I'm with
Roque," she remarked.

// is because he respects you as a person, Orlene
thought. He disagrees with the letter of the law, feeling that
the maturity and discretion of those concerned should be the
determinant, rather than an arbitrary figure. Your experi-
ence and judgment indicated—

"Oh, pooh! He was just too hot for me to hold back!"

That too, Jolie thought. The girl did not want reason,
she wanted passion. But the Judge would never have done
it for passion alone.

"Anyway, he knew one of you two would scream if you
thought it was wrong," Vita concluded. "And you didn't
scream, did you!"

Not loud enough, Orlene agreed, laughing.

The saucer arrived in remarkably short order. Its veloc-
ity was deceptive; without inertia, it could travel at very
high velocity without seeming to.

They took another carpet to Luna's estate. Luna was
there to greet them. "Tomorrow is Saturday," she said. "I
will be out for the morning, but I have asked Judge Scott to
look in on you. Meanwhile, I am sure you can use a good
night's rest, after your extended tour."

They discovered that they were indeed tired, emotion-
ally as much as physically. They greeted the griffins, who
seemed for a moment not to recognize them, and settled
down.

They were, of course, ravenous; they had seemingly
spent two days without food. Actually, only the time they had
spent traveling to and from the Hellevator, here in the mortal
realm, counted; still, there was a psychological effect.

"One thing I must be sure you understand," Luna said.
"You may have been absent longer than you thought."







212               Piers Anthony

Vita was in charge at the moment. "Two days," she
said. "But you know, in that short time they had changed
from a rocket to a saucer. It—It was okay, but we'd rather
have ridden the rocket."

"Two years," Luna said gently.

"What?"

"Unless special dispensation is made, the time that a
mortal spends in Purgatory differs from that of the mortal
realm. It may be extended or compressed, but normally
seems to be a year here for a day there. I regret I did not
think to warn you before; certainly I should have."

She's right! Jolie thought. / knew that—but I forgot,
because it doesn't happen to immortals. Only to mortals
who go physically into Purgatory, which seldom happens.
What an oversight!

What an oversight! Orlene echoed, appalled. What have
we done to Vita?

"But I feel the same," Vita said.

"You are the same, dear," Luna said. "You have aged
only a few hours—the time you spent in traveling—for the
aging process in the Afterlife is so slow as to be meaningless
in mortal terms. But the time has passed here, and you are
now legally two years older."

"You mean I'm still fifteen—but the law says I'm

seventeen?"

"True, Vita. You are now that much closer to the age of
consent, if that is important to you."

Vita chewed on a mouthful, knowing that Luna knew
her situation with the Judge, and also knowing that it must
not be spoken. "So if I went back to Purgatory for another
couple of days, I'd be nineteen, and—"

' 'And legally of age to make your own decisions, in this
region of the mortal realm," Luna said with the faintest of

smiles.

"Gee." Vita's notions were stirring up like the winds of

a tropical storm.

AND ETERNITY

213

They had trouble falling asleep, because of amazement
over the passage of two years and horrified reflections on
the recent (or was it recent?) events of the saucer-jacking
and Atropos' change of personnel. So they turned on the
commercial holo, and satisfied themselves that the news
was indeed two years later. Then it went into a rather soupy
romance, and they soon became oblivious.

In the morning, true to her word, Luna left on her
errand, and they changed into something nice in anticipation
of Roque's arrival. But not too nice, because Vita was
determined that it not remain on her long.

There was a chime, and Vita sailed to the door. There he
was, and indeed he looked a bit older. Vita didn't care. She
leaped into his arms. "Oh, Roque!" she exclaimed between
ardent kisses, "I didn't know it was so long! Can you
forgive me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

She looked at him archly. "Have you found someone

else?"

"No. It has been a legal and lonely period."
"Then you don't have a choice! Oh, my love, my
honey, my grand man, I'm so sorry, I thought it was only
two days, I never would have done it if I'd realized, I don't
want you to suffer!" She paused. "You did suffer?"
"Horribly!"

"Then we have two years to make up in one terrific
splurge of passion! Get your hands in gear—can you feel
me while you're carrying me to the bedroom?''

"I can try." He picked her up, and she virtually curled
around him, trying to get everything into play at once.

Talk of nymphets! Jolie thought.

One would think she was the one who had been waiting
two years! Orlene agreed.

Roque staggered into the bedroom with the squirming
Vita, who was kissing him all over his face and neck and
shirt collar while she ran her hands around his body, pulling
out his shirttail. His thinning hair was hopelessly mussed.




224

Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 215

They fell on the bed and indulged in a scramble of
undressing in which Vita's hands did more feeling than
Roque's did. Before it was complete, she wrapped her arms
and legs around him and scrambled into the position of
mergence, kissing him hungrily all the while.

«A moment.»

One might have thought it impossible for either to pause
at this point, but this was a peculiarly compelling presence.

They paused.

"Who the hell are you?" Vita demanded.

That's Nox, the Incarnation of Night! Jolie thought.

«True, ghost-woman^ the Incarnation responded. «0r-

lene must assume the body.»

But Vita's in the middle of— Orlene protested.
«Then I will change the form of that body to the

masculine aspect.» Indeed, as she spoke, the change began.
Give me the body! Orlene thought desperately.
Vita, feeling the ghost's horror, yielded the body.

Suddenly it was Orlene in conjunction with him.

"What?" Roque asked, aware of the change, and

dismayed.

"It is Nox!" Orlene exclaimed. "She threatens ultimate
horror! Oh, what an awful time for her to—"

"An Incarnation?" he asked. "What possible—"

«Now enter my dream.» Nox said.

"She is sheer mischief!" Orlene said. "I need her help,
and she makes me suffer for it! I must do what she

demands!"

Then the dream surrounded them. It was chaos.

"And the Earth was without form, and void," Roque
said, actually sounding relieved to be in a changed situation.
"We seem to be in the beginning of things."

"I'm sorry," Orlene said. "Nox does these things. I
never would have gotten you involved if I had realized—"

"What is that you hold?"

Orlene checked. She was floating separately, with a
sphere in her hands. It glowed, showing a scene of swirling

chaos similar to the one outside, but with a single speck
amidst it. "I don't know; it just appeared. A crystal ball?"

"Let me look at it." He drifted toward her and bent to
put his face close to the ball. "The scene within seems to
reflect our present situation, but not quite. There are two
specks, and one of them is of two children, no, two people,
a man and a woman—why, that's us! Our image is in
there!"

"We're locked in a crystal ball?" Orlene asked, dis-
mayed.

"I think the ball represents the vision we are in, in the
manner an inset represents the scale of the larger picture.
This shows where we are." He tried to touch the ball, to
turn it, but his hands passed through it without effect. "The
other speck—it is hard to see—seems to be a house,
enclosed by a metal fence ..."

Luna's estate! Jolie thought. That's where we want to
return!

Yeah, I've got pressing business there! Vita thought. We
were just getting into it, when—

"Could it be Luna's estate?" Orlene inquired. "Where
we wish to return?"

"Yes! Yes, that is it!" he exclaimed. "Nox is showing
us where we are relative to where we wish to go. Now I see
a faint line, a thread—a connection between the two. But it
winds all around the globe; it is a devious path, if that is
what it is."

' 'Nox does not yield her secrets readily,'' Orlene agreed
grimly. "I don't know why she sought me out this time, but
I am sure we had belter follow her directives, or we shall be
most uncomfortable."

WHAT directives? Vita demanded. There I was, just
getting into it with—

That would have become awkward, if she had changed
you into a man, Jolie pointed out.
She can do THAT?
She can. That's why Orlene had to take over and learn




226              Piers Anthony

her will. It would have been difficult if you had changed

while—

I got the picture! Vita thought, appalled.
"It is apparent that Incarnations are not to be taken
lightly," Roque agreed. "Even those we thought did not
involve themselves in current affairs."

Such as MY affair! Vita thought violently.
"But what does she want of us?" Orlene asked. "She
wouldn't take this trouble with us for nothing!"

Roque considered. "She has your baby, as I understand
it. Is it possible that she thought you would not succeed in
meeting the requirements for redeeming your son, and when
you made progress, she decided to interfere?"

Now Oriene considered. "It is possible. But I doubt it.
She has only to'tell me no, and I will be helpless. Instead
she told me how to go about it. I don't think she wishes me
ill. She may not have wanted to talk to me at first, so put the
awful reverse mountain in my way, but when I won through
that, she decided to help. Maybe this is her way of helping

me further."

In the middle of my turn with Roque?! Vita thought

indignantly.

Roque smiled. "I might question her timing, but per-
haps it is so. Let's assume, then, that this is a necessary and
helpful thing on her part, this isolation of us here. We must
make every effort to ascertain what she wishes us to learn or
experience, and to return to our starting point. This globe is
certainly a hint. Presumably if we move, we shall be able to
follow the line and return to the mortal realm, and resume

our mortal activities."

"Nicely put," Orlene said. "But how do we move?"
"We shall have to experiment. Perhaps we can walk."

He moved his legs, but his body did not progress. "That's

odd; I was able to move before."

"You didn't walk, before; you drifted."
"So I did. It was my will that moved me, not my legs.

So I shall will myself to move along that line toward our

AND ETERNITY         217

destination." He faced to the side, looking serious, but still
he didn't move. "I'm afraid not."

"You moved unconsciously before," Orlene pointed
out.

"So I did. But it is difficult to see how an unconscious
act could be duplicated consciously."
Try a sneeze! Vita thought.

That's not unconscious, that's involuntary, Jolie
thought.

' 'Maybe—Maybe it isn't what we want, but what Nox
wants," Orlene suggested. "If she wanted you to look at
the crystal ball, then you could."

"Perhaps. But what does she want me to do next?"

Orlene shook her head, baffled. "I suppose we just have
to keep guessing until we come across it."

"That notion bothers me. We should be able to work it
out logically." He stood for a moment, thinking. "If the
globe is an accurate indicator of our position—that is, if we
interpret it properly—we are far from home, and must trace
a convoluted route there. If the journey is not physical, it
may be mental. If we form the appropriate attitudes, we
may make progress—"

He broke off, for they had both seen the globe flash. But
that was all; the scene inside it was unchanged.

"I think that was a yes," Orlene said after a moment.

"I agree. That certainly is progress. We must see if we
can make it flash again."

"I had a ring once," Orlene said. "I gave it to my lover
Norton, who named it Sning. Sning would answer questions
by squeezing once for yes, twice for no, and three times if
neither answer was appropriate. Do you think the crystal
reacts similarly?"

"I don't think so, because it didn't flash at all before,
when we were evidently not doing what the Incarnation
wished. I suspect it merely remains inert unless triggered by
our progress toward Nox's goal. But this remains useful; no
reaction is an indication that we are not making progress."




218

Piers Anthony                                       AND ETERNITT

219

"And when you said that our attitude was the key, it
flashed," she agreed. "Does that mean we shall have to
change our attitudes on—"

The globe had flashed again.

"I believe we do have the key!" Roque said. "Now we
shall have to determine to which attitudes it is attuned.
Legal? Social? Political?" There was no flash.

"Ethical?" Orlene supplied, with no better success.

"Practical? Mathematical?"

Sexual? Vita thought.

"Vocational?" Orlene inquired.

Religious? Jolie thought.

The globe flashed.

They looked at each other. "That was Jolie," Orlene
said. "She suggested 'Religious.' That seems to be it."

"Surely she does not expect us to change our religions!"

There was no flash. "Nox is from the old order, from
the dawn of time," Orlene said. "I don't think religion
means much to her. Maybe the subject just happens to offer
the key to what she wants us to understand.'' And the globe

flashed.

You're getting warm! Vita thought, her interest quick-
ening. And that bulb can hear Jolie and me too; it's pretty
smart. Want me to think about how I don't think much of
God because of what He let me get into? I mean, that sure
didn't help my mother any, or Luna with her research, and
that research was to support God!

"The crystal didn't flash," Orlene said. "It must be
looking for something else."

Should I think about how the world was made in six
days? Jolie thought.

The globe flashed.

"Jolie thought of the Biblical creation of the universe,"
Orlene explained to Roque. "So that must be—"

That's crap! Vita thought. It took millions, maybe
billions of years to make the world!

The globe flashed again.

"Don't tell me, let me guess!" Roque said, growing
animated. "Vita thought of science! And what Nox seeks is
a resolution of the debate between Creationism and Evolu-
tion!"

The globe flickered. "You may be warm, but I think not
quite there," Orlene said.

"Then let's make it broader. Does Nox seek our
exploration into the nature of ultimate reality?"

This time the flash was almost blinding. He had nailed
it.

"But why?" Orlene asked. "Why should Nox care
what we think? She has seen it all, long since!"

"Why should anyone care what anyone else thinks?"
Roque asked in return. "Why should the Incarnations care
which way souls go, or whether they are separated at all?
Why should God care, or Satan? I think we just have to
accept as given that entities of all types do care, and that
Nox is normal in this respect. She now wishes us to explore
the matter of reality and come to a conclusion. Perhaps she
is aware of some interesting complication that this explo-
ration will engender, and which will amuse her. So let's
start by arguing the case of Evolution. Who will support
that?"

"I support it, of course," Orlene said. "Don't you?"
He smiled. "You forget: I am a judge. I try to be

impartial. I am not certain that the verdict is in, and in any

event, it is not mine to make."

How can he be uncertain about Evolution? Vita de-
manded. Everyone knows it's so!

That's not true at all! Jolie protested. God created the
world in six days!

"Our components disagree," Orlene said. "Vita says
Evolution, while Jolie says Creation."

"Then we have our opposing views, "Roque said. "We
shall have to make trial of them. When we make a decision
on the matter, Nox will let us return home."

The globe flashed.




220

AND ETERNITY          221

Piers Anthony

"Let me be the narrator," Roque said. "I have a fair
familiarity with both theories. I suspect that since you are
the one, Orlene, who wishes a favor of Nox, you must make
the decisions, after hearing the arguments." The globe
flashed again. "So, in effect, I am the judge who keeps
order. Vita is the apologist for Evolution, Jolie is the
apologist for Creationism, and you are the jury who must
come to a conclusion. The faster we complete the process,

the faster we shall return."

"But I'm really not an objective jury!" Orlene pro-
tested. "I already believe in Evolution!"

' 'But can you honestly consider the evidence for another
view? Are you able to change your mind if the preponder-
ance of the evidence suggests that you should?"

"Well, yes, of course. But I really can't see that

Creationism could—"

"That's enough," Roque said. "Reserve your conclu-
sion until you have seen the evidence from both sides." He
looked at the globe. "Now, as I make it, we are at the initial
stage of the universe, the void, where all is chaos. What
does Creationism have to say of the first stage?"

In the beginning God created the Heaven and the Earth,

Jolie thought.

What do you mean. God? Vita retorted. Where the Hell

did God come from? Who created God?

Roque smiled. "I can see by your expression that your
advocates are already mixing it up. I wonder whether we
can get them to manifest separately, so that I can see and
hear them, and so keep proper order?" As he spoke, the

globe flashed.

We can do that? Vita asked. We can take separate

form?

Apparently so, here, Jolie agreed.

But it's my body! How can I exist apart from it?

Like this. Jolie withdrew her spirit from the body. She

appeared as a ghost, clarifying her form. "Now you do

likewise. Vita."

/ don't know if I can! But she tried—and succeeded. She

emerged as a diaphanous form, translucent and vague.
Gee . . .

"Concentrate on your form," Jolie said. "Remember,
this isn't a true situation; it took me decades to master ghost
form, but you should be able to do it immediately, in this
vision."

The form squeezed together and assumed human out-
line. The mouth opened. "And can I talk too?"

"Yes, in this situation," Jolie agreed. "It's probably
just your thought, but we can hear it."

"But what about my real body? I mean, how can I—"

"Perhaps Orlene can assume a different form, for this,"
Roque put in.

"I'll try," Orlene said, surprised. "It is strange, being
the only soul in this host!" Her form changed, becoming
similar to her living one.

Before long the three of them were settled, each looking
and sounding like herself, even though Orlene was actually
using Vita's physical body. "It's weird!" Vita exclaimed.
"Knowing I'm a ghost, and that Orlene is really my body!"

"That is not the least of the weirdness," Roque said.
"But let us proceed with our business. Suppose I put
questions to each advocate in turn, conducting this explo-
ration in an orderly manner. Jolie, how does Creationism
describe the beginning?"

"In the beginning God created the Heaven and the
Earth," Jolie replied promptly.

"And I want to know just who created God, then?"
Vita said.

Roque shook his head. "That remark is out of order.
You must give the Evolutionist version of the beginning."

"Well, it—gee, I've got to remember stuff I forgot in
school! But it's something like how the universe formed in
a big bang about fifteen or twenty billion years ago, and—"

"Who created the big bang?" Jolie asked.

Vita looked nettled. "Well, I don't know, it just sort
of—hey, isn't that out of order?"

"Yes, unless you wish to permit direct debate. For the




Piers Anthony

222 AND ETERNITY 223

sake of order, I will direct the question to each in turn.

Jolie, who created God?"

"No one. He always existed. He is the Eternal."
"And who created the big bang?" he asked Vita.
Vita had evidently used the reprieve for some quick
thinking. "I don't know how it started. But if it's okay for
God to be eternal, then it's okay for the universe to be eternal
too. So maybe it cycles, getting big and then squeezing
together, and what we call the big bang is just this explosion,
We can't go back and see, but we do know it's here, so why
not accept that it's here, no matter how it started?"

Roque glanced at Orlene. "Have you been persuaded by

either advocate?"

"I really can't choose between them," Orlene said,
surprised. "Either God began and the universe began, or
both are eternal. There really doesn't seem to be a conflict

there."

The globe flashed—and their surroundings changed.
Vita was startled. "You mean that was it? The right

answer was not making up her mind?"

"Or keeping her mind open, in the face of insufficient

evidence," Roque said.

Jolie peered at the crystal. "I think we are closer to
home! The specks aren't as far apart as they were."

"But still pretty far," Orlene said. "I see lightness and
darkness, but it is still chaotic." She was breathing rapidly,

trying to get air.

"Because this must be the second day," Jolie said.
"When God made the sky to divide the waters from the
waters." As she spoke, the scene seemed to separate into a

portion above and a portion below.

"What are you talking about?" Vita demanded. "It
doesn't make sense to divide water from water!"

"What is your version?" Roque inquired. "I must
advise you that we of the flesh are finding this realm
inhospitable, so a quick discussion would be appreciated."
Indeed, he looked as uncomfortable as Orlene did.

"The Earth formed out of dust and gas and debris
circling the Sun. The water was part of it, though I think at
first it was mostly hot rock. So any water was mostly steam,
then."

The scene around them changed, becoming red, molten
rock, with clouds of vapor above. They hovered just above
the surface, sinking slowly toward it. The heat was stifling.

"Say—it's showing what we describe!" Vita said.
"That helps. You can see that this wasn't made in a day!"

"Certainly it was!" Jolie replied. "The day of the
separation of the waters from the waters."

"What waters from what waters?"

"The waters which were above the firmament from the
waters which were below the firmament. The waters of the
deep universe from the waters of the Earth." As she spoke,
the scene around them became one of deep night sky above
and deep ocean below. The heat abated; now they were
cold.

"And all this in just one little day? A billion years is
more like it! I mean, molten rock doesn't cool overnight,
you know."

Jolie shrugged. "Yes, that day could have been a billion
years long."

"Oh, you don't mean one of our days!"

"The word 'day' means different things. A day of
Creation means the whole stage, taking just as long as God
needs to do it His way."

"There doesn't seem to be much difference between
them, then," Orlene remarked. "I see no inherent conflict,
merely ways of looking at it."

It was the right comment. The globe flashed.

"Then let's get on to the third day," Jolie said. "God
gathered the waters together in one place, in seas, and made
the dry land appear."

The scene shifted again. Now there was land rising from
the ocean, jagged and dark. It buckled and cracked, making
great folds that were mountains. Storms raged, dumping




Piers Anthony

234                                                           AND ETERffITT

225

water on the mountains, which wore them down. New
ranges formed, in a constant, restless process.

"Well, maybe so," Vita said. "I mean, naturally the
water settled to the lowest place, and what was left was high
and dry. I say a billion years, you say you call that a day,
so okay. But let's get some life here! I figure it started in the
ocean—they call it the primeval soup or something—and
after a while it crawled up on the land, the plants first."

"Yes," Jolie said. "God said let the Earth bring forth
grass, and herbs, and fruit trees, each yielding fruit after its
kind." As she spoke, a green carpet formed across the land
and trees sprouted, grew, flowered, and put forth many
types of fruit.

"And this day could have been another billion years
long?" Vita asked, trying for irony.

"Yes."
The girl shook her head, bemused. "I can go with

that."

"So can I," Orlene said. The globe flashed.

"And on the fourth day," Jolie said, "God made two
great lights, the greater to rule the day and the lesser to rule
the night." The Sun and Moon appeared, their light forging
through the mists that had shrouded them before.

"Hey, wait!" Vita cried. "There were three days
before there was any sun? Plants grew before—"

"There was light," Jolie said. "It just wasn't the Sun's
light, until God decided that it should be so."

"Or until the Earth orbit stabilized. You do know that
the Earth orbits the Sun, not the other way around?"

Jolie smiled. "I suppose if you stood on the Sun, and
watched the Earth, it would look that way. But we're
standing on the Earth and looking at the Sun, and we can
see that the Sun goes around the Earth."

"There is a case to be made," Roque said with a smile.
"Technically, bodies in space orbit each other."

"Viewpoint," Orlene said. "I still see no inherent
conflict." The globe flashed.

"On the fifth day," Jolie said, "God created the great
whales and all the fishes of the sea, and every winged
fowl." Around them the creatures appeared, the ocean
teeming with life, the sky showing birds.

"But are your days still a billion years long?" Vita
demanded. "If you give them time. Evolution makes them
evolve, so that's all right."

"The days can be that long if you wish," Jolie said.
"God did it in the time he did it; it really doesn't matter."

"Then we still don't really have a conflict," Orlene
said, and the globe flashed again.

"On the sixth day God made everything that was on the
land," Jolie said, and all the creatures of the land appeared.

"Oh no you don't!" Vita cried. "Where are the
dinosaurs?" A huge lumbering reptile appeared.

"You mean those bones God put in the ground to amuse
scientists?"

"Yes, I mean those bones! The first creatures on land
were the insects, and then the amphibians, and then the
reptiles, and then the birds and the mammals. You claim the
birds and whales came first, but whales aren't fish, they're
mammals, and they couldn't have existed before mammals
did. Even if your days are each a billion years long, you
can't screw up the order of things like that!"

"But there were no dinosaurs," Jolie protested. "Life
has always been as it is now, with all the present creatures and
no others. God created them together, and then He created
man in His own image to have dominion over them, and from
that time to this it has been about six thousand years."

"What of the fossil record? It shows how the present
animals evolved from the early ones."

"Do you mean that you have a chain of bones that
shows an unbroken line from your dinosaurs to the modem
creatures?"

"Well, not exactly. The dinosaurs died out. But the
little mammals evolved after that, and we have their bones
to prove it."




226               Piers Anthony

"You may have bones, but they are only what God put
there. And I think even so, they do not have unbroken lines.
For example, how good a line of bones do you have for
human beings?"

"Uh, not too good, for people, I don't know why.

But—"

"Because your notion that man evolved from animals is
a fantasy," Jolie said, warming to her subject. "Foolish
men see a few bones and think that proves Evolution, but
smart ones see that the bones are only bones, put in the
ground the same time man himself was put on the Earth. If
it were otherwise, the bone record would be continuous—
and it's not even close."

Vita was taken aback. "Gee, you really believe this
stuff!" she exclaimed. "But you know, that doesn't prove
anything. I saw a man once looking for a handful of change
he'd dropped. He'd had to carry a bag of things into his
house, then he came out later to round up the change, and
all he could find was a few pennies. Know why? Because it
was by a sidewalk, and some coins must've rolled into the
gutter and gotten washed through the storm grate, and some
fell in cracks between slabs, and some were lost in the
grass—and there were people walking by all the time, and
they would've picked them up and taken them away. So if
you'd judged by what he found, you'd have said that all he
dropped was two cents—but he really dropped over a dollar
in change. Now you take those bones: some of them were
dragged off and chewed to pieces by predators, some got
washed into the sea, some got crushed by stones or just
plain weathered away in the course of millions of years.
Only a few ever got buried where maybe some scientist
found them—and that's why the fossil record is so skimpy.
I don't think God's a tease; He wouldn't put down wrong
clues just to confuse people. He didn't do it at all; it
happened by itself. We've found enough to show us the way
of it, and that's what the fossil record proves."

"But God could have put down those bones," Jolie

ANDETERNITT         227

said. "Those bones don't prove how they were put down.
You have one theory, I have another. Can we choose
between them?"

Orlene shook her head. "I have to confess, I have my
bias, but I can't honestly choose between them. It could
have happened either way."

The crystal flashed. "We're much closer to home
now," Roque said, peering into it. Indeed, they now stood
in a setting that was almost modem, with a variety of
broad-leafed trees nearby and fir trees in the distance. A
deer was browsing several hundred feet away, and there
was the sound of birds in the trees.

"But we aren't through with the subject yet," Jolie
said. "You mentioned this soup from which life formed, as
if this is easy. But the most primitive type of life is
unimaginably complex! Even a single living cell has so
many molecules, such intricate processes, that it would take
a small library of texts just to write out the DNA code! The
odds against such a perfectly functioning system coming
together by chance are astronomical. Indeed, even your
scientists will tell you that it would probably take longer
than the whole age of the universe, as they figure it, from
start to finish, for that to happen. It has to have been done
by design—God's design."

' 'No it doesn't,'' Vita retorted.' "There may be hundreds
of billions of planets just like ours in the universe, all with
their soups, so the chances of it happening on at least one of
them aren't that bad. But Evolution doesn't claim that a
single living cell just popped into existence from soup. It
happened by easy stages. Maybe just two molecules came
together by chance, at first, and that worked better than the
loose ones, so they stayed that way. Then, maybe a million
years later, a third one bumped into them, and if mat
worked better, it stayed. That's natural selection. All those
molecules churning around all the time, banging into each
other, some combinations are bound to work together better
than others. It may be chance that brings them together, but




228

Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 229

once they are together, it's not chance anymore. So the key
proteins were formed in that soup, bit by bit. When one
combination produced life, it was only a little step—but it
worked better, so it kept on, and made copies of itself, and
then things really got going. Mutation—"

"But almost all mutations are bad!" Jolie protested.
"So those ones die. If one in a thousand mutations
makes something better, then that's what survives. It just
keeps going, getting better, because the worse ones either
die or are less competitive. If more than one version works,
then we get different species, and finally we have all the
plants and creatures of the world today, including man.
Mutation and natural selection, in little steps, with a lot of
time—that accounts for everything. We sure don't need   ;

God to do it for us!"                                  I

Orlene shook her head. "It could have happened either   |
way. God could have done it, or Evolution could have, or   '•<.
God could have used Evolution as His tool to do it."

The globe flashed. They now seemed to be quite close to

home.

"We haven't settled this yet," Jolie said. "Even if

Evolution could have done it, it still had to have an orderly
universe. You claim that everything started in one big bang.
How can an explosion lead to the systematic organization of
galaxies and stars and planets we find? It could generate
only chaos—and only God could have brought order out of

that confusion."

"Not so," Vita argued. "In one of my math classes

they got into computer-aided designs. You could start with   \
any shape and keep changing it randomly, and if you
selected for what you wanted, you could come up with just   '
about any picture you wanted. It's cumulative. It might take
a hundred steps or more, but it happened. I started with a V
and made it into a flying bat, just by picking the right shapes

the computer generated."

"But the universe had no one to pick shapes!" Jolie   |

said. "Except God!"                                 \

Vita was taken aback. "You mean I'm arguing your
case? No, I'm just saying that out of a random shape, order
can come, if something selects for it. It doesn't have to be
a person. In the case of the universe, I think it was gravity.
When two bits of matter got together, they attracted others,
just a little, and formed a ball in time. Eventually there were
great stars, and when they got too big, they collapsed
inward and made black holes, and they started sucking
everything else in, making galaxies. We're just some of the
fluff that hasn't gotten sucked into the hole yet. Some
organization! I don't see it as any celestial design, just as
part of the process. And life isn't all that great, either, it's
really just the slime on the surface of our planet. But it's
what we are."

"This is a horrible view!" Jolie protested.

"Well, it sure explains why mankind is so creepy!"
Vita said. "Look at the way we're ruining the world, look
at all the crime and sin and just plain grubbing for money!
You think this is God's own image? Then God's a freak!"

"No, this is just the mortal testing God set up. But I
agree, it isn't working very well, so any time now God will
call a halt and settle accounts."

"We don't need God for that either! Pretty soon World
War Three will come along and wipe us all out and it'll be
done. We'll end with a bang, for sure!"

"That may be God's design," Jolie pointed out. But she
did not look comfortable.

"Have we discussed this enough to enable you to come
to a conclusion?" Roque asked Orlene.

"No, I can't decide either way," Orlene said. "They
agree that the end of the world is coming."

Once more the globe flashed. But they still were not
home.

"Evidently we are overlooking something," Roque
said. "We seem to have brought the competing theories into
alignment for our purpose, but Nox wants more of us.
Unless we come to terms with that too—"




230

AND ETERNITY         231

Piers Anthony

"The Incarnations!" Vita exclaimed. "Where do they

fit into this?"

The globe flashed, and the scene around them changed.

They were back in the early Earth, before life appeared.

The globe glowed, and expanded, and floated up to head
height. It turned, and one side brightened while the other
went dark. Water appeared on it, and land.

"It's the world!" Vita said. "The sea, the land, day and

night! Just as we discussed them!"

Then the light of it intensified, flickering about the

surface and making the depths glow. It coalesced at the

ocean.

"That's life!" Vita cried. "It came from the planet

itself!"

But the flickering was not done. Part of it collected at

the dark side and part at the light side. The dark side
remained constant, but the light side flickering separated
into two, and then into seven nuclei, with a number of

pinpoints as well. These remained.

"I don't get it," Vita said, when it was apparent that no
further change was coming. "What's the point?"

"I suspect that is what we are here to determine,"
Roque said. "Nox is showing us something, making a

point. We merely have to grasp it."

"Light and darkness, the light fragmented," Orlene
said. "At the time when life appeared on the face of the
Earth. Seven major fragments, like the seven—" She broke
off, the realization coming, as the globe abruptly expanded

farther.

"Incarnations!" Vita cried. "The seven major

Incarnations—all on the Day side! And on the Night

side—"

"Only the Incarnation of Night," Jolie said. "She

never fragmented. She still governs the dark."

"But that means that they all formed together, and the
lesser ones too," Orlene said. "When life came to the

world."

"No!" Vita said excitedly. "The world always had its

spirit! Like a hamadryad, the spirit of a tree, only this is the
big original spirit for the whole planet! Life came when the
world's spirit settled around its rim—and the Incarnations
are another expression of it!"

"To watch it and guide it and make sure it goes right,"
Jolie agreed. "As you say, like the nymph of a tree, the
Incarnations exist with it yet apart from it, too, protecting
it—and if it dies, so do they."

"And there was so much going on by day, when the
animals were active, that it took a slew of Incarnations to
handle it," Vita said. "But the night shift, when they're
asleep, isn't so bad, so Nox stayed just as she was."

"And she's not part of the day, so she doesn't have a
say in it, but she still cares about the world," Orlene said.

Now the motion resumed. The globe had become the
scene surrounding them. The Incarnations floated nearby,
each glowing, but their outlines and features were shrouded.
They could be distinguished by external hints, however; one
was great and bright, another like red flame, and another
seemed somehow inverted or backwards: Chronos, existing
in reverse.

"They don't look human," Vita remarked.

"This is before human beings existed," Roque said.
"Perhaps other creatures assumed the Offices."

"But there were no other creatures before man!" Jolie
protested.

"Yes, there were," he replied. "We established that a
Biblical day could be any length, and man was the last to be
created. You can accept that."

She nodded, surprised. "So the Offices continued right
up to the present, with human beings taking over all of them
except for Night."

"And Nox may not be human, but she can assume the
form when she wants to," Orlene said. "So now we
understand the framework in which we exist: whether
science or magic governs. Evolution or Creationism, the
immortal Incarnations are with us. Human beings may step
into the Offices for a while, but they are merely like the




Piers Anthony

232                                                      AND ETERNITT

233

presidents of companies, doing what they are supposed to.
The power is apart from the Officeholders. The Incarnations
are immortal, though implemented by mortals."

"But why is Nox showing us all this?" Vita asked.
"Why does she care about us at all? We are nobodies, even

among mortals!"

"I think she is showing us why," Jolie said.
Indeed, the scene was changing as they talked. Modem
buildings appeared around them, and cars and carpets and
saucers. Then, abruptly, it ended in a blinding flash.

They blinked, trying to see. But as their vision cleared,
all they saw was molten rock and horrendous cloud cover.
"Back to the start?" Jolie asked. "No life at all?"
"World War Three!" Vita exclaimed. "Oh, it's com-
ing, and not too far off!"

"But can't the Incarnations stop it?" Orlene asked,

appalled.

"Perhaps they can—but they will need our help,"

Roque said.

There was another flash, and they found themselves in a
building. They were on a bed, the three women coalesced
into one, with—

"Vita, take the body," Orlene said.

Huh? Then Vita caught on, and resumed control of her

body.

They were back where they had started—in Luna's
house, in the guest room, amidst the act of love. It seemed
that no time at all had passed since Nox had interrupted.

When Luna returned, she found a chastened house
guest. "Is something wrong?" she asked, immediately

responsive to the mood.

"Not exactly," Orlene said. "But perhaps yes. Is the

end of the world approaching?"

Luna paused, then abruptly took a seat. "What hap-
pened?"

"It is complicated, but the essence is that Nox visited

and showed us a vision that explained a great deal—and
suggested that World War Three is not far off."

Luna nodded. "Now you have a notion why our
research is so pressing. We are trying to head off the
disaster that is looming. Not even Satan wants that, but
somehow it keeps building. If we don't find a way to head
it off, in perhaps five years it will happen. But we know it
doesn't have to happen—if we can do what has to be
done."

"What is that?" Orlene asked, awed.

"I am not yet free to tell you that."

Jolie suffered a flash of something, perhaps a memory,
but could not capture it. Had she once known more about
Luna's research?

"But how can we help, if we don't know anything?"
"I suspect you can help, but it is vital that you not know

the manner of it. I suggest that you go on about your quest,

and after that we shall be in touch again."

"But how can I do something as personal as looking for

my baby, when the world may end thereafter?" Orlene

asked.

"Nox sent you on that quest, and Nox showed you the
problem with the world," Luna said. "I suspect that Nox is
no more interested in seeing the world end than we are, but
your quest must in some way relate. Complete it, and
perhaps then we shall understand."

Orlene gazed at her with mixed emotions. But there did
not seem to be any better course to follow.




-10-

WAR

They returned to Purgatory, using the Hellevator, knowing
that another year would pass for every day and night they
were here. Two days was their limit; they dared not risk
more than that, because that was when the big event was to
take place among the mortals, whatever it was. If Luna's
effort failed, then the next three years would see the
development of World War Three.

As they traveled, they discussed what they had seen in
Nox's vision. Why had she done it? Why hadn't she gone to
one of the Incarnations directly, or to God Himself? Not one
of the three of them seemed worthy of her direct attention
for even a minor matter, let alone World War Three!

Well, you know we weren't the only ones in that vision,
Vita thought. / thought Roque got dragged along by
accident, because he was, well, close. Jolie, who had the
body for the trip, laughed at the understatement. But maybe
it was for him, Vita continued.

"Because he's a judge," Orlene said. "Or—"

Because he's under consideration for an Office! Jolie
thought. Again something nagged at the recesses of her
consciousness, but could not be captured.

234

ANDETERNITT         235

And maybe that Office could have some effect! Vita
concluded, excited.

It did seem to make sense. "But what Office would that
be? The one that relates to war?"

And we are going to visit Mars now! Orlene thought.
It did seem to make sense. If Roque were slated to
become the Incarnation of War, the vision would ensure
that he get right on the job of avoiding WW in. Nox
evidently could not affect the events of Day directly, but
this would be an excellent way to affect them indirectly.

"I think we had better observe Mars most carefully,"
Jolie concluded.

They presented themselves at the front gate of the CasUe
of War. The drawbridge descended immediately, and the
portcullis lifted. Two lovely women came out, garbed in
flowing gauzy outfits reminiscent of medieval royalty. One
was in pastel pink, the other in pastel blue.

Orlene, in control for this visit, was taken aback. She
was in contemporary street clothes: a conservative feminine
suit, with hat and shoes. She suddenly felt dowdy, though

the host was only fifteen years old in real terms. "Hello,
I'm—"

"You must be Orlene," the lady in blue said. "I am
Lila, and if I may, without offending you, I would like to
talk privately with Jolie for a moment."

"And I am Ligeia," the lady in pink said. "I shall be
happy to entertain you while Lila and Jolie talk. My
husband is out at the moment, but will return shortly."

Orlene hesitated. "You mean—alone? Jolie could take
over the host—"

/ had better talk to her, Jolie thought. Don't worry; you
can trust these women. I know them both. I will leave you,
and return soon. She withdrew her spirit from the body and
assumed her own form, as a ghost.

"Please come in, Orlene," Ligeia said. "I died abruptly
myself, and not so long ago as to have forgotten what it




236

Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 237

feels like. I was so lucky to have been rescued by the
Incarnation of War!" She took Oriene's arm, guiding her

into the Castle.

Jolie was left standing with Lila. "Where to, demon-

ess?" she inquired. "We are not enemies anymore."

"We never were," the demoness replied. "I had no
share in your untimely death, and your man was merely an
assignment to me—until I came to love him. Then I did
what I could to save him, with your help. But before you
returned, he had cast me off, and any onus between us was
gone. He is yours now—as I think he always was, until he

encountered the current Gaea."

"Understood. But we shouldn't remain here to talk."
"The high turret will do," Lila said. "Follow me." She

rose into the air.

Jolie rose with her. They floated up to the highest turret

of the Castle and in through its stony wall. This was a place
of virtually guaranteed privacy!

They settled into two chairs that were set in the tiny
chamber. "You haven't told him," Jolie said.

"What point? He doesn't want to be improperly influ-
enced any more than Gaea does. But now that you have
brought his daughter here, we shall have to brace the
matter. My concern with you is how this should be

broached."

Jolie considered. "Orlene learned after her death. Her

mission here is coincidental—but yes, I knew that their
relationship would have to be brought out. She already
knows other connection with Luna, and with Lachesis, and
of course she was Chronos' mortal lover. I think she can
handle it; she has gained poise since the trauma of her

death."

"Ligeia knows; I advised her when I saw your approach.

She will keep her own counsel until we return, but of course
she is quite interested. How will Orlene react to the
knowledge that her father has a wife and a mistress, neither
of whom is her mother?"

"Oh, I'm sure she can handle that aspect! She has had
a considerable recent education in human nature. But there
is another aspect to this that could be a problem."

"That she comes begging a favor? He will not be moved
by the relationship between them. He has a will of cast iron
when it comes to compromise. I should know; he saved me
from extinction with that will!"

"So I have heard. She does come for a favor, but
expects him to set what price he will, as the other Incarna-
tions have. No, my concern is what we have learned along
the way. You see, we were visited by Nox, who indicated
mat World War Three and the end of the world as we know
it is approaching."

"That was supposed to be classified information," Lila
said. "Mars is trying to divert it, but each fuse he
extinguishes leaves another burning. For example, one of
the first things he did when he assumed the Office was to
eliminate the leading figure of Babylon, so as to abate the
war between Babylon and Persia. But that reprieve was only
temporary; factions rose up and the war was reignited, and
now threatens to explode into a much broader and worse
conflict. There just isn't any simple fix!"

"This bears on the problem. You see, I have been
watching a mortal who may be a candidate to replace an
Incarnation. It occurred to us that Mars might be the one
replaced. That would account for Nox's intercession at this
time, and for her alerting us to the threat."

"Now hold it!" Lila protested. "Mym is not due for
replacement! "Her blue dress was fuzzing out, in her alarm.

"Mym?"

"Sorry, I forgot; that's his private name. I mean Mars,
or Ares. He's a good Incarnation; there's no call to question
his performance." Her dress disappeared entirely, leaving
her naked and voluptuous in the manner only a demoness
could be.

"None at all," Jolie agreed quickly. "This is nothing
we seek! It's just that we were perplexed as to why Nox




Piers Anthony

238

should intercede at this time—just before we were to visit
the Incarnation of War. Why didn't she go to Mars
directly?"

Lila settled back, and her dress reappeared. "I have
known Nox for a long time. She always has reason for what
she does, but that reason is generally opaque to mortals—
and often to immortals too. I suppose if she knew that Mars
was to be replaced, and there was something urgent
involving his successor, she would act. But I distrust it. She
would have known that her action would be conveyed to the
current Incarnation of War."

"Maybe that's why!" Jolie exclaimed. "To warn him!"

Lila nodded. "I am sure he will take the warning to
heart. I think not even your spouse wants that war."

"Agreed. Satan wants to rule, or at least to prevail, but
that war would destroy his prospects as much as any of
yours. But perhaps we should not rush to convey that
warning, until the matter of the favor is settled."

"Yes. Let's keep both the relationship and the warning
out of it until later."

Jolie smiled. "I will advise Orlene. Does that conclude
our business?"

"I think so. I will advise Ligeia."

They floated down through the floor, orienting on the
other figures.

Orlene and Ligeia were seated in the garden, which was
about as delightful a setting as existed in Purgatory, with
exotic flowers and statuary throughout. Jolie drifted into the
host and immediately relayed a portion of her information.
So we concluded that it is best not to advise the Incarnation
of War of our thought that he might be replaced, Jolie
thought. Orlene must state her case and get his decision on
its merits without undue influence by any other factor.

"Agreed," Orlene murmured. "It is, after all, only

conjecture."

The Lady Ligeia was serving tea. "I must say, it is a
pleasure to have a living person visit," she remarked. "I

AND ETERNITY         239

was a ghost when Mars came to rescue me from Hell; later
I animated a living body so that I could be with him, instead
of going to Heaven."

"This is not my body, either," Orlene said. "I am with

it only until I can complete my quest for my baby."
"Oh, you had a baby!" Ligeia said, interested.
They were soon into a discussion of that aspect, and

Nox's strange involvement.

They were interrupted by the sound of horse's hooves.
"That will be Mym," Lila said. "I'll get him out of his
armor and bring him here."

"Mym?"

"That's his private name. Here at home we aren't
formal. Far from it! Li gets to tickling him sometimes, and
he laughs so hard it wakes me."

"Li—that's Lila? The demoness?"

"His mistress," Ligeia said. "She assumes any form he
wishes. Sometimes he teases her by making her assume my
form. Then Li stands for Ligeia."

"And you don't mind?"

"Why would I mind? He is mine any time I wish—and
I can sleep in peace any time I wish, thanks to her. You
know how men are; they invariably want more than is
convenient. It gets dull. Li is endlessly patient, and she has
excellent experience."

"Since time began," Orlene agreed, impressed by
Ligeia's tolerance. Obviously the woman had no doubts at
all about her situation. But of course she wasn't just a
woman; she was a princess, and that evidently made the
difference.

A man appeared at the entry to the garden. He was not
large; in fact he was a small man, quite ordinary in
appearance, and fairly young. He was in a comfortable
robe; the demoness had evidently seen to his change of
outfit, as promised. There was something about him, as
seen through Orlene's eyes; he glowed. Jolie had become
used to this phenomenon when Orlene took over the host;




Piers Anthony

240                                                        AND ETERNITY

241

most folk glowed to some extent. But Mars glowed with a
peculiar, pulsing intensity, unlike any before. It was, she
realized, because he was her natural father; had she not
known before, she would have seen it now. The other
Incarnations had not been like that.

Ligeia rose and walked to him. She kissed him, quickly
and perfunctorily, but with such assurance that it seemed
entirely in order. Indeed, his interest in her was quite clear;

it was as if they had been together only a few weeks, instead
of over a decade. Yet somehow their manner conveyed the

truth; he was the master here.

"This is a ghost in mortal host: Orlene," she said,
turning within his embrace. "Orlene, this is the Incarnation
of War." She turned again to him. "She has come to ask a

favor of you."

Orlene approached, somewhat timidly. Mars put out his

hand, and she took it.

The glow strengthened, becoming almost painful in its
brilliance. Mars stared at Orlene, and she at him. Then they

stepped into each other's embrace.

"My child, I did not know you in that body!" he said,

squeezing her tightly.

"My father, I did not mean for you to know!" she

cried.

So much for keeping secrets! Jolie realized that the

Incarnation's talent for entering mortal hosts in the manner
of a ghost, and Orlene's talent for reading auras, had
combined at their touch, and all had been clear between
them, though they had never met before.

"I had not known you had died."

"I had not thought about how you had become an
Incarnation! I had forgotten—" Then she faltered. "Oh—

they must not replace you!"

Immediately he read the conjecture in her. "I am not
due for replacement!" he said. "You misunderstood."

"And now you have a wife, and a mistress, neither of

whom is my mother!"

"I will always love your mother, and you. But she and
I are no longer for each other."

"But how can you both be Incarnations and not to-
gether?"

He put his hands on her shoulders and held her before
him. "That is a separate story, my daughter. It was not what
either of us chose, at first. I loved your mother, but I was
required to marry a princess of another kingdom, and by the
time I learned of your existence, too much had passed, and
I was an Incarnation. It was better to leave her to her own
course. Then she became an Incarnation herself, and I was
glad for her. I think we understand each other, now, as well
as any do, and there is something to be said for that."

"And how can I ask a favor of you, now that we know
what you are to me?"

"Ah yes, the baby—my grandchild." Mars considered
for a moment. "I cannot afford to play a favorite here. You
will have to understand the nature of the thing you ask. You
want a seed of war. I will show you the fruit of that seed."

Orlene was taken aback. "Now?"

"It had better be; you do not want to spend more time
here than you have to, unless you leave your mortal host."
In his brief contact with her, he had picked up everything.

"Now," she agreed.

He took her hand. "But what of us?" Ligeia inquired.

"Let the demoness assume my form and see to you," he
replied.

Both women, in mock outrage, grabbed pillows from
the chairs and hurled them at him. But the Sword of War
had already appeared in his hand, and he and Orlene were
moving through the wall and down out of Purgatory, toward
the mortal realm.

"Where are we going?" she asked, impressed again by
the facility with which Incarnations traveled. Thanatos had
his pale horse, Chronos had his Hourglass, Fate her threads,
and now here was the Sword of War, serving a positive
function.




242

Piers Anthony                                       AND ETERNITY

243

"The Babylon-Persia front," he replied. "When I was
new in Office, I resolved a difference with Fate by elimi-
nating the ruler of Babylon, and brought peace between
them. But it turned out to be an uneasy lull, with periodic
flare-ups, because the underlying ethnic antagonisms re-
mained and there were unpaid debts from the war. Had one
side or the other been victorious, the loser would have been
largely annihilated, solving that problem. In our desire to
stop bloodshed, we left those quarrels intact, and they
continued to strike fire. Today the empires are nominally at
peace, but there are continued incidents, and the interest
and involvement of neighboring powers is growing, so that
there is increasing likelihood of a larger conflagration. We
Incarnations have concluded that we shall have to take
serious steps to prevent this from escalating into World War

Three."

"But can't you, as the Incarnation of War—"
"I am doing my best, and have succeeded in staving it
off, but in the face of the dereliction of another Incarnation,
I am losing ground. I give it no more than five years,
perhaps six, before the end. That is why we shall take action

soon."

"To—To replace an Incarnation? But which one, if not

you?"

"I have said too much," he said gruffly. "Here is the

front."

It resembled a wasteland. The fields were scorched,
with little of their crops surviving, and the buildings were
mostly rubble. As they came to the surface beside a hut
fashioned of bits of board, brick, cardboard and canvas,
Orlene saw a plume of smoke on the horizon. She already
knew better than to inquire what was burning.

"I will enter the man," Mars said. "You will enter the
woman. You will understand the language and hear her
name as your own. We will remain until the incident is
done, which will not be long. Then you will understand
what we face here."

'But-

"It will be clear soon enough." He led her into the hut,
walking through the wall.

She followed. Apparently he had extended his ghostly
power to her for the duration. She was a ghost animating a
living body, now to animate another host without leaving
the first.

Inside, he turned to her. "Remember, you cannot be
hurt, though you will feel what happens to your host. Now
enter." He gestured to an old woman who was cooking
something in a pot set above smoldering scraps.

Gee, I'm getting to find out about ghosts again! Vita
thought.

Orlene stepped into the woman. Vita's physical body
seemed to have no substance; it had indeed become ghost-
like.

For a moment there was confusion, as they merged with
the woman's foreign flesh and mind. Then focus returned,
and Orlene was the woman. She was cooking a scrap of
flesh she had found on her last scavenging effort; it was part
of an animal that had been blown apart by a bomb. She
hoped that if she cooked it long enough, it would become
safe to eat. There was, after all, nothing else.

She glanced about. The hut was surprisingly comfort-
able, considering its nature. Paper from assorted packaging
sealed most of the gaps between boards, and bits of foam
from some vehicle's seats formed cushions for makeshift
chairs. But there were no books, and there was no electric-
ity; this was utter peasant existence.

"Orlene."

She jumped. Who was calling her name? Then she
remembered what Mars had said: she would hear the
woman's name as her own. She looked, and saw an old man
lying on more foam fragments. This was the one Mars had
entered.

"What is it. Father?" she asked. Rather, the host asked;

Orlene had not willed the speech, being uncertain how to




244              Piers Anthony

respond. The language seemed like her own, though she
knew it was not.

"Outside."
Oh. She realized from the woman's thought that this

meant he had a call of nature and needed help to rise. She
set down her stirring spoon and went to him. She got her
shoulder down, so that he could clutch it, and heaved him
up. His legs were spindly and the rest of his body malnour-
ished; it was hunger as much as anything that vitiated him.

No, it was more than that, her host's mind clarified. He
had been exposed to a gas attack. He had been at the fringe,
so he had managed to get away, though others had fallen
and died. He had survived, but his lungs were damaged and
his body weakened. Now he clung to life, but was slowly

losing the fight.

She half held, half hauled him along out of the hut to the

trench where refuse of all types was deposited. They had set
up a box there that lent some support and some concealment,
not really enough of either, but it was better than nothing.
She left him there and returned to her pot inside. This was
the extent to which she could still honor her father: to give
him that little bit of privacy for this occasion. What a
debasement it was for him, who had once been proud, the
master of his field: to require a woman to support him in his
weakness, so that he had no secrets of even that basest kind.
She thought about the grief that had come upon them as
the result of this interminable war. She had once been proud
herself, for a woman, having four sons and two daughters,
and a husband who had taken the hajj. Then the war had
come, and had not passed; year after year it had increased
its toll. First the taxes, wiping out what little material gains
they had made. Then her husband had been called to service
to fight the infidel, leaving her father and herself and her
children to manage the crop. They had managed—until the
enemy had raided the village. They had quickly barricaded
the house and hidden the children, but the troops had broken
in, raped her, then beaten her father and knocked out the

AND ETERNITY         245

walls until they found the children. They had taken the boys
away and raped the girls, though they were both under ten.
For the first time she was glad that her husband was not
there, for he would surely have been tortured and killed.

"Orlene!"

That was her father, ready to come in. She set down the
spoon again and went out. She helped him stagger back to
his mat, where he lay gasping. She did not like the thought,
but could not help it: how much longer would he live? He
had been caught by the gas when foraging, and had not
realized at first how bad it was. He had thought himself
charmed, because he had escaped what had brought others
down, but the coughing had not stopped, and too often there
was blood in it. His strength had ebbed, until even standing
was an effort. She cursed herself for her realization that both
her situation and his would be better when he died.

She stirred, and thought, remembering, not realizing that
it was the ghosts within her who triggered the memories, so
that they could leam more about her. She and her father and
two daughters had survived, foraging in the burned fields for
the roasted husks of grain left after the burning. Then the
airplanes had come and bombed the village. Their house had
been destroyed, and her older daughter killed, the younger
one maimed by the collapse. They had fled to the outskirts
and set up this hut from refuse, and now they were just
hanging on until her husband returned.

There was a sound. She looked—and saw her father
rolling off the pallet. She set down the spoon once more and
went to him, though there was little she could do to ease his
pain. He was gagging, the blood frothing on his lips. She
tried to lift him up to a sitting position so he could clear his
throat and mouth better, but abruptly he stiffened.

It took her a moment to realize that he was dead. She
thought of making some effort to revive him, to pound his
back or blow into his mouth to bring him back, but did not
act; what would be the point? He was better off dead. At
least his suffering had stopped, in this world.




246

AND ETERNITY

Piers Anthony

247

There was another noise, this time from outside: irreg-
ular footsteps. That would be the child, back from her
foraging. Maybe she had found something worth eating—or
maybe she had grown too tired to continue. Would she be
shocked to leam of her grandfather's death? Perhaps not; it
had been obvious that it was coming. At this point emotions
were muted, if not actually numb.

The child appeared at the door opening. Half her face
was scarred, the hair gone, and the hair on the other side
was ragged. She limped, but not badly; she had recovered
from much of that injury.

"Mother, soldiers are coming!" she exclaimed.

The familiar hand of fear gripped her innards. Soldiers
were bad news, whichever side they were on; the repeated
tax shakedowns were almost as bad as the straight ravage by
the enemy troops. She went out to look.

They were home soldiers, and their uniforms were
clean. She felt relief: clean soldiers usually did not care to
sully their uniforms with violence. Then she felt hope.
Maybe her husband was coming home at last!

She stood outside, waiting for them. Her daughter, of
course, was hiding; she had had experience with soldiers,

and needed no more.

There were three: an officer and two men. "Orlene?"

the officer asked.

She nodded, guarded until she knew their business.
"I regret to inform you that your husband is dead. He
died honorably ..." The voice continued, but she could
not make out the words. Her emotion was not numb after
all; her last hope had been dashed. She had hung on only for
this, for his return, and now her support was gone.
The child came to the doorway. She had heard!
"Here are his medals," the officer said.
"We can't eat medals!" Orlene protested.
The officer was silent, holding out the medals.
Orlene glanced at her daughter, scarred and lame, any
potential beauty she might have achieved destroyed before
she matured, if she managed to live to adult age. With just

the two of them now, without hope, and the fields remaining
barren, and the war continuing interminably—what was the
point in living at all?

But her daughter—she could still have a chance. "The
suicide corps," she said. "You still need volunteers?"

The officer's eyes widened. "We do not ask this of
you!" he protested. "Your family has suffered enough!"

"For a price," she continued grimly. "Surgery to fix
my daughter's face, and good care for her well away from
the front until she is grown."

"No!" the child cried, understanding.

The officer looked at the daughter. "You understand,
you would not be able to go with her yourself? It is a life for
a life, and the government does not ask—"

"What life is there for us here? We'll both die!"

The officer nodded bleakly. "You will have to come to
the station and sign papers."

"We'll come now!"

"But Mother!" the daughter cried. "How can I—
without you?"

"You'll die here!" Orlene said. "You have been
weakening; I have seen it. They will feed you and fix your
face, and you will be safe. As for me—my father is dead,
my husband is dead, my sons are gone. I have no further
need of life, only of vengeance for the ruin brought on us.
Only you remain, and you can live—this way."

The girl had suffered much recently. She knew it was
true. She did not protest again.

Orlene hauled a cart of fresh vegetables to the gate of
the military base. There were a number of others like her,
selling their produce each day, eking out their livings. But
this was camouflage; under the vegetables was a bomb. It
was her mission to take the bomb to the enemy headquarters
and detonate it there. She would die in the explosion—but
her daughter would reap the reward. This was the quiet,
desperation strategy of the war effort.

The gate guard was bored and inattentive. He had




248

Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

249

evidently spent the night carousing or gambling or
womanizing—any of which activities were forbidden by
both military and cultural conventions—and wished he
could be sleeping at this moment. His glance at her cart was
cursory, and she herself was invisible: just one more poor
widow among thousands. She did not even have to show her
papers, though she had excellent forged ones, or to speak,
though she had memorized several key sentences in the
enemy's language. She pulled her cart on through, unchal-
lenged.

Now she had to get to the HQ building. Whether the

General would be there at this time was a gamble; his
schedule was erratic, perhaps deliberately so, so that it was
impossible to predict where he would be at any given time.
But there was a fair chance that he would be, and certainly
lesser officers would be there, so the bomb would have good
effect. She regretted that she would never know the extent
of her success. It would be nice to take out the man who had
directed the strike against her village which had destroyed
her house and killed her elder daughter. But she wasn't
doing this for vengeance; she was doing it for desperation.
Her government was meticulous about keeping its word, in
this respect; when her bomb went off, her younger daughter
would go to the hospital for surgery on her face, and then to
a program for privileged orphans, and she might one day be
a healthy, pretty girl. She knew better than to let anyone
know about the rape she had suffered; that would count
against her. But keeping that secret, and motivated to
succeed, she would survive. That made it bearable.

Near the gate there were many women vendors. She
moved away, supposedly seeking a region of the camp that
had less competition. In fact she headed straight for the
headquarters building. The officers had more money for good
vegetables—and hers were the best. Superficially. She hoped
nobody approached her to buy any, because she would
very quickly exhaust her supply and expose the bomb.
She would not be able to turn down a sale without

arousing suspicion, unless the offer were plainly too low.

A boy approached. "Here," he called in accented
urgency. He was raggedly dressed, evidently a peasant
servant running errands for officers. Naturally they had sent
him out instead of doing this chore themselves. She would
have to get rid of him.

Then she paused. Could it be?
His eyes widened. "Mother!" he exclaimed.
It was her eldest son! Captive, he was serving in this
military camp! At least he was all right; he seemed healthier
than she was. But if anyone here caught on—

"You must go!" she whispered. But then, unable to
help herself, she asked: "And your brothers—are they
safe?"

He frowned. "One is. One is dead. And the third, I
don't know; they took him to another camp, and—"

"Hey, boy, don't dicker with the hag!" a soldier called,
spying them. "Take the cart to the mess hall, and the cook
will give her its value."

"Right away!" he replied. He pointed, indicating the
way to the mess hall. "We can talk while we go. How did
you come to be here. Mother? I thought I'd never see you
again!"

"I can't go to the mess!" she protested. "I'm here to
blow up the officers' building!"

"But they'll kill you!"

"Never mind that. I'm doing it for you—and your
sisters. Where is the officers'—"

"What's taking so long?" the soldier cried. This time
he strode toward them, determined to make an example of
some sort.

"That building!" her son said, indicating it with a flick
of his eyes. "But you can't get there!"

"Yes, I can! Denounce me! Don't let them know you
know me!" She started toward the building.

He hesitated as the soldier approached.

"Do it!" she hissed, moving faster.




Piers Anthony

250 AND ETERNITY 251

He realized that this was the best course. "That
woman!" he cried loudly. "I think she's a spy! She doesn't

speak well!"

"What?" the soldier asked, confused.

"That woman—there's something funny about her!
Stop her before she does something bad!"

"You're crazy!" the soldier said. But then, seeing
Orlene running, hauling the cart behind her, he decided to
follow up despite being told to by a servant brat. He broke
into a run—and stumbled, because the boy hadn't quite
managed to get out of the way in time.

That gave her valuable time. She expended what little
strength she had racing for the building. Once she got there,
it didn't matter who else was with her. The more the better,

she thought grimly.

But as she came to the rise above the officers' building,
the soldier caught her. She whirled and scratched his face,
making him let go. Then she shoved the wagon and sent it
rolling down the slope toward the building. Would it
connect? It was supposed to detonate when the end of it was
shoved in, and if it missed the building, or struck

glancingly—

No, its aim was true! It was going to strike squarely.

Then a fist struck her from behind. The soldier was
attacking her. She fell as he threw her down. She cringed as
his boot swung at her body. It connected, and she felt
something snap, and the pain flared. He kicked her again,
this time in the face, and she knew her nose was smashed.
He was beating her to death!

The world exploded. She thought she was dead—but it
was the wagon detonating. It had destroyed the building!

Suddenly there were soldiers everywhere. She was
hauled roughly up. "An assassin!" one cried, showing a
knife. He thrust. She had thought she was beyond pain, but
this was different. She tried to scream, but the blood choked

it off.

"Come on out of there," Mars said. "It is over."

Orlene came out, screaming, before remembering that it
wasn't really her. She saw the woman dropping, blood
leaking from her chest and stomach. They were still beating
her, foolishly, for she was already dead. Some distance
away her son stood, watching, silent; he could not protest,
for that would only lead to his death too. As it was, he
would probably be rewarded, or at least commended, for he
had cried the alarm—even if not quite in time.

Oh, God, what a mess! Vita thought, sickened.

Jolie agreed. It reminded her of her own death, centuries
before. The horror of it never entirely abated.

"The fools!" Mars said. "They should have kept her
alive. Then they could have tortured her for everything she
knew. This way, they have nothing."

"Not even her son," Orlene said, still reeling.

"Right. I had to prod him to make him denounce her,
but he did a decent job of it."

"You were in him?" she asked.

"First in the father, then in the officer, then in the boy,"
he agreed. "Now we go back. Don't want to keep the ladies
waiting." He lifted his great red sword, and they sailed up
into the sky.

"Waiting?"

"For most of an hour. They will chide me." He hardly
seemed worried.

Orlene, numbed, focused on a peripheral detail. "How
could I be in that poor woman for several days, and return
in only an hour?"

"You were not in her that long. Only the conscious
time. Perhaps half an hour at her hut and fifteen minutes at
the base. I jumped you forward; it was pointless to go the
whole route."

"But we can't remain in Purgatory several days!" she
protested. "We'll miss the deadline for—I mean, if each
day is a year—"

He smiled. "You had a year of mortal time to play with.
We played with some of it. Only an hour of Purgatory time




252              Piers Anthony

has passed. Fear not—I would not cause you to finish late.
I have the same deadline myself, for that important meet-
ing."

They arrived at the Castle of War. There were the two

ladies walking in the garden. "Ho!" Mars called, landing

before them.

Lila glanced at Orlene. "Did you learn the nature of

war?"

Orlene burst into tears.

Ligeia stepped across immediately and put her arms
around Orlene. "It is an ugly business," she said. "But he
does not do it for spite. He wanted you to understand."

"I don't! I don't!" Orlene sobbed. "All that grief and

death—what is the point of it?"

"There is no point," Lila said. "It is the nature of
mortal man to fight. The pretext hardly matters. This
flare-up was because one side accused the other of violating
the truce. They had both been violating it right along, of

course."

"Rights have to be wronged," Mars said. "Or so the

mortals claim. In this case, they will keep on righting
wrongs by committing new ones, until at last the entire
mortal realm is righted and wronged in our version of

Ragnarok."

"But this is preposterous!" Orlene flared. "Why

doesn't someone do something about it? The Incarnations,
I mean? Surely if all of you got together—"

"It is difficult for us to unify," Mars said. "Satan, for

example, generally has a different agenda."

Satan doesn't approve this! Jolie thought. He uses it to
identify those souls that need earliest correction, but he

doesn't like it!

Why doesn't God, then? Vita thought.
"Why doesn't God do something?" Orlene echoed

aloud.

Her father smiled in his grim fashion. "Perhaps you

should ask Him, when you encounter Him."

AND ETERNITY         253

Startled, she nodded. "Yes, I must see Him. I will ask
Him!"

"I will give you the favor you came for," Mars said. He
had read that, too, when he first touched her. "A seed of
war. When you have similar commitments from the other
Incarnations. I think this is what I would do for any person
in your situation."

"Thank you," Orlene said faintly. She was aware that
this Incarnation, like the others, had indeed put her through
an ordeal before granting her favor. She had learned much
that she rather wished she had not. What was the point in
her quest to salvage her baby, when women were losing
their whole families because of pointless wars? Yet what
could she do except go on?

"You must stay the night here," Ligeia said, stepping
away. She had held Orlene until she seemed stable.

"We must see Nature next," Orlene replied. "Then
Satan and God tomorrow. We cannot rest yet, but thank
you."

"Indeed, I see you cannot," Ligeia said. "But may we
then help you to reach your next appointment?"

Orlene was tempted, but decided against it. "I have so
much to assimilate, to settle in my mind! I think I had better
walk."

"Of course. I am sure Gaea will treat you fairly."
Orlene made her partings and was escorted to the front
gate. She hugged each of the understanding women, and
then her father, knowing that no matter how the experience
had hurt her, he had deemed it necessary. He had been fair
with her.




AND ETERNITY         255

11-

NATUM

They walked directly to Nature's treehouse, letting their
feelings sort out and settle. The horror of what they had just
experienced of war was that they knew it was no isolated
case. All over the world similar things were happening.
Families were being destroyed, and heroic or unheroic
sacrifices were being made, for pointless causes. It seemed
that men just had a drive to fight, on any pretext, and that
the women were unable to stop them. Why was it so?

Gaea was home. She came out to meet them as they
approached. She was an older woman, heavyset, with a
rather unflattering brown dress and green hat. "The
Purgatory News alerted me," she said. "You are the ghost
my friend Jolie has been working with!"

/ never told her your identity, Jolie thought. / would not
have told you either, but Chronos made it known. Now you
must tell her. She is your mother.

"Yes, it is true," Oriene said, nerving herself. "I am
visiting each of the major Incarnations, to ask their help in

recovering my baby. But—"

"But that is not lightly given," Gaea said. "Come in.
I will listen to your plea, because I know Jolie would

not be wasting her time. But I make no guarantee to help
you."

They entered the house and sat in chairs of curving,
living wood. The interior contours of the tree formed a
central loop that had an odd quality: when she looked
through it, she did not see the other side of the chamber, but
clouds and sunlight.

That's her window to the world, Jolie thought. Through
it she can see anything in the mortal realm. She can also
step through it and be there, if she chooses.

Gee, that's great! Vita thought. Can I look and see
Roque?

Oriene had other business, however. "I—I think I must
tell you something else first," she said. "Because it doesn't
seem to be possible to avoid it. I—I am your mortal
daughter Oriene, and—"

Gaea was astonished. "I think you must be mistaken!
Your body is no product of mine!" The fleecy clouds in the
window were abruptly roiling.

"And I am dead," Oriene continued grimly. "This is a
living host, not my own flesh."

The window went black.

Gaea appeared calm. "You understand, I can hardly
take such a statement on faith! Where is Jolie?"

"She is here, with me. She has been all along—ever
since I died. I—I acted without warning, so she did not
know in time."

The window showed what might well be the worst and
least forewarned storm of the century; the globe seemed to
be covered by one big hurricane.

Then, abruptly, it cleared, and a somewhat eerie calm
developed.

Gaea reached out and took her hand. "Yes, of course.
I should have realized. I could have seen it directly, had I
thought to. You are my daughter! But—dead?" She seemed
stunned.

"I killed myself." Oriene had intended to explain the




256 Piers Anthony

circumstances, but was caught by a surge of grief that
choked off her voice.

"But Jolie was watching you!"

Orlene nodded.

"One moment." Gaea's outline fuzzed. Then she was a
young woman, beautiful, very like Orlene herself in her
living state, with honey-blond hair and a most appealing
figure. "I can handle this better in my natural form," she
said. "My magic is going instead to insulate my emotion.
Now you may tell me the story, and I shall relate to it in an
objective manner."

"Oh, you look so much like me—when I lived!"
Orlene exclaimed, amazed.

"I retain my appearance at the time I assumed the
Office," Gaea said. "In twenty years I have not aged—but
normally I mask it, so as to appear older."

"Oh, yes, of course! I am glad for you."

"But why did you do it?"

"My baby died. I—I had lived my whole life, to be the
best mother it was possible to be, and when—"

"The kind of mother I could not be," Gaea said.

"Oh, that was not your fault!" Orlene protested.
"Chronos showed me—you were deprived of—you did
what you had to do!"

"Perhaps. And because of my responsibility to my
Office, I wrote you out of my life. But indeed I missed you,
my darling child! I compensated by trying to be the best
mother to the natural world that I could be: the Green
Mother. But I never looked at you, lest that awareness
distort my judgment. I felt that if I performed well in my
Office, you would do well in your life. Now I see that I
failed."

"You did not fail! I had a good life, an excellent life! I
ended it myself. I—"

The window turned dark, with a preternatural glimmer.
"I remember an unfortunate case involving a baby. Were
you—did you marry a ghost?"

AND ETERNITY         257

Jolie, knowing what was coming, let no thought escape.

There was nothing she could do to alleviate it.

"Yes. Gawain. I was to bear a child for him, an heir—"
"And I changed that baby, at his behest!" Gaea cried.

"And destroyed my daughter!"

Orlene gazed at her with renewed grief. "You did not
know."

"The ghost wanted his son to have his heritage," Gaea
said. "I was busy, and granted the favor without properly
checking, and so bequeathed to that baby the fatal regressive
family malady. I was horrified at my error of carelessness—
but now I am appalled. Look what I did to you!"

"No! I did it to myself! I was foolish and nearsighted and
secretive, and brought grief to all those who had sustained
me!" Orlene cried. "I could have let my baby go, and
remained alive, and had another baby, and so fulfilled my
commitments to both my ghost husband and myself, and not
done the awful thing I did to my lover and my adoptive
parents and to you! If I had it to do over again, with the
perspective I have now, I would do what I know is right."
Yet she paused, remembering Vita and the rest of it. "At
least, I—I'm not sure. But then I did not know, and the blame
is mine, and I curse myself for what I did in my ignorance.
I know that it is right that I pay with my pain for—"

But Gaea was with her now, holding her. "No, no, my
child, it cannot be! I gave you up by choice, knowing it was
best, but you had no choice, your baby was dead by my
hand, you could not adjust so suddenly! It happens to
mortals all too frequently, because they lack the perspective,
their lives are so brief and intense. I see it all over the
world, all the time, and I cannot mitigate it despite all my
power, for it is the human way."

The window had slowly brightened during this dialogue,
and now the weather in the mortal realm seemed almost
normal. Jolie was relieved; she knew the effect Gaea's
emotions had on natural things. That was one of the reasons
she had avoided telling Gaea of this matter directly. Gaea

Piers Anthony

258                                                        AND ETERNITY

259

had surely suspected, but even so, the shock of confirmation
had been formidable, and the climate of the world had been
jolted. Now the worst was over.

"I thank you for your understanding. Mother," Orlene
said after a bit, wiping her face. "But I did not come here
to speak this way to you. I came for a favor—which now I

cannot ask."

"You must ask it, daughter—but I may not be able to

grant it."

"It—I saw Nox, who has Gaw-Two, and she told me I
had to get something from each Incarnation if I hoped to rid
him of his malady."

"That must be true," Gaea agreed. "What is done by
an Incarnation cannot necessarily be undone by that Incar-
nation, for things interact. I did the bad deed, but once it
involved Thanatos and Fate—"

"And Chronos," Orlene said. "He was my lover, as a
mortal. My death caused him to seek the Office of Time."

Gaea gazed at her for an extended moment, discon-
certed. "Then this seemingly isolated error has had enor-
mous consequence!" she said. "Perhaps only an entity
outside the ordinary framework can perceive the full extent
of it—and Nox is that entity. She lacks power in our realm,
but her influence can be significant. Never before, in my
experience, has she involved herself directly in our affairs.
I find this more disturbing than reassuring."

"Surely she does not mean mischief!"

"We cannot be sure. Nox keeps her purpose secret—
and she is the mistress of secrets." Gaea took a breath.
"What is the thing you need from me, Orlene?"

"It is a tear."

Again Gaea gazed at her. The clouds swirled in the
window. "That is not lightly granted."

"I know. If I had realized—if I had known what you
have told me, I would not have come. It is not right to—"

"You must earn it," Gaea said abruptly. "As anyone
else would. That will not be easy."

"None of this has been easy," Orlene murmured.
"How may I earn it?"

"I have a problem whose solution may have bearing on
the continued existence of the human species," she said
seriously. "But that solution eludes me. I could use an
opinion."

"But I know so little!" Orlene protested. "What could
I possibly know about that you have not long since
explored?"

Gaea smiled, not pleasantly. "It is a long shot, I agree.
But Nox's involvement in your case suggests that you may
have something. I will send you among the mortals on a
research mission, and you will observe and form an
opinion. For that opinion I will grant your favor."

Orlene was flustered. "But to provide a thing of such
value, for an opinion of such little value—when I am your
daughter! Who would believe—"

"I think you will have to weigh your opinion most
seriously, to be assured that its value warrants its payment."

She's up to something, Jolie thought. / know her. Don't
argue, just get on with it.

"What must I do?" Orlene asked.
"Leave your mortal host here. For this you must occupy
another host, temporarily."

Don't leave me here! Vita protested. / came to Purga-
tory with you, I want to go form an opinion with you!

"Indeed, I want you with her. Vita," Gaea said,
startling all three of them. They had for the moment
forgotten how the Incarnations could perceive them indi-
vidually. "You have experience that relates. Jolie does too.
I am sending you to a teenage mortal girl who is very likely
to get pregnant this day. Here is my concern: overpopulation
is perhaps the greatest current problem in the mortal realm.
The sheer increasing mass of human flesh is squeezing out
all other creatures, rendering a record number of them
extinct. It is depleting resources and destroying the envi-
ronment for all. The competition for resources is generating




260 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 261

pressure for war and bringing poverty to the majority of
living folk. This is the thing I must deal with if the species
is not to suffer grievously. But this problem is rooted in
individual attitudes and acts. Responsible reproduction is
essential for the perpetuation of the species, but irresponsi-
ble reproduction will destroy it. How can I cause all
reproduction to be responsible, instead of the consequence
of cultural or religious bias, or mere entertainment?"

The three of them were silent. Orlene was reminded of
her lost baby. Vita thought of her brief career as a
prostitute. Jolie thought of the children she had never had,
because she had died too soon. All of them had indulged in
sex with abandon. None of them had succeeded in having
families. How could they judge?

"In many regions of the world," Gaea continued,
perceiving their doubt, "multiple children are needed to
secure the welfare of their parents as they age. No impor-
tuning will cause those parents to reduce the size of their
families; they would suffer if they did. In other regions,
poverty eliminates most forms of entertainment; procre-
ation, it is truly said, becomes recreation. In others, there
are religious barriers to contraception or other means of
family planning. I need a simple, practical, universal
mechanism to make procreation responsible. I believe that a
single case may provide the answer—if there is an answer.
You will seek an opinion about the existence of such an

answer."

It really was a critical matter! Mars faced the problem of
a world-destroying war—and here was one of the roots of
that war. Fate struggled with an increasingly tangled skein,
and the sheer numbers of mortal folk contributed to that.
The problems of the Incarnations were indeed linked. But
how could they come up with an answer if the Incarnation
of Nature could not? "We'll try," Orlene said.

"Lie down," Gaea said, showing her to the chamber
she had used before. "The body will be safe here, and your
spirits will not be in danger there."

Orlene lay down. Then Jolie linked hands, mentally,
with Orlene and Vita, and the three of them floated out of
the body. They had only vague human semblances, and
their spirits overlapped each other, so that they seemed to be
a single confused entity. They followed Gaea back to the
window, which now showed a young, rather pretty black
girl walking toward a building at dusk. She was in what was
evidently her best dress for dancing, white pseudosilk with
ruffles. The decolletage was low, and she wore a sparkling
rose quartz necklace which rested across the slope of her
nascent breasts.

"Follow." Gaea stepped into the window and appeared
beside the girl, who took no notice. They followed, and
found themselves there too. "Enter her and observe. You
may influence her, but that will change her situation and
perhaps distort your observation. When you are satisfied,
call me, and I will bring you back."

They floated as a tight group into the girl. Vita was still
inexperienced, but Jolie was thoroughly experienced, so
helped her get settled in. It was not the same as it had been
with Fate on the saucer, or with Mars on the Babylon-Persia
frontier; their technique was a magical pseudomergence of
physical bodies, while this was actual possession of a
mortal host by spirits. In the old days it had been thought to
be possession by demons, but usually it had been spiritual,
not demonic, habitation. When a demon did it, the demon
normally took over completely, and usually destroyed the
host before it was through. Spirits were far more gentle, and
could not take over unless given leave by the host. They
often, in fact, were benign—as in this case. But the popular
prejudice against them remained.

That was the case while Jolie and Orlene were with
Vita, and now it was the case with the three of them in the
present host. They tuned in on the girl's mind, which was
unguarded, and learned that her name was Ilka, and that she
was fifteen years old, and that her name meant "hard
worker." She did work hard, living up to it, and made




262             Piers Anthony                                      AND ETERNITY

263

pretty good grades, and did a lot around the house, too, but
her mother still put her down as a child. She wasn't allowed
to date, because she was too young, and anyway, all men
were evil, her mother said, they just wanted to paw over a
girl and put a baby in her and bug off. All her friends had
boyfriends, and sure it was true about what those boys
wanted, and two of her friends had abortions and a couple
more were worried, but it sure proved one thing: they were
women. She knew all about it: a girl could get a great good
time from a man, if she got it before he managed to get into
her pants, and if he liked her, he would be back next day for
more, and if she got a baby, well, that was really proof she
was a woman. She saw, she knew. She was tired of being
dumped on by her mother; she wanted some romance, some
independence, some respect. So tonight she had dressed up
and sneaked out: she was going to get into the big dance and
have herself a time, no matter what!

She has trouble with her mother? Vita thought. She
doesn't know what trouble is!

But if she is typical, she'll get pregnant—and we need to
know what would stop her and all those like her, Jolie
reminded her. In my day we needed all the babies we could
get, but today there are too many.

I wanted my baby, Orlene thought wistfully.

She's a fool to want a baby! Vita thought. / made sure
to wear my charm, always! I mean, a baby would be fine,
when I'm older and married and through with fun, but she's
too young. She's my age!

So you may understand her best, Jolie reminded her.

Yeah, I see the track ahead of her, to be a black whore
like me, hooked on H! If you folk hadn't come and put iron
in my willpower, I never would have thrown that off!

Ilka approached the dance building. It was brightly
lighted, and magic flares in the form of dancing figures
floated above it. Couples were arriving and entering.

That looks great! Vita thought. I'd kill to get into a
dance like that!

But you don't know anything about it! Orlene protested.
And with no date—

She'll get picked up. Vita said. That's the idea. It's not
as good as having a real date, but you do it any way you
can.

Indeed, Ilka was looking around now, trying to spot a
likely man without a date. This was the tricky part.

There were several young men near the entrance,
dressed to dance. One was fat, one was ugly, and one was
neither. All were white.

Ilka nerved herself. She knew that white preferred
white, at least to be seen with in public; she risked a crude
rebuff. But if she got lucky, one of these would take her.

Sure enough, the handsome one spied her and stepped
forward. "Lose your date, girl?" he called.

"Not exactly," she responded. "You looking for one?"

"Maybe. You got money?"

"Not enough."

"You expect to be paid for?"

"Maybe." She knew it wasn't smart of her to come
right out and say it.

"Well, I've got the price of the dance. But it's not
cheap."

"Didn't figure it would be."
"You want to go in with me?"
"Why not?"

"And come home with me?"
"Why not?"

He eyed her, looking down her front. It was a good
front, pushed in and up for best effect; she had worked hard
on that aspect, because she didn't yet have all the fullness
she hoped for. "I think you're just looking for a ticket in,
then you'll lose me."

"That's a lie!" But she knew girls did that sometimes.
The thought had crossed her mind. What did she know of
this character?

"Then come to my car first."




264              Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

265

Nuh-uh! Vita thought emphatically. He'll screw you
twice: once in the car, again when he reneges on the
deal!

Ilka picked it up, for Vita had directed it at her. "After
the dance!" she said.

He scowled. "Listen, you black bitch—"

You should talk, you white pimp! Vita thought. You're
trying to get some free ass!

Ilka heard that thought. She assumed it was her own,
and was surprised at her insight. "Forget it, pimp!" she
snapped. "I'll go with one of these others."

"Yeah?" The boy's face turned ugly. He raised his
voice. "Hey, this hooker's soliciting me! Isn't that against
the law?"

"You liar!" Ilka exclaimed, furious. "You were trying
to get me into your car!"

"I'm going to turn you in!" he said.

Brother! Vita thought. They'll believe him too! Get out
of here. Ilka!

Ilka, responding to what seemed to be her own thought,
turned and strode away. But she heard one of the others
speak to the one who had approached her. "You fool,
Frank—she'd' ve put out, if you'd played it straight!"

That's for sure! Vita agreed. And gotten knocked up too.
Crazy girl's got no amulet, no sense!

But I wanted to go dancing! Ilka protested inwardly, the
reaction setting in as she walked back along the street. It
was the only way!

You'd have paid ten times what it was worth! Vita
thought fiercely. A hundred times! What would you want
with a bastard baby?

There was a shock in the host. Jolie thought it was Ilka,
but then realized that it was Orlene. Orlene had been born
to an unwed mother, and borne a son who barely missed
similar status.

Who cares? the girl argued. At least I'd love the
baby—and it would love me. I'd he somebody!

And there we have it! Orlene thought. A baby would
give her identity! A love relationship! As it did for me!

But you were prepared, Jolie reminded her. You were
married, and had a good situation. Money was no problem.
How would it have been on the street, with an illegitimate
baby?

Disaster! Vita supplied. The girl's a fool! She'd get
tired of that baby in weeks, and maybe leave it in a garbage
dump.

And she'd be starving herself, Jolie agreed. But even if
she kept it—even if her domineering mother let her keep
it—she'd still be adding to the population. And it's because
of her bad relationship with her own mother that she wants
it. She wants to be a mother herself, to be the authority
figure in her family. It's foolish, it's unworkable—but she'II
still do it. And so will a million other girls!
I'd get by somehow! Ilka argued.
Either way, it's mischief, Orlene thought.
At least we stopped one baby. Vita thought.
Tonight, Jolie concluded. They all knew that it was a
hollow victory. The girl would probably get pregnant on
another occasion. What opinion could they offer Gaea that
wasn't already obvious? It would be impossible to have a
ghost inhibit every wayward girl!

She was walking by a dark building. Suddenly a man
appeared. He loomed up so quickly that she couldn't even
scream before his gloved hand clamped over her mouth.
She struggled, but then felt the prick of a knife at her side.
"Quiet, bitch, or I'll cut out your rotten heart!" the man
hissed at her ear.

She had no choice; he was too strong, and the knife
hurt. She walked where he shoved her: into the dark
building.

Inside, he took her up a flight of steps and into a
small room. He shut the door and turned on the light. Ilka
blinked in the sudden brightness. This was evidently an
interior room, without windows; no light would show




266 Piers Anthony

outside. And what if it did? Surely the sound of her scream
wouldn't carry, and if it did, neighbors probably wouldn't
care.

He threw her away from him. Ilka stumbled, and tripped
over a bed she hadn't seen in the brightness. She flopped on
it, her fear increasing now that the immediacy of the prick
of the knife was gone.

We've got to do something! Oriene thought. We got her
into this, by turning her away from the dance.

We got rid of the creep, and brought on a horror! Vita
agreed. I've heard about this kind. Even my pimp steered
clear of them. They rape and kill! It's called the slut/
madonna complex or something. They hate women.

It is a trifle more devious than that, Jolie said. There are
a number of them in Hell, all of them surprised to be there.
To them, there are only two kinds of woman: the perfect,
pristine, untouchable one, who is to be worshipped; and the
dirty, evil and sexual one, who is to be condemned.
Unfortunately, such men do have sex drives, which they can
satisfy only with the evil variety of woman. At its extreme,
they become serial killers of prostitutes. Jack the Ripper is
the most notorious example, though by no means the worst
perpetrator.

I never felt easy about the purpose of Hell, Oriene
thought. Now I see that there are those who do belong
there! This man—he glows a twisted black!

"Strip, whore!" the man exclaimed.

Ilka rolled over on the bed. She opened her mouth to
make a frightened denial—but Jolie put an overriding clamp
on it. Don't talk back to him! she thought imperatively. He
will take that only as confirmation!

So Ilka was mute, externally. But internally she was
screaming. He's got a knife! He's going to kill me! He just
grabbed me, and—

Stall! Jolie advised. Move slowly. Sit up, start to remove
your clothing, but have trouble with the snaps. Keep it
slow, but don't stop. We shall try to help you.

AND ETERNITY         267

Now the girl realized that she wasn't talking to herself.
"Who are you?"

Some visiting spirits, Jolie thought. We stopped you
from going with that cheap man at the dance. Now we will
help you get away from this killer, because it is our fault

you fell into his hands. Listen to us, and we will tell you how
to escape.

Ilka was doubtful. "I must be hallucinating!"

Listen to us anyway, Oriene thought. Vita, you have had
more experience with this sort of thing. Keep her moving
slowly, while maintaining his interest. I'm going to check
his mind for clues to how to handle him.

Check, Vita thought. We'll kick him in the balls if we
have to. She was not thinking figuratively.

Jolie drew herself out of the host and floated across to
the man. She entered him. This was distasteful, because she
had affinity neither with the male gender nor with the
criminally insane mind, but she knew it was necessary.
Only her long experience as a ghost, and with animation of
mortal hosts, enabled her to do it.

She oriented on what she had expected: a twisted
melange of distortion and hate. The anonymous girl on the
bed came into focus: her skin was dark, not because of her
race, but because of the filth of her nature. She was a
demoness, a succubus, a corruptor of man, evil incarnate: a
creature to be used and destroyed. She evoked unclean lust
in him, which proved both her power and her nature. By
yielding to her lure, he corrupted himself—so he would
expunge the guilt by killing her. Then he would be all right,

for perhaps a month, until he encountered another corrup-
tress.

Jolie was revolted by the narrowness and certainty of his
perspective. He had not bothered to ascertain any part of the
girl's true nature; he had simply assigned the evil to her.
The evil of evoking lust in him. She could either admit that

she was a despicable whore or try to deny it; in either case
she proved it.

268

Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

269

But Jolie had known this much about his view of women
before. It was an exaggeration of the view of many ignorant
men—and every man was ignorant to some degree. Even
Roque, as just a man as she had encountered recently, had
this fixation: he related best to the forbidden fruit, the
underage girl. Young girls were by this distorted definition
better, because they were cleaner. They had not had time to
indulge their whorish nature, so were more likely to be
disease free, and less likely to talk back. Thus Vita's youth
and adoration overrode Roque's knowledge of her life as a
literal whore, and he accepted her without condemning her.
But that was rare.

She had to explore the specific roots of this man's bias.
There were always variations, and each case was unique to
itself in detail. There had to be something that would
provide the key to defusing the syndrome. She had to find
it before things got violent.

Through the windows of his eyes, she saw Ilka slowly
stripping, having trouble with a broken fastening. Her dress
zipped up the back, and the zipper was difficult to reach,
and evidently a thread had got caught in it. Usually girls had
assistance in getting in and out of fancy outfits; it had not
been anticipated that Ilka would have to remove hers alone.
Actually, Jolie knew, she had put it on alone, so could
handle it—but the man was not in a position to know this.
The man did not try to help her; it was part of his fixation
that the evil woman was using her unclean nature to seduce
him, so she had to do it herself.

She was struggling, indeed, trying to get both hands on
the stuck zipper. In the process she leaned forward, so that
her breasts showed to his gaze as her decolletage hung low.
Jolie almost smiled to herself; that was Vita's art. There
really was some vamp in her! She knew that the man would
watch as long as he was seeing something interesting,
condemning her all the while but not acting. It was an
excellent stall.

Meanwhile, Jolie was searching the man's mind and

memories. She had had experience with this sort of thing,
working with Gaea, but never so urgently in such a difficult
case. The man did not understand his own motives; he had
fashioned a construct of passion and illusion to justify and
hide the ugliness beneath, and would not let himself view it
objectively. She had to slip beneath that construct and see
what he refused to see, without alerting him. He could
readily clamp down on those nether memories and feelings,
if he realized, and then she would not be able to reach them.
She was an intruder here, unable to open any doors herself;

she had to sneak through, like a thief.

There was a surge of conscious passion. Jolie was swept
along, and looked out his eyes again. Now Ilka, having
navigated the zipper so that the top of the dress was falling
open to reveal her half-bra and stomach, was ready to pull
it off over her head. But first she bent to remove her
slippers, lifting her leg and bending her knee so as to reach
her foot. In the process she showed her left leg under the
dress to the thigh, all the way up to the juncture with her
body. She looked bare beneath, but it was actually panty
hose, shaded to make her legs appear lighter than they were,
making of her crotch a perfectly seamless and hairless
region. This, again, was Vita's doing; she knew precisely
how to proffer a view without seeming to, so that the man

would not press her while she struggled overiong with the
slipper.

The effect of this view on the man was electric. He felt
a phenomenal thrill of desire—almost immediately sup-
pressed. A surge of guilt washed through him, and he
wrenched his gaze away.

Jolie followed the guilt to its source—and suddenly had
what she wanted. Those legs were clean—and it was not
right, by his reckoning, to experience lust for a clean body.
Bad women were dirty and hairy in their secret places, fit
only for further defilement. The one good woman—the
madonna—was absolutely pure in every part. Her propor-
tions were perfect, but without hair or apertures; the




270              Piers Anthony

madonna had no unclean processes. Her breasts had no
nipples, her legs met without genital or excretory compli-
cation. She wore conventional clothing only from deference
to the norms of society; she had no guilty secrets of body or
of mind. Madonna, naked, would remain sylphlike, inno-
cent of the incitement of any lechery.

Who was his madonna? She was Laurel, his older sister.

Jolie picked up the essence in a flash: the father had been a
brutal man, given to violence on small pretexts, and the
mother similar. Any slightest infraction brought a sharp slap
from her, and any backtalk brought a beating from him. He
was Kane, the clumsy and stupid child, seldom getting
anything right. He was punished every time his grades
came, and ridiculed in between. He had no self-confidence
or self-respect. It was no better at school; he was known as
a dunce, and had no friends. Once in grade school a girl had
teased him, asking him if he wanted to play "Doctor,"
pulling up her skirt invitingly. Deceived, not realizing that
she wasn't being friendly, and curious about what she might
have under there that was supposed to be so interesting, he
had agreed. She had led him around the comer of an
outbuilding where there was a modicum of privacy, and
told him that first he would have to show her his. He had
opened his shorts—and immediately half a dozen other girls
had popped up from hiding and screamed with wicked
delight at his exposure. A teacher had overheard, and
investigated, and the girls had blamed Kane. That had
brought a suspension from school and a solid beating at
home. Only Laurel, lovely Laurel, had defended him,
saying that the bitchy little girls had set him up out of sheer
mischief. It had done no good, but Kane was overwhelm-
ingly grateful to her. Later, hurting, banned to his room
without supper, he had heard a quiet knock. It was Laurel,
sneaking some rolls and butter to him, the best she could

do. He loved her.

Kane had learned early and painfully: all adults were

brutal, all children were taunting, and all girls were garbage.

AND ETERNITY         271

Except Laurel. She alone was pure. Without her, his life
would not have been worth living.

When he was ten, and she fifteen, she had run away
from home. The father had beaten him, sure that he knew
where she had gone, but Kane had not spoken. Indeed, he
had known her plan, for she had wanted to take him with
her, but had realized that it would be impossible to manage.
So she had decided to go alone and to return for him when
she could, so that they could both be happy. She had to get
established, she explained; she had to get some money, and
a house, because the street was no place to live. It would
take time, but she would do it.

So Kane had endured, sustained by his faith in her.
Laurel would come for him! That alone gave him strength.
His life was nothing, but then it would be everything.

She had never returned. Thirty years had passed, and he
had escaped by joining the military, and later by deserting
that, and running drugs and anything else that offered; there
was always work for the unscrupulous. He could never bring
himself to condemn Laurel, for she was the one perfect
woman, but his disappointment remained as a leaden weight
upon his soul. When he could, he caught and punished bad
women, hiding their bodies and moving on so that he was
never caught. The police, he had long since learned, didn't
understand about the need to punish bad women.

Time had passed during Jolie's investigation. Now
Ilka's shoes and dress were off, and she was about to roll
down her panty hose. Jolie now knew that this must not
happen; the visible nipples were bad enough, but the rest
would be disaster. She wrenched herself from the man and
sailed across to the girl.

Leave the hose! she thought as she entered. He must not
see your flesh there! For she now had a notion how to balk
the killer. It would take some doing, but it was possible. He
sees the madonna as beautiful but sexless—no genitals. The
whores have genitals. He won't kill you until he has sex
with you, proving you are bad.




272 Piers Anthony

But he'll kill if we stop undressing! Vita responded.
These freaks are touchy! Do one thing to balk them, and
they explode.

We won't balk him, we'll talk to him.

What about? Orlene asked nervously. / think all he has
on his mind is sex and murder, in that order.

We'll tell him a story. I'll start it off.

"Get it off, bitch!" Kane snapped. He knew what panty
hose was, of course; he had already forgotten, by involun-
tary suppression, the image of the madonna's clean junc-
ture. It had been fleeting in any event; Jolie had been lucky
to catch the thought. He knew this was a dirty woman,
because they all were.

Give me the mouth! Jolie pleaded. / know what to say!

Ilka, still thoroughly frightened, retreated, letting Jolie
assume control. She was very much afraid she was going to
die; any promise of rescue, however farfetched, was wel-
come.

"You must let me say something," Jolie said.

Kane was startled, because this was the first time she
had spoken to him. "That's right, bitch!" he agreed. "Talk
dirty! Say the words! Prove what you are!" That was part of
it, of course; the girl had to demonstrate her corruption, so
that he felt truly justified in destroying her. She had to beg
for sex in gutter language. It hardly mattered whether she
cursed him or welcomed him, so long as she showed her
nature clearly.

"In a moment," Jolie said. "I have to work up to it,
you know." He hadn't known any such thing, of course,
but since she was going along with his demand, only
qualifying it slightly, and in the process extending the
experience, he was able to accept it.

"Yes, work up to it!" he agreed. His right hand held the
knife; his left hand went to his fly, opening it. He would not
undress any more than he had to, so as not to be contami-
nated, but this much was necessary.

"There was once a girl," Jolie said. "She was different

AND ETERNITY         273

from all other girls, because she was nice. She was the only
nice girl in all the world. Her name was—" She hesitated
momentarily. Would it be too obvious to name his lost
sister? Perhaps a close compromise. She had to hold his
attention without invoking his critical faculty. "Her name
was Lorelie. She lived in a bad family, with a cruel father
and a mean mother. The only good thing about it was her
little brother, who was the only person in the world who
recognized her perfect nature. He worshipped her and did
everything he could to help her, though their father beat him
for it. She would have done anything for him, but they were
both captive in the bad family, and it wasn't fun for either.''

She looked at Kane. Was he buying this? It was pretty
obvious, but his twisted emotion ran deep. He had built a
philosophy on illusion, and she was tuning in on that
illusion.

He was listening, his hands still. She had succeeded in

getting his attention. He could identify with what she was
saying.

"Sometimes the bad girls in the schoolyard teased her
little brother," Jolie continued, elaborating now that her
ploy seemed to be working. "Lorelie couldn't stop that,
because she was in a different school. The bad girls made
him show his thing, and then laughed at him. They didn't
show theirs, but he knew theirs was bad, because they were
bad girls." As she spoke, Jolie remembered her own
childhood, in medieval France, when something similar had
happened. The villain girls had at times been cruel in their
games, in retaliation for the cruelty of the boys' games. Sex
had been known, even in childhood; few made it virginally
to maturity. Jolie had been one of the few, as much by
chance as by design. She had been smarter than average,
and so had had the wit to mask her dawning prettiness, and
to stay clear of celebrations unless close to her mother. One
of her friends had not been careful enough, and four boys
had grabbed her and done it; she had pretended to like it,
rather than get beaten, and then had kept her mouth shut,




274               Piers Anthony

but the word had circulated anyway, and she had been
blamed, not the boys. Jolie had escaped, but she well
understood who was to blame for such things: the boys. It
galled her to reverse the issue in this story, but it had to be
done—and certainly some men were decent, and some giris
were not. There had been Parry . . .

"So she brought him food, and comforted him, and
toed to ease his welts," she continued. "There was little
she could do, but she tried her best. She knew then that they
could not stay in that family; they had to get away, to find
someplace where there were no bad people. So she started
making plans for them both to run away."

Kane was paying close attention, frozen where he stood.
She was retelling his childhood, from the view of the
madonna figure, offering a rationale that he had to accept.
But would her story make him forget entirely what he had
been about to do? The longer she stalled him, the more
likely it was that someone else would come—but she had
little confidence in rescue. She had to talk him out of it, and
for that she needed a truly persuasive conclusion—and she
didn't have one. She just had to keep talking, and hope that
one of the four of them could come up with what was

needed. A life was at stake!

"But there were so many things they needed. Money, to
buy tickets on a rocket or saucer. Identification, so that the
cruel father could not track them down. A place to stay.
Food. Clothing. The list was endless. She wouldn't steal
money, because she was pure and good, and without money
she couldn't arrange the rest of it. Finally she realized that
it could not be done; there was no way for the two of them
to escape together. If they tried it, the police would catch
them in no time and bring them back, and things would be
worse than before. She realized that she would have to go
alone, and somehow get some money and all the things they
needed. Only then could she rescue her brother."

Kane's jaw was slack; he was mesmerized by the story,
so true to his memory. But how was she to conclude it? The

AND ETERNITY         275

consort Scheherazade of Arabian Nights fame had told stories
for a thousand nights, extending her life, but Jolie had no
confidence that this would work here, even if her voice and
imagination held out. Think of a conclusion! she thought to
the others. Something that will make him let us go!

Meanwhile, she continued the story. "So she explained
this to her brother, who was very understanding. 'I will wait
for your return,' he said bravely. 'Don't tell them what I am
doing,' she cautioned him, and he promised not to. Then
she kissed the dear boy on the forehead and slipped out the
window. She had only the clothes she wore, and a few
dollars she had managed to save from baby-sitting, and a
few scraps of food her brother had given her. She did not
know how she would get them a good situation, she only
knew that somehow she would do it."

She has no chance! Vita thought. She'll have to whore,
just to survive—and then what will her brother think of her?
And this garbage about him being a ' 'dear boy''—obviously
he had the hots/or her even at that age, but didn't know it.

You are not being very positive, Orlene reminded her.
She has to succeed! Don't you see—this is this man's
madonna!

Who never returned, Jolie thought. He was terribly
disappointed, but he can't quite give up hope, even thirty
years later. It's the one decent aspect of his sordid
personality. Then she had to resume speaking aloud.

"So she went quietly from that awful house, her eyes
wet with tears for her brother, whom she knew would be
treated even worse because of her absence, but she had faith
he would endure, and give her her chance to elude the
police search."

I'm going to throw up! Vita thought. Her brother grew
up to be a rapist and murderer!

Try to help Jolie! Orlene thought. Or this host is done
for!

And I'm the host! Ilka thought. Will you tell me who you
are, now?




276              Piers Anthony

I'm Vita, a girl like you. The others are ghosts, helping
me stay out of trouble. Now they're helping you.

"She walked a long way," Jolie continued, trying not
to be distracted by the introductions going on in the
background. She knew Vita was probably right about the
fate of the girl, but she couldn't put that in the story! She
had to show that Lorelie was still alive, still planning on
returning. However ludicrous that might seem at this late
date, it was necessary to the man's secret philosophy. "Her
feet got tired, but she could not stop, because if she failed,
it would be the end not only of her dream, but of her
brother's. She could have endured her own humiliation, but
the thought of doing that to her wonderful brother brought

renewed tears to her eyes."

You know, I can see it. Ilka thought. My pa's long gone,

but my mother's pretty mean. If she'd just let me go to a
dance, even! The way I sneaked out tonight—it's like Lorelie.

That gave Jolie a notion. "Then a car stopped beside
her. 'Can I pick you up?' the driver asked. She looked at
him, and she wasn't sure, but she was very tired now and
she still wasn't far enough away from the house, so she got
in. The driver's name was Frank, and he was a handsome
man. She didn't dare tell him that she was running away
from home, so she said she was going to visit friends in the
next state, but her carpet had gotten a glitch in its spell.
Frank said he was going that way, so he zoomed along. But
then he turned onto a desolate country road and drew to a

stop in the forest."

"No!" Kane said, well knowing the sort of thing that

was in store for her.

"But although Lorelie was a good girl, she wasn't

foolish," Jolie continued quickly. "She opened her door
and jumped out of the car and ran into the forest. Frank
chased her, but couldn't see her in the darkness. Finally,
disgruntled, he returned to his car and drove away."

Kane relaxed. He was really into the story. But where
could it lead now? Jolie was running out of inspiration.

AND ETERNITY

277

Snow White! Vita thought. She finds the seven dwarfs in
the forest!

But less obvious. Oriene thought. Make it one old
man—no, better an old woman, no lechery there—who
takes her in.

But she is sick. Ilka added, getting into it herself. Maybe
so sick she loses her memory!

That's it! Vita agreed. That's why she doesn't return!

What a relief! They had come up with a viable contin-
uation. "Lorelie stumbled on through the dark forest, her
tender flesh raked by the brambles. She had gotten some
rest in the car, but not enough. She lost her slippers in the
muck, and her pretty dress was torn, but she kept on, afraid
that Frank would return with cruel friends and search for
her. At one point she splashed through a stream. She didn't
know it was polluted, and the pollution infected the
scratches on her feet, starting a sickness in her. Finally she
could go no more; she fell headlong, and hit her head on a
rock on the ground, and was unconscious."

Kane remained frozen, avidly listening. He seemed to
have forgotten the circumstances, or the supposed nature of
the teller of this tale. He was lost in the vision of the perils
of Lorelie.

' 'In the morning a kind old woman found her. The woman
had been a sorceress of little note, and was now retired on a
meager stipend. She knew immediately that this poor girl had
been poisoned by the bad stream, and furthermore had hit her
head when she fell. Fortunately the woman retained some
ability with healing herbs and spells. She dragged the girl into
her hut and ministered to her. 'She is like the granddaughter
I never had and always wanted,' she said to herself as she
undressed the girl and washed her clean. 'So lovely, so pure.
Probably one of those mean young men was after her, and she
got lost when she fled him.' She put herbs on the girl's bad
scratches, and treated her as well as she could for the stream
pollution. It was going to be a close thing, she knew, for the
girl was very sick."




278              Piers Anthony

So sick she can't remember. Vita reminded her. But
how's that going to get us out of this scrape? I mean, when

the story ends—

We have to work on that, Orlene said. Before Jolie gets

much further, we'll have to come up with an idea for the

ending. Now let's gel to work!

"The girl did survive," Jolie said, and Kane relaxed
slightly. "But it was some time before she could sit up, and
longer before she could speak. The old woman cared for her
diligently, and slowly she mended. But when she was well
enough to talk, another type of injury manifested. She had
lost her memory. All she recalled was her name, Lorelie,
and that there was something she had to do. So it was that
she was unable to complete her promise, because she no
longer knew of it. This bothered her terribly, because she
knew what she had to do was important, terribly important,
but it would take more magic than the old woman had to

restore her memory."

"Laurie!" Kane said. "She couldn't come back!"
"Not then," Jolie agreed. "Not for a long time. So she
stayed with the old woman, who fed her and clothed her and
took care of her as she recovered. Years passed, and as
Lorelie became stronger, the old woman became weaker,
for she had been frail to begin with. Now it was the girl who
took care of the woman. But though there might be a cure
for what ailed the girl, there was none for what ailed the
woman, because only very expensive magic can restore
youth to a mortal person. Finally the old woman was ready
to die, and she thanked Lorelie for making her declining
years beautiful, for Lorelie was the nicest girl anyone could
have for a granddaughter, and she urged her to sell the
property, which the old woman had deeded to her name,
and use the money to seek strong magic that would restore
her memory. Because the old woman had no other relatives,
and Lorelie knew she would not be able to abide living
alone where the old woman had died, she agreed.

"The old woman did die, and Lorelie saw her soul float

AND ETERNITY          279

promptly up to Heaven, and arranged to have her body
decently buried. Then she sold the property, and learned
that it had increased greatly in value. The old woman had ,
been poor, but this was one of the few deeply forested
regions left in the state, and the state wanted it for a park.
So Lorelie was now a reasonably wealthy woman. She
could do what she had to do—if only she could remember
what it was!"

/ think I have it! Ilka thought. She identified readily with
Lorelie, because they were the same age at the start of the
story, and Vita felt a similar affinity. She remembers, and
she comes back—and he kills her!

You dummy! Vita objected. It's your body he'll kill! We
don't dare suggest that to him!

No, it may work, Orlene thought. If her brother thinks
she's a slut, then learns she's his sister, he won't kill her!

Jolie had continued talking while this dialogue occurred.
Would that work? Would Kane let Ilka go if he identified
her with Lorelie—with his sister Laura? Maybe it would
work!

"So she finally found a sorceress who specialized in
memory-restorative magic," Jolie continued, having cov-
ered several prior contacts that hadn't worked out. "It had
taken her an unconscionably long time to do it, and this was
the most expensive one of all. It would take most of her
remaining money. But she did go to the woman, and the
woman worked her expensive spell, and at last Lorelie's
memory was restored."

Kane was rapt. "How long—?"

"Suddenly she knew what it was she had to do," Jolie
said. "But she was chagrined to discover that so much time
had passed in the search that it now seemed pointless to do
it. More than thirty years! She was now a woman of
forty-five, pure and good as ever, but way too late to rescue
her little brother. By this time their parents would be dead,
and the little boy would be a grown man of forty. What a
horrible mishap, that poisoning and fall that had taken away




280              Piers Anthony

her memory. It was true that she had had a good life with
the kind old woman, but if she had been able to remember
earlier, she never would have waited. She would have
returned immediately and brought her brother to the old
woman's house, and they would have lived there happily,
free of all the bad things of the world. Now it was too late!

"But was it? She thought about it, and realized that her
good little brother might still be waiting for her return. Oh,
he would be in a different house by now, perhaps even a
different city, but she could still find him. Better late than
never! What a joyful reunion they could have, even at this

late date!"

But he doesn't recognize her. Vita thought. He mistakes

her for a whore, and is about to kill her—
Before he recognizes her. Ilka concluded.
/ like the way your mind works. Vita thought. Can we be

friends?

Sure, if you like. If I live.

"She still had a little money left," Jolie continued. She
was getting nervous now, because if this ploy misfired, they
would have no other chance except a desperation fight for
life. Fortunately Ilka had not been bound—but that might
only be because the man was quite sure of his ability to
overpower her. She didn't want it to come to that, though
she had learned a thing or two about close combat in the
course of her association with Satan, Gaea, and Mars. "She
used it to have her brother located. Then she went to where
he was, which was indeed in another city, for he had moved
frequently, for what reason she didn't know."

Because it wasn't safe for him to stay close to where he
had killed. Vita thought, having picked up most of the
man's background from Jolie's thoughts. Lorelie won't

much like that!

"At last she came to him, at night on a deserted street.
'0 my brother, where are you?' she thought, her pure heart
beating with anticipation and excitement." Now came the
crucial part; she didn't know whether it would work, but it

AND ETERNITY         281

was all she had. "She walked along the street, looking,
somehow aware that he was near—and a man jumped out
and grabbed her."

Kane jumped. "No, I wouldn't do that!" he exclaimed.

"He hauled her into the building, his hand over her
mouth so that she couldn't scream—but it also prevented
her from identifying herself," Jolie said, nervousness
putting a shake in her voice. This seemed so obvious, so
stupid, now that she was in it; how could it possibly work?
"He thought she was one of the bad girls—"

"It's a lie!" he cried. "It's just a dumb story to fool me!
You aren't my sister! You're just a black teenage slut!" He
lifted the knife threateningly.

Jolie realized that she should have engineered the story
to account for the color and youth. The sister could have
been gravely injured, so had to use magic to animate a
younger body. But it was too late for that now. "Lorelie
tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen—"

"You aren't her!" he screamed, throwing himself on
her, the knife held up. "You have to be used and killed!"

Jolie, still in control of the body, tried to squirm aside,
but he was too fast and strong for her. He held her down
with his left arm across her throat, choking her, while his
groin pressed against hers. But he could not make headway,
because she still wore the panty hose.

He cursed and used his free hand—the one holding the
knife—to reach down, to wrench the hose out of the way.
He reversed the knife without letting go of it, so that it
pointed up, while with two fingers he caught the waistband
and yanked down. The material tore—and Jolie, in desper-
ation, bucked her hips, trying to throw him off in this
moment of his partial distraction. "Kane!" she cried.
"No!"

Her left hip slammed into the butt end of the knife. She
felt dull pain as it bruised her. But Kane cried out at the
same time, in pain and horror, his body stiffening.

Then something liquid coursed down on her hip. Unable




282 Piers Anthony

to think what it might be, she looked—and saw bright
redness spreading out across her thigh and the bed below.
He had stabbed himself! Or rather, her effort to buck him off
had caused the point of the knife he held to ram upward into
his body, right at the crotch. He had castrated himself.

Then he relaxed, his weight becoming heavy on her. He
had passed out. She struggled to pull herself out from
under, lubricated by the blood. It was messy, but possible,
now that he was not trying to hold her. Soon she stood
beside the bed, her left leg swathed in blood, staring down
at him.

He's bleeding to death! Orlene thought, horrified.

He deserves it! Vita retorted. He's a rapist and
murderer!

Jolie, more experienced and practical about this sort of
horror, wasted no more time. She hurried to the apartment's
little bathroom and hastily peeled off the panty hose. That
left her leg almost clean, but she found a sponge and
washed it anyway. Then she scrambled back into the dress,
having no trouble with the fastenings. As she did this, she
explained to the others: "He may be dying, or he may be
less gravely wounded, and he could recover at any moment.
We need to be out of here before he wakes. Then it will be
in God's hands whether he lives or dies, not ours." She
found the two slippers, and put one on. The second was
blood-spattered, so she quickly rinsed it under the rushing
tap and put it on wet. Details didn't matter!

She rinsed the soiled panty hose in the sink, then wrung
it dry, wadded it up, and held it in a ball in her hand. She
ran more water to clean the sink, so it would not be apparent
that it had been used. She used the wadded hose to wipe her
fingerprints off the handles.

The door wasn't locked. Had she realized, she might
have distracted the man, led him a chase around the bed and
made a break for the door and out! She went out now,
running down the short hall and the stairs, and outside.

Then she slowed, deliberately, and walked on down the

AND ETERNITY         283

street in the direction she had been going. "I will return
your body to you in a moment. Ilka," she murmured. "Are
you able to proceed?"

No! the girl thought. He almost killed me!

"But you are alive," Jolie said. "When something
similar happened to me, long ago, I died. This time I helped
you avoid that—but I think in future you must stay closer to
home, even though it may be dull."

Yes! Yes! I'll never go out alone again!

Jolie suspected that would be the case. The girl had had
about as bad a fright as it was possible to survive. "I think
you should say nothing about what happened. I have tried to
eradicate the traces of your presence in his chamber. Go
home, sneak back into your room, and pretend you were
always there. Wash and dry your panty hose when you can.
There will be a big splash of news when the man's body is
discovered—or none, if he survives and flees the city. Stay
out of it; there would be only mischief if they knew about
you. Just make sure that you are never caught by such a man
again. Are you ready to take over now?"
/ think so.

Jolie returned control to her. Now we must leave, she
thought. We have corrected our error, and we have other
business.

"No!" Ilka cried. "I need you!"

No you don't. Vita thought. We got you into trouble, so
we had to get you out of it, but now you can get along okay
yourself. But I'll try to visit you, when I'm back in my own

body. Remember my name: Vita. Don't forget and try to kill
me!

Ilka began to laugh, hysterically, but managed to stifle
it. "Then 'bye, for now," she said. "You sure did help
me!"

They pulled out and floated beside her. Jolie shaped
herself into visible ghost form. "Maybe you helped us
too," she said, projecting her thought carefully so that the
girl could receive it despite the separation.

284

Piers Anthony

Then they floated up into the night sky, fading from the
girl's view. They saw her walking on toward her home,
briskly, as if nothing had happened. It would take Ilka some
time to recover equilibrium, but it seemed she would make

it.

"Gaea!" Jolie called. She could have returned directly,

herself, of course, but neither Oriene nor Vita knew how, so

it was better to have Gaea do it.

The window opened immediately before them. They
floated through and were back inside Gaea's Treehouse.
They went to Vita's body and entered it, and Oriene
animated it. It was her responsibility to report.

Oriene got up, paused for a moment to acclimatize, then
walked out to the main chamber. Gaea was waiting for her.

"What is your conclusion?"

Oriene sat down. "The girl was confused and dissatis-
fied with her life, I think with reason. She would have
gotten pregnant without meaning to, but the notion didn't
really bother her, because she thought she wanted a baby.
She thought it would improve her life. So the root of it was
deeper than mere accident or carelessness; she wanted
someone to love, who would love her."

"It is in my power to abolish love, with the aid of some
of my supporting Incarnations, such as Eros," Gaea said.

"Should I do that?"

"Abolish love?" Oriene asked with horror. "Oh, no,
that would be a horrible overreaction! It is love that makes
life worthwhile when all else is ugly. There must be some

other way!"

"What way do you suppose that would be?"
"Well, maybe—maybe if there was love, but not the
ability to conceive unless all the considerations were in
order. If a woman is healthy, and well-balanced, and
economically secure, so that the baby would have a good
home. If she couldn't have a baby until then, there would be
far fewer babies, and perhaps no further overpopulation
problem."

AND ETERNITY         285

Gaea nodded. "I think your opinion is worthy of
consideration. But such a course would require a judgment
of female fitness that goes beyond the strictly natural. The
social factor would have to be right. That sort of larger
judgment is the prerequisite of another Incarnation, whose
active cooperation I would need to make the policy effec-
tive."

"Who is that?" Oriene asked, excited by the prospect
of such a significant step in the welfare of mankind.

"God."

Oriene stared at her a moment. She realized that this
answer was obvious; she just hadn't been thinking in that
context. "God must decide what is good, of course," she
agreed. "But couldn't you approach Him about the mat-
ter?"

"I think not at this time," Gaea replied, with a strange
expression.

"But in my quest to—I must approach Him!" Oriene
said. "Would you mind if I mentioned this matter too?"

"Not at all, my daughter. I think that would be
appropriate. If you gain the acquiescence of the final two
Incarnations, I will grant you the tear you seek. You have,
I think, more than earned it." Evidently Gaea knew about
their siege with the murderer.

That made her think of something. They had caused the
man's critical injury, or even death—but had it been only
them? Or had a deeper part of Kane truly wanted to believe
Jolie's story, despite his conscious denial of it, and caused
that hand to turn in that critical way, placing the knife?
What punishment would a man see as suitable for the one
who attacked the one truly pristine woman in the world?
The one who called him by his name at the very end, when
he had never told it to his captive. Something very like the
one he had received, perhaps.

"Quite possibly," Gaea said, reading her thought.

"But God—where was God when that awful man
grabbed that innocent girl?" Oriene asked. "Why didn't He

286              Piers Anthony

stop it? Why does He let this sort of thing go on all the time,

all over the world?"                              .
"You would handle things differently?" Gaea inquired,

lifting a brow.

"Oh, I didn't mean to criticize God!" Orlene said

quickly. "I just—there is so much I don't understand!"
"Perhaps you can ask Him that, too, when you see
Him," Gaea said, unsmiling.

12

EVEL

They retired to Hell's Acres, where they spent a comfortable
night. Theoretically they needed neither food nor sleep
here, but the experiences they had had with War and Nature
needed digesting. What a huge amount of misery there was
in the mortal realm! So much of it appeared ultimately
unnecessary, yet even the Incarnations seemed largely
helpless to ameliorate it.

You know, I thought it would be fun, meeting Incarna-
tions and all. Vita thought. But each time, I get another
glimpse of the awful stuff they have to deal with, and I
wonder how they stand it.

"It isn't always that bad," Jolie said, in charge of the
body for the evening. "They do have their pleasures too.
But with their enormous power comes enormous responsi-
bility, and they all feel it. Every so often one gets too tired
and retires, and then a new one has to be broken in. We saw
how it was with an Aspect of Fate—but there, at least, there
are always two experienced Aspects to help. It is worse with
the others."

It must be! the girl agreed. To have all that re-
sponsibility, and to know so little at first—I think I'm glad
I'm mortal! At least I'm the only one I can mess up.

287




288

Piers Anthony

Even our effort to deflect Ilka from getting pregnant
almost got her killed, Orlene agreed. / can appreciate better
than ever why Incarnations don't like to interfere in mortal
affairs. There are so many variables, so many ways for
something well-intended to go wrong. Even God must get

tired!

"Well, it will be Hell tomorrow," Jolie reminded them

cheerfully.

They let Vita peer out a turret window for a while,
watching the cavorting flame figures on the moat. Gee, I
wish I was doing that with Roque right now, she thought.

"What you call a hot time," Jolie said, smiling. But she
understood; she wanted to be with Satan similarly, but knew
this was not the occasion.

They slept, letting that bit of unconsciousness put some
space between the horror of the recent events and their next
challenge.

In the morning they made their way to the Hellevator
and headed down, this time all the way to the basement
stop. The mock flames of it loomed higher and fiercer as
they descended past the mortal realm, until at last they came
to a stop in what appeared to be a phenomenal bed of
blazing coals. It was as if their precarious chamber were
being flame roasted.

Jolie opened the door. "I will get us in, then Orlene will
take over, as it remains her mission," she reminded them.

/ never thought I'd get to go to Hell before I died! Vita

thought brightly.

The door opened and Jolie started to step out. But a
demon stopped her. It was huge and masculine, with hooves
and horns, and its trident had sharp points. "Halt!" he
barked gruffly. "Mortals can't come here!"

"I am a ghost," Jolie explained. "I am not evil, so
can't come here in my natural state, but it is possible in a
mortal host. We have come to see Satan."

"No mortals here!" the demon insisted. "Go back
where you came from."

AND ETERNITY         289

"But I just explained—"

"I have my orders. Go!" The trident moved menac-
ingly.

Tell him to sit down hard on his pitchfork! Vita thought.
Endwise!

Jolie considered whether to identify herself specifically.
As Satan's consort, she was permitted in Hell. But this
wasn't her mission, and she did not want to misrepresent it.
Orlene had to be allowed to do it on her own, to the extent
possible.

She stepped back into the Hellevator. "There is another
way," she murmured.

"No way!" the guardian demon cried as the door
closed. "First you die—then you come here!"

Go have a hotfoot! Vita thought back at him.

They trundled back up to Purgatory. "We shall have to
enlist the aid of Gaea," Jolie explained. "But I think she
won't mind giving it."

Gaea can help us get to Hell? Vita thought, surprised.

"She knows someone who can."

They exited at Purgatory and hurried to Gaea's Tree-
house. Jolie explained how they had been balked by an
ignorant demon. "I didn't want to identify myself, because
this is Oriene's business. But I thought that ifNatasha were
willing to help—"

Who is she? Vita asked.

Gaea smiled. She fetched a small harp. She went
outside and sat on the soft turf, setting the harp between her
lifted knees. Her fingers caressed the strings, touching
without playing. Then, facing the cloudbank horizon, she
began to play.

The sound of it was exquisite. Jolie had heard this many
times before, but was always entranced anew. She was
Satan's first wife, and Gaea was his second; there had never
been any competition between them, but had there been,
Gaea's magic with music would have been decisive. Every
note was perfect, and the theme was transcendent.

Then Gaea sang. The whole region seemed to come

290 Piers Anthony

alive, resonating to the sound of her voice. The distant
clouds turned color, passing through the spectrum of the
rainbow. Dawn seemed to come, and sunset, and all
between. No earthly voice could match this; it was the
melody of the Incarnation, a fragment of what was called
the Llano.

Both Orlene and Vita were rapt. There had been no hint
of this potential before. Gaea had seemed like an ordinary
woman in command of potent magic. Now, through Or-
lene's own magic, Jolie saw Gaea glow. More than that; her
glow extended out into the environment—as far, in fact, as
her music did.

After a brief passage, Gaea paused. All Purgatory
seemed to wait with bated breath.

Then mere came an answering song. It was a man's
voice, without accompaniment, but so vibrant and feeling
that all the world seemed to be the accompaniment. A few
notes only, a few words, and then silence.

Gaea sang again, and accompanied herself on the harp.
Again the region responded, joining her evocation. Then
she paused a second time.

The male response came, closer now, stronger. It had
seemed that in all the universe there could be no equal to
Gaea's voice, but now it was clear that there was an equal
in this hidden man.

After a momentary pause, Gaea sang a third time—and
the man joined her. They made a harmony so beautiful that
there was nothing for the listeners to do but be transported
by it. Th& counterpoint was perfect.

Now the man came into view, walking swiftly toward the
Treehouse. He was young and handsome, and he sang as he
walked, still keeping time with Gaea. He wore ordinary
slacks and shirt and shoes; were he not singing, he would
have seemed to be just another man. Obviously he was not.

Jolie knew him, of course, but she kept her thought
quiet. Let Orlene and Vita have this experience for them-
selves!

AND ETERNITT         291

The man came to stand before Gaea. Their song
climaxed and abruptly ended.

The plain before the Treehouse had been blank. Now it
was covered with flowering trees, and a crystal stream
wound through it. Warblers perched in the trees, listening.

Gaea set aside her little harp and stood. She had been
middle-aged, but now she was in her lovely young state and
her housecoat had become a summer dress which caressed
her contours. Bright daisies formed a diadem in her hair.
She was as lovely as a summer creature could be.

She stepped into the man and kissed him. They made a
perfect couple, and they certainly seemed to be in love.
Both Orlene and Vita were astounded.

/ thought she was married to— Orlene thought.

Who the hell is this guy? Vita thought.

Now Jolie spoke. "Girls, meet Natasha, the handsomest
man of the realm," she said as the couple broke from their
close embrace.

Natasha's a MAN? Vita thought.

The man turned from Gaea. "Ah, Jolie," he said.
"Come to me."

Jolie did. She stepped into his embrace exactly as Gaea
had, and kissed him as ardently.

Holy refuse! Vita thought. Orlene, stunned, thought
nothing.

"And Natasha," Jolie said as the kiss ended, "meet my
present host. Vita, and Orlene, Gaea's daughter. I am
turning the body over to her."

Orlene, suddenly thrust into control, stood in Natasha's
loosening embrace. "How glad I am to meet you, Orlene,"
he said. "You are the daughter of one of the women I love."

"But Gaea's married!" Orlene exclaimed.

Natasha glanced at Gaea, smiling. "Oh, is she? So am
I. Why should Mars be the only one with two lovely
women?"

Orlene pulled herself away, actually spluttering. "I
don't know who you are, but—"

292                                                                AND ETERNITY Piers Anthony

293

"He is here to guide you to Hell," Gaea said. "I
believe he knows a secret access."

Orlene realized that there was some kind of joke going
on. "He's a damned soul?"

"Close enough," Natasha said. "Come with me; I
believe we can get in unobserved, if we move quickly."

"But—"

Go with him, Jolie thought.

Why should she go with this handsome freak? Vita
demanded. He's two-timing his wife; how can we trust him?

He is the world's greatest liar, Jolie agreed. But we can
trust him.

Orlene, disgruntled, knowing that she wasn't quite
catching something obvious, shrugged. "I will go with you,
Natasha. But I would like an explanation."

Natasha put his hand on her elbow. "You shall surely
have it. Tell me about yourself; I want very much to
know."

Tell him, Jolie thought.

Bemused, Orlene started in. "I am Gaea's natural.
daughter, given up as a baby for adoption. I married a
ghost—"

She broke off, for they were sinking through the ground.
The layers of cloud were passing like the vapors they were.

"Continue," he said.

"And had a baby for him, but my baby died, and I
killed myself. Now I am trying to recover him from Nox,
and I need Satan's help."

"Nox? The Incarnation of Night?"

"Yes. She has my son. She set me a list of things I must
get from each major Incarnation, and from Satan I need a
curse. Only when the list is complete can I recover my baby
and cure him of his malady of the soul."

The cloud dissipated. They stood in a stony cell. Ahead
was a curving passage, lighted by guttering and smoky
torches. "Follow this passage," Natasha said. "It will lead
you to Satan's suite. I will conduct you back from this spot
when you are finished with him."

"I have to walk alone through Hell?" Orlene asked,
appalled.

"This is a privileged passage. No demon will molest
you as long as you remain in it. Be sure you do not leave it,
however." He urged her forward, letting go her elbow.

Orlene took a step, then turned. "I really don't—"

But Natasha was gone.

It's alt right, Jolie said. What he said is true: this is a
passage only special guests may use. We are quite safe
here, though it passes through the center of Hell to reach
Satan's suite. We may pause and look at anything along the
way, as long as we do not go astray.

Orlene started walking. There were windows along the
sides, opening into assorted chambers. In each chamber was
some activity, but the nature of it wasn't clear at a casual
glance.

Orlene paused at one, in which a man sat, holding a
wound in his chest. Blood was oozing, and he seemed to be
in extreme pain. "Is he alive?" she asked, horrified. "I
thought there were only damned souls here!"

The man heard her. "I am a damned soul," he gasped.
"I am suifering what seems like eternal agony."

"What did you do to deserve this?" she asked, morbidly
interested.

"I drag-raced a motorcycle." He seemed to be able to
speak well enough, if haltingly, despite the wound.

"What?"

"I was in a pickup truck, on the nonmagic level of the
highway. This motorcycle challenged me, so naturally I
gunned my motor. I won—but I wasn't looking where I was
going. I caromed off a slow car and vaulted into the
opposite lane at high speed. I crashed head-on into a school
bus, killing twenty-seven people. I died myself—and woke
at the entrance to Hell. That was twenty years ago, and I
still have a thousand years or so to work off."

"But that looks like a bullet wound!" Orlene said.
"How could that happen in a highway crash?"

"It didn't. I was never shot."




294

Piers Anthony                                    AND ETERNITY

295

"But—"

He made an agonized smile. "This isn't my injury I'm
suffering. Nor is it that of any of the passengers who died in
the crash. It is that of a dog."

"A dog!"

"You see, most of those passengers killed in the wreck
were young—schoolchildren, in fact. They did not have a
lot of sin on their souls, but they did have some. They
would have been detained in Purgatory for a while, or
somewhere, until they had absolved their sins and were
ready for Heaven. But they weren't supposed to be dead
yet. Probably they would have absolved those sins in life,
before dying naturally at some later date. That's where I

come in."

"Because you denied them that chance!" Orlene said,

catching on.

"Right. I must endure their punishments, because they
might not have had them on their records if I hadn't caused
them to die early. It will take me centuries to catch up on all
those sins of all those people, but it's worth it, because at
least I am repaying some measure of what I took from
them."

"But how does a dog—"

"One of them was a boy who was playing with a gun
and shot his neighbor's dog. To cover up, he dragged the
dog into a vacant lot and buried it. He was never caught; the
neighbor assumed the dog had run away."

Orlene looked more closely at the man. "I see you are
bleeding from the wound—but should that be over soon?
How long did that dog take to die?"

"It wasn't a clean wound," the man said. "The dog
didn't die from it."

"Didn't die! But you said the boy buried it!"

"Yes. The dog suffocated to death underground. I don't
look forward to that part of it."

Orlene was appalled, despite the seeming justice of the
punishment. "At least it will be over soon."

"In a few hours, yes," he gasped. "But, of course,
that's only this replay."

"Replay?"

' 'I have to do it again, and again, until I have completely
repented the act. That might have taken a hundred times, for
that boy."

"But you didn't even do it! How can you truly repent
what you never did?"

"I agree it is a problem," the man said. "I suppose

that's why I haven't yet gotten beyond the first case."
"The first case? The first one killed in that accident?"
"The first significant sin of the first one killed," the

man agreed.

"How—How many repetitions have there been?"
"So far? I don't know. I lost count at ten thousand."
"Ten thousand!"

"Several years ago, I think. But, of course, I'm not
very good at keeping time, here in this featureless cell. You
are the first visitor I have had."

Orlene remained appalled at the thing he had done. She
had no sympathy at all for those who took the lives of
children, because she knew exactly what it felt like to lose
a child. But this was ridiculous! The man would never
succeed in expiating the sins of his victims, let alone his
own. He was suffering pointlessly.

Now he was turning color, his gasping worse. He was
going into the suffocation stage. "Is there anything I can do
for you?" Orlene asked, feeling somewhat helpless and
foolish, but compelled by her nature.

He wrenched a clenched eye open. "Maybe if you could
ask Satan to let me get on to the next Atonement. -. ." Then
he went into a horrible shuddering, and she quickly moved
on, unable to watch further.

God Almighty! Vita thought. This sure as hell is Hell!
It is a typical case, Jolie thought. There are millions of

them here. We can stop and interview any others we wish

to.




296 Piers Anthony AND ETEKNITT 297

But Orlene faced straight forward, refusing to look left
or right. She had seen more than enough of Hell.

It was a long passage, however, and she could not avoid
hearing the piteous groans and seeing peripherally the
struggles of those in unnatural agony. Truly, this was Hell.

At last she reached the end of it. There was a door, with
a neat placard: SATAN. She knocked.

"Enter," a familiar voice called, and the door went up
in flame. Beyond was a very attractive suite, with pleasant
couches and pictures of green meadows on the wall.

She stepped in. A man came forward to greet her—or
rather a demon came, with a grotesque face, horns, tail, and
clothing formed of dancing flames.

Brother! Jolie thought, amused.

Alerted by this, Orlene looked more closely. "That's a
mask!" she exclaimed. "And a costume!"

Satan shrugged. His tail fell off and the flames faded
into a conventional flame-colored suit. He raised a hand to
lift away the mask.

"Natasha!" Orlene cried, astonished.

"Which is 'Ah Satan' spelled backwards," he agreed.
"You may also call Me Parry, after My mortal name, or

Father, as you please."

"What silly joke is this?" she demanded, anger infusing

her surprise.

Listen to him, Jolie thought firmly.

"I am Satan," he said. "I have many alternate guises.
I wooed and won Jolie when I wasJ'any, and lost her when
she died, and again when I was corrupted by the demoness
Lilah—"

"Who?"

"You know her as Lila, Mars' concubine. She left Me
for him. I was not pleased at the time, but it is true I had
neglected her, and in any event I need no demoness now. In
the present age I assumed the guise of Natasha, and wooed
and won Orb before telling her I was Satan. She married Me
nonetheless, as Gaea, but for a complicated reason we never

consummated the marriage. So My ancient concubine now
sleeps with your natural father, and I am your stepfather—
the husband of your natural mother. This is why I asked
Jolie to watch over you and to be your guardian and friend.
It was not appropriate for Me to do it myself."

All true, Jolie thought. / am with Gaea, but it was Satan
who sent me to you.

"I am—the stepdaughter of Satan," Orlene said,
stunned. Yet she realized that she had known it, on a buried
level; the intertwined relationships had been coming clear,
following her death.

"And I love you as Jolie does," he continued. "As we
would love the child we never had. I do not expect or
require that this love be returned; in no other respect are you
any creature of Mine. But I would do anything for you that
a father would." He squinted at her. "But why don't you
assume your natural form?" As he spoke, her body
changed, assuming the aspect of her living state, rather than
Vita's.

"I—I come to ask a favor," Orlene said.

"So I understand. Ask."

"I need a curse, to save my baby. To put the fear of evil
in him, which fear he does not yet have."

Satan shook his head. "My blessing you could readily
have, for it is worthless. But a curse—this is no minor
thing. I cannot give you that; you would have to earn it."

"I will try." How well she knew that Incarnations did
not lightly grant their favors!

"You see, by such a curse I would actually be doing the
work of Mine Ancient Adversary, God. I would be causing
a soul which would otherwise come to Me to go instead to
Him. I would have to take equivalent value."

"If—If I could save my baby's soul, at the cost of mine,
I would do that."

"No. Your soul is far too good for My realm! Besides,
neither Jolie nor Orb would forgive me that. Ask something
simpler, and I will grant it freely."




298               Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

299

Orlene hesitated. "There is something—I know it is not
my business, but—"

"Let Me be the arbiter of our business! Speak!"
"There is a man being tortured, in a chamber along the
passage through which I came. He—I know he deserves
punishment. But what he is suffering is pointless. He is in
a closed loop, suffering for another person's sin, which he
can never ameliorate. If he could just be nudged into the
next Atonement—"

"You refer to the idiot who killed twenty-seven people
and himself in a highway crash?"

"That one, yes. He doesn't ask for mercy, only for—"
"I agree. What he is suffering is pointless. The same
may be said of many thousands of murderers who must
suffer in lieu of their victims. But this is a thing I lack the
authority to grant."

"But if you are the Master of Hell—"
"I am the Master of Hell. But not of the underlying
definitions. The matter of Good and Evil can only be
decided by a joint committee of God and Satan, and there
has been no communication between We Two for centuries.
I feel the definitions are long overdue for updating, if only
to eliminate glitches such as this, but I cannot make that
decision unilaterally. Only if God agrees may we work on
this."

"But why doesn't God agree?" she asked plaintively.
Satan grimaced. "I fear you will just have to ask Him.
He will not speak to Me."

"As it happens, I must go to Him next. Certainly I shall
ask!"

"Lotsa luck," Satan murmured.
"And the curse—how may I earn that?"
Satan paced the floor, considering. "It occurs to Me
there may be a way around that. You may not need My
curse at all, or any of the other favors from Incarnations. I
believe I can get Nox to release your baby, cured, now."
Ouch! Jolie thought to herself. He's Tempting her!

But Vita picked it up. What do you mean? Is he going
to renege? They were communicating to each other, not to
Orlene, whose attention was externally directed.

Satan is never that simple. Oh, I must not interfere, but
I fear for her!

Well, then, I'll warn her!

No, you must not! She must endure it alone, or it doesn't
count.

Orlene, meanwhile, hardly dared believe. "You can do
this? How?"

"Anticipating your request, I availed Myself of the time
you took walking the passage to visit the Incarnation of
Night. She agreed to allow Me to try it my way."

"My baby!" Orlene breathed, her eyes shining. "Oh,
how can this be?"

"You need do nothing arduous. A simple agreement on
your part will suffice."

"An agreement?"

Now comes the kicker, Jolie thought. He is so smooth,
I hate it when he's doing such business. I never should have
let her come here!

"You are staying with the mortal Senator, Luna, are
you not? You are friendly with her?"

"Yes. I am her niece, approximately. She has been
most kind."

"She is to be engaged in a certain procedural matter
which may be awkward for Me. If you would simply ask
her to step aside—"

"I can't interfere in her political business!" Orlene
protested.

Satan smiled warmly. "Please, do not misunderstand. I
do not ask you to interfere, only to ask her to consider doing
this small favor for you, so that you may help your baby, in
accordance with My agreement with Nox. Surely Luna has
no onus against your baby?"

/ don't see what's so bad about that. Vita thought.
Considering what she has to gain.




300

Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 301

Just wait, Jolie thought grimly. You never encountered
as smooth-talking a rascal as Satan!

I thought you loved him!

I do. But I also know him.

Orlene, almost overwhelmed by the offer, nevertheless
didn't trust it. "Of course not! But—"

"Just how serious is your interest in helping your baby?
I do not ask you to succeed in making Luna step aside, only
to make the request, which she may decline if she chooses.
For this I am prepared to arrange for the return of your baby
to you. You need have no fear of this aspect; you will have
your baby immediately, and your arduous quest will be

over."

Orlene, increasingly distressed, found herself in tears.

"Oh, Satan, for the sake of that love you profess for me, at
least tell me the truth! I know this can be no simple matter,
and I cannot decide on the basis of ignorance!"

Satan frowned. "Fair enough. I sought only to spare
you details that might have distressed you. The whole truth
is this: there is a critical issue coming up among the mortals,
and Luna is to cast the key vote, deciding it. I will win by
default if she does not vote."

"But what can this be?"

"It is the most important issue of our time. It will in
effect decide the matter of which Incarnation shall wield the
ultimate power. As you know, this is what I covet; for
centuries My aspiration has been balked, but now at last it

shall be decided."

"But how can Luna have any bearing on the power of

Incarnations?"

"I see you do not yet understand. Very well, I shall be

unconscionably direct. A number of folk have come to the
conclusion that one of our number is not performing His
Office as He should. There will therefore be a vote to decide
whether that Office should be declared vacant, so that a
replacement Incarnation may be elevated to do the job. The
importance of this matter to mortals is such that the deciding

vote is theirs. If they, by the unanimous tally of their
representatives, agree that the Office is vacant, then the
remaining Incarnations, by unanimous agreement, may put
a new person in that Office. It is of course to My interest to
see that this does not occur."

"They want to replace you?" Orlene asked, amazed.

Satan laughed. "Me? Of course not! I have been
arguably the most active and effective of the current
Incarnations! No, it is the other in question: the Incarnation
of Good."

Orlene stared at him, unable to speak.

Did I hear right? Vita thought.

You did, Jolie replied. This is amazing! I knew, but had
somehow forgotten. Now it comes back. They want to
replace God!

"You see. God has simply not been responsive re-
cently," Satan continued. "Since we anticipate a formida-
ble crisis—World War Three, to be specific, but there are
also matters of overpopulation, exhaustion of mortal re-
sources, global famine and disease and the like—we fear
that humanity will be extinguished, and the world with it, in
a few years, if action is not taken. Much of that action can
be taken only with the acquiescence of all the Incarnations.
So there is indeed a crisis."

Orlene found her voice. "How can you claim that God
is—is not—"

"My dear, I am on the other side. I support the present
God and want Him to remain in Office."

"But you are His antithesis! You oppose Him in all
things!"

"Not exactly. I am competitive with Him. I rival Him
for power. I wish to wrest dominance from Him."

"But you just said—"

"My dear, you are slow to appreciate the nuance. I
agree with the other Incarnations that God is not doing His
job. That has been My experience over the centuries. But I
do not want Him replaced. I do not want His Office declared




302 Piers Anthony

vacant. I have activated My minions among the mortals to
oppose this declaration, and the decision in one leading
nation is very close. In fact if Luna does not vote, it will be
a tie, which will allow the prior position to stand, and
therefore represent a defeat of the resolution, and God will
not be replaced. So you can see that what I ask of you is not
contrary to your belief or preference. I support the status
quo, as do you."

"But if there is to be ruin—"

"Ah yes, we must not forget that. Action certainly must
be taken. A new God would surely take it, and perhaps
succeed in averting disaster. But if there is no new God, and
the present inaction continues, the remaining Incarnations
will have in the end to turn to the most effective remaining
prospect. That, of course, is the Incarnation of Evil."

"You—You support God—because you think this will
bring you ultimate power?"

"Now at last you have it. My dear. That is the essence
of My motive. Certainly I will act to avert the crisis; the
mortal realm will survive. But the power will be Mine."

"I just can't believe—God cannot be so—"

"And if you will merely express that same support to
Luna, and encourage her to sit out that key vote, I will call
Nox and she will return your baby to you now. I think this
is a generous offer.''

Oriene stood still, trying to come to terms with this.
Satan urging her to support God—and offering what
amounted to a handsome bribe to that end! Her entire quest
could be completed this moment, merely by agreeing.

"I think," she said at last, "that you know more of this
than I do. If you believe that my plea to Luna will be
effective, then it may be. If you believe that this would give
you ultimate power, then it must be. Therefore I must not
do this. I must trust in Luna's judgment, trust in her to do
what is right, even though it runs contrary to my instincts."

"Even though it costs you your baby?" Satan asked
softly.

AND ETERNITY

303

Oriene squeezed her eyes closed, trying to dam back her
tears. "How can I weigh my baby—against the welfare of
the world? I do want my baby, but not at such a price. I
must do what I believe is right, even though it pains me,
even though I am uncertain what is right."

"Are you sure?" Satan looked grim.

"No, I am the least certain ghost in the world! But I
think this is the way it must be."

"Then it shall be Nox's way," Satan murmured.
"Her way?"

"We made a deal, she and I. She would support My
way, by yielding the baby, if I could make it work. I would
support her way, if I failed. I have failed to Tempt you, so
must honor the bargain I made."

"But what is that bargain?"

"If the Office of Good is declared vacant, there will be
a nomination and voting by the remaining major Incarna-
tions. Nox can neither nominate nor vote in that, because
she is not of the forces of Day. But now she can act through
Me. I will support her candidate."

"Who—"

Satan shook his head. "Nox is excellent at secrets. I
must keep hers, until the time, lest the others marshal
against it. No other is privileged to know her will."

"Her will has made endless mischief for me!" Oriene
flared.

"So it seems. It may be that you would prefer to have
the deal I proffered, instead of the alternative." He paused,
but Oriene did not change her tormented mind. "But your
options are not exhausted. What I proffered was a deal to
shortcut your quest to My profit. You may still earn My

curse, if you choose, and try to save your baby as you have
planned."

"Oh," Oriene said, nonplussed. "I had forgotten, or
thought you would no longer honor that."

"I honor every deal I make," Satan said. "Do Me My
service, and I will guarantee your curse."

304 Piers Anthony

"Then I will do your service," she said. "What is it?"

"There is a new client who is uncooperative, as evil
souls tend to be. I wish you to obtain his cooperation."

"But I know nothing of damned souls!" she protested.

"I believe you do know this one. His name is Kane."

Good God! Vita thought.

"Please refrain from using such language here. Vita,"
Satan said. "You must be aware it is out of place."

"We—We did kill him?" Oriene asked, disturbed

anew.

"Technically, he killed himself. You were not truly at
fault, and very little sin attaches to any of the four of you
who were involved. He did, after all, initiate the sequence,
and it was your right to defend the host. I will say that I
regard your method as ingenious, however; seldom is a
person killed by a story."

"I suppose we could try," Oriene said. "He can't kill
us here, can he? I mean. Vita's body?"

"You will remain in the privileged passage, where no
harm can come to you. Do not leave it, for a mortal host
may not enter Hell proper. You will only talk to him, and
persuade him to cooperate."

"What do you want from him?"

"The names of all the women he killed. There are, I
believe, a fair number."

"You do not know them?"

"Oriene, Hell receives many thousands of souls every
day! We process them in as well as we can, but we cannot
pay close attention to all the details. In any event, the
majority, of the women probably did not come to Hell, so we
cannot interrogate them. The information must come from
the ones we do have: the murderers."

"But what good can that information do? The girls arc
already dead, and the murderer is already suffering!"

"But not as appropriately as he should be. Each damned
soul should suffer the Atonements of his victims, according
to the ancient convention. I cannot set these up until I have

AND ETERNITY         305

the identities of the women. With those, I can subpoena the
records from Purgatory, and proper Atonement can begin."

"That never gets past the first one?" she asked sharply.

"That is not always the case. Sometimes they make it
through a number before entering a closed loop."

"If I had any say in the matter, I'd get that fixed!" she
cried. "I agree that they ought to do penance, but this only
leads to bureaucratic gridlock! Nobody benefits!"

"Agreed. At such time as I have the final say, I shall
make that little reform."

She sighed. "Show me the man. I'll do what little I
can."

"Gladly. He is in the chamber nearest to this one, along
the privileged passage. If you succeed in making him coop-
erate, I will know it, and I will reserve My curse for your use
when the time comes. You may proceed directly down the
passage to the other chamber, where you will be bome back
to Purgatory. You will not have to face Me again."

She looked at him, uncertain of his slant. Then she
turned and exited.

The chamber was right there—and within it was Kane,
still in his clothing, lying on his stomach, blood flowing
from his groin. Evidently he had bled to death, but here
there was no relief of unconsciousness, and he had to suffer
consciously.

You know, Jolie told the story. Vita reminded them.
Should she take over for this?

"No, it is my favorl am seeking," Oriene said. "I must
do it. But I confess to having little notion how."

The man heard her. His head lifted. He grimaced.
"Who are you? Another bad woman, come to torment
me?"

"I think you are already in sufficient torment," Oriene
said. "But it is true that I am associated with one you
thought to make your victim. Do you remember the last
one?"

"The black bitch? How could I forget! Look what she

306 Piers Anthony

did to me!" He squinted at her. "But you aren't that one.
I don't remember you."

"I was with her, in spirit, with two others. We told you
the story ofLorelie. We were the ones who orchestrated your
demise. The living host-girl could not haye done it alone."

"For sure!" he agreed, wincing as his exclamation
triggered more pain from the knife embedded in his flesh.
"I killed a dozen before her, and none ever came close to
getting away, let alone killing me."

"It was time to stop you," Orlene said. The man
bothered her, and his condition; she knew he deserved it,
but she hated seeing the pain.

"Maybe. Now take off; I don't need any more whores to
laugh at me. I'm sorry I didn't get rid of all of you."

"I am here to ask you to cooperate with Satan. He needs
the names of the women you killed."

Kane laughed, wincing as he did so. "Go ram this knife
up yourself, you damned slut! I know what happens when
Satan gets those names! Think I want to suffer for the
whores? I'd rather leave this knife in me!" But after a
pained pause, he qualified that. "Gak, it hurts, though!"

"Gak?"

"We can't say the G word here; didn't you know? Now
get out; I won't give you that last laugh."

"But you can't progress, you can't be absolved of your
sins, if you don't do this," Orlene argued. "You will be
locked at this initial stage, forever suffering the knife.
Surely you can't want that!"

"I'm stuck—ha-ha—with it!" he gasped. "It's better
than giving those bitches the satisfaction. Let them work out
their own sins; Gak knows they deserve to!"

He was certainly recalcitrant. Orlene did not know what
else to say.

What about Laurie? Jolie thought. She's the one woman
he worships. If she asked him—

Say, yeah.' Vita agreed. Do you think she could be down
here too? I mean, she must've whored just to survive, and
she would've come back/or him if she'd lived, so—

AND ETERNITT         307

"Let's ask," Orlene said. She returned to Satan's door
and knocked.

Again the door went up in flame. Satan stood within.
"You have completed your assignment already?"

"I may be making progress. I need to know whether a
certain woman is here in Hell."

Satan snapped his fingers. Immediately Ozymandias
stood beside him. "Her name?" Satan asked.

"Laurel. I don't know her last name."

Ozymandias frowned. "That narrows it to about half a
million. We could line them up for your inspection."

Describe her from his memory, Jolie thought. She made
a mental picture of the madonna figure she had seen in
Kane's mind.

"She is pretty—beautiful, really, even at age fifteen,"
Orlene said. "Perhaps not so when she died. Hair waist-
length, dark, brown verging on black, figure slender, not
pronounced. Eyes brown. She may have had to go into
prostitution to survive when she ran away from home."

"About four thousand of that name answer that descrip-
tion," Ozymandias said, checking a notepad which ap-
peared in his hand.

"She ran away about thirty years ago."
He flipped a page. "Three hundred."
"She has a brother named Kane."
"Twelve."

"Who is five years younger than she."
"Two."

"If I could interview those two—"

"One moment." Ozymandias disappeared.

"Good man," Satan said. "I bless, if you will pardon

the expression, the day I rescued him from anonymity.

Laurel is the client's older sister?"

"Yes. I think she will have influence on him, if we can
put them together."

"That would be irregular."

Orlene repressed a smile. "Just how serious is your
interest in the client's cooperation, Satan?"

308

Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 309

He almost smiled in return. "No doubt a deal can be

made."

Jolie knew that Satan was pleased, but she wasn't sure
why. Normally he did not appreciate backtalk from the
denizens of Hell. Of course this was his stepdaughter; he
liked seeing her take hold. But Jolie wasn't sure that was all

of it.

Ozymandias reappeared. Behind him stood two young
women. Both were pretty, but both had had hard use.
Neither quite fitted Kane's mental picture.

But Orlene didn't give up. ' 'Which one of you promised
to return for your ten-year-old brother?"

"What's it to you?" the left one asked.

"He is here."

She put her hands to her face. "Oh, the poor boy! I was
sure he was bound for H—" she choked.

"Heaven," Satan said. "The damned cannot say that

word."

"She is the one," Orlene said. "I must talk to her, and
then have her talk to him. What can I offer her for her

cooperation?"

"One minute per hour, with him," Satan said. "If she

is instrumental in making him cooperate."
Get a load of his generosity! Vita thought.
Orlene decided not to argue. "May I talk to her alone?"
"One minute," Satan said. He and Ozymandias and the
other Laurel disappeared, leaving only Orlene and the
woman in the office.

"We have only one minute," Orlene said. "Laurel,
your brother loves you, and I think will do anything you ask
of him. You are his madonna figure, his perfect woman. He
is a mass murderer who was knifed to death at age forty, but
he loves you. His Atonement can proceed faster if he
cooperates. You can spend one minute of each hour with
him if you get him to do that. Will you?"

"No!" Laurel cried. "He mustn't know how far I sank!
Let him keep his good image of me!"

"If you don't tell him about your life, I won't. Just tell
him to cooperate. Then, every hour, you can console him.
I don't think he'll ever ask how you died, or how you came
to be here. All he will care is that you have returned for
him, even here in Hell. For one minute each hour he won't
suffer so much. You can keep your promise."

"My promise!" she breathed. "My one good hope—"

Satan reappeared. "Well?"

"I must take her to the client's cell," Orlene said. She
took Laurel by the arm and guided her out the door and down
the hall. "You can enter," she told Laurel. "I cannot. Talk
to him. Get him to cooperate, and the reward is yours."

Laurel saw the suffering man lying on the blood-soaked
bed. Suddenly he assumed the form of a ten-year-old boy,
uninjured. "Oh, Kane!" she cried, running in to him. Now
she, too, was younger, fifteen and lovely.

"Laurel! You came!" he cried.

They embraced. "I said I would! But I cannot stay! You
know this is Hell, Kane; you must do what they want, or
you will never get out of it!"

"If you ask me—"

"We can be together—one minute each hour!"

"Then I will do it." His capitulation was that simple,
once his deepest dream had been tapped. Orlene's effort of
understanding and compassion had accomplished what
Hell's torture had not.

Ozymandias appeared in the cell. "The names."

Kane, still held by his loving sister, started giving the
names. Ozymandias noted them on a scroll with deft strikes
of a quill.

Then he gestured. Laurel vanished, and Kane was back
as an adult, with the knife. "She will return next hour,"
Ozymandias said, and vanished himself.

Kane gazed at Orlene. "You did this," he said.

"Yes."

He grunted something that almost sounded like
"Thanks."




210

Piers Anthony

I still can't stand him, but I'm glad we did it. Vita
thought. She spoke for them all.

Oriene turned away. She walked down the hall toward
the exit. But when she came to the man she had talked with
before, she paused.

"I asked Satan, but he said he couldn't change the rules.
I am going to visit God next, and I will ask Him."

"I thank you," the man gasped, turning color. He was
going into his suffocation stage.

"No, this isn't fair!" Oriene cried. "Atonement, yes,
but not pointless torture!" She stepped into the chamber.

Halt! Jolie thought in desperation. You can't go there!
It's off the—

But Oriene had already done it. Vita's mortal body
came up against an invisible barrier and stopped, but
Orlene's spirit went on. It was leaving the host, glowing.

What happens now? Vita thought, horrified.

We must pull her back! Jolie responded. She must not be
discorporate in Hell!

They both grabbed at Orlene's spirit. But it stretched,
the bulk of it going on into the cell. They were left holding
the tail of the ghost, while the front reached the man.

Oriene put her faint hand on the man's head. The glow
intensified, surrounding him. Go on to the next! she
thought. Break the chain! You must do it!

The man stopped choking. He sat up, becoming gaunt.
"I'm starving!" he exclaimed.

The joint pull exerted by Jolie and Vita finally prevailed.
Oriene was drawn back into the host.

He's in the next torture! Vita thought, amazed.

"That boy—he stole money from a friend, and so the
friend went hungry," the man said. "I am suffering that
hunger. Oh, thank you, lovely spirit!"

/ didn't know you could do such magic! Jolie thought.

"I can't," Oriene said, dazed. "He must have done it
himself. I only encouraged him."

But Jolie had seen the glow. She knew that it required

AND ETES

more than encouragement. Apps
component as well as a passivt
magic.

Oriene went on, not quite und
of what she had done, at the dir<
not been hauled back, she would
unable to escape despite her evi<

They reached the end of the
about them. They moved upwan




AND ETERNITY         313

- 13

GOOD

They emerged before Gaea's Treehouse. They heard the
voice of the Purgatory News announcer coming from
within; evidently the set was on. "All Purgatory is agog
over the visit of one 'Natasha' to the abode of the Incarna-
tion of Nature. Gaea is, of course, married to the Incarnation
of Evil, and remains nominally faithful to him, though the
marriage was never consummated. For her to entertain

another man ..."

Orlene smiled briefly as she knocked on the door. They
knew who Natasha was, now, and why he had come. There
was no scandal. The Purgatory News, like that of the
mortals, was sensationalist and not too scrupulous about its
implications.

Gaea opened the door. "You succeeded?"
"Yes. But now I must go to Heaven, and not with my
soul alone, because I mean to return. I have no idea how to

get there."

"I think Natasha will have to guide you again," Gaea
said, with a smile similar to Orlene's own.

"I shall be glad to," Natasha said, appearing outside.
"As it happens, I have a friend who knows the way through
chaos."

312

Yeah, that bitch Nox! Vita thought.

"Oh? Perhaps I should come too," Gaea said.

/ keep forgetting they can hear us! Vita thought,
chagrined.

"By all means come along!" Natasha said, extending
one elbow to her and the other to Orlene.

They took the elbows. The region darkened, then turned
gray. They were traveling into the vagueness of the Void.

Then Natasha called to someone beyond. His voice
made the ether ripple magically; the pattern of it could be
seen all around them, curling in strange wave patterns into
diminishing spirals and out to infinity. The effect was weird
and beautiful and hypnotic, both auditory and visual.

It's an aspect of the Llano, Jolie explained. The Llano is
one of the only things that penetrates the Void. Gaea uses it
to control the forces of nature, but she's not adept with
chaos.

There came an answering call. The waves and spirals
changed, assuming a new configuration. The restless tap-
estry of their convolutions became the walls of an austere
chamber.

They faced a kindly, bearded man. "Thank You for
answering, JHVH," Natasha said. "This is Gaea, the
Incarnation of Nature."

"I have admired your work," JHVH said politely.

"And this is Orlene, her daughter. My stepdaughter, in
the mortal host of another person."

"And Jolie too," JHVH remarked, glancing at them.

"Jolie too," Natasha agreed. "I asked Jolie to watch
over Orlene in life, and when Orlene died, she felt respon-
sible, and is helping her accomplish a task set by the
Incarnation of Night."

"Ah, I have known Nox of old."

«Have I been named?» It was Nox, coalescing beside
them. Her vague outline solidified, until she had the form of
a stunningly beautiful woman. But she was in black and
white, while the others were in full color.




314              Piers Anthony

That's weird! Vita thought.

"Nox has my baby," Orlene said. "He has a malady of
the soul, which can be cured only by special things provided
by each of the major Incarnations. I have obtained the
agreements of six, and now must gain the last from God."

"I shall be happy to guide you to Heaven," JHVH said.
"But I am curious about the involvement of the Incarnation
of Night, who is not of your pantheon, any more than I am.
I am not conversant with the politics of such interactions,
but suspect this is rare."

«It is the first time in the current millennium I have done
so,» Nox said.

"I should think you would have a more important
concern than the welfare of a single baby," JHVH said.
"Such as the approaching termination of most mortal
existence."

«I have no power over that. I do have power over the
baby.» As she spoke, the baby appeared in her arms. Nox
opened her robe to expose one breast, and nursed him.

The three sharing the host reacted in different ways.
Orlene felt an exquisite pang to see another woman nursing
her baby, yet noted that the baby was being well cared for.
Nox held him closely, with evident concern and even love,
and Gaw-Two seemed quite comfortable with her. Orlene
remembered how her own mother, here right now, had
given her up; was this the way it felt? She wanted so much
to go and take her baby back! She made an effort and buried
her mixed emotions, lest she embarrass herself by breaking
down in tears. Her thoughts, hitherto unguarded, abruptly
became opaque to Jolie.

How can she nurse when she hasn't given birth? Vita
thought, amazed. She had no awareness of the pang of
separation Orlene felt, but was simply curious about the
technical aspect.

She isn't human, Jolie replied. She can adapt herself to
any form and function she chooses. But Jolie herself was
amazed that Nox, the most aloof of Incarnations, should

AND ETERNITY         315

have chosen to do this, and indeed to be so open about it.
There was no need for the baby to feed in the Afterlife; this
was only to give him comfort. Why should Nox care? Or
was Nox deliberately torturing Orlene? Was she trying to
make Orlene do something foolish, and so forfeit the
recovery of her baby which she had labored so hard to
achieve?

Gaea looked at the Incarnation of Night. "Dreams may
seem to the uninformed to be the stuff of chaos, but it is
only ignorance that makes it seem so. Your realm mirrors
ours, Nox; what is it you see that we do not?"

Nox merely smiled and faded out, still nursing Gaw.

"She is up to something," JHVH remarked. "But let us
attend to the business at hand. I will guide you to Heaven,
Orlene, though I will not enter it with you. Take My hand."

Orlene took his hand. Suddenly chaos was rushing past
them. It was formless, yet seemed to suggest form; efforts
to perceive it were frustrating, yet it was hard to ignore.

Ahead loomed a star. It expanded to a sun, and then to
a globe of light which filled their vision. They came right up
to the fringe, and the brilliance diminished with proximity.
Beyond it lay a shining terrain.

"This is your Heaven," JHVH said. "Pass through the
veil of light, and return to this point when you are finished.
I will await you here."

"Thank you." Orlene floated through the veil.

Who is that guy? Vita asked. How come he knows his
way here when the Incarnations don't?

He is the God of the Hebrews. Jolie replied. Once the
God of all, but his power has declined with the ascent of
newer religions, such as Christianity.

But I thought it was the same God!

In theory, perhaps—but in practice, no. The Christians
have become a different and more aggressive tribe.

Then why does he help us?

He has become tolerant in his age, and I understand
that Satan once did him a favor.

316

AND ETERNITY         317

Piers Anthony

Vita made a thought of laughter. / wonder if Satan was
trying to corrupt JHVH, the same as he does everyone else!
I don't think it worked.

Orlene stood at the edge of Heaven, uncertain where to
proceed. She stood on a white cloudbank, which merged
with others, the landscape resembling a giant mattress. The
inhabitants of Heaven stood around, faintly glowing. They
looked bored.

Orlene approached the nearest. This was an old woman
who looked much the way she must have in life before she
died. "Excuse me—how do I find God?"

"Live better than you did," the woman replied, unin-
terested.

"Oh, I'm not dead, exactly. I mean, I'm just visiting, in
a mortal host. I have to see God."

"Well, God isn't here in Limbo! We are the imperfect
souls, just barely good enough to qualify. We have evil in
us and cannot proceed to the more pleasant aspects of
Heaven until we expunge it."

"How do you do that?"

"I'm not sure, and not very curious."

"Can you tell me some path to follow that perhaps leads
to God?"

The woman shrugged. "Why should I bother?"

/ don't think this biddy's going to make fast progress!
Vita thought.

Perhaps you should use your magic, Jolie suggested.

Orlene brightened. The moment she oriented, the glows
of the souls in Heaven changed. Now some were brighter
than others. But none seemed bright enough.

Why not just yell? Vita thought.

Orlene considered, then tried it. "Please, anybody!"
she called. "I am a visitor here, and I need guidance. Will
anyone help me to go in the direction of God?"

There was no reaction. The souls in Limbo just weren't
interested.

Then a new one appeared. This was a young woman

who looked somewhat worn, but she glowed brightly.
"Hello. I am Rita."

/ like that name! Vita thought. And she's young, like
me!

"I am Orlene. Are you coming in answer to—"

"Did you save a baby?" she asked.

"I lost my baby," Orlene said. "I am trying to recover
him."

"No—a baby in a Dumpster. Newbom."

Orlene gazed at her more closely. "Why, yes! The
Incarnation of Death told me to—but I couldn't—"

"I am his mother."

"Oh! You mean you died, Rita? That's why—"

"Not exactly. I had to work—I had taken all my
vacation time, and I had used a slim-spell to hide my
pregnancy—but I would have lost my job at the restaurant
if they knew. So I brought the baby with me and hid him in
the Dumpster, where nobody would suspect, so I could run
out and tend to him. I knew the collection schedule, see, so
I could move him before they came. But I pushed it too
hard, being back on my feet all day so soon after, and I
hemorrhaged, and they didn't know and I didn't tell, so as
not to lose my job—and, well, I lost my life instead. I was
in Heaven before I knew, and couldn't get back—and what
could I have done as a ghost, anyway? I knew my baby
would die, and oh, how that hurt—"

"Oh, I know, don't I know!" Orlene said, putting her
arms around the young woman as she choked up.

"All I could do was watch. But then you came, and you
took him, and brought him to the hospital, so he lived, after
all, and now he's been adopted by a nice couple, and he's
much better off than I could ever—I mean, even if I had
lived—"

"Yes. I was adopted too. I never knew my natural
parents until after I died."

"So I owe you a debt of thanks I thought I could never
repay! I can't go to the highest levels, because of the sin of




318               Piers Anthony
having the baby out of wedlock, but I can take you most of

the way."

"You didn't marry?" Oriene asked.

"Well, we were going to, you know, but he had to get
through college first—and then when I learned I was—"

"He disappeared," Oriene finished, and Rita nodded
tearfully. "And for that you have sin on your soul."

"Yes. I never had much sin before, but I loved him so

much, I really thought—"

"I think we need new definitions," Oriene muttered.

"I'm glad I saved your baby. I didn't realize that I would

ever meet you."

Rita brightened. "Come, I must show you the way! I'm

so glad to be able to do this!"

They followed the young woman. There were stairs at
some places where the cloud banks intersected, spiraling up
to the higher levels, and they climbed these. "Half way up
was a guardian angel, a forbidding figure with solid,
birdlike wings furled behind. "What is this?" he demanded

gruffly.

"This is Oriene," Rita said. "She has come to see

God."

"Get out of here!" the angel snapped, barring the way.

"But she has important business!"
"I don't care what she claims! She has no clearance for
this ascent. Now vacate, before I lay an Atonement on you

both!" He raised his fist.

Oriene lifted her hand, intercepting his. Her glow

brightened. The angel froze in place.

She's doing it again! Vita thought. / bet she really could

have used that magic in life, instead of just seeing whether

anyone's right for anyone else.

Jolie did not respond. She wasn't sure whether this was
a newly discovered talent or a newly developed one.
Certainly there had been no hint of it before that moment in
Hell. She didn't understand it, so was disquieted by it.
Could Nox have done something else to Oriene, without her

AND ETERNITY         319

knowledge? If so, to what would it lead? Jolie had no
confidence at all in the motives of the Incarnation of Night;

she remembered too well that episode ofOriene's maleness.

They passed the still angel and went on up to the next
level—where they were similarly challenged by an angel
who seemed more like a bureaucratic thug than any spirit of
goodness. Oriene touched him as she had the first, and he
was similarly nullified. In this manner they ascended
several levels. "This is as high as I can go," Rita said.
"We've passed Limbo, and the Moon, and Venus, and the
Sphere of the Sun. This is the Fifth Heaven, which is the
Sphere of Mars, with the idle warrior spirits. I'm not a
warrior, of course; I'm in a different part of the level, for
those who tried to fight discrimination. There are five more
Heavens, and in the Tenth Heaven you'll find God."

"Perhaps you can show me farther," Oriene said.
"Let's see."

They ascended to the Sixth Heaven, where the Righ-
teous Rulers dwelt. The guardian angel on duty tried to bar
them, as the others had, but with no better success. Orlene's
new power triumphed.

In the Ninth Heaven they encountered resistance of
another nature. "Greetings, girls. I am the Angel Gabriel.
I will deal with you."

They gazed at Gabriel. He looked exactly like a man, in
contrast to the guardian angels, who had sported anything
from two to six wings each. That argued for his legitimacy:

he felt no need for affectation.

"I am Oriene, visiting in mortal host. I have come to
talk with God."

"So I understand. You have generated some disruption
here. We do not encourage mortal visits, and we admit to a
certain prejudice against brides of Satan."

"Please let me pass," Oriene said. "I will depart with
my friends as soon as my business with God is done."

"God is distracted at the moment. Perhaps I can settle
your business instead."




320

Piers Anthony

AND ETEKNITT 321

Orlene, growing impatient, sought to bmsh past him,
but Gabriel gently barred her. She tried to use the glow to
immobilize him, but it had no effect.

"Such magic can not affect Seraphim or above,"
Gabriel said. "Now that you have made proof of it, perhaps
you will reconsider my offer."

He's legitimate, Jolie thought. Better talk with him.

"All right," Orlene said, disgruntled.

Gabriel made a gesture as of drawing a curtain around
them. The stairs faded out, and they were in a compact
office. Gabriel sat behind a square desk, checking a scroll.

"I see you have been to six major Incarnations and
obtained commitments from them all," Gabriel remarked.

"Yes. I need only a blessing from God and I can
recover my baby from the Incarnation of Night. Then I can
relax, my mission accomplished."

Gabriel gazed at her with what seemed like more than
ordinary interest. "You expect to retire thereafter to
Heaven, taking no further interest in worldly things?"

Orlene had to smile. "More likely Hell, because of the
disruption I have caused to Incarnations during my quest."

"You do not, then, regard yourself as perfect."

She laughed. "Hardly! I knew when I committed
suicide that I placed my soul in peril, and I have not
improved my balance since."

"Yet I have the impression that you seek to criticize
God, who is by definition perfect."

"Even that!" she agreed ruefully. "In my mind I have
indeed criticized God, and I know that is sinful. But in my
heart I know that I must do what I must do, without heeding
the cost to my own poor soul. I have encountered errors of
application which only God can correct, and I do mean to
bring them to His attention. I have just learned—" She
broke off, fearing that she had no right to continue.

"That the other Incarnations seek to replace God,"
Gabriel finished for her. "Set your mind at ease about that;

this is not your doing. Satan has from time immemorial
coveted the power and glory of the highest office, and once

again sees what he takes to be an opportunity to forward his
suit. I negotiated with him some centuries back, and we
agreed to a challenge involving your grandmother, Niobe,
now an Aspect of the Incarnation of Fate."

"My grandmother!" Orlene exclaimed.

"The challenge was of this nature: I designated the
individual, whose influence could be critical to world
events. If he could not corrupt that person, or her child or
grandchild, in such a way as to enable him to take power,
then he would forever abate his effort. I would say that he
has not succeeded in corrupting Niobe, or her daughter Orb,
who now holds the Office of the Incarnation of Nature. One
generation remains, in which there are two representatives:

Luna and yourself. When you died, your onus abated. Now
only Luna remains. Satan's effort to corrupt her or neutralize
her has been ceaseless, for she is his last chance. The final
showdown is now close, and much attention focuses on it."

Orlene nodded. "I had not known that this was the
result of a deal between you and Satan! He tried to Tempt
me to influence Luna, so that she would sit out the big
vote."

"Of course. The fact that you are here now indicates
that you turned him down."

"Yes. I want my baby more than anything—but not at
the expense of the world! So I must talk to God and obtain
His blessing, and then I can recover my baby without
wronging others."

"I am afraid you will be disappointed."

"I have not come this far only to be balked!" she flared.
"Only let me talk to Him, and I will not bother you again!"

"There is something you must understand about God.
He no longer talks to supplicants."

"I can't accept that. Just let me see Him!" she pleaded.

"I really think you would be better off to let this go.
Your baby seems to be in competent hands."

"I have no idea why Nox got into this!" Orlene said.
"But I can't just let her take my baby with impunity!"

"I agree that it is a curious matter. Ordinarily she has no




322 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 323

interest in the affairs of mortals or Incarnations, other than
their dreams. It seems that she selected your baby by no
coincidence. She evidently has some interest in you."

"I don't care what her interest is! If she thought I
wouldn't do everything I could to recover my baby, she was
mistaken! Now let me talk to God!"

"It is with regret I do this. He is the Tenth Heaven. Do
what you must do." He gestured, and the office disap-
peared.

She faced an enormous pattern of light, roughly globular
in outline. She stared, trying to fathom that grand radiance.
Slowly she discerned a great halo. Framed within it was a
second, brighter halo. Framed within that was a third,
blindingly brilliant halo. Within that was an infinitely
detailed and beautiful face, whose effulgence transcended
all mortal understanding. This was the Face of God.

Oriene fell to her knees and raised her hands in the
position of prayer. "Oh, my Lord God!" she cried. "I have
worshipped You since childhood! I have tried always to do
right by Your definition! Now I come to You, a supplicant,
to beg only for Your blessing for my child. Please, God,
grant me that!"

She waited, but there was no answer. The phenomenal
face of God showed no reaction.

Somewhat out of sorts, she repeated her request. God
still ignored her. It was as if He hadn't heard.

Oriene began to understand what others had hinted. It
was hard to get God's attention.

But she had not come all this way just to be ignored.
"Listen to me, my Lord!" she cried. "Your enemies are
gathering. Satan seeks to displace You. The Incarnations
are making ready to replace You! You must act to stop that!
You must take an interest in the affairs of the world!"

The huge face stared straight ahead. Now she was able
to make out the spherical curves of the three halos. God's
face was reflected there, triply, each surface showing a
different aspect. God was contemplating Himself!

"And the world is going to Hell!" she cried, getting
desperate. "Satan hopes to assume Your power, in the face
of Your inaction. You must stop him, for the sake of all!"

God's narcissistic contemplation continued without in-
terruption.

"And World War Three is coming! In five years all
mortality will be in peril. Only You can act to prevent this,
or someone wielding the power that should be Yours. Don't
leave it to Gabriel, for he will only be displaced by the
Incarnation of Evil! I beg of you. God, give me a sign. I
will give up my baby, if only You will take some interest in
the world before it is too late! Give me a sign that You
understand!"

She waited, her tears flowing. There was no sign.

"I would have preferred to conceal this from you,"
Gabriel said. "You cannot obtain God's blessing, for He
does not respond to any outside input. He is contemplating
His own greatness, to the exclusion of all else."

"How long has this been the case?" Oriene asked,
numbed by the discovery.

"It is hard to say. It came on Him gradually. Perhaps a
thousand years, for this end-stage. I have covered for Him
as well as I could, but it has become increasingly difficult."

"All my prayers—all the prayers of every mortal—He
has heard none of them?"

"If He hears. He doesn't care. No prayer has been
directly granted in the past five hundred years, that I know
of."

"But I know that some have been answered!"

"My own powers are quite limited, but sometimes I
have been able to effect cures or other beneficial occur-
rences."

"You? In lieu of God?"

"Inadequate as that may be," he agreed. "But more
often I have been unable to act, and so the prayers of most
mortals have been unanswered, even the most worthy ones.




324 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 325

I note this with extreme regret. Yet, short of blowing my
Horn, I am helpless. I am the most powerful of angels, but
can never approach the power of the least of Incarnations.
Only God can do what must be done—yet He will not."
"But the world may end, without His intercession!"

"No, I suspect it will merely be damned, as Satan
assumes greater power. This is why it is so important for
Luna to cast her vote. This will prevent Satan from
achieving power by default. Then the Incarnations can
choose another Officeholder, and we shall have an activist
God."

"But you support this God!"

"I have supported Him to the best of my ability
throughout," Gabriel agreed. "But I find I have a greater
loyalty: to the Office itself, rather than to the Officeholder.
I can now serve God best by letting the Office change
hands. That will save the world. This God will never
notice." He made a wan smile. "So, instead of your baby,
you have found truth. But perhaps the next God will grant
your request."

Oriene stared at him, appalled by the realization. It was
now to her interest to facilitate the replacement of God!
Satan had tried to persuade her to support the existing
Officeholder, but she could prevail by doing the opposite.
Never in all her life and death had she dreamed of such a
thing, yet it made sense.

Jolie and Vita were similarly awed by the thought.

"What will happen to you?" Oriene asked, trying to
bring her churning emotions into a semblance of order.

"I will serve whoever holds the Office, if He wishes my
services. Otherwise, I do have another offer."

"Another offer? You mean, some other Incarnation?"

"Satan."

"How can you serve him after serving God?" she
demanded, appalled.

"I am not a mortal, or a spirit," he explained. "I am an
angel. It is my nature to serve one power or another, loyally

until dismissed. My present position is not my first—or, I
think, my last. I will, of course, be sorry to see this tour
end, but few things are eternal."

"But Satan!"

"He is not truly evil. He is the Incarnation of Evil,
which is another matter. He supervises the disposition of
souls on which evil remains, but he himself is good. Did
you know that he saved JHVH's people from a persecution
so severe that virtually none remained in Europe?"

"But there are millions of Jews in Europe!"

"Precisely. But without his intercession, there would
have been almost none—and no Romani, either."

"Gypsies!" Oriene exclaimed. "It was a Gypsy girl
who took care of me when my mother had to leave me, and
who arranged for my adoption by tourists! Now that girl's
father is an aspect of Fate! Do you mean to say that
Satan—"

"It is not generally known today, or even among
Incarnations, but it is true. Satan owed JHVH a favor, and
when the occasion came to repay it, he did so in singular
fashion. In fact, I would deem the current Incarnation of
Evil to be the most effective Officeholder of that line,
because he has not been corrupted by his power.''

Oriene glanced in the direction of the Tenth Heaven.
"As the Incarnation of Good has been corrupted by His
power?"

"So it would seem. The power of an Incarnation is great
indeed, but it is there to be used, not enjoyed. God came to
the Office of Good with excellent credentials. I think
perhaps they were too apt; as it turned out. He had little
concept of mortal frailty. He simply did not understand
human weakness, and in time lost what little interest He had
had in it."

"He tuned out," Oriene said.

"He tuned out. It seems that He lacked sufficient evil in
His being to relate to the evil in others, so could not
properly address it. As a result, the mortal world was left




326

AND ETERNITY         327

Piers Anthony

increasingly to fend for itself, and is now in an unfortunate
state. It grieves me to see this, but I cannot deny it."

"It grieves me too," Orlene said. "I thank you for
explaining things to me. I see that my concern is trivial
compared to yours, and I will leave now."

"We each must follow our own paths," Gabriel said.
"You have been forthright in yours, and I in mine. I do not
regret that they have crossed." He extended his hand.

Surprised, she took it. Then she walked to the stairs.

What a surprise! Vita thought as they descended. God
zonked out on His own Image, and the world going to Hell!

And God to be replaced, Jolie thought. We exist in truly
momentous times!

At the Fifth Heaven, Rita was waiting for them. "Did
you talk to God?" she asked eagerly.

"I talked to God," Orlene agreed. "But He did not
respond."

"Oh. They say that He hasn't taken much of an interest
in recent events. Maybe He's ill."

"Maybe," Orlene agreed.

Mentally ill! Vita thought.

They proceeded on down to First Heaven, and to the
fringe. Now it was clear why the folk here in Limbo—and
in the other Heavens—weren't much interested in anything.
The benign neglect extended from the top to the bottom.

Orlene turned to Rita. "Good-bye," she said. "I am
glad I was able to help your baby, even if I couldn't help
mine. Thank you for putting me on the right track to find
God."

"Oh, you are most welcome! When I saw my baby safe
after all—"

"I understand," Orlene said, concealing the sudden
surge of grief she felt for her own baby. She hugged Rita,
then turned and stepped through the glowing veil.

JHVH was there. "Oh—were you waiting the whole
time?" Orlene asked, surprised. "I thought you would be
back with Gaea and Sa—Natasha!"

"I thought they might prefer to be alone for a time."

In chaos, where none can know, Jolie agreed wistfully.
Always before, she had been along, so that technically
Satan's second marriage had never been consummated,
only his first. But she really could not resent their joy; it did
not exclude her.

Orlene took JHVH's hand and they moved through
chaos. Again the fascinating pseudoimages manifested,
understandably inchoate. This was the raw stuff of the
universe, which was being systematically refined and sep-
arated. Eventually there would be no more chaos; all would
be in order. That almost seemed sad.

Not if World War Three blows everything to smith-
ereens! Vita thought. Then it'll be right back to the start!

"Let us hope it does not come to that. Vita," JHVH
said. "I confess to some alarm at the prospect of all My
work, and that of all other Gods and Incarnations, being so
summarily abolished."

"The Angel Gabriel mentioned you," Orlene said
cautiously.

"Yes, he once was in My employ," JHVH agreed. "He
does good work."

"Is it true that Satan saved the Jews and the Gypsies?"

"It is true, in this framework. But he never speaks of it,
because he has an image to maintain."

"I see." Indeed, she was coming to see much that she
had never suspected. No wonder JHVH was glad to do
Satan a favor! She herself owed Satan far more than she had
dreamed.

Did Gaea know? Then no wonder she loved Satan! Her
best friend in her pre-Incamation days had been a Gypsy—
who would never have existed without Satan's action.

/ hadn't known! Jolie thought. But it's the kind of thing
Parry would do.

You mean Satan? Vita asked.

/ mean the man I love, by whatever name.

They arrived back at the chamber JHVH had fashioned




328 Piers Anthony

in chaos. Gaea and Natasha were within, looking satisfied.
No one commented.

"I suspect I do not need to inquire as to the success of
your mission," Natasha said.

"It was a failure," Oriene replied bluntly. "God would
not respond."

Gaea nodded. "We wanted you to understand why we
feel it necessary to replace Him. All through the cosmos,
pleas as significant as yours are being denied, because God
does not respond. We other Incarnations have done our best
to make up the difference, but we are near our limit now.
We must have a functioning Deity."

"But who could replace Him?" Oriene asked. "Unless
..." She looked at JHVH.

"No, My turn is past," JHVH said. "A Christian will
have to be appointed. I am sure a number of candidates have
been considered."

We know of one, Jolie thought, remembering Roque.

"But few candidates would be acceptable to all,"
Natasha said. "It may be that it would be best to allow the
default—"

"Forget it!" Gaea snapped, elbowing him.

They all laughed. But beneath the banter was a serious
core. When the crisis came, they would be on opposite
sides—with the world at stake.

14

DECISION

They returned to the mortal realm and to Luna's house. Two
more years had passed, and now the crisis of the vote was
upon the world.

Roque explained it, after Vita had had her passionate
fling with him. "All over the world, wherever those who
follow the Christian God hold sway, the vote has been
taken: whether to declare the Office vacant, so that the
remaining Incarnations can name a new Incarnation of
Good. Those who follow other Gods have not participated,
but are watching with interest, because it is the warlike
Christian forces that are generating the pressures leading
toward World War Three. That war would destroy the
non-Christians, too, you see. So the fate of the world does
hang on this decision. It is widely believed that only the
establishment of a new Deity can enable the Incarnations to
alleviate the pressing problems that have arisen in the past
few centuries."

"Then why is there any fuss about it?" Vita asked, for
of course she was in control of her body now. "Why not
just put in a new God and save the world?"

Roque smiled indulgently. "This is reminiscent of the
problem of the Constitutional Convention in America. On

329

330 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITT 331

occasion an effort has been made to convene one, but it has
failed because too many are afraid that the Convention
would not necessarily limit itself to the issue for which it
was convened. Once the genie is out of the bottle—"

"Nobody can put it back! Goteha! But you know, if I
had to choose between the genie and World War Three, I'd
sure take my chances with the genie!"

He stroked her hair, a gesture so natural and loving that
Jolie felt a wash of love for him herself. "Surely you
would, my straight-speaking delight! But there are those
who doubt the inevitability of war, and those who hope to
make some significant profit from it, and, of course, the
forces of Satan are active. An ad hoc coalition has formed
in opposition to this move. Its elements are remarkable:

many leaders of Christian denominations, and those who
support Satan. They prefer the existing order and distrust
any change—and I cannot say that their concern is unjus-
tified."

"Hey, which side are you on?" she demanded.

"The side of sanity, my earthly angel. Consider the
consequence if a nominee of Satan's were to achieve the
Office of the Incarnation of Good. Satan is the Lord of Lies;

he might arrange for a seemingly good person to be
chosen—and thereafter Satan's will would govern."

"But Satan is fighting the change!"

"So he claims. But how can we know what is in his
mind?"

Satan did say something about a deal with Nox, Jolie
thought. Still, he seems to have more to gain by maintaining
the status quo.

Vita relayed that thought, and Roque agreed. "Satan is
almost certain to gain if the vote is against the declaration.
He will naturally go for the certainty, rather than take a
chance. But he surely has a strategy to implement in the
event he loses this vote. I merely point out that a case can
be made: stick with the known situation, make no change,
and let Satan assume greater power. He has no more desire
for World War Three than the others do."

"But you don't really believe that!" Vita said. "Do

you?"

He smiled. "No. I prefer to take my chances with a new
God, arduous though the change may be at first. I am sure
the Incarnations will not allow Satan to deceive them about
any nominee. Still, it is certain to be a very difficult
decision."

"Because Satan won't let any good man in, and the
others won't let any bad man in," Vita said. "But they've
got to agree sometime!"

"Sometime," he agreed.

Luna returned in the evening, looking worn. "It is
indeed going to be close," she said. "The other bodies have
come to a tie; tomorrow the Senate takes its vote, according
to the terms worked out by arduous compromise. It is very
nearly even there too."

"As it was fated to be," Roque said.

"As it was fated to be," she agreed grimly. "All my
research and action has succeeded only in preserving parity;

my vote will be critical. We have known it would come to
this for twenty years, but it is not easier now that it is at
hand."

"At least it will be done."

"My part, perhaps. But I will not be able to rest until I
know there is an activist Deity in Office."

"Your endeavor has been selfless, for twenty years,"
Roque said. "There could not have been a better person to
see it through."

Luna shrugged that off. "You will stay for supper?"

"Why, I was about to leave—" But he saw how tired
she was. "Of course, my old friend. My support is always

yours."

"Thank you." Luna lifted a bright garnet from the
mantel, set it on the table and tapped it. The stone
expanded, becoming irregular. It spread across the table.

It became a banquet for three, the sundry dishes
steaming. "Gee," Vita remarked.

"My father was a Magician," Luna explained with a




332

AND ETERNITY         333

Piers Anthony

smile. "He left me a number of unusual stones. I use them
only for special occasions, as ones of this nature are good
for only a single invocation." She glanced at Roque. "If
you will serve the wine ..."

"With pleasure," he said, lifting a bottle from its cold
support.

"But I'm underage!" Vita protested. "I'd better put
Oriene on!"

"I believe you are now nineteen," Roque said. "In this
region, eighteen is sufficient. The legal age of consent
brings the rights to drive car or carpet, to vote, to serve in
the military or social services, to eschew further schooling,
to live apart from family, participate in such liaisons of
whatever nature one chooses, and to indulge in the popular
vices. There is no need to attempt them all at once,
however."

"Oh. Sure. I forgot. But you know, I've only lived
fifteen years."

He turned to Luna. "Does the calendar lie. Senator?"

Luna smiled. "We would not wish to accuse it of that.
There is already enough deception elsewhere to concern
us."

Roque poured Vita a small glass. She took it gingerly.
She had had experience with the worst of drugs, Spelled H,
but treated this glass as if it were her first flirtation with
adult privilege—as perhaps it was.

It was a fine meal. When Vita's manners faltered,
Oriene prompted her, so that she behaved like a perfect little
lady. She reveled in it. Her appetite was excellent, after the
two days in Purgatory.

"And what will the three of you be doing, after the
decision?" Luna asked Vita. She seemed satisfied to relax
with minor concerns, after her efforts to stave off world
disaster.

"Gee—I guess Oriene and Jolie won't want to stay,
once it's done," Vita said. "They only came to get me off
the H and out of trouble." She clouded up. "But I don't
know if I can make it alone."

"You need not be alone," Roque said. "You are now
of age to marry."

"Yeah, I guess. But—" She did a double-take. "Hey,
did you mean—I mean—" She gazed at him with round
eyes.

"I suspect I do. I have been busy, the past four years,
but the hope of a union with you sustained me."

"Oh, Roque! Of course I—" Then she sobered. "But
you don't know me alone! I mean, from when I first met
you I've had Oriene with me, and Jolie, too, mostly.
Without them I'd be just an underage snot. I couldn't stand
to turn you off like that!"

"Such is the sin on my soul, the very qualities that you
feel are tumoffs are in fact tum-ons, to use your language.
I do not think there would be a problem."

"I do! I'd get the shakes, trying to be a lady! It sure
doesn't come naturally! But with them—oh, Oriene, Jolie,
will you stay?"

Luna took another stone. "This will enable spirits to
manifest tangibly within its ambience. Perhaps they should
speak for themselves." The stone glowed.

Jolie moved out of the host and manifested in her own
form. "Thank you, Luna."

Oriene followed, becoming as she had been after her
recovery from the ravages of her death.

"I came to help Oriene," Jolie said. "I think she is now
well established in the Afterlife, and no longer needs my
support. I will return to Gaea, who needs me in another
way." But as she spoke, a sadness came on her. She had
enjoyed the company of both ghost and mortal, and felt
alive. She had always known it was temporary, but it would
be painful to leave.

"And you, Oriene?" Luna asked.

Oriene considered for some time before answering. "I
fought to remain a ghost, uncommitted to Heaven, Hell or
Purgatory, so that I could try to rescue my baby. Now I
know I cannot recover Gaw-Two, and somehow that is not
the disaster I expected, for I have seen that he is in




Piers Anthony

334 AND ETERNITY 335

competent and perhaps loving hands. The Incarnation of
Night evidently wanted him for herself, and I think I must
accede to that in my heart as well as in practice. So I am
without reason to remain among the mortals. But after what
I have seen of Heaven and Hell, I think I do not care for
either region. I think I would prefer to remain with Vita—if
she truly wishes my company."

"Oh, yes, Oriene, yes!" Vita cried, standing to embrace
her. The girl's hands and arms passed through Oriene's
image without contact, but the gesture was sincere. "You—
I need you so much, your maturity, your perspective, and if
I have a baby—"

"Oh," Orlene said, awed by the thought. "You would
share your baby with me?"

"Sure! What do I know about babies? I'd drop it for
sure, or something."

They all had to smile at that. No woman dropped a
baby! "But what we propose is not only our business,"
Orlene said. "Roque—"

"I have a confession to make," Roque said. "I have
always liked and respected you, Oriene. As a matter of
propriety, such as it was in the circumstance, I never
expressed this to you. But what Vita says is true: your
relative maturity and experience contributed to her appeal
from the outset, and though I would be prepared to deal
with her alone, I am also prepared to deal with the two of
you. I have no objection to your continued presence."

"But I was being supported by Jolie!" Orlene protested.

"The same is true of her. While I have been delighted
by Vita's uncritical enthusiasm, I have been reassured by
the presence of maturity. For brief liaisons the enthusiasm is
sufficient, but for an extended relationship, the maturity is
necessary. The combination represents the complete
woman." He shrugged. "But Jolie has another commit-
ment. If you do not—"

"It seems I do not," Oriene said.

"I am pleased that some good has come of this ordeal,"

Luna said. "I asked Jolie to help with Vita because I was in
desperate need of the services of Vita's mother, my re-
searcher Vera. There was also a need for a temporary mortal
host for Oriene. I had no idea that that liaison of temporary
convenience would prove to be so significant. When Judge
Scott got involved, there was another surprise." She
smiled. "I had not realized that you were lonely, Roque."

"Neither had I," he confessed. "My career had taken
up all of my attention, until Vita's first outburst made me
aware that a buried dream might achieve reality."

"So it seems that despite the mischief of the Incarnation
of Night, things have turned out satisfactorily on the
personal level."

Roque frowned. "I am not certain that Nox's involve-
ment was mere mischief. I happened to be along on one of
her enterprises, and it seemed more like a course of
education. She made clear that there has been a long history
of magical and scientific interaction, with truth in both the
Creationist and Evolutionary perspectives, and of course in
the mergence that includes the interaction of the several
Incarnations of Immortality. Why she should go to such
trouble to impress this on a small selection of mortals and
ghosts is a mystery to me. I would like to know her
reason."

"I think I was the one she was after," Orlene said.
"She took my baby, and put me through extreme unpleas-
antness when I sought to recover him, but she did tell me
the way to succeed. Perhaps she thought I was neglecting
my pursuit."

"What do you mean by unpleasantness?" Luna asked.

Orlene grimaced. "She turned me into a man. I—I let
myself be overcome by the masculine impulse, and—" She
shuddered. ' 'One thing that taught me was the nature of the
engine that is within men. It has caused me to be consid-
erably more tolerant. One of the things that impressed me
about Roque was his control of that same impulse; I saw
that when tamed, it could be a good thing, just as fire when




336 Piers Anthony

tamed is a most useful tool. But even where it ran wild, at
least I understood how it could happen, and that enabled me
to have some compassion even for rapists."

"Yeah, she really helped Kane!" Vita said. "He was
going to rape us and kill us, and he went to Hell, but she
helped him, and I thought she was crazy, but I guess she
knew better than I did."

"Why should Nox care about the compassion of a
ghost?" Luna asked.

"Maybe so I would better understand my son, when I
got him back," Oriene said. "To know why the procedure
for saving him was so complicated. Now I do understand,
and I see also that she is equipped to handle him as he is, so
it makes it possible for me to let him go."

"Which still does not explain why she should review
Evolution with you," Roque said. "Or clarify the nature of
the Incarnations, as also occurred when I was present."

'^Yes, until that time I had not properly appreciated that
God was an Incarnation like the rest," Oriene said. "Now
I have much less trouble accepting the notion of His
replacement. Otherwise I think I would have had to join the
forces of Satan, in their support of the status quo."

"She was the one who sent you on a tour that introduced
you to all the major Incarnations including God!" Luna
said. "This grows more interesting."

"Well, of course, Jolie was along," Oriene said.

Luna looked at Jolie. "Satan's bride—and Gaea's
handmaid," she said. "And Nox has had an interest in
Satan. Could it be that all this was a device to distract Jolie
for an extended period?"

Jolie was startled. "But to what point? I have no
power—I'm a ghost!"

"Suppose something had happened to you?" Luna
asked. "Such as getting lost in chaos, where even Incarna-
tions could not find you?"

"Both Satan and Gaea would have been distracted, of
course, in much the manner Vita's mother was distracted by
Vita's absence, but—"

AND ETERNITY         337

"Between them, those two Incarnations hold the bal-
ance of immortal power," Roque said. "With God not
functioning, that would leave the entire Incarnations frame-
work in peril. Could it be that Nox essayed a devious ploy
to wrest power from the Incarnations of Day?"

They gazed at each other, mutually horrified. Suddenly
the great mystery of the actions of the Incarnation of Night
was being resolved. Oriene had been used as a decoy to
distract Jolie, and meanwhile Nox had been active, some-
times openly, sometimes covertly—who knew to what
extent? Satan had mentioned a deal he had made with her,
to do something Nox's way. To do what, what way?

"I don't think this is over," Jolie said.

"I think the Incarnations of Day had better get their act
in order in a hurry," Roque said.

"I think you, Oriene, had better remain with me for the
next few days," Luna said. "And Vita and Roque too.
You, Jolie, should return immediately to Gaea, where you
will be safe until the current issues are settled."

"Yes." Jolie turned to Oriene. "I must bid you adieu,
for the time being. It has been wonderful being with
you—and with you, Vita!"

"But come back when it's over!" Vita cried as Jolie
faded out.

"When it's over!" Jolie agreed. Then she was racing
through the ether, home to her drop of blood on Gaea's
wrist.

She arrived safely. It had never before occurred to her
that she could be in danger; ghosts were proof against
molestation by mortals, and not of much interest to immor-
tals. But Nox had all the powers of the night, and it was
evident that she could touch ghosts when she chose.

That business of making Oriene into a man, for example:

they had assumed that this was intended to discourage
Oriene from her quest for her baby. But suppose she had
intended to get Jolie raped? How would that have affected
Satan, or Gaea? Had Nox believed that Jolie, shamed,
would have vacated the drop of blood that tied her to the

338 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 339

mortal realm and gone to Heaven as a spirit, so that Gaea
could no longer arrange private liaisons with Satan? Or,
later, in the debate between Creationism and Evolution—
had this been intended as a wedge between Jolie and
Orlene, to break up their association?

It was impossible to know—but certainly a case could
be made for it. Nox might have sought first to put Jolie and
Orlene together, and then to foment stress between them,
whether sexual or intellectual. All this could have been a
mere bypath on the Incarnation of Night's larger play for
mischief. Now that Nox had made a deal with Satan—using
Orlene!—did it mean that she expected to win? What was
that deal?

Jolie decided that she had better find out. Gaea.' she
called.

Gaea, at the moment attending to an obscure element of
weather, heard her, for Jolie was now with her. "Yes, Jolie;

I had not realized that you were back. What is it?"

I fear a ploy by Nox.

Gaea paused in her work. "Of what nature?"

/(involves Orlene. Nox involved herself with Orlene's
activities three times, and the third time may be critical. She
made a deal with Satan, to try something his way, then to
try it her way. He Tempted Orlene by saying he could get
her baby back for her, with Nox's acquiescence, but she
declined. That means that Satan will now do it Nox's way.
I fear that Orlene is just a tool for some more devious ploy
that may involve me. Orlene is close to both of you, as am
I; if one or both of us were put into serious trouble, what
implications for the coming crisis would this have?

Gaea considered. "Nox is the only female I fear, as far
as Satan is concerned. She can take any man she wishes, at
any time. But she has no need to bargain; she can do it at her
whim. I don't think her interest in him is of that nature."

/ agree. He would tell you—and me—if she made him
unfaithful to us. But Orlene is your daughter. A threat to
her could make him react. Do you think Nox did that?

"We had better find out," Gaea said grimly. "Take the
body."

Jolie moved into control and shaped the body to her
living image. Then she turned a page and stood in Hell.

Ozymandias looked up. "Satan is busy on Earth at the
moment," he said. "Shall I notify Him?"

"Yes."

Ozymandias picked up the telephone on his desk.
"Priority call to the Master," he said. Then: "Your wife is
here, and I think she is not in quest of love."

Satan appeared beside them in a puff of smoke. "Jolie!
What brings you here out of turn?"

"A private concern."

He extended his hand. She took it. Ozymandias' office
faded, and Satan's suite appeared.

"What is the nature of your deal with Nox?" Jolie
asked.

"Oh, that. I am not free to tell you."

"You are keeping secrets from me—and her whose
body I borrow?" Jolie asked angrily.

"I am the Lord of Lies, and Nox is the Mistress of
Secrets. There is a deal between us, and it must not be
shared with any other at this time."

Jolie felt Gaea's own anger rising, and knew that storms
were forming all over the mortal globe. "I must insist
on information. How can you have a loyalty to Nox you
do not have to me?" She meant herself and Gaea, as he
knew.

Satan frowned. "I have never reneged on a deal. I made
one with Nox, and must honor it. Exposure could spoil it.
I think you know I would not make a deal that would harm
you."

"That depends on your definition of harm!"

He sighed. "The inquisitivity of women! Let me com-
promise only to this extent: I will answer three peripheral
questions about it. With those you must be satisfied, until
the deal is complete. That may not be long."




340 AiWD ETERNITY 341

Piers Anthony

He is a man of honor, Gaea thought. We had better
settle for what he offers.

"Agreed," Jolie said tightly. "Does your deal involve
sex with her?"

"No."

"Does it threaten Oriene, or any other person close to
us?"

"No."

Jolie checked with Gaea, then asked the third: "Does it
affect the welfare of the mortal realm?"

"Yes."

That was it. Nox was interfering with the affairs of the
Incarnations, and was now using Satan himself as her agent.
Yet without using Nox's power of sex, or threatening
anyone close to them, how could she do it?

"Thank you," she said shortly, and turned a page back
to Gaea's Treehouse. There she returned the body to the
Incarnation.

"I think we wasted a question," Gaea said. "We
already knew that no ploy is needed for Nox to take him
sexually. But it may have been futile anyway; no one can
make Satan give information he doesn't choose to give. At
least now we have confirmation of Nox's interest in the
present crisis and know that no one close to us is to be hurt.
That will have to suffice."

Damn the man! Jolie thought. / can't stand such a
mystery!

"Well, we shall play it through one stage at a time. If
we prevail on the Declaration of Vacancy, and manage to
install an active God, his deal with Nox should not matter.
We must watch our moves most carefully."

One hour before the scheduled vote, the news flashed
across the holo nets: a senator had died abruptly from a
stroke. There was no foul play; Gaea would have known
about that. His thread had ended legitimately. Unfortu-
nately, he happened to be a staunch supporter of the

Declaration. The vote, indicated to be 51 to 49 in favor, was
now 50 to 49. If even one senator changed his vote, the case
would be lost.

Jolie and Gaea watched the key mortal vote through
their window. It was oriented on the Senate, and there had
evidently been some commotion, for armed guards were
stationed at the periphery. There had been a great deal of
controversy in the mortal press, and the partisans of either
side ranged from committed to fanatic.

Jolie, in tangible ghost form, sat beside Gaea. "But
where is Luna?" she asked, peering at the Senate floor.

"I don't know. She's supposed to be there for the

vote."

She was not there. The vote proceeded, headed for a
likely tie, 49 to 49, in Luna's absence. Gaea turned a page
to check on Luna's house, but it was empty, without sign of
disturbance. She oriented on Thanatos—and there he was,
riding through the worst traffic jam of the year, cars in
gridlock on the road and carpets jammed above. There was
no free avenue for progress.

"Satan's ploy!" Gaea muttered with rueful respect.
"The oldest trick in the business—and we never prepared
for it! To make her arrive too late for the vote."

But Thanatos simply rode his horse. Mortis, over the
cars and under the carpets until he came to the carpet with
Luna, Vita and Judge Scott. He lifted Luna onto the horse,
who then galloped through the carpets and buildings,
ghostlike, to the Senate building. As the roll-call vote came
to its conclusion, Luna appeared in her place. "Mr.
Chairman!" she called.

Thanatos went back for Roque and Vita, but already the
jam was unsnarling. It had indeed been magically induced:

a nominally harmless, but potentially devastating device.
By the time they reached the building, the vote had been
concluded. By a margin of one, the mortal vote to declare
the Office of the Incarnation of Good vacant had been
confirmed.




342

AND ETERNITY         343

Piers Anthony

"The first hurdle is over!" Jolie exclaimed. "The one
for which Luna prepared for twenty years! But I think the
second will be worse."

"It will be," Gaea agreed.

There was furor all across the mortal realm as the
decision was spread. Churches held special services wherein
the vacancy was denounced. Mock Hell was closed in
dishonor of the occasion. Messages of outrage were pouring
in. There were riots in all the major western cities. Martial
law was declared in several regions. But it was done. The
next step was up to the Incarnations.

The mortals would not be privy to the deliberations of
the six remaining Incarnations, but their decision would be
publicized. The mortal identity of the one who became the
next God would be announced, but there would be no
interviews, for that person would be gone from the mortal
scene.

The decision was to be announced one hour from the
time of the Senate's declaration. During that hour the
normal functions of the Incarnations were suspended. No
one was to die, or be born, or marry, or suffer any
significant change. All wars were put on hold. The weather
assumed a state of perfect blandness. All exercises of great
good and evil were suspended. The world waited; there was
link else for it to do.

The Incarnations would meet at the Mansion of Time,
where for this occasion time, too, was suspended. They
could debate the matter for a hundred years, but at the end
only a single hour would have passed. Chronos himself
declined to participate, because for him it was a conflict of
interest. If he acted in any way to affect the decision, it
could change the outcome and thus his own past, generating
a paradox from which even he was not immune. So he
remained apart, and allowed his successor of two years
down the line to return for this occasion. His successor was
the Chronos they had all known for most of their tenures,

who had been replaced, by mortal definition, two years
before this event. He was able to come here/now by
orienting on the grain of sand from the Hourglass which
Oriene had given up. He would participate only this hour,
then return to his own time. In this manner Nox's partici-
pation had had perhaps the opposite effect intended, because
instead of interfering with the vote, it facilitated it. Had
Oriene not gone to Chronos for that grain of sand, this
substitution of the Incarnation of Time would not have been

possible.

"But how will it actually be done?" Jolie asked. "I
mean, it's such a big step, deciding on God!"

"The process is simple," Gaea said. "The Incarnations
will take turns nominating mortals for the office. Any
Incarnation can nominate, and any can speak for the
nominee, and any can veto. Only a unanimous decision, all
six votes, will be decisive. Now merge with me; you will
get to see it directly."

They went. Deck chairs had been set in Chronos'
garden, and the six settled into them. They looked like
ordinary people, four men and two women, gathering for a
social occasion. Gaea went to say hello to Chronos, whom
she had not seen in two years. She had known him much
longer, but he had known her only for two, because of the
point in his tenure from which he had come here. The grain
of sand aligned exactly with its point of separation from the
Hourglass.

They settled down for business, knowing that it could be
grueling. It might be hours before they got down to the
necessary business of serious compromise.

"I have a nomination to make for the Office of the
Incarnation of Good," Thanatos said. "This mortal is a
good man, experienced in law and government. In fact, he
is one of the senators who supported the Declaration of
Vacancy." He named the man.

The others checked their notes. Satan looked up.
"Veto," he said. "This man is too good to suit Me."




344              Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

345

They had expected this. It was the main reason they had
spent years researching for good men. They might have to
nominate hundreds before one was accepted.

Chronos nominated a man he had known in life, a model
of fairness and perspective. Satan checked his notes, and
vetoed.

Fate nominated a man who not only was good, but who
had made a study of the interactions of the threads of fate.
Satan vetoed him.

Mars nominated a top martial artist who had in his
senior years gone far to define a workable philosophy of
peace through force. Satan vetoed.

Gaea nominated Judge Roque Scott.

They looked to Satan, expecting his veto.

"Now, this one is interesting," Satan said. "According
to My notes, this man has had an illicit affair with an
underage girl put in his charge. There is a fair amount of sin
associated with that."

"Since you will not accept any nominee without sin, we
are constrained to nominate one with sin we can accept,"
Gaea said evenly.

"Then let's take a look at him. Let the object of his
sinning speak for him, if she cares to."

Fate, in her middle guise of Lachesis, pursed her lips.
This was an interesting gambit. Surely Satan would not
accept as good a man as Roque. What was he up to?
"Rather than bring her here, let us go to her," she said.
"Chronos can suspend outside time as readily from the field
as from his residence."

"Indeed," Chronos agreed.

They stood, came together, and linked hands. Then
Gaea turned a page to Luna's house. Abruptly the six of
them were standing in Luna's living room.

The moon moth, Muir, gave a start. He was visible
through the eyes of the Incarnations. But he did not protest;

he blinked out of sight, summoning Luna.

Luna entered. "All six?" she asked, taken aback.

"We have business with Judge Scott," Gaea said. "He
is here at the moment, and this is a suitably private place, so
we shall settle the matter here. Please have him and Vita
come in."

Luna turned away, and returned a moment later with
Roque and Vita. Both were wearing little kitchen aprons; it
seemed they had been helping with the chores the old-
fashioned way. Luna, with much magic available, had a
rather sedate lifestyle.

"It's the Incarnations!" Vita exclaimed, round-eyed.

"Why, hello, all," Roque said. "What can we do for
you?"

"I have nominated you to assume the Office of the
Incarnation of Good," Gaea said formally. "We are asking
Vita to speak on your behalf."

Roque, ordinarily composed, was caught completely off
guard. "But that's impossible!" he protested.

"You may not speak for yourself," Gaea said. "Vita, if
you will, please."

Vita had known that Roque was a potential nominee,
but she seemed as aghast as he by the event. "Oh, I can't!"
she protested. "I love him!"

"It has been suggested that his relationship with you is
sinful," Gaea said. "This makes it possible for Satan to
accept him, as Satan will not accept any candidate without
sufficient sin. Compromise is necessary. Speak."

But Vita, realizing the significance of the matter, yet
knowing also that she would lose Roque if he were
confirmed, could not. Her awe and conflict were too great.
"Maybe—Maybe Orlene can do it," she said, her eyes
brimming over.

Satan made a negligent gesture. "Very well, so that we
can get on with this. Let Orlene make the case."

The figure of Vita straightened. She brought out a
handkerchief and wiped her face. Jolie was interested; she
had not seen this change as it looked from outside, before.
The entire bearing was different.




346 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 347

"I am Orlene," Oriene said. "I can speak from
experience of this man's credentials to assume the Office for
which he has been nominated. He is a good man, the best of
men; indeed, he was recognized as such years ago, when
Jolie was allowed to observe him as a prospect for Immor-
tality. But there is no need to dwell on this. The question is
whether Satan can accept him, knowing his goodness. I will
address his evil."

There was a master stroke, Jolie realized. Satan was the
problem; Satan's objection had to be met. Orlene had
caught on to this immediately. The woman had grown
steadily in competence and poise since her early setbacks,
and now might do as great a service for mankind as Luna
had. Orlene was, after all, of that fateful third generation,
Niobe's grandchild.

She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I went to see
God, and God would not respond to me. He was absorbed
in His contemplation of His own greatness. He had no
faults, no flaws, no sin. He could not relate to these things.
But the mortal realm is rife with faults and flaws and sin. I
think that only a person who knows something of evil can
relate to the mortal human condition well enough to lead
mortals to goodness.

"Judge Scott has sinned. He had an affair with a girl he
knew to be underage. This was in violation of his principles
as an administrator of the law, and a betrayal of his personal
trust. He knew it was wrong. But he yielded to his
masculine impulse and did it. The girl was willing, even
eager, and not inexperienced, but the law and conscience
were clear. Judge Scott did wrong. At one time he thought
to resign his position, but he did not, and so he retained his
status and power because of that guilty secret.

"I cannot see Judge Scott being deaf to the pleas of
those who have sinned or are otherwise imperfect. He
knows what it is to be tempted, to be weak, to succumb. He
knows himself to be imperfect, so will not hasten to dismiss
others of this way. I think he can serve the Office better

because of his sin than he could have without it. God is the
Incarnation of Good; that does not mean that He himself
must be absolutely good, any more than the Incarnation of
Evil must be absolutely evil, or the Incarnation of Death
must be dead. It means only that he must strive to forward
the cause of good to the best of his ability, always.

"Perhaps Satan does not want an effective Incarnation
of Good. But the world faces a crisis that will bring down
us all, mortal and immortal alike, unless an effective Deity
is named. I can recommend Judge Scott as a choice who
will do more good for all of us, even for Satan, than any
other likely compromise. I believe he should be confirmed
to this Office."

There was a silence. Jolie wanted to applaud; Orlene
had done a superlative job! Even Satan must have felt the
force of her argument. Was he to reject the logic of the one
he had cared for so much that he had sent Jolie herself to
watch her?

Then Satan spoke. "I think this woman is in love with
this man."

"I think I am," Orlene replied, undismayed. "But I
think what I have said of him is correct. My emotion has no
relevance. I am a ghost, with no body of my own. The loss
is to the mortal who loves him, and will lose him, and for
her I suffer, but the need of the world is greater than the joy
of any one person. I will return the body to her now, so she
can speak for herself, if you feel this is relevant."

"No, wait," Roque said. "It is not relevant. I must
with all due respect decline the honor of this nomination."

Gaea stared at him. "You decline?"

"I do. It is not that I feel unworthy, though I do. It is not
that I am indifferent to the cares of the world, for I am not.
It is that I am weak. I cannot bring myself to desert the
woman I love. Such sin as I have had I can now ameliorate,
and I wish only to complete my mortal tenure with an open
realization of what was secret. I cannot leave Vita, and do
not wish to leave that component of her present existence




348

AND ETERNITY         349

Piers Anthony

which is Oriene, who has defended me so ably. My place is
here among the mortals."

Gaea nodded. "Then we must let you go, good man."
She extended her hands, ready for the return to Purgatory.

"Let's hold a moment more," Satan said. "You hyp-
ocrites are missing the obvious. There is another right here
who would do."

Thanatos' skull lifted. "Hypocrites?"

Fate angled her head at Satan. "What are you talking
about? There is no other mortal man here."

"Indeed there is not," Satan agreed. "But there is a
prospect. You have excluded from consideration half of the
mortals! Every one of your nominees has been a man!"

The others stared at him. He's right! Jolie thought. Fate
took a man as an Aspect; why can't God be a woman?

Slowly Gaea turned to face Luna. "Then shall we
nominate Luna Kaftan?"

Thanatos jumped.

"No!" Luna exclaimed. "I decline also! My business is
here!"

"Then let Me take My turn," Satan said. "I nominate
the bastard.''

They looked at him, baffled.

"Oh, come now!" Satan said. "We all know that a
bastard is born with a significant charge of sin, by current
definition. We all know that this is unjustified, for the one
person who is blameless in that matter is the bastard
himself. Such a person, in the Office of Good, would be
sure to update the definitions of such sins, and make My job
easier. I am swamped with souls who really don't belong in
Hell, because they are good folk who only by definition are
evil. I say it is time for a bastard! Do you disagree, Gaea?
Would you veto such a nominee?"

Gaea stood frozen, her mouth open. She had caught his
meaning and was awed. She did not reply.

Jolie tried to read what Gaea had seen, but could not.
All she could discover was that Satan had completely
floored her. Whom was he nominating?

"And you, Thanatos!" Satan said, turning on the figure
of Death. "You are just as big a hypocrite! You fought Me
from the first, to prevent your paramour from being taken—
but did you nominate any from your domain? / nominate the
dead!"

"The dead are not eligible," Thanatos replied, shaken.
"Once they reach Heaven, Hell or Purgatory, they are
gone. Only those who remain of the mortal realm—"

"Suchas the ghosts," Satan said. "The rules do not say
the dead are ineligible, only that the choice must be from
among those who remain in the mortal realm. Can you deny
the ghosts?"

Now it was the fleshless jaw of Thanatos that dropped.
The eye sockets stared at Satan.

"And you, Chronos," Satan continued, turning on the
Incarnation of Time. "You nominated one of your period of
tenure. What of those who pass beyond your tenure? What
of an adulteress?" The Incarnation of Time stared, amazed.

He turned to Fate. "And what of one whose thread you
have cut?"

And to Mars. "What of one who never fought a war or
competed for power?"

All of them stood amazed, understanding Satan's refer-
ences. But Jolie didn't! About whom was he talking?

Satan's gaze swung back to cover Gaea. "Jolie!" he
said.

What?!

"Speak for My nominee," he said. "You know her
best."

Then, in a blaze of revelation, Jolie understood. She
found herself in charge of Gaea's body, facing Oriene.

"Indeed I know her," Jolie said. "I came to her when
she was a child, a love child, adopted into a worthy family.
She always knew she was a bastard, denied by her own
parents. She sought in consequence to right the wrong of
her origin, and to become the finest mother a woman could
be. She resolved never to abandon her own child in the way
she herself had been abandoned. Her baby was conceived




350              Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

351

by a man other than her husband, bringing more evil on her
soul, but she loved him perfectly and intended never to give
him up. When he died, through no fault of hers, she was
unable to survive this denial of her motherhood, and killed
herself, thereby bringing yet more evil on her soul. But all
of this evil was by definition; none of it related to her true
nature, which was as good and kind and compassionate as
it was possible for a mortal to be."

Now Orlene, in Vita's body, was staring.

' 'I came again to her after she died, and helped her pursue
her baby," Jolie continued. "Even in death she remained
true to her ideal. Despite the sin charged to her soul, she was
so completely good in other respects that her balance was
positive, and she was bound for Heaven. But she fought to
remain among the mortals, as a ghost, so that she could take
her baby with her. She put her own soul in peril for the sake
of the one she loved. I know no greater love than this: to turn
down Heaven itself for the sake of her baby. I know of no
person more deserving of Heaven than that one."

Orlene found her voice. "No ..."

"Yet when offered the chance to save her baby at the
expense of others," Jolie continued, "she did not. When
she learned that the girl she was helping. Vita, would suffer
if the course of time were changed to spare the baby, she
refused. She wanted her baby safe and well more than
anything else—except at the price of harming another
person. Yet even this was not the limit. In Hell she was
offered the recovery of her baby without harm to any other,
in return for a simple action which might well have had no
effect. She felt that action was wrong, so again she gave up
her baby. Yet even there in Hell she risked her soul to help
one she knew to be evil, because of the unfaimess of his
punishment."

Orlene looked at the assembled Incarnations. "I could
go on, but I think I don't need to. Satan has made a
nomination none of you can oppose, for it is in keeping with
the deal Satan made long ago with the Angel Gabriel. This

woman, Orlene, is the third generation, the grandchild of
Niobe, whom Satan had to corrupt within three generations.
Satan could not corrupt her, and indeed I think did not wish
to, for she is the daughter of the woman he loves, and his
stepdaughter. Satan made a deal with the Incarnation of
Night, who agreed to give up Orlene's baby if Satan could
use him to corrupt Orlene. If he failed, Nox would keep the
baby, and Satan would nominate her candidate—the one
she had been grooming all along for this Office—to be God.
Now he has done so, and it is good. She is a bastard, an
adulteress, a rapist, and a suicide—surely a creature des-
tined for Hell by current definitions. She is also marvelously
competent, compassionate, and good—and the very items
she labored so hard to obtain to save her baby can now be
used to facilitate her admission as an Incarnation."

Jolie turned on Thanatos. "Can you veto a ghost, whom
you know to be good despite the record on her soul, so
closely related to the woman you love? Give her the blank
soul you promised, that her slate may be clean." She turned
to Chronos. "Can you veto the woman you loved in life,
who died in the pursuit of your baby? Let your grain of sand
facilitate her transfer to that clean soul." And to Fate, in the
form of Lachesis:' 'Your granddaughter? Use your thread to
realign her life after death." To Mars: "Your daughter?
Give her your seed!"

The Incarnation of War smiled grimly. "I gave it at her
conception."

"And I gave My curse, when I damned the hypocrites
and nominated her," Satan said.

Then Jolie addressed Gaea, whose body she was using:

"And your daughter, whom you could not keep? Give her
your tear, to animate her in her new soul!" She discovered
that the host was weeping, and not for grief; the tears were
streaming down her face.

Jolie turned around, addressing them all. "Satan has
nominated the bastard; which among you can deny him his
choice?"




352 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 353

None of them spoke. Their astonishment was giving
way to understanding—and acceptance. Indeed, they could
not deny this one, for either ethical or personal reasons.

Jolie turned again to Orlene. Now, behind her, two
glowing figures appeared, one male, one female. The Angel
Gabriel and the Incarnation of Night, holding the baby. A
glow was playing about Orlene, too, as the gifts of the
Incarnations came to her. "And can you decline this most
deserved of all nominations, Orlene?" Jolie demanded.
"You, most of all, know what is needed in Heaven! You
know what has to be done, and you have the training and
education and compassion to do it. All that has been wrong
in the cosmos, you may now address—with the cooperation
of those who cannot deny you. Yea, not even Satan, who
loved you from the start, as did I. All of us love you, and
you love us, and you cannot deny us or the cosmos. You
can do no other than accept. You must be the new
Incarnation of Good—for now, and Eternity!"

"And Eternity," Roque echoed.

Orlene struggled to speak but could not. Tears stood on
her face. The glow about her intensified. Now Jolie under-
stood what had happened when Orlene helped the soul in
Hell: her glow of suitability had been but the hint of her
larger potential. As with the musical magic of Orb, which
had become the ability to use the phenomenal power of the
Llano and equip her to be the Incarnation of Nature,
Orlene's ability to see the glow had become the ability to
use the glow to make things right—and, ultimately, to make
the world right, as God. When she had withstood Satan's
Temptation, she had sealed her fate, unknowingly, for that
had led directly to this nomination. She had not known, but
Satan had known, and perhaps Gabriel—and certainly Nox.
Her power had begun to manifest. Now she was assuming
the aspect of the Office, becoming immortal.

Orlene bowed Her head, nodding in acquiescence. She
had given up Her baby, but now She would be Mother to the
cosmos itself. She walked slowly across to Satan, who

stood watching Her. "All that you hoped for shall be, for
the love of Evil, and for the love of Good, for now—and
Eternity," She said. She put Her arms around him, drew his
head down, and kissed him.

Chronos, who had loved Her as a woman, applauded.
Then the others joined in, and Jolie too. When God Kisses
Satan, and the Incarnations applaud, she remembered.
Orlene herself had prompted that answer to the hijackers of
the saucer: the Captain's declaration when he would capit-
ulate. Now it had come to pass! It was indeed the beginning
of a new era.

She turned to Jolie. "I think you must help Vita, for I
have assumed other duties."

Go to her, Jolie, Gaea thought. You will always be
welcome with me, too, but I think you are not yet done with
the mortal realm.

Jolie embraced Orlene. She felt the awesome Presence,
in that moment of their contact, not distant and aloof as it
had been in the Tenth Heaven, but immediate and generous
and loving. Then she transferred to the other host, and
Orlene rose out of it. Vita would not be left to fend for
herself.

Orlene, a ghost again, but imbued by the substance of
the Incarnation of Good, turned to the Incarnation of Night.
"I give My baby to you—and My blessing. My Office will
always be open to you." Nox nodded, and faded out.

God turned to the Angel Gabriel. "Will you serve and
advise the Office, as before?" she asked.

"Always, Lord Goddess."

"Then guide Me now to Heaven, for there is much to
do. I shall depend on your advice." She took his hand. "I
will be seeing all of you again, soon."

The glow became blinding. Then it was gone, and She
with it, and the Angel Gabriel. But Her Presence lingered.

"We have business too," Gaea said. "Luna, make the
announcement: we have chosen God, and She is Ghost and
Goddess."




354 Piers Anthony

Luna nodded, and left the room. In just a moment, it
seemed, there was a sound from all around: the sound of the
mortals of the world, cheering.

The Incarnations linked hands and disappeared. Jolie
was left with Roque. "I will remain with Vita as long as she
needs me," she told him. "I hope you can settle for that."

"I can settle for that," he said.

"We thought Nox was plotting something sinister, but
instead she plotted to save the cosmos. Why do you think
she did that?"

"I suspect she feared the game would end if she did not,
and she wanted the game to continue. Even Nox must get
bored with just dreams. Also, it may be that she really does
like the baby, with his omery malady. She well understands
the undisciplined passions of the male. So, in effect, she
traded for Gaw-Two, giving good value in return."

"I suppose so," Jolie agreed, awed now by the audacity
of it. "Certainly she made our lives more interesting."

Jolie returned the body to Vita. "Orlene's a Holy
Ghost!" the girl said, and giggled. Then she sobered.
"Gee, Roque, you gave up being an Incarnation, to be with
me!"

"It was selfish of me, I know," he agreed.

"You are still God to me."

"You are still a nymphet to me."

"Yeah? And what are you going to do about it?" But
she gave him no time to decide. She leaped into his arms.

Jolie shook her head, in her thoughts. These were
interesting times!

AUTHOR'S NOTE

During the course of my work on this novel, we moved. Did
it affect my writing? Perhaps you can judge by the change
in the text at what point the move occurred. I will tell you
later in this Note, so you don't have to write me any letters.
Leave the letters to those who are properly outraged by the
novel's theme and conclusion.

This is the final novel of this series; I have no plan to
write another. Readers have suggested that I follow up with
the Lesser Incarnations, but I am disinclined; after God, all
else is anticlimactic. Originally I planned on just five
novels, because I thought that readers would not care for the
inclusion of Satan and God, but I became satisfied as I read
my voluminous fan mail that the readers did indeed want
those Incarnations covered. So I extended the series, and
thereby hangs a tale.

It happened that at about the point I made the decision
to extend the series, I also decided to change publishers. I
do not change wives or publishers lightly, but the latter is
more likely than the former. I was having serious editorial
problems, and felt that the integrity of my work could be
guaranteed only by making the change. When push came to

355

356 Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

357

shove, that counted more than either money or convenience.

The change of publishers was complicated. Options had
to be voided and new understandings worked out. My
literary agent—the man who handled my American sales—
labored heroically to work things out with the old and new
publishers. By the time it was done, some 45 of my novels
had been affected to some degree, and more than half a
million dollars was allocated. My first 17 fantasy novels
remained with Del Rey, while the new Adept trilogy went
to Putnam/Ace and the final two novels of the Incarnations
series to Morrow/Avon. A new Xanth trilogy also went to
Avon. I had resolved, you see, to split my fantasy between
publishers, so as not to have too many eggs in one basket.

This was an amicable change, complicated by the shock
of the death of Judy-Lynn del Rey. Del Rey was the
publisher who put me on the best-seller lists and made me
one of the most successful writers of the genre. I did not
want to leave, and they did not want me to leave; it was just
one of those things. I still receive enormous royalties from
my titles with them, and great piles of fan mail, and expect
to do new business with them in the future. Certainly we
wish each other no evil.

But in the complicated process of transition, there was a
minor glitch. Del Rey did not get the word about my two
new Incarnations novels, and on the cover of the hardcover
edition of Being a Green Mother, printed, "A Brilliant
Conclusion to an Extraordinary Series." I notified them of
the error when I saw the cover proofs, but it was evidently
too late; those words remained.

Several readers wrote in to inquire about that, when the
hardcover edition was published, because I had told them
that there were more Incarnations coming. I had to explain
about the glitch, with some irritation. One reader hit the
ceiling. He decided to make a public campaign against the
publisher because of the lie. I demurred, explaining that
though the matter annoyed me, I could not claim it was
malice; it was a foul-up, of the kind that occurs not

infrequently in Parnassus. Certainly I would not allow my
name to be used in an attack on this publisher, who had
treated me very well over the years. I hoped to get it
straightened out privately. This reader then attacked me,
claiming that I had to be lying, and demanding, in abusive
language, a clarification of my lie.

Well, now. Few folk have the temerity to address the
Ogre in such fashion, and those who do, generally regret it.
I have too much mail as it is, and it is enough of a chore to
keep up with the positive letters without having to take on
such negative missives too. My response to him began:

"Listen, Blivet-Brain, I have little patience with fools or
knaves." Thereafter it became less polite. For those who
are not up on the vernacular of a prior generation, I should
explain that a blivet is a five-pound container with ten
pounds of excrement. I understand it is a useful weapon
when arguments get ugly.

So now you know why I changed publishers, and some
of the consequences thereof. You may consider this an
update on my autobiography, Bio of an Ogre, which was
published in hardcover in Mayhem (naturally!) while I was
writing this novel. I admit to running second to Harlan
Ellison when it comes to perpetual trouble, but believe me,
I am trying to close the gap. An ogre's reach should exceed
his grasp, else what's Hell for?

But I was trying to tell you about my move. In 1977 we
moved to the forest, preferring it to the city. We still prefer
it, but three things have changed. First, our financial
resources have improved, as my writing income progressed
from five figures to six figures, thanks to the support of
readers like you. About ten percent of each book of mine
you buy comes eventually to me in royalties, and that adds
up when sales are good. So we can now afford a six-figure
house instead of a five-figure house. Second, our daughters
grew up. Penny is now in college, and Cheryl, having made
the highest SAT score in the history of her school, is about
to go to college too. It is an irony that after I struggled to




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AND ETERNITY         359

Piers Anthony

reach a level of income that would enable us to afford
college for our daughters, Cheryl is getting Merit Scholar-
ships that make it relatively cheap. My fault, as I should
have seen it coming. I married the smartest woman I could
catch, because I wanted smart children. I didn't want my
children following my example and taking three years to get
out of first grade. But do you know what college kids do?
They came back home for surprise visits, with six of their
classmates in tow. Three of each sex. They think it is like
a convention, where they can pile up eight deep in one
room, sharing two and a half sleeping bags and a submarine
sandwich. I won't try to explain why this disturbs parents,
who are, of course, hopelessly out of touch with current
mores. I'll just say that we now need more room than we
did a decade ago. Third, we were already so crowded that
we had to thread mazes to get from one part of a room to
another. I am a writer, you know; I have books, and they
keep multiplying, and no, I can't part with a single solitary
one without suffering a seizure of one or two valves of the
heart. When folk visit, we have to move books out of chairs
so they can sit down. Actually, piles of books can make
decent temporary chairs, but visitors don't seem to under-
stand very well about this, particularly when the piles fall
over.

So we moved, as I said. It was my wife's project; she
took about six months without much sleep drawing up the
house plans, and our friendly neighborhood building con-
tractor, a man named Lou Dolbow, undertook the construc-
tion.

According to the contract, the house was to be complete
in Jamboree 1988, but I hoped that it would move along
well so that we would be able to move before then: say
OctOgre. The Ogre hates to travel, but when he does, that's
the month. That would save me from having to saw and
haul and split wood for the winter's heat. I like working
with wood, and since we bum only trees that have died and
fallen naturally, nothing suffers. It is good exercise, and our

wood stove not only heats our house, it heats our water, too,
so that our bills are small. I have not counted the hours I
spend per winter chopping wood, but I think it would be
somewhere over 20. Florida is warm, and our house is
insulated, so our needs are relatively small, but still it takes
a cord or so. The problem with this is that I now earn much
more than it would cost me to pay for an automatic heating
system; my time spent on free wood is ho bargain. So the
prospect of recovering those 20 + hours for my paying work
appealed.

Well, the house wasn't finished early. We had to go and
struggle with the cutting up of a huge fallen tree whose main
trunk arched over the forest floor: a real challenge. Yes, I
succeeded in binding the saw several times, but finally got
the job done, and we loaded wood into our car and hauled
it to the house. Why didn't I use the wheelbarrow? Because
the tree was about 3/16 of a mile distant—naturally, it had
fallen on our farthest piece of property—and downhill from
our house. A couple of wheelbarrow loads convinced me
that there had to be a better way. So we had wood for the
winter, and the time was lost; my writing slowed accord-
ingly.

The house was not complete in Jamboree. When would
it be done? In FeBlueberry, Lou assured us. But it wasn't
done then either. The completion date receded like the
horizon, always about two weeks distant. Marsh, Apull,
Mayhem, while I worked on this novel, expecting to break
off momentarily for the move and never quite doing so.
What was the problem? Well, a contractor does not do it all
himself; he subcontracts the various parts of the job, and
coordinates the whole. Again and again one crew or another
would be scheduled for a job, and wouldn't show—and so
other crews were delayed, because they could not do their
jobs until the first was done. Or something would be done
wrong, so that corrections entailed more delay. The choice
seemed to be between quality and speed, and Lou opted for
quality. There seems to be a failure in the work ethic; many




360              Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

361

people just do not seem to be much interested in working,
or in doing their jobs promptly and correctly. I wonder to
what extent this represents the effects of the so-called drug
culture. The availability of increasingly potent drugs like
cocaine (but not Spelled H, yet) has cost me more than one
associate and made direct and indirect mischief of more
than incidental nature. I stay clear of such things, avoiding
even nicotine and caffeine; I resist taking aspirin or the
equivalent unless I have a rare bad headache. I want no
baffle between me and reality, so I am usually in possession
of my natural faculties. I suspect that many others are not.

You know, I am not the greatest writer in the world, but
I am one of the most successful. Perhaps this offers a hint
why: I always do my job, promptly and well. I am amazed
at the number of others who don't. I have pride in my work,
which will cause me to leave a good publisher, at great
inconvenience, rather than allow a novel to be unduly
compromised. I will speak out in protest when I see wrong
done. Not only does this attitude seem to be atypical, it has
brought me the reputation of a troublemaker—in fact, of an
Ogre. As I watched my new house being built, I couldn't
help wishing that there were more ogres on the crews. I'll
go into more positive detail about the house further along,
but first let me change subjects.

There is another huge tax on my working time: the mail.
It takes me about half an hour to answer the average letter,
so the hours lost can be calculated by dividing the number
of letters by two. I decided to get a secretary, so that I could
still answer personally but not lose as much time. But we
had no room for such a person. Our new house, twice the
size of our old one, would have room; I could put her in a
comer with my backup computer system and let her do the
letters. (I say her, but a male secretary would do as well, or
a very smart robot.) I figured on hiring maybe a retired
teacher, so that I wouldn't have to teach her basic English,
and educating her in the type of response I normally did, so
that I wouldn't have to dictate each letter verbatim. I receive

quite a number of "Dear Mr. Anthony, I am eleven years
old and this is my first fan letter. Here are ten puns for
Xanth. When is the next Xanth novel coming out, and
what's it about?" missives, and a fairly standard answer
would do for these, with whatever individual touches were
appropriate. So, once we moved, I could look for such a
secretary.

And then we kept not moving. Had we moved in
OctOgre, and set up secretarily then—well, I answered 99
letters that month, which was about standard. If a secretary
cut my average answering time in half, that would be about
25 hours saved. Right—one winter's worth of wood! In
NoRemember the pace increased, to 132 letters. This was
because I had several novels published in the fall season,
and the mail follows the sales figures. Readers keep asking
why I don't have my address published in my novels, so
that more folk could write to me. I hope I don't need to
answer that. In DisMember there were 166 letters, bringing
the total for the year to 1393. Understand, that's just the
ones I answered; I don't answer them all, though I do the
best I can. But when I could move in Jamboree . . .

By this time Fate had discovered that I had no ready way
to handle letters, because I couldn't get a secretary because
I couldn't move. I was tied down. So the Jamboree total
was 221, a record. That meant that my approximate
180-hour working month (actually, I'm working all the
time, but I don't count meals, chores, reading [unless it is
direct research], exercise, family demands and such, so it
nets 40 to 45 hours a week) lost about 110 hours to the mail.
Between that and wood chopping, guess how fast my
paying work was moving then! I had to do something. I had
already resolved to avoid conventions and similar distrac-
tions for the year, to recover time, but it was draining away
as fast as I could save it.

FeBlueberry is a short month. I answered only 163
letters. That meant that just over half my working time was
available for my writing. But somehow I wasn't satisfied; I




362 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 363

wanted more. I was working on Xanth #12, Man from
Mundania, and it was moving well yet taking an extra
month because I put so little time in on it. Xanth is
relatively easy and fun to do. What would happen when I
came to Incarnations #7, a more significant challenge?
When the #$%&*H would that house get finished?

Then in mid-Marsh we saw an article about a local lady
who was setting up a business called "My Private Secre-
tary." She would supply secretarial skills for small busi-
nesses of the area for $15 an hour. Since she had her own
office and was self-employed, no special paperwork was
needed. So I called her, and next day my wife and I went to
see her. We decided to try it. I scribbled notes for my
answers on the backs of the envelopes, and she typed them
up into coherent letters. Then I reviewed the letters, signed
them, and mailed them.

It worked. She handled most of my fan mail, while I
continued to handle my business mail and those fan letters
requiring special handling—suicidal teenagers, for exam-
ple. I timed some batches, and concluded that it was now
taking me just under fifteen minutes per secretarial letter,
average. Half my letter time was being saved! As a result,
this novel, started at the same time as the secretary, moved
better than the last one had, despite being more difficult. I
was devoting more time to it. It was a wonderful feeling,
putting about three quarters of my working time into my
novel instead of only half my time. And we hadn't even
moved yet! The secretary was not conversant with my work
and had to check with her husband, who knew the genre. He
assured her that I was a legitimate writer. I gave her a box
of my books, and paid her the going rate per hour for
reading them, because she has a better idea how to answer
a letter when she knows what the fan is talking about. Thus
when I scribble "Not end; Evil out 11-88," she can type
"No, Being a Green Mother is not the conclusion of the
series, despite what it says on the cover. The next one. For
Love of Evil, concerning Satan, will be published in

hardcover in NoRemember 1988.1 hope you like it as much
as you did the prior novels in the series." Sometimes she
adds: "My secretary likes this series best."

Still, a lot of my time still goes to the mail. About half
of it is new letters, and the rest is repeat letters. Some fans
just keep writing back. I try to answer all the first-timers,
but don't feel obliged to keep up perpetually with the
repeaters. But it isn't necessarily easy to cut off a cor-
respondence. Let me make an example of an extreme case:

this was a boy who had written to me a dozen times, and
had a dozen responses, and asked how often it was all right
to keep writing. I explained gently that it was difficult for
me to keep up, so less was better. Hurt, he signed off with
one last letter. Then he continued to write, about once a
month. Finally, when the total was about 18 letters, which
had used up more than a thousand dollars worth of my
writing time, I got more pointed. I told him that I hoped he
would understand when I didn't answer his next.

In due course he responded with his "last and final"
letter. In it he informed me that he had arranged to go to
Florida, where he had traced down my address and taken
one drive past my house. He expressed extreme disappoint-
ment. "You had made yourself seem so important and so
wonderful. . . . such a humanitarian, such a busy man,
with no time to do everything you want to ... but I saw the
dead ugly trees in your yard, and the waist-high weeds, and
the dismal house you call home. ... I really don't mind if
you write about this letter in your future author's notes.
Maybe the others will know the real Piers Anthony. It is my
hope that they do." He added that he took pictures to show
to his friends, who couldn't believe it, and that I should
remember that it was my fans who put food on my table and
let me get my books even PUBLISHED. He thanked me for
his rude but wonderful awakening; at last his eyes were
open to the reality behind the facade. He signed his name
with the subtitle "ex-Anthony fan."

As I said, this was an extreme case, but it illustrates the




364

AND ETERNITY         365

Piers Anthony

type. None of this revelation came to him until I cut him off
after he refused to take a hint. Most others have taken the
hint, but are nevertheless hurt, and I do get some hate mail.
It is apparent that there is no way short of this to protect my
time from those who are determined to take it. This letter
arrived in FeBlueberry, but isn't one of the 163 because I
didn't answer it. I have left a small trail of disillusioned
ex-Anthony fans, and I don't like doing it, but the alterna-
tive is to allow my working time to become monopolized by
just such folk. One of my reasons for getting a secretary was
to make my answers less personal, so that those who craved
a large collection of personal Anthony notes would be
dissuaded without coming to emotional violence. In this
sense, ironically, I can sympathize with God: how do I get
on with my business when those who idolize me insist on
my complete attention? How could God function, with
billions of personal demands being made on Him?

But, having taken this ex-fan up on his challenge to
publish his expose, let me address the points he raises. I
make no money from fans like him; I answer them at a
financial loss, and would very soon be broke if every one of
my readers were like this. It is my business to write novels;

I answer correspondence only as a courtesy, sometimes
receiving little in return. The ones who put food on my table
are the great majority who buy, read, and enjoy my novels,
and who do not seek to correspond with me. I also do not
attempt to make myself out as "important and wonderful";

in fact these same Author's Notes strike reviewers as
"boring and offensive." I simply display my thoughts and
activities, positive and negative, for the period during
which I write one of these novels. I would call them feisty
rather than either wonderful or offensive, but each reader is
free to interpret as he chooses. Most seem to consider the
Notes to be personal letters to my readers, and that seems
close enough.

This fan thought he could make a judgment on my
competence as a writer and my character—by driving by my

house. This illustrates the problem with critics in general,
who make what amount to similar judgments. Nevertheless,
there are indications. A person's residence can tell a lot
about him, if the one who looks at it has the wit to
understand. You see, this fan did give an accurate descrip-
tion of my house. The roof is dull metal, the siding
weathered, the yard overgrown, and there are half-a-dozen
dead trees standing in it. (Make that four; two blew down
later.) There is little evidence that any of it has been touched
in years. But this is not neglect. The roof is teme-coated
stainless steel, which a builder will tell you is the finest it is
possible to make; it will last without repair just a shade short
of eternity. The siding is red cedar shakes which are
supposed to weather to their own shade, never needing
paint. They look old after a year in the sun, but they are
great no-maintenance protection. The "weeds" are dog
fennel, this region's natural ground cover. We don't mow
them down because they are harmless—and because it is
our philosophy to do as little damage to the natural forest
and field as possible. Others move to the country and
promptly extinguish the natural flora and fauna, rendering
their lots into manicured suburbia. We left our forest as we
found it, deliberately. No mower has touched our yard,
other than horses; no tree has been cut unless it threatened
the house. We sought not to drive out the creatures of the
forest, but to share with them. We love to see the big
burrowing box turtles locally called "gophers" and the oc-
casional armadillo. There are mounds of dirt left by the
tunneling pocket gopher—the "vole" of Xanth—and by
the dung beetles, who sanitize the pasture by burying clods
of dung. Wrens and squirrels nest in our eaves, to our
delight; we have come to know families of them. Wild
rabbits play hide and seek with our dogs. (Yes, on occasion
a dog does catch a bunny. We hate that, and try to warn the
bunnies before letting the dogs out.) Those "dead ugly
trees" are what is called standing deadwood, and it, too,
contributes to the way of the forest. Woodpeckers peck in




366 Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

367

it, and nest in it. We have a family of the rare, spectacular,
crow-sized Pileated woodpeckers which call on our dead-
wood; we can watch them right from the house. The
national forest service once took out deadwood, but discov-
ered that this despoiled the habitat for woodpeckers, and
now lets it stand. Nature does know best. Only after it falls
by itself do I saw it up for the stove.

So this disaffected fan did see my house—but how little
he understood it or me! It does represent the real Piers
Anthony, whose values are not for appearances, and I shall
be glad if my readers know it. We did, as I said, move—but
our philosophy is unchanged, and the new house is even
deeper in the forest than the old. I don't give much of a
curse about the opinion of strangers, so my house may look
as dull as I do—but it is sound. The same goes for my
philosophy. I do what I feel is right, and if a fan can idolize
me yet have no idea of my values, then I think the fault is
not where he supposes. I really do care about my work, and
would much prefer to stay with it than to put effort into a
conventional yard or into attendance at conventions.

But for all that, we have made some compromises with
the new house. It does have a grassy yard, which we expect
our horses to mow. But the property also has a fox, owl,
rabbits, fireflies, dragonflies, and a big box turtle who
insists on sharing the dog's yard. We tried to fence that
turtle out, fearing what the dogs might do to it, but it
plowed back in and the dogs couldn't hurt it. Great; I love
having it. There are blue, black and huckle berries aplenty,
and passion fruit with its lovely purple flowers. Also some
big rat snakes and rattlers, which we leave alone. Our
mailbox is half a mile away; we have a drive lined with
pines, laurel oaks, hickory and magnolia trees, because we
gave orders to curve it around them instead of 'dozing them
out. We are deep in our private jungle, and fifty feet out
from the house nature is undisturbed. Ye who would judge
me by my residence, judge me by that.

I read an article in Boardroom Reports, a periodical

devoted to business management. It was titled, "Beware
the Mind Blowers," and described the way some others
react to highly successful people. Envy verging on malev-
olence, it suggests, is common, and there is a desire to
diminish the successful one. "Many professional critics, for
instance, are in this category," it says. That seems to
explain a lot, and not just about reviewers. The article
warns that flatterers, too, are dangerous. I agree. Some who
have greeted me with fulsome praise have not understood
why it turned me off. I don't want flattery or condemnation,
I want the truth, whatever it may be. Readers who call
errors in my novels to my attention receive my thanks, and
sometimes mentions in Author's Notes.

Meanwhile, as I wrote this novel, events continued.
Robert A. Heinlein, perhaps the leading figure in our genre,
died. A reader, pained by this news as I was, suggested that
I mention this here, and I agreed. Heinlein was a giant, and
with him passes an age. Clifford Simak, less well-known
but the author of City, one of my favorite genre novels, also
died. And, in the adjacent Western genre, Louis L'Amour.
It hurts to see such figures pass, yet time is inexorable.

Then I received a query from another reader, who noted
that some of my recent novels didn't have Author's Notes:

had I died? she inquired worriedly. I tried to reassure her; I
remain reasonably healthy for my age.

Ah, yes: health. A study was published which showed
mat vitamin C does halt a cold. For decades the medical
profession has disparaged this notion, claiming that there is
no way to stop a cold, when actually this is one of several.
I am glad to see that the experts are finally trying it, instead
of condemning it untried. Another way to stop a cold is
heat. I wonder whether this attitude of condemning things
untried is like prayer: you have to have faith. The doctors
had faith in what wouldn't work, so never had to try it. But
those of us with open minds suffer fewer colds.

Meanwhile, how is my career doing? Two lady editors
came to see me at this time about a seven-figure offer—




368 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 369

which I did not feel free to accept, because it threatened to
commit me too far ahead. It's like signing a contract with
Satan: once you take the money, you had better be prepared
to deliver. I wasn't quite sure I was ready. I want to get
some less commercial projects done before returning to the
solidly paying ones. But never fear; I do not sneer at
commercial writing. I just don't want to be totally governed
by it.

At this time my Xanth Pin-Up Calendar was also
progressing: luscious half-ladies of many kinds, painted by
a number of top genre artists. But we discovered that the
publishers had already locked in their calendars for 1989;

we had to postpone ours until the calendar year 1990. Sigh.

I received two letters that put me into a dilemma: both
were requests that I agree to complete the novels of hopeful
writers who had died. One had been killed at the age of
sixteen in an auto accident; the other had been murdered at
age twenty-two. Now, I hate untimely death, and hate to
have the hopes of aspiring writers cut off. But death is no
guarantee that the manuscripts are good ones. So I de-
murred, but did look at one—and it will be the next novel
I do, as a collaboration with a dead teenager: Through the
Ice.

Let's see: I promised to get into our new house. Those
who hate such detail should now tune out; it's a long story.
We got books of designs and pored over them, getting
notions for this feature and that. One that appealed was
based on George Washington's house, with curving wings
for a garage on one side and a guest house on the other.
Well, now—there was my separate study, in that two-story
wing, with a covered walkway to the main house. We liked
the symmetry of it, but my wife had other notions for the
main house. So we merged notions, and pulled in the
wings, and finally perfected a two-story house with garage
and storage room on one side and my study complex on the
other, and everything she wanted in the center. At last count
it was somewhere over 4000 square feet.

Actually, after she designed it we saw an article in
Popular Science about dome houses made of special insu-
lated cement blocks. The notion intrigued us, and we
worked out a dome-house complex that did all the same
things: a main dome for the house, an attached study dome,
a garage dome, a daughters-bedroom dome, a pool dome, I
forget what. But when we talked to the contractor, he said,
"What about resale value?" We did a double-take and
pulled out the old plans. A house is not just a place to live,
it's an investment. Ours, to be built on a tree farm, would
represent a nice estate that should hold its value for our
grandchildren, when.

I think the contractor, Lou Dolbow, enjoyed the project.
We took him in our four-wheel drive Toyota deep into the
wilderness and said, "Build it here." We put colored bands
around trees to mark where the access road should be. He
had to arrange to build a half-mile road to that spot, and
then build the house, deep in the jungle adjacent to the
young slash pines. "Don't hurt the rattlesnakes," I warned.
The power company wanted to cut a 25-foot-wide swath
through the center of the tree farm; Lou hassled until they
agreed to bury the line beside the new road. The bulldozer
man got lost, and I showed him the route. Right in front of
him was a little magnolia. "Curve the road around that
tree," I said. Even so, some of its roots got chopped; we're
nursing that tree along, and I think it will survive. We have
a beautiful lane, to be called Ogre Drive, because we care
about what nature offers. No, don't write to me begging for
the address; this property is intended to be private. There
will be a thorough description of it in my mainstream novel
Firefly, but it won't be where the novel says it is.

Alcoa Aluminum is expanding. It now makes roofing
and siding. We used both, and it is our understanding that
we used more Alcoa than they sold for any other project in
Florida up to this time. They sent a party to photograph it
for their records. The roof is aluminum made to resemble
weathered wood shakes, and the siding is vinyl made to




370 Piers Anthony

resemble aluminum. Inside we have teak parquet flooring
that we bought over a decade ago for our present house, and
couldn't install because of the crowding when our contractor
never finished the house. We sued him and put him out of
business, and used the bare concrete slab for the floor. Lou
did improvements on that house, before building the new
one from scratch. And so on—I won't bore you further with
details. Take my word that it is a nice house, in a nice
setting, though at this writing books and boxes are piled on
the floor, as we continue to ferry our things across.

Yes, of course the dogs and horses went with us. We
had a little bam built, just like the one on the old property,
so the horses would feel at home. Penny's mare Blue is
thirty years old, gray-headed but still spry, and her com-
panion Snowflake is twenty. We had to have somewhere
over a mile of fencing done for their pasture.

I mentioned computers. This novel was done using my
Dec Rainbow computer system, with MS-DOS and her
garden directories, and FinalWord. No, I don't promise to
stay with either indefinitely; computer technology is moving
too rapidly. I'm looking toward a so-called 386 machine.
You will no doubt leam all about it in some future Note in
some future series. Having been satisfied for thirty years
with penciled drafts and manual typewriters, I went reluc-
tantly to the computer, but now I am hopelessly spoiled by
it and constantly want more.

One evening a car stopped by our mailbox, at the old
address. Oh, no, surely more fans! I went out, and my fear
was confirmed: they were college students who had made it
a game to locate me. I really don't appreciate such games;

I was trying to eat supper at the time, and there was a dull
drizzle outside. But then they gave me a plaque commem-
orating the Incarnations series. It was beautiful. There's a
skull for Death, an hourglass for Time, a web and spider for
Fate, a red sword for War, and a circling rose vine for
Nature, all made of a claylike plastic that didn't exist in my
day. It was made by Elisa Velasquez, and will hang on the
wall of my new study. Another reader, J. P. Morris, made

AND ETERNITY         371

and sent a string-art portrait of Neysa Unicorn, another
beautiful item. I really don't seek gifts from my readers,
and don't wish to encourage this sort of thing, but have to
admit I like these ones very well.

At _this time I was reading Samuel (Chip) Delany's
autobiography. The Motion of Light in Water. His autobio
and mine were published two months apart, so the two
invite comparison. I knew Chip briefly, and liked some of
his work. He is an award-winning science fiction writer. On
the surface the two of us are quite different. He is a black,
dyslexic, homosexual literary writer, while I am a white,
heterosexual commercial writer. But these differences may
be superficial. Underneath there are parallels. Both of us
differ from others to more than average degree. I may have
been dyslexic myself; in my day there were no learning-
disabled children, only stupid or perverse ones, so I had no
excuse for struggling to get through first grade. But I made
sure that my dyslexic daughter Penny did not have to endure
what I did. It may be said that when I finally got fed up with
taking it, I started dishing it out, and the evidences of that
militancy are all around me and in this Note. Chip seems to
have been nicer, and so he may have suffered more and had
a less dramatic career. I wonder whether he read my book
with as much interest as I read his?

I finished that book, and started on the next: Chaos, by
James Gleick. We had bought a copy through the Book-of-
the-Month Club, but I had not yet looked at it. Then a fan,
the artist Kurt Cagle, sent me a copy, and I looked at it and
saw the illustrations of the Mandelbrot Set. I had seen such
pictures before, but this time they registered, because I had
a need of a simple way to structure a complex new universe
for a new series of novels. The Set offered such a way. Thus
the footing of my future work occurred in the late stages of
my present work. The Mandelbrot Set is too complicated a
matter to get into here, but those who are interested in art
and mathematics should find it fascinating. It held me for
hours at a time, when I had a novel to finish.

In Incarnations #4 I discussed "Ligeia," the suicidal

372 Piers Anthony AND ETERNITY 373

teenage girl I tried to help. Mail continues to come in about
that, and there have been several other Ligeias. I am
pondering whether to write a book on them, titled Ligeia:

The Early Part of Dying. I am no expert on suicide, but I
find myself drawn into their lives, and I must either respond
or refuse to respond. They aren't just girls, and not limited
to teenage, and suicide is not the only symptom of depres-
sion. Once a runaway came to my house; I wanted to be fair
with him, but as a parent myself I insisted that he let his
mother know where he was. The relief in her voice was
almost tangible when I called her, and he did decide to
return home. Another phoned me from the hospital where
she had landed after they found her in time, before the pills
had full effect; I was able to give her news that improved her
outlook. But it isn't always positive, and it's generally
chancy. When I hear from one, and then, without explana-
tion, I don't hear, I get nervous. Once a reader told me how
a relative had recommended On a Pale Horse to him as the
finest novel—and then killed himself.

I think in most cases the depression is physiological in
origin. That is, something in the body causes it. For
example, there is SAD: Seasonal Affective Disorder. People
suffer from it in the darker winter months, and recover in
the brighter summer months. It can sometimes be treated by
bright lights. There may also be hormonal imbalance. I feel
that a competent physical exam should be the first step in
checking out a Ligeia; A person should not be left to suffer
in darkness, when relief might be as simple as a bright light.
I can't forget how I myself was considered mentally ill
because of my depression and fatigue—until a blood test
showed t^at I am diabetic. It isn't necessarily all in the
mind. In fact, I suspect that it seldom is. But again this
reminder: I am no expert, only a fantasy writer who got
involved more or less coincidentally, when the first Ligeia
wrote me.

Let me talk to the other Ligeias out there directly: if you
are suffering, and no one seems to care, and you don't know

where to turn or whom to trust, and you really would rather
be dead but you're afraid to kill yourself, and you cannot
talk to your parents—well, I tried to find out what number
you could call for help. If your local phone book is like
mine, there won't be anything under SUICIDE. But check the
index at the beginning and see if it lists "Human Services
Guide." Turn to that part, and look for "Counseling."
Under that section look for "Suicide Prevention." Call that
number. They should help you. If you are worried about
getting in trouble, don't give your name, just your problem.

If you are abused, or need some advice about your
situation—it can be hard to tell what constitutes abuse,
sometimes—a similar approach should get you a number:

look under "Abuse" in the Counseling section. If you are
a runaway, call the National Runaway Switchboard: 1-
800-621-4000 (but it was always busy when I tried) or the
Covenant House hotline, 1-800-999-9999, which can also
handle abuse or suicide. They will keep your confidence
and try to put you in touch with someone local who can help
you.

The thing to remember is that, whatever your problem,
you aren't the only one with it, by a long shot. There is help
and comfort for you, if you can reach it. It seems worth a
try. This series is ending, but the organizations remain, and
it may be that you won't have to depend on God alone for
help.

I pondered for months whether to end these Notes with
the conclusion of this series, and finally asked an editor,
who I think also sweated the matter somewhat. We con-
cluded that there will be Notes in a different series, though
perhaps not as autobiographical as the present ones. So this
may be the last of the intensely personal, militant essays, at
least for a while. If you are a Notes freak, though, keep
your eyes open, and sometime, somewhere, when you least
expect it, there'll be another.

Which brings me to the matter of the effect of my move
on my writing. Well, the delays continued so long that I




374

AND ETERNITY         375

Piers Anthony

completed the novel and this Note in first draft before
moving. Only the editing—that is, going over it to correct
spelling and syntax, add in omitted bits, and set the format
for printing out the copy for the publisher—took place after
the move. My spot research for Ligeia helplines was the last
thing I did; that was at the new house. Now you know.

We have had a total of three hard-disk crashes since
computerizing, and each has been a colossal headache,
costing me everything I had saved for the prior year or so.
Of course, I had my novels backed up on floppy disks, but
still it was a pain. The last one wiped out three months of
daily records I hadn't gotten around to printing out. I
agonized, and decided to drop the records. I had kept them
for 21 years, recording each day's production and events,
and that should be enough for posterity to examine. Now I
just type my ongoing thoughts in a separate file as I go
along, and print and erase that file each day. So the
computer has changed my life in a way, whether for good or
ill I can't say. I worked out a little song about it. Do you
remember the popular song "Winchester Cathedral"? Well,
the hard disk is called a Winchester. So my variant goes:

"Winchester Computer,/ you're breaking down,/ You stood
and you watched as/ My data left town." That's from the
heart.

In each of these Incarnations novels, I have noted the
manner that the subject seems to affect my life. Death,
Time, Fate, War, Nature, Evil—did it continue for Good?
It seemed if hadn't, for though many interesting things
happened, including our move to the new house, none of it
seemed supernatural. It is true that our move represents
achievement of a residence that is larger and nicer and more
private than what we have known before, and probably this
is our final mortal home, so there is a certain symmetry in
its occurrence at the time I wrap up this series, but that's
about the extent of it. So it seemed that this time the magic
did not operate, except perhaps in little ways. For example,
two Jehovah's Witnesses appeared at our door in this
period, seeking to alert me to the approaching termination

of the world we know. I try to address all such visitors
politely, though the chances of my being converted to such
belief are minimal. They left their book, Life—How Did It
Get Here? By Evolution or by Creation? and promised to
return in two weeks to discuss the matter further. I looked
at the book, but though it makes superficial sense, I feel that
its points have been effectively answered by Richard Daw-
kins' The Blind Watchmaker. In short, for me. Evolution
has carried the day. I looked forward to discussing this, but
the Jehovah's Witnesses did not return, and then we moved.
So I put the discussion in Chapter 9, using Nox's vision to
clarify the base of the Incarnations series. Actually, I mink
the Bible speaks more realistically than many of its apolo-
gists think, and makes more real-world sense than they
credit. But it speaks in language the common man of two
millennia ago understood: "day" rather than "eon."
Whereupon modem man misunderstood it.

I completed the first draft of Novel and Note on my
daughter Cheryl's eighteenth birthday in late Mayhem. (My
daughter Penny's birthday is in OctOgre, of course. I
believe I mentioned that the Ogre does things in such
months, with maybe a bit of help from my wife, who is
another Mayhem.) All that remained was the editing, which
I did after we moved—on my wife's birthday. My birthday
gift to Cheryl was enough of my time to get her through her
driving license. Penny was pushing to drive at fifteen, but
Cheryl wasn't as eager, so still wasn't licensed. She also
had a problem with coordination of the clutch and gearshift.
We pondered, and decided that it would be best to teach her
with automatic shift. We also wanted four-wheel drive,
because our tree farm has some back roads and sugar sand
that can be treacherous. We had each feature, but not in the
right cars. We wound up trading in both car and van, to get
auto-shift in the first and 4W drive in the second. Two
trade-ins and about $25,000 took care of it. Ouch! But at
this writing, Cheryl is learning. Oh yes, my time is
precious—but so is my daughter.

It happened that the school year was wrapping up, and




376              Piers Anthony

AND ETERNITY

377

the Citrus High School Senior Awards Ceremony was held
on Cheryl's birthday. Now Cheryl, despite her record SAT
score, was not the top student in her class, or the second; in
fact she wasn't in the top five. Grades can be a chancy
thing, depending on a student's luck in the draw of classes
and teachers, absence owing to illness, conformity to the
system's expectations, and the vagaries of the grading
curve. The most intelligent or motivated or honest students
are not necessarily those with the highest grades. But what
Cheryl lacked in height she made up in breadth. I counted
the number of times she was called to the stage, and it
became apparent to all present that this was indeed her day.
She had a total of 18 awards, scholarships and recognitions,
from the National Merit Scholarship on down, nicely
matching her birthday age, far outstripping those of any
other student. Among other things, she had assumed the
editorship of the moribund school newspaper, the
Whirlwind (a minor echo of the name of the school's
football team, the Hurricanes) and brought it up to second in
its class in the state. Not only had I not been doing any of
this for her, or even helping her, I had hardly been aware of
her school activities. It is not that I am a neglectful parent;

I will help if asked. Rather, I am busy with my own work,
and Cheryl is an independent cuss. I wonder where she
inherits that from?

About this time I began to get a glimmer of something.
Just as the revelation of the identity of the new Incarnation
of Good came only at the very end, and by surprise, so did
the revelation of the good that was associated with this
novel come to me. The final impetus was not for me, but for
my daughter. Perhaps I should have seen it coming, as it
seems obvious in retrospect, but I was somehow blind to it
beforehand. Parents typically seek to vindicate themselves
through their children. I wasn't even in the top half of my
graduating high school class, 36 years ago; I was a complete
nonentity. My wife did better, but married me instead of
completing college. We had five babies, the first three of
which died at birth, and the fourth was learning-disabled.

Cheryl was the last. So the scholastic proof of our family
lay in her success—and what a success it turned out to be!
Often when I attend public functions, I am the center of
attention; this time I was glad to be known as Cheryl's
father.

When we moved to the forest in 1977, not only did we
try to preserve the trees there, we planted five hundred
more. These were red cedars, which we bought from the
state forestry department as seedlings and planted around
our border. About three quarters of them died in the first
year, but we still have a generous hundred surviving, some
of them now fifteen feet tall, some still under a foot tall. I
discovered one that was growing well, but it was being
crowded out by a laurel oak sapling that intercepted most of
its light. Now the laurel oak is a nice tree, and we like it, but
this one was in the wrong place. If I left it, my cedar would
in due course die. So I got my axe and chopped down the
laurel oak.

I felt horribly guilty doing that. Here was a nice tree,
minding its own business, cut down in the prime of its
youth. I had taken a life, for a reason that neither that tree
nor the one I had saved would understand. I had played
God, deciding which one was to be saved and which one
was to perish. It was true that there were thousands of laurel
oaks and only a few cedars. Still, was it right for me to
condemn to death one in favor of the other?

This bothered me for several days—indeed, it bothers
me now, a year and a half after the event. I take life
seriously wherever I encounter it. Yet such decisions are
necessary all the time. Every time I eat, something is
perishing. I don't eat meat, because I prefer not to take a life
unnecessarily—but what of the plants I eat? This has been
a lifelong concern of mine, and the guilt never quite fades.
In order to live, I must kill other living things. I don't like
it, and I suspect I shall never truly come to terms with it.

Now take the concept of God. Mine differs from that of
most of my readers, but for the sake of this discussion, let's
assume that there is a God, and His (Her) nature is




378              Piers Anthony

somewhere in the ballpark of that described in this novel.
Every day, every hour, every minute. He must make
decisions, choosing between lives, because of an overall
picture that we mortals can hardly understand. How much
pain must there be in every one of those decisions! He must
not have it all His own way, any more than I as a novelist
have my fiction all my own way. I joy and suffer as I deal
with fictional characters, trying to put together a significant
whole. How much worse it would be if they truly lived and
the fates I decreed for them were real! Yet God must handle
real lives.

I think I can understand how He, after centuries of such
effort, reaping the praise of those whose only interest is to
get ahead of their neighbors, and the condemnation of those
whose selfish interest He declines to endorse—while the
world slowly deteriorates because of their ignorance and
rapacity—might finally just tune out. What is the average
prayer, other than an appeal for some unwarranted advan-
tage? The engines quit on an airplane, and the passengers
pray for deliverance, not because they are benefiting the
cosmos, but simply because they don't want to die. They
seldom express much genuine interest in doing His will, just
their own. They continually put their own words in His
mouth: God wants you to contribute to this church. God
considers you a sinner if you don't do what I say. He might
not want to destroy the world He had labored so imperfectly
to perfect, but neither would He want to continue with a
futile effort. I can see how He could get disgusted and
conclude that it was best to simply let the world wend its
way to Hell in its own fashion. I really couldn't blame Him.
Could you?

But I see no salvation in tuning out the world. So, in the
end, I do feel that reform is necessary, and this novel
represents a suggestion of the kind of action required. I
believe it bears consideration.

JeJune 17, 1988