He sighed, and leaned back. Nova had watched in fascination, not getting a lot of it, such as the part about Qubeheads and niggers. She hadn't the vaguest notion of what either of those might be. And why did he bring skin color into it? What did that have to do with anything?
"How would you suggest I go about this? Should you and I make sex?"
He threw up his hands.
"I'm hurt I really am. You think I said all that just to get in your pants?"
"I'm ... sorry. I don't know what I said wrong, though."
He looked tired.
"I guess you don't, do you? All right. Can you take honesty and not get angry? I'd love to 'make sex' with you. I was offended because, where I grew up, guys will say just about anything to get girls to go to bed with them, and here I am being so stinking noble it makes me sick, so it hurt me you thought it was all a line. But you were serious, weren't you?"
"Yes. I'll do it, if it's what has to be done."
"Kinder words have never been spoken to me."
"Did I offend again? I'm sorry."
He grinned.
"You're getting better at that. I appreciate it. Shows you're trying. Listen, Nova, you ought to talk this over with your mother. She figured out how to do it. But if you want my opinion, you should do what I did when Cirocco started straightening me out. I was a right 'orrible stinking bigot when I got here. I'm not perfect, but I'm better. So when I thought 'Frog,' or 'Qubehead,' I changed it to 'Canadian'. When I thought 'black,' I changed it to 'white'. So when you hear 'man,' change it to 'woman'. When you look at a person and think 'Titanide,' change it to 'sister'. When you think about Adam, pretend he's your baby sister. Think how you'd feel."
She thought about it, and was amazed at her rage. It went away quickly-it was only a trick, after all-but it was interesting to think of how the world would be if those things were true.
"Can I check an impression I have?" he asked. She nodded. "You find me ... physically repulsive, don't you."
And another amazing thing happened. She felt herself blushing.
"I don't wish to offend ... "
"I'd prefer honesty."
She nodded, uncomfortably. "You have too much hair. Your chin is so rough, I think it would be painful to be kissed by you. Your arms and legs are ... wrong. Do these things ... attract Earth women?"
He grinned again.
"They have been known to."
"And you find me ... attractive," she said.
"More than that. You are stunning. You're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen."
Nova shook her head in wonder.
"It's a funny world," she said.
"What's wrong? Do lesbians have different ideas of beauty?"
"I don't know. In the Coven, I was freakishly tall. No one thought me beautiful." She looked at him again. "Is it true that men don't find extreme height unattractive?"
"Not in Artillery Lake," Conal chuckled. "Swear to God, after Cirocco Jones, I rate you number two."
"Now you're being ridiculous," she sniffed. She might have said more, but the radar alarm went off, and Cirocco was directing them on a new heading.
FIFTEEN
It was a shock to them all to discover that the thing which had Adam was not an angel. At least, if it was an angel, then a zombie was a human.
Cirocco cursed quietly as she studied it with her binoculars. Chris couldn't take his eyes off the thing. But when Cirocco handed him the binoculars he had to force himself to look.
His worst fears were not realized. Studying Adam, he couldn't see the bites of deathsnakes. Cradled in those repulsive arms, head hanging down, dark hair blowing in the wind, Adam was taking a snooze.
Chris had to lower the glasses and stop his trembling hands. He looked through them again and confirmed to a certainty what his heart already knew: the child was alive. Twice Chris saw Adam's mouth open and close, as though chomping, and he could see the tiny chest rise and fall.
Finally he was able to turn his attention to the zombie-angel.
It was a very old one. He couldn't see any skin remaining. There was just the skeletal framework, the feathers, and the networks of deathsnakes holding it together.
Robin was getting insistent, so he handed her the binoculars.
Cirocco let out a deep breath.
"Okay. That's why we didn't find it at first. It's flying faster than a live angel could. We're almost to Cronus."
Chris wanted to scream. He wanted to shout a thousand stupid questions, run in circles, bay at the moon. He swallowed it all. Remain calm, remain calm. Locate the fire exits. Move in an orderly manner. Don't lose your balance, put your head between your knees if you feel faint ... and think. Think!
"Any ideas?" Cirocco said. Chris listened to the dead silence, both in the plane and over the radio.
"All right," Cirocco said. "Priorities. Number one, we do nothing to endanger him. Conal, we're going to drop back a little bit so there's no chance we'll disturb the air currents. How does two hundred meters sound?"
"It's okay with me, Cirocco," Conal's voice came back.
"Ideas?" she asked again.
"W-w-what if he, uh, drops him?" Chris managed to say.
"That's not an idea, that's a situation." She frowned, and thought about it for a while. "Okay. I'm going to drop down about a kilometer and stay slightly behind him. Conal, you stay where you are. If you see the baby fall, I want to hear about it a tenth of a second later. I'll jump out and get him."
Parachutes! Chris thought. Something was wrong with him, he should have thought of that. He turned around and scrambled along the gear in back, looking for them. Only it couldn't be Cirocco, that was crazy, it had to be-
"Sorry, Cirocco," Conal said.
Cirocco looked amazed for a moment.
"What the hell do you mean, 'Sorry, Cirocco'?"
"It won't work," Conal said. "For one thing, the Captain doesn't leave her ship. That must have slipped your mind. But even if you could, you have to fly it."
"Chris can fly it!"
"Sorry again, Cirocco. He told me he's getting too big."
Bless him, Chris thought.
"He's right, Cirocco," Chris said, quickly. He was clipping his parachute-a fabric tube about the size of a tightly rolled umbrella-to the rings on his flak suit.
"That's crazy," Cirocco said. "You just move the lousy seat back and-" He looked right at her.
"I've forgotten how to fly," he said. She kept staring at him, and he was able to return it calmly. Finally she sighed, and nodded.
"All right. Now-"
"I should be the one," Robin said.
"God damn it! Who's the-"
"I've done some free-falling," Robin said, raising her voice slightly. "Chris hasn't. I'd have a better chance of getting to him."
"He's my responsibility," Chris said, with a meaningful look at Robin.
"I'm better trained," Robin shot back.
Cirocco looked from one to the other with fire in her eye.
"Anybody else going to put in their two-cent's worth?" she asked.
"I'll do it," came Nova's voice. "I've done twenty times as much parachuting as Robin. I was the Coven champion two years ago."
"Well blow me down," Cirocco muttered, then raised her voice. "All right, enough of this. We're all grandstanding and we're not getting anything done. Conal, you stay right where you are."
"You got it, Captain."
"Robin, Chris, if we get the word, you both go."
They got chutes rigged, and outlined the procedure for opening the plane and jumping. Robin worked the door latch a few times and pushed the door open just to make sure she could do it quickly.