So Robin did. They were three or four hundred meters from the snake. Every few minutes there would be more slithering, and another fifty meters would emerge from the tunnel. There was no sign Nasu was about to run out of meters.
There came a time when the head was no more than two meters away. Robin knew what came next, and braced herself for it.
The great tongue came out. It touched her lightly on her forearms, flirted briefly with the textures of her clothing, flicked over her hair.
And it was all right.
The tongue was moist and cool, but not unpleasant. And in that moment of touching, Robin somehow knew the snake remembered her. The touch of the tongue seemed to pass some sign of recognition from Nasu to Robin. I know you.
Nasu moved again, the great head lifted slightly off the floor, and Robin found herself in a semi-circle of white snake higher than her head. One fearful yellow eye regarded her with reptilian speculation, yet she was not afraid. The head tilted a little...
Robin remembered something Nasu had liked. She had sometimes rubbed Nasu on the top of the head, with her forefinger. The snake would rise to it, coil around her arm, and present herself for more.
She reached up and, with both fists, rubbed the smooth skin on top of Nasu's head. The snake made a relatively small hissing sound-no worse than an ocean liner coming into port-and retreated. The tongue touched her again, and Nasu moved around her from the other side and tilted her head the other way for more rubbing.
Cirocco moved slowly up to join them. Nasu watched placidly.
"Okay," Robin said, quietly. "I've talked to her. Now what?"
"Obviously, this is more than an anaconda," Cirocco began.
"Obviously."
"I don't know what changed her. Diet? Low gravity? Something, anyway. She's adapted to living underground. I've spotted her two or three times, bigger each time, and she's stayed out of my way. I have reason to believe she's a lot more intelligent than she was."
"Why?"
"A friend told me she might be. The next time I saw Nasu, I told her to meet me here in Dione if she wanted to be with her old friend again. And here she is."
Robin was impressed, but beginning to be suspicious.
"So what's the purpose?"
Cirocco sighed.
"You asked me what evil is. Maybe this is. I've thought about it a long time, but I'm afraid I can't get much of a handle on what might seem an evil thing to a snake. I don't think she loves Gaea. And anyway, all I can do is suggest. The rest is up to you, and her."
"Suggest what?"
"That you ask her to follow us to Hyperion, to slay Gaea."
TWENTY-SEVEN
Nova looked up at Virginal and tried to conceal her disappointment.
"Are you tired? Is that it?"
"No," Virginal said. "I ... just don't feel like running today."
"Not feeling good?" Nova couldn't remember any Titanide complaining of so much as a headache. They were disgustingly healthy. Short of broken bones or major internal injuries, not much could keep a Titanide down.
It was her right, of course. Nova had no illusions of owning Virginal, or even of having a claim on the Titanide's time. But it had been a thing they did regularly since coming to Bellinzona. Nova would pack a huge picnic lunch and they would gallop off to some remote, scary, mountainous place, Nova clinging for her life yet knowing she was in little danger. They would eat, talk of this and that, Nova would nap while Virginal had her dream-time.
At first, they had done it faithfully, once every hectorev. As Nova's responsibilities grew she had found less and less time for the outings. But it was her only real recreation, her only escape from the eternal, dreary numbers. Football bored her. She didn't drink.
"Well, maybe tomorrow then," she said, using the common Bellinzona term for "after my next sleep period."
To her surprise, Virginal hesitated, then looked away from her.
"I don't think so," she said, reluctantly.
Nova dropped the heavy pack on the wooden causeway and put her hands on her hips.
"Okay. There's something on your mind. I think I have a right to hear about it."
"I'm not sure you do," Virginal said. She looked pained. "Perhaps Tambura would like to go riding with you. I can ask her."
"Tambura? Why her? Because she's a baby?"
"She can bear you with no trouble."
"That's not the point, Virginal!" She pulled herself back from the edge of anger and tried again.
"Are you saying ... you don't want to ride with me today, tomorrow ... forever?"
"Yes," Virginal said, gratefully.
"But ... why?"
"It is not a 'why' thing," Virginal said, uncomfortably.
Nova tumbled the sentence around in her mind, trying to make sense of it. Not a 'why' thing. But there's always a why. Titanides were honest folk, but they did not always tell the whole truth.
"Don't you like me anymore?" Nova asked.
"I still like you."
"Then... if you can't tell me why, you can tell me what ... what's different. What's changed?"
Virginal nodded reluctantly.
"There is a thing," Virginal finally said. "Growing in your head."
Nova involuntarily put her hand to her forehead. She immediately thought of Snitch, and felt ice and spiders sliding on her skin.
But she couldn't have meant that.
"I thought it would quickly die," Virginal said. "But you are nourishing it now, and it will soon be too big to kill. I weep for this. I wish to say good-by to you now, before the thing consumes the Nova I have loved."
Once again, Nova tried very hard, and this time she came up with something.
"Does this have to do with my mother?"
Virginal smiled, pleased to have gotten through.
"Yes. Of course. That is the seed of it."
Nova felt the anger building again. She wondered if she would be able to restrain it this time.
"Listen, damn you, if Robin put you up to this-"
Virginal slapped her. It was quite a light slap for a Titanide. It didn't quite knock her over.
"It was Cirocco, wasn't it? She told you what I-"
Virginal slapped her again. She tasted blood. And she was crying.
"I'm very sorry," Virginal said. "I have my pride, too. No one is playing a trick on you. I would not allow myself to be the instrument of anyone's schemes for your reunion with your mother."
"It's none of your business!"
"That's exactly right. It's none of my business at all. You have your own life to lead, and you must do as you think best." She turned and started off.
Nova chased after her, grabbed her arm.
"Wait. Please wait, Virginal. Listen, I ... what can I do?"
Virginal stopped, and sighed.
"I know you don't intend to be impolite, but offering advice in a situation like this is considered rude by my people. I cannot chart a course for you."
"Make up with my mother, right?" Nova said, bitterly. "Tell her it's okay for her to ... to break every solemn vow... to consort with that..."
"I don't know if that would help you. I ... have said too much. Go to Tambura. She is young, and will not see the thing for a time. You can go for rides in the country with her."
"For a ... you mean other Titanides can-"
The enormity of the idea overwhelmed her. She felt naked. Were all her secret thoughts on display to every Titanide?
What do they see?
Virginal reached into her pouch and came up with a small flat piece of wood, the kind she often used for her carving.
It showed a girl, easily recognizable as Nova, sitting in a box with a stony expression on her face. Outside the box were others-Robin? Conal? Virginal?-not as distinct, but in attitudes of sorrow. Nova realized the box might be a coffin. But the girl inside was not dead. It made her feel sick, and she tried to hand it back.