"Of course, it isn't paved all the way. That would be sillier than usual, even for Gaea. There's no point in spreading blacktop over desert sands or on ice. One-third of Gaea is desert or frozen over. There we blasted paths when we could and left a series of way stations. If you ever get in trouble and come across a hut with the words Plauget Construction Company on the door, you'll know who put it there."
"How do you get wagons across the ice then?" Chris asked.
"Huh? Oh, the same way you do with any ice. Not that many people ever took wagons on the Circum-Gaea. You switch to a sleigh. You follow the frozen Ophion in Thea; it's about the only way through the mountains anyway. Oceanus is one big frozen sea, nice and flat, so that's no problem, if anything in Oceanus can be said to be no problem. In the deserts, you just find your way across as best you can. We made some oases."
Chris saw an odd expression on Gaby's face. It was a little wistful but mostly happy. He knew she was looking back fondly to the old days, and he hated to ask his next question. But he thought it was why she had been talking in the first place.
"Why did you build it?"
"Huh?"
"What's it for? You said yourself there was no demand for a road. There's been no maintenance and no traffic. Why build it?"
Gaby sat up from her usual position, facing the rear, leaning against Psaltery's back. Chris couldn't get used to the position; he liked to see where he was going. The problem, as Gaby had discovered long ago, was that a Titanide was too high and wide in the torso to see around.
"I did it because Gaea told me to. Hired me to, rather. I told you that."
"Yeah. You also said it was an unpleasant job."
"Not all of it," she pointed out. "The bridges were a challenge. I liked that. I wasn't a road builder-I wasn't even an engineer, though it wasn't hard to pick up the math-so I used a couple people from the embassy at first. For the first five-hundred kilometers I learned from them. After that I worked out my own solutions." She was silent awhile, then looked at him.
"But you're right. I didn't do it because I wanted to. I was paid, like I'm paid for all the work I do for Gaea. I'd have passed this one up, but the wages turned out to be too good."
"What was it?"
"Eternal youth." She grinned. "Or near enough to it. Rocky gets it free, for being the Wizard. I found out not too long after I got here that the offer didn't extend to me. So I worked out this arrangement with Gaea. I'm getting immortality on the installment plan. The thing about being a free-lance, you don't get the medical benefits of a salaried employee. If Gaea ever runs out of things for me to do, I'm washed up. I'll probably shrivel up in a day."
"You're not serious."
"No. I expect I'll just start to age. It might be more rapidly. But I've got this-hey, where's Rocky?"
Chris looked behind him, then realized Hornpipe had gone to the front to blaze trail. A fog had descended, further worsening the visibility. He could barely see Robin and Hautbois, and Hornpipe was completely swallowed in the mist.
Psaltery surged ahead, and Valiha quickened her pace to draw even with Hautbois. The two teams quickly caught Gaby, who was engaged in heated conversation with Hornpipe.
"She said she was going back to speak to you, and-"
"Are you sure, Hornpipe?"
"What are you... oh. I didn't, honest. She said she was going to ride with you for a while. She might be hurt. Perhaps she fell, and-"
"Not bloody likely." Gaby scowled and rubbed her forehead. "You can stay here, backtrack a little, see if you can find her. The rest of us will go on. I'm pretty sure I know where she is."
Machu Picchu perched high above the layer of cottony clouds. It was possible to stand on the front porch of the Melody Shop, lit by the incredible celestial spotlight, and look out over a vast sea of mist that stretched between the highland cliff ramparts, north to south. It spilled from the invisible spoke mouth over Oceanus and came tumbling over Hyperion. In places updrafts had rolled themselves into fluffy, hollow tubes as they passed into higher and thus slower-moving regions of the atmosphere. The tubes were cyclonic disturbances set on edge and attentuated until they looked like toppled tornadoes. They were called mistrollers. Occasionally violent storms came out of Oceanus, and those were called steamrollers.
Chris stood watching the clouds while the others went in searching for Cirocco. Presently he heard the sound of glass breaking and a heavy object hitting the floor. Someone shouted. He heard feet pounding up a staircase, pursued by the odd sound of Titanide hooves on carpet. After a while a door slammed, and the sounds ceased. He continued to watch the mist.
Gaby came out, holding a wet towel to her face.
"Well, it looks like we'll be here another day, getting her on her feet." She stood beside Chris, catching her breath. "Is anything wrong?"
"I'm fine," Chris lied.
"It was pretty slick, what she did," Gaby said. "She called Titantown with a radio seed she'd hidden. Nobody's sure what she said, but it sounded like she was in trouble because she told a friend to blimp in and wait for her beside the road. The fog was her doing. She told Gaea she needed some cover. She slipped away and joined up with the Titanide, who brought her here. She's been here three revs, which is time for a lot of drinking. So we'll have to ... hey, are you sure you're okay?"
He didn't have time for her questions. The fog was rearing up like a monstrous wave. There were foul beasts hiding in the basement. He could hear them. When he reached out blindly, he grabbed the blackened arm of a pale corpse who yammered, worms crawling from her mouth, reaching out for him... .
He began to scream.
20 Resumption
Robin looked up as Gaby joined her on the porch. She had been sitting on the steps, reading a yellowing manuscript she had found in Cirocco's study. It was a fascinating work, a description of the interactions of flora and fauna and ... the only word for them was undecided organisms, all living within a kilometer of the Melody Shop. It was not a scholarly book but was written in an economical style that Robin found wonderfully readable. The manuscript had been sitting atop a rolltop desk beside a shelf of books containing a dozen volumes authored by C. Jones.
"How are the patients?" Robin asked. Gaby looked haggard. She doubted the woman had slept since the encampment by the river ... how long ago? Two dekarevs? Three? Possibly she had not even slept then.
"Wrong verb," Gaby said, sitting beside her. "How is the patience? Yours."
Robin shrugged. "I'm not in a hurry. I'm broadening my mind. I had no idea the Wizard could write so well."
Gaby batted an imaginary fly in front of her face, looking sour.
"I wish you'd stop calling her the Wizard. It gives her too much to live up to. She's just a human being, like you."
"I know that ... maybe you're right. I'll stop."
"Well, I didn't mean to snap at you." She looked out over the lawn. "The patients are doing as well as can be expected. Chris has stopped screaming, but he's still curled up in the corner. Valiha can't get him to eat. Rocky's locked in her bedroom. All the booze went over the bridge, so far as I know. Of course, with an alcoholic, you are never sure. She could have it hidden anywhere." She put her face in her hands as if to rest for a moment. Robin saw her mouth twist and heard a pitiful sound. Gaby was crying.
"I have her locked up in her room," she managed to say between the hoarse sobs. "I can't believe it. I can't believe it's come to this. When she sees me, she curses. She pukes her guts out and sweats and shivers, and I can't do a thing about it. I can't help her."