Purpose:
A mechanism for systemic energy-transfer is perfected.
I stand in the doorway with Malachi, watching the massive pile-up on top of Ari. Tommy joins us. « Now everyone wants a piece of Ari, » he says.
« I’m sorry, Tommy. I tried to set you up with him.
« It’s just not my night. I could go for a bite to eat. Let’s go to the kitchen. »
Malachi consults the guide book. « The kitchen area is enormous, » he notes, « as it would need to be. The inhabitants of this palace threw dinner parties for up to two thousand people. According to Prince Yusupov’s memoirs, they held an ‘open household,’ meaning that literally anyone could come to dinner – from local peasants to leeching aristocrats. They never knew how many people would show up. »
« That’s chaos, » I murmured. « And a terrible security risk. Sooner or later, someone was bound to get assassinated. »
« Somebody was, » says Tommy, « by Prince Yusupov. »
« Kill them before they kill you is probably a viable strategy. It’s well to remember that Yusupov landed on his feet, more or less. »
« The kitchen is not quite original, » says Malachi. « They updated it during the Exploitation Era to be capable of servicing the site’s catering facilities. The wood burning, coal and gas appliances were converted to electricity to improve efficiency. »
We all have a good laugh over that.
« Also, » Malachi adds, « the butler’s pantry was transformed into the gift shop. »
« I want to see the gift shop. I want to see what sort of things are for sale in an imaginary palace inside of my husband’s mind. »
I grab the guidebook from Malachi. As I expected, the location of the gift shop is clearly indicated. Very clearly. The tour begins and ends there.
The former pantry is a cozy area with walls of tooled leather and silver. The right and left walls are lined with built-in cabinets which must have formerly held china and flatware. Now they display the wares of the shop, all reconstructed by Suibhne. Several of the cabinets hold the sort of tourist kitsch that has been hawked at travel spots since the time of the ancient Egyptians – silver charms, porcelain dishes, t-shirts, holographic projections – all bearing an image of the palace. Another cabinet contains Ancient Russian craft objects – embroidery and paintings, an enameled samovar, matryoshka dolls. Next to the dolls is an egg painted with an image of the Atlas Tree. I open it to find a caricature that was clearly meant to be Daniel; inside of it was Sloane, then Evan, all the way down to a tiny doll of Dermot.
Yet another cabinet holds a selection of sex toys; it was here that Malachi had found the blindfold. The cabinet to its left is something only Suibhne could’ve dreamed of – it contains handguns and small vials of cyanide. But the final display is the most curious: nothing but enameled boxes, each positioned on its own stand bearing a number from 1 to 101. Some of the stands have no boxes, but hold only a sign which said, “вскоре.”
« What’s in those boxes? » I ask.
« Surprises, » says Malachi. « Appropriate gifts for each emanation, I think. »
« I’ll take the set. How do I pay for it? »
« Suibhne will let you buy on credit, » Malachi tells me. « It’s not like he needs the money. »
« Second problem – how am I going to carry them all? »
« We’re inside of the pleroma. You don’t have to carry them at all. When you want one, just imagine it in your hand, and it will be there. »
I close my eyes, imagining the box above the pedestal marked “31.” I hand it to Malachi, urging him to open it. I want to see what’s inside.
Malachi flips open the cover. A tiny moth of vibrant blue-green energy floats out, hovers in mid-air, and then vanishes inside of Malachi’s mouth.
« Oh! » he exclaims. « It’s a different sort of a gift than I anticipated. »
He looks at the cabinet full of boxes. « Soon, » he says.
« What? »
« That’s what the signs say. I can understand them without accessing the communications grid or using translationsoft. »
He removes one of the guide books from the souvenir cabinet. « This one’s the foreign tourist edition. It’s the same text in Ancient English, French, Spanish and German. I can read all of them. A rather useful gift. »
I turn to Tommy. « Let’s wait on mine, » he says. « I got a feeling about it, kiddo. »
« The gifts can be given in moments of intimacy or desperate need, out of gratitude or whimsy, as an incentive or a reward, » says Malachi. « The only things you should not do are to spend them all at once, or to hoard them. The Mover is trusting in your intuition to bestow them at just the right moment. »
We continue to the kitchen. The guide book is no longer needed; we are steered by the marvelously appetizing scent. From inside the doorway, we can see Jamey at the stove, preparing traditional Dolparessan dishes of meats and fruits, cheeses, greens and fresh herbs. No seeds, grains or roots are used, to avoid disrupting the life cycle of the plants, which means there isn’t a floret of broccoli, carrot stick or quinoa muffin in sight. In short, it’s horrifically unhealthy for humans – and incredibly delicious.
Lorcan is leaning against a cool plaster wall. « I’ve always thought these were amusingly morbid, » he says, pointing at a suckling pig with a nau’gsh apple in its mouth.
« Don’t show that apple to Suibhne, » says Malachi. « He’ll have a fit about historical accuracy. »
« You could help, » Sloane says to Lorcan, picking up the platter with the pig. « We’re almost finished setting up. »
« You look like you’ve got it under control, » says Lorcan. « Besides, Seth isn’t working, either. »
« Seth is fine where he is, » calls Beat from an adjoining room.
Jamey removes a lusciously golden roast bird from the oven. « That’s the last of it, » says Sloane. He turns to me. « The buffet is in the inner courtyard. »
« Outside? Isn’t it a little cold for that? »
Sloane looks puzzled. « It’s a very nice day, » he says. « Much more temperate than Sideria, but hardly cold. »
I follow him to a hidden courtyard, tucked between the building walls of the left wing, and the walls of the columned courtyard. This little area is neatly appointed with wrought-iron furniture and canvas umbrellas.
« It’s not original, » observes Malachi. « The tourists could take lunch here. »
I’m starting to get a little nervous about how much time has passed. « From the feel of the air and the inclination of the sun, I would guess it was late afternoon, near the end of summer. But when I went out the entrance from the basement, it was a winter night. »
« Of course it was, » says Malachi. « The catering kitchen exists in the Exploitation Era, but the basement is eternally fixed on the night of December 16th, 1916 O.S. » Then he guesses what’s really bothering me. « Don’t worry – when you return from the pleroma, it will still be the night before your departure for Dolparessa. »
In the middle of the courtyard, a buffet table is positioned. In the middle of the buffet table, Seth is positioned, completely naked, surrounded by roast meat, cheeses and heaps of seedless grapes. Jamey sets the capon in an empty spot near his feet.
« The history of gluttony as a sin is rather interesting, » comments Seth. « Originally, an interdiction during a time of scarcity because it was considered a transgression against one’s community to eat more than absolutely necessary whilst the neighbors were starving. As human civilization evolved, so did gluttony. The foods which the human body was calibrated to find absolutely appealing, rich sources of protein and energy, became suddenly available in quantity. Vegetable matter, which had no real appeal since it was always readily available and formerly consumed as the bulk of the human diet, fell out of fashion. Suddenly, gluttony became a transgression against the health care system. However, genework adjusting the metabolism has been available for over five centuries. In short, like its sister sin lust, once an interdiction against overpopulation and opportunistic infection, the practical aspects of a taboo against gluttony have faded. It is now time to recognize lust and gluttony for what they are – as expressions of healthy desire in a thriving individual. »
« You’ve missed the point entirely, » says Lorcan. « Sins have nothing to do with practicality. The idea is that anything enjoyable is a distraction from the soul’s communion with God. »
« That’s as stupid as saying I shouldn’t enjoy this chik-henn because it will interfere with my n’aashet n’aaverti, » says Tommy, placing a plump morsel of bird in his mouth.
« It’s exactly the same thing, » says Seth. « The theological conception is that the delights of the universe are created as a temptation from the true and legitimate source of desire. »
« Any god with that attitude is a messed up fucker with bigger insecurity problems than Ailann, » says Tommy. « Besides, n’aashet n’aaverti isn’t just a virtue – it’s a fact of life. Tara is the center of existence. Any god that can be trumped by a slice of redberri torte isn’t much of a god. »
« Redberri torte is one thing, chocumber soufflé is another, » I reply. « Speaking of which, is Seth supposed to be the dessert? »
« I would be honored, » says Seth, « although I must state a preference for vampirism over cannibalism. »
« You would. Honestly, I’ve never understood the appeal. »
« It’s not about the blood, » says Seth, although there is a certain fetishization. « It’s really about the life-force. The drinking of blood becomes a substitute for a certain type of sexual activity. »
« I get it, » says Tommy. « Eat me, drink me, whatever. »
« No, you don’t, » says Seth. « Bodily fluids simply become a ready matrix for a psychospiritual force, in the same way that animal and plant bodies can function as a matrix for nul-energy. »
« Actually, » says Beat, « the dessert is upstairs. »
« I was only kidding. This is a magnificent meal. Everything is wonderful. In fact, I want to reward Sir James for his excellent cooking. But since he’s already a knight, I’ll have to give him something else. »
I envision the ninth box, and it appears in my hand. I open the lid, and a second moth flits into Jamey’s mouth.
Thank you, says Jamey.
« What? »
I said thank you. It appears that you heard it somehow.
« Telepathy? »
« No, » says Malachi. « Telepathy can only be accomplished by suppressing the subconscious mind, allowing the telepath to hear the thoughts of others. But you can’t hear Tara’s thoughts, can you, Jamey? »
No. It seems that you can hear mine.
« It must be telesending. I’d heard that CenGov was experimenting with it. The idea is to get the sender to produce a sort of bioenergy transmission that will seem louder than the target’s own thoughts. »
I can keep silence, notes Jamey. I have to will the communication. I intended to thank you using GSSL, but my thought reached you first.
« Well, that’s a useful gift, especially when you have to communicate with people who don’t understand sign language, » says Tommy.
« It means something else, » says Lorcan. « It means that I and I doesn’t want Jamey to be silent anymore. »
« I don’t understand, » adds Sloane. « Why not just let Jamey talk – especially since he can sing so beautifully? »
« Sound produces a vibration, » says Beat. « It’s my nature to produce all kinds of sound. But Jamey…»
« Jamey is pure, » finishes Lorcan. « He’s the white knight. Maybe Seth knows more about it. »
« What did you mean when you said you produced sound? » Tommy asks. « Were you talking about your drums? »
« It was actually supposed to be a weapon against the Denolin Turym, but I only used it once. Atlas hadn’t connected up yet, so you may not know about it. »
« Yeah, » says Tommy, scratching his head. « I heard that you got eaten alive. So I didn’t actually check it out in your branch. Sorry. »
« Don’t. There’s no need for anyone else to have to experience that. I can also use sound for pollination. But if you really want to go rooting around in my branch, I suggest the first cross-pollination experiment. »
Tommy snickers. « I’ve actually, um, already been there. About a dozen times. »
Beat’s face registered a moment of surprise. Lorcan laughs and says, « If there’s any sex going on, Tommy knows about it. If you want the good stuff, ask him. »
Speaking of the good stuff, says Jamey, we should go upstairs for dessert.
« You’re serious about the dessert? »
It’s the best part of the meal.
« He actually means the third floor, » says Beat. « We can take the utility stair. »
« What’s on the third floor? » I ask Malachi.
« Third floor? It’s not in the guidebook, » says Malachi. « It was never on the tour. There’s a vague mention that it held the children’s rooms, a chapel and the servant quarters. »
« You’ll see, » says Beat. « It looks like Suibhne just put whatever he wanted up there. »
I follow them up the tiny, unprepossessing staircase. It opens onto an area that has been decorated like a seraglio: an enormous bed, walls covered with crimson velvet curtains, floors strewn with richly colored silks and furs, and an adjoining area which holds a Turkish bath.
At last, someplace comfortable!
Mickey stands in the doorway to the bath. « Oh, we stumbled onto this, » he says. « It seemed much nicer for our scene than the fountain downstairs, so I came up here with Lens and Lucius and Valentin. »
« Dessert, » Seth announces, ringing a bell. « A vampiric dessert. »
« A what? »
Beat carries in an enormous covered platter, and sits it upon a table of heavy brass work. Jamey lifts off the cover with a flourish. And it’s…
Dessert.
Delicious looking pastries, ices and ice creams, pies, cakes, cookies, custard filled cups, jam-covered tarts, trifles, bombes, mousses, candies and truffles.
Every one of them colored, in part or whole, a shocking electric blue or green.
Seth pours the wine, a thick aqua nectar. « A most special nau’gsh wine, made from all our apples, » he explains. It’s amazing, rich and sweet. I don’t need anything else. But Jamey has put such work into the desserts – how could he possibly have made all this tonight?
Which shall I try?
« All of them, » says Seth. « The theme is gluttony. »
It’s overwhelming. I think I’d better start light. I choose a petit-four, dipped in chocumber and decorated with elaborate swirls of blue frosting. Elegant and yet adorable, the little cake is almost too pretty to eat. I take a bite. It’s exquisite: rich, moist, silky on the tongue, its flavors – nau’gsh marmalade and vanilla buttercream – magnificently balanced. It’s perfect. It’s…
Patrick appears in the doorway. « I felt an irresistible urge to come up here, » he says.
« Of course you did, » I reply, pulling him down on the bed. « I’m suddenly quite hungry. »
« Vampirism, » says Seth. « The absorption of energy from one being into another. But since the Mover has access to a near-limitless supply of energy to transform into His own being, there is no way that you can possibly sap or drain Him. Every time you eat our fruit, or engage in a sex act with us, you absorb more nul-energy from the Mover, energy which subtly improves your ability to resonate with His consciousness. These acts performed within the pleroma are more effective since the physical vehicles form no barrier to energy absorption. »
Lorcan indicates the platter. « Eat us. Fuck us. Taste our souls. »
My legs are wrapped around Patrick; I don’t want to stop. But I want to taste more.
« Who do you want next? » asks Lorcan.
« Tommy. »
« Tommy, » Lorcan repeats. « Why the hell doesn’t Tommy have a Gold Card? »
Because Tara likes him too much, says Jamey. Because I and I is afraid that if Tommy got a Gold Card too soon, no one else would ever have a chance. So He sets up the circumstances to avoid it.
« That’s interesting, » says Lorcan.
« That sucks, » I reply.
« It’s true, » says Malachi. « But that means when Tara finally realizes that she’s in love with Tommy, it will be ridiculous. »
Tommy shrugs. « I told you, it’s not my night. »
Tommy brings me what looks like a simple chocolate cookie with a dollop of blue jam on top. But when I taste it, the chocumber has a bit of chili, and the jam is spiked with nau’gsh wine, and it’s altogether a lot more interesting than it seems on the surface.
Patrick rolls off, nestles next to me as Tommy climbs between my legs. Are they serious? Am I going to do all of them?
Beat is a warm nau’gsh pandowdy, Seth is a Skarsian archbishop slice with javajuice crème and mooniberri-nau’gsh puree, Lorcan is a nau’gsh spice cake with kasmilcrème fraiche, and Jamey is a bowl of fresh nau’gsh with honey-ginger sauce, refreshing after all that rich sweetness.
After Lens hands me an enormous shortcrust pastry called a schneeballen, dusted with nau’gsh powder, I need a break. « Do you think we could convince the last two groups to move their scenes up here? »
« I think Cillian’s group would be willing, » says Malachi. « I can go get them. »
Mickey hands me a bowl of nau’gsh shave ice with lychee sorbet and cendol. « Try me, » he suggests, « for something lighter. »
It’s cool, sweet, and goes down easy. « Very appropriate, » I murmur, pulling him onto the bed.
Result of Stress-test 7:
A breakthrough in energy-transfer is reached. It is clear that Tara is far more motivated to consume nau’gshtamine amide-t when it is contained in an appetizing sweet than she is to drink therapeutic bottles of juice. Furthermore, the dessert serves as an effective aphrodisiac, especially when nau’gsh is combined with chocumber. In the future, a supply of appropriate confections will be provided to each branch upon emanation.