Ailann wants me back in the pleroma; this time, I concur. Since we’ve rounded up the treacherous agents, the problems in Universe Prime seem to have stopped. But we still have no idea who was behind them or why – and my intuition says that the answer lies with Ash, with the crazy scramble to obtain sparks and produce emanations. Since he’s so close to completion, maybe that’s what we should do – then, we might get some answers.
Ailann meets me in Daniel’s room. « It occurred to me that we’d never collected any sparks at Shambhala, » he says. « As it turns out, Balin also has a pool attached to his residence. We’ll be able to inspect the roots of Ashvattha from there. » In the lobby of the Atlas Tower, we run into Cillian and Callum, returning from the latest venture into the pleroma. They are with a new man – introduced as Bastien – and that guy who was swimming around in the cenote – what was his name? I’m a little distracted because they are accompanied by a unicorn.
A pink unicorn, totally pink from its mane to its tail to the tip of its horn. A pink unicorn wreathed in white flowers. Somehow, I manage to emit the most embarrassing squealy noise I’ve ever made in my life, and rush up, throwing my arms around it. I can’t help myself. Maybe I’m as lusty as they think I am, but I kiss the horn. Well, it’s so much like a pink icicle that I lick it, actually.
The lobby is filled with a brilliant pink light as unicorn explodes into a dazzling sphere of energy. When my vision clears, the unicorn is gone, and a centaur is in its place. His hair, beard and tail are all pink, and a voice is announcing:
“Thorne of Seachange, Grand Floribundance and Herb-Strewer. 98th to emanate, 51 in the color scale, resonates to 233. 1.892 meters tall, cock size 20.09 cm when erect, apparent age 24. Florist. Totem is Lagerstroemia indica, the crape myrtle, fixed stars are Alsciaukat, the thorn and Thorn of the Climbing Rose. Esoteric symbol is the Etruscan letter 
. Dessert is nau’gsh rose gelatina. Function is establishing gravity, proto-conscious tendency is purity, designated Stainless. Blazon is argent, a unicorn statant, crape myrtle.”
« That was a quick promotion, » grumbles Cillian.
Davy and Malachi come down on the hilift. « That was #82: “Metamorphose.” And Briscoe says his spark went into the mandala. »
« This whole thing is too weird, » says Davy. « He didn’t hatch out of an egg, or even need a mirror. »
« That’s it? » I sputter? « A centaur? Not that I’m complaining, but…I mean, centaurs are nice, but I liked the unicorn, and, well, neither is really practical in the Domha’vei… »
« He’s literally hung like a horse, » says Cillian incredulously.
« I’m kinda wondering how he’s gonna… » Davy begins.
The mothman has two penises, so anything could happen, really.
« I was thinking the same thing, and it had better not involve ketchup, » agrees Cillian.
I don’t know what the ketchup thing is about, but I’m not sure I like the sound of it.
« It said he was a florist, » whispers Malachi. « And I thought Merrick was a dark lord. »
« Wait, who’s Merrick? »
« I can’t believe you’re losing track of your husbands, » says Davy, wagging a finger.
Malachi shoots Davy a dirty look. « Give Thorne his gift, » he suggests.
It’s worth a try. A small wooden gift box marked 51 appears in my hand. When I open it, a moth flies out and lands on Thorne’s tongue.
Thorne disappears into a flash of pink light. And then, mercifully, he’s a naked man with lilac pink hair. There’s another flash of pink light, and Thorne is a unicorn again. Then another, and he’s a pink squirrel. Then another, and he’s a man. « It’s the gift of transformation, » he says. « I can use it outside of the pleroma too…sort of. I can’t transform there, but I can emanate into my human form, centaur form, or any species of animal I choose. »
« A fucking pink squirrel, » says Cillian. « Remember back in the day when we thought a conifer was weird? Tannon, I apologize. Conifers are perfectly normal. Having a chip in your head is perfectly normal. Biting Tara and demonic rites, I’m not convinced. A squirrel. A squirrel? Okay, we’ve hit an all-time low. »
« I’m not a squirrel, » Thorne sniffs. « I’m a metamorph and a florist. »
« Well, Thorne, let’s get you something to wear, » says Malachi, changing the subject.
« Wear? »
« Yes, clothing. Look around – we all wear clothing. »
« Why? It looks uncomfortable. »
« You just have to wear clothing that suits you, » says Malachi. « I could never feel comfortable in a military uniform, and Cillian would feel just as uncomfortable in my suit. »
« But those things…trousers…don’t they make your balls itch? »
« We don’t discuss the male mysteries in front of Tara, ponyboi, » says Cillian gruffly.
Thorne stares at Cillian. « And if the cock-size statistics are accurate, how do you even fit into… »
Quennel dashes out from Daniel’s room. « Here – why don’t you try something from my loungewear collection? A robe, perhaps? » He throws a silky confection from the hilift platform.
It wafts downward until Thorn plucks it from the air. « I could live with this, I suppose. Do you have it in pink? »
Ailann’s entourage accompanies us to Ashvattha Isle: Cillian, Ellery, Harsh, Darius, Callum and the new man, Bastien. « Bastien doesn’t seem like your type, » I comment.
« Oh, he’s Cillian’s. Not that I won’t get my use out of him. »
Unlike Ailann, Balin’s residence more closely resembles a human home than a temple. Surprisingly, it isn’t the largest of the suites in the Ashvattha Palace – that honor seems to be shared, curiously enough, by the two frontal suites occupied by Prem on the left and Ishan, whom I’ve never met, on the right. The compound is accessed by a path leading from the central atrium of the palace through a sumptuous tropical garden. Balin’s living space is not attached to the body of the palace – it’s a marble pavilion with a gold-encrusted dome located near the back of the compound. The bulk of the space is an outdoor terrace occupied by a long pool with enclosures on either end: one houses a triangular fire pit with a raised brazier; from the hemispherical dome roofing the other, a curtain of water spills into the pool. The enclosures are flanked by statues of griffins – the fire griffins have their wings upraised; the water griffins have their wings folded. The overall impression is of tasteful opulence, whereas Ailann’s pool feels pristine and sacred.
Balin is waiting for us, accompanied by Davy, Malachi, Hollis and Julian, with his huge musical instrument. Ostensibly, he’s there to lure in the proper sparks, but I sense a great likelihood that Ailann will make a play for him.
« Over there, » says Ellery. He points toward the enclosed pond beyond the waterfall. Ashvattha’s roots seem to be clustered in that area only, and I get the impression from the seating around the fire-pit that the rest of the pool is quite suitable for recreation – very different from Ailann indeed.
The sparks are also very different from the ones I’ve seen before. Rather than swirling, they seem to pulse as Julian begins to play, emerging like stars in the early evening, hanging like constellations against the silvery wood.
But Davy is not so impressed. « No good. »
« How can you say that? They’re beautiful! »
« Didn’t I tell you not to be superficial? Look at them! They’re white. Every last one. »
« But we really should have some from Shambhala, » I protest.
« We’ve already got a white one and an off-white one, » says Malachi. « See if you can find pale gray – that’s one we need. »
Julian continues to play. I sit on the edge of the pool, dangling my feet in the water. A spark swims out from under the waterfall, pulsing excitedly. As he approaches me, the water practically throbs. « Look at him go. I’ll just bet he’s a good lay. »
Another one rises to the top and moves first towards me, then to where Malachi is standing. He gives the impression of being curious, of carefully investigating. « Sorry fellow, but you’re too pale, » Malachi says. “We need gray. It isn’t very gray…if you were just a little bit gray, we could work something out… »
The pulsing entity near me leaps out of the water, apparently in a bid to get my attention. He leaps several times, each time higher, spinning in the air as he does so.
« Look, he’s acrobatic. I want him. »
« Tara, it just won’t work, » says Malachi. « Especially now, we have to be selective. »
Then the entity near Malachi rolls – literally rolls – across the surface of the pond, heading for the fire end. « I’ll say this for them – they’re energetic, » observes Ailann.
« Hey, what the fuck is he doing? » asks Cillian. « Am I gonna have to get Stavros up here to bounce him out? »
The entity jumps out of the pool, bounces across the stone terrace and finally lands in the brazier. It hops several times, stirring up a small dust cloud in the ashes.
« He’s a dirty boy, » says Callum, giggling.
« He’s cheating, » says Harsh.
« He’s making a mess, » says Balin.
« The minute he goes back into the water, that junk is going to wash off., » protests Davy.
« He’s not after the ashes, » Malachi realizes. « He’s after the fire. »
Upon closer observation, I can see that the fire springs directly from the ashes – there’s no wood for it to burn. « That’s not fire, » says Ailann. « That’s nul-energy. »
« He’s using it to change the properties of his own energy, » says Malachi. « I didn’t know that was possible. Although there is a precedent – Benbow was able to alter his coloration to match what we needed. »
« Benbow is a freakin’ weirdo, » says Davy.
« My gut says this one will be a good soldier, » says Cillian. « Not like a fucking unicorn or something. »
« I agree, » says Hollis. « He’s eager, intelligent and cooperative. As long as Tara approves… »
« I think he’s cute. And I think this one here is really cute. » I point at the one in the water in front of me, still flipping and spinning.
« I don’t think it’s happening, » says Malachi. « Nudging energy from white to gainsboro is one thing – but the final color we need is crimson. »
« Well, in that case…Callum, can I see your knife? » It’s an outrageous idea, but I really like this little guy. I think, in his own alien energy kind of way, he’s trying to hump my leg.
Callum removes a knife from his boot and prostrates himself before me. I take the knife from his outstretched hands and press the blade against my finger. When Callum sees the blood, he moans in distress. He’s probably not sure whether to be excited, honored or mortified that I would use his knife to cut myself. I let the blood collect into a little bead, then drop it onto the leaping entity. My hunch is right – he’s dyed bright red.
Hollis and Malachi peer at the pulsing entity intently. « He’s not faking it, » Malachi concludes. « He’s incorporating Tara’s blood into the pattern of his own energy. »
« He’s irreparably stained, » murmurs Hollis. « I’m so jealous. »
« Crimson or not, I’m calling him Fairchild, » says Davy. « The dustball is Haight. »
When we return to Atlas, Daniel’s flat is full of emanations. In fact, it looks like almost all of them are here. « What’s going on? »
« Everyone wants to witness the completion of the pleroma, » says Ailann.
We squeeze through to the bed; Cillian boosts me up into the cave, which is also full of men. The crowd is densest around the cenote. Davy is right behind me with his nets; he releases the sparks one after the other, first the gray and then the red. I was wondering if they would transform immediately into an emanation the way that Thorne did, but no such luck. Instead, the blue flame on the surface of the pool flares up, and the air seems charged with electricity.
« I felt it, » says Cillian. « I’m not sure what it means. »
« I feel relieved, » says Daniel. « Isn’t that it? Relieved. »
« Like we pulled something off – got away with something big time, » says Wynne.
« We don’t have to be ashamed anymore, » says Ellery.
« Before we discovered the truth about our nature, we were nagged by a feeling of incompleteness, insufficiency, inadequacy, » says Driscoll. « Then once we knew, we realized how horribly lopsided we were. Deformed. Unbalanced. »
« I never thought of Ash that way, » I reply, appalled. Is that what this was all about?
Ace raises his hand in a thumbs-up gesture. « Fake it until you make it, » he says.
Briscoe is staring into the water. « Only four of them. They’re so lonely. »
Four? That can’t be right.
I was trying to tell you when Lord Danak interrupted, says Jamey.
« The penguins did it, » says Rand. « Except for Merrick. Seriously. »
The. Penguins. Did. It.
« It’s my fault, » Briscoe looks up suddenly, meeting my eyes. « I was derelict in my duty – I just couldn’t say no to dulce du leche. But don’t take it out on them, Tara! These are the only ones left. Couldn’t we emanate them? »
Oh good grief. I should’ve known that was coming.
I really should say no. But since we’ve already done what – like forty of them in a month? – will four more matter, more-or-less?
I’m talking about husbands. Yes, four more will matter!
But Briscoe is looking at me with big, sad eyes. And the truth is, I’m curious. « On one condition: since these are the last ones, I want to see it happen. »
« Great! » says Davy, clapping his hands together. « Now we just need the paintings from Driscoll. »
« I can’t, » he says. It isn’t a Driscoll-being-histrionic-for-effect tone of voice. It’s a dry, burnt-twig exhausted tone of voice. « I did my best on Thorne. It was a rush job. But I can’t do another right now. »
« We can’t afford to wait, » Davy insists.
« We can’t afford to screw up! » Driscoll snaps.
Tommy comes from behind, putting his arm around me. « Why don’t we grab some grub at that new diner in Yggdrasil? » he suggests. « Tara might enjoy that, and there’s nothing like grease and carbohydrates to get the creative juices flowing. »
It sounds reasonable to everybody but sulky Davy and distraught Driscoll. It takes Tommy and Hurley a while to convince them; when we arrive, the joint is already crowded. Dermot, Nash, Benbow and Solomon are sharing a table; Marius, Manan and Thomas are at another table with two emanations I don’t recognize.
« Hey, it’s my brother, » says Tommy. «’Sup, bro? I haven’t seen you in a while. »
« We thought we’d bring Dominic and Alexander, » says Thomas. « They’ve never been here before. »
« Neither have I, » I add. « It seems like a popular place. »
« Try the buttercado burger with extra salsa, » says Marius.
We sit at the table closest to them. The Jane Austin HPS is sitting in the corner behind a cup of steaming tea, furiously scribbling into a notebook. Tommy nods. « She’s no problem. But Nikola has discovered Owen’s lab, and he’s also discovered nul-energy, and sooner or later, he’s going to fry someone. »
« He’s already blown out three energy flux regulators, » adds Driscoll.
« I just make puppets, » says Davy. « I take no responsibility for what happens once they’re activated. Read the disclaimer. »
A chinstrap penguin wearing a poodle skirt rolls up on skates. « What can I get for you today? »
« I’ll try that buttercado burger, » says Tommy.
« Just a salad for me, thanks, » says Driscoll.
The restaurant is so quiet you can hear a pin drop.
« Only joking. I’ll take a carnivore’s delight on rye. »
I’m still scanning the menu. « What are Buffalo wings? »
« They’re like rambat wings, only bigger, » the penguin answers.
Driscoll is nervously fiddling with the condiment rack. « Look at this, » he says, handing me a bottle. It’s labeled “Merrick’s Xtra Krunchy Ketchup.”
« No thanks, » says Tommy. « I’ll take mine seedless. »
Thorne comes in and pulls up a few extra seats at our table. « I was hoping your presence might cheer up Jesse. » It’s the swimmer, and he does look terrible. Was he like this before? I was too distracted to notice – a pink unicorn has a way of commanding attention. « I think he’s depressed because he was hallucinating from a poison dart when he saw Templeton die, » Thorne continues.
« WHAT? »
« Aw, geez, » mutters Tommy. « Don’t tell her that. »
« It’s not important, » says Davy. « Not really. All’s well that ends well, right? »
« This is all right? He looks like he’s been in a war zone. »
« Um, » says Hurley.
« He’s just having a hard time wrapping his head around what happened, » says Driscoll. « He’s still human. »
« That’s it, » I decide. « He’s got to get an achievement. Better to spend our time doing that than eating junk food, waiting for Driscoll to feel inspired. »
« Curfling, » says Tommy.
« Curfling? »
« Achievement #91: “Win a medal at curfling.” We’ve got three unrecognized emanations here in New Merenis. Let’s stage a competition. »
I’m about to tell Tommy that it’s a self-serving idea – Tommy is really into curfling – when the light returns to Jesse’s eyes. « I love curfling! I love recreational sports in general. It sure would be nice to do something normal for a change. »
You know, he’s got a point.
Unsurprisingly, there’s a curfling rink in the infinitely versatile Yggdrasil Tower. Since he’s an enthusiast, Tommy has reserved a luxury box, and we’re joined by his closest bud Ari. Wynne and Ace are already there – when would they ever miss a bet? But Driscoll and Hurley have disappeared.
« Big turnout today, » says Davy. The stands are filled with penguins who look like they’re enjoying themselves. Which begs the question – are they really enjoying themselves, or is it just for show, like extras in a theatrical production? Are the penguins which exist in my husband’s mind mere symbols, or are they self-willed?
For some reason, I have never seen this topic mentioned in any of those media push marital advice programs.
The three contestants skate into the rink: Jesse, Palmer – who looks a bit disgruntled as he was pulled away from a project he was doing with Owen – and Faulkner. This is the first time I’ve seen Faulkner, and he’s gorgeous: hawk-like features, a lean, bronzed body, and ash blonde – almost white – hair pulled back into a ponytail which accentuates his widow’s peak. If I didn’t feel so sorry for Jesse, I’d probably be rooting for Faulkner.
Davy is right about me. I don’t even know these guys, and I’m already playing favorites. I’m just a terrible person.
« I like couples curfling better, » says Ace.
« So do I, but we need to have a clear winner, » Tommy replies. « Singles was the only way to go. »
The music starts – a sexy flamenco tune. The players are supposed to perform dance moves while scooting the stone towards the goal with an implement called a curfling iron. Poor Palmer is hopeless; he can barely stay on his feet. Jesse darts in front of him, dips and then shoots.
« My money’s on him, » says Wynne. « It’s like he was born to curfle. »
« Faulkner stands a chance, » says Ari.
So it would seem to me – he’s quick and aggressive, especially during the thrash metal round. Then again, I never could follow the scoring. « Doesn’t Faulkner have the most points? »
« That’s just the goal tally, » says Tommy. « He’s got a good eye, but Jesse is a more elegant skater. That’s the real excitement of curfling – you never know what will happen until the judges weigh in. »
« It seems like it would be very easy to fix the games that way. »
« That’s why the judges are kept in an isolation chamber and not allowed to watch the goals, » Tommy replies.
When the music ends, the judges emerge onto the ring. « Those are the biggest rockhoppers I’ve ever seen. »
« Dominic says they’re not rockhoppers, » says Davy. « They’re erect-crested penguins, and we’d better learn to tell them apart. »
« Does it really matter? »
« X’khaim says to check your datapad. » I check my datapad. He’s pushed a file entitled “Pleroma Organizational Chart.” « He says that the penguin species all have different functions, and it will be very useful to identify just what the pleroma thinks it’s doing at any given time. »
« Cüinn’s latest theory is that the penguins are an interface between us and the mycorrhizae, » says Ari. « What tipped him off is that they not only perform regulatory actions, but also have a nitrogen fixing function. »
« No shit. »
« Not to be contradictory, but the symbolic representation of the process is actually the penguin guano… »
« There we go – I was right! » Wynne interrupts. « Jesse edges out Faulkner when the style points are counted. »
“Jesse del Eden’d, Grand Gofer of Heredom. 91st to emanate, 91 in the color scale, resonates to 467. 1.759 meters tall, cock size 16.34 cm when erect, apparent age 28. Recreation coordinator. Totem is Brachychiton rupestris, the Queensland bottle tree, fixed star is Tarf, the edge or end. Esoteric symbol is the Minchiate trump Il Cancro, Cancer. Dessert is nau’gsh and crème puffed rice treat. Function is adjusting resistance, proto-conscious tendency is generosity, designated Gift. Blazon is lillifer, a curfling stone beneath a curfling sheet, proper.”
« Chand said we needed a recreation coordinator, » says Ace. « I guess it must’ve been important. »
« Seth is freaking out, » says Wynne. « 91st to emanate, 91 in the color scale and achievement #91. He thinks it must be significant. »
« There is such a thing as a coincidence, » says Ari.
« Not in the pleroma, there isn’t. »
As we leave, Davy starts bitching about Driscoll again. « I wish he’d go faster. This is no time for Driscoll to have artist’s block. »
« You shouldn’t be so hard on him. »
« I dunno, these new emanations seem to take so much more out of him than me. I could just keep making things forever, but it’s like Driscoll puts a little bit of his soul in each one. I guess…I guess I can kind of understand. It bugged me a little when that Palmer guy said the pleroma wasn’t good enough. Suibhne tried. » Davy’s voice is suddenly dejected. « I tried. But nothing is ever good enough. »
He’s so much like a disconsolate child that I almost forget he’s one of the most powerful emanations, literally a god with the ability to create new life out of nothing. « Is that true? You feel that nothing you’ve created is good enough? »
« Well, it isn’t. It’s kind of a sore spot. I haven’t given up, though. »
« What about the Eternium tara that you made for our wedding night? Or the blue angel moths? Or the infinitely useful javamelon? Or the infinitely pleasurable chocumber? Or the entire ecosystem of the Eden planetoid, including the K’ntasari? »
His enormous eyes are so sad as he looks at me. « It’s pretty good stuff, I guess, but it never turns out quite as good as I want it to. You just deserve better. »
I had no idea that he felt like that. It seems that Davy would like to say something more, but he can’t. That’s his burden; as the repository for some of Ash’s most powerful and least human impulses, he can’t often put them into words. But his eyes are burning with a desperate blue fire. His inability to create perfection seems tied to his inability to express himself fully. I’m reminded of the time when I was so angry at Ash, and Davy made the gilded lilies, and I realized that because Ash is alien, he sometimes expresses his love in an entirely alien way.
I can feel my heart breaking. Not shattered, but breaking more like an egg, like something cracked open to let new life emerge from it. Like these new emanations, Ash is emerging into something new as well. The desperation I’ve been seeing in Davy’s eyes is fear – something is changing, and Davy is afraid of it. And I sympathize: more than any other emanation, Davy has scared the hell out of me.
I’m not afraid now. I grab his hand. « Davy, I love you. »
Wynne starts shouting. « Davy got a Gold Card! Dark horse pays out at 115:1! »