Tara returns from the wardrobe. Lady Magdelaine Lorma has left after divesting Tara of the heavy, ornate velvets of her ceremonial costume. If she had been accompanied by Aran, or even Patrick, they would have been allowed to assist her, the act becoming an intimacy. But Ailann was master over most of the proceedings, and it would not be seemly for a god to take a role better suited for a servant.
The evening went splendidly, with a few surprises. I am one of them. It is time for Tara to know the truth. Then I will submit myself to judgment.
She’s wearing only a shift, and I’m certain that she intended to bathe. “Dermot?” she says in surprise. Then, “Of course. I have been expecting you. Just not tonight.”
I nodded. “You have many weddings to celebrate. But first, I have a question to ask of you. Were you sincere when you told Patrick that your priority was to understand I and I, and to that end, you would embrace your destiny?”
“You know I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”
I knelt on the chill tiles of the floor before her. “Then I throw myself upon your mercy, as does Davy.”
“What?” She grasps my hand. “Do stand up, Dermot. How can I hold a conversation with you like that?”
I rise. “How to explain? Tara, the emanation closest to the substance of I and I is Davy. That vision Malachi had while he was delirious – Davy has always seen it. That’s why Davy never makes mistakes. But he could never communicate it to us. I, on the other hand, am the fruit of the Atlas Tree. As Daniel is the alpha, I am the omega. I have certain intuitions, certain understandings because I encompass and experience the whole. This is why Davy approached me when he created Goliath.”
“He wanted the depth of your understanding when he recreated Atlas and recombined the branches.”
“Exactly so. But then I learned of Davy’s reasons for his creations. Of course, you clearly understand the purpose of the K’ntasari – at least the obvious purpose for their existence. But Davy created Goliath because I was the last branch of Atlas. There were to be no more. Davy sensed that someday you would need other branches. And he intuited that the K’ntasari needed a leader native to their world, one who did not act and react colored by the teachings of the Cantor. Her solutions were for another world, another species, and, as becomes more apparent, another time which is now passing away.”
“Dermot, all of that makes sense, except the thought that I need more branches is a little overwhelming. But why didn’t you tell me? I understand that maybe Davy couldn’t put it into words…”
“When Davy shared his knowledge with me, I became aware of the vision. And my lady, I was sorely troubled by it.”
“Troubled? But everyone, I mean even Ross…”
She is so crestfallen. I hasten to assuage her. “Oh my heart, like the others, I was stunned by its magnificence. But I saw the implication. Everything that I and I has ever done is to assure that the vision comes into being. In steering that course, was he not also subtly steering yours?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Nothing has meaning if you don’t choose us. But my fear – and Davy understood it immediately – was that you were never free to choose. And so we lay a trap. I and I made no mistake, no miscalculation. He believed that he would be able to watch over you from Eden, that Ari would be conscious of his roots on Dolparessa. We betrayed God, Tara. Davy and I sat a trap for I and I so that you might be free.”
“Of course, we knew that eventually, you would find us. The Gyre was always a possibility, but in truth, the K’ntasari would have been impossible to keep secret forever. Sooner or later, you’d come to Eden. One thing we did not anticipate was the interference of the Terrans from Dalgherdia. They served to both expedite and confuse matters.”
“The point was simply to buy time. To see if, left to your own devices, you would grow in a different direction. And although you may banish me, I do not regret our actions. That after two years apart from us you would affirm that you embrace the vision with your whole will is the finest outcome we could have hoped for. Now we can all work joyously, as one, unhindered by doubt.”
“I’m going to take a bath,” she says, turning abruptly. “I need to think this through. But I expect you to be here when I get back. If I come back to another emanation, you’re in trouble, mister. You’re not getting off this easily.”
I watch her depart. I watch the small of her back, the smooth slope where it meets her buttocks, the curves gently covered by her thin shift. If I could but lay my hand there, I think every bird on Dolparessa would sing.
I’m going to fucking kill you, says Cillian. What kind of fucked up asshole are you that you could pull this shit? You left her unprotected for two years!
Nothing was gonna happen, says Davy. Humans leave each other alone all the time and nothing happens. You guys treat her like she’s a little kid.
Are you a fucking moron, or are you a motherfucking imbecile? asks Cillian, most probably rhetorically. She coulda died!
There is no reason to think that a healthy human female in her early 50s with enormous wealth and access to sophisticated medical technology would die in two years, I reply.
Tara’s situation is not that of a normal aristo, says Ailann. How many wars have we faced? Terrorists? Assassination attempts? She’s the Matriarch, Dermot. I’d say that you were being naïve, but that’s too innocuous. You were being dangerously negligent.
I’d expect Davy to be this reckless, says Tarlach, but not you.
You exposed Tara to danger, says Ari, and you hurt her. And you hurt all of the emanations who suffered through this. You hurt me and you hurt Manasseh, who had to deal with the situation on Eden on our own, probably a lot less effectively than if we had known what the hell was going on. You put Jamey and Malachi through so much pain to fix the flaw you had intentionally created. You alienated the Cantor, causing a political split among the Cu’enashti. You caused the branches of Atlas and Goliath, who should be brothers, to turn against each other. And quite possibly your actions led to this war, or at least precipitated it sooner, causing untold suffering on Tasea and Dalgherdia, let alone the suffering to come.
I’m so sorry, Ari, I reply, but everything after your first sentence is completely irrelevant.
How can you say that? asks Lugh. How dare you say that? We’ve got brothers who haven’t yet awakened. And during that whole mess we had people talking about immolating, or burning, or transplanting or splicing – it could’ve gotten so ugly.
It always comes back to your sex fetish, doesn’t it? says Lorcan with a smirk.
Shut up, says Ailann. The last thing we need now is provocation from you.
But for once, I’m on your side, Lorcan replies. I would never consider leaving Tara. Tara is mine. Every moment I was not consciously aware of her presence is like a red-hot iron granule that I have swallowed. I seethe with resentment in my bowels and my blood. I belch forth fire and venom.
And a considerable amount of melodrama, adds Malachi. But consider that unlike you, Davy and Dermot acted with the purest of intent. And Ari, your comments are hypocritical considering what you were prepared to do for Tara’s sake.
You know the old saying, says Cillian: the motherfucking barge of hell rides on a diarrheic sewage sluice of festering intentions.
I recall that saying somewhat differently, says Evan.
Tara returns. She is loosely wrapped in a thick bathrobe, her tresses twisted and pinned to have been out of the water’s reach. The nape of her neck is revealed, pale skin elegantly tapering into the tangled silk of her hair. If I could but kiss it, Davy would create a whole world made entirely of flowers.
“I have two questions for you. First, the incident when that future version of me came to warn you of the attack on the Atlas Tree. Patrick says that he had to make the decision on his own, and that he felt cut off from the other emanations. Why was that?”
“I don’t know.” It’s been a mystery to all of us.
It’s obvious, says Davy sullenly.
I can explain, says Malachi. We’re all shocked. Absolutely flabbergasted.
“But Malachi knows,” I say. “Malachi is going to be extremely useful.”
“You’re telling me. So what does he say?”
“He says that I and I hadn’t predicted that version of you, but absence means nothing. The vision He sees is of you, not Himself, and He does not see every relevant moment in the path leading up to it. He needed to know if the woman who came to Patrick was a part of the future He saw, and He did not trust Himself to make that judgment. He felt that one of his emanations, being human, would better understand human nature – whether that future self was likely to evolve into His vision. He chose Patrick for the same reason that only Patrick is allowed to kill – because he is the most balanced and stable of all of the emanations. And Patrick reached the correct conclusion – a very human conclusion – your ability to love is an essential component in your ability to evolve.”
“So Ash left such a vital decision completely in Patrick’s hands.” She throws herself back onto the bed. I want so much to join her, but I am not invited. I am still under interrogation. “All right, the second question. The same sort of thing happened that night Lorcan tried to kill me.”
“No,” I said. “Malachi says that although the phenomenon Lorcan experienced was the same, the motivation was entirely different. I and I is well-aware that Lorcan is disturbed. Lorcan is the manifestation of I and I’s hidden darkness, a potential for evil not previously seen in our species. And yet, inevitable – we emanate to experience what it means to be human. How could we expect to maintain a tree’s ethics in a human form?”
“Trees don’t kill,” says Tara, “but humans do.”
“I and I needed to see exactly how deep that darkness was. Lorcan never would have been allowed to kill you. Lorcan’s actions were the answer to a question I and I was asking Himself – whether the combination of the traumas He had experienced and the incredible power He had as Archon had corrupted Him irrevocably. He wanted to know if He was too dangerous to be allowed to exist. If Lorcan had persisted, I and I would’ve immolated. But in the end, Lorcan’s love for you exceeded his darkness.”
Tara rolls onto her side, so that she is not looking at me. “You promised,” she says. “You promised that you wouldn’t…”
“I promised. I was the covenant of the promise that I and I would never consider Himself nor his emanations expendable. But I hadn’t emanated at that point. Lorcan was the flood, and I was the rainbow.”
“Dermot, are you familiar with the story of Prometheus?”
“He took fire from the gods.”
“Actually, there’s a story before that. He divided the sacrifice into two parts, meat and bones. He covered the bones with the pelt of the animal, and it looked so much bigger than the meat. He then asked Zeus which portion he would claim for the gods. Prometheus thought that he was pulling a trick, but Zeus knew what he was doing when he accepted the bones.”
“The point of your allegory is that there is no way we could’ve tricked I and I.”
“I think that if you were concerned with the issue of my free agency, then so was Ash. My freedom of choice is an unspoken priority that doesn’t come from the emanations. Cillian has told me that if it was up to him, he’d keep me tied to the bed.”
“Zeus knew that humanity would need fire to cook the meat – and that Prometheus would steal it. Just as Davy and I rebelled against I and I for the sake of accomplishing His ultimate purpose.”
Prometheus was still punished, though, says Lorcan. Can we hang up Dermot and cut out his liver?
Tara pulls her hair free of the knot, and it spills back onto the pillow, a scarlet cascade. “I’m not angry with you, Dermot. I’m furious with Ash. I’m furious with these little games and tests. I’m furious at the knowledge that half the purpose of the emanation of the month club is to keep my interest. After all these years, doesn’t he trust me?”
“Tara,” I say, and then notice there is moisture in my eyes. I’ve never cried before. It’s an interesting sensation, but I can see where it could grow to become annoying. “I don’t think that He can afford to trust you. Without you, He’ll go mad, and He has assumed the powers of a god. A mad god cannot be unleashed on the universe. And also, you’re human. He doesn’t quite understand…these emanations. The sheer number of the emanations. They aren’t about creating a harem. A dozen should’ve sufficed for that. They’re about trying as many possible permutations of human nature so that He might better understand it. And each one sees you differently. Each one loves you in his own unique way.”
“I think I understand, Dermot, but we still have to trust each other. Ash is the only one I can trust, and we’re making decisions that affect – everything. I’m too fucking small for this. How did I get stuck holding the bag?”
“Malachi says that the final emanation of Goliath will be the covenant of perfect trust between us.”
“You’re talking…about number 50, right? I was hoping that would be years and years into the future. Millennia.” She rises, crosses the room to a cabinet containing an assortment of bottles. “Pardon me while I drink myself into a stupor.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea. It is your wedding night.”
“It is,” she says, her long fingers resting against the ornate cap of the decanter. If I could but brush my lips… “Get lost. We’ve wasted too much time, and I’ve been pining over Ari for months. He also happens to be even more well-hung than Cillian.”