“Questioner,” said Bao breathlessly. “Oh, Questioner … “
“Look,” she said. “Look at the monsters.”
“No time for monsters,” he said. “Questioner, you must listen.”
“What is it?” asked Madame, turning toward him. “Have you come up with something.”
Bao flushed. “I … that is we, yes. We think.”
“What is it?” asked Calvy.
“I am showing you on the IDIOT SAVANT,” said Bao. “I cannot describe it.”
Wordlessly, Bao set up the device, and the screen came alive with the image of the Quaggima, with glittering points and blots of light. “The lights are being the Timmys,” said Bao. “And the Joggiwagga.”
They watched for a time as the sparks and blotches moved slowly around the Quaggima, repetitively, back and forth, back and forth, then quickly another motion, then back and forth …
“Are you not seeing it, Madame?” begged Bao. “Mouche was being sure you would be seeing it.”
“I don’t see anything,” said Madame. “What am I supposed to see?”
Bao approached Simon and murmured something. He, in turn, murmured to Madame, and she stared at the screen with a shocked expression. “Oh, by all the Hagions … “
“What?” demanded Questioner. “What did he say?”
“He said the … that is, the dancers … they’re making love to it,” said Madame.
“To the Quaggima?” Questioner turned to Simon. “Is that what he said?”
“He said stroke, stroke, tweak, Questioner.”
“He said what?”
Madame threw up her hands. “Never mind what he said! I believe he’s right! Only … “ She looked puzzled. “Of course, the anatomy is all wrong. How in heaven’s name would we … “
“Give me a moment,” cried Questioner, turning her attention momentarily to her data banks. “I see! If the Timmys amassed to do this … ritual, well, now that we can see it, Corojum can tell these current Timmys what to do … “
“No,” said the Corojum, in mixed anger and sadness. “It would take many, many Corojumi to tell them what to do. And much rehearsal, also.”
D’Jevier cried, “But if the Fauxi-dizalonz can make anything … “
Corojum said, “Can disassemble quickly. Can put together in new shape with new information much more slowly. Making things right takes time. A few little things take as long as one very big thing. To make many, many Timmys would take a long time.”
Questioner said, “So we won’t try for Timmys. It can make one big thing.”
“Where is pattern?” cried Corojum.
“Mouche is a Consort,” Questioner responded. “He is trained to do this kind of thing. And you, Simon, you were also trained. And you, Calvy, from what I am told. And there are those monsters moving down the road, including one … one organ that might be useful.”
“You’re saying you expect the Fauxi-dizalonz to create a Consort for this Quaggima?” cried D’Jevier.
“Why not?” snapped Questioner. “You should approve of that.” She turned to the Corojum. “It would work, wouldn’t it? If Bofusdiaga will cooperate.”
Corojum dithered. “Is this something my friend Mouche would want?”
“Bofusdiaga can put him back the way he was, can’t he?”
“Creatures are never exactly the same,” whispered Corojum. “Maybe he will not be willing?”
“Does he have to be willing?” muttered Onsofruct. “Consorts are sold into duty all the time, are they not? I’m sure they’re not always willing.”
“Onsy, I’m ashamed of you,” cried D’Jevier.
“I will talk to Bofusdiaga,” said the Corojum, plodding away with his head down and his fur lying flat, the picture of dejection.
“We can’t do this,” cried Madame. “It’s unconscionable.”
The world shook. From the chasm opposite they heard the great mooing, a plaint of such enormity that they covered their ears and grimaced with pain. Stones plunged past them. The procession of monsters stopped their descent and held on. Whenever the sounds of the stones stopped, the muttered cadence of the monsters was heard: hup, hup, hup, hup. Finally, after long, terrorized moments, the tremors subsided.
“Perhaps you find it more conscionable to die,” Questioner said to Madame. “I think you will find yourself in the minority.”
Another tremor struck, then a milder one, then one milder yet.
“The moons are separating on the backside of this world,” said Questioner. “We will now have a time of peace before the end. Which may, or may not, be long enough!”