Chapter One
She lay in the thicket of bushes, waiting for the sun to pass away.
�God is dead,� she whispered to herself.
�CumAndi is dead. God is very much alive, unless she never existed,�
the head replied. It lay beside her under the bush. It peered up into the
leaves. She peered out across the savannah. Gazelles, long-limbed, fed
under the afternoon sun. A bird flitted in the treetops above. The girl
started, like a rabbit about to run, then settled back into the dirt under
the bushes.
�God is dead,� she repeated. Her face, though white, had smears of
earth upon it. Her body was frail, momentarily quiescent, still as the
surrounding trees, yet with a child�s energy coursing through it, ready to
spring.
�You�ll understand he wasn�t God when you�re older,� the head said.
It lacked a body, but not a mouth. One eye was missing. Wires trailed out
the bottom of its neck. It did not have the appearance of a head that had
been guillotined but, rather, of a head that had been unscrewed.
�He saved me,� the girl said in a quiet voice. It came with her
breath, giving her the appearance of being breathless. The voice of one
who is ten, but speaking of important matters.
�He didn�t save your Lucky Charms,� the head replied. It gazed
blithely into the bush above them. Its one eye blinked, seemed to wish to
close, then popped open. �I need my eyelid oiled when you get a chance,� it
said.
�Of *course* He didn�t save my Lucky Charms!� the girl snapped.
�They weren�t real. Or, if they were, they weren�t really. Not like I�m
real. They were just part-- part of the E cage.�
�Yes, part of your cage,� the head said. �It�s called an Emulsion
Cage. You were grown for scientific purposes by the Sisterhood, to be
studied. But never to be let out of your cage. Just like him. Except he
escaped from his cage, then broke into you and rescued you. Sorry, I didn�t
mean to imply he was...� the head paused for effect, and wondering if the
child would get the joke. �...inadequate.�
�He wasn�t indequate!!� the girl answered. �Anyways, me and teddy
are going to get revenge for him. You can come along if you want. If you
want your eyeball oiled.� She glared at him.
�God knows, I�m safer out here, rusting away in all this humidity,�
the head said. �Look Kal,�
�Kalia,� the girl corrected. �Kal is a guy who sells used cars on
T.V.�
�Kalia,� the head said. �Isn�t your name spelled with-- oh, well.
Never mind. Tell you what. I�ll call you Kalia if you call me Plato. Deal?�
�Nope,� the girl said. �You�re Bot. Pure and simple. Unless you go
with me. Then I�ll call you Plato.�
The head grinned to itself, tried not to let it show. He was a head.
He had no arms and legs. He would go exactly where she, or anyone,
carried him, with absolutely no say in the matter. But she was only ten.
So, to little Van, that is, Kalia, he apparently had a say. That was worth a
lot, to a head with no body.�
�Okay,� the head answered. �If you call me Plato, I�ll go with you.
Incidentally, Plato was known for being very wise. So you might say my
name with a certain reverence. Sort of like the revernce you use when you
pronounce the name of your �God,� CumAndi.�
The girl wiped her nose with her fist. �To me he was God,� she
murmured. She pulled her teddy bear closer to her in the dirt as if to
reassure herself of her faith.
�Where, Kalia, shall we be going?� the head asked.
�Noplace �til night comes,� the girl answered.
�Obviously,� the head said. �I considered that implied in my
question. The Sisterhood is still looking for us. You�re the sole survivor
of the human race, as it existed before the Metamorphosis. That �holy day�
when the Sisterhood turned itself into lizard women to assume a more
beautiful form, and one unattractive to men, as the Book of the Goddess
tells us. Actually a virus escaped, during a nuclear war, and the only
survivors were females, mutated into lizards.� The head seemed to sigh,
though it had no lungs. �All is the Will of the Goddess in hindsight, though
she didn�t exist when it all happened. Humans worshipped a paternal God,
back then.�
�CumAndi was God,� the girl said, gazing out at the savannah again.
She sighed. It was a real sigh, made by air passing up from the lungs. She
watched the gazelles slowly cross the sun-warmed grass and wished she
possessed such freedom.
A soft patter of rain began falling. It was a warm, tropical rain. It
wettened the leaves of the trees overhead, of the bush they were hiding
under. In time the rain trickled down, and began dripping on the girl. She
drew the head closer to herself, placed her palm underneath it, to lift it
off the gently moistening earth.
�Do you think they�ll find us?� Kalia whispered.
�The Sisterhood?� the head answered.
�Yes, Play-Doh,� the Siterhood, Kalia said.
The head didn�t catch the girl�s change in his name. She was
oblivious. There was only one �Plato� she knew of. It was a can, it held
clay, and if it was very wise, it must be because it could be turned into so
many shapes.
�Who else could catch us?� the girl asked, scrunching up her nose.
�Oh, lions, tygers, and bears,� the head answered. His Blake-ian
reference was lost on the girl. �And others. But you�re right. It�s the
Siterhood that knows you�re somewhere out here, and wants you. Badly.
You�re the last remnant. The last human.� The head grinned. �And I�m
made in your image, sort of. Appropriate for acting out feminist sex
domination fantasies, if you can find me a human body. I was designed to
play the submissive, but, thanks to a little rewiring, I can be the dominant
if you insist.�
�You talk about strange stuff,� Kalia answered. �But I like you,� she
said. She gave the head a wet kiss on his cheek.
The head�s one eye blinked. �I think that�s the first honest kiss I
ever got in my entire existence,� it said. A tear came to its eye. It
blinked. It went away.
�We�ll wait until dark,� Kalia whispered. She looked up through the
leaves of the hedge at the sun. �You can tell me more strange stuff if you
like.�
Jillian Ansen floated back down into her chair. She�d been demoted.
But at least she wasn�t a private. Gulf, once head of security for
Wellesley College for Wyman, had been put in charge of policing the trash
outside the big, clitoral-shaped research building. It was a big job. It
was a big building. It generated a lot of trash in a day. All the other
janitors had been transferred, so Gulf could have the biggest job possible.
�For your mentality,� as Renno had added. Any litter she missed was a
cause for shock therapy at Medicinal Psychotherapy.
As for Jillian, she�d escaped with little more. She was no longer
Governess of Education. Now she was a secretary for Renno. She did
typing, and shorthand, and took dictation. Any failures on her part
required a trip for counseling, though not shock therapy, at Medicinal
Psychotherapy. �Counseling� consisted of cleaning the cages of the
experimental rats they used in Medicinal Psychotherapy. It wasn�t a
pleasant job, cleaning up rat dung because of a typo in a letter.
Yet she could still levitate. Not on company time, of course, except
when she knew no one was watching. She couldn�t go high, that would give
her away. But an inch, just enough to get her bottom out of the chair, that
she could get away with. And it wasn�t easy lifting up her 352 lbs., using
just her mind. But it was exercise. And sometimes, when no one was
looking, and she thought she had the time, she teleported. Just a little.
From the chair behind her desk to the chair where the filing cabinet was.
Once she�d teleported her backside not to the chair seat, but to the chair
arm, and broken it. But now, she could manage without missing the seat.
And sometimes, after work, if she was last out of the building, and
concentrated very hard, she could teleport herself all the way downstairs
to the ladies� room.
�Yes, well, don�t bother with the helicraft, I�ll just teleport myself
to the meeting,� Renno said with a wave of her hand. She stalked into the
office. She was dismissive in manner, to her aids. And to Jillian. Except
when Jillian had made a typo. With long strides she walked over to
Jillian�s printer and yanked a sheet of paper from it.
�Yes... yes,� Renno said. She read the paper quickly. �Temperature
up another half degree, eh? I swear, the Great Goddess gave us the Big
Bang, the beauty of the virus, but our primitive ancestors sure blew the
hell out of the temperature. If this keeps up we may as well name the
continent North Africa.�
�Yes, ma�am,� two female aides, standing behind Renno, at a
respectful distance, chimed. They were bare legged, and bare waisted, as
the dress code required. Renno, older and bearing the dignity of high rank,
wore a long robe that swathed her body down to her knees. It was royal
purple in color. The females standing behind her, and Jillian, wore vests.
Jillian�s was beige. The two females had chosen brighter colors; one
canary yellow, the other sunset red.
Without turning to look at her, Renno asked Jillian, �The girl has
been caught? What�s her name? I hate using the word �name� for an
animal but, it is convenient.�
�Kalia,� one of the female aides said.
�Kalia,� Renno murmured. �Yes. She has been caught?�
Jillian cringed. �Not yet, Madam Renno,� she answered.
Renno stiffened. �This is unacceptable,� she said. Her voice had a
cold iciness to it. She turned. She looked at Jillian. Her eyes, already
slitted, narrowed further. Jillian, despite her large size, did her best to
shrink herself down behind her desk.
The aides, already at a respectful distance, stepped back from Renno.
They were well trained. Others might have offered advice, condolences,
but they had learned long ago that proferring such humane gestures to
Renno only earned you a trip to Medicinal Psychotherapy.
Renno tilted her head to one side as she gazed at Jillian. There was
the silence of death in the room. When she spoke, at last, her voice was
like the crack of a whip.
�Don�t think I�m unaware of your powers,� Renno said sharply to
Jillian. The fat woman hunched behind the desk, behind the computer atop
the desk, was about to blurt out an apology for teleporting herself to the
toilet when Renno spoke again. �You killed seven of my guards,� Renno
said. She spoke, as always, as if every last female in the Sisterhood was
her personal property. �Of course, I had to demote you for that. And for
losing the animal. But what you set in motion did eventually result in the
animal being captured. And questioned. He offered nothing, but that�s
Medicinal Psychotherapy�s fault, not yours. No. And the killings, that was
a necessary act one rarely sees in this feminized Sisterhood,� Renno said.
The word feminized was spoken with a particular scorn. �So I�m putting
you in charge. Yes. You. Your worthless ass. And this time you�re going to
succeed, where you failed before. Don�t expect to be let off with a job
cleaning up after rats if you fail this time,� Renno said.
Jillain gasped. She hunched lower behind her computer, in
genuflection. Then she burst out, �Thank you Madam Renno!�
Renno turned away. �Don�t thank me. Just do your job. DO it!� Renno
said. And she stalked into the windowless cell of a room she had long ago
claimed as her office.
�Yes, Madam Renno,� Jillian breathed. She was going to mention that
she needed a LiftChair, that walking was a great effort for her, but she
caught herself just in time. Renno had no use for trivialities. The
paperwork, once the aides generated it, would contain, to be sure, all the
necessary titles and accomodations. Perhaps even a requisition for a
new-style LiftChair, like Andrea the Theorist had. Catching the loose
female animal, the Kalia, was a top priority.
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