"I always freckled. But I said, 'Damn the freckles, I worship the sun!'"
"I know," Doon said. "I tell everyone that this place is modeled after Garden, a planet where they restrict immigration and industry is kept to a minimum. But you know what this place really is."
"Crove," she said. "My grandfather's world! What this planet used to be before it was sheathed in metal like a vast chastity belt, blocking life from this place forever; oh, Doon, whitever it is you want, you can have, only let me come and spend an afternoon here on every waking!"
"I'll be glad to have you come. Only you know what it means."
"But you want something from me, anyway," she said.
He smiled. "Want to swim?"
"You have water?"
"A lake. Crystal clear water. A bit chilly, though."
"Where!"
He led her to the water, and she unhesitatingly took off her clothes and dove in. Doon met her in the middle of the lake, where she floated on her back, looking upward as a cloud passed before the sun.
"I must have died," she said. "This must be heaven."
"You're a believer?" Doon asked.
"Only in myself. We make our own heavens. And I see, Doon, that you have created a good one. Well, Doon, you're the first man I've talked to today who wasn't an utter ass."
"I do not aspire to surpass my superiors."
She chuckled, fanning her hands to propel herself gently in the water. Doon, too, lay on his back in the water, and they heard each other's words through the rushing sound of water in their ears.
"Now the complete list, Mr. Doon," she said. "All the things, you are in control of."
"As I told you," he said. "Part of the ministry of colonialization."
"And?"
"The rest of the ministry. And the rest of the ministries."
"All of them?" she asked,
"Through one means or another. No one knows it, however. I just own the people who own the people who run it. I don't muck with the everyday affairs."
"Good of you. Let them think they're independent. And?"
"And?"
"The rest of the list?"
"That's the list. All the ministries. And the ministries control everything else."
"Not everything. Not somec," she said.
"Oh, yes. The independent, untouchable agency. Only Mother can make the rules for the Sleeproom."
"But you control that, too, don't you?"
"Actually, I had to take it over first. That let me control who woke up when. Very useful. It lets me get rid of people I don't want. I just put them on a lower level of somec, if they're weak, and they die out very soon. Or I put them on a higher level of somec, if they're strong, and they aren't around often enough to bother me."
"You rule my empire, then?"
"I do," Doon answered.
"Have you brought me here to kill me?"
Doon swung over and treaded water, looking at her in alarm. "You don't believe that, do you?" he, asked. "I'd never do that, Mother, never. I've admired you too much. I've modeled my life on yours. The way you controlled the empire from the start, and everyone thought it was your husband, Selvock, the poor stud."
"He wasn't much of a stud," Mother mused. "He never fathered a child on anyone."
"No, Mother. You're the only person in the world, though, who could stop me. And I knew that sooner or later you'd realize who I was and what I was doing. I've looked forward to this meeting."
"Really? I haven't."
"No?" Doon broke into a crawl stroke and made his way to shore. Not long afterward, Mother followed, to find him lying on the grass.
"You're right," she said. "I have looked forward to meeting you. The thief who would take it all away from me."
"Not at all," Doon said. "Not a thief. Just your heir."
"I plan to live forever," she said.
"And if I have my way, you shall."
"But you don't want just to own my empire, Doon. You don't want to just inherit."
"Consider this a springboard. If you hadn't built this empire, I should have had to. But since it's built, I shall tear it up and use the building blocks to make something better."
"Better than this?" she asked.
"Can't you smell the decay? Nothing is alive on this planet. Not the people. Not the atmosphere, not the rock, nothing, it's all dead, all going nowhere. The whole empire's like that. I'm going to kick it into gear again."
"Kick it into gear!" she giggled. "That was archaic when I was a girl!"
"I study old things," Doon answered. "Old things are the only things that are new anymore. You were great. You built a beautiful thing."
She was happy. The sun was beating down on her for the first time in decades (centuries, actually, but since she hadn't lived the years, she didn't feel them); she had swum in fresh water; and she had met a man who just might be, just might perhaps be her equal.
"What do you want me to do? Make you chancellor? Marry you?"
Doon said no, none of those things. "Just let me go on. Don't challenge me. Don't force my hand. I need a few more centuries. And then it'll all break loose."
"I could still stop you," she said.
"I know it," he answered. "But I'm asking you not to. Nobody was in a position to stop you. I'm asking for my chance."
"You'll have your chance. In return for one favor."
"And that is?"
"When you make your move and everything, as you put it, breaks loose-- take me with you."
"Do you mean it?"
"There'll be no use for Mother in the universe you're making, Abner."
"But there'll be room for Rachel Crove?"
The name struck her like a hammer. No one had called her by her given name since-- since-- And she was a girl again, and a man who was her equal, or nearly so, lay naked beside her, and she reached over and put her arms around him, whispering, "Take me with you. Take me."
He did.
They lay in the grass as the sun set, and she felt more fulfilled than she had since a day on a cliff in Crove when she had begun her career of conquests. Only this time she had been conquered, and she knew it, and she was willing.
"On every waking," she said, "you must tell me your plans. You must show me what you're building, and let me watch."
"I will," he said. "But you can't make any suggestions."
"I wouldn't dream of it. That would be cheating, wouldn't it?"
"You aren't very good at sex," Doon said.
"Neither are you," she answered, laughing. "Who gives a damn?"
Mother did not come back until half an hour before her grand entrance at tke Mother's Waking Party, the highest high society event in Capitol. Nab was distraught.
"Mother, Mother, what a worry you've caused us!"
She only looked at him slantwise, and frowned. "I was in good company. Were you?"
Nab glanced at Dent. "Only second rate, I'm afraid.
Dent laughed nervously.
Mother growled at him. "Can't you even get a little angry, boy? It's so damned boring when everybody tries to be nice. Well, the party's already underway, right? So what am I wearing this time?"
They brought her the dress, and seven women wrapped her in it. She was startled that her nipples showed. "This is really the fashion?"
Nab shook his head. "It's a bit more modest than most. But I thought that perhaps the image you need to present--"
"Modest? Me?" She laughed and laughed. "Oh, this is the best waking in years. Best in years, Nab. You can stay on, but fire the boy. Find an assistant with more gumption. The boy's an ass. And send the chancellor to me."