The Norns looked mighty pleased with themselves, like they'd just pulled off a monumental practical joke.
"That's it?" I said. "That's all? I have no future?"
"Or," said Skuld, "the rest is for you to decide. You are free. Your options are unlimited."
"But you said — "
"The path of the hero," Skuld cut in, "has more branches than even Yggdrasil. Anything and everything is yours for the choosing. There is no certain route, no sure outcome. There is only what is right and what is wrong, and you yourself must be the constant judge of that. That's what being a hero is: freedom of choice. Death or glory. Fight or flight. Honour or shame."
"Coke or Pepsi. Look — stop me if I've said this already — but I don't reckon I am a hero."
"The evidence suggests the contrary," said Verdande, with a wave at the TV.
"The tape would not have ended where it did," said Skuld, "were you of a lesser breed, with more mundane prospects. What appears to be formless chaos is, in fact, endless possibility. Infinite opportunity. You are a rare, fortunate man, Gid Coxall."
I turned to Odin. "Do I trust them?"
"They are the Norns," he answered with a shrug. "Whether to trust them or not isn't really an issue. You simply have to accept everything they say."
"The All-Father may not be all-knowing," said Urd, "but he offers good counsel."
"This isn't some kind of set-up?" I said, suspicious. "Some plan the four of you have concocted together to make me stay?"
The Norns played innocent and offended. Hands to throats. Elaborately shaken heads. Deep frowns.
Odin, for his part, seemed bemused by the whole notion. "I and the Norns, collude? I don't think so, Gid."
"But you keep telling me I'm a hero. Are you trying to, how shall I put this? Seduce me, Mrs Robinson?"
"Aren't you staying?" Odin said. "Aren't you willing to fight on the Aesir's behalf? You appear to be. More so, certainly, than a couple of days ago. Thor's convinced you'll be a terrific asset. He told me you're positively bloodthirsty. You know no restraint."
"I… I've not signed on any dotted line yet."
"But you'd like to."
That solitary eye of his bored into me. I felt like an open book.
"I might," I said. "Maybe if I knew what we're going up against… I mean, that is why you brought me here to the Norns' lovely Hello! magazine spread mansion, isn't it? To clue me in on who the enemy is."
"And you have earned the right to be told," said Urd. She had another videocassette in her hands. A bog-standard black one this time, which she slipped out from a sleeve bearing the Sony logo.
Verdande ejected my gold tape and slotted the new one in.
Skuld said, "This was recorded just days ago."
"What, off the telly? It isn't somebody else's life story then?"
"A broadcast from one of the commercial terrestrial stations," said Urd.
"An episode of a popular documentary series," said Verdande.
"We've trimmed it down to the relevant portions," said Skuld.
I was baffled. They'd just shown me me, some kind of magical filmic compilation of events taken from my life, Gid's Greatest Hits — and now we were about to watch an edited version of a programme off ITV or Channel 4? The contrast was almost surreal.
What the hell. Might as well play couch potato for a bit.
I leaned back, folding my arms behind my head and stretching out my legs.
"Don't suppose anybody's got any popcorn?" I said.
Twenty-Seven
Transcribed excerpts from Makepeace Meets… President Keener
Makepeace: [in studio,to camera] Good evening. I'm Peter Makepeace, and tonight on Makepeace Meets… we have a rare exclusive. For the past three weeks we've been granted continuous, unrestricted access to the subject of this episode. We've been following her every step, filming her while she handles her punishing workload, catching her on off-guard moments, interviewing her candidly one-to-one on several occasions, and also seeing her at home as she juggles the challenges of the most important and difficult job in the world with the arguably no less demanding role of wife and mother. She's a controversial figure, to put it mildly, much loved in her homeland, less so abroad, outspoken, gutsy, not afraid to stand up for what she believes in, intolerant of dissent, a strong advocate of libertarianism and individual responsibility who also implements draconian laws and espouses a hawkish foreign policy. There hasn't been a stateswoman of international standing to match her since Margaret Thatcher. She is, of course, the first female President of the United States, President Keener.
Audio Description Commentary: There is a sequence of shots. We see President Keener going over papers in the Oval Office — climbing aboard Air Force One — meeting a delegation of African heads of state — listening attentively while her daughter practises the violin.
Makepeace: Who is this woman who came from nowhere to seize the most powerful political post on the planet? How do her strong Christian principles influence and inform her decision-making? Why is America so in thrall to her that it has elected her twice, both times by a landslide? And what are her hopes and plans for the future? Over the next hour we are, I believe, going to answer those questions through our unrivalled fly-on-the-wall coverage of the day-to-day dealings of the USA's First Lady. This is Makepeace Meets… President Keener. Keep watching.
Audio Description Commentary: Peter and the president are strolling across a snow-covered White House lawn. They are well-wrapped-up against the weather. She has her arm linked through his.
Mrs Keener: People claim I play up my Georgia roots, Pete. Some of the civil liberties groups say I shouldn't be so darn proud of where I come from. The South has a history, as you may be aware, not that charming a one. But, what, I'm supposed to be ashamed 'cause of stuff my forebears did? Ain't there a statute of limitations on that kinda thing?
Audio Description Commentary: She continues over a montage of scenes of her hometown. Caption: "Wonder Springs, Georgia." We see a leafy street lined with antebellum houses — the sign outside a Baptist church — white and African-American children playing together in a schoolyard — an elderly couple in a swing chair on a front porch — customers in a diner eating pancakes — a pick-up truck driving down a lonely dirt road.
Mrs Keener: What happened back then happened. I can't change it. But if I open my mouth and all some folks hear is the voice of a segregationist or even, God forbid, a slave owner — well, I tell you, the problem ain't with me, it's with them. There's an urban intellectual elite in this country that'd like to think anyplace below the Mason-Dixon line is an embarrassment, an irrelevance, not the real America. But Pete, I beg to differ. They can't dismiss so many millions of Americans just like that. They're the minority. I believe I represent the honest, hard-working, dollar-earning, tax-paying majority. We're the ones who count, not them bow-tied, buttoned-up so-called smart guys in the college towns and the Manhattan high-rises. All they do is chatter and bellyache. The rest of us get out there and actually achieve.
Makepeace: You're just a local girl who got extraordinarily lucky? Who was in the right place at the right time?
Mrs Keener: Pete, that's precisely it! I'm nothing special. How I got to where I am today is simple. I am the people who voted me in. I'm them, and they recognise that. I'm not some overeducated lawyer or some Harvard Business School type. I'm not someone who's spent her entire life in politics and knows nothing else. I speak the same language as most Americans speak. I may not have a pretty turn of phrase or use a bunch of fancy two-bit words, but what I am is someone who says what the average American says and thinks what the average American thinks.