"When they fall on a suitable world-Iapetus is perfect: no air, rocky, plenty of sunlight, not too large and not too small-they take root. In 50,000 years the infant Titan is ready to be born. At that stage, she has covered an entire hemisphere of the birthing body. That's how Iapetus locked seventy-five years ago; one side was significantly brighter than the other.
"The Titan infant then contracts until she is a thick band that circles the world from pole to pole. That is what Iapetus has become. My daughter has delved deep. She has reached to the core to find the elements she needs for viability. I'm afraid that Iapetus had been quite looted by now; my grandmother, and her mother before her, all used that one moon.
"My daughter is engaged in synthesizing the fuels she will need to break free of Iapetus. That should happen in five or six years. When she is ready-and not a day before, because once horn she will contain all the mass she will ever have---.she will blast herself into space. It's likely that Iapetus will split in the process, like the one that eventually became the Rings. Then--"
"You're saying Titans are responsible for the Rings?" Gaby asked.
"Didn't I just state it?" Gaea looked a bit annoyed, but was quite absorbed in her story.
"That was long ago, and you can't hold me responsible. At any rate, once free my daughter will kill her present rotation and begin to spin as I do. The part of her that will become her hub is presently touching the surface of Iapetus. In space, this will contract, pulling the spokes out behind it. She will spin faster, stabilizing, fill herself with air, begin moving mountains inside her to prepare for -the creatures that will ... well, you get the picture. I ramble when talking of my daughter, like any parent, I suppose."
"No, no, I'm fascinated," Cirocco said. "Your daughter will have Titanides and angels and blimps inside her?
Gaea chuckled. "Not Titanides, I suspect. If she fancies them she'll have to invent them herself, like I did."
Cirocco shook her head. "You've left me behind."
"Simple enough. Most of my species are descendants of creatures Titans sheltered when we were created. Each egg I release contains the seeds of a million species, such as the electronic plants. I don't think my builders cared much for machines. They grew everything they needed, from clothing to houses to circuit.
"The Titanides and angels are different. You wondered, before you got used to them, how it was possible for them to look so human. The answer is simple. I used humans as a model. Titanides were easy, but angels ... the headaches! Your storytellers were much more fanciful than practical. The wingspread had to be tremendous to get them off the ground, even with my low gravity and high air pressure. I'll admit they don't look like the Biblical model, but they work! The basic problem, you see, was--"
"You made them yourself," Cirocco said. "Everything about them, from scratch."
"I just said that, didn't I? I designed the DNA. It's no more difficult for me than making a clay model is for you."
"Everything about them is your design. And you got the basic ideas over the radio, which means they couldn't be very old as a culture. We haven't been broadcasting very long by your standards."
"Less than a century, for the Titanides. The angels are younger than that."
"Then... then you are a God. I don't want to get theological here, but I think you know what I mean."
"For all practical purposes, here in my little corner of the universe ... yes, I am." She folded her hands and looked smug.
Cirocco looked longingly at the door. It would be so nice to go through it and try to forget this ever happened.
What did it matter if this person was an insane survivor of the builders? Cirocco asked herself. She had control of the world they called Gaea. It made no difference if she was in fact identical to it; she was the ultimate power, either way.
And oddly enough, Cirocco found herself liking her in her unguarded moments, until she recalled what had brought her to the hub in the first place.
"There are two things I want to ask you," Cirocco said, as firmly as she dared.
Gaea sat up alertly.
"Please, go ahead. There happen to be two things I want to ask you, as well."
"I ... you? Ask me?" The idea was completely unexpected. Cirocco was nervous enough at the idea of bringing up Ringmaster. She knew she and her crew had been wronged, but how do you say that to a Goddess? Cirocco wished she had even a thousandth of the bravado that had enabled her to stand in the hub and shout curses to the empty air. "What could I possibly do for you? "
Gaea smiled.
"You might be surprised."
Cirocco glanced at Gaby, who widened her eyes slightly and surreptitiously crossed her fingers.
"The first ... ah, the first concerns the Titanides." Damn it, that was supposed to he number two. But it wouldn't hurt to test the water.
"A Titanide called Meistersinger ….." She sang his name, then went on. "He asked me to ... if I ever got so far as to see you, to ask why they must be at war."
Gaea frowned, but in confusion more than anger. "Surely you have deduced that."
"Well, yes, I did. Aggression against angels is built into them. It's an instinct, and the reverse is true for the angels."
"That's precisely correct."
"And since you designed them, you must have had a reason ... "
Gaea looked surprised.
"Well, of course. I wanted to have a war. I'd never heard of them until I began watching your television programs. You people seemed to like them so much, holding one every few years, that I thought I'd give it a try."
Cirocco could think of nothing to say for a very long time. She realized her mouth was open.
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"Utterly."
"I don't know quite how to put this."
Gaea sighed. "I wish you wouldn't be afraid of me. I assure you, you are in no danger from me."
Gaby leaned forward. "How can we know that? You ….." She stopped herself, and glanced at Cirocco.
"I destroyed your ship. That's item two on the agenda, I'm sure. There are many things you don't know about that. Would you like some more coffee?"
"Not now, thank you," Cirocco said, hastily. "Gaea, or your holiness, or whatever I'm supposed to call you-"
"Gaea is fine."
"-we don't like war. I don't, and I don't think any sane person does. Surely you've seen anti-war movies, too."
She frowned, and chewed on a knuckle.
"Of course I have. But they were in the minority, and even then, they were popular. They contained more bloodshed than most of the pro-war movies. You say you don't like war, but why are you so fascinated by it?"
"I don't know the answer to that. All I know is I hate war, and the Titanides hate it, too. They would like to see it stopped. That's what I came here to ask you."
"No war?" She peered at Cirocco suspiciously.
"No."
"Not even a skirmish now and then?"
"Not even that. "
Gaea's shoulders slumped, then heaved in a great sigh. "Very well," she said. "Consider it done."
"I hope it wouldn't be too much trouble," Cirocco went on. "I don't know how you go about--"
"It's done[" The room was lit by a flash of lightning that made a crown around Gaea's head. The thunderclap brought Gaby and Cirocco to their feet. Gaby had her sword half out of its scabbard, standing between Cirocco and Gaea.
Several uncomfortable seconds passed.
"I didn't mean to do that," Gaea said, her hands fluttering nervously. "It was just... well, something of a disappointment." She sighed, and motioned them to their seats.
"I should have said it's being done," she elaborated, when things had calmed down. "I'm recalling all the angels and Titanides. The re-programing will take a while."