"So it's like that. I should expect it by now, but I'm always a little surprised. I'm not denying you took risks you would rather not have taken. I suppose I can to some degree understand your resentment for having to prove yourselves before receiving my gifts. But consider my position. If I gave the things I have the power to give for free, I would soon be swamped with every mendicant, solicitator, fakir, conjuror, sponger, and just plain bum from Mercury to Pluto."
"I don't see the problem," Robin could not resist saying. "There are plenty of chairs, and you've made a good start already. You could form a choir."
"So you still have a sharp tongue. Ah, would that I were human so its delicious lash would sting properly. Alas, I am indifferent to your contempt, so why waste it? Save it for those who are weak, who desert their comrades in time of need, who weep and soil themselves in the depths of their fear. In short, for those who have not proved themselves as you have done."
Robin felt the blood drain from her face.
"Did anyone ever tell you," Chris put in quickly, "that you talk just like the villain in a cheap murder mystery?"
"If you are telling me so now, you are the twelfth this year." She shrugged. "So I like old movies. But I tire of this. The second feature of the night begins in a few minutes, so-"
"What was the dancer about?" Robin blurted. She was surprised as soon as she asked it, but for some reason she felt it was important.
Gaea sighed.
"Do you people cherish no mystery? Must everything be made plain? What's wrong with a few minor enigmas to invest your lives with a little spice?"
"I hate mysteries," Chris said.
"Very well. The dancer is a cross between Fred Astaire and Isadora Duncan, with a few pinches of Nijinsky, Baryshnikov, Drummond, and Gray. Not the actual people, mind you-though I'd love to rob a few graves and sift bones for genes suitable for cloning-but homologues made from the records they left in life, written up in nucleic acids by yours truly, and given the breath of life. The dancing man is a very adept tool of my mind, as this meat is also a tool," Gaea paused to thump her chest-"but he is a tool nonetheless. In a sense, both he and this speaker dance in my brain; this one for talking to ephemeral creatures, he for a purpose I will get to in a moment. But first, I would expect that despite your distaste, you are curious to know the answer to a certain question, namely: did you or did you not grab the golden ring? Will I send you home as you are or cured?" She lifted an eyebrow and looked at each of them in turn.
Robin, though it pained her to admit it, was all ears. Part of her said that it was all right, that she had not set out to play Gaea's game, and if she had done something along the way to earn the prize, it would be monumental stupidity to refuse it. But something deeper whispered treason. You did not fight very hard when invited on this geste, it said. You always wanted the prize. But she would not let Gaea see her eagerness.
"I always like to get your own opinions first before announcing my decisions," Gaea said. She leaned back in her chair and laced her stubby fingers together over her belly. "Robin, you go first."
"No opinion," Robin said promptly. "I don't know how much you know of the things I did or failed to do. I might as well assume you know it all, down to the blackest secrets of my heart. This is an interesting reversal, I guess. Before, it was me who scorned your rules and Chris who was fascinated by them-or at least I thought he was. Now I don't know. I've thought a lot about the things that happened. I'm ashamed of many of them, including my inability when I got here to admit any human weaknesses. Whatever you do or don't do to me, I've gained something. I wish I knew exactly what it was, and I wish it didn't hurt so much to have it, but I wouldn't go back to what I was."
"You sound a little wistful about that."
"I am."
"Things are usually easier when you don't have to look at yourself. But that attitude would not have worn well."
"I suppose not."
"There will be greater satisfactions ahead."
"I wouldn't know about that."
Gaea shrugged. "I could well be wrong. I never assume the cloak of infallibility when predicting the behavior of creatures with free will. I do have considerable experience, however, and I feel that as you said, win or lose, you are stronger for what you have gone through."
"Perhaps."
"My decision, then, is that you have earned a cure."
Robin looked up. She would not say thank you, and it saddened her a little to see that Gaea did not expect her to.
"In fact, you have already been cured and are free to go any time you choose. I'll wish you good luck, though I wonder-"
"Just a minute. How could I already be cured?"
"While you watched the dancing man. When you and Chris entered the elevator down at the rim, I quickly put you to sleep, just as I did the first time. Then it was necessary to determine the nature of your affliction and the means to cure it, if indeed it could be cured. Some things elude even me. Without that examination I could not have offered the pact I did. This time was more to my advantage than yours. I needed to know what you had done since I last saw you. I examined your experiences, tasted them thoroughly, and made my decision. You were aware of no transition. You didn't notice waking up because I fabricated your ride in the elevator and eased you back into consciousness, blending the man who dances in my mind with the real fellow who wears real spats. You probably noticed a sense of unease, but I am quite adept at this by now, and while I can't explain my methods, I can assure you they are sound and scientific. If you object, you should-"
"Just a minute," Chris said. "If you-"
"Don't interrupt me," Gaea said, wagging a finger. "Your turn will come ... you should, as I was saying, bear in mind the old warning about accepting rides from strangers. Especially in here."
"I remember a very long ride," Robin said, suddenly angry. "It was a long way down. Now I find the ride back up was a trick, too."
"I don't apologize for it. I don't need to, and I don't want to. Everyone takes that long ride down. It usually impresses them with their own mortality; Chris, I believe you are the only person so far who has not remembered that Big Drop to his dying day."
"I want to say something that-"
"Not yet. Robin, you were about to speak."
She looked hard at Gaea.
"All right. How do I know I'm cured? You can't expect me to trust you after what you did the last time I was here."
Gaea laughed. "No, I suppose not. There is no consumer protection in here. And I admit a fondness for tricks. But my reputation in this is flawless. I swear to you now that-barring future injuries to your head, which has been known to prompt epileptic seizures-you have thrown your last fit. Chris, it is now your turn. What do you think of-"
"I want to say something. I don't know if you've cured me or not, but if you did, you shouldn't have. You had no right."
This time both of Gaea's eyebrows lifted.
"You don't say. I was just going to ask if you thought you deserved a cure, but you've grown so cocky that the answer must surely be yes."
"My answer is no answer. But I do have an opinion. You sent me out to be a hero, and I returned alive. That alone should count for something. But I don't believe in heroes anymore. I just believe in people coping with their lives as best they can. You do what you have to do, and in some ways you have no more choice about it than a rock has about falling from a high place. I spent the first part of my trip examining everything I did, from shooting the rapids to brushing my teeth, wondering if it was a heroic thing to do. Then I did a few things I was pretty sure passed the test, and I realized the test was a fake. You take your standards from comic books and then watch people dance. I despise you."