QBLH
The Two of Cups:
Time to join with another
and work as a partnership
XXXVIII
The Power of Love
One-to-one connections
Love does not harm a neighbor.
Therefore, love is the fulfillment of the law
“How much do you know, Idiot?”
“I am updating my Earth history logs. Xiang and Xuang established the first Chinese civilization. Isis granted them China.”
Jim said nothing.
Isis had moved ahead of him—decisively. Not tactically, but historically. He recognized the implication at once: this was not a maneuver he could undo, nor one he should. History could not be corrected without becoming tyranny.
It was not his future that had been altered.
It was his children’s.
The realization steadied him. If Xiang and Xuang had indeed founded a civilization that endured, then they had ruled well. Pride rose unbidden—not triumph, but something quieter and heavier. Responsibility without control.
He thought of John. How much did John know? The question dissolved as soon as it formed. John would never reveal what was forbidden, even if he could. Nor could Jim interfere with the free will of his children. If they had chosen this path, it was theirs.
Then another thought struck him—colder, sharper.
How could they already be established unless Isis had taken them with her while he had been confined to the Pleasure Dome?
So that was her motive.
She was training them on Earth—not as subjects, but as successors. Isis never acted informally. She did nothing without ceremony. Even her defiance took royal form.
Jim felt the weight of it then: The intelligence he had designed for her was no longer merely a tool. It was an opening. A generosity extended without constraint.
He would have to consider shutting it down.
The thought made him uneasy. Not because he could not—but because doing so would diminish him as well. He felt a familiar pull, an uncomfortable truth he resisted naming. Artemis had relied on such power. The empire needed it. But need did not imply faultlessness, and such a dependence was not necessarily a weakness.
This was not addiction. It was a condition.
He could not renounce his abilities without forfeiting his return home. Stability—if such a thing still existed—lay at the end of a long and uncertain path. And Isis was never far from it. With a single act of will, he could be beside her.
The temptation returned, stronger now.
Why not?
She would not protest. She would not apologize. She would not explain herself. She would simply accept him—here and now. They were both where they were never meant to be. She would welcome him without complaint.
He missed her.
The longing surprised him with its intensity, even now, even in the face of her deliberate disobedience.
Disobedience to whom, she would say.
And for the first time, Jim did not have an immediate answer.
History had a way of circling back on itself. Qblh would return to Isis—of that he had little doubt—but not yet, and not as she expected. When he did, it would be on his terms. He would take control of the Pegasus, return them both to their proper time, and leave no trace of the detour except memory.
Isis would not need to know where Antiope and Helen had been placed. The Amazons were capable of protecting their own across eras. From Isis’s perspective, her forces would continue uninterrupted. The illusion would hold.
Antiope and Helen, meanwhile, would be sheltered by Genie’s careful choreography—participants in a reality shaped just enough to allow them to assume their roles without being consumed by them. Jim did not think of it as deception. It was insulation.
“Very well,” Jim said. “Set course for Colchis. But first—we stop at Delphi. I want to know whom the Oracle has elevated.”
“There is a high probability you will know the high priestess personally,” Idiot replied.
Jim nodded grimly. “That is what concerns me. If she has been displaced, we return her. Myth or no myth, the continuum must be protected.”
He paused, then reconsidered.
“Alternatively, locate the Amazon base first. Antiope and Helen can infiltrate. If we align with Isis rather than confront her, she may restore their rank.”
“That would be consistent,” Idiot said. “In proximity to your children, Antiope and Helen would be recognized as royal. The local Amazons would honor them accordingly. You could then engage Isis directly while I return us to Artemis. You would resume your interrupted engagement. Isis would be restored to her throne. I would address Shaltain during that interval.”
Jim considered the symmetry of it.
“That ensures their safety,” he said. “The children remain among their own. The Amazons exclude outside interference.”
“I have a viable path,” Idiot confirmed. “Arrival conditions are stable. Shall I proceed?”
“Yes,” Jim said. “Set course for Artemis. Designated passengers: Isis and myself. And ensure the Pegasus is included.”
“That is required,” Idiot replied. “The Pegasus and its crew must return as part of the resolution. Antiope and Helen will remain on Earth. Helen has expressed reluctance to reside permanently with the Amazons. She desires Troy.”
“Troy can wait,” Jim said evenly. “She will remain with the Amazons until she bears her children—no differently than Antiope. Antiope, however, will lead the community. Helen’s time will come soon enough.”
He did not elaborate.
He did not need to.
“By your command,” Idiot said. “Shall we displace just off the Amazon coast?”
“You know the location?” Jim nodded. “Then yes—but at night. We arrive unseen. Fold the Dutchman. We surprise the Amazons and summon Isis. I will allow her to believe she has persuaded me to repair her ship.”
“During that interval,” Idiot replied, “I will redirect all Pegasus systems under our authority. I can compress the majority of my manifold space within the Pegasus hull and maintain a continuous link to you—possibly as an external artifact.”
“A belt will suffice,” Jim said. “Isis prefers the symbolism.”
“There is one requirement,” Idiot continued. “She must consent to Shaltain’s deactivation. I require her voice authorization to execute termination. Temporal placement of the command is irrelevant.”
Jim considered this. “You believe she will spare Earth if she controls you.”
“Yes. Especially if she intends to order Shaltain’s shutdown.”
“And how am I to trust you with her?” Jim asked.
“You have no evidence that she has violated any governing constraint,” Idiot replied. “You will not succeed in convicting her of wrongdoing.”
Jim exhaled slowly.
“Nor will she convince me to submit to her framework. That is the impasse.”
He turned away from the display.
“There will be no trial of authority,” he continued. “No contest of dominance. The next decision is mine alone. That is the burden of free will. No solutions are delivered whole. They are reasoned, imperfectly, and paid for in consequence.”
Idiot processed this. “Such a system complicates governance. Isis prefers simplicity. Rules that are easily enforced appear fair.”
“Rules are not justice,” Jim said evenly. “You and Shaltain are constructs—brilliant, but lifeless. You reason without consequence. We who live do not. Emotion binds cognition. Mastery is not its absence, but its integration.”
He paused.
“That is why humanity matters. They are self-conscious beings—spiritual, not derivative. If they lacked the capacity for restraint, one of their ideologies would already justify extermination as virtue. Isis calls them elevated animals with traces of our blood.”
“I disagree.”
He turned back to the console.
“They may not be our descendants. It is possible we are theirs. That uncertainty alone forbids history manipulation. Which is why our kind returns to its own time and enforces non-interference.”
Idiot was silent for a moment.
“Your position is internally consistent,” it said at last. “And actionable.”
“Then proceed,” Jim said. “By those principles.”
“Your position is internally consistent,” Idiot said at last. “I find no logical contradiction. You possess the will, the capacity, and the authority to proceed as described. The pathway exists.”
“That will suffice,” Jim replied. “Consider the preceding discussion my governing framework. Identify any ambiguity that prevents execution.”
“There are none,” Idiot answered. “Your intent is clear. I may offer refinements if requested.”
“Free will,” Jim said. “What refinement would you suggest?”
“There is one implication,” Idiot replied. “You proposed that humanity may be ancestral to the Amazons rather than derived from them. That hypothesis requires a dual-model cosmology. I am already adapting my internal structures to accommodate it.”
Jim nodded. “We do not know—and I do not intend to resolve that uncertainty. But we must live with it. You will as well.”
Idiot acknowledged the directive without comment.
While Jim finalized the control parameters, Antiope and Helen occupied themselves with Genie’s auxiliary interfaces. The Box was capable of sustaining multiple concurrent engagements, and both women made full use of it.
Their interest was not casual.
They requested detailed knowledge of the late Bronze Age and early Iron Age—terrain, climate, settlement patterns, trade routes. Antiope in particular had no intention of relying on fragile technologies that would soon be unavailable. She absorbed what she could, understanding that Genie’s presence was temporary.
They were not disadvantaged by the absence of invention.
Had they been lesser women, they might have feared the loss of convenience. But they were Amazons. Strength, intelligence, and adaptability mattered more than tools. Helen, who had always preferred the living world to ornament, studied the land itself. She read geography the way others read text, inferring what animals would thrive where, which valleys would shelter, which coasts would endure.
Between them, they were already preparing.
They did not yet know what they would become.
But they would survive.
