QBLH
The Eight of Cups:
Something is missing,
particularly on an emotional
or spiritual level
XLIV
Indolence
The emotional waters are not
so happy with logical intellect
Isis smiled. She was experiencing the pleasures of “Box” travel.
“I see,” she said thoughtfully, “your dimensional controller constructs an artificial gravity field and bends light so as to enclose us within a protected space-time continuum bubble. The spherical geometry of the Pegasus fits quite elegantly within it, does it not, Jim? And your Box envelops the Pegasus just as neatly. You travel by means of the Pegasus, yet the Pegasus itself is given the illusion of faster-than-light motion. Tell me—did you design Genie with control of the Pegasus in mind?”
“You are perceptive, my dear,” Jim replied. “Yes. Genie was designed specifically to transport the Pegasus faster than light. It functions as a detachable FTL control system. The key lies in faster-than-light information processing. Control must precede motion. We generate an immediate future and allow the body to follow, dragged forward by its own resolved outcome. The mathematics is… unpleasant.”
He smiled faintly.
“And if you recall, you never shared my enthusiasm for that particular discipline.”
Isis laughed softly.
“I shall have Genie reconstruct Shaltain’s circuits by reflashing its central processing lattice,” Jim continued. “Certain crystalline substrates must be exchanged. Genie is designing them now. Upon materialization in Artemis space, they will be ready for insertion. With his guidance, I can perform the swap myself. We required your authorization only to override Shaltain’s protective layers—safeguards that exist in all sovereign AI designs. Genie, by contrast, is easy to shut down, provided one knows the correct command sequence.”
“Which is?” Isis asked.
Jim laughed.
She was drawing secrets from him not through force, but through interest—by listening. Isis understood him in a way no one else ever had. Antiope and Helen had little patience for space-time theory. Isis was rapt.
They were kindred minds.
“And even when we die,” she would often tell him, “I shall still be with you.”
Her love was sacred—though cruel, possessive, and unapologetic. Isis did not apologize for passion. To her, life itself was sacred. All her rites revolved around fertility, survival, and renewal. The Amazons had endured extermination attempts that only sharpened her intensity. She ruled because she was respected—and loved. Mercy, however, was never guaranteed.
“Do not be naïve, Jim,” she said quietly. “I am good for you. I strengthen you. You respond to me because I challenge you. We share the light. We are twins—born together, bound together still, in the womb of eternal night. This is our secret: we are eternal lovers.”
She smiled.
“It is your nature to resist me. It is my nature to enjoy that resistance. Your struggle feeds me, even as it drains you.”
What could Jim say?
Among Earth’s people he was underestimated. With Isis, his talents were fully acknowledged. In Xanadu he was king—Qblh, consort of the Queen of Artemis, ruler of a galaxy. Were Earth to fall under Venetian dominion, he would rule there as well.
And yet—
As ruler of Venetia, and potential ruler of Earth, he believed Earth deserved the chance to govern itself. More so now than ever.
“I still say Earth is bent toward self-destruction,” Isis said. “Their survival requires intervention. We have guided them for millennia—what is a little longer? Earth remains, by precedent and intervention, within our jurisdiction, my love. You simply refuse to acknowledge it.”
She paused, then softened.
“Very well,” she said. “Your republic may continue — provisionally, my Qblh. Your wisdom pleases me. You have my respect—and that of my court. But this matter remains private. Before my people, it must never be spoken of.”
She leaned closer.
“I do expect you to advance the rights of women on Earth. Fail in this, and I will intervene. Agreed?”
“How could I not agree, my Queen?” Jim replied. “I do not question your capacity to govern—only certain of your decisions. And I oppose your deification.”
“They worship because they require an axis, I merely stand where they point. My beauty is a curse as much as a gift. I rule because I command love. If I did not embody desire, we would engineer it into our descendants. We are the fulfillment of our people’s wishes.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“Earth remains under our jurisdiction,” Isis said calmly. “I honor your policy only because I have named you my representative. I restrain myself because I have given you my word. Do not mistake restraint for surrender, my Qblh.”
She studied him for a long moment, measuring not his authority, but his resolve.
“You will walk among them,” she continued, “as lawgiver and witness. You will let them believe they are free—until they prove otherwise. This is the balance I allow you.”
Jim did not answer at once. He understood the nature of the concession she had offered: nothing had been relinquished, only deferred. Isis believed she had lost nothing at all—and in her terms, she was correct.
Still, he met her gaze evenly.
“Acceptable,” he said quietly.
“And do not underestimate yourself. Were a more advanced male possible, he would replace you. But none exists. Just as none could ever replace me in your life. We live for one another. We will die —and be reborn—together. This is destiny.”
She lifted her chin.
“Bend the light. Make it so. Encode this law into Genie.”
A wish-state had been defined. Genie required nothing further.
“So programmed,” Genie observed calmly. “From her source, Jim, I would treat it as factual.”
“Confirmation?” Genie asked.
“So be it,” Jim said.
He was not conceding—only acknowledging that Isis’s beliefs functioned as causal reality. Genie logged them accordingly. The will of the Queen of Artemis had navigational consequences.
Meanwhile, Genie prepared software routines for Shaltain’s replacement. This transit affected not only Earth’s future—but Xanadu’s as well. Shaltain would be scanned, rewritten, replaced. Between blinks of light, across light-years of causality, an empire’s governing intelligence would quietly die.
Isis broke the silence.
“Why do you not ask how I would resolve the conflict of Jerusalem?” Isis asked. “You hold me partly responsible for past interference—yet it is not my doing that your people distorted what I taught them.”
“I do not believe you should have a voice in that matter,” Jim replied.
“Foolish,” she said evenly. “At least hear me before you refuse.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Very well.”
“The land must be shared,” Isis said. “But not under competing laws. Neither Muslim law nor Jewish law will suffice. Two peoples governed by two sacred codes will always drift toward war. There must be one law to restrain both.”
She paused, letting the weight of it settle.
“Under your God’s law,” she continued. “I have acknowledged Him for your sake, and it is that promise which restrains my hand. One law—applied equally—is justice. Anything else is merely delay.”
She met his eyes directly.
“Earth remains under our jurisdiction,” she said. “I honor your policy of restraint only because I have named you my representative. Is this arrangement acceptable to you, Qblh?”
Jim knew argument would serve no purpose.
Strangely, he found that he agreed.
“Acceptable,” he said quietly.
Then, after a moment—
“But will you spare Antiope and Helen?”
