Titan

"You speak of Gaea's breath. I am a stranger to it."

"You have heard it wailing. It is a raging gale from the heavenly towers; cold from the west and hot from the east."

"Have you ever tried to talk to the angels? Will they not listen to your song?"

He shrugged again. "Who can sing to an angel, and what angel would listen?"

"I'm still bothered that no one has tried ... to negotiate with them." That word was difficult. The one she finally settled on meant "surrender," or "turn tail" in a literal sense. "If you could sit down and hear each other's songs, perhaps you could have peace."

His brow wrinkled. "How can there be the feeling-of-harmony-among siblings when they are angels?" The word he used was the same one Cirocco had picked as the best of an inadequate lot. "Peace" among Titanides was a universal condition, hardly worth comment. Between Titanides and angels, peace was a concept the language could not embrace.

"My people have no enemies of other races, but fight among ourselves," Cirocco said. "We have evolved ways of resolving these conflicts "

"This is not a problem for us. We deal well with hostility among our own kind.,,

"Maybe you could teach us about that. But for my part, I could wish that I might show you the ways We have learned. Sometimes both parties are too hostile to sit down and talk. In that case, we use a third party to sit between the enemies."

He raised one eyebrow, then lowered them both suspiciously. "If this works, why do you have need of so many weapons?"

She had to smile. it was not easy to put something over on the Titanides.

"Because it doesn't always work. Then our warriors try to destroy each other. But our weapons have grown so fearsome that no one has used them in a long time. We have become better at peace, and I offer as proof that while having been able to destroy our entire planet for at least ... make it sixty myriareys, we have not done so."

"That is the blink of an eye as Gaea turns," he sang.

"I'm not bragging. It is a terrible thing to live with the knowledge that not only your ... your hindmother and friends and neighbors can be wiped out, but every one of your kind down to the smallest stripling."

Meistersinger nodded gravely, looking impressed.

"It is up to you. Our kind can offer you more war, or the possibility of peace."

"I see that," he sang preoccupied. "It is a grave decision to make."

Cirocco decided to shut up. Meistersinger knew it was within his power to learn of the weaponry Gene offered to give.

The candle in the wall holder guttered to darkness; only the one between them survived to cast dancing light across his feminine features.

"Where could I find this one to stand in the middle? It seems to me that such a one would be hit by spears thrown from both sides."

Cirocco spread her hands. "I am willing to offer my services as an authorized representative of the United Nations."

Meistersinger studied her. "Meaning no disrespect to the you-nigh-ted-naish-uns, we have never heard of them. Why would they be interested in our wars?

"The United Nations is always interested in wars. Frankly, they are no better than we are as a whole, which is to say far from perfect."

He shrugged, as if he had assumed that from the start. "Why would you do this for us?"

"I'm going through the territory of the angels anyway, on my way to see Gaea. And I hate war."

For the first time Meistersinger looked impressed. It was plain that his opinion of her had gone up significantly.

"You did not say you were a pilgrim. This puts a new light on matters. I fear you are a fool but it is a holy foolishness." He reached across the table and took her head in his big hands, leaned over, and kissed her forehead. it was the most ritualistic thing she had seen a Titanide do, and it touched her.

"Go, then," he said. "I will think no more of new weapons. Things are fearsome enough, without taking a road that must lead to destruction. "

He paused, seeming to draw in on himself.

"If by some happenstance you should actually see Gaea, I wish you would ask her for me why my hinddaughter had to die. If she will not answer you, slap her face and tell her it's from Meistersinger. "

"I'll do that." She got up, strangely exhilarated, somehow less worried about the future than she had been in two months. She started to leave, but was curious about something,

"What was the kiss for?" she asked. He looked up.

"It was the kiss for the dead. When you leave, I will never see you again."