Read MacRoscope Online

Authors: Piers Anthony

Tags: #sf, #sf_social, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Science Fiction, #Science fiction; American

MacRoscope (30 page)

“That sounds close enough. But it is really so general it could apply to almost anyone.”

“We’ll try to get more specific — one planet at a time. You can’t divide all humanity into twelve basic groupings without being general. By the time we check ten planets against twelve houses and twelve signs and verify with the symbols of the ascendants and overall patterns, we begin to have definition resembling that of the macroscope. Now where do you see the moon?”

“Right beside the sun. Same house.”

“The moon represents feeling.”

“So that’s feeling in understanding. To know her is to love her?” He said it lightly, but knew it had happened to him.

“No, that’s an outside impression, not controlled by her horoscope. It’s what
she
feels and understands that’s important here. Specifically: ‘The moon in the ninth house centers all personal experience in issues of morality, elevating ends and reasons above practical needs. This position exaggerates every concern over ideas and motives. The native at his best is able to approach reality with an understanding support for every human capacity, and at his worst he is apt to worry over abstractions and dissipate every impulse to action.’ Do you recognize Afra there?”

“Yes, in a way. You know, this is — well, isn’t it really pretty private? I have the feeling I’m prying into things that aren’t my business.” He saw that he was tacitly admitting an acceptance of astrology, but didn’t care. “Nudity of the body is one thing, but—”

“Good point. I consider a person’s detailed horoscope to be very like the privileged information given to a lawyer, or perhaps a priest. Or medical or financial statements. This is one reason I hesitated to show you her chart before. But if we are to pass a judgment on her that may affect her entire life—”

Ivo saw the point. “I’ll — keep all this confidential. Even if she doesn’t believe in astrology, or
I
don’t, it’s still—”

Groton went on to another section. “The signs of the ecliptic define character. There are twelve of them, spaced similarly to the houses, but they are not identical to the houses. That’s why we have to mark their symbols; the indications around the edge are only approximate, since the signs are not geometrically defined in the manner of the houses. Where do you spot the sun this time?”

“The sign is a cross between a square-root symbol and a hunchbacked musical note.”

“That’s Capricorn — the Goat. This is—”

Ivo interrupted him to run down a nagging connection. “What did you say Schön was?”

“Aries — the Ram. You can recognize his symbol by the spreading horns, situated in this case at the cusp of the twelfth house.”

“I see it. The circle with the antlers.”

“No, not that one; that’s Taurus the Bull. Next above it.”

Ivo located the correct symbol. “So that’s how you separate the sheep from the goats! But what’s Aries doing on the Goat’s chart? I thought—”

“All houses and all signs appear on all charts. There’s a little of everything in every person’s makeup. But the positions of the planets show the emphasis for any one person. Schön’s sun is in Aries, while Afra’s Mars is in Aries; an entirely different matter, I assure you.”

“The sun is more important?”

“That depends on the configuration. Generally, it is; that’s why the popularized horoscopes use it, though that’s like saying that your brain is more important than your heart. Aries rules the brain, coincidentally. But you can’t get along without either one. In Afra’s case Mars does have great weight, and perhaps makes her as much a fire person as is Schön. But the combination of sun, moon and Mercury in Capricorn puts enormous stress on earth — well, I don’t want to get off into subjective interpretation. This is a BUCKET pattern, and the handle-planet, Mars, reveals a special capacity or important direction of interest. So this aspect of her chart indicates initiative and extreme self-containment.”

Ivo was beginning to get lost, much as he had when Brad attempted a “simplified” explanation. He did see the bucket-shape, however, with the handle toward the left and a semicircle of filled slices to the right. “So the way Afra just went ahead on her own to revive Brad, without worrying about the risk or what she would do afterward — that was spelled out the moment she was born? Because Mars happened to be in Aries? And you could have predicted—”

“It’s hardly that simple, Ivo. There are so many other factors, and she could have reacted in some entirely different fashion. Hindsight is no justification. But I did foresee some kind of crisis. There is an activation of Saturn at about this time in her life, following the emphasis of Mars that seemed to account for her prior problem with Brad. When he became destroyed. In another year there is a predomination of Uranus. That’s three crises in fairly rapid order, for her — but the timing can vary by a year or more either way, and I simply cannot pin any of these down precisely.”

“But the odds are she’ll have a third crisis as bad as the first two, within a year?”

“In your terms, that about sums it up. Remember, I make no claim to—”

“I remember. Is it possible for me to read this chart and look up the descriptions myself? You said you wanted to get an independent opinion—”

“I don’t think you’d find it very instructive, Ivo. It takes years to—”

“I’ll bet the chart on me says somewhere that I like to do things for myself.”

“Not exactly.” Then Groton paused, catching the hint. “As you wish. Here are the texts. Here are the listings of symbols I wrote out, and you already have the chart. There are things I haven’t explained yet, such as the grand trine in fire, and—”

“I think I have enough to go on. Suppose you leave me to it for an hour or so? I may misread terribly, but I’ll try to come up with a notion where I stand. Then we can decide about the trial. And I think I’d better have the other charts, too, for comparison.”

“It’s in the stars,” Groton said, yielding with good grace, and left him to it.

Ivo began by checking Beatryx’s chart. It was a twelve-slice disk like the first, but the markings differed. In the center it gave her date and place of birth: February 20, 1943, 6:23 CST a.m., Dallas, Texas, 33N 97W. Geographic coordinates, he decided. Below were several mathematical notes and the word SEE-SAW. He ignored these and concentrated on the symbols.

He found the sun in the first house, just as Groton had said. “Purpose in identity,” he murmured, and leafed through the nearest text until he came to a section titled “The Planets in the Twelve Houses.” A glance at the description assured him that he had researched correctly.

With more confidence he located the moon in the seventh house. “Feeling in partnership,” he said, checking his lists. He found the place and read: “…at his best is able to find common elements in his associations with any other individuals, and at his worst he is apt to make things unnecessarily hard for himself.” He recollected the interests she shared with him, poetic and musical, that had only appeared when there was need for conversation and companionship, and nodded. He also recalled her intensely personal reaction to Afra’s folly.

He tried next for the signs. Her sun was in Pisces: purpose in sympathy. The first volume was open at the houses and he wanted to keep his place, so he opened the second. It was an old, weathered tome.

“Pisces produces a very sensitive nature…” he read. “Longing to understand and forgive his fellow men, to feel himself one with them and above all to succor those who are ill-treated by the world… vaguely sad idealism…often somewhat of a Cinderella in practical life…”

He paused to think about that, too. It was as apt a description of Beatryx as he could imagine. It was almost as though the passage had been written with her in mind.

He flipped back to the title page:
Astrology and Its Practical Application
, by E. Parker. Translated from the Dutch. Published in 1927.

Fifteen years or more before Beatryx had been born.

He checked her chart again and located the moon in Virgo. “Feeling in Assimilation,” he thought. The book said: “There is much love for the fine arts, especially for literature. Works of art are often inwardly enjoyed without its being much shown…”

Excited, now, he went to the other text — one copyrighted 1945 by one Marc Edmund Jones — and looked up moon-in-Virgo for confirmation. “Reacts to others with a deep hunger for common experience…”

Be objective
, he told himself.
You’re only reacting to what matches
.

But still he wondered…

He drew forth Afra’s chart and began looking up its elements and making notes. Even so, he quickly lost track of the multiple factors, and found some conflicts between texts. Finally he decided to handle it in businesslike fashion: he made a table of the abbreviated elements, so that he could consider it as a unit:

 

PLANET | HOUSE | SIGN | DESCRIPTION

Sun |
9th
| Cap. | purpose X understanding, discrimination

Moon |
9th
| Cap. | feeling X understanding, discrimination

Mars |
12th
| Aries | initiative X confinement, aspiration

Venus |
8th
| Sag. | acquisitiveness X regeneration, administration

Merc. |
9th
| Cap. | mentality X understanding, discrimination

Jup. |
6th
| Libra | enthusiasm X duty, equivalence

Sat. |
7th
| Sag. | sensitiveness X partnership, administration

Ur. |
4th
| Leo | independence X home, assurance

Nep. |
6th
| Scorp. | obligation X duty, creativity

Plu. |
5th
| Virgo | obsession X offspring, assimilation

 

Ivo contemplated his production with a certain frustrated pride. He had made an unintelligible horoscope intelligible; he had reduced voluminous verbiage to its essence. Chaos to order, as it were — and he still didn’t know what to make of it. There was a lot of discrimination, tied in with purpose, feeling and mentality, and this certainly seemed to reflect Afra’s drives. But understanding tied in with the same three qualities. Then there was enthusiasm for duty and equivalence; obligation for duty and creativity; obsession for offspring and assimilation?

What did all this say about her probable reaction to a Tritonian trial? Would it help her, or would it drive her to suicide? Or would she see through it all and laugh?

Afra was a
person
, not a chart or a table.

He should have left the astrology to Groton.

Ivo shook his bursting head as though to rattle loose a productive notion and put the papers aside. He went to his own apartment and picked up the box that held his useless artifacts of Earth. He had never returned them to his clothing after the melting. The penny should still be there, amidst the junk… yes, his questing fingers found the disk. He fished it out without looking, flipped it into the air, caught it and slapped it against his wrist. “Heads we try her, tails we forget it,” he said aloud. Then he looked.

It was the bus token, possessing neither head nor tail.

 

Groton rapped for attention. “We do not need to be unduly formal. Ivo, you’ve been assigned to prosecute. Please make your case.”

Ivo rose, feeling for a moment as though he were actually in a formal courtroom, addressing a jury of twelve. “Harold, it is my purpose to demonstrate beyond reasonable doubt that Afra Summerfield did willfully and with malice aforethought murder Bradley Carpenter. She—”

Afra jumped to her feet in a fury. “What a thing to say! Of all the ridiculous, unwarranted, slanderous—”

She broke off, seeing the other three silent and solemn.

Groton turned slowly to address her. “You are of course entitled to express yourself, Afra. But it would be better if you let Beatryx speak in your defense. We do need to ascertain the truth of this matter, if we are to exist in harmony here.”

She subsided, pitiful in her misery and sudden uncertainty. “Yes, of course, Harold. I understand.”

“Proceed, Ivo, if you please.”

“We have here a pampered and arrogant young woman of the upper middle class. She was raised to believe herself superior to the common folk, by reason of the purity of her breeding, the finances of her family and the quality of her education. She possesses an alert mind and tends to deem those of more leisurely intellect to be inferior for that reason, too. At the same time, she resents those of demonstrably greater intelligence than hers, since such people appear by her definition to occupy a higher niche in the hierarchy. They are, in a word, superior.”

Afra watched him, appalled. “Is that what you really believe? That I—” But she halted again, seeing his impassive demeanor. “I’m sorry. I won’t interrupt again.”

“Now picture the situation that obtained when she became employed within the orbiting Macroscope Project as a high-powered secretary. Many — perhaps most — of the trained personnel there exceeded both her education and her natural ability. Compared to them she was both ignorant and stupid. Surely this fostered in her a state of continuing resentment. No one likes to believe himself to be inferior, or to have others believe it, whatever the actual case may be.”

Ivo had intended to overstate the case, not really believing it himself, but he found himself responding to his own rhetoric. In accusing her, he was voicing some of his own attitudes.
He
felt inferior, and he had never liked it. And Afra
was
an intellectual snob.

“In addition, these personnel were multiracial. Negroes, Mongolians and halfbreeds were ranked above her, inherently and socially. Even certain members of the maintenance crew were able to earn privileges she was denied. Remember, she is Georgia-born. To her, such persons are niggers, chinks and spies, tolerable so long as they ‘keep their place’ but never to be acknowledged as equals, let alone betters. These were also of foreign nationalities and foreign ideologies: to wit, socialist, communist and fascist. To her, a belch after a meal is uncouth and a cheek-to-cheek greeting between members of the same sex disgusting.”

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