Read 02. Empires of Flux and Anchor Online
Authors: Jack L Chalker
"What do you plan for me now?" she asked, terrified of the answer.
"Choices. I give you choices, that's all. Despite all our efforts, your sainted friend is still at large in Anchor."
She gasped. Where had they hid all this time?
"I've been sneaking around and eavesdropping on the empire outside," he told her. "There were so many wizards that nobody noticed one more. The fools were bemoaning the fact that there was no way to selectively alter memory and personality in Flux. That
is
true, because of a little thing called the subconscious. But it is not true for those with the power. Not those who can accept the binding spell."
She saw where he was leading. "What would be in this binding spell?"
"Very little. You would simply remember things, but differently. I stole the idea from a Soul Rider spell, in fact. You would remember Flux, and emphasize its bad points on your life. You would not remember Spirit, or the child, or how you came to be here, but you would simply never even ask that of yourself. The conditioning you underwent would be reinforced. The events leading up to it would seem irrelevant. You would be madly in love with Captain Weiz, bear and raise his children, and support him utterly. You would be a model wife."
She thought about it. He was certainly leaving a few things out, of course. Illiteracy, perhaps, and a mathematical ability to count using fingers. Unquestioned obedience to Weiz and servility towards all other males went without saying. She tried to imagine herself compulsively worrying over lint on the carpet and the shine on her dishes and trading recipes. On the other hand, she'd have rank, thanks to Weiz's status, she'd have a nice place to live with all the luxuries and amenities and, alluringly, a feeling of total security for the first time in her life. She began to realize that a search for security had been the most important, perhaps the only, objective in her life the past ten years or so. She'd had adventure, travel, thrills, danger—and what did she have to show for it? Still, there was that insolent playful spirit in her, too. . . . Or was that just a mask for what she desperately wanted and never had?
"And the alternative?"
She saw the enormous, complex spell coming, but could not dodge it or deflect it. She simply didn't know how. In an instant, it had her.
"You remember that little picture of your old self that you forgot when we accidentally met before? Well, I found it, saved it, and dreamed up several improvements on it."
She was still her one hundred fifty centimeters in height, but her ample breasts were now blown to huge proportions, each as thick as her thigh and going out for a full meter. Additionally, she knew she again had a male organ, but this one was impossibly fat, like a banana, and went out from her an impossible thirty centimeters. She should have fallen over, but while the breasts and penis acted as if gravity was pulling them down, it was a sidewards pull. She felt an enormous, insatiable sexual urge.
"I do so love playing with what Anchor thinks of as natural laws like gravity," Coydt told her. "Also, I've redesigned the bottom so that there's not a scrotum in the way. It's elsewhere. You have a vagina to match the rest, and that organ is virtually prehensile, moving up and out of the way if need be. You can be like that, and I'll just leave you to wander this little area of Flux or return to Anchor with your memories. Any man who wants you, you will submit to. Any woman alone will be powerless against you. You'll eat garbage and love it, and you'll be so conspicuous that you'll never get near Spirit or the temple. Once you're in Anchor, we'll find some drugs and burn out your mind. A pet freak, an example for Anchor.
"Which do you choose? A happy life—or
this?
I have little patience left. Here is the binding spell I spoke of. Take it, embrace it, and join your husband. Or refuse it, and stay that way until hunger forces you in."
She saw the binding spell clearly in her mind, in Spirit language, but it was far too mathematically compex for her to follow. Why not take it? she asked herself. What choice do I have?
Matson and Kasdi jumped off the horses not too far from where they had gotten them and, slapping them on the rump, rolled into the brush. The pursuers, following the hoofbeats, rode right on by as fast as they could.
Matson had been forced to discard his pack, but Kasdi still had her rifle and gun belts, and Matson still had shotgun, whip, and knife. Water would be no problem, but food would.
They made their way cautiously overland to the southwest, on the lookout for more searchers. But the searchers, it seemed, had lost the trail.
"What now?" she asked him.
For a while he didn't answer, because he didn't know, but soon they reached a respectable stream flowing in the direction of their travel. He stopped and thought a minute. "If this thing goes all the way to the wall, it'll either have to empty into Flux or flood. Any big lakes in Anchor Logh?"
She thought a moment. "Not that I know of."
"Then we'll follow along here as best we can, all the way to the wall. If
it
can get through, then we might be able to. There must be hundreds of drain outlets. It's how many people sneaked in and out of Anchor in the old days."
"Well, say we can get out. What then? We can't escape."
"We can get into Flux, no matter how little. And in Flux you can conjure up what we need to survive. You can change into a bird—a little one, this time, like Haldayne does—and scout our positions. Even a few square meters of Flux will give us some kind of breather and help."
More than ever, she realized how a man with almost no Flux power had survived and prospered in a world of mad wizards for so long.
There were occasional patrols, but because the search was now over a far wider and less well-defined area, it was easy to avoid them and keep to the river. They reached the wall before daylight and saw that the water flowed through a series of huge drain pipes. There seemed to be no obstacle to passage, but they knew that could be deceptive. The great concrete pipes were all filled with a constant flow of water to almost eighty percent of their area. They studied the problem, noting the lack of guards on the wall at this point, and worried.
"I'm willing to chance it," Kasdi told him. "I can't see how they could have screens or mesh down there without all three pipes clogging up with silt and debris. But that water is fast and deep and that's a long tunnel. Can you swim?"
"I can, as a matter of fact. You?"
She shook her head slowly from side to side. "There was never any place or reason to learn."
"It won't matter," he assured her. "That current's so fast that it'll have you through before you can drown. Most of the drains I've seen from the other side are pretty level, often at ground level and rarely more than a meter's drop. The trouble is, the water will spread on the apron, so it might be shallow and tricky, and there might just be a canyon worn into it with a river this fast. That could make the drop really nasty."
"What choice have we got?" she asked him. "I mean, do we climb the wall? Surely that'll bring people running. We aren't all
that
far from one of the strong points of the shield."
"I'd say we jump in, take our chances, and let you dry us and our powder out in Flux, not to mention fixing us up."
She swallowed hard. "If I'm in any condition to do it. O.K. What do I do?"
"Take a breath, hold it, and jump in as close to the pipes as you can. Then hang on for dear life, and if you hit the sides, kick away." With that he looked for signs of life, found none, and ran into the open towards the drain and jumped in. Kasdi waited a moment, summoned up her courage, and followed.
It was a nightmare that lasted only twenty seconds or so, but it seemed an eternity. Carried along, she was surrounded by endless water and total darkness and flung at high speed against a wall of the drain. She was totally at the mercy of the flow, but, suddenly, she was plunged back into outside air and then fell into a roaring pool. She panicked, but then felt strong arms around her and let herself be pulled by them. She assumed it was Matson, but right then she didn't care who it might be.
And then, quite suddenly, the roar and the wetness stopped and they were flung and dropped onto a spongy surface. The water itself struck the Flux barrier and crackled, and was converted into energy itself and added to the void. Wracked with pain, she passed out.
When she awoke to the same formless void, it seemed almost a familiar friend. She tried to move, and found every single part of her body felt broken. She must have called out, because Matson heard and came over to her. The sight of him was almost unbearable, as he'd removed all his clothes and laid them out on the ground to dry.
"You all right?" he asked, concerned. "You had a pretty bad time in there. I got sort of banged-up myself, but not like that."
She saw that there were huge bruises on his arms and on the right side of his chest. He also had a nasty swollen place over his right eye.
"I think you got several broken bones," he told her. "You've been out a while. We're in Flux, though, so you've got your power back."
"Yeah, Flux," she responded weakly. "But the pain's tremendous! I need to do a thorough self-examination and construct—
agh!
—the proper . . . formulae and con . . . centrate. The pain . . . makes it . . . hard to . . . concentrate."
He nodded. "Take it slow and easy and one step at a time. Those forces out there got no place else to go, and I don't think anybody knows we're here." He paused a moment. "Just don't die on me, Cass."
She smiled, and drifted back into sleep. It was a turbulent, nightmarish sleep in which she was back in that roaring tunnel once again, only this time not alone. Suzl and Spirit were there, and they were drowning and she couldn't save them; the whole of Hope opened before her, but all the priestesses turned away from her and began worshipping statues, laughing statues, of Mervyn, and Krupe, and the rest of the Nine, and of Coydt and Haldayne as well. Matson was there, too; she kept trying to reach him for help, but the closer she got to him, the more out of reach he became.
She awoke again, and the pain was worse, but her mind was clearer. She looked around and didn't see Matson, but that was all right. She remembered the horror of the dream and feared she might have been calling out things best left unspoken. She tried doing a diagnostic on herself and found that she was in fact in pretty bad shape. Some of her internal injuries were serious enough that she might well have died from them, and would, if they were not corrected.
She took self-repair in slow stages, shutting off all pain from any but the area she was working on. After a few tries, she realized she just wasn't going to be able to do a piecemeal approach. She brought up and constructed a spell for a whole new body based on the old, a spell that was tremendously intricate and difficult. She almost passed out several times in doing it, but finally managed and put the spell into effect. She felt relief flow through her and lay there for a while luxuriating in that feeling.
Matson returned. He'd put on his pants, but little else, and they were still slightly wet. "I assume that's still you in there," he said after a while.
She sat up and smiled. "Yes, it's me. It's a body I designed for visiting Spirit in secret. The only one I could manage on short notice. It'll give me time to concentrate on reforming me as myself."
He nodded. "Well, it's not all that flattering, but if it lets you conjure up something to eat and a way to dry everything out, that's fine with me."
With no references, time had little meaning in the void, but they got their food and drink and dried not only the clothes but the weapons and ammunition as well, and she managed to get back somewhat to a normal appearance. Well, not quite normal. She had felt herself eighteen again, out here in the void with just Matson, and somehow she had come out looking eighteen in spite of her vows or herself. She could not have him the way she wanted him, but they were together now, alone, in Flux, and for the moment that was enough.
In a while, they decided to risk forays into Anchor to see what was going on. Borrowing a trick from Haldayne, one of the Seven she'd bested before, she turned herself into a normal-looking bird and flew out and over the wall. Matson, too, could and did become transformed by her power, and together they scouted the area.
It would have been easy if she had been able to change
back
in Anchor, but she could not, nor could she be some human-sized flying beast, for that would require either too much wing to remain inconspicuous or too much weight to stay aloft and remain in touch with the required physics. Still, they were able to map out the terrain and get a look at the guard post and the Flux machine itself. That had been the one risky point, since the wizard operating it might well have sensed her power, and any observer who saw two birds fly into the void would be instantly suspicious of them.
Both became intimately familiar with the town of Lamoine and the military post on the wall. The town disgusted her. The natives there had discarded ways and attitudes of generations very easily, and both men and women seemed to be acting under the new rules automatically and without threat or supervision. She had expected
some
laxity, particularly among women off by themselves, but she'd seen none. Of course, their proximity to Flux and a wizard would tend to make them model citizens, she reasoned. Otherwise, model citizens could be
made.
Her opinion of the human race in general took something of a beating.
There were some large, predatory species of birds in the area that had been imported from some far-off Anchor generations ago to control a rodent infestation. These had strength and speed, and she used their form to perch right on the wall near the emplacements. They used this not only to steal some more palatable food by snatching it with strong claws, but to snatch items occasionally from the emplacement as well. They didn't need much; once in Flux with one of them, she didn't have to know what it was to duplicate it.