Charon (25 page)

 
The hand was green, rough; and taloned.

 
"No!" I
shouted, my voice echoing slightly around the cave walls. "Damn it!" I took a step forward, and immediately knew the whole story. I turned and looked down and back at myself. I had big, taloned lizard's feet and thickly muscled lizard's legs, not to mention a bright green tail that was almost as long as my body without the legs. Frantically I looked around the cave, then saw over in one corner something that would do for my purposes—a large piece of shiny metal. I went over to it, picked it up, and looked at myself in the fire's reflection.

 
Horn and all, I reflected glumly. The face and torso retained some of my former appearance, but it was an odd hybrid, a combination of the features of Park Lacoch and Darva.

 
I heard someone enter behind me. I put down the shiny metal and turned. It was Darva. She stopped and looked at me, a mixture of pleasure and apprehension on her face.
"Darva, why?"
I asked her.

 
She looked a little apologetic. "I saved your life," she reminded me. "I would think you would do the same for me."

 
"I—I would," I told her honestly, "but how is changing me into a near double of you going to do that?"

 
She sighed and looked a little sad. "The only thing I lived for was revenge, and I've had that, although not the way I hoped. Now, with all this, I'm completely alone and like this forever, unless I'm changed into something even worse. The only one of my kind, Park—and never able to go home again, to see my family, to be among the few I treasure." There was a note of pleading in her voice. "Don't you see? If I had to go on alone, I'd kill myself. And there you were, and Jobrun knocked you out,
then
drew his pistol to shoot you. I saw it, and knew, somehow, it was destiny and that the gods had put you and me there like that for a reason."

 
I shook my head sadly. The truth was
,
I had to admit even to myself, that what she was saying was totally understandable and even reasonable. How could I even argue with her logic, no matter how I felt? Face facts, I said to myself. You'd be dead without her, so you owe her. And this way, you are still in the game, still playing. If the changelings were the heart of Koril's movement, then it was with the changelings I belonged. If there was any doubt about that I should have just stayed out of that square and helped Tully pick up the pieces as a loyal T.A. Besides, there were a lot worse things I could have been turned into—I ought to know. I had seen them in the square.

 
I went over to her, almost knocking over some stuff with my tail, took her hand in mine, and smiled. "I
do
understand," I told her, "and I
do
forgive you."

 
She looked instantly happy beyond measure.

 
"But you might have gotten more than you bargained for," I warned.

 
She didn't seem to hear the comment, but two big tears welled up in her green eyes. "I'm glad we're not going to have a fight."

 
I sighed. "No, no fight I admit this is going to take some getting used to in more ways than one, but I think I can live with it."

 
"Let's go outside," she suggested. "We're sort of coldblooded."

 
Well, that explained the slight chill, I thought I followed her out It was the usual hot day, with heavy humidity and
" great
clumps of white fog covering almost everything. The heat and humidity seemed to fade slowly away, though, and I began feeling very comfortable for the first time since arriving on Charon. Suddenly I was conscious of a great hunger. "What do we eat?" I asked her.

 
She smiled. "Almost anything living," she replied, and I had visions of tearing small
lizards
limb from limb. She caught my thought and laughed.
"Oh, no.
Plants, fruits, leaves, that sort of thing.
Animals, too, but I prefer mine cooked the old way."

 
"Fair enough.
Anything nearby?"

 
"There's a grove of fruit trees—cuaga melons—just down the hill here. Follow me."

 
She started off and I followed. "You say it's a grove.
Any chance of our being seen?
Tm pretty sure changelings aren't too popular right now."

 
"No, it's on the edge of Bindahar's holdings," she replied. "They won't be out this way for a couple of days, and by then we'll be long gone."

 
The melons were big, fat black and orange striped things, but they were very filling, although I had to get used to eating the rind as well.
Either my
taste sense had changed drastically—which was likely—or the humans who ate only the pulp missed something good.

 
We ate long and heavily. My old self—my original self— might have managed a whole melon, pulp only. The old Park Lacoch maybe a quarter of that. I ate seventeen, rinds and all, and still wasn't totally full.

 
"You eat a lot," Darva told me, "and whenever we can. We never get fat, though—just stronger, it seems."

 
"That's a fair trade," I admitted, feeling much better now. Once we'd eaten, it was time to talk of other things. Eating made me a little lazy and lethargic, and it was time to relax.

 
"Look—tell me a lot of things."

 
"Anything," she responded, obviously meaning it. "You don't know how very long it's been since I've had anybody to talk to, just friend to friend."

 
I nodded. "Okay. First of all, the immediate stuff. Who was the old woman who cast the spell?" Frankly, I wanted to know for more than one reason. She was the one who, at some future time, might also take it off.

 
"That was my great-grandmother—my real one," she told me. "She's had that power since I don't know when.
Maybe since she was little.
She studied with a Company sore when she was very
young,
when there weren't the lands of prejudice and tight unions they have now. But she never got the full bit. She had nine kids instead."

 
"I can see where that would slow you down," I admitted, "though she seemed powerful enough. But—why make me into your twin sister? Was that because her powers were limited?"

 
She hesitated a moment. "Well, that's not exactly true," she responded. "It's true that she had me for a model, and it's kind of tricky, making a changeling.
Do
it wrong and your brain's not right for the rest of you and you get crippled in the body or head.
There's lots
like that. So she used the same spell that bastard Isil used on me as her guide. That meant you look almost like me. But she had bunhars as models also. I was so excited I didn't even really think about it, but
she
did. You're still a male, Park—looks aside."

 
That
was interesting. It was also ironically funny, and I had to chuckle. "What's so funny?"

 
"Well, you know I wasn't born on Charon. I was sent here.
Sent here by the law."

 
She nodded. "I know. It was the talk of Thunderkor." "Well, I got into—trouble. I killed somebody, for no reason you—or even I, now—would think was right or sane. And the reason, when they found it, was that I was a hermaphrodite, a freak."

 
Her mouth formed a little circle. "Oh ... So that's why you looked a little, well, funny."

 
I nodded. "But they got me straightened out and happily male," I continued. "And now—look! I'm a male who looks like your sister!"

 
She laughed at that herself, but it brought up an interesting question. All right, I was male—but a male
what!
I asked her about it.

 
"I wondered about that myself," she said. "According to Grandmother, if we were to, ah, make it, right now nothing would happen. But as soon as the
wa
inside you gets the rest of you straight, it might just be that we could reproduce our own kind. It's not certain, but it's been known to happen. We might start a whole new race!" She looked thoughtful.
"Darvus Lacochus."
"Sounds like a disease."

 
She laughed. "You know, this is wonderful, Park. I feel more alive than I have in two years!"

 
I could see her joy, and even feel good about it. I liked her, too. Her speech was a little rough, and occasionally became even rougher. She was uneducated and inexperienced, but she was a bright, intelligent woman whose potential had been blunted by a man's cruel ego. And she was certainly tougher and more decisive than Zala—the old Zala, anyway. I idly wondered what the new Zala was like.

 
"Look," I said, "you're going to have to fill me in. What the hell happened back there in Bourget? And who did it? And why?"

 
She sighed. "Well, for a long time there's been a devil cult. You know that?"

 
I nodded.

 
"Well, anyway, it was mostly bored and frustrated women trying to get a little of the Power. But a year or two ago, things changed. How and who did it I don't know, but they got kinda taken over by this bigger group that wants to overthrow the government. It's got a real powerful sore behind it is all I know."

 
"Koril," I told her.
"Used to be Lord."

 
"Yeah, him, I think," she agreed. "Anyway, lots of folks liked him better. You didn't have any creepy guys like that security chief, and no troopers jumping out at you. Well, this sore also contacted all the changeling colonies. He promised them that when he got back they'd be given Tu-kyan, the south continent, for their own.
There's
few people down there now, and it's mostly still unexplored, but it's at least as nice as here, or so I'm told. Well, this was great for the changelings, who have no real life and no future here. The humans went along, too, because we'd be out of their hair. See?"

 
I nodded. It was very logical—and good politics on Ko-ril's part. I was beginning to see how formidable the man was, even without his reputed super magical powers. I had to wonder how Aeolia Matuze was ever able to oust him in the first place, and how she kept her power.

 
In a flash, I had it—the only logical answer. She was in the job because she backed the war against the Confederacy. The other three Lords couldn't care less about Charon—Korman said as much. Who did? The only logical answer was the aliens themselves.

 
You didn't have any creepy guys like that security chief . . .

 
Whose Chief of Security
was
Yatek Morah?
Matuze's?
Yes, but only so long as she followed the correct line. And that meant that it was very possible that the strange man with those strange eyes, that robotlike manner, that incredible power, was not human at all. And
that
meant that, while Charon was unimportant to the war, it was, for some reason, very, very important to the aliens. Why?

 
Aeolia Matuze, with her great ego and dreams of god-hood—the aliens would feed that, and in exchange, she would follow the alien line right where they said. It made sense. I wondered if Koril, even now, realized
it?
What was one Lord of the Diamond to a race prepared to disrupt and take over a thousand worlds or more?

 
"What'cha thinking?"

 
I was startled out of my reverie.
"Just putting a lot of pieces together in my head.
I'll explain them to you later. We're going to be together a long time, and it's a long and complicated story."

 
"Together," she sighed. "You don't know how good that sounds."

 
"First, some basics.
How come I don't trip over my tail when I walk or tip over on the run? I feel pretty natural in this body."

 
"It was a good spell, with all the necessaries."

 
I nodded. That was good enough for me. "Okay then— where do we go from here?"

 
"Far away," she responded quickly, "and fairly fast. This place is a day's march from Bourget, but it'll soon be crawling with government troops. Probably already is. We have a number of defenses—including the ability to stand absolutely still. You'd be surprised, but big as we are, if we're all surrounded by green and stay completely still they'll run right past us."

 
"Handy," I told her, "but the weaponry suddenly turned a lot more modern around here than I was used to, and the good stuff has heat sensors."

 
She laughed.
"So what?
They tried them in hunting. Our body temperature's pretty much the same as our surroundings. They're nearly useless."

 
I hadn't thought of that angle. "Still, I'd just as soon be away from here—fast. How well do you know the land beyond this region?"

 
"Fair," she responded. "Worse if we get more than a hundred kilometers from here. I never traveled much. But I know where the roads are, even though we can't use them—and I have landmarks from maps in my head. They made us memorize a bunch of them."