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Authors: Piers Anthony

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"I would like to interview a Weew scientist or other learned entity, if this can be arranged."

"It can be arranged," Psyche said happily. She was making herself useful, and it illuminated her. She crossed the room again, her tresses drawing back prettily as she traveled. There was something about the human form, at least as it was expressed by the nascently mature female, that had a peculiar appeal.

She spoke into a decorative communicator, styled to resemble a two-thousand-year-old Solarian vidphone. "Call to educated scientist of Weew, from Herald the Healer, Kastle Kade."

There was a silence of several seconds. Then the form of a Sador sapient appeared in the screen. Its wheel spun.

"Swees of Weew, in Transfer, vocation logistic mathematician retired, avocation specialty Bhyo literature of pre-Sphere century. Segment doctorates in each subject. Will the Healer converse with me?"

Herald made a silent human whistle. When he asked for an educated Weew, that was exactly what he got!

"I am gratified that an entity of your qualifications has chosen to respond. Permit me to explain that I am—"

"It is well known that the greatest Healer of the Cluster is visiting our planet to resolve the alleged Possession of the heiress of Kade, and that he also specializes in heraldic definition." For a moment the Shield of Arms of the family of Swees of Weew flashed on the screen. "It is my privilege to assist you without the burden of further explanation on your part."

"This is generous," Herald said, slightly miffed by the evident publicity his effort had received. He did not regard himself as such a celebrity. "This does not concern the heiress of Kade, but a client of your own Segment. Could you tell me whether a specialist in astronomy would be subject to shock merely by what he observed in research?"

"Oh, is Hweeh there already?"

"You know about that too?" Herald asked, astonished.

"He hails from the planet I was named after, Swees, so naturally I am interested. But to answer your substantive question: No, such an entity would hardly be shocked in that manner. Hweeh is our leading research astronomer, noted for a number of conceptual breakthroughs. I have had occasion to review certain backup mathematics in connection with his work in the past, and regard him as a first-class mind. I understand he is high-Kirlian; perhaps that accounts for his abilities."

"Were that the case, I would be a genius-entity," Herald said. "Alas, I am not. Would Hweeh be likely to be shocked by mere reference to the single term @Space Amoeba@?"

"Ah, you render it in Weew inflection! I am not conversant with that term, but I hardly think so. The only thing that could shock a research astronomer would be a concept of such surprise and magnitude as to represent a Galactic threat. But I hardly think such a thing is likely to occur in that specialty."

Galactic threat... "But if such a threat should exist, why would he not simply advise his Segment government, or the Galactic Council?"

Swees paused, his wheel spinning reflectively. "I really do not know. I conjecture that the threat might be so immediate or pervasive as to be incapable of resolution. That, at least, is what would send
me
into shock. But surely he could have discovered no threat that has not existed for many centuries. No, I rather think that some personal factor is in operation. If he had monetary or romantic problems—"

"Then why should his Segment hasten to mend him, even undertaking the expense of mattermission?"

Swees reflected again. "An intriguing riddle that offers no immediate answer. Perhaps, then, there
is
a threat, and only his insight can clarify its nature. Is this Space Amoeba by chance a living entity? Perhaps a viral mutation—"

"I doubt it," Herald said. "It is a diffuse particle-and-gas formation in deep space beyond Furnace, photographed decades ago. He was studying it when he went into shock, and its mere mention returns him to that state."

"Then I think it would be wise to ascertain whatever he knows, rapidly," Swees said. "Perhaps it is a false alarm, but an astronomer of his repute certainly should know his concepts! I cannot imagine what threat he sees, but I am not versed in his specialty. Perhaps this is just as well, for if I understood the exact concept I also might go into shock. Shall I call you if I have further insight?"

"Please do," Herald said. "I appreciate your discussion. I shall be here for a local month."

"It has been a pleasure." Swees faded out.

Herald turned to Whirl and Psyche. "You have necessarily witnessed my treatment of another client. I request that you not discuss this matter with others. I must allow Hweeh to rest now, but there will be another session."

"It is fascinating!" Psyche said. "Both the mystery and your mode of treatment. You do not merely lay on hands, you study your case like any doctor. You are such a competent, entity. I hardly feel worthy of your attention."

"There may be a parallel between the two cases," the Sador remarked.

"Oh, do you think the Weew is possessed too?" Psyche asked brightly. "Should he be burned at the stake?"

"Your irony is painful to me, Lady, as you intend," Whirl said gravely. "Nevertheless, I reply: Possession might most readily account for his condition."

"He is not possessed," Herald said. "He has suffered conceptual shock, and I am now satisfied that his case warrants my attention. The two cases
are
parallel, in the mystery surrounding them and in the belief by others that a serious threat exists whose focus is in these entities."

"I wrong you, Earl," Psyche said contritely. "I apologize and beg forgiveness. There is a parallel."

"Forgiven, gracious Lady," Whirl said. "We are in an unkind situation."

Perceiving that apology by the Lady, Herald felt a brief tingle of emotion. He tried to analyze it, but it faded. The subject of possible execution had treated the Enemy Witness with momentary courtesy; it was a nicety of manner, of no other significance. "Shall we return to the Duke?" he inquired.

 

* * *

 

In the evening Herald was shown to Psyche's suite, along with Whirl.

"I have taken the liberty of installing an extra bed, and of curtaining off my daughter's bed," the Duke said grimly. "The Witness, who is nonhuman, may station himself by the door, in this way being assured that no one enters or departs alone, without himself causing impropriety. He may observe my daughter as he wishes, to verify that no 'Possession' occurs. Are these arrangements satisfactory?"

"Quite," Whirl said.

"You may take turns using the sanitary facilities," the Duke continued. "They have been modified to accommodate the Sador as well as the Solarian form. The servants will appear promptly on, and only on, signal."

"I have no complaint," Herald said.

Kade marched out, his suppressed ire manifest in his gait.

"I'm glad you're here," Psyche confided. "It gets so lonely. At least Mother used to talk to me—when she was my mother."

Herald found the press-line on his tunic and tore it open. Psyche made a little shriek and averted her gaze. "Oh, I forget about the clothing convention among Solarians," Herald said. "Apology. Most Cluster sapients, including my own species, do not employ decorative habiliment."

"Solarians do change apparel for sleep," Whirl explained. "But they normally do this in privacy. The sanitary chamber may be used."

"Thank you," Herald said. "I regret my ignorance of night custom. Normally I do not remain so long in a single host, and I neglected to survey the host-mind for such details. May I use the chamber now?"

"Please do," Psyche said, concealing herself behind her curtain, though she remained fully clothed.

Herald was determined to handle the matter on his own this time, instead of drawing on the resources of his host. He had to rehearse all his prior experience in humanoid functions to figure out how to avail himself of the sanitary facilities, but in due course he succeeded, and he emerged clean, in pajamas and with new confidence. Hereafter he would be more competent.

Psyche then went demurely into the chamber, and Herald paused to question the Sador. "Most species improve with exertion. Is this true of Solarians?"

"It is true," the Witness said. "When human creatures make ready for combat, they perform exercises, and soon their muscle tone improves and they become able to achieve greater feats."

"What feats are most useful to them?"

"The ability to run, to move rapidly by foot, seems to be chief among these. Also to carry heavy burdens, and to be able to strike hard and accurately with the hands, or with weapons controlled by the hands."

"So if I should run around this room and carry heavy objects, my physical condition will improve," Herald said.

"That is my understanding."

"Thank you, Witness." Herald picked up a solid chair and lumbered in a circle around the room. Very soon the weight of the chair seemed to become greater, and his feet were coming down hard on the floor. He was puffing air in and out of his lungs with uncomfortable force, a side effect he had not anticipated. But he kept on going.

"What are you trying to do?" his host demanded in his brain, alarmed.

/I am improving this body,/ Herald replied. /If I am to remain in it for ten days, I want it fit./

"Brother!" the host exclaimed. "A fitness freak!"

/You have objection?/

"No, actually I don't. I always figured I should exercise more. But it's uncomfortable, and if it's okay with you, I'll just bug out for the duration."

Meaning: The host would disassociate his consciousness from the activities of the body, not returning unless specifically called. That way he would experience none of the sensations Herald brought about. That was a good idea. /Very well, host. Bug out. Sweet dreams./ And a presence faded. There really wasn't anywhere the host-mind could go except to sleep, but the effect was similar to departure.

Now Herald was staggering, as the muscles refused to respond fully. This was not the fault of the absent host-mind, but a simple function of fatigue. His arms were sending messages of discomfort bordering on pain to his human brain. He was in danger of lurching into a wall, and his breath was rasping through his mouth noisily. He wished he could bug out too. But he had suspected that exercise would not be easy.

Psyche emerged from the sanitary chamber, fresh and clean and sweet-smelling in her slender nightie. It resembled her tunic but was more sheer, making her look thinner somehow, though actually she possessed those feminine attributes that made her, as her father put it, nubile. Her human mouth opened in alarm, and her small mammalian bosom heaved. "Herald! What's the matter?"

Herald, rounding a turn, tried to respond. But he lost his balance and crashed into the wall, dropping the chair. Psyche rushed to help him. "Oh, you're hurt!" she cried.

But her strength was insufficient to support him. Herald slid to the floor, still panting too vigorously to speak intelligibly, and she was carried down with him. She tried to extricate her arm, but succeeded mainly in tearing open his pajama shirt. She leaned over him, her nightie twisted about, falling open at the top. "Where do you hurt? What can I do?" she cried with touching concern.

The bedroom door crashed open. The Duke of Kade stood there, sword drawn. Suddenly Herald knew he was in trouble.

"And I thought it was an enemy raid," Kade said with infinite disgust. "Stand, miscreant, that I may run you through."

But the Sador interposed himself between them, one side wheel spinning so rapidly it started to whine. He was less than half the height of the man, but that wheel faced the Duke, and it looked dangerous. "Hold, Kade, lest you violate the covenant without cause!"

The Duke paused, but his sword did not lower. "Earl, I have not before seen you as a creature of treachery."

"Then heed the truth," Whirl said. "Herald was exercising his host-body, and fell. The Lady sought to lift him, and could not. Both are innocent of malice or connivance."

"This is beyond belief," Kade said savagely. "Must I add your body to that of the molester?"

The molester! Herald saw that the Duke was serious, having jumped to a conclusion, and would not be swayed by reason. What could he say, before getting stabbed by that ill-justified sword? Was this the horror Smallbore had foreseen?

"Father!" Psyche screamed, finally extricating herself. "If the Witness spoke not the truth, he had but to stand aside in silence and let you break the covenant. Then would I be burned, and you with no recourse."

Kade's eyes swiveled to her. "
You
, my child—you vouch for the word of the Witness?"

"It needs no vouching," she said, drawing herself up into a pitiful yet somehow effective formality, facing her father. "Yet I do vouch. I would not have the honor of three honorable creatures sullied on my account. No one molested me, no one wronged you, no treachery occurred. The Witness has borne good witness."

Still Kade stood in silence, the point of his sword covering Herald with dismaying accuracy.

"Does the lord who would not believe evil of his wife, now refuse to believe good of his daughter?" Whirl demanded.

The Duke's muscles convulsed. His sword shook as sudden black rage transformed his features. In that instant he was a complete animal, body tensed for savage action, teeth bared.

Then the Sador's meaning penetrated: not an insult, but a plea for sanity. Herald knew then that whatever had caused the dissolution of the once-great Sphere of Sador, it had not been lack of courage or wit. Whirl had struck with words, far more accurately and effectively than would have been possible with any physical weapon.

Abruptly Kade sheathed his deadly sword. "My daughter I must believe. I apologize to you, Witness, and to you, Healer."

"Accepted," the Earl of Dollar said immediately, and his fighting wheel was stilled.

"Accepted!" Herald gasped.

Now the Duke focused on Herald. "If exercise you must, I shall instruct you in the techniques in the morning."

"Thank you," Herald said, hauling himself to his feet. But the Duke was already departing. He never lingered long for recriminations or explanations.

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