Unicorn Point (51 page)

Tania smiled at him, and he smiled back. Evidently she had after all invoked more than just the memory of Phaze in his mind. ‘Corn observed them covertly, hoping to learn something that might be useful in his relationship with Nepe.
 
He knew that Tania wasn’t really interested in Clef; she just wanted to be sure he helped rescue Citizen Blue. And, in the process, the one she did love: Mach. Thus she was an excellent reference for the application of sex appeal without emo tion.

“In any event,” Agape said, “that lethargy box surely has settings for Tania and me and perhaps ‘Corn too. We are wearing nullifiers, but our first priority will be to destroy that box.”

“I’ll do it!” ‘Corn cried. “I’ll throw it against the wall!”

“Too bad we couldn’t get a box tuned to Purple and Tan,” Tania said.

They proceeded to Blue’s suite. Other serfs were hurrying to and fro; to them the strife between Citizens was either unimportant or unknown. They merely followed orders, who ever was in power. No one paid attention to the little party.
 
At the panel. Agape didn’t hesitate. She put her hand against it, and it slid open, recognizing her. She remained at the panel while the other three quickly and quietly stepped in; then she stepped through and let it close behind.
 
Th’ey filed silently along the short hallway leading to the main room. Tania took the lead, alert for her brother. Clef was next, holding his flute; none of them knew exactly how this instrument could help, but all believed that it related in some significant way.

‘Corn saw Citizen Blue, seated on a chair. He was con scious; his eyes moved. But he was unable to move rapidly.

 
“So the wanderers return!”

That was Citizen Tan’s voice! He was awake—and it was indeed a trap!

Then, before ‘Corn could react, the heavy hand of lethargy fell on him. He saw Agape and Clef sag; they felt it too. Tan had the box—and it was overriding their nullifiers! Their arrival had not only been anticipated, it had been prepared for.
 
What fools they had been to think it would be otherwise; no wonder their arrival had been without event! Tan had wanted them to come here, where they could be captured without commotion.

But Tania was not affected. She whirled and threw herself on the Citizen, grabbing for the box. The rest of them, unable to take similar action, stood in place.
 
‘Corn was facing forward, and could not turn his head fast enough to view the action. Why wasn’t there a setting for Tania? Then he understood: she was Tan’s twin sister. Her setting would be almost identical to his. If he tried to use the box on her, he would suffer its effects himself. Perhaps he had thought she would not dare return, so hadn’t worried about it. Or he had thought she wouldn’t dare directly oppose him.

He had been mistaken. ‘Corn heard the sounds of their nearby struggle. Tania was female, and smaller than her brother, but she was healthy while he had evidently grown soft in Citizenship. It seemed like an eternity, but was only a few seconds; then the box dropped to the floor. She had beaten him!

No, she had only jarred the box from his grasp. It had not broken; the lethargy remained on them. Tan shoved her away as ‘Corn’s head slowly turned so that he could see them. She stumbled into Clef.

Tan lunged at her. Tania dodged around Clef. Then, on inspiration, she took the flute from his flaccid hand and held it like a weapon. When Tan reached for her again, she brought it down on his head.

The flute was made of platinum: a beautiful and extremely valuable instrument. Platinum was one of the heaviest of metals. The flute made a most effective club. Tan dropped to the floor, for the moment unable to continue the fight.
 
Tania stepped toward the lethargy box, ready to smash it similarly, so as to free them all.

Clef managed a protest. “Not with the flute!” The pain in his voice would have been funny if the situation had not been so serious.

Tania nodded. Her hair was wild and she was bruised and shaking, but she had not lost her wits. She tucked the flute under her arm and picked up the box. She found its master switch and turned it off.

Suddenly all of them were free—Blue and Sheen and Mach included.

But before they could do more than look at each other, there was a new voice. “Attempt nothing foolish,” Purple said. “I have another box—and more persuasive instruments.”

It was of course no bluff. Citizen Tan might have misjudged his sister, but Citizen Purple was more cunning and ruthless.
 
Tania straightened slowly, and the others did not move.
 
Except for ‘Corn. He was at the rear of their column, closest to Purple. He whirled and leaped—

And was felled by a spot lethargy jolt. He collapsed at Purple’s feet. Indeed, the man had not been bluffing!
 
Purple brushed by him, orienting on Tania. “Give me that flute,” he said gruffly, “and I may make you my mistress instead of having you executed.” He held out his hand.
 
‘Corn, on the floor, was able to move his head just enough to see the tableau. Tania was slowly lifting the flute. Clef was just behind her, chagrined.

Why did Purple want the flute? He had to know it wasn’t the magic one! It was valuable, but Purple hardly needed more wealth. The instrument was irrelevant to Purple’s interests.

But Purple was no fool. If he wanted the flute, there had to be reason. But what could the flute do, that Purple might fear?

Suddenly ‘Corn got a notion. “Play it!” he gasped.
 
Tania, surprised, looked at the flute she held. She was no musician. There was no way she could do more than tootle on it. But she seemed to understand what ‘Corn had realized.
 
She lifted the flute to her mouth and blew.
 
There was nothing except a rush of air. She wasn’t address ing the mouthpiece correctly. Purple laughed.
 
Then Clef reached around her and adjusted the flute. He set his hands over hers, each finger guiding one of hers.
 
“Across, not into,” he murmured.

“Enough of this foolishness,” Purple said, reaching again.
 
Tania blew again. This time, with Clefs close guidance, she blew a note. Her fingers under Clefs depressed the keys, and the note changed.

The first note was imperfect, yet had a strange quality. The second was better, and stranger. She was catching on, following Clefs cues, making eerie music.

“No!” Purple cried. But she continued to play, with in creasing facility, and he did not advance on her.
 
There seemed to be a light developing around the flute—not a glow, but an ambience. Its color heightened, enhancing its outline. Tania’s face seemed to have a double outline, as if she were a holo picture a trifle out of focus. In fact there seemed to be two Tanias, playing two flutes, overlapping.
 
Then the split images merged. Abruptly the music became intimately compelling. The radiance spread outward, seem ing to ripple through the air and the people—and where it passed, they changed, becoming double and then single, then double again, as if swinging in and out of themselves. The air seemed to sparkle and become fresh with the fragrance of a healthy outdoors. Yet the walls of the suite also seemed to be dissolving, and a verdant outdoor landscape was show ing through them.

“Now,” Clef said. He moved his hands, taking hold of the flute directly. Tania let go, giving it to him. She seemed stunned by what had happened.

The ripple of light jumped inward, as if a bubble were collapsing. The superimposed images faded. But then Clef began to play.

He was a master. All doubt about this was abolished by his first note. His fingers on the flute seemed to glow with sheer competence. Tania stared at him as if mesmerized.
 
The radiance strengthened, as if a spotlight had focused on the flute. It spread again, slowly; but this time its effects were intensified. It lighted Clefs hands, and they became cleaner, stronger, the fingers more nimble; the discolorations of age faded, leaving the firm flesh of youth. It traveled across his arms, and they filled out, becoming muscular. It touched his neck, which smoothed out, both tendons and wrinkles dis appearing. It expanded across his face, shaping it, heightening its animation, strengthening its character. His sparse hair darkened and advanced, thickening. His spectacles now seemed incongruous on so handsome a face.
 
Tania watched him, rapt. The man was being transformed!
 
His whole body was turning youthful and dynamic as the light bathed it. Agape was staring too, and ‘Corn, from the floor; he knew the same thought was in all their minds. How could such a thing be happening, without magic? Yet how could magic be operating, here in Proton?

The globe of light seemed to split. A small intense part of it clothed Clef, while a larger but fainter secondary part of it expanded to enclose them all in its ambience. ‘Corn felt it infusing him, changing both his body and his mind in ex traordinary manner, both uplifting and alarming him. He saw the others—and each was double, twin images overlapping, but not perfectly. Each was split, yet not harmed, and each looked as confused as he felt. When Tania had played, the outlines of each person had seemed blurred. Now they were distinct, yet dual.

The walls of the suite dissolved again. This time the out door landscape assumed full force.

Then they were moving—or the landscape was. As a group they passed through the wall of the suite, and through the walls of the neighboring chambers. There were people in those other chambers, looking started, but the group swept through them and past them without impediment. ‘Corn found himself moving toward a walking serf; then he went through the middle of the man and on, feeling only a momentary drag, as if the air had thickened. What was happening?
 
The pace accelerated, as the music continued. They burst out of Hardom and moved north, like nine figures locked in an invisible ship. Fields and trees passed at a blurring rate, and even hills. They were going somewhere at the speed of a spaceship, without the ship.

- A castle loomed on the horizon, a blue pennant flying from a high turret. They shot in toward it, and through its walls.
 
Abruptly the motion stopped. They were in the castle, and ‘Corn’s face was near a tuft of grass sprouting from the crev ice between two paving stones. But he could not be concerned about that; the travel had stopped, but not the music.

Clef was still playing, his whole body concentrating on the effort, as if what had occurred so far were only the preliminary to something greater.

The globe of light touched Tania. The two images of her slid together. Her dishevelment and her bruises were wiped away, enhancing her posture. Her eyes seemed larger, and literally glowing. She had always been a striking woman; now she seemed charismatic. The music was lifting her, making her sway; she was not merely listening, she was of it.
 
Citizen Purple made a noise. His doubled images were also merging. Tania’s face turned, her mouth forming a frown.
 
Her eyes seemed to strike out at him—and Purple fell back, reeling as if struck.

That was the Evil Eye! ‘Corn had learned of it through Nepe. The Tania of Phaze had it, the ability to hypnotize or hurt people merely by looking at them. But this was Proton!
 
The light was coming here, bathing him, and bringing with it its strange effects. ‘Corn had been amazed by the ghostly traveling; now he experienced a ghostly unity. The thought that had prompted him to urge Tania to play the flute re turned, assuming new clarity. This was—

“Aye,” he murmured, sitting up.

Aye? That was Phaze talk!

“Aye,” his mouth said again. “The flute be doing it.”

“What’s happening?” ‘Corn cried, even as he realized the explanation. He was merging with his other self.
 

“Aye,” his mouth said a third time. “I be Alien. Thou hast come here to Phaze.”

“But this is Proton!” ‘Corn protested.

“Nay, methinks it be both. See, the frames be merging, and the folk o’ the frames.”

‘Corn saw it was so. The Proton folks who had occupied the suite of Citizen Blue were superimposed on what must be the Blue Demesnes of Phaze. Somehow the music of the flute had carried them here, where they were joining with their parallel selves.

Yes, as he thought it through, he found confirmation from his other self. Alien—Al—had witnessed the treachery of Tan and Purple, and had gone to find Fleta and Tania, and the three of them had fetched the magic Platinum Flute and come here—and now with Clef playing that Flute, the frames were being brought together. It was overwhelming, yet also sensible.

He looked around him, discovering that the lethargy was gone from his body. Clef was still playing, Tania was still gazing raptly on him, and the others were reacting much as ‘Corn himself was. Agape’s features were changing, coming to resemble those of Fleta, Al’s thought continued. Her human form was petite and pretty. While, in contrast, the Purple Adept was a mottled and ugly hulk. The man’s fat face was twisted in a distorted snarl as he waged some internal war with Citizen Purple, ‘Corn continued. Evidently the two did not like each other much more than they liked anyone else. Probably they were engaged in a no-quarter-given struggle to determine which of them was to control their single body.
 
Meanwhile, Citizen Blue was coming to life. It seemed that the Adept Stile had been under a spell that the music was abating. But Stile and Blue were not united, and neither were Mach and Bane. What was wrong?