01. When the Changewinds Blow (31 page)

Charley was delighted to find that there was an equivalent of jeans here, but, of course, it was men only. It was asking too much even for the seamstresses to come up with custom jeans, but she found some boys' pairs that she was able to have shaped and modified. Those, some tops made out of the same sort of clingy material they'd used for Sam only in brighter colors, and a couple of body suits of the same material for her and she felt she was ready for the trip, too. Nothing she made for herself left much to the imagination of an onlooker, though.

Boday went with her custom leather outfits and long capes. With those on her long, lanky, six-foot-two-inch frame and in the high-topped leather boots with the thick high heels she looked, well, imposing. Charley learned not to be too flip around her, though. When she remarked that all Boday needed was a leather whip, Boday produced one.

The busy whirl of getting ready to go helped Sam somewhat, but not completely. She was still depressed, particularly about herself, and she had such ambivalent feelings around Charley she felt pulled this way and that. On the one hand, she needed Charley badly to see her through all this. Her old friend's take-charge attitude and confident, sympathetic ways were essential. But Charley had changed. She was no longer the schoolgirl chum; she was suddenly wise, mature, very adult, very strong. Sam still felt very much a kid. Charley was beautiful and sexy without even having to work at it much. Sam felt ugly, clumsy, and she had to work at it constantly just to keep doing things. The fact that her looks and weight were not the result of any magic spells or evil potions but were largely self-inflicted didn't help matters a bit.

To top it all off, Charley was a whole lot smarter than she was. It hadn't been obvious when they were just pals together, but Sam had been working at high capacity and Charley had her brains in coast. Now she had learned a language, pretty much on her own, that even Zenchur had said you almost had to be born with to speak. That might have been true to speak it, but Charley rarely needed help in translations to understand what was being said now. The plain fact was she was
smart,
and no magic spell made her that way. Back in junior high, when Sam was trying to get into a special course she really wanted, one of the guidance counselors had looked at her record with her mom there and all and said, "I'm afraid that course load just might be too much for her. I know she reads all right and her grades are good, but she's at her maximum capacity now and it wouldn't be good to frustrate her when she's doing so well. Her IQ is a hundred and she's doing exceptional for all that where she is. Don't be upset-it's average, just not exceptional." And she'd looked it up and discovered that "average" was a hundred to a hundred and ten, so she was just
barely
average. And she'd just sorta quit after that, because what was the use of knocking yourself out when you were damned stupid? And what the hell did straight
Bs
mean if it was in a class of stupid kids?

She didn't
feel
stupid, but maybe stupid people didn't feel stupid. So what was the use of trying? Mom was a lawyer and Dad was a contractor, but maybe she just didn't get the brain part. Charley had seemed a kindred spirit at a time when her folks had split and she'd moved. Hell, they'd liked the same things and really hit it off. But now she realized she never really knew Charley. Maybe Charley hadn't really known Charley, but she sure as hell wasn't "barely average."

She loved and needed Charley, but it was impossible not to hate somebody like that, too.

And she'd been afraid
Charley
would hate
her!

At first, Sam was pretty self-conscious when going out. She wondered what the warehouse people would think when they saw a girl instead of the guy but nobody seemed to bat an eyelash. Sex changes weren't exactly the rule in Tubikosa, but these guys had been around the place so long they just weren't surprised by anything that came out of Boday's place.

On the street, even dressed in the conventional, "respectable" ways, she felt everybody would be staring at her, that they'd be thinking "Look at the tub of lard," but the fact was nobody gave her much notice and people she had to deal with treated her as a normal person. After a while the worries simply faded. It was true that no guys were whistling her way or putting the make on her but they never had before, either. Her self-consciousness vanished quickly and she felt much better. In fact, with that out of the way, it was a relief. No more play-acting; just be what you were and the hell with it. Somehow, some of the tension she'd lived under since running away to the mall seemed to vanish with that acceptance.

Arranging for transport was done through halls of the Royal Guilds, no matter what your class or status. Instead of trying to hire a navigator for a special trip, though, they looked over the list of trips to see who was going where. Even though Sari couldn't read the lists, she knew each squiggle beside a number squiggle was a trip and there were
hundreds.
Boday
could
read them but they didn't help much. Nobody was going all the way through to Masalur and most of the destinations meant little. Boday was a native of lubikosa; her odd accent was mostly put on while she studied at the university and just stuck, and that trip had been her only one outside her homeland. Maps appeared useless on Akahlar; they had to see a Guild dispatcher.

It was decided that they wouldn't ask for a direct trip to Masalur; the odds were if Boolean were really dangerous to this enemy, whoever and whatever it was, they'd be specially interested in
anybody
out of the ordinary who booked to there. It made more sense to book to Covanti, the halfway point more or less, and then take stock from there. The university was out of the question; they were now reasonably flush but not that flush, and they had wasted too much time. The demon was uncharacteristically neutral on that, but Sam wanted this
over
with and the distance was still huge.

Although class and social rules meant nothing to navigators, who'd seen and done it all and disdained most local customs, Sam found it fascinating that even the dispatcher basically addressed
her
as the leader or spokeswoman. Perhaps it was because she was wearing one of those stock sack dresses and a scarf and had on no makeup or jewelry and thus she had to be the leader because she was "normal." If only they knew!

"I can't get you to Covanti directly for another six weeks," the dispatcher told her. "Tubikosa only does some seasonal business with them, and a minor flurry of changewinds have made the direct route too risky anyway." He showed them a map that showed the hemisphere with Tubikosa in the middle, but showed only the hubs in detail. The rest were blank, the hubs looking like the center of flowers surrounded by petals.

"Now, then," he went on, "the only reasonable route is southwest to Mashtopol, even though it's a little out of your way, then northwest to Quodac, then up to Covanti. I can get you to Quodac with no troubles, and I'm sure you can get something from the Guildhall there to get up to Covanti. That by-passes the unstable regions. You say it's three women traveling in a group?"

Sam nodded. "Just the three of us. But I don't like it. We're adding a lot of distance and extra expense that way."

"Well, I can get you a break on the Tubikosa to Quodac leg since it's related to poor conditions, but your supply budget and time will be greater. If you wanted to change navigators at Mashtopol and were willing to have as much as a week's layover there, we have something going tomorrow. If you want it through to Quodac it'll be leaving sixteen days from today. Your share of the navigator's fees plus the Pilot's charges would be-thirty-five hundred sarkis for all three, plus supplies. That's to Quodac. You are advised that this paticular route may be hazardous."

Buddy, you don't know what hazardous is,
Sam thought sourly. "How long is it to Quodac?" she asked. "As opposed to direct to Covanti?"

"It varies," the dispatcher told her honestly, "but the average straight through, before the troubles, was fifty days direct, give or take a few and depending on local conditions. Now it's about sixty. Quodac should be about the same-closer to fifty than sixty, I'd say. Another thirty or so to Covanti depending on how long you would have to wait in Quodac for a trip. It's not great, but it
is
a safer route these days anyway. You get stuck in a sudden change wind and you wouldn't ever be able to come back to a hub."

It was a good enough argument. "All right, then. The one sixteen days from now is best, I guess. How do we work it?" "You fill this out. If you cannot read I'll fill it out for you and take your mark. Then you pay me fifteen hundred cash now, with the balance due to the navigator directly when you start your trip. I'll give you a list of basic supplies you'll need to buy and your routing when you pay me."

She nodded. "This woman will pay you and fill out the form," she said, nodding to Boday, who took the paper and an inkwell-style pen and started in on it. Another of Sam's discoveries made her feel less inadequate about this. The damned writing language was so complicated that very few people could read any old book, including Boday. You learned what you needed for your profession and for functional literacy. That was Charley's discovery as well. The practical vocabulary of most people in day to day life was at best a few thousand words; the rest were used only for more specialized things. There were lots of people who never could manage much reading even in Akhbreed society, and deliberately so. Outside of royalty, the better you read and the more you could read the higher you could rise. That meant that even the lowest might rise close to the top if they were smart enough. That was one reason women, even low in status, ran a lot of the stores.

Boday read the form to them. "Names, ages, sex-Boday always wants to write 'yes' in there-spouse, clan, and occupation. Nosy, aren't they? Well-Boday is easy enough. She is thirty-one, female, artist-alchemist, she has renounced her clan before they could renounce her-
peasants!-
and what is your real name, my love?"

"Samantha Rose Buell, but do we hav'ta put that? It's kind'a a giveaway of me bein' from someplace not usual."

Boday thought a moment. "Then why not Susama? An odd name but not a bad one. Boday has met someone of that name before and it will let you keep using 'Sam.' We will make you of the clan Pua'hoca. It's a big sector clan, so big the name is used if one does not wish to give a real one."

"Like Smith or Brown back home," Sam understood, nodding. "I once knew a guy really named John Smith and nobody ever believed it." Good. That gave her some legitimacy-if she could remember the damned name.

Charley looked over their shoulders. "Uh-I can't read this stuff, but the mark under 'spouse' is different for the two of you. What did you put?"

"Why, darling, Boday puts Susama as her spouse and Boday as Susama's. Her legal name would then be Boday Susama, and Sam would be Susama Boday."

"Hmmm . . . Won't that cause some problems or raise some eyebrows?"

"Not at all. Is the law of Akhbreed. If you cohabit in all ways with one partner only for a year and a day you are legally married under the law. In fact, we should register it."

Sam didn't like that. "What are you trying to pull now, Boday?"

"Boday is serious. You are a woman. Your age is eighteen. You do not wear the white nor live with family and you are listed as apprentice to Boday but you have no husband and there is no records on you except cohabiting with Boday. Marriage to a citizen is the only way to get travel documents unless you are
sent
someplace by authority as Boday was sent to university. You are obviously no courtesan. It is the easiest way out without getting into a lot of very fictional stories that might betray you."

"Yeah, but-in this straight a society, what will they say if you registered two women?"

"The law was designed for foreigners, but with an address in the District it will not be disallowed. And once we are on the trail it will not be questioned. Things are different out there. Trust me, darling! This happens more than they want to admit, particularly with men."

Sam looked at Charley, who shrugged. "I don't know. I keep feeling she's pulling something again, but she's also right. If they allow it, then you're suddenly a somebody instead of a nobody and that'll keep things even less suspicious."

This time Sam decided to take no chances. She turned away from the busy hall and pressed the jewel against her. "Demon, is what she says correct?"

She cannot lie to you. Yes. It is legal and the easiest way to get total legitimacy as if you were a native. It completes the disguise.

"I'm not gonna be stuck limited to just her by this, am I?"

Question interpreted and understood. If married people could not and did not cheat here there would be no District and no business for those like Charley.

It was a good enough point that she decided to do it. The hell with it. After the last year it was nothing more than the truth, and, considering her looks, it was Boday or nothing anyway.

For Charley they put down "Shari, 18, female, no clan, Beauteous Property under contract to Susama and Boday." There wasn't, after all, much way to hide what she was.

They paid the money and got the supply list. Boday read it over as they walked from the Guildhall to the Royal Ministry of Records. They got a lot of stares from the city crowd, with Charley getting the most from both sexes, but aside from treating them like they had leprosy the others gave them no problems. Sam was glad they were blowing this kind of place.

"Boday thinks we should get a wagon rather than horses and pack animals," the artist said. "You are not much good riding horses, you say, and this will be just as good. Besides, a decent one will provide some cover in bad weather. No sleeping out under the stars, either. The basic foods list is manageable and we can take more than that if we pay a bit for preservative spells. It is worth it-you never know what you might have to eat out there. Clothing-jackets. We will have to pick up some, jackets. And perhaps hats and gloves. Tubikosa is always very warm but there are cold places out there. And Boday will take an alchemical kit. Not bad. Ah-here we are. Here we will register and then use the certificate to get the documents. 'Shari' is already registered, of course."