02. Empires of Flux and Anchor (27 page)

She told them her story, sparing nothing. "I don't know what it was," she concluded, "but, damn it, Cass, it
lives
in here. I think it always has. It lives down deep, under the temple. Hmmm . . . Do you think I just had a religious experience?"

"Not you," Kasdi assured her. "We've already sent for Mervyn and some of the other experts. Let's try and sort it out."

The old wizard was totally fascinated by the account. "The best I can guess, and it's only a guess, is that you are the first person to meet the Guardian face to face, as it were, and survive."

"I almost didn't. That was a
hell
of a shock," Suzl grumped.

Using a lot of witnesses, they put the message back together and were reasonably satisfied that they had it right. Fortunately, the military mind being what it was, quite a number of people had checked the exact time on their chronometers at the "mark" statement. All but three of them said 2209. That was sufficient to order those three to check their chronographs.

"This fits with what I saw in the tunnel," Suzl told them. "This and the other three Anchors are nothing more than Fluxlands stabilized by that gadget down there instead of by a wizard's mind. You figure this Guardian is the mind behind it?"

Mervyn shook his head negatively. "I seriously doubt if a being like you describe would build a machine.
Use
one, perhaps, but not build one. You know, this brings back memories of Kasdi years ago. She was turned into a bird and imprisoned in this very temple, and she somehow got out and was transformed into a Flux creature with Flux powers. Remember?"

Kasdi nodded. "I remember nothing from being turned into that bird until I emerged as that flyer."

"I suspect our Guardian was responsible there as well. It fits. We will have a lot of work ahead to consider all the implications of this."

"But now is not the time for that," Matson put in. "At 2209 tomorrow, this thing claims it'll sort of turn off the whole square and all that firepower. Four of us will have exactly one minute to dash across to the other side and then be on our own. If we can believe it, the forces out there won't know anything happened. Do you think we can trust that?"

Mervyn nodded. "We have no reason not to. And, of course, if it doesn't happen, nobody has to make the dash. The real problem is who must make it. The Soul Rider would be necessary to neutralize Coydt's machines, the thing said. Suzl, you know what that means."

"Hey! Spirit would be screwed in this kind of set-up! And we got a month-old baby!"

"Nevertheless, she must come. And so must you. You are obviously the translator it spoke about. Can you still remember the language Spirit and the Soul Rider use?"

She thought a moment, then mentally shifted gears, using the linking spell as a guide—and found she couldn't speak or understand the rest of them again. She thought consciously and hard and willed herself "back"—and suddenly she could understand the comments once again. "Yeah. But it's total. One or the other, not both at once."

"It is sufficient. The Soul Rider knows the complex spells needed to punch the hole, but obviously must first see what it's up against to devise them. It will then feed them to you and any other wizards along, and you will use them."

She shrugged. "I'm game, but, damn it, Spirit will never go for it. And what's gonna happen the first time she stands up in plain view to follow a butterfly, even if she did?"

"You must convince her—and keep her under control. Otherwise, we must give this place, and eventually this world, over to Coydt and the others."

"She-it,"
Suzl grumbled.

*    *    *

Suzl had no choice in convincing Spirit but to trust to the Soul Rider. She took Spirit off where they could be alone, leaving little Jeffron with a nurse, and after the predictable failure to really explain the situation to her, she sat back and decided that what worked accidentally for the Guardian might work for the Soul Rider as well. Both were certainly kin, and both were apparently living, thinking creatures of pure energy, as hard as that was to grasp. They were not the same, certainly, but both could communicate with humans and understand them far better than humans could communicate with them.

She tried sending the story, the impressions, of her experience using what she called "Spirit language" to the Soul Rider through the linking spell, but didn't seem to get anywhere. Finally she decided on a last measure, and together they walked into the Hellgate, which Suzl had requested be cleared temporarily of any traffic.

Bathed in the flow of massive energy emerging from the vortex, Suzl took hold of Spirit and fed that energy into the both of them. No one else could do this, she'd found, but the Spirit language was the key to it all. Suzl executed the spell that the Soul Rider had sent her that first day, the one she knew would have the desired result. She metamorphosized, changed back into what she had been, a creature of gross deformity, but a creature with what was necessary.

Emotion was the key, and intense emotion was the medium. Strong, overriding emotions blocked rational thought, concentrated all on one specific to the exclusion of all others, and, if strong enough, they blocked thought altogether while maintaining a direction—like love, or passion, or whatever focused the participants excusively on each other. Hate was also an equally strong focus, as were the other emotions taken to extreme. This, however, was the easiest and the most pleasurable route.

They joined physically, but also, thanks to the language, amplified by the proximity to the direct full flow of the gate vortex, they joined mentally as well on all the levels it was possible to join. The Soul Rider understood, and used that, as Suzl had hoped it would.

And then another joined them there in the Hellgate itself, a creature that looked as if it were an unbearable ball of light out of which fiery tentacles of pure, crackling energy whirled. The two humans did not see, nor were they now permitted to.

For all its history, which was the history of World, the Soul Rider had seen a Guardian only once before, when, riding the body of Cass, it had been plucked from imprisonment in Anchor by the creature. At the time it had acted but had not communicated. Now it reached out again, hoping against hope not only for communication but also to discover if this creature were the unknown source of its directives and commands.

"You have failed, remote,"
the Guardian sent.
"The fall of Anchor is the worst of all sins."

The Soul Rider felt elation at the communication, coupled with disappointment that the creature was certainly not its unseen master, unless in total disguise.

"My mission is to seek out those who would open the Gates and destroy them,"
the Rider responded.
"I
would assume the safety of Anchor was your responsibility."

"No, only its stability, a condition I am now commanded to jeopardize."

"You allowed one of the Seven to pass into Anchor. Had you not, this might not be necessary,"
the Rider pointed out.

"The one you mention knows the pass codes as you do. I was without power to stop him. Where and from whom he learned this I do not know, but he is one of great power."

"He is in the employ of Hell. I am charged to stop him."

"Then you must allow the host to pass to Anchor."

"Her mind is not like other human minds,"
the Rider pointed out.
"The same one I now seek has put her somewhat beyond my reach."

"Then I will render the matrix inoperable. My jurisdiction is entirely within this chamber and Anchor, so it will be inoperable only so long as she is within my sphere of influence. Should she pass out of it, the matrix will be restored as permanently as before."

"That will help, but it will not undo the damage to her mind."

"You have been with her since she was made operational. I am willing to aid you in common goals, remote, but I will not do your job for you, nor can I."

"I will do what I can,"
the Soul Rider promised,
"but you have given me very little time."

"If it is not sufficient, you are defective and should be replaced. There. It is undone. I leave you now to your own task."

'"Wait!" the Soul Rider cried out. "Remain a moment! Tell me what you are, and what I am, and who commands the both of us!"

"We are not supposed to know,"
the Guardian replied, and faded out.

The Soul Rider, feeling the press of time, went to work. It couldn't help but note and appreciate the Guardian's methods. The binding spell was still there, but it was diverted from her by a thin addition that linked it, somehow, to that great machine over to one side. The machine took in the power from the vortex and changed and split it, stabilizing the four Anchors and, in fact, the Hellgate itself. So long as Spirit remained in areas under the control of that machine, the spell would be drawn off, diverted to it and rendered harmless. It was a tenuous thread, however. Once back in Flux, the small link would be broken, and it would take the Guardian again to restore it. Somehow it doubted that the creature who operated the machine would be so inclined.

Because the Soul Rider had lived inside Spirit since birth, it had its own duplicate set of memories and impressions. These could be read back in, but selectively, and subtly altered. It did not wish to withdraw the power from Suzl, as Suzl was clearly better temperamentally suited to it and would continue to have a direct link with the language of the Soul Rider itself. Spirit, then, must remain with Suzl, and Suzl needed to retain her own personal anchor. That meant fabricating a set of false memories and impressions that would take Spirit logically to the emotional, passionate love and commitment to Suzl and away from her heterosexual base. It was rather easy to do to someone you had already made fall in love with the same person anyway and made keep that love when that person had become a grossly distorted creature.

It was also necessary, and only fair, to convey the ground rules as much as possible to both of them. That was far more difficult. It longed for the Guardian's powers of communication, but had to content itself with what it had. The Guardian, after all, had never experienced the joys and pains of living human lives as had the Soul Rider. On balance, it decided that the Guardian was more deprived.

It was done now, as much as it could be done, and the Soul Rider was content. Minor adjustments could be made, but only slightly out of Flux. It would have to do.

It allowed Suzl to awaken first, but time was running on.

13

SHATTERED HOME

Suzl sat in the tunnel and tried to sort it all out. Certainly her scheme had worked, but the information she seemed to have from somewhere was a little unnerving. She could see the tiny diversionary spell trailing off from Spirit to the machine, and that confirmed the truth of what she knew.

When Spirit woke up, she would be free of the spell—so long as she went to Anchor Logh and remained there. Only Suzl would retain the machine language ability; Spirit would be back among the humans once again, and that worried Suzl no end. How would Spirit feel? Towards her and everything else? Quickly Suzl changed back to her human form.

Spirit moaned, rolled over, and opened her eyes. For a moment she seemed unable to focus or even grasp where she was, and she looked puzzled. Then she sat up, looked over at Suzl, and shook her head slowly. "What a strange, strange dream," she rasped, and the shock of hearing her speak, of hearing her voice for the first time, was great, even though Suzl had expected it. "My throat hurts."

"If you feel up to it, we can go into Anchor and get you some water and some clothes," Suzl responded hesitantly.

She shook her head slightly from side to side. "No, darling, just let me sort it all out first."

Suzl felt an electric shock.
Darling!
She reached out for a small spell, got it, and materialized a canteen of water, which she handed to Spirit, who took it and swallowed cautiously.

Slowly, everything came out. Spirit seemed to remember her past pretty well, even after Coydt put the spell on her, but after she saw her family in Anchor Logh that last time, things seemed to get fuzzy and less distinct. She remembered feeling lost, alone, confused—adrift, somehow, until Suzl had gone away with her. Every moment after that seemed to focus on Suzl—and the baby. She had no real sense of time or events beyond her personal, basic experiences, nor did she quite understand why she was back—and how.

Somehow, in her memories of earlier times in Anchor, she seemed to believe that she always found women attractive, but had fought and suppressed the tendency, perhaps overcompensating for fear of what family and friends might think. "I don't care what anybody thinks anymore, though. I love you, and I'd tell all of World."

Together they went back into Anchor, where they caused as much commotion and excitement as Suzl had, perhaps more. The obvious romantic bond between the tall, lovely young woman and the short, chubby Suzl put many people off now that both were "normal," although they hadn't even thought about it in Flux with all the spells. Several things emerged, though, that were certainly different from the Spirit known of old. She deferred almost entirely to Suzl, who was clearly the dominant personality in the relationship, and she seemed rather shy and very passive. She did, however, seem to clearly enjoy being part of human culture once again, to be able to talk and be understood, and, most of all, to understand and use common objects. She seemed deathly afraid that this period of renewed normalcy would abruptly end.

She wanted to see her baby, and they brought the child through to her in the temple. With the child, however, came Sister Kasdi, who wasn't quite sure how to react to all this. On the one hand, she wanted desperately to talk, for the first time in their lives, as mother and daughter. On the other, the relationship between Spirit and Suzl made her feel almost ill. When Spirit and Kasdi finally faced each other, there seemed nothing really to say. Kasdi just stood there for a while, staring at her.