came a strange and eerie English-speaking voice in her head
that seemed composed more of hisses and growls than human
speech.
"What? Who?" she said softly aloud, startled.
"Hurry! Not much time!" the voice warned urgently.
Suddenly she saw a vision in her head through catlike eyes;
an eerie, glowing scene without color or much depth, of
creatures that were not quite human, riding animals that were
not quite anything, either.
She frowned, puzzled. "Shadowcat? Is that you? You can
speak?"
"I hoped to keep that secret, but hurry now! Wake guard,
tell him. then wake others!"
She got up and looked around in the darkness. Dorion was
supposedly on guard duty but she saw him slumped against a
tree, dozing. She crept up to him and bent down near him
"Dorion!" she hissed. "Wake up!"
He stirred, then jumped in reflexive panic and almost
knocked her down. "Who? Wha—?"
"Shadowcat's out there and sees a small army moving
this way, not far off," she told him. "You must wake the
others!"
341
142 Jack L. Chalker
"Charley, I—army7" He was instantly on his feet if not
quite fully awake. "Halagar! Boday! Trouble!*'
Halagar was up and awake in a flash, Boday a bit more
slowly and grumpily.
Halagar grabbed his rifle and quickly went over to Dorion.
The automatic rifles they'd stolen from the sentries were very
handy, but they hadn't a whole lot of ammunition for them
"She can see through the cat," Dorion told him, nodding
to Charley. "She says the cat's seeing a lot of armed men
coming."
Halagar frowned and looked at Charley as if wondering
how such a simple creature could even understand or convey
such thoughts, but he was a professional. Such questions
were for later, not when danger lurked close at hand. "Pack
up what you can and quickly!" he hissed. "Dorion—get the
horses. The three of you retreat into the woods a safe distance
so the horses won't betray you. I'll come for you."
"Yes? And what will you be doing?" Boday asked him.
"I want to see who and what they are, if they are there at
all and not one of Dorion's wet dreams. Hurry! And don't
worry—I won't be seen. Which way are they coming from?"
"No way to tell, I think," the magician replied. "It's just
visions from a cat."
They gathered up what they could and did as instructed.
Dorion wasn't sure how far in they should go and wanted to
continue a good ways, but Charley was adamant. "Just far
enough! We want to be able to find him and him us again!
Besides, I want to tune into Shadowcat again."
They stopped perhaps a hundred yards within the woods
and Charley sat on the grass, cross-legged, and concentrated
while Boday and Dorion held the horses nervously.
"Yes, I see them!" Charley told the others. "Shadowcat's
up in a tree or something, looking down at them. Big, ugly
sorts. Hideous in some ways. No hair, it all looks like bone.
Sort of diamond-shaped bony heads out of which eyes peer
kind of like, well, maybe a turtle or something. Just slits for
noses, and the mouth looks more like a short beak. Bony
plates down their backs, too. Mean-looking mothers. Riding
what look like baby dinosaurs or something, with the same
kind of bony plates and heads."
"They sound too big to be of this world," Dorion noted.
WAR OF TtiE MAELSTROM 143
"Well, they got like machine guns or something- All of
'em," Charley reported. "Jeez! It's like a small army!" To
Shadowcat she shot the thought, "Why didn't you ever tell me
you could communicate?"
"Quiet!" came the eerie-sounding reply in her head. "/
have enough problems just keeping balance. People do too
much talk, say nothing."
"Listen!" Boday hissed. "You can hear them even this far
back!" The horses stirred a bit, getting an unnerving scent
and strange sounds in the darkness.
They were past in a few minutes, the sounds slowly vanish-
ing in the night, and things were suddenly quiet once more.
There was a stirring in the dark forest to their left and guns
came up, but Halagar said, "Hold it! Know what you shoot
before you fire!" and stepped out.
"What were they?" Dorion asked him.
"Galoshans," he replied. "About fifty of them, all heavily
armed with weapons of a kind I've never seen before, al-
though 1 can imagine what they can do. They're a particularly
unpleasant group and I'm not surprised to see them in this.
They live mostly on a mixture of beast's blood and milk, and
their skins or whatever are hard as rock. You've got to
practically hit them dead on with a bullet in the face to stop
them. They're tribal nomads from a world that could stand a
lot of improvement. I was once part of a detachment who had
to hunt some renegades down. The idea of them with mere
rifles, let alone any kind of repeating weapon, is chilling."
"They were heading towards the Tishbaal hub," Dorion
noted. "So they're between us and where we want to be."
"Well, there'll be that and worse," Halagar assured them.
"Make what camp you can here, just in case they have a rear
guard or are only the first wave." He stalked over to Charley
and pulled her up roughly by her arm and off to one side,
away from the others. He pulled her to him and slapped her
face so hard that her head snapped back and the resulting pain
that came a few moments later brought tears to her eyes.
"You listen to me," he hissed. "You are mine! If you
need to warn anybody again, you wake me up and tell me,
understand? You're mine! The next time you forget that or
fail to please me, I'll break your damned arms! And you tell
neither of them about this, understand? You just tell them you
144 jack L. Chalker
worship me and want to be mine always. And if anybody
should ask if I beat you, tell 'em you love it." Then he
grabbed her by her hair and almost dragged her back to the
camp.
She was shocked by his reaction, and confused. He'd given
no orders before that she had to obey on this, and she would
have found it next to impossible to tell him in Short Speech
what was coming and how she knew it. This was a side of
Halagar she'd not seen before and one that frightened her.
She began to wonder for the first time just what things would
be like if Dorion and Boday weren't around to keep him in
check.
"How did the girl know?" he asked Dorion, seemingly
calmed down. "How did she tell you with the air she has for
brains?"
Dorion sighed, wondering how much to tell, and deciding
to tell as little as he could get away with. "Like most of her
type she comes from someplace else and she has her own
language. I understand the tongue, but few others do. When
there's danger she reverts to it, knowing only the Short
Speech."
"Hmph! I thought the potions took all that from them."
Clearly Dorion hadn't heard the altercation in the woods
and it was too dark to see any effects. "What's got the bug
up your ass?" he wanted to know. "If she couldn't do it, she
couldn't have warned us, and we'd have been spotted by their
forward scouts. The girl and the cat saved us!"
Halagar did not respond, but stalked off to prepare his own
bedding once more.
Charley felt scared and confused. What the hell was going
on now? It had been going about as well as she could have
hoped, and then this. She needed to put this out of her mind,
be Shari again, but Shari, who was almost automatic, wouldn't
come. Her face still stung, and when she touched it, it hurt a
bit.
"Shadowcat? I need somebody to talk to. Are you there?"
"Go sleep, stupid girl?" came the response. "You wanted
him, you have him and he have you. You want furry friend to
talk to you, next time pick dog.''
She didn't 'get much if any sleep that night, but in the
morning Shadowcat returned and took his accustomed berth
WAR OF THE MAELSTROM 145
io the saddle blanket having refused to say another word to
her. She did not revert to Shari at any time then or during the
next few days, but she acted as if she had to Halagar, who
seemed both rougher and more callous towards her than
before. She wondered if this was just his ego at not awaken-
ing until a rather noisy force was almost upon them when
he'd convinced alt of them, even himself, that he was nearly
infallible in these situations—or whether that was simply the
catalyst for the real Halagar to appear.
Still, as they neared the null border and had to stop and
make camp well off any roads or paths, she found herself left
alone with Boday as Halagar decided to scout what lay ahead
and wanted Dorion's magical eye and experience with him.
Boday came over to her and bent down and examined Char-
ley's face.
"Boday thought so," the artist muttered. "The dark skin
dye hides the bruising but the eye shows it still. So Halagar
beats you, does he? Boday noted the resemblance to her late
and unlamented second husband."
Shadowcat crawled out of her perch, stretched, and as if on
cue crawled into Charley's lap. Although she wasn't too
certain about the cat, if it really was a cat. at this stage,
Charley had reasoned that at least the thing was on their side.
If not, why warn them at all at the cost of betraying just what
intelligence lay behind those feline eyes? She began to stroke
the cat, and, thanks to Yobi's spell, her thoughts became
audible to Boday.
"I do not mind the beating. In fact. 1 enjoy it," she said to
the artist although those weren't the words she meant to send.
That damned slave spell!
"Ah! He commanded you to say that, didn't he? And that
you're a masochist, and you love him, and would die for him,
and all that crap. Yes?"
"Yes," she responded, at least thankful of Boday's
worldliness.
"Ah! My little butterfly, how you are still having your
education, even if you do not see all the truths or understand
(he values, or learn all the lessons! Back in the long ago you
were a courtesan, a cultured creature pampered and kept with
only the best sent to you and you thought that was what it was
all about. The romance of the erotic, yes? But there you were
146
Jack L. Chalker
protected from the average by Boday and her procurers. The
girls on the street, they must take what comes, and those who
are out there are not simply poorer but far stranger. The men
who love to beat up women, the mutilators, the fetishists—
the men who are sick in the head. Anyone who will pay. That
is where you would have wound up eventually, as courtesans
are prized for being young and even the most pampered grow
old too fast. That is why the memory potions or happy drugs
arc so necessary, hi so many ways, after all this, you arc still
a child, relishing no responsibility, seeing the worid not as
the cesspool it really is. but as a playground."
"I've had a choice?" Charley retorted.
Boday shrugged. "Life deals mean cards many times—
most times. The point was not what you were forced to
become or do, the point is that you enjoyed it, relished it,
embraced it. Boday should not have made you so beautiful.
Boday should have made you walk the streets. Then your
brain would have been plotting and planning escapes and
working against your lot. You have been a fighter, but only
when you had to be, and only so long as the danger was
imminent. Then you quit and retreat into this oh, so comfort-
able shell."
"What can I do? I'm blind and I'm weak and I must obey
him. You know how the spell works."
"Indeed. But your blindness isn't just in your eyes, it's in
your heart and soul. Do you believe for one minute you
would have been given as some kind of payment to Halagar if
you had raised even the smallest objection to Dorion? We
survived this far without him, and if we survive, it will not be
because of him. But, no. You wanted dear, sweet Halagar,
Mister Muscles with the perfect cologne and the granite prick.
When you begin to think of yourself as an object, a thing, a
pretty flower and nothing more, then you start judging every-
one else by that as well. Very well, you have his outside—but
you must take his dark inside with the rest. He is an evil,
twisted man. His kind, who choose killing as a career, usu-
ally arc, and Boday has seen many in her life."
"But he's on our side!"
"So? He is an evil man who is on our side. There are
probably countless good men, holy men, on their side. Whose
side someone is on only matters when someone is attacking
147
WAR OF THE MAELSTROM
you, but no matter how dangerous the situation, you are
rarely under attack. The rest of the time you must co-exist
with swine. Not that all men are swine, but the ones who arc
attracted to girls like you—or women like me—tend to be.
That is why Boday found her darling Susama such a joy and a
relief.''
Charlie was suddenly struck with a revelation. "You could
reverse that potion, couldn't you? A top alchemist could
always figure an antidote."
"No, it is a good one, but love potions are very simple,
realty. To counter it you need only take an overriding potion
that redirects the fixation to something neutral and harmless.
More commonly, and with fewer side effects, one just finds a
good magician and uses magic to overpower and neutralize
the potion. That is what some of my friends and associates
did back in Mashtopoi a few weeks after 1 took it, when they
recognized the symptoms."
"You mean—you haven't been under a love potion all this
time?"
Boday laughed. "Darling, Boday has had nine husbands,
and the only one who was any good died of heart failure after
a night of passion. The rest were rich or intelligent or some-
times handsome but they were rich, intelligent, or handsome
scum. Boday murdered three of them herself, although if the
facts were fully known and she was not such an expert at
alchemy, she would still have been freed. Those weeks with
the potion, she realized that she did not, never had, needed a
husband—she needed a wife. Boday had to live a long time
and fight the world before she learned why she was so
miserable and what she really needed, and the difference
between love and lust."
"And you gave all that up—voluntarily? For this?"
"Well, not for this, my little darling, but she gave it up,
yes. To tell you the truth, Boday was at a creative dead end