Up close the dark hole showed a web-like grid of strong cables going completely around it and down into the darkness. She knew what to expect, and gingerly turned and started climbing down, the Page 162
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bird placed down on her shoulder and seeming a very heavy and unbalancing weight. It was not, however, far to the floor, where the webbing stopped and a tubular structure replaced it, going off horizontally in front of her. No horrible Guardians had yet appeared, and she began to relax a bit: She did not doubt, though, that those Guardians existed. Once, at another Hellgate, she watched while sacrificial slaves had been ordered in, saw the flashes of multicolored energies fly out of the dark central hole, and had heard the horrible screams of agony from the slaves as they had been destroyed.
The tunnel was long and sloped slightly down-2.^2. Jack L. Chatker
wards, but again was no problem. Although made of apparently seamless material the yellow-orange color of the void itself, it was actually sectioned, and as she reached the first section it glowed for a distance of ten meters in front of her. She walked forward, and near the end of the light, at the gaping darkness, the next section came on. When she entered it, the first section winked out. There were seven such sections, and in this direction it was a long, long walk indeed. Now, though, she reached the end, and before her was illuminated the gate itself, a great swirl that might be solid, might be energy, or might be itself alive. To her right was a large, blocky machine that did not seem to belong to this eerie place, with its hundreds of small squares and its read-out screens. This was the locking mechanism, and the ultimate trap for anyone attempting to open the gate, clearly placed here not by the builders of the gate but by someone, or something, else. To walk into that swirl, without all seven machines being fed their unique combinations within sixty seconds, would trigger instant vaporization.
But she turned away from swirl and machine, to the wall opposite the locking device. There was nothing whatsoever to mark or otherwise distinguish the wall from any other part of it, unless you knew the proper pattern. She pressed it in several spots with the flat of her hand, eventually tracing a pattern that had no meaning to her. A section of the wall glowed bright red, but she did not pay any attention to it, turning around instead to see an intricate pattern now traced on the floor of the tube, almost in front of the machine. It was a duplicate of the pattern she had just traced with her palm on the wall, enclosed in a circle of red.
She walked to it, then into the center of it. There was a slight moment of dizziness, and the Hellgate vanished, replaced with the view of a dark and SOUL RIDER: SPIRITS OF FLUX AND ANCHOR 233
damp sub-basement piled high with the signs of work.
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She stepped off the cleared and swept spot and into dust and debris, and as she did she felt all sense of the Flux leave her. It made her feel empty, as it always did when she entered Anchor, as if something wonderful and important had been taken away.
She had left her regular robe here when she’d left, and had reentered naked so that she would be as unencumbered as possible. She groped in the dark and found a small light switch, then pushed on it. A small, naked light bulb hanging from a wire came to life. She saw her robe on the nail, then managed to put it on, although she found she had to remove the bracelet binding the falcon’s chain to her to do it properly. She had a few seconds of nervousness at that, but the falcon made no move to escape. Now she reattached it, and slid back the bar that sealed the door to outside entry.
She opened it carefully, stepped out into the corridor, then reached back, shut off the light, and closed it again. She fumbled in her robe, found the key, and then locked the door again from the outside. She had spent a lot of time making the door look like nothing more than a bunch of nailed-on boards covering a crack in the foundation, and it was very convincing.
A dozen novices, working secretly at night for more than six months under her direction, had first discovered the old door, then taken up the old concrete flooring inside the room. The sub-basement was a secure area: the wardens and their monitors did not reach this far down, and, in fact, only the Sister General and the chief warden had keys to the area at all, almost never used except during the annual maintenance checks. It had been easy, though, to get the key from the Sister General’s safe and give it to the raven Haldayne, who, of 234 Jack L. Chatker
course, easily returned two so identical they even had the same old markings under a microscope.
Things done in Flux held as they were in Anchor, within, of course, the physical laws of Anchor. No huge flying creature such as she had become from Persellus to Hellgate could fly in Anchorit was”a violation of the fixed laws of physics. But a raven was a raven, in Flux and Anchor, and so was a falcon.
She went swiftly now through back passages and service areas she knew by heart, avoiding the wardens’ mechanical security sensors as only one with an intimate knowledge of the building could, then took the small back hidden stairway to the Sister General’s luxurious apartment, using combinations even the Sister General had probably not bothered to learn. Explaining the falcon would not be a great problem. She had one of the very few VIP necklaces given out by the Sister General that made her immune to most of the security devices in the temple. The wardens would not necessarily Page 164
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see her go in or out at any time, nor would they bother to note or log it if they did.
After checking and finding, to her relief, that the Temple chief was not home, she checked the time and then the schedule on Diastephanos’ desk. She had selected this time because the Sister General was supposed to be out of town visiting some of the local churches for three days, but there was no way to guarantee that the old bitch wouldn’t louse her up by coming home early. Clock and calendar said that Sister Daji had cut it close, but still had a margin of several hours, perhaps a whole day, before the play began again. That would be very convenient.
She removed the falcon-restraining bracelet once more and clipped it around the brass air conditioning duct, letting Demon perch on the back of a SOUL RIDER: SPIRITS OF FLUX AND ANCHOR 235
chair. The bird still seemed very calm and somewhat confused, and that suited her fine.
She went to the intercom and buzzed the wardens’
office. “This is Daji,” she told them unnecessarily, using the vacant and ignorant intonation she always used. “When is she coming back?” There was no need to say who “she” was.
“We expect her any time after eight this evening,”
a warden told her. Again she glanced at the clock.
Barely three. “Thanks,” she said, and switched off.
Almost five hours.
She took a long, comfortable bath, then put on only the loose, open informal robe and called services. A novice was sent up immediately, who took her dirty clothes and also received a written notice signed by the Sister General for the special construction to be sent up. The novice bowed and left. Poor, brainwashed idiots, she couldn’t help thinking. She recalled the ones who’d done all the work for her below. All now were Haldayne’s creatures, having tested the Hellgate passage before she dared go through.
She got a bite to eat from the small kitchenette while she waited. After twenty minutes or so, the buzzer rang and two novices delivered the solid wood perch she had ordered at Haldayne’s instructions days before. She thanked and dismissed them, then took it over and placed it by the Sister General’s desk, then moved Demon from her odd perch and attached her to the ready-made one.
She fed the bird some raw meat from the small refrigerator, then went to work on the sewing machine in her small and normally unused office area.
Soon she had a scarlet hood, which fitted over the bird’s head. As she’d hoped, the falcon went to sleep.
She sighed, finally relaxing, and realized that Page 165
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Haldayne had done his homework well. This time he’d thought of all the angles, of that she was now Jack L. Chalker
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certain. This time, for the first time, a known and guarded gate would be totally in the hands of the Seven, making only three to go. If it worked here, it would work, with variations, elsewhere-The long centuries of frustration would be nearing an end.
Now she redid her hair, applied perfumes and make-up, then went back into her office, lifted the sewing machine off its cabinet, reached in and took out three medium-sized pill bottles. She removed one pill from each, then replaced them in their hiding place and resecured the sewing machine.
She went back into the living room area, turned on the small entertainment console and took a tiny clear cube no larger than her thumb nail and put it in the device. Standing there, she dictated a long string of sentences, then programmed the device. It would play until she shut it off, but when she shut it off it would self-erase.
She poured herself a whiskey and soda, then took the three pills, then went over and turned on the recorder to playback and sat back in a large, comfortable chair, feet up.
It took several minutes for the pills to take effect, and she just lay there, relaxed, and let them do their job. The recorder kept going, and, finally, it was the only thing in her mind.
“All memory gone, floating, relaxed, so pleasant, so free of any thought, any worry, anything at all, just feeling so, so good and relaxed… . You are Sister Daji, and she alone is you now. Let her come, let her become you, flow into you, so that she alone is in control….” Then came a series of instructions to Daji, an explanation of the falcon and perch, and an account of what she had been doing these past three days. She drifted into a deep, deep hypnotic trance.
Haldayne had created Daji by working in Flux with the real one, before he transformed her into another of his creatures. The Daji persona was SOUL RIDER: SPIRITS OF FLUX AND ANCHOR 237
then transferred, also in Flux, to her, where it resided, complete but separate from her. No chances could or would be taken of any compromise in her identity, which was totally submerged, inactive, until brought forth again by a special trigger command given by Haldayne or one of his agents or another of the Seven.
And so the woman who awoke with a start in the chair was not an agent, nor did she even know Page 166
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what the Seven were. She was, in fact, a carbon copy of the original Daji, a woman with the body of a goddess, the mind of a child, and an insatiable worship of and lust for older women. The agent of Hell had not minded. Otherwise, this sort of life would have been unbearable.
The woman in the chair frowned, annoyed by the prattle of the recorder. She got up, went over to it, and shut it off. The recording on it erased automatically. She popped out the small module, picked another at random and popped it in. A lively tune began playing, which she started humming along with and dancing to. Eventually she tired of the game and went into the Sister General’s office and walked up to the sleeping falcon. “Oooo, my pretty birdie! Daji’s just gonna love you to death.”
It was well into the night, and the Sister General had long ago returned. Now both she and Daji were asleep on the bed in the next room, and the entire complex was in darkness save for a small nightlrght in the commode.
Deep below the temple, below the sub-basement and foundation itself, below even the glassy-smooth rock base, something triggered on. Now there was a slight hissing noise in the sub-basement itself, and in the area marked in dull chalk in the empty and damp room a form took shape. None in Anchor could see the form, and none in Flux would 238 Jack L. Chalker
want to. It was a creature of pure energy, yet so terrible was it to gaze upon that humans would go mad at the sight, could they see it at all. Slowly it looked around, not seeing as things of flesh and blood saw but sensing energy and receiving direction-Slowly, it stepped off the chalk-marked area in the floor and up to the door. Although the light was still switched off, the lone hanging bulb suddenly glowed. ;
It paused only a moment at the door, then seemed to flow under it and out the other side. Once in the corridor, which itself became lit as the bulbs received the energy from the creature, it moved slowly and deliberately down to the far end, where a complex of machinery whined dully. It merged carefully with the power grid, not wanting to overload it, although those still awake not only in the Temple but throughout the capital’s electrically powered area frowned and noticed lights seemed to be burning brighter and electrical devices seemed to speed up slightly.
Firmly in the power grid, the creature rode it, searching the entire Temple area until it came upon the one place it was searching for. The tiny nightlight in the Sister General’s bathroom glowed, then flared and burnt out, as the creature entered, but other lights came on in their ghostly fashion.
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In the bedroom, one of the sleeping women gave a muffled cry, turned over, and was soon fast asleep again.
The creature was not heading for the bedroom, but for the Sister General’s office. The rear area was again in darkness as the lights in the office came eerily to life.
The Soul Rider inside the sleeping bird read the intense energy field and was confused. It knew the nature of the creature, but could not comprehend how it had gotten here. Still, it understood that the unknown power that directed its destiny had SOUL RIDER: SPIRITS OF FLUX AND ANCHOR 239
sent an ally, although it was unprecedented in form. The Guardians of the Gates of Hell were in fact creatures of Flux with a specific mission, and to have one detach itself from that mission was almost impossible to believe.
The Soul Rider sensed the Guardian, but had no common language to speak to it, if, indeed, such a creature had speech. Still, when the Rider understood that the Guardian was about to touch its host, it screamed out, “No! Do not destroy the host!”
Energy touched the sleeping bird, and engulfed it, then transformed it. Matter became energy, and the stronger of the three entities now carried the other two in a manner that had no words to describe. Back again they went to the bathroom, and into the electrical system at the nightlight.
Again, all electrical devices flared in the capital, and in the wardens’ security office the alarm board rang. The startled warden looked up at the board, which showed every single alarm in the Temple triggered all at once, with all the tiny lights flashing on and off. “Damn!” she swore. “A stinking short on my shift!”
Below, the Guardian emerged once more from the power grid and walked to the door in the sub-basement, then flowed under it and back to the chalk-marked area. The area glowed for a moment, and then they were in the tunnel at the gate to Hell itself.
The Guardian moved swiftly up the tunnel, which blazed with light, then up through the hole and into the air above the saucer-like depression. The Soul Rider and its companion were flung high into the air and out, away from the gate and into the void.
The Soul Rider was confused and bewildered, but lost no time in acting. Having been present at the casting of the spell on its host it knew the Jack L. Chalker
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counter, and rushed it into form, with modifications to suit the occasion. It did not understand what had just occurred, but it certainly knew why.
The energy that had been transformed from matter became matter again, reconstituted. Cass burst into sudden consciousness, remembering everything, including the details of what had happened while she was in bird form, although it all seemed distant, unreal, almost like it had happened to someone else. Her last clear personal memory had been going into the hotel room in Globbus.
Instinctively she stretched out, and was startled to find that she did indeed have wings. So she was still a bird, and it had been no dream, but she was now in Flux, thinking, remembering, and free. Sh^
wondered how she had gotten here, since the last bird memory was the Sister General and Daji playing with her, then hooding her to sleep, but here she was, suddenly whole in mind and flying through the void.
Only it wasn’t a void.
Below she saw the void as wizards and stringers saw it, a criss-crossing network of complex lines of differing colors and intensities. They had an insubstantial look to them, much the same as the afterimage of a swinging light, but they were fixed in place and could be followed.
She banked and circled a moment, staring at the patterns, flying as if it was the most normal and natural thing in the world to her, but she felt some concern. She knew she had to get back, to warn Matson and the others, but which of those strings led to Globbus? Which to Persellus? Which to other places, perhaps Anchor Logh itself?
Although there were countless secondary strings, there were only three main ones, so she picked one at random and followed it, hoping it would lead eventually to someplace that would orient her.
Although there were no real landmarks except the SOUL RIDER: SPIRITS OF FLUX AND ANCHOR 241
occasional patterns in some of the secondary strings, she knew that she was flying abnormally fast and realized that she was feeling neither hunger nor thirst. The Flux was supplying all the energy she required.
She was upon it almost before she realized it, breaking through into Anchor, At that moment she felt herself start to drop like a stone, and with great difficulty she turned herself back into the void, thankful that she had had enough altitude to make it in time. Strength and that curious sense of weightlessness returned. Now, at least, she knew Page 169
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where she wasi for below her as she’d started to fall had been the apron and gate to Anchor Logh-Now two main trails led from Anchor, and she pikd the right-hand one, remembering Matson’s comment that Globbus and Persellus were almost the same distance from the Anchor. She realized after a bit that she still wasn’t certain if this was the route to Persellus or to Globbus, but she had no choice now but to follow it and pray that there were no other forks. Suddenly she passed over two figures, odd enough to see along any route in the void. She was going too fast to tell much about them, but banked, slowed, and approached them again, flying high enough, she hoped, to avoid their detection but just low enough that when she banked and came around again she could see more about them.
Both were mounted on horses with just saddlebags for their gear. One was a young, handsome man dressed in riding clothes who had a full, light beard. The other was a small, well-built woman, bare from the waist up but wearing a broadbrimmed hat and blue denim work pants. She recognized the figure. Suzl! But who was the other man? An agent of Haldayne’s, or one of Mervyn’s men? After all this, she decided she had to risk an appearance. At least these two, alone, would be Jack L. Chalker
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easier to deal with if the man were an enemy than an armed and wizard-filled camp suspicious of everything and likely to shoot first and ask questions afterwards. She came around again and this time dipped low in front of them, so both coutd see her. She saw their faces look forward and up, and their mouths droop, but they made no hostile moves. Both riders, however, stopped, and she circled once more as they watched and landed right in front of them.
With a shock she saw that she was as large as they were, if not even larger. They stared at each other for a moment, and she wondered if she could speak. Finally she said, “Suzl?” It sounded right.
Suzl frowned. “Cass? Is that really you? Hoty Mother of Universes! What in hell happened to you?”
Feeling a little relieved, she responded, “First, who’s that with you?”
The young man chuckled. “Why, my dear, I am Mervyn.” His voice changed, taking on the old man’s low, broken cackle. “We are what we choose to be in Flux.”
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She looked back at Suzl. “Is that right?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Second biggest shock I ever had. You’re the third. What happened to you at the hotel? Who changed you intothat?”
“I’m not sure what ‘that’ is,” she told them honestly. “Some sort of bird, I guess.”
“Some sort, yes,” Mervyn agreed, and made a gesture. Between them appeared a huge mirrored surface, and she could see herself.