Spirit started to say something, then stopped, looking behind them. Nearby, Morgaine was showing an awestruck Verdugo that she could move her enormous breasts by voluntary muscle action. Spirit was not amused. “I don’t know what I can do,” she sighed. “Dad—can you talk to her?”
“I’ll try,” he said, standing up and stretching, “but I think this is her party.”
He did, however, walk over to her and sit, dismissing a very-turned-on and disappointed New Eden major. “I think we should talk,” he said softly.
She sighed. “Mother again, right?”
“Partly. I got to admit I can’t decide what’s spell and what’s not, myself.”
“Dad—you were sixteen once, right?”
“Yeah. A long time ago.”
“Well, I never was. I wasn’t even allowed to be a kid. I was the daughter of Spirit and Mervyn and my destiny was too vital for mere play. I watched everybody else have fun, throw caution to the winds, but not me. I wasn’t allowed. Undignified. Childish. Kids are supposed to be childish. Well, I didn’t ask for this—I took my responsibilities seriously—but I got it. This program I got is an ancient one—back to the start. It’s filed under the name Kitten. I don’t want to even think of what that implies, but here I am. Forty years of studying and suffering and never having any real fun, and here I am—stuck. This body’s designed to be a combination whore and baby factory. There is absolutely nothing else it’s good for. The Fluxgirls were clearly based on this program, but they were also toned down a lot so they could do other things. Cook, clean, shop, sew, plant seed, milk cows, work a farm—all that. I couldn’t even run a nursery school—couldn’t run after the kids or keep ’em in line, let alone teach them much. It’s a body designed for somebody with an I.Q. of forty.”
“Well. . . .”
“And don’t give me that bullshit about nothing’s permanent. I know how niches form.”
“But this isn’t your niche,” he noted.
“It is now. Even now, I can’t even remember how it felt to be otherwise and look how short a time it’s been. This thing’s designed to create an immediate niche. The only trouble is, my I.Q. is a lot higher than I can use. The only thing I can get out of this is that I have an excuse finally to be a kid. To be little or sixteen or whatever. I don’t know if it’s the program or me or a little of both, but, yeah, I want my full powers back. I want all my basic skills back, too, that are blocked up here in some kind of short circuit. Yet—I’ll tell you, even if I got ’em back, I’m not sure I could give up being like this otherwise.”
He sighed. “Well, I guess I don’t have any glib answers to that. I think your mom knows that, too. It’s just hard for her to remember her own self back then. Give it time for it all to come into balance. It might not be the best balance, but it’ll be a balance.”
She smiled and leaned over and gave him a kiss, then settled back. “I have one nice use for this, though. I’m a pretty good spy.”
“Well, we broke even on that one.”
“Uh uh. The major. He’s into female bondage and all that sort of stuff. I’ve gone along and been real servile and sweet and a little dumb when it was called for, and he lets stuff drop. Dad, he figures New Eden can have a whole bunch of projectors up and running before Suzl even gets where she’s going. They started production before the tests. He’s along so they’ll have her exact location when the time’s right.”
Matson didn’t reply immediately to that, just sat there stroking his chin. Finally, he got up and said, “Maybe it’s time the major took his turn at taking the point.”
She stared at him. “Really? Uh—Granddad?”
“Yeah?”
“You were out in the void for forty years or more with almost no power. Didn’t you ever get hooked by spells?”
“Between you and me?”
“Promise.”
“Dozens of ’em. Some really wild, too.”
“Then how . . . ?”
“Never had a one that the Guild wizards couldn’t figure how to undo.”
“But some of them must have been for long times. How did you keep from going crazy?”
He grinned. “I hate to give you this secret, but it’s the only one that works. The trick is not to mind. To do your best with what you have. You’re doing O.K. You got a brain and you’re using it. Sondra was once in a fix that was worse than what you have now; she couldn’t suppress her body’s desires and she did all right, too. You can whimper and get into self-pity and give up, or you can do your best with what you got.” He paused a moment, thinking. “You think you’re up to more-active work in this?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I’ll tell you when the time comes.”
Ayesha was feeling pretty full of herself. “Oh, it was masterful, darling! Masterful!”
Suzl, too, was feeling pretty good. Not bad for a little blind sex maniac, she decided. She was very quickly moving into complete control of the group, and control of Ayesha as well. There was no longer any doubt of her by Gillian and the rest, who were following her orders and seeking her advice, and Ayesha, almost without realizing it, had become increasingly more submissive to her as she’d become far more aggressive. Soon, Suzl decided, she’d have a small radio device with her at all times.
The campaign against Liberty had been a near thing, although she basked in the glory of success and was hardly going to tell them the truth. She’d been sloppy in letting them sneak up on her, and slow to isolate and cut off the opposing wizards. It would not happen again.
She was beginning to get a number of ideas about the structure of the group, and for its future. The captives, more than three hundred and fifty of them, were her prototypes for the New Human—tall, strong, quick, and muscular, but with all the attributes that Suzl saw as feminine and good. They were also the first of the bisexual prototypes, based on the part of the program that covered her below the waist. She did not ask any permission for this, and if Ayesha had any doubts about it she didn’t voice them. For Suzl, it would be an experimental model of the new society. Soon she intended to insist that everyone in the camp take on the new form.
The three wizards were a different story. Facing a fate worse than death if they returned, and knowing they’d be hunted down even if allowed to flee, they were quite compliant. They were strong, although no match for her, and used to being at the whim of a Fluxlord. She ran a partial Kitten program on them, making them like Ayesha but retaining their mathematical skills and mental faculties, and in addition mentally binding them to the group and its ideals. Suzl had decided that this should be the form for all wizards above the common level. It would create a two-class structure, but one that was simply recognizing the ultimate reality of World: those with the power had an edge and would always be on top. She renamed them Beth, Cissy, and Debby, after three early daughters now swallowed up in New Eden, and made them accept the idea that they were her wives, as was Ayesha, although Ayesha would always be first.
Ayesha had not minded, although the new “wives” were clearly secondary and subject to her authority as well. Any jealousy she might have felt was outweighed by the idea of a dynasty of Fluxlords in which she would be part, although she had no real Flux power of her own.
Curiously, any lingering doubts she’d had about this whole operation had vanished. She knew that her way was not what most, including her old friends and loved ones, would like, but it not only seemed to offer a solution to the basic problems that plagued World but it was also the only decent alternative to New Eden’s dream.
All the activity had drawn Rajan, Fluxlord of South Liberty, to them, and he was not a wizard who could be trifled with. Gillian met with him, wearing a two-way radio so that Suzl could follow the proceedings and perhaps offer suggestions as needed, although the bald woman was making a very quick adjustment from barbarian to prime minister.
Ayesha clung to Suzl, caressing and kissing her, as they listened to the proceedings. Feeling flushed with power, she had wanted to take in Rajan as well, but Suzl refused. Using the projector to get the measure of the Fluxlord, she had discovered that Rajan was probably not even nearby. Gillian was dealing with a double: someone who not only was made to look and sound and act exactly as the Fluxlord, but who in fact was nothing more than a puppet through which the Fluxlord, by spell, could act. Fluxlords who survived were no dummies.
“We want no problems here,” Rajan said. “We have enough in the north. What we require are the return of the traitors to us, and then you and your group may have safe passage to the void.”
Gillian wasn’t buying. “They attacked us and lost,” she pointed out. “That makes them ours. They belong to us, by ancient traditions of Flux. They have paid for their actions, I assure you. Now we no longer request passage through the shield, but will move within a day out into the void.”
“Unacceptable,” Rajan responded. “We must have our own back.”
“We have always been a friend of Liberty, and wish to remain so unless you act against us. Let it go, Lord Rajan. Let it pass and be history. We will not give them back, because they are ours by right.”
“Four of us could still break you all,” the Fluxlord warned menacingly. “We need only extend the shield and deal with you at our leisure.”
“Lord Rajan, I will be blunt. You have five Hoghland wizards pressing you on three sides up north. To break us, you would leave only one of your own to defend against them. You would have us, but would lose Liberty and perhaps never recover your advantage. Further negotiation is pointless. Take us and lose your war, or let us go. We will be moving at dawn tomorrow. Let your actions, or inactions, be your decision. I hope it will be as wise as the other decisions you have made.”
Suzl nodded and Ayesha beamed with pride. “Is she not wonderful? My first and my favorite. You are my Fluxlord, my love. You are greater than all of them.”
It was hard for Suzl to argue with that idea. The fact was, the true power of a Fluxlord was becoming intoxicating to her although she’d never even considered it before. The fact that she was handicapped and physically limited seemed almost to enhance the feelings. She had always revelled in being odd, or different, back in the old days, and that had come back strong. She was blind, and needed a device to speak intelligibly, yet her word was law. She could not even move about unassisted; the body was unbalanced enough for the sighted, nearly impossible for her. In the tent, she got around some on hands and knees, but she didn’t want to appear in public like that. There were two differences, though, between the past and now, and they were big ones.
No matter how odd she was physically, she had been far more of a freak in the past. Then, too, she’d been a victim, one at the mercy of events. Now, for the first time, she was in command, she was in control, and none of her people thought her strange or handicapped. She liked it a lot, and if physical limits were the price, she was willing to pay it.
Now they came to carry her out to her throne, the projector seat, and there, within their radios, they would hear what she had to say.
“We have done a great thing here,” she told them, “and we have learned a great deal. We have great power now, and an armed force to back it up. We know, though, that all of World is currently our enemy, lusting after what we have. We can trust no one and no power potentially stronger than we are. Therefore, we are going into the void until we find a place to the north which is distanced from any major enemies, and then we will run no more. We will recruit who we need as best we can, but from then on we will defend our own ground. Those who would help us must come to us. We do not have time to waste with more travel and battle. Now we must move as quickly as we can until we find our place. Prepare to go!”
“They’re moving into the void,” Spirit reported. “The shield is strong but has a different quality. I would say their new wizards are maintaining it, allowing them to transport the projector without the need to keep it on all the time.”
Matson frowned. “Could the three of you break that shield?”
“Probably not,” she replied honestly. “We’re about even, I’d say. But we’d have to get close to have a real crack at it, and we certainly couldn’t break it, even with help, before they could deploy the projector.”
He nodded, thinking. “All right. When we get to the void, I’m going to plug in and send some messages. I need to know what’s happening elsewhere if I can. Other than that, we’ll continue to follow them. I only wish I knew how much time we have—how far along New Eden is. I’m just wondering if Verdugo could be turned.”
“He’s so ugly inside I’m not sure. Maybe turning him into another Morgaine and dangling his precious manhood back in front of him would do it. Sondra and I have been itching to cast a spell on him.”
“Uh uh. Not yet. I need his reactions. He knows the New Eden timetable and he’s a reliable judge of what our situation is. Morgaine’s keeping a good eye on him right now.” He sighed. “O.K., let’s pack up and get ready to move!”
For many days Ayesha’s raiders went north by northeast at a very brisk thirty-five kilometers a day—brisk, considering the number of people and the amounts of equipment being moved and the weight of the projector itself. Small parties were dispatched from time to time by the raiders to scout ahead, and particularly to drop in on the smaller, one-wizard Fluxlands along the way. About a third of the new converts had been infantry and needed horses, which could not be materialized out of Flux like the food and water they consumed. Larger Fluxlands were avoided, to keep from any repetition of the Liberty incident. The small party following also tried to avoid any habitable areas, if only to keep from either running into the enemy or betraying their existence. Still, they crisscrossed many stringer routes, and met packtrains and stringer couriers from time to time.
The couriers coming from the region of New Eden told of massive border fortifications being built all along the frontier, and large troop movements to those areas. Regions in the industrial heartland had been closed to all outsiders under threat of death, and even the area near the capital around the Gate had been sealed off. There were lots of rumors, but it appeared that things were going to be that way for the long term and nobody had any real specifics.
Twenty days out, the raiders swung sharply to the northwest, an action which caught the pursuers by surprise and which now headed the raiders towards some small independent Fluxlands close in to the cluster of Anchors around Gate Three. They bypassed two, this time without even a courtesy call, but halted just short of a third.
Matson sat atop his horse, studied his maps, and frowned. “It’s an odd place for them to stop,” he said, puzzled. “They’re only a few days from Anchor Gorgh, one of the few relatively stable Anchors around these days, and that Fluxland over there is called Garden on the charts with a note that it is not to be a stringer stop.”