03. Masters of Flux and Anchor (9 page)

And that left Spirit entirely on her own. It wouldn't have bothered her if she still had the power, but it bothered her now. There were lots of places, good and bad, on World, but she didn't know where any of them were and which were the good ones. There was nothing to do but to walk until she found a string, and follow it wherever it led.

She felt the Soul Rider stir inside her head. It had always been there, this invisible, incomprehensible com¬panion. She knew it had been in her mother until she was born, but had then chosen to be born with her. She had never feared it, and had pretty much taken it for granted.

She began walking, and covered what seemed to be a good distance, without ever crossing a string. She grew tired, and thirsty, and finally stopped and stretched out in the void. She always slept when she felt like it, and did so now. There was nothing to be done for the thirst.

The Soul Rider stirred again as she slept, and assessed the situation. It could aid her body, minimize the harm, but the point was that, without someone with the power, it couldn't make what she needed. It felt frustrated, for it knew all the spells but had no way to carry them out.

Spirit might be discovered tomorrow, but it could sense no one nearby, not now, and while there was a red string nearby, indicating a main trail to somewhere, there was no telling exactly where it led. To direct her into the hands of the very people who had done this was not in Spirit's, or the Rider's, best interest.

The line, the link that connected it to its unseen master, was open and functioning. Certainly what had happened had been monitored and recorded, it thought. Why was I directed to this poor woman if only to watch her die? They may be searching now, but they may have done so com¬plete a job that no one even knows about it, and won't for weeks. It was often that long, or longer, between visitors to the Fluxland.

The Soul Rider, for the first time in many lifetimes of hosts, was confused enough to transmit a request for instructions, rather than simply waiting for a command to come.

And, to its surprise, there was a reply, in the complex binary code that was its language.

Probabilities indicate the unlikelihood of regaining the established protector, the message said. Therefore a pragmatic, although radical, course is called for. Therefore, direct contact is authorized in the following manner. It went on to feed the proper strings of instruction, and the Soul Rider recorded it and was amazed by its simplicity and excited by its potential. Never before had a Soul Rider been permitted to make direct contact with a human intelligence, although it altered and influenced human behavior. It understood that this exception was being made because they wanted Spirit the way she was for some reason, and because Spirit could not communicate any¬thing except the most basic information to another, by pantomime.

Coydt's spell had altered the internal language by which Spirit's brain processed information. The new language the Soul Rider had always known was mathematical in nature, but now it was clear through the strings that it was a simplified variant of its own. Until now, it had not been permitted to recognize this, although it was more than logical. It knew her every thought and feeling.

It sent out a tentative probe, and Spirit woke up with a start, very puzzled. She could have sworn, although it was impossible, that someone was calling her name.

Spirit? Do not be afraid. . . .

It was something—but it wasn't sound, and it wasn't a voice. She was—thinking it—but it wasn't her! Or was it? Had the experience driven her mad?

It is real. Spirit. I must use your own mind to communi¬cate, so when I must talk, you cannot. But I understand your thoughts. I have always understood them.

"Who are you?"

I am a spirit of Flux and Anchor. Many call me the Soul Rider.

She didn't know whether to believe her own thoughts or not. She was confused, a bit afraid, and yet very excited. It was the first time she had been able to talk to anyone in a long, long time. If she was just crazy, well—what difference did it make?

The excitement turned to anger and frustration. "Why has it taken so long for you to speak? Don't you know how desperate I was to talk with someone, anyone?"

I was not permitted to know how. I begged for a way to help you, and received the knowledge.

"Who—gives you permission? How?"

I do not know. None of us knows. We have no choice in what we do but to follow orders.

"But not this time?"

No. Not this time. My masters believe you are of some future service to them.

"What happened back there?"

One of the Seven, aided by a dugger cult, attacked your mother as she was outside, rendered her inoperative, and carried her away. Your home was destroyed by that same one of the Seven, using one of the great amplifiers of Flux power. That is all I know.

"Is my mother—dead?"

No. I receive data sufficient to indicate that they intend to render her harmless in a way that is different than but at least as restricting as what you must bear.

She didn't like the sound of that. "Will it work?"

Unknown, but the probability is that it will. The Seven would not take on a top wizard, a Soul Rider, and a construct of one of the Nine unless they were very certain of themselves. The mere fact that it was done puts the prob¬ability of success over the eighty percentile mark.

"I—I don't understand numbers any more."

It will work.

"Oh." She felt genuine sorrow, and tears came to her eyes, but she knew it was useless to dwell on things she could neither understand nor control. She let the sorrow pass, then said, "Then I am alone now."

You are not alone, nor am I. We will never be alone again. Allow me to control your body commands, and we will find food and drink.

"You can do that?"

There is a stringer trail nearby, a main one running between Anchors and major Fluxlands. Such trails have pockets the stringers create for themselves so that they might have food and water if need be. We will find one.

It was a curious sensation. She got up and began to walk, and she had no control over it at all. She had never feared the Soul Rider, nor did she now, but the whole thing was unnerving. They came to the string in a short while, and she stood there while the Rider probed.

They are searching for you.

"They? Who's 'they?' Friends or enemies?"

Unknown. It is a relative concept, anyway. Do you wish to be discovered?

''Without knowing who's who?"

Then we will avoid them. Come, we will move away from the string and follow it in parallel. The nearest pocket is barely within my range, but we can get there fairly quickly. You can run, you know, at the speed of a trotting horse.

"I know. I was just thinking about my son." I know your thoughts, remember. When you have fed and watered, we will seek out one of the Nine who will be able to help.

This is the land where dwells the chairman of the Nine, Mervyn.

"I—I think I was there once."

More than once. But it is dangerous to enter. Agents are watching the sole entrance and charting the comings and goings. It is most certainly how they found you in the first place. They have things that could hurt or kill you. I cannot read the composition of those inside the Fluxland from this distance, but certainly there are friends, power¬ful friends, inside.

She hesitated. "Do they—want me?"

The only minds open to me are minds which I have entered. I can calculate probabilities, but even here that is impossible. They may, or they may not. The odds go both ways.

She didn't know what to do. "What do you recommend?"

I have no directive. It is a question of what you want and feel. If we try, and are not captured, they will know you are safe. Your loved one will be reassured.

She thought about it. "But if I go in, I will stay in. They will fear for me, and I will be kept from all harm. I have a nightmare of being captured and put on display. This would be little different, even if it is my son and my friends."

Is it so different from what you had?

"Yes. I didn't have you. Alone,  there would be no choice, but I only stayed back there for my mother's sake, knowing she needed to be with me and knowing, too, that going out with her would mark her for her enemies no matter what her disguise. There's no reason for it anymore. I want to be free, to roam, as my nature tells me."

Again I receive no countermanding data. Whatever dan¬ger you will help prevent is not imminent. But some will not give up the search.

"We'll worry about that when they catch me. I think after this long time I'm due some fun, away from this, away from all the mess around here."

Hold! The stringer who visited you just before the end emerges from the Fluxland. She turns north.

Spirit thought a moment. ' 'Can we keep pace with her? Until we're out of immediate danger, that is?"

I believe so. She seems in no hurry.

"She goes back to work, then. Tell me—do you think I could make her understand? Do you think she'd turn me over, or go along?"

Unknown. Do you wish to take the chance?

"It's worth a try. They'd catch me otherwise. I know that."

The Soul Rider gave some thought to the problem. It was in its own way as limited as, and by, its host, yet it had powers to influence others in Flux or Anchor. That was its job. It was beginning to like being half a person, having something other than a vicarious life, and its mas¬ters were not interfering. Perhaps, it thought to itself, it was some sort of experiment. In many ways, its powers were empathic. It could transmit and control emotional reactions in others, and by that shape their choices. It had done that, on directive, with countless hosts, and with Cass and Spirit and many of those with whom they came in contact, such as Suzl and Matson, but it had always done so by directive.

But there was no reason now why it couldn't do a little bit on initiative. Its stake in its host had just increased massively.

Spirit broke into the inhuman sprint that her incredible body was capable of, and began paralleling Sondra in the void.

6

WHAT YOU NEED

Cassie had had several good months to get to know her old homeland and New Eden once more. She insisted on doing all the shopping for the household, and this took her back and forth in the capital and allowed her to see what this new life was all about.

Adam had been away more than home of late; there seemed to be big doings in the capital and big plans afoot. The atmosphere was charged, but there seemed no threat to New Eden—if anything, it was the other way around— and so she dismissed it from her mind. It was a warm, pleasant day, the household was in order, and while there was always something to do this was not the day to do it. She had packed a small basket with fruit and cheese and some good local white wine, and she went out and across the street to the park and sat and waited for Suzl.

Temple Square was still a park, but they had planted a lot of nice trees and shrubs and put a large mechanical playground in the center. Now, as usual on nice days, a number of girls were there looking over hordes of kids playing, and she watched them idly. One day soon she would make use of that place. Although it didn't show as yet, she knew she was over three months pregnant.

She looked over at the temple, still the dominant struc¬ture in the town and the Anchor, its gleaming, shiny facade and seven steeples reflecting the bright colors of what she'd been brought up to believe was Heaven. New Eden knew better, knowing and teaching that it was merely a planet like World, but far larger, its massive gravity causing World to forever circle it. Light, but no heat, came from it. Where the heat did come from was still a subject for speculation, and not something that greatly concerned her. They were working on things like that in the temple now, which had become the center of New Eden's progressive scientific research: out of there had come the rural electrification, the indoor bathroom and shower, the electric polishers and even the electric oven. She still hadn't adjusted to that one, and continued to look for the wood bucket.

She stared at the steeples, and felt an eerie sensation run through her. It seemed almost as if something flowed to and from them in a steady stream, something that was indistinct but tangible. Suddenly something seemed to fo¬cus directly on her, reach out to her. . . . She gasped and shivered in the warmth, and stood straight up, but it was gone.

"Felt it too, huh?" came Suzl's voice behind her.

She turned, frowning. "It was—eerie. I could almost swear"—she paused, looking for the words—"that it was looking straight inside me."

Suzl looked at her very strangely. Finally she said, "Well, forget it for now. It's a totally gorgeous day, and I thank you for letting me get out in it."

"Huh?" Cassie was still a little disturbed by the sensation.

"If the Chief Judge's wife hadn't called for me, this little one would be slavin' in the big brain's kitchens today. Now, 'cause it's a duty day and the kids are bein' sat, I can take it easy. C'mon, doll, let's go someplace."

Cassie nodded, and the two walked back over to the big house. Although only a fraction taller than Cassie, Suzl towered over her old friend now because she wore sandals with platform soles and high heels. Although Cassie al¬most always wore shoes with very high heels, today she'd decided to go barefoot. Neither wore more than the mini¬mum amount of jewelry and brief panties, Suzl's a reddish fur and Cassie's a silvery material.

The bicycle had been around World as long as anyone could remember, but supplies of them in Anchor Logh had been quite limited, because they did not manufacture them there and had to trade for them. Still, there had been a few on the farm when they had been growing up, and Cassie had been delighted to find that she could still ride one, even after all these years, and even more delighted to find that her position allowed her access to them. She often did her shopping this way, and found it a lot of fun. They were quite common now, even among children, since Anchor Bakha had not only made them but had had a very large supply warehoused when it was conquered. A good thing, too, for she found she now could manage only a basic child's bike.