Chaining the Lady (19 page)

Sometimes magnetism could be transferred by proximity, a little like sympathetic vibrations in music, or companion analogies in Tarot. This metal–

She tore into the nearest carton with her inadequate human hands. It was filled with slender metal rods. She drew one out. It was imprintable material, all right; she could feel the partial channelization of her aura in its vicinity. Ideal for her purpose.

She held the rod by its ends and concentrated. More of her aura passed through it, aligning the molecular structure. It was not much, for an aura was a very diffuse thing, even one as intense as hers. But even the barest smell of her aura might deceive the magnet. It was certainly worth the try.

She set the rod down and took out another. As she held it and concentrated, she explored other facets of the problem. Because the magnets oriented on an aspect of aura, and aura did not extend from from the host, the creatures could not be able to perceive her from very far away. In fact, beyond a certain distance, she should be able to see the magnets far better than they could perceive her.

The trouble was the halls were metal, and narrow. A magnet could shoot the full length, and if Melody were anywhere in that hall, there was no way she could escape detection and destruction. Perhaps they had been designed with just this sort of thing in mind. The magnets could cruise up and down with such velocity that she was bound to be caught. So her long-distance vision would not help her much, unless she happened to be at an intersection and could get far enough out of the magnet's path before it passed. Even then, it was a deadly gamble, for the thing might turn into the new passage. Or two magnets might approach, one in each passage.

But her charged rods might give her the chance she needed. The magnet could be confused.

Her life depended in it. “Lord God of Hosts,” she breathed, “be with us yet.”

“Is it safe to come out now?” Yael inquired.

Melody jumped. “I forgot all about you, child! Did you enjoy the action?”

“No,” Yael admitted. “When the shooting started, and I saw that it was all-the-way real, I was so scared I just—hid. I never thought adventure would be like this.”

“I was afraid it would be like this,” Melody said. “I really didn't have much time to get scared, but I'm terrified now.”

“That's
my
terror you feel!”

Oh? That was possible, Melody realized. “Unfortunately, there is more coming. We may not survive.”

“I thought I liked adventure,” Yael said. “But when I saw what a heel that captain really was, and that magnet–”

Heel: a Solarian portion of anatomy, back of the foot or of the shoe covering that foot. That portion whose weight would fall on whatever was below. Implication: the man's whole personality resembled the crushing force of such stepping-on, and an attitude heedless of the sensitivities of others. One who used and deceived others without regret.

“The Captain's not a heel,” Melody said. “He is fascinated by your body and my aura, but he is the dedicated agent of a hostile power. His personal interest conflicts with his duty. He tried to bring them into alignment, and failed, so now the stronger loyalty governs.”

“Heel,” Yael repeated firmly, though her mood had changed.

“To do otherwise would make him a traitor to his galaxy.”

“Heel!” Yael said again. “Not him, now.
You.
”

Melody almost dropped the rod. “
Me
?”

“
You
don't love him. You analyze him without caring. You made him make love to
me
thinking it was
you.
You took his gift of the Tarot cube, but you didn't give anything back. You wouldn't go with him when he asked you. You let Skot and Llume sacrifice themselves. You wouldn't even save our segment–”

Yael halted. She was crying, and the tears coursed down Melody's cheeks. Where was the truth?

Melody
had
been sorely tempted by Dash's offer; but a combination of factors had balked her acceptance. Not least among them was the horror of accepting reprieve for her segment at the price of the rest of her galaxy. She thought she had done right, but she wasn't
sure.
And how could she expect Yael to comprehend the complex weighing of values that was involved? Sometimes a principle, such as the greater good for the greater number, required the painful sacrifice of purely personal considerations.

She took a new rod. It resembled a wand, as in the Tarot Suit of Energy. That suit suggested life and work, while the Ten of Wands signified oppression. But this was not the tenth rod; she was dissembling. This was the fifth rod, and it signified competition and strife. How fitting.

“Oh,
damn
your Tarot!” Yael cried. “Don't you have any feelings for
yourself
?”

Suddenly, surprising herself, Melody told her: “My personal feelings died in Sphere Mintaka when I was your age. Now I am and old neuter. I cannot love an alien male; it would destroy me.”

Yael was silent.

“We don't have genders in Mintaka. We reproduce by budding; any two entities joining to form the new shoot. Our sexual identity is only a convention, a convenience in dealing with the spheres whose creatures don't comprehend our changeability. As young entities we are neuter; as mature ones we are female until we first bud. Thereafter we are male, to one degree or another. I—lost my prospective mate, and chose never to give up my status for a lesser entity. So I am, in your terms, and old maid. Or as we put it in my culture, I have nine feet.”

“I don't see how–”

“Don't you understand, girl? Your female nature is protected for the duration of your life; you will always be as you are now, only older. If I made now, not only would I be false to my lost lose,
I would become a male
.”

“God of Hosts!” Yael cried, appalled. “I can't believe that—but I feel its truth in your mind. You can't–”

“I can't
love
,” Melody finished simply. Temporarily numbed by her confession, she took up the sixth rod.

Now Yael was contrite. “I'm sorry. I–”

“You didn't know. I should not have told you. I know the concept disgusts you.”

“I mean about the—the heel business. I'm frightened and mixed up and I didn't really mean it. I really like March better that the Captain, even if he weren't Andromedan, and–”

March—the crewman they had met on the shuttle coming in. low Kirlian, low rank, an exile of some sort new to space, pretty much an average Solarian. Of such stuff was a girl like Yael's ambition fashioned. Where was he now?

Yet Yael had not responded to the sex-change matter. That was answer enough. The concept
did
disgust her.

* * *

Armed with the six rods, Melody moved out. She headed directly for the nearest barrier. Since chance would probably determine her interception by the magnet, her best strategy was to minimize her exposure.

But just in case: She set the first rod at the entrance to the storeroom. “Ace of Wands, the beginning,” she murmured to Yael. “If Slammer passes this way, he may think I'm in this room.”

She walked rapidly down the hall, trying to keep her progress silent. Her shoes insisted on clattering. She stopped, drew them off, and tucked them into the crook of her left arm along with the five remaining rods. Now she could move quietly.

She turned a corner—and almost ran into Hath of Conquest, the first Solarian officer she had interviewed via Tarot, and found him to be Hath of *.

Melody tried to bluff, hoping the man had not yet learned about the events in the Captain's office. She was still wearing her provocative clothing, fortunately. She made a little forward bow, exposing her cleavage. “Good day, sir.”

Hath hesitated. Then his hand shot out to grasp her arm. “Yael of Aura, come with me.”

He knew!
Melody had one arm taken with the rods and shoes, the other captive to his strong hand. She felt helpless. She tilted back her head to look at his face.

And remembered the weapon the imperial Outworld authorities had given her. Two tubes set within her nostrils, positioned so as not to interfere with normal breathing. She had forgotten them entirely during the fracas at the Captain's office. Some presence of mind
she
had under pressure! All she had to do was wrinkle her nose and snort a gust of air, activating the mechanism.

No! Beneath the alien presence was the real Hath, the involuntary host. She could not bring herself to destroy that captive, and she could not kill the Andromedan without also killing the Solarian. Maybe that was what had blocked off her memory when the Captain exposed his sphere identity, though by now he might be dead anyway. Skot might be dead. Or both. All the skills and knowledge that had so impressed her. The real Captain might be the entity she could love, if she ever could allow it.

No, that was untrue. It was the Andromedan Dash who fascinated her, forbidden as that was. He knew Tarot and he had a charisma that the mere Solarian entity could never match; she was perversely certain of that. It was Dash of Andromeda who had professed his love for her. Why should he have done that, had it not been true? Could she be certain that he had intended to order her death? Maybe he had been about to order Slammer to “Keep Yael from leaving.” She knew now that she never could have hurt him, though her galaxy hung in the balance.

Yael's charge against her had been false. Far better had it been true, for Melody had been on the verge of betraying her galaxy for purely personal reasons. Only her Mintakan nature had prevented it. No credit to her for her loyalty.

But now she was captive, or virtually so. She had been so preoccupied by the threat of the magnet that she had forgotten the threat of the hostages themselves.

Her thoughts had moved explosively; it had been only a moment. “Yael—do you know how to fight?”

“Are you kidding?” Yael replied tremulously. “
All
backvine farmers can fight. And their kids too. Or they don't grow up alive.”

“Then take over.” Melody let her control slide.

“Gee, thanks!” Yael said sarcastically. “You sure called my bluff. But I remember when a man grabbed me like this, once, and I–”

Yael's head dropped down, then rammed forward into Hath's stomach. The air whooshed out of the man, and he fell back, gasping, letting go of the arm. Yael stiffened that freed hand and sliced it into the side of his throat. He slumped against the wall, trying to grab her around the waist. Her dress began to tear. Yael shifted her weight so as to bring up her knee.

“No!” Melody cried, fathoming the girl's intent and diving to thwart it. “You'll kill him! For the knee would have smashed into the man's face and perhaps split his head against the metal well.

“Near killed that other man,” Yael said. “That was one time I didn't get punished, 'cause they were saving me for sex.”

Melody took over and ran down the hall. She still held her rods and shoes. “You certainly do know how to fight! But we won't catch another hostage by surprise.”

“We won't need to. There's the wooden tunnel.”

They had made it! Slammer could not follow. Her nose-weapon would deactivate the magnet guard (maybe) and she would transfer to imperial Outworld before the hostages knew she was gone. Then Segment Etamin could act.

She paused. How could they act? Most of the offensive might of the segment was right here in this fleet. Andromeda had evidently concentrated here, knowing that the ships could dominate the worlds of the segment. Probably the same thing was going on in every segment of the galaxy. Control the fleets, and through them the Imperial worlds, and through those the vassal-spheres. What an efficient way to maximize the effect of comparatively few hostages!

Once the fleets were captive, the planets hardly mattered. In fact, they could be virtually ignored. The Andromedan technicians would set up their energy-robbing mechanisms and start draining the galaxy, and the planets would simply disintegrate along with their suns. Or whatever it was that happened. Melody was no energy expert, but did know that life in the galaxy would be wiped out long before significant deterioration of matter occurred.

The real battle was right here. If she gave up this ship, she might as well give up the galaxy.

She turned about. “Hey!” Yael protested.

“I can't transfer out,” Melody said. “It would leave you helpless before the hostages.”

“I never thought of that! This isn't mattermission; I can't go with you. I'm stuck here on this ship.”

“That's right. We have to make our fight right here.”

“But we
can't
! We'll just get killed!”

“You fought pretty well a moment ago.”

“That's not the same. When a man grabs me, I know what to do, one way or another. But in a long-range campaign I'd be helpless.”

Probably an accurate assessment. But Melody put the best face on it. “Not if we work together. We'll capture the hostages one by one, and transfer
them
out. Then we'll have the real officers back again. The more we do, the more help we'll have, until we can recapture the ship.”

“Yes! Let's go drag Hath to the transfer unit and–”

“I think it would be better to start with the Captain,” Melody said. “After we do it once, the other hostages will know what we are up to. If we begin at the top, he can order the others to the unit before they catch on.”

“Besides which,” Yael said in that wise way of hers, “you're worried about the Captain. You don't want him hurt.”

“I will do what is necessary!” Melody snapped.

They turned a corner. There at the far end of the hall hovered a magnet.

A thrill of terror ran through Melody, and she was sure it wasn't all her host's emotion. She set the second rod in the intersection and hurried on down the right-angle passage.

“All hands!” the ship's wall speakers blared suddenly. “Be on alert for Solarian female Yael of Dragon. She is an aura agent who attacked the Captain. She is dangerous; do not attempt to capture her physically. Merely advise her locations; the magnets will rendezvous.”