our journey?"
Dorion knew well why Boday wanted to go. Early on,
she'd accidentally swallowed a powerful love potion of her
own design and the first person she'd seen after waking up
had been Sam. It was incredibly strong—it had to be, since
Boday often made references to one or another of her seven
previous husbands—and its composition was known only to
Boday. so only she could mix an antidote for it. And. natu-
rally, under the potion, the last thing she wanted was an
antidote or anyone else to slip it to her. She had even regis-
tered Sam and herself as a "married" couple in the Kingdom
of Tubikosa, where it was allowed with disdain for the conve-
nience of the authorities as a strictly legalistic means of
straightening out inheritances, powers of attorney, and other
such complexities that would otherwise tie the State up in
WAR OF THE MAELSTROM 45
knots. She certainly considered herself totally and monoga-
mously married to Sam; how Sam felt about it Dorion didn't
know, never having met that member of the trio, although
Charley had indicated that Sam was the sort who liked it just
fine.
Dorion, as a magician, could understand Boday, but ones
like Sam made him welt, uncomfortable, somehow. Boday
was not a woman attracted to women, even now; she was just
compelled by potion to be madly in love with one of them.
But somebody who, without benefit of spell or potion, was
still attracted only to members of the same sex was, well,
creepy to him. He had known only a few in his short life,
mostly men, and didn't know whether he was more disturbed
that they were that way or that the ways to change that were
available by spell and potion were rarely ever used.
"We're waiting for a report on what's ahead," Dorion told
Boday for the umptyumpth time. "From here on in there's no
choice of routes, and things are going to get tight and more
dangerous than before, and before was dangerous enough for
me."
"Koba knows you just like sitting here eating and drinking
fine food and wines and ogling all the half-naked slave girls,
some of whom might believe your tales of mighty sorcery and
battles, but you are on a mission, commanded by our true
master to bring us to him. How long do you believe that he
will like us being kept here?"
Dorion sighed. She was dead right, of course, but the
encounter with the Stormrider had unnerved him. Truth to
tell, although his brown robe marked him as Third Rank, he
really wasn't much of a wizard. His spells rarely turned out
right or did what they were supposed to do, and he did as
little as possible in that area. He also wasn't in the best
physical shape and most weapons scared him; he would hardly
have been his own choice for doing this job, and suspected
that he'd been given it because, if he died in the attempt, it
would be no great loss.
About the only reason he really was thinking of pressing on
wasn't any fear of Boolean or Yobi, but mostly Charley.
Halagar had been more an acquaintance than friend in their
youth. In point of fact, time had dimmed the old feelings he'd
had for the man, but now they were brought back full.
46 Jack L. Chalker
Halagar, in fact, was the kind of guy that boys like Dorion
had hated. Handsome, sexy, debonair, the best athlete, the
master of all he attempted, the dream of every local girl.
Hell. even though he'd tested near the bottom of the "magi-
cally talented" group, he'd gone off to his apprenticeship
mostly to get away from Halagar. '
Halagar, on the other hand, had joined the army, risen
rapidly in rank, gained position, then quit and become a
mercenary and gotten pretty rich at doing that. Now, here he
was. Imperial Courier to the King, and, worst of all, Chariey
had clearly fallen for him like a ton of bricks just like all die
other girls always did. Hell, every time she was around
Halagar she just seemed to melt away, leaving only a servile,
mooning airhead. He liked Charley for her looks, sure, and
he was as guilty as any man of looking at the pretty ones first,
but it wasn't just the looks or even the moves, no matter how
alluring they were. But he also was enormously attracted to
the Charley who, blind and helpless, when faced with the
monstrous, demonic Stormrider, had calmly figured out its
weakness and directed its destruction. It was the strength and
brains and nerve beneath the beauty that was, in fact, the
most important to him.
Sure, she was a slave and compelled to obey him. He could
have forbade her making out with Halagar and in fact com-
manded her to make love to him, but he didn't want it that
way. He was a sorcerer, at least of sorts. He knew how easy
it was for spells and potions to substitute for what was real.
To compel it was no different to him than going down to the
low-life district and buying it. His mind and heart just had no
craving for or even use for gratification like that. Magicians
above all others prized most that which was genuine and real.
It was the thing that puzzled him most about women,
particularly strong and decisive women. They all said that
they hated and detested men who treated them like sex objects
rather than people and judged women by looks alone, Charley
included—and said so often. Then they'd make real good
friends with the kind of man who saw them the way they said
they wanted to be seen and treated them accordingly—but
they'd then walk off to bed with the guy who was best-
looking and treated all women like sex objects and leave the
guy who treated them first and foremost as people, the way
47
WAR OF THE MAELSTROM
they said they wanted alt men to treat them, and who didn't
look like a god but just ordinary. And then when you asked
them why they were saying one thing to a guy and then
teaching him the other, they turned and snapped and said,
"You treat sex like it was a reward or something." Well, it
sure wasn't punishment and it was sure a pleasure, and a guy
who didn't get much sex himself sure couldn't figure why a
woman would want to go to bed with a guy who acted all
"wrong" and leave a guy alone and without sex who was
their kind of guy.
In the absence of love, sex was either a commodity or a
reward, at least to any guy he'd known. If there was any
other thing that it was, it was unfathomable to the male mind.
Women and men sure didn't think alike, that was for sure.
To him, Charley was basically sending the message that he
was a sucker for not treating her as his sex slave and to hell
with all that respect crap.
The trouble was, while he got the message, he just couldn't
bring himself to be that way. Halagar, too, had gotten the
message long ago, and he sure was never shown any reason
to change his views, either.
Still, Halagar had been vital; Dorion had to admit that,
even to himself. Were it not for the courier, his contacts, his
quick sword arm and sure shot, and his rank in Covanti, they
might not have made it this far. And now he was using the
same power to get the information they needed to complete
the journey that. like it or not, they had to complete.
He sighed and got up from the comfortable divan on which
he'd been sitting. "All right—I'll see just what's up. I know
how anxious you are to go on, but the gods know we needed
this rest."
So far he'd been pressing Halagar for news; now he sought
out others, the bureaucrats of me Court through which all
such information had to flow, to see if maybe he was being
played for a sucker in other ways. It took a little sweet-talking
and a bit of bravado and bluster, but he finally wormed out
the situation.
First was the interesting news that the dogs had been called
off of Charley. That alone was amazing, wonderful news to
him. Apparently it had happened many days earlier, and was
now common knowledge among the underworld of Covanti,
48 Jack L. Chalker
who had shifted their search to "a fat and probably veiy
pregnant girl" exclusively. This took enormous pressure off;
surely Halagar had known of this as soon as the word had
been put out. Why hadn't he told them? *
Of course, the answer was obvious. Now that there was no
longer any manhunt, or, rather, womanhunt, for Charley,
there seemed no particular reason for them to hurry on to
Boolean. They had become, very suddenly, no longer really
relevant to events. That meant that Halagar could enjoy all of
Charley's favors until he tired of them without actually affect-
ing the course of history or even events, and without getting a
big-shot sorcerer mad at him.
Of course, Dorion's reaction at the news was just the
opposite. His charge was to get the women to Boolean; now
this seemed less an impossible task than a relatively straight-
forward affair. Not even Boday was at serious risk; it was she
had the love potion, not Sam. It wasn't all that certain that
holding Boday hostage would cause Sam to do anything
dangerous or foolish—if, indeed, she even heard of it. In-
deed, now that Klittichom knew that Charley wasn't the one,
the smart thing to do would be to facilitate their journey and
do so in a manner that they would feel no reason to continue
to be secretive themselves. That Sam was still trying to reach
Boolean was a foregone conclusion; Charley and Boday,
then, became valuable travelling the same road as bait.
To have revealed this to Dorion, or even Boday, would
have meant their immediate departure.
Not that things were risk free. Covanti had mobilized some
of its reserve forces and moved most of the regular troops
from the colonies back towards the null zones. Rebellious
forces composed, incredibly, of mostly colonial races had
begun actual attacks on Akhbreed outposts and had also
begun to marshal! forces near the inner borders with the hub.
The level of coordination was amazing; hundreds of colonial
worlds, separated irrevocably by their lack of hub access to
get communications or coordination between their various
worlds still were moving as if under a unified command.
Such actions were not merely dangerous, they were unprece-
dented.
They were also inexplicable. No matter how many forces
they marshalled at the null's edge, the armies of the Akhbreed
49
WAR OF THE MAELSTROM
could always defend the nulls with superior weaponry and
in-place defenses, and even if the colonials gained a bit and
managed to cross worlds—what then? They'd be cut off from
their own supply and support, unable to blend into the new
world, and would only present an easier target for Akhbreed
forces to mop up. Without control of the hub, what they were
doing defied all sense. And they could never control the hub
so long as the Akhbreed sorcerers guarded it so well and so
effectively. It was the hub, its circular shape so perfect for
military defense and supported by the vast powers of the great
sorcerers, the heart of the Akhbreed kingdoms and of the
race's control of all the worlds of Akahlar. Without the hub,
they could be deadly, costly, even inconvenient, but they
couldn't really win anything except their own death and the
harshest repression for their worlds and peoples afterwards.
They knew this. Why other than mass insanity would they
now organize and march?
Dorion frowned. "Then is it safe, or even possible, to get
through the colonies at all?"
The bureaucrat nodded. "Oh, certainly. Their worlds need
the trade from the other worlds just as much as always. It is
their interdependence that gives us power over all of them.
They might stop or overhaul a train, but except for Mandan
cloaks and blankets and weapons, they take nothing and let
the trains continue. Most, travelling with sorcerers and under
strong military guard, get through not touched at all. I wouldn't
want to go through that kind of colonial territory on my own,
but in some of the bigger trains it's still as safe as always."
Dorion thought it over. "Yeah, until the troops and sorcer-
ers leave at the border and we cross from Covanti territory
into Tishbaal."
"Oh, this is happening all over, not just in Covanti," the
clerk assured him, sounding rather blase about the situation.
"In fact, it's worse in Tishbaal and they're thick as flies in
colonial Masalur. But they seem impossibly well disciplined,
and, while cocky and confident, they still seem to be letting
most everybody and everything through. The High Sorcerers
of all the kingdoms are in almost daily conferences over what
it all means, as are the general staffs of the armies, but, so
far, there's been no consensus. Your friend Halagar has been
arguing with the King, advocating that we go almost to a
50 fack L. Chalher
seize mode and close the borders and shut down the trade.
Right now, though, the economists agree that such an action
would harm us far more than the colonials. I would be
careful, though, my friend, if I were you. You are associated
with Boolean and many of the monarchs and sorcerers believe
that he might somehow be behind this."
"That's insane!" Dorion retorted. "He's been trying to
stop this! He saw it coming years ago and has been trying to
warn and unify everybody, and nobody would listen to him!"
The clerk sighed- "Yes, well, that's the problem, or so the
rumors I hear go. He's had a hateful rivalry with Klittichom
of Marepek for decades, and he's been trying to gain allies to
defrock or destroy—or whatever it is you wizards do to one
another—his rival ever since. Klittichom has always treated
Boolean with contempt but has never tried to get sorcerous
and political action against him. Also, Boolean has been
outspoken for years in his contempt for the Akhbreed way
and consistently a defender of colonials, as if they were
capable of governing themselves. Comparing the two's ac-
tions and words over the years, there are a lot of people who
don't like Boolean very much and who think he might be mad
enough or frustrated enough to have somehow orchestrated
this just to force them to act against Klittichom."
"But it's the other way around!"
The clerk shrugged. "Perhaps. Consider, though—the cham-
pion of colonial rights is saying that he is defending the