05. Children of Flux and Anchor (9 page)

"The whore spell? I know the raider called their leader Ayesha the Whore, but I didn't think that meant anything specific."

"Oh, yeah, it sure does. It's a punishment spell, always doled out to men, for conviction of certain offenses. In civilian life, that means rape or incest with a daughter or something like that. She's military. That means a conviction for desertion, cowardice in battle, or treason."

"You mean—this Ayesha was once a
man
?"

"Yep. From the old days, since we know Borg took his unit's whore with him when he fled into Flux and it's almost certainly the same one. Must have been in Flux for some reason when the master program was reconfigured. There's some like that. She's under a lot of extra handicaps, and the whole program means she's always turned on and sex is like a drug to her. That's why she keeps old Borg around and won't permit any other men to get close. This is somebody who's real, real dangerous. She could be as dangerous as Coydt, and a hell of a lot harder to get close to. . . ."

The next morning he
was
able to call through, but he wasn't sure just how much was believed or passed on. The security clerk was very officious and bureaucratic, didn't like Fluxlanders much and trusted them even less, and could hardly take seriously an attack by a bunch of mere women. Matson became exasperated at trying to pound the danger into his thick skull over a less-than-excellent connection.

"Listen, we'll take your warning under advisement, I assure you," the clerk told him, obviously anxious to terminate the conversation. "Even if it's true, they'll not get out once they start something. There are two thousand policemen here, hundreds of security personnel, and along the border there are three divisions of troops."

Matson switched off and swore for several minutes. Finally he said, "That litany of power was the last straw. As if anybody capable of infiltrating a large armed force right into a district capital city wouldn't know that as well!

Hell—
six
divisions and an enormous, thick wall that surrounded the place couldn't keep people from coming in or going out when it was just the size of an Anchor!"

"We've done more than anyone could ask us to do for them," Rondell pointed out. "Let's just eat something and get on the road. About all we can do now is make our own way there and find out when we get there what they were up to. I gotta admit, I
am
a little curious." He stopped for a moment, struck by a sudden horrible thought. "You don't think it's just revenge, do you? Blowing up the carnival or something like that?"

"Uh uh. Oh, I wouldn't put it past 'em to come up with a hell of a diversion, but that's not what they're after. As you say, nothing more we can do about it. I admit to being kinda curious myself, though."

The carnival was gigantic, grandiose, wondrous—and the most miserable experience in Suzl's recent life.

Vishnar was the same, cheerful fellow as before, but she did notice a change almost from the start in his manner. Before, she'd been almost his equal; now he was treating her more like a high-rank Fluxgirl, talking down to her and also being pretty forward with his hands and other sexual gestures. In fact, when they got to the carnival and got to the dignitaries and official opening, he seemed to go out of his way to show her off while making sure she knew her place.

The kids were there, of course, all starry-eyed and full of fun and energy, but she found that there was a Vishnar household Fluxgirl for each one. A chance comment from Micah, the oldest boy, told her that there had originally been just two, and they had been different Fluxgirls. They'd been called unexpectedly back to the house for something. Micah didn't mind having his own Fluxgirl at his beck and call as well as for his guide. He was getting to be the age where hormones outweighed upbringing. He was not, unfortunately, in a mood or at a level of maturity where subtle signals that she had to talk to him registered. She tried with bravado to dismiss the attending Fluxgirls but they wouldn't
hear
of it, and their servile and deferential manner did not conceal their eyes. They knew why they were there, and they knew she knew as well.

As she began to tour the carnival with them and ride the various rides, some of which really were enormous and scary to boot, and play the midway games, she began to see openings where she could get messages across but she did not take advantage of them. For a secret like this, still at the stage where powerful outside forces might be able to nip it in the bud, they would not hesitate to do some harm to the children as well. Accidents, after all, did happen. She thought about trying to slip a message to some of the carnival people, all of whom were Fluxlanders connected to the stringers, but even if she managed, and nothing went wrong, she meant nothing to them, and they had orders to not interfere in New Eden in any way. It would surely go to the local stringer officer, who might or might not act on it, and if it were discovered by New Eden's internal security it could just as easily wind up getting a lot more people dragged down. The stringers wanted the carnival reestablished for their own reasons. They would hardly jeopardize a big project for one stranger who wasn't even a member of the Guild.

If it were just herself at stake, it wouldn't be worth any risks, but she could not shake her dark vision: The whole of World, Flux and Anchor, a gigantic New Eden. All the women, including her daughters, granddaughters, and the rest, reduced to servility and chattel slavery and held there, perhaps forever, by the old methods—Flux power, broadcast Flux power, maintaining the rigid New Eden dream against all possibility of breaking it.

Vishnar rejoined them at dusk for the fireworks. The kids were all already near exhaustion, and Suzl wasn't that great, either, from the nervous tension she'd been under.

At the end, the judge said, "Suzl, there's someone you just
have
to meet. I know you're tired but it won't take long. The kids are all done in, though. Why not send them back and we'll see they get tucked in tight."

"I really should go back with them," she responded, concerned.

"Oh, I must
insist,
my dear. Come, come."

"All right—let me just say good-night to them."

She went over, and as she gave Micah a big hug, she whispered, "I'm in trouble. Tell Ryan." He hugged her back and gave no sign amidst the noise that he'd heard her. She did it again with the next oldest, Robby, but he yawned and frowned and just nodded, "Uh huh." The other three she was a bit more public with, and said just the usual good-night things. Nobody seemed to have noticed. She felt bad putting them in potential jeopardy that way, but the stakes were just too high.

Still, she was certain the early whispers hadn't been noticed, or at least been made out by the others. A more troublesome worry was that neither boy had heard or understood.

Vishnar didn't want a scene with the crowds leaving, but he took her by the hand and led her back to one of the V.I.P. tents. There two leather-clad men with the lightning insignia on their right armbands were waiting for her.

"I think you know what this is about," Vishnar said to her, sounding really apologetic. "It's my fault and I feel guilty over it."

She just nodded and allowed herself to be led away.

They took her in silence in a closed coach down to the headquarters of internal security, a blocky, dull-looking building just off the old temple square. She couldn't help but think how ironic it was that she had once wielded absolute power over this and a quarter of New Eden from a spot probably no more than five hundred meters from where they were bringing her.

They bypassed check-in and took her to a small holding cell below ground level. She took a chair, and was left alone, but only for a minute or so. Then another man entered, a young-looking man, as trim and athletic as most of them looked, with dark brown hair and a matching, short-cropped moustache. He carried a thick file folder with him.

"My name is Major Verdugo," he said, taking another chair and seeming rather casual. "I'm sorry that this problem has come up—really sorry, considering your background and the trouble we've had to go through so far—but it's unavoidable. I'm afraid we spend a fair amount of our time covering up the judge's slips. If it wasn't for the fact that he really can manage to assemble groups who can produce results like what you saw today he'd have been nicely retired long ago."

"You'll understand if I don't sympathize with you," she responded cooly.

He shrugged and opened the folder. "These aren't all your records. We'd have several thick books if we had
them
all here. We've been going through here trying to figure out an easy way for everyone, including you, in all this."

"How considerate," she said sarcastically, knowing that the man meant exactly what he was saying.

"Let's not mince words. We've done a pretty thorough psychological profile on you, and we'll cut the kidding. You were a Fluxgirl here in the old days, long before I was born. You left, understandably, when your turn at Guardian was done, but you left still looking that way. You were a strong wizard, yet when you visited Yahbar Ranch sixteen years ago you hadn't even erased your serial number. In fact, you've barely physically changed at all, not even at home in Flux from our reports."

That startled her. They kept dossiers on people, and even updated their information, when those people were in Flux?

"You've been a Fluxgirl, not counting the past fifty years, longer than I've been alive," he noted. "When you went out there again after all that time, you couldn't shake the conditioning. You went dugger and froze yourself. We know it and you know it. That really makes it easy. You
belong
here."

"No," she told him firmly. "I guess maybe that was the real reason for this trip. I wanted to see if I did anymore, but I don't. Just today, for the first time, I really saw what I'd been like all those years as an outsider, an observer. I'm
old.
I've been too many places, know too many things. I'm a
woman
."

"We can take care of that. We've learned a lot since you left. A whole lot. We have devices now called Flux chambers, although they aren't really that at all. They're miniature programming centers, such as ones that were once inside that headquarters building. As you know, the Fluxgirl program was a module that Coydt van Haas discovered. We've got it down so well we can personalize it. It's amazing just how much of what and who we are is biochemical. Skills, talents, intelligence level, memory speed and access level, comprehension,
desire
to comprehend, love, lust, and all the rest. We really have documented that there are differences in the way men and women think based on these chemicals and the different balances in the bodies of the two sexes."

"There may be differences, but I don't know anyone who proved one way is superior to the other," she argued.

"As you know, we don't look at it that way. Different is sufficient to prove our case. Now, in the past we couldn't use this technique on individuals with Flux power because a wizard could turn the power against us. Not here. Makes no difference how much power you have— the process is strictly one-way. In your case we need only accelerate the process that's already begun in you. You will fit. You will
want
to stay. In fact, there will be no alternative but to stay when the process is complete. You would be helpless on your own. Then you can tell this with absolute conviction to your son and Mr. Ryan. Your family already knows of your problem. They won't be happy with it, but they'll accept it."

She started to object, but couldn't. Unless her message got through in time, there was nothing wrong with the plan. Sondra and Jeff, in fact, had been afraid that this was exactly what she intended to do.

"Why fight it?" he asked her. "You'll be happy. You were happy before, even if you won't admit it to yourself. And you'll be important, the most important woman in all New Eden. Every big shot here will court the former wife of the Prophet. You'll be a social leader, fashion leader, have every luxury."

"If it's so wonderful why aren't I anxious?" she muttered aloud. "And if it's so cut-and-dried, why tell me any of this? Why not just do it and be done with it?"

"Because we don't want you
our
way, we want you
your
way. We can program the modules and do it to our design, but it really wouldn't be you. If you voluntarily let it happen, just let the spells and tendencies inside you dominate without a fight, you'll be the way
you
want. Best for you, best for us, best for everyone."

She sighed. "That's my only choice?"

"I'm afraid so. I—" At that moment, the lights flickered, then went out, then came on again, but weakly. "What the hell . . . ?" Suddenly there were voices shouting all over the place.

Suzl had a momentary thought to take advantage of the darkness—what did she have to lose?—but it was absolutely black, and before she could do more than get up some of the lights came back on, low and flickering.

The door opened and a man stuck his head in.
"The carnival's on fire!"
he shouted.

"The
hell
you say!" Verdugo responded, and was on his feet in a moment. "You remember we have five young hostages up at the judge's estate!" he growled at her. "You stay here or somebody will pay!" And then he joined the mob running down the corridor.

Incredulous, Suzl found herself totally forgotten. She got up, went to the door, and peered out. There were shouting men above, but no one seemed to be on this level. She made her way nervously upstairs, past an unlocked gate and an unattended guard position, to the first floor, where there were quite a number of men, all on phones or looking over charts. None of them were paying the slightest attention to her.

There was a sudden series of explosions, well away from the center of town but strong enough to shake the building a little, and the lights went out again—not only in the security center, but outside as well. By the time somebody made it to the emergency backup generator downstairs in the dark and managed to start it, bringing on the emergency lights, she was out the front door.