The colonel regarded it as such, entering, hat removed, then kneeling and bowing to the figure and remaining that way. Cass and Dar had already decided to follow the lead of the natives, so they did the same, wondering what happened next.
“Arise, my colonel,” said a deep, musical woman’s voice that seemed somehow distant and echo-like, and which filled the chamber. “All of you may stand.”
They did so, and faced the huge portrait. “Holy Divine One, to whom we owe everything, this humble servant begs you to hear his report,” said the colonel reverently, all trace of the pragmatic, tough soldier-wizard gone. Clearly this man was in the presence of his god.
“Proceed, my faithful servant.” Both of the newcomers kept looking around to find the source of the voice that seemed all around them, but it was impossible to discover—if, indeed, it was there. Cass remembered Matson’s description of Fluxlands. If this woman was indeed a wizard of enormous power, then she was in fact a goddess—as far as her mind could control and stabilize an area of the Flux in the image she desired. And she could make all the rules, and change or disobey them, on a mere whim.
The colonel immediately launched into his report, suddenly becoming the crisp military man once more. He obviously had enjoyed the action, and its result, and couldn’t resist reliving it with relish. Cass noticed, though, that while he told about the goat-headed giant who claimed to be one of the Seven, he did not pass on Matson’s suspicion that he was a resident of Persellus. Apparently the colonel had simply rejected it as too fantastic, for it was clear he would neither lie nor hold back from his goddess deliberately. The goddess let him talk, and waited until the account was complete. Then, she thanked, blessed, and dismissed the colonel, but ordered Cass and Dar to remain. The colonel kneeled again, then backed out of the room and closed the doors behind him. The two of them waited.
Finally she said, “The evil wizard must be tried and punished according to our holy laws, and the two of you will be required as witnesses. However, in light of the colonel’s account, we are inclined to dismiss the charges against you, Dar. The madness and evil you both willingly joined and aided is counterbalanced, it seems, by your later actions in unmasking and undoing that evil. However, the fact remains that you did take a life, and changed or jeopardized others, and that cannot be totally wiped clean. Therefore, we give you a choice, for some judgment must be rendered against you. First, are the facts that the colonel stated true and complete?”
Dar seemed nervous and a bit startled to be directly addressed by a disembodied voice and a painting, but he nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Is there anything you wish to add to that account before our choice of judgments is offered you?”
He thought a moment. “No, Ma’am.”
“If you please, merciful goddess,” Cass put in, trying not to stub her tongue. She was learning fast about the Flux. “May I intercede?”
“Continue.”
“I have known him all my life. He was one of my few good friends, and I can assure you that he is a good man deep down. Any mere human could be driven mad after the sights we’d seen and the things we had done to us, and, being both fallible and human, he finally cracked under this pressure. Even then, what he did he did out of ignorance, not an intent to aid evil, and when he was given the chance to lead evil he refused and acted for the good. He will live with the terrible torture this evil priest put him through, and its consequences, all his life. Please be merciful with him.”
“We are not unmindful of this,” the goddess responded. “Nevertheless, wrongs were done and judgment must be made. You must understand that unless these factors were present he would stand trial with the evil priest and share his fate. Still, the fact remains that you, for instance, and the rest of your party, did not fall victim to madness. A judgment must be made that will serve to remind this poor one of his own inner failings so that, if ever he reaches that point again, he will know and do the right thing.
“Dar, these are your choices. You may request a trial, which in your case would be presided over by the stringer Matson and would include random citizens, both military and civilian. We must warn you that such trials, when they occur, are held under rigid rules of law, and that the best you might expect is to be remanded to a permanent slave status with the appropriate alteration in your outlook to make you a perfect one. You do understand that, don’t you?”
He thought a minute, and thought of the goat-women and savages of the pocket. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Your other choice is to throw yourself right now on my mercy, and accept as final our decision, no matter what that might be.”
He thought a moment. “Your worship,” he said, using the form of address used for high Temple priestesses in Anchor Logh, “I’d just like to get it over with. I feel guilty as hell—beg pardon, your worship—and I’ll be mad at myself forever for being so dumb. I’ll take what you dish out here and now.”
The goddess seemed pleased. “Very well, then. What you did, you did for love of a woman. It is a very old story among humans, and the history of the human race is full of things, both wonderful and terrible, done for that reason, and for the opposite. For the love of that woman you defected to the enemy, knowing she was there. After suffering the most terrible of torments for a man, you then killed that woman, not out of anger or self-pity or revenge, but out of mercy for her own tragic state. The fact remains, though, that had you not run from the train under fire she might not have died. You will have to live with that.”
She paused for a moment, and Dar stood motionless, frozen, staring at the eerie picture. Cass felt sorry for him, but was helpless.
“It seems to us,” the goddess continued, “that through a very strange chance, the evil one has rendered an appropriate judgment on you. We therefore, by divine spell of a sort that has never been broken by any of the gods and goddesses of World, perfect and make irrevocable your present state, as constant reminder of your own deeds and as a warning if needed to you and to others. Beyond this, no other thing will be done to you for any deeds in the past, and we declare you free and independent. We further stipulate that each of you will receive our total hospitality while you are in Persellus, for so long as you both choose to be here. Dar, you may go now and wait outside, while we talk with Cass.” It was not a request.
He bowed his head slightly. “Ma’am, it’s only justice, I guess.” He did not feel happy, but he had enough sense to remember and back out of the room. Cass was now alone with the goddess.
“You are troubled by our judgment?”
“It’s pretty hard on him, I think,” she admitted. “He’s neither one thing nor the other, and he can’t be happy either way.”
“That was the idea. However, we decided to explain to you our reasoning, for will need you at least for a while. Inside him burns tremendous guilt, and with it a self-hatred. We would willingly have restored him for all the reasons you gave, but to do so without also totally remaking his mind and memories would have increased that guilt and self-hatred quickly to the point where he would kill himself. The reasons for everything he did are buried deep in his mind and his experiences, much from long before he was cast out of Anchor Logh, so to remake his mind would have been to, essentially, kill him anyway. We do not do such work for people. By making of him a hermaphrodite, oddly enough, Montagne saved his life, for then he felt punished for his own failings. He, not we, consider this appropriate punishment, and so he remains, perhaps to be useful and productive in some way. He is not without courage, only self-confidence.”
She considered it. “I don’t know much about psychology, divine one, and it seems a little mixed up to me, but I’ll take your word for it. You’re saying that only because he’s not whole can he be sane.”
“That is about it,” the goddess admitted. “Unless there is something else, you may go now.”
She thought a moment. “Except that both of us need jobs, there’s nothing, your worship.”
“You will f
ind what you need, for you have within you a Soul Rider who guards.”
That startled her. “A what?”
“A Soul Rider. Do not fear it, for there is precious little power it cannot command if need be, and it fights the forces of darkness on World. You must only be warned that it uses you in its fight, and so you can expect more danger and adventure. Making a living will be no problem. This is enough for now. You may go.”
She wanted to ask a lot more questions, particularly about this Soul Rider, but there was no way she was going to press somebody like this, particularly not now. She gave the bow and backed out the door, closing it behind her.
11
HALDAYNE
An officious-looking woman was waiting with Dar when Cass emerged from the room. Dar looked at her and said, “Well?”
She shrugged. “Tell you later, maybe. How are you doing?”
“I’m feeling a little off and my muscles ache, but I’m okay.” He turned to the woman. “This lady says she’ll see to our needs.”
“I am Gratia,” the woman introduced herself. “Please accompany me and I will show you to your hotel and give you a brief orientation.”
They followed her out of Government House and down a central street filled with small shops and cafes, most with merchandise on racks outside or a few streetfront tables. A small hotel was two blocks down on the corner, and it was clearly a hotel and nothing else. Cass delighted at some of the displayed merchandise but couldn’t help comparing what she was seeing to Anchor Logh. There was, it seemed, no equivalent of Main Street, no bars or entertainment area of any kind. The people seemed normal enough, but there was not the gaiety or spontaneity that she expected of people in a city setting. A cautious remark on the lack of some expected services brought a response from their guide.
“Our lives are lived according to the Divine Plan,” Gratia told them. “Such things as you describe are the products of evil and are not needed nor permitted here.”
They were given vouchers of some sort, pieces of paper with numbers printed on them and another unnaturally lifelike head portrait of the goddess on them, and told that this was the money of Persellus. It was difficult to accept something as flimsy and destructible as paper as money, but this was not Anchor Logh.
They were left in a small hotel room with a map of the central city, the money stake, and recommendations for some of the better cafes and shops in the area. “You may as well relax and enjoy your stay here,” Gratia said. “It is unlikely that the stringer train will be able to be here in under three days, and we have scheduled the trial for four days from now. If you have any questions about anything here or have any needs in the meantime, do not hesitate to come by my office in Government House and discuss these with me.” And, with that, she left.
Dar eyed one of the two single beds in the room and shook his head. “You know how long it’s been since I’ve slept on a real bed? I wonder if I can do it?”
Cass laughed. “Well, if you want to be homesick for the stringer train, then you can always strip and lie on the floor.”
A room both had originally taken for a closet turned out to be a bathroom, something both had never seen individually connected to a hotel room before. There was no power except wind, water, and muscle outside the capital of Anchor Logh, and when in that city both had stayed in communal quarters. It was some time before they even fully figured out how all the things worked, and marveled at hot water coming from taps without any pumping or pre-heating, and they spent some time flushing and re-flushing the toilet and trying to figure out just how it worked.
“As for me, that’s the tiniest shower I’ve ever seen but I’m going to use it,” Cass decided, stripping off her makeshift uniform. “How about you?”
Dar nodded. “I think it’s strictly one at a time in there, though. I don’t think I’d fit with anybody else. I still wish it was a tub, though. My legs are killing me and I’d like to soak them.”
He undressed, and at least part of the reason for his distress was painfully evident. There was some blood on his legs, large and hairy as they were, and it disturbed him.
Cass still found it hard to get used to the sight of him like that—a true god, huge and musclebound, looking and sounding like a man who lifted weights casually and bent steel to relax, except in that one area. And that, of course, was his problem. The big, strong he-man was going to have to have periods explained to him. It was rather clear now what the goddess meant when she said she would “perfect” what Rory Montagne had done to him.
Later, a bit cleaner, they went shopping, both picking plain, practical clothes, such as tough denim pants and simple work shirts. They also picked up toiletries and various portable packing kits for their stuff. Neither overdid it, wanting to be able to travel light if they had to. Both also picked high boots that gave good protection and support, but only Cass picked fairly high heels which gave her a little extra height. She still did not come up to his broad shoulders, but it made her feel a little more even with the world. She also selected a dark brown flat-brimmed hat with a string tie to secure it while riding, and a hand-tooled leather belt with a plain silvery oval buckle, just because she liked the look of it.
Afterward they ate at one of the recommended cafes and found the food quite good although rather plain and unvaried, except for a seeming national passion with fancy pastries. Obviously, the goddess loved fancy pastries.
After sundown, however, the whole city just plain died. There was no nightlife at all, and no real diversions. It was clear from their shopping expeditions that the people of Persellus lived for their jobs and families and did very little else recreationally. Not that they weren’t an apparently happy lot, but they seemed content with everything as it was and doing what they were doing and had no real curiosity, ambition, or even much of a competitive spirit. When looking for her belt, a leather shop had directed her to another down the street, for example.
Reading matter seemed to consist mostly of book after book of the goddess’s musings, aphorisms, ramblings, and the like, most of which was tough going and made very little sense. There appeared to be little education beyond basic skilled trades and reading and writing for business reasons. They didn’t need doctors because when they got sick or injured they just prayed to the goddess and she healed them. They didn’t need scientists or engineers, because everything worked through the goddess’s magic, even the water and electricity. Smoking, drinking, dancing, gambling, even basic entertainment like plays was forbidden, and, foul language was strongly discouraged, which made Dar realize what a gaffe he’d pulled in using the very mild “hell” in the “presence” of the goddess herself.
It was, in fact, so deadly dull a town filled with such incredibly dull people that it almost drove both of them nuts. Even the humdrum farm life of Anchor Logh was a thrill a minute compared to this place. By the end of the second day they were both so bored that they decided on the third day to rent horses and see a little of the countryside.
But the countryside, too, had the same dull sameness as the town. The only problem they had was occasional small bouts of vertigo now and then, after which something would be slightly changed. Mountains seemed a bit taller one time than another, houses seemed to grow and shrink now and then, and when they got back to town there were minor, subtle differences in the look of the buildings and even the people.
“The best guess I can make,” Cass said when they were back in their hotel room, where the furniture and fixture designs seemed very slightly different, “is that since this land is entirely the product of the goddess’s imagination, she sometimes makes little changes now and then, like redecorating a room. Or maybe it’s just that, like us, she remembers things a little differently than they really were, and, unlike us, how she remembers them is how they become.”
“Still thinking of staying here and finding a job?” Dar asked her. They had not really discussed the future.
She shook her head. “Nope. I think when Matson gets here I�
��ll ask for some suggestions and, if I can afford it, travel along with him for a little while until I find a place I can really settle. You?”
“Oh, I’ll come along, I guess. I sure can’t see somebody like me fitting in around here, that’s for sure. Oh, maybe if I joined the army or something like that, I might make do, but I could never call this home or fit into their family pattern. I don’t think she had me staying around in mind.” He sighed. “I wonder if there is a place where I’d fit in?
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’d like to know what a Soul Rider is, though. Nobody around here seems to know anything about it.”
“Maybe Matson will. He’s been around and seen everything, and he’ll be in tomorrow.”
She nodded. “None too soon, either.” She thought a moment. “You sure about coming with Matson, though? I mean, there’ll be all those Lanis, and they sure aren’t the kind of people Persellus would want.”
“I’ve licked that, I think. Look, I’m part Lani and part me. If I can’t take people who look like her, then I may as well pack it in, right?”
She couldn’t argue with it, but she hoped it was true.
They saw Matson first when they were summoned for Rory Montagne’s trial. He looked clean and relaxed, although irritated that his cigars could not legally be brought into the Fluxland proper. He looked and felt naked without one stuck in his mouth.
All of them were seated in a comfortably appointed “witness room” well stocked with cold drink and pastries while waiting to testify. They greeted Matson warmly, and he reciprocated in his usually reserved stringer fashion, but when he asked how they liked Persellus and both silently spelled out “D-U-L-L” he had to chuckle. Finally Cass got around to business. “How much for a ride with your train?”
Spirits of Flux and Anchor Page 14