The wagon approached, behind a sweaty team of horses being driven hard. It was of the canvas covered type, similar to the one they were using, and looked fairly empty from the way it rocked. The lone driver looked over, spotted them, and with some difficulty slowed his four horse team and pulled off to the side of the road, a weapon in one hand and the reins in the other.
“What the hell are you all doing here?” Matson wanted to know. Then he spotted the water casks and understood. “All right—you get all my property back right now. Let’s move! That mess back there is expanding and I’ve barely been able to keep ahead of it.”
There was a cry of joy from the duggers at Matson’s arrival, and several fired shots of celebration in the air. Cass was overjoyed as well, not only by Matson’s sudden arrival but also by the return of Dar and the two girls. Matson, however, was having none of it, and quickly snapped orders to get the train in line and prepare to move out. To Cass’s attempt to welcome him he just snapped, “Why are you just standing around? You’re working for me, now! And where the hell are my cigars?”
It wasn’t until the train was formed and well on its way, with Kolada given the string lead and dispatched ahead, that Matson relaxed at all and became approachable. Cass dropped back from her point opposite Jomo at the head of the mule train until she, on her black purchased horse, rode parallel with Matson. He acknowledged her with a nod and said, “Jomo tells me you did the whole defensive setup and even thought about the water. That right?”
She nodded. “I didn’t know if you were coming back or not, but I had to act like you weren’t.”
“It was good thinking. I got out of there barely one step ahead of the new matrix and had to outrun it for four solid hours. If I’d stayed overnight like I originally intended I wouldn’t be here now. Something just told me that Haldayne couldn’t resist a stab at you, and that would flush him out, force him into a revolt.”
“I hear from Dar that he won.”
“Pretty sure he did, anyway. Bubbling, boiling, smoking—that place is turning into a real old-time view of Hell. Too bad, although it’s got to be livelier than it was under the old bag.”
She really couldn’t argue with the sentiment, although, unlike him, she also couldn’t forget the poor people whose lives, if not snuffed out, would be radically and permanently changed—and certainly not for the better.
“I brought some trade goods with me,” she told him. “Four more girls and four good horses.” At his raised eyebrows she told him the story of the encounter the night before that had saved her but precipitated the destruction of Persellus as they had known it.
“Fair enough,” he responded. “They’ll help make up for some of the ones Arden lost in the attack.”
“Not so fast! They’re not gifts, you know.”
He assumed his stoic pose, trying hard to suppress a smile and not quite succeeding. “All right. What do you think they’re worth?”
“Come on!” she chided. “You know that I’m ignorant enough of the way the system works out here that you’ll skin me in the deal no matter what. I deserve at least a little consideration.”
“Why? We’re even as far as I’m concerned. More than even, in fact, considering that you’ve gone from slave to woman of property in record time.”
“That may be, but the fact is that we—Dar and I—aren’t free just because of your kind generosity. Even if you hadn’t freed me before, you wouldn’t want anybody with a Soul Rider in your stock. I’d be a time bomb waiting to go off with any customer, and in the end you’d regret it. And, as I understand it, most of these people are not going to stay the way they are when they get delivered. They’ll be subject to the magic of the land or wizard that gets them. That makes Dar a lousy property, since he’s locked in that way until a stronger wizard than the goddess comes along, untangles her spells, and writes new ones. That reduces his value a lot, I’d say, so it was no big thing to free him, either, particularly since you get nineteen more than you bargained for. And, as you pointed out not long ago, we’re working—for free—for our ride and using our own supplies. So what do we owe you?”
The smile could no longer be suppressed. “All right. Granting that, this is still business, but don’t give me any more of that poor little innocent shit. I have this feeling that even without your damned Soul Rider you’d wind up running this train anyway if I looked away for a moment or didn’t read every little contract clause. Now, understanding that, you tell me what you want and I’ll tell you what your four slaves and four horses will buy of it.”
She thought a moment. What did she want, exactly? She had the feeling she should consult with Dar, but she decided against it. Matson would just use him to rob them both blind.
“I want freedom for as many of my friends as I can buy,” she told him. “I also want some kind of stake and passage to a place where I—we—can enjoy and earn our own livings.”
He laughed. “You want a lot for four horses and lour slaves! Now, the stake needed would depend on the place, wouldn’t it? And I don’t think you really have a particular place now, so long as you have that Soul Rider inside, anyway, and that could be for life.”
“I think I wouldn’t mind being a stringer,” she told him seriously.
“I doubt it. For one thing, you’re too soft-hearted. You start thinking of that cargo as people back there instead of just more trade goods, like horses and mules and hard goods, and you start bleeding for them. You couldn’t help it, even though none of ‘em can ever go back to Anchor and they’d all go nuts or die quickly in the Flux without a wizard looking over ‘em. Anyway, it’s a closed guild. If you aren’t born a stringer, you can’t be one. And if you tried to set up in competition, other stringers would get together and do you in. Part of the code, and good business. And we don’t have partners, just employees. Still, I agree that you’re doomed to wander. Want a job with a stringer train, then?”
She grinned. “That might be the next best thing. But I wouldn’t want a job where I had to stay out of the Fluxlands and Anchors with the mules and wagons, or where I just stayed a few hours.”
“That’s not a problem,” he responded, understanding that they were in fact negotiating. “Most duggers don’t go into Fluxlands because they don’t want to or they’re afraid they might get kidnapped or used by the powers that be. Some of ‘em are just sensitive about their looks and don’t feel comfortable outside the void. As for Anchors, I’ve had a problem the last couple of years because I didn’t have any total humans to help me with the packs going in. Had to depend on the locals, and they charge. The average layover is three days, and would have been back there if things didn’t feel funny and if I didn’t have this big human cargo to deliver down the line, eating me broke the longer I have that many on my hands.”
She nodded. “Fine. So the Anchors allow only people they consider as human as they are inside, and you need humans. I’m human. I don’t know whether Dar would pass their inspection, though.”
“Probably. They’re not as fussy so long as you look normal. They have the mental image of diggers as you know them. He, or she, or whatever it is, would have to be careful that nobody found out that secret, though. Anchorfolk are so damned scared of anything different that a mob would tear him to bits and get a medal for it. You should know that.”
She nodded. “I think he’d take that risk. I assume we work for expenses in the various places.”
“Expenses, hell! You get a salary on account. Anything you spend anyplace you get deducted. Anything left over at the end of each circuit, which is most of a year, you get credited to a stringer account. If you live long enough, don’t get fired, and keep your costs down you can retire to the Fluxland of your choice someday. Or sucker some friendly wizard into making the pocket of your dreams, which is what most of ‘em do.”
“So there are some friendly wizards. I’d begun to wonder. Seriously, though—how many duggers that you know of ever lived long enough to retire?”
&nbs
p; He shrugged. “Well, none personally …”
“Uh huh. It’s a deal.”
He laughed. “Impulsive, aren’t you? You decided on this first thing, didn’t you?”
“Well, I admit I had it in mind. I wasn’t sure whether you wanted to travel with a Soul Rider, though.”
“That’s more serious than you think. But there are pluses with the minuses on that. Potentially you’re stronger than any wizard, although it’s useful only in defense, I hear. That’s fine. What protects you protects the train. Of course, you’re a magnet for trouble, but out here I’m not sure I could tell the difference anyway. At least your Rider’s concern is also mine now, so maybe we’ll work together to get rid of that and it’ll be done with you.”
She looked at him with interest. “Then you’re going to report this?”
“Honey, I’m going to do at least that. Haldayne’s bad for business right where he is, at the intersection of three good routes. He ordered an attack on, and was responsible for, a massacre of a stringer train, so nobody’s safe until he’s eliminated. As soon as we unload as much as we can in Globbus, not to mention alerting them there so the route from this side can be closed, we’re heading for Pericles. Not the whole train—I’ll just have to eat expenses on what I can’t unload, although I’m going to take some merchandise with me to Pericles because I think there might be a market for it.”
“What’s this Pericles?”
“The home of one of the oldest, battiest, most degenerate and powerful wizards on all of World— and, incidentally, the dean of the current Nine Who Guard.”
She gasped. “So there is a Nine! But—what do you mean by ‘current’?”
“Nobody lives forever, even out here. I think the old boy told me once that his grandmother was one of the originals. He’s barely, he says, six hundred years old.”
“Six hun—oh, my! Do you think he’s really that old?”
“Could be. But he’s the strongest of the Nine, and therefore the only one publicly known. If he’s been around that long, and known for at least a hundred years, then he must be one hell of a wizard because that makes him automatically one hell of a target.” He sighed. “Well, I guess that concludes our business. See if your friend wants to go along or what, but the job’s open either way.”
“We haven’t settled anything,” she responded. “I just got hired, that’s all. I still want some of my friends free.”
He sighed. “You need an advance, so the four horses will take care of that for two of you. But what if I freed four of your friends in an even trade? They’d have no jobs, no defenses, no place to go, and I’m not about to hire on six new hands, none of whom can even shoot. All you’d do is kill ‘em for sure, or give them to Globbus or someplace else for free. In the Fluxlands, everybody’s either owned, if they have no Flux power, or employed if they do. If any of that lot had much power we’d have seen it by now.”
She hated to admit it to herself, but she had to agree that he was right. It was very easy to say “You are free!” and feel good about it, but they would be free in a land where they would be at the mercy of just about everyone and powerless to prevent slavery at no gain to themselves or anyone else, and no input by anyone into how and where they would be used. If she could free them to return to Anchor that would be one thing, but even she would only be a visitor in that realm now, there at the sufferance of authorities and on a limited permit. “Well, there are three I’d like to free, anyway.”
“Nope. Two is tops. I can’t handle any more. After that the cost becomes counter-productive. The only reason I can handle four of you is that I’m sure one or two of you will screw up and never return from one place or another, at least in any usable form. And those two will work strictly for the value of the other two slaves we sell until they exhaust their accounts. Then we’ll see if they are worth keeping or if they’re fired. No other guarantees, no other deals than that.”
“Mister generosity.”
“I’m not generous. I’m your boss. And I’ll fire your ass and that of our musclebound friend if I’m the least bit unhappy. No more lip, take it or leave it.”
“I’ll talk to Dar when we stop and then let you know,” she told him. “How far to Globbus?”
“Oh, it’s about sixty kilometers from here. We average a little better than twenty kilometers a day, so that’s three days. Closer than Persellus is to Anchor Logh by a fair amount. In fact, it’s about the same distance to Anchor Logh from Globbus or Persellus—I had to go out of my way to do some business that, damn it, will probably never get done now.”
That “night,” as train time was measured in the void, Cass put the proposition to Dar, who seemed interested although unhappy that they didn’t get more. “You really want to be a dugger,” he told her, “and I can’t see any other place I’d fit in. Hell, anyplace else I’m a freak, but out here I’m normal compared to most of ‘em.”
She nodded. “That’s what I figured. Now comes the hard part, though. Which two?”
He didn’t even have to think. “Suzl and Nadya, of course.”
“Not Ivon?”
He chuckled dryly. “That bigmouth was hiding behind a wagon while you girls were reloading rifles in the fight. He’s also still scared to death of the duggers. I like him, but for all his muscles he’d never fit in around here. I think the two girls will.”
She had to agree, but found it surprising they agreed so readily on both choices. “You three spent an awfully long time getting the water. We just about gave you up for dead. Something I should know about now?”
He sighed. “Aw, hell. We took a three-way roll in the grass, Cass, if you must know.”
“But—”
“Hey! If the Sister General can do it, why not us? Besides, I can’t help it. I still like girls. And what man is going to give me a tumble even if I was willing to do it? Jomo?”
She didn’t argue that point, although she suspected that there were some men who’d be delighted with him the way he was. Considering the people she’d already seen in Anchor as well as Flux, that would be a minor oddity hardly worth noting. “What I mean is, I didn’t really think that those two were that way.”
He chuckled. “They never tried the other way, but they were willing. Then they—found out.”
She was fascinated. “What about—you? How do you feel about it?”
He grew very serious. “It was really kind of funny. Until now I been real tight about the first time it would happen, but I knew it had to happen. Now, hell, it’s like I’m free, a whole new person. I got lucky, that’s all. Most folks would have turned away, or treated me like I had some deathly disease, or something, but they didn’t. Funny, too—those shots must have worn off, ‘cause they got real turned on, if you know what I mean.” He paused and looked suddenly concerned. “This doesn’t poison them for you, does it?”
She shook her head. “Of course not. In fact, it says something about them that they accepted you as you were. It means they’ll fit in this crazy setup. Let’s call them over.”
The two girls were delighted at the news, but distressed that they were to be the only ones. “It makes us feel so guilty,” Suzl told them.
“I told Cass about back at the river,” Dar told them.
Both looked slightly embarrassed. “Is that what it is, then? Because we …” Nadya said finally, her voice dropping off. “But we didn’t intend to. It just sort of built up in me the longer we were in that place.”
“Me, too,” Suzl agreed. “Stronger than I ever felt before, and it didn’t matter who or what. I’m just glad Dar was there. If I was alone and feeling like that I’d have screwed a horse if one came up. Nothing personal, Dar.”
He nodded. “That’s funny, though. I felt it, too. Still do. I just put it down to the shots wearing off.”
Nadya shook her head. “Nope. None of the others have it. It was something in the air, I guess.”
Cass thought it over. “Something in the air…. Maybe part of Ha
ldayne’s new world that was strong enough to seep through. Who knows what urges somebody like that has, or what sort of thing he likes? If the goddess could absentmindedly rearrange a couple of mountains because it slipped her mind how they were and she liked them better that way, then his own ideas might change things as well, even without him consciously willing it. Maybe emotions run stronger than will, or at least ahead. It would make sense.”
“A whole land run like Roaring Mountain’s pocket,” Dar said, and shivered a bit.
Cass got back to business. “Don’t feel that was the reason. At least, not the only one in either of our cases. I picked you two before I knew. You’re both farmgirls, you know how to ride, and you’re adaptable. Look at most of them back there. Still mostly dead inside, just waiting for the ax to fall. That’s what sets the four of us apart—we accepted what was and went from there. They are probably better off where they’re going if they can’t go home. We’re going to beat this system, and maybe have some fun doing it.”
She went forward and told Matson of their decision and their choices. He was surprised only at one thing. “No men, huh? Didn’t pick out anyone for yourself?”
She shook her head. “No. I gather by that comment, though, that you knew about them.”
He grinned. “I could hardly avoid noticing. For the record, those two are the best of a mediocre lot, I think, from past judgments. They may work out, although they’ll have to watch themselves in the Fluxlands—and Anchors, too, if they get into any. Attractive humans, male and female, have a habit of disappearing there. In either case I’m dealing with a wizard who has more power in his little linger than I have in my whole body or with a church with absolute control of a large population of ignorant idiots, which means it would cost me too damned much to get help and I have no real pressure. There are other stringers if I become a problem. No, I’m satisfied. Dress up the train a bit. We’ll get them presentable in Globbus.” He paused. “But what about you? If you want to blow the account, you could get some hair and maybe remake yourself if you wanted to.”
Spirits of Flux and Anchor Page 17