Masters of Flux & Anchor

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Masters of Flux & Anchor Page 9

by Jack L. Chalker


  She went down the hall, went to the bathroom—she was doing that a lot lately—then showered. She dried herself off and, as always, looked at herself in the full-length mirror.

  Unlike a lot of the girls, her body had adjusted as the baby had grown inside her. She ate a lot more, including some funny things that tasted good now but didn’t sound right together, but she still felt well. Although only into her eighth month, her tummy bulged, because she was so tiny and the baby was so big, she guessed. Still, she seemed to find a lot of extra energy when most girls said they were tired, and she still looked real sexy, and her balance was fine. She liked the fact that her breasts had swelled, and the nipples were so sensitive that almost anything brushing against them gave her a chill. That was why, even though some fashions were now permitted top to bottom, she was going to stick to the old wardrobe.

  She felt normal, right, and happy. She was vaguely aware that once she had been miserable and unhappy, although she couldn’t remember why and didn’t want to. but that only made things all the more perfect now. She wouldn’t change a thing.

  She went through her early morning routine pretty much without thinking, usually just humming or whistling some little tune she’d heard someplace and doing what had to be done. Girls didn’t have to think. That’s one reason she was glad she was a girl and not a man. Girls got to dress up and look pretty and sexy and make out and make babies and all the good stuff. She sometimes felt sorry for the men. They had to work all day and worry about all sorts of things and have no fun at all. The only fun they got was out of one part of their body and if they jerked off they made a mess.

  Suzl arrived in time for breakfast in the kitchen, taking off a full-length fur coat and revealing that she was wearing nothing under it but fur-lined soft boots. Cassie had on some cute little slippers to warm her cold feet, but otherwise was similarly undressed. It was chilly outside, but there wasn’t much in the wardrobe for anybody with their tummies. Later on, before the company came, they’d have to dress, but it hardly seemed worth it now. They tried to hug and bumped their swollen bellies and laughed and giggled and went in to breakfast.

  “Ready for t’night?” Suzl asked her.

  “Is the girl kiddin’? The whole place needs a clean and scrub, and the dinner must be cooked.” It was the sole and only important thing in her life or mind, then or that day.

  They did the dishes, and shortly were at work. The rest of the staff arrived one by one from various routine duties and pitched in, and later on two of Suzl’s daughters arrived: Tandy, who was seven or eight—Suzl couldn’t remember—and Christy, who was ten or so and was approaching the age of maturity. Already she had incipient breasts and was wearing heels and jewelry and makeup, and the younger one, imitating big sister and Mommie, had at least given it an honest try.

  The girls all joyfully scrubbed and cleaned and polished and giggled and played silly games as they worked, Cassie and Suzl right along with the rest of them, and when they were through the place was absolutely spotless, and they surveyed and inspected their work with pride.

  As was tradition, another small group composed of the wives of the evening’s guests cooked and prepared the food, and set the tables. Many by now were accomplished chefs, although they couldn’t read a recipe.

  Satisfied, and with the hour growing late, the staff took over the final preparation as the wives all scurried back home to shower and make up and dress. Cassie went upstairs and pulled out the silver mesh garment she’d been married in. After showering and making up all over again, she put it on, covered herself in her most lavish jewelry—even adding a tiara that Adam had given her not long before—and found some silvery sandals with eight centimeter heels, some nice perfume, and, as an afterthought, some extra-long lashes. She studied herself in the mirror, and decided that she was stunningly gorgeous. She even liked the way her usually firm breasts rocked as she walked and sagged just a bit. It was sexy.

  Adam came home to clean up and change, and when he saw her he couldn’t help but smile and whistle. “Darling, you are the most stunning creature on God’s World.”

  A shiver of joy went through her and she almost squealed in delight. He hugged and kissed her, then told her to go down and check that the dinner was coming along and to stand by to greet the guests.

  They began arriving before Adam was down, and she received them and directed the men to the smoking lounge and the girls to the sitting room. Adam didn’t smoke and drank only a little wine and then only on occasions like this, but he allowed smoking in the lounge for those who had to. Girls, of course, did not smoke, although Cassie and Suzl found they both fantasized occasionally about smoking gigantic cigars.

  Cassie’s head girl, Mina, who was sixteen and waiting for her father’s permission to marry, came to them separately and announced that dinner was served. Mina was wearing the newest allowed style, having proven quite a seamstress, and looked radiantly beautiful. Cassie would be sorry to lose her, but she knew that the girl had to follow the destiny of all girls. Apparently the only problem was that the big shot who wanted her had three other wives, and that bothered Mina’s monogamous father a little.

  The dinner went quite well, served by the staff. All eight of the other Judges were there, with their wives—or, in a few cases, head wife—and also present were eight others, of whom Cassie knew only three, and one only because he was something of a household name. She knew Suzl’s Colonel Weiz, of course, looking very handsome in his full-dress uniform, and she knew Onregon Sligh, the chief of Research and Development, the man who made the electric hair dryer possible. He was a fat, gruff, middle-aged, swarthy man with a thick head of wooly snow-white hair and a deep, gravelly voice. And it was impossible to avoid looking at General Gunderson Champion, New Eden’s Chief of Staff. Pure blond and with deep blue eyes, the exceedingly handsome general looked and sounded the image of a god come to life and was the subject of many wives’ fantasies. They all kept looking dreamily at him and sighing. The general, of course, hardly noticed; he was used to it.

  Conversation, of course, was limited to compliments and general niceties and banalities, but Cassie could see how proud Suzl was that her husband was here in such company. There were a few toasts, mostly to the girls, and then Adam Tilghman rose and all the others did likewise.

  “Ladies, you will excuse us,” he said in a businesslike tone. “Colonel Weiz, I’d like to talk to you privately before we convene the meeting. The rest of you gentlemen can take your after-dinner drinks in the lounge, and I’ll be with you very shortly.”

  Weiz looked surprised and Suzl shrugged when he looked questioningly at her, but he left and followed the Chief Judge into the study. The wives, of course, assisted in the clean-up. Although most of the men at the table had let themselves age into a look of mature authority, all were high-ranked enough to either have Flux wives or wives made young again in Flux. Not a single one looked or acted much older than sixteen-year-old Mina.

  Suzl, however, was plainly a little nervous. “Do you know what this is all ‘bout?” she asked Cassie anxiously.

  Cassie shrugged. “Nope. That’s men-talk. I don’t ask or even want to know his business, and you know I wouldn’t understand it if he did tell me.”

  In the study, Weiz was equally nervous. An audience with the Chief Judge was quite rare, and usually unpleasant, and Tilghman, up close, was as tough and hard-looking as from a distance.

  “Have a seat. Colonel. I’ve been meaning to talk to you for some time, but I’ve been quite busy with this thing, you know.”

  Weiz tried to hide his nervousness. A mere colonel in the company of the entire Directorate, the Chiefs of Staff, and Sligh was already enough to swell him, and he could only fear that a blow was inevitable.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” Tilghman asked him.

  “No, sir.”

  “I owe you something of a debt regarding my wife.”

  He felt suddenly chilled. “Your wife, sir?”

 
“Yes. Oh, don’t bother to hide it. I know you’ve got a wife with many talents and an absolute passion for furthering her husband’s career.”

  He felt like crawling in a hole but said nothing.

  “This may sound crazy. Colonel, but I’m in love with my wife. She had, as you know, the kind of past that would destroy anybody, man or woman, and most of it was unhappy. I could see that we could never get it all out, that it would keep coming back, and I had a constant fear of it. I am, after all, responsible in a way for the death of her father. Once your wife worked her little trick, all that conflict inside her just seemed to die out. Somehow you hit the right balance point, and she’s happy and at peace. Not as bright as I might like, but I realized that any more mental ability than what she has would bring back the pain and guilt and memories. We all have to make compromises in this life, I guess. Still, I would have liked to have been informed before anything was done rather than find out about it afterward.”

  Weiz didn’t know whether to be pleased or scared, and was a little of both. “They were friends— before, long ago,” he explained, although he knew Tilghman knew that. “It won’t work unless somebody wants it, and then only to the degree that they want it, so we weren’t pulling anything, sir.”

  “My ass you weren’t! Can it be broken?”

  He shrugged. “If she wants it broken, she can. My wife, who knows her better than anyone else, says she wants it just the way it is. If she clings to it. nothing can break it.”

  “That’s all I wanted to know. Colonel, you’ve never gotten any further because you’ve never had a combat command. You were one of the originals, and your conditioning techniques are sheer genius, but if you’re to go any further you know you’ll need a command. Do you want one? Do you honestly think you’re up to it?”

  The fact was, Weiz had avoided such a command most of his life, and was frightened of combat and its risks, but he was in no position to turn it down. “I’ll gladly take one, sir, and serve in any capacity you direct. I assume such a command is imminent?”

  “What in Heaven do you think this meeting’s about? We’re going after Nantzee, Colonel. We must have it. We need the people, too, particularly those with industrial skills and experience, so it can’t be like the Bakha slaughter. It’s going to be tricky. Are you willing to have ago?”

  “Yes, sir.” The idea petrified him, but to have said “no” would have meant the end of him and he knew it. Retirement—and that meant just plain growing old—with no more Flux rejuvenations. Well, the back door approach to advancement hadn’t fooled the old man, but if he could survive this and do a decent job, he knew, he might well be sitting on the Directorate one day, living the high life and embarrassing juniors.

  “Very well.” Tilghman got up. “You and your lovely wife may leave now, and if you’ll be so kind as to stop by the lounge and ask Dr. Sligh to come in, with my apologies to the others? Don’t worry, Colonel. Your orders will come in a matter of days.”

  He was startled. “That soon, sir?”

  “I’d start packing tonight. Light.”

  And, with that, he was dismissed.

  * * *

  Jeff returned to Pericles from the north feeling less depressed than he thought he would. Although he didn’t like the fact that she was exposed to danger, he found his mother more cheerful and alive and full of life than he’d ever seen her before. He was somewhat angry at Sondra—initially for not immediately sending Spirit home when they found each other, then for taking so long to get word back. But the two strange half-sisters seemed to belong together, and there was something in his mother’s eyes that he’d never seen before. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but where there had always been a childlike, innocent quality there now seemed a thoughtfulness and deliberateness that was difficult to understand and a little bit frightening. What could one such as she be plotting and planning?

  Mervyn listened with interest to his account. “This is something very new,” he told the young man. “Something different is happening once more. I’m very afraid, son, that your family seems destined to fall into things that others do not. Beware your own self. I’ve seen this sort of phenomenon run in families before, when a Soul Rider was involved, although not nearly as dramatically as your line.”

  That interested him. “You mean—there are others like us?”

  “No, not like you. As I said, your family seems to be unique in the extent of its doings and its tremendous reach, not to mention how complex the spells. But, yes—there are many other families in which a Soul Rider is involved, all of whom have great power. Some don’t know it, because they never leave Anchor. Some wind up heads of Fluxlands. But they are all there. Rather dull, though, when compared with our lot.”

  “Thanks a lot. I think we could all stand a little more dullness.”

  “But it is not to be. I thought you were going to stay with the train up there for a while and see some of the adventurous north.”

  “Too chilly. Besides, it was different with just me and Sondra. Now I find out she’s my aunt, for heaven’s sake, and she’s taken my mother in tow; I’d just get in the way.”

  “Uh huh. Poor boy crushed by romantic fantasy. I thought so. So now what will you do?”

  “Oh. I kind of hoped I’d be of some use around here for a while. The way you’ve been talking, things are going to start popping around here any second.”

  “And so they will, my boy,” Mervyn told him gravely. “So they will. You have the power, and some formal training, but very little self-control, I fear. Still, only your heritage makes me hesitant to accept your services. You folks, as I said, always seem to make your own trouble and inflict it on everybody else.”

  “Well, if you think it’s a curse, it’s going to come anyway, so I can’t lose any sleep over it. At least that Soul Rider’s over a thousand kilometers from here.”

  “I know, I know. Don’t worry so much, son. Have a seat and relax.” He paused a moment, trying to find a bit of strength for person-to-person intensity. He never was very good at this sort of thing. “I have news of your grandmother.”

  “You do!” He frowned suddenly. “Bad news, I take it.”

  “In a way. I was correct in all things. Zelligman Ivan was clearing away the one distinct threat to him the woman who routed Haldayne from this cluster and helped destroy his predecessor here—as well as currying favor with New Eden. He delivered her to them. A young Fluxlord named Richards was witness to the result. She allowed herself, in Flux, to be transformed into one of their kind of women and then married Adam Tilghman, the strongest mind and will of New Eden.”

  ”What! I don’t believe you! She would never—”

  “Yes she would, and did,” Mervyn responded calmly. “You know only the loving grandmother and the warrior legends. We forget sometimes that those are human beings under all that guff. You think nothing of stalking a comely young lady and taking her to bed, but none of us can really imagine our parents doing such a thing or acting in such a manner. Family and authority figures are rarely taken as they are—real people with real hurts and wants and needs. Your grandmother considers herself a total failure, a killer of thousands. For over forty years there’s been nobody except possibly me whom she could relate to, human-to-human, and not as a legend, an institution, or a parent—and she blames me for part of her problems.”

  Jeff was absolutely crushed. He simply couldn’t believe it. “They brainwashed her, that’s all.”

  “Undoubtedly, but it didn’t take. She has more automatic protection than I do, and while I admit my body may be killed I consider my mind invulnerable to external pressure. If she took that binding spell it’s because she wanted to.”

  “But she always hated them and everything they stood for!”

  “Ah. yes, but we’re not dealing with a machine here. This is a person. She is paying off her guilt in a way that is physically painless. She’s had a life like no other, one of greatness, but it is for others to see and underst
and that. For every great thing she accomplished, she died inside, and benefited not a whit. No, if suicide runs in families, then you’re immune. What your grandmother and mother endured would have destroyed lesser people quickly. It just finally caught up to Cass.”

  Jeff sat there quietly for a moment, trying to understand what Mervyn was saying. On an intellectual level he followed it, but on a personal one he would never understand it. “So what you’re saying is that the pressures of her life finally caught up to her, and she had a breakdown, and now she’s found a way out without shooting herself in the head.”

  “That’s about it. It does, however, cause a severe headache for me. Don’t underestimate Tilghman. He’ll use her as a symbol. Her conversion has already spread terror among the local Fluxlords, who can’t jump fast enough to get on the New Eden bandwagon. Just tonight your grandmother is hostess to a dinner gathering of the uppermost echelons of New Eden. I don’t need to be there to know what they’re talking about. New Eden, with the intervening Fluxlords in line, is about to move on Anchor Nantzee, the most highly industrialized Anchor in the cluster and one of the top four on World. Bakha gives him the raw materials, and Logh is the breadbasket. Mareh, with its hordes of sheep and textile mills, is least important to him, but if Nantzee goes it’ll fall into his hands almost for the asking. His cult will control an entire cluster, and the vast bulk of Flux in between. It’s the start of a new Empire, and this time a very ugly one that might engulf us all.”

  “Then this is where I guess I’d better be. Uh—sir?”

  “Yes?”

  “How do you know there’s this dinner party going on tonight? I thought you said New Eden was air-tight.”

  “No, it’s not air-tight. What I told you was that what you were proposing was impossible. It is far easier to get information than to act on it. I, my boy, am off to Anchor Nantzee in a matter of hours, with a few stops at some nervous Fluxlands.”

 

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