She looked up. The others were watching her. They had overheard her description of the Virtual Mode. Maybe they thought she was crazy. Except for Provos, of course.
"I guess you'd have to be there," she said. "I know it sounds crazy. My father must think I've gone over the edge."
"You're like me," Esta said. "Nobody knows what's in your mind."
"Close enough," Colene agreed.
Slick stood. "I have things to do," he said. "I'll pick you up in the morning."
"Remember, no—" Colene started.
"I have to arrange for funds to be where we're going. And to put my house on the market. You have changed my life, little girl." He left.
"Which one of us did he mean?" Esta asked.
Colene considered. "Both of us. But mostly you. I think you may be doing as much good for him as he's doing for you."
Esta laughed, unable to believe that. But Colene suspected it was true. She remembered her brief dialogue with Slick on the notion of being like a father. Now it was happening, and she knew he wasn't faking his desire for it. There had been truth in him as he spoke. Unless she was fooling herself about her ability to read minds, a little, here in this reality.
There were two beds in the suite. Provos had taken one, so Colene decided to share the other with Esta.
They slept, but in the night Colene dreamed. A balding man was approaching her, taking her onto his lap, telling her to "open up" her legs, and she was terrified of what was coming but unable to resist. Suddenly her chest was bare. Then she saw the burning cigarette. She tried to scream, but couldn't open her mouth. The pain started.
She snapped awake, shaking and sweating. Esta was writhing beside her, making little strangled moans. It was Esta's dream she had shared!
Colene caught the girl's hand. "It's gone," she said, trying to project the thought to Esta's mind. "It's over. Never again. He can't touch you any more. It's just a bad memory, and it will fade. You'll have a normal life."
Esta slowly relaxed. Colene continued to hold her hand and project calming thoughts. She knew that the victims of abuse could suffer post-traumatic stress, much the way soldiers and the victims of torture did. In fact Esta was a victim of torture. She had suffered all three forms of abuse: physical, sexual, and emotional. Systematically. Before she was ten years old, and continuing thereafter. She had massive horror to work out of her system. Could just going away with her uncle be enough? Colene herself had suffered much less, yet remained somewhat fouled up; how much worse it was for Esta!
Yet what else could they do? Slick would try his best to make a good life for them both. That would have to be enough.
Colene relaxed herself, still holding Esta's hand, and drifted back to sleep.
Only to have her own bad dream. She saw a wedding, and heard the Bridal Chorus, a piece of music she had always loved; pursuing its origin she had learned of the German composer Richard Wagner, and become a passing devotee of his music. There was something about it that fascinated her, and not merely its beauty. But this was not an ordinary wedding; she knew it. She strained to see the bride, but the heads of everyone else were in the way and she caught only snatches until she was past. Then she watched the bride's rear, noting how beautiful she was, how elegantly slender yet full, her brown/black hair spreading down across her back.
The bride came to the front, and Colene saw the groom. It was Darius! He was so sternly handsome it was almost unbearable. Her love for him suffused her heart and burst beyond it, rising up to her stunned brain and forging down to her genital region, infusing both with longing. She wanted him in every way possible, as much as possible, as long as possible.
Then the bride lifted her veil, and Colene finally saw her face, so beautiful that there was a murmur of awe throughout the congregation. She was absolutely perfect, and so was he, and they made the most wonderful couple. They kissed, and it was the fulfillment of the lifelong dream of every man and every woman who had ever lived.
But Colene watched with horror shading into grief. Because the bride was not herself. She was Nona.
"Oh, Colene," Esta said as Colene struggled awake, shaking. She had shared the dream, because of their linkage. "I'm so sorry."
"I've got to get back to the Julia universe," Colene said. "Before it happens for real." But she was afraid it was already too late, because she was so hopelessly outclassed. Nona had everything: beauty, maturity, innocence, and terrific magic. How could anyone compete? "If I could even only play an instrument the way she does," she added wistfully. "But her hammered dulcimer is like the music of heaven, while my guitar is like strictly amateur." She sighed, experiencing a whiff of suicidal inclination. Maybe it had been too late the moment the anchors changed and Nona had appeared. Maybe this was her punishment for getting them out of their prior predicament by practicing deceit. Darius had come to accept what she had done, but did she accept it herself?
"You're such a good person," Esta said.
"I wish," Colene said, echoing the girl's own expression.
CHAPTER 14
DEAL
DARIUS watched Nona neatly cage the pseudo-Darius, winning her duel. "So now we are free," she "All of us have won our duels."
"Until tomorrow," the rabble man said.
Then it was clear: this was not a duel to eliminate their obligation to breed, it was only for the first of a thousand required breedings. They had won the day—and only the day. Nona looked chagrined: a feeling Darius understood. What were they to do?
He looked at the woman he had tied, who now exactly resembled Colene. But she was not, and that made the difference. He had won his own match—but had to endure the rest of the day and night, assuming that they had night here, before being done. He looked across at Stave, who had Keli similarly tied. And at Seqiro, who was now ignoring his dragon. All of them had won—but what difference did it make, with years of similar contests to follow? They couldn't even get free of their ;four separate daises unless they agreed to breed; only a breeding finished a duel.
If they were to do anything, they would have to do it together. They would have to consult and organize. But they could not get physically together, or have privacy.
But they didn't need to. Seqiro's mind-magic sufficed. All they needed was someone to take the initiative.
"Stave," he murmured subvocally. "Nona. Seqiro. We must consider our options."
"What options?" Stave asked. "We are confined here whether we fight or breed, a thousand days."
"We do not have a thousand days!" Nona protested. "Colene and Provos will return in just a few days, and if we are not there to join them, what will happen?"
"Seqiro can tell them where we are," Darius suggested.
Only if I am close to the anchor, the horse thought. I can not reach that far from here.
"I could conjure you to the spot where we entered this realm," Darius said. "But I fear that would not be wise. The despots may have a trap set there, awaiting our return."
"I might verify that," Nona said. "If I could tame a familiar there. But I don't think my magic reaches beyond this place. There is some sort of barrier that prevents the surface folk from seeing into this realm, and surely I will not be able to see out."
"Then we must find some other way out," Darius said. "We must escape the rabble and emerge where the despots are not watching. At exactly the right time."
"But we can not even leave our daises," Stave said. "We will forfeit our duels when we do."
"That is why we need to consult and plan strategy," Darius said. "We must decide exactly what we are going to do, then do it swiftly, so that the rabble can not stop us."
"And with wonderful Seqiro, we can consult without moving," Nona said, momentarily pleased.
"Yes. I think we had better settle down for the day and night, waiting out our victories. We can ask for food, and use the pots." This reminded Darius of his time in Colene's shack, keeping out of sight. He had had to use a pot there and let her empty it. It had been a som
ewhat humiliating necessity. But she had taken good care of him, and taught him her language, and he had come to love her.
They do not know that we can commune mentally, Seqiro thought. Kelt does not suspect, and so the others do not.
"And that is our strength," Darius agreed. "They now know of our other powers, but must think they have us isolated, so that in time we must do their bidding."
Yes.
"But even if we can plan, what can we do?" Nona asked. "It is too soon to return to the surface, and we can not hide from the rabble while we remain in their realm."
"Could we hide farther inside the world?" Stave asked.
"Is there any space there? Isn't it solid to the core?"
"Not according to our legend," Stave said. "There should be caves below each rad, extending ultimately to the center. If you can conjure us through the wall, as you did to get us into this chamber."
"But this is a network of chambers," Darius said.
"Oh, it is not," Nona said. "It is one big chamber, which the rabble have adapted, just as we surface folk have adapted the natural contours to fit our needs."
"Like ants making nests?" Now he realized that the small chambers had indeed been artificial rather than natural; there had been no stalactites. "This big chamber is the natural one?" He gazed up at the rounded ceiling.
"Yes. Above it should be the much larger central chamber at the heart of the world."
"Above it? Above it is the surface of the planet!"
"No. Our heads are toward the center, not the surface."
"That is not possible! Gravity doesn't—" Then he remembered the other impossible things about this reality: gravity the same no matter what size the world, giants on big planets and midgets on little ones, all perfectly human. Starlight from fernlike patterns that ranged in size from global down to infinitesimal. At the same time he was receiving confirmation from Seqiro: this was the world-view of these folk, and they had more experience with it than he.
He shook his head, bemused. "Hollow planet," he said. "At least that explains why gravity doesn't change with size, by my logic. The mass I thought was there wasn't. This is one strange universe!"
"The one you hail from is different?" Nona asked. "I mean, in the underlying nature, as well as in its magic?"
"More different than I had appreciated," he agreed. He glanced up again, knowing that the watching rabble would not understand why. In fact, most of them were departing, knowing that the excitement was over. But some remained to keep watch. They were not fools.
Nona asked for food and it was brought to her dais. She had them bring food also for her caged opponent, to whom she handed it in. Darius, guided by her, did the same, except that he actually had to spoon-feed Null-Colene. He didn't dare release her arms. Stave did the same with Keli. Seqiro did not need to feed Bel; she was able to feed herself.
Night closed at the normal time. The light simply faded until the cavern was dark.
That was a relief to Darius, who was now able to use the pot in privacy. But he wasn't sure what to do about Null-Colene. He didn't feel right about leaving her tied, but did not dare untie her. Finally he brought the other pot, picked her up, set her on it, and left her there for a suitable interval. His memory of his experience in True-Colene's reality returned, more strongly; this was turnabout.
True-Colene: he missed her, and hoped she was well. They had spent so little time together, since their first acquaintance and separation! Had he been correct to refrain from sexual relations with her? It was true that she was underage by the standard of her culture, but they were no longer hi her culture. He would have to ask her how she felt about it, and try to judge the sincerity of her answer. It would certainly be nice if that barrier between them could be abolished. It was not that he desired sex, though he did, but that he regretted any problem between them, of any nature.
He wanted to sleep, but feared that Null-Colene would manage to work her way free in the night and tie him. The duel was not yet over! If he forgot that, he could lose, even now.
The others had similar misgivings. But Seqiro resolved the problem: he was now able to tune in on all their opponents' minds, so that if something went on in the night, he would know and could rouse them with an imperative thought.
The rabble provided blankets and pillows. The duel was not supposed to be an act of privation, merely a contest of wills. The participants could have anything they wanted and agreed on. It was presumed that Darius would not agree to letting Null-Colene have a knife with which to cut her bonds. But he did agree to warmth. He spread a blanket over her and tucked a pillow under her head, then walked to the other side of the dais.
Darius settled down to sleep. "Darius," Null-Colene called in that too-familiar voice. "Sleep with me. I will be soft and comfortable for you."
"And try to tempt me to breed with you," he retorted.
"Yes, of course. But if you can not resist that when I am tied and helpless, then you do not deserve to abstain."
The funny thing was, that logic made sense to him. He knew what she was and what she wanted, and he had her helpless. The horse would warn him if she became a threat. He did not like leaving her tied and alone for the night. She might be a rabble woman, but she had intelligence and personality and deserved better. Also, she did remind him infernally of True-Colene, as she intended, and it was hard to treat her unkindly.
He went to join her. He lay beside her and put his arms around her, outside the blanket. He arranged his own blanket. He closed his eyes and relaxed.
"Thank you, Darius," she said. "You are kind to me." Somehow that made him feel guilty. But he stifled the feeling and slept.
HE woke as the light brightened with his head on her bare bosom. For a moment he was afraid she had gotten free and managed to tie him, but she remained secure. She had merely worked her way around so as to make of herself a pillow for him. He was now under both blankets with her.
"How did this happen?" he asked.
"I am able to move a little," she said. "I am trying to seduce you."
"If you can move enough to rearrange the blankets, why can't you move enough to get out of your bonds?"
"I am not sure," she confessed. "I did want to, and thought I could, but somehow I didn't."
I dissuaded her, Seqiro's thought came. I dissuaded all of them. I thought it best.
"You were right," Darius said, realizing that he would indeed have lost the duel had the horse not been on guard. He had been lulled by the rabble woman's affectation of submission, and her Colene aspect. Colene he could trust, to a degree, because he had come to understand her; this one he could not.
"Oh, Darius," she pleaded, tears in her eyes. "I did not do anything to you in the night. We are under the blankets. No one will see or know. It will cost you nothing. Please breed with me!"
This emulation was coming painfully close to the original! She had found the way to work on his desire.
Though he knew better, he treated her as he might have treated the real Colene. "I bear you no malice. I would not mind breeding with you. But I can not commit to a thousand days of this. I must leave this region in a few days, and return to my true friends. Therefore I may not do this with you or any of the others."
"I understand," she whispered. But her tears soaked her face. His feeling of guilt magnified. She was doing an excellent job of that. Had he not known that it had not been her restraint that had prevented her from overcoming him while he slept, he might have succumbed and given her her victory.
And how were the others faring? Seqiro obviously had no problem, and Nona had her opposite securely caged. But what about Stave?
He slept with Kelt, as you did with your opposite. He asked me to nullify his sexual interest, and this I was able to do. Even so, it was an effort.
Surely so! Stave was not part of their Virtual Mode group, and Nona did not love him, so he had no special reason to hold out. His passions were those of the normal young man. The temptation of a beautif
ul and eager woman would be enormous for him. He was holding out only to support the others, especially Nona's effort to bring the anima.
If Keli had appealed to him the way Null-Colene had appealed to Darius—
Darius got up and looked across at the other dais. There was Stave—and there was Null-Nona.
No, it had to be Keli, who had assumed the form of Nona. Just as Null-Nona had assumed the form of Colene for Darius. These folk were amazingly proficient. So Stave had been tempted exactly as Darius had.
How many more days could they hold out, even if they managed to tie up their opponents?
They had breakfast on their separate daises, the three human beings feeding their confined companions. The food seemed to be of vegetable origin, as it had been the evening before, but of no type he recognized. It was a grainy green porridge that tasted better than it looked. But this was routine; they were actually holding a mental conference and planning their escape.
The first element of this was for Nona to find and tame a suitable familiar. That would enable her to give Seqiro a distant pair of eyes, and the horse could show Darius a suitable site to which to conjure them. This system had worked well enough on the surface, and should work here. It would enable them to get away from the rabble folk. But then they would have to go to the inner chamber, across the barrier they assumed the rabble could not cross, to avoid recapture.
There were several key stages. Nona brought up the first: "How are we going to get away from the daises without causing an immediate alarm? We must be conjured away one by one, for we are not a close-touching group, and the moment one of us disappears the rabble will sound the alarm and close in on the others."
"That we can solve," Stave replied. "We can use illusion. I can make illusion figures to take the place of the four of us, so that the rabble will not know we are gone. Nona can make the illusion of nothing, to cloud each of us as we go to join Seqiro. Once we are together, the conjuring can proceed."
"Yes, that would work," Nona said. "If you can maintain the four illusions long enough."
"Illusion is one thing I am good at," Stave said. "I once made ten illusion figures, just to see if I could do it. Of course they were fuzzy and did not move well. I can do a perfect job on only one at a time, but if I concentrate I think I can make four adequate ones for a while."