Empires of Flux & Anchor

7 SIDEBAR STRINGING

Stringers did not usually ask for Sister Kasdi when they called on Hope, so it was with some curiosity that she decided to go down to the reception hall and see these who had. For lots of personal reasons she loved the taciturn loners who plied the trade routes between Anchors and Fluxlands, not the least of which was her envy of their freedom.

Two figures waited in the temple reception room. One was a small, thin young man barely Kasdi’s height and almost as thin, although he wore the black of his profession. The other was an even shorter individual, perhaps one hundred and fifty centimeters, who was very fat, although her ample stomach was not nearly matched to her enormous breasts. She had long, thick black hair that fell down her back almost to her waist, wore unusual dark blue denim pants that seemed quite baggy, and a white tee shirt, obviously made for a very large man, but necessary to keep her enormous frontage covered.

“Suzl!” Kasdi almost screamed, and ran to the small, fat woman, hugging and kissing her. Finally, they stepped back and looked at each other.

“Cass, you look lousy,” Suzl told her.

Kasdi laughed. Of all those on World, friend and foe, only Suzl refused to call her by anything but her original name—and was probably the only one who could get away with it. “You seem to have made up for what I didn’t eat,” she shot back. “You’re fat!”

“Well, I enjoy life. Oh, uh, Cass, this is Ravi. He’s my boss, so to speak, and, well, sort of my husband.”

That caught the Sister off-guard for a moment. “Husband?” She was well aware that, as a result of a misfired spell long ago, Suzl was physically female only to a point; she had a male sexual organ and was, despite appearances and manner, really a man.

Ravi looked a bit nervous for a stringer, but said nothing.

“Yeah. I keep him respectable. We both have what each other wants most, but I have two big bonuses.”

Kasdi got the drift, and wasn’t sure whether to be shocked or understanding and tolerant. Suzl had always gone both ways sexually and was unashamed of the fact—even before her strange spell. But she had been born and raised a woman and grown up that way, and could hardly be impugned for being attracted to men. Ravi, on the other hand, was obviously a lifelong homosexual, and that was a different moral problem. It was tolerated in Flux but suppressed in Anchor, and the Church frowned on it as interfering with the prime mission of procreation. Still, Kasdi was not one to make preachments now. She was very glad to see Suzl, the only person alive who could and would tell her to her face exactly what she was thinking, no matter how blunt or uncomplimentary it may be.

“Come! Both of you! Sit down over here and talk a while!” Kasdi invited, and they took chairs in a corner of the room. “How long has it been?”

“A couple of years at least,” Suzl replied. “We were through once about ten months ago, but you were off conquering someplace or other. Actually, we’re a little off the route here, but when we heard about the ugly business, I just had to come by.”

Kasdi nodded, some of the euphoria fading as reality was brought up. “Yes. So it’s spread through the network.”

For the first time, Ravi spoke, in a thin, reedy voice that was somewhat grating. “It has spread through all of World, and not merely from this source. There is every evidence to show that Coydt’s own people are also telling the tale to get maximum effect.”

“He would,” Kasdi said angrily. “Some day we’ll meet, he and I, and he’ll learn the price of his work.”

“You’re not the only one gunning for Coydt, Cass,” Suzl told her. “Somebody else has the whole stringer network out trying to track him down.”

“Oh? Who?”

“You’re not gonna like this.”

She felt an odd chill. “Why? What do you mean?”

“Well, those that have seen him say he looks like and claims to be Matson.”

Somehow she both expected and feared those words, words she had somehow suspected to hear despite all evidence and experience for eighteen years. “You know Matson’s long dead. He died in my arms from a hole in his chest the size of a grapefruit. You know. You were there, too, that day.”

Suzl nodded. “I know, although I never saw him. You and lots of others did, though, and I don’t doubt anybody. He’s officially dead, that’s for sure. But whoever this is has taken his form and knows all the stringer codes. Anybody with power can seem to be anybody else in Flux, you know that, but one thing’s sure. Whoever he is, he has Jomo with him.”

The huge, misshapen dugger came immediately to mind, so brutal and grotesque on the outside, but so very gentle and understanding on the inside. Jomo had been Matson’s chief driver, the train boss, and fiercely loyal to his boss. Jomo, too, had been there that terrible day, and he had been the one to pull her off his lifeless body. She’d heard he never went back to the trains again, refusing to work for any other stringer, but had retired and gone to work in one of the old dugger communities in the wild. She had not seen him either, not in eighteen years, except in the nightmares she had off and on to this day, reliving that horrible scene.

“Jomo could explain a lot,” she told them. “He always liked me, and he worshipped Matson. He’d know all the people and all the codes. If he found somebody up there with a grudge against Coydt, and they are legion, and with Flux power, it might be a way to throw Coydt off balance. Maybe—maybe he th’inks he’s revenging for Matson, to pay off the injury to Matson’s child.”

“Could be,” Suzl agreed. “It’s sure got old Coydt’s boys running around, though. Coydt seems to feel the same way you do, and he’s moving heaven and hell to find out who it is. Word is that three of his best people have already turned up dead, so I guess they found out.”

This was getting interesting in more ways than one. “Suzl—Ravi—do you know where Coydt is now?”

“He is in Anchor, certainly,” Ravi responded. “He has altered his appearance and has appeared in a number of Anchors just southwest of here, mostly under old and familiar guises and aliases. You will not catch him unawares in Flux, if that is your thinking, and people are far too frightened of him to betray him in Anchor—even to you—pardon me, but you see how it is seen elsewhere. He even kidnapped and cursed forever your own daughter.”

She nodded. “I know. But he still knows I’m looking, and now he has a different enemy as well. In a way, Jomo is doing me a great service. If Coydt fears ambush in Anchor from Jomo and his companion, whoever he really is, he will spend most of his time in Flux, where eventually he will have to come to terms with me. But if he wants no fight with me right now, and he doesn’t seem to, then he has to expose himself in Anchor to an unknown assassin. I wonder if he’s feeling uncomfortable for the first time in his life?”

“I would doubt it,” Ravi replied. “I do not think Coydt can feel very much anymore. Do not ever believe he is afraid of you, even if he should be. If he chooses not to take you on, it is because he has other things to do. He loves only fear in others and the power it generates for him. He is quite cautious in Anchor, but he walks where he wills and when he wishes. It is for others to fear him. Nothing else is acceptable to him.”

“Still, the pressure is on him, all the more if he is up to some new evil plan. If that’s so, it’s directed against me and the Church, and Jomo can queer his plans. If he’s not afraid, he’s at least being overcautious, and that’s better than nothing.”

Suzl decided to change the subject back to the original. “How is Spirit doing?”

“She’s adjusted well, although it was very hard on her at first. She’s restless, though, being trapped here. Mervyn thinks I ought to let her go into the world, but I can’t see how I can in good conscience. I mean, in many ways she’s like a baby. No shame, no embarrassment, and very little communication or understanding. Come—let’s go out and see her, and you’ll see my problem.”

Her weeks in the garden had given Spirit the time to think and sort things out as the complex spell worked its way into every fabric of her and became in a very real way a part of her.

In a way, understanding was due to Coydt. His demonstration in his office back in the Pocket had shown her that attitudes, which are taken for granted, were not the same as reality. Having the time to think and reflect on her life and attitudes before the spell and compare them both to her behavior now and to other people’s reactions to that behavior had given her an understanding of just what had happened to her.

Clothing was normal. People did not walk around in the nude and it was considered immoral behavior. She knew and understood this, but could no longer accept it. Clothing, any form of covering, seemed immoral, unnatural, even repugnant to her now. She knew that her beauty combined with her nakedness would make men lustful and turn folks on, but she didn’t mind—although once she would have. She would never again apologize or feel inhibited by anything that was normal and natural.

She slept a lot, and it seemed that every time she awoke things seemed different to her. Small things she’d never noticed, like the sound of a quiet breeze in the treetops or the shapes of clouds or the rustling of wind in the grass, were beautiful and endlessly fascinating. Nothing that other people prized or worried about seemed the least bit important to her anymore, not even any of those things that used to worry and concern her. She wasn’t even sure now if she wanted the spell broken. Time no longer had meaning, nor did ambition. Her wants were simple and her needs were few.

She found all her memories in place, but more and more they seemed somebody else’s memories, and they did not belong to the kind of life she could imagine living now. At first she had dwelt on the past, but now it was becoming so unreal to her that it was quite literally irrelevant. She ceased to think about it, finally, and with that a psychological barrier snapped and a total change came over her.

Now, ten weeks after the change (although she didn’t know it), the old Spirit was practically dead. She had come, psychologically, head-to-head with the reality of her existence and its permanence, and her mind had taken the easiest, most comfortable path of total acceptance. One day she simply awoke and thought nothing strange, unusual, or different. She was the way she was and she could no longer even think of being any other way at all. So absolute was the acceptance that she no longer even thought of herself as cursed, or as a victim, or in any way different than she should be. She no longer even missed speech or reading; forbidden forever as they were to her, she dropped the very concept. Whatever was no longer relevant or applicable she simply edited out of her very thoughts.

Her mother, of course, was both relevant and applicable. She didn’t like being trapped here in the temple garden. It wasn’t natural or normal, nor could she here fill her natural need for sex. She had only one particular place she wanted to go, and that briefly, but she could stand being caged only so long.

She was taking a shower under the small waterfall that was the centerpiece of the garden when they showed up—her mother and two strangers. She emerged from the waterfall and walked out of the stream and up to them, a quizzical look on her face. She felt like a giant in a land of short people; she was a head taller than the tallest of them. She realized from the man’s dress that he must be a stranger, and she guessed that the fat one with the enormous tits must work for him.

“Wow! She’s gorgeous!” Suzl exclaimed. “Hello, Spirit!”

The nude girl looked blank, and Kasdi said, “She can’t understand a word, can’t even read intonations. We’ve worked out a sign language system, but that’s the best we can do. Here—I’ll throw a little spell your way that will save you a lot of grief and long hours of learning.”

It was simpler after that, although along with the signs a large amount of exaggerated gesturing and gyrations was necessary to convey real information. It was like doing a whole conversation in pantomime. For example, to indicate that Suzl and Kasdi were old friends required a lot of back-and-forth pointing, a hug, and a peck on the cheek by each. It sometimes took several minutes to get a simple concept across, but it worked. To Spirit, with infinite patience and no time sense, it was a conversation.

Hello. Your mother and I are old friends. This man is my lover and my boss. We are stringers. You are attractive/sexy/pretty. We would like to be your friends. The concept of stringer, for example, involved miming a line or rope being pulled, followed by a mock whip and ride-in-place. But the message got through.

Spirit smiled and kissed them both and returned the greeting. She turned, looked over at a nearby tree, then ran for it, leaped up and caught a branch with her hands, then pulled herself up on it with contortionist’s ease. There was a small cluster of fruit there, jabagua, related to the banana, and she picked the stalk and jumped back to the ground, landing on her feet. She went back up to them and offered each a fruit.

Even Ravi was impressed by the display. “Anyone who can move like that can take care of herself,” he commented.

“Yeah,” Suzl agreed. “Look, she’s gonna go nuts if she stays here and I think you know that.”

“You’ve been talking to Mervyn,” Kasdi said suspiciously.

“Sure. We saw the old boy in Globbus on the way here. I admit it. And I agree with him—now more than ever.”

“But—like that? What will people make of her?”

“People know of her,” Suzl replied. “Everybody knows her face and what happened to her.” She paused a moment. “You know more of this spell stuff than I do, even though I’m the one with a permanent spell myself. You know she should be free. That Soul Rider, or whatever the hell it is, is in there for a reason, too, and it’s not to jump up into trees and eat fruit. I think maybe you’re holding onto her. You never had her, and now that you do, you just don’t want to let her go.”

Kasdi sighed. “Maybe you’re right—but my concerns are real.”

Suzl thought a moment. “It’s been a long time. Has she seen her family? I mean, the folks that raised her?”

“No. Most can’t come; the rest won’t go into Flux.”

“O.K., then. That’s our next destination anyway. We’re sidebar stringing for Laconner through this cluster.” A sidebar stringer was a junior in the trade who had not yet earned enough to have his or her own route or had not found a wizard as a client and sponsor. They ran mini-trains off the main one, allowing the stringer with business to bypass less profitable stops while still serving them. “Let us take her with us to Anchor Logh to see her folks. If it works out, fine. If it doesn’t, well, at least we’ll know who’s right.”

Kasdi considered it, and felt curiously reluctant to go along with it, although Suzl’s logic was impeccable. She kept trying to come up with reasons not to permit it, but stopped after a moment. Perhaps they’re right, she thought guiltily. Maybe I am just trying to hold on to her. “All right. But. you bring her back here with a progress report before going elsewhere.”

“Fair enough.”

“Uh—Suzl?”

“Yeah, Cass?”

“How much is Mervyn paying Ravi to do all this?”

She chuckled. “Not much. Just a good lead on a possible sponsor for an independent train.”

“I thought so. All right, then. If she’s willing, go with my blessings.”

Suzl turned to Spirit, who had lost interest and was studying the wrinkled skin of the fruit with absolute fascination. Suzl hesitated to interrupt her for a moment, wondering just what the girl was seeing that was so interesting, but she tapped Spirit’s shoulder and the girl looked up. Suzl backed away and made out in mime, Would you like to go with us?

The girl’s reaction was pure joy and excitement, and she even did a little dance to indicate her desire. She definitely wanted out, and the sooner the better.

Kasdi gave up. The reaction was too deep to ignore.

Ravi had to return to the train to work out his routings so that they could still make their stops and relink with the main train on schedule, but Suzl remained for a while with Kasdi.

“I can tell you’re less than thrilled with Ravi,” she commented. “I’m trying not to judge. You have to live your own life.”

“You’ve been isolated from the real world a long time, Cass. You live here with the Church, and with your powers you don’t think twice about skipping along in the void. I don’t have any Flux powers, remember. I’m just a dugger, and so if I want to travel and live my life, I need protection, and that means compromising.”

“He’s not a major wizard, but he has some real power,” Kasdi noted. “You know he has some personal spells on you.”

Suzl shrugged. “I figured as much. He was born into the trade, and they don’t believe in using Flux power to change themselves. It’s against their code. Fix up, heal, yeah, but nothing more. So he was real short for a guy, and kind of frail, and he grew up worshipping those big hunks. If he didn’t have the power, he couldn’t be in this business. The stringers don’t have much respect for guys who like guys or girls who like girls, so when we crossed paths, I was what he needed. I’m a woman who was what he wants. He’s a stringer with the power and I need that. We’re kind of loose. I can do most anything I want.”

“It wasn’t just fat that grew those unnatural breasts.”

“Sure. But that power also gave me the back and muscle support, so it doesn’t bother me. Same with my other self, which is also not proportional. But, you see, I like it this way—all of it. I’m a dugger, Cass, and there’s a lot worse ways than mine for duggers to be that are no fun at all. So I work as his foreman and play at being his wife, and I got no worries in Flux. I’m not in love with the little wimp, but if you have to be owned by somebody, there are worse people to be owned by and not many better.”

Kasdi sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Perhaps I am too insulated from the real world. From here, surrounded by devout women and looking over maps showing the spread of the Church, it’s easy to forget that so little has really changed. You really don’t like to think of things that way.”

“People stay people, with all the good and all the bad. Things have changed for the better. The Flux is safer, the Anchors better run, and there’s a whole new sense of learning in both places—it’s good what you did. You don’t see that dull look in people’s eyes so much anymore, the idea that this is what is and what will be. You gave ’em a future, a sense of change that excites ’em. But Flux is still Flux and power is still power. Short of making everybody into slaves, you’re not going to change the way people are, and if you did that, then why bother?”

Sister Kasdi sighed. “Maybe you’re right. It’s funny—you’re maybe the only one I can tell this to, but I have doubts. Lots of doubts all the time. I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. I wonder if all this is real or just some false wizardry, self-delusion. Is this really the Holy Mother’s will, or am I just another Fluxlord with too big ambitions kidding myself along? I don’t know. When you have this kind of power, both political and Flux, it’s impossible to tell your own delusions from what’s real. You know, sometimes I envy Spirit. No worries, no cares, no responsibilities. And I get the idea she knows what’s true and real far better than I.”

“You’re better than you think you are,” Suzl told her. “The old boy is right about one thing, though. You left yourself nothing but work and worry and responsibility. No fun, no vacations, no way to just let loose and relax. I couldn’t have stood it this long, but if you don’t figure out a way to take a breather, it’ll eventually crack even you. All that’s bottled up inside of you with no way to get out. If it becomes too much, it’ll explode.”

“I know, I know. If you think of an answer to it all, let me know. In the meantime—take good care of her, Suzl.”

“That’s one worry you shouldn’t have.”

The big, hairy, muscular man was playing cards in the Gotron Saloon in Anchor Fhaxtrod when a younger man came in and caught his eye. The big man played out his hand, and won, then excused himself from the game and went into a back room with the newcomer.

“Well?”

“Not much. As near as we can figure out, there was no way that wound didn’t mean nearly instant death. Nobody on the scene had any doubts at all. Still, when the stringers sorted out their dead, his body wasn’t there. It was never found, although that’s not unusual. There was that tremendous spell from the girl and a lot of confusion and there are always a lot of missing.”

“And Jomo?”

“He showed up in Globbus a couple of weeks later and got all the survivors together, paid ’em off and disbanded it. Most of the other duggers signed on with other trains, but he didn’t. Stayed in Globbus for several months, then went up north in the wild, settled down, and got a job as a bouncer in a saloon in Tregia, one of those dugger’s haven Fluxlands. He’s real smart about some things, almost retarded in others, kind of like a good trained animal. Real faithful to his boss, but not any boss will do. I’m convinced, though, that he couldn’t possibly have thought up anything like this. Everybody thinks that he thinks it’s really Matson, so he’s back on the job.”

Coydt van Haaz scratched his chin a moment. “So somebody changed themselves into Matson, somebody who knew him well enough to impersonate him eighteen years later so exactly that he can fool even somebody close to Matson like Jomo, then hunts up the big dugger and goes gunning for me. I don’t buy it, Yorek. It doesn’t ring true. Still, if Matson had somehow lived, where’s he been all these years? He’s a false wizard—he has no real powers. Can somebody like that just up and give up the stringer trade that was his life, leave all that credit wealth behind, and, even transformed by somebody with power, just take up another life and not betray himself all that time? Even if he could, he’s too in touch with today. He knows the present stringer codes and exactly which people to talk to and where they are. That’s not somebody even the stringers consider long dead. Either way, none of it fits.”

“Except that if it is Matson, his reappearance now makes sense. Spirit was his daughter, too, although he told Gilly he only learned about her when we hit. He’ll live by the stringer code and try and nail you. And if he fails, another will come with two to avenge, then three—well, you know the route.”

Coydt nodded. “I can take anybody head-on in Anchor or Flux, but I don’t want to get backshot by some jerk I can’t even see while walking down an alley or across a street. If this operation wasn’t going along, I’d lay the bait, face it down, then change into new people for Anchor, but it’s important that the others be able to reach me in a hurry. This is damned inconvenient, Yorek. Old Saint Kasdi I figured on, but not some masquerading killer stalking me in Anchor. We’re just going to have to tighten up our guard and keep doing it the way we planned, that’s all. But the first man who works for me who botches the job and doesn’t get killed protecting me will wish he had been killed. You spread the word. Within a year it won’t matter who’s stalking who.”

“You’ve got the best covering you. It won’t be easy for him, whoever he is. In the meantime, we’ll keep digging.”

“Dig him out, Yorek. If you do, we’ll have our fun with him in Flux and settle this whole problem.”