Chaos Mode

CHAPTER 15—HORSE

COLENE found herself in a horse stall, with Nona talking at her. But the words weren’t making sense. Was this another bad vision sponsored by the mind predator, with Nona about to turn into a horse and claim to be Seqiro? Or something more believable but insidious? Such as offering to enter into a mutual suicide pact? Colene had been trying to fight, but the battle had exhausted her, and she knew she couldn’t last much longer.

Then Nona pointed to her head, and Colene realized that she wanted the telepathy. Where was Seqiro? Had something happened to him? If so, Colene hoped that this was a dream, so she could move on to the next horror, and the horse would be safe. So she used her mind. What’s wrong?

Then she got it in a fast summary, and made sense of the situation. This was reality. They had brought her to Seqiro’s Mode, where Seqiro’s enemies held sway, so Seqiro didn’t dare use his telepathy lest it give away his presence here. Colene understood that problem; she had been stunned by another horse here before. They had to hide from the horses here, until the mind predator departed the Virtual Mode.

But what was this about a mind-blasted mare? Quickly Colene got the details from Nona. It seemed a lot like what the mind predator was trying to do to Colene herself. Oh, yes, she would help the mare!

She went to the mare. The horse was in a pitiful state. Her dark coat was soiled, her mane tangled, and her eyes were dull. Every so often she kicked randomly at the side of her stall, and sometimes she banged her head into it. Streaks of blood on her neck suggested prior hangings.

As Colene tried to enter the stall, the mare went wild. She threw herself from side to side, and foam appeared at her mouth. Her eyes were wide and her ears flat back. She was a fair-sized mare, about sixteen hands, much larger than Colene, but she was terrified.

Yet there was no evidence of any injury that was not self-inflicted. No one had been physically brutalizing this horse. She was merely in a nearly mindless state, afraid of any other creature. She was not rational. Her awareness was chaos.

She had, in effect, been raped. Savagely.

Colene could relate well enough to that. She started at the beginning. You are Maresy, she thought firmly. Because nothing remained of the mare’s former personality; she was a frightened foal in a grown body. Like a crashed computer, she had to be restructured, given new organization. She had to be given a new identity, and trained in its ways. Colene had borrowed the name of her imaginary horse from one in an old popular song dating from her grandparents’ days she remembered as Latnzy Divy, which seemed like gibberish until pronounced carefully: “Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy, and a kid’ll eat ivy too. Wouldn’t you?” Later she had learned that the name was spelled Marezy, but in her mind it remained with the s. She couldn’t be responsible for the spelling of prior ages.

The mare had no other source of information. She became Maresy.

I am your friend.

The mare calmed. She was no longer being threatened.

Follow me.

Colene opened the stall and Maresy stepped out. Colene walked toward the other members of the hive. She kept her communications brief, because she wasn’t sure that the other horses couldn’t tune in on her thoughts as well as Seqiro’s. She hoped that her telepathic power was so small that it was beneath the threshold of background mental noise, and therefore invisible at a distance. But she was taking no unnecessary chances. Ignore all others; just stay with me.

Darius nodded approvingly as Colene and Maresy joined them. He had opened the outer gate. But before they left, they had to change clothing. Nona was returning with an armful of it; Seqiro must have explained the need to her before they went through the anchor.

They changed, donning loincloths, capes, sandals, and beanie-type hats with tassels. Colene made sure the tassels fell in the right direction; they were an indication of status, and an error could lead to immediate trouble. Such as proclaiming sexual interest in a stranger one happened to pass on a path. Darius and Nona seemed dubious about the clothing, but Colene donned hers, assuring them that this was in order. So they followed her example.

They walked out and away from the prison complex. There were fields of growing grain, with human laborers. They wore similar costumes, vaguely resembling Chinese coolies. Seqiro, Maresy, and the three humans rated only cursory glances; obviously the horses were taking them on some errand. Now if no horse sought mind contact, they might be home free. For a while.

Who?

The query was imperative, and not friendly. Definitely not Seqiro. Trouble.

Colene caught Darius’ eye. She pointed to her head. He nodded, pointing to his own; he had received it too. It was probably a routine query because someone didn’t know what the party was doing in this vicinity.

They didn’t answer. They walked rapidly for the edge of the cultivated region. With luck there would not be any quick follow-up, and they could reach the wild section before the pursuit began. As Colene understood it, to exert control a horse had either to know the mind of a person or another horse, or know that person’s location. In the wild place, location would be concealed, and the enemy horses would not be able to get a proper fix on strange minds. As long as Seqiro kept mental silence, he remained anonymous, and perhaps almost invisible, in that sense.

Who? This time the query was more insistent.

Still they did not answer. It was better to be anonymous than known, however suspicious that might be. A horse was not supposed to mess with the minions of another horse, and as long as they remained anonymous, they could be taken for such minions.

Then a man appeared at the edge of the field. His tassel was in an unfamiliar position. Colene suspected that he was a minion of the querying horse. He would surely recognize Maresy by sight, and realize that the trap had sprung. He had to be stopped before he made that connection and relayed it mentally to his master.

Colene ran to Burgess, who was floating along between the two horses, shielded from general view by their bodies. She clapped a hand on a contact point. “Burg! Can you shoot that far? Take that man out!”

Burgess lifted his trunk, aimed it, settled to the ground for better purchase, and let fly a single small stone. He had certainly recovered; the stone arced way over the field, and struck the man on the head. He fell.

“Great shot, airhead!” she exclaimed. On Shale the humans had been as effective as the floaters, throwing stones, but this was a shot whose range and accuracy was beyond the power of most humans. Burgess was healthier than normal, thanks to the magnesium. Maybe he was hinging on too much of it, and should ease off. But not right now!

They broke into a run, because now it was obvious that they were not a routine party on routine business. But the workers in the field ignored them; they must be under the direction of horses who weren’t paying attention, or perhaps were working on their own, unmonitored.

They left the field and came to a path leading into a river valley. Seqiro abruptly cut away from this and moved across a sloping fallow field toward a forested mountain. He knew where to go, and did not need to use his mind to show them.

But here Burgess had trouble. The slope and roughness were too great. They had to pause while Nona expanded the artificial path—and Nona spread her hands helplessly. Oh, no! Her magic didn’t work here!

Seqiro cut to the side, finding a contour. Darius took a stick and bashed down weeds and bushes. They made a crude path for Burgess, and the floater was able to use it, slowly.

Men appeared in the field behind. These were definitely minions of a dominant horse. They were armed with clubs and knives and were approaching purposefully. It would not be possible to outrun those, with Burgess so slow, and a beaten path left behind.

Then she had a brighter notion. A river! If there were a river anywhere near, Burgess could float on that, leaving no trail.

Colene went to Seqiro. She signaled him to bring his head down. She put her head to his. River! she thought, in what she hoped was a limited, noninterceptable signal. Burgess—river.

Seqiro’s ears perked. He led the way down into a winding gully. Burgess was able to follow, because of the downslope. At the base was a section of exposed rock, also suitable for the floater. Finally it led to a river, large enough to have a smooth surface. Ideal!

Burgess floated out on the water. The rest of them made their way along the bank. They melted into the increasingly rugged land. Now it would be difficult indeed for the minions of the horses to locate them.

Indeed, the pursuit seemed to peter out. There was no longer a path to follow, and Burgess might as well have ceased to exist, because the horses would have no idea he could use water as a highway. They had escaped.

But they were hardly out of trouble. They had to maintain mental silence, so couldn’t hold much of a dialogue.

Nona could not do magic, so they had to use their own supplies and forage from the land. Getting back to the anchor would be a formidable problem, because the horses would certainly be waiting in ambush there.

Colene knew that the others had come here because of the mind predator’s attack on her. They had taken an awful risk. So now she had to do her part.

Maresy had faithfully followed her, ignoring the others. Seqiro had known they couldn’t leave the mare in the prison stall. It was time to restore her to a fully functional state.

While the others set up camp, Colene tackled the mare. Maresy was a good deal smaller than Seqiro, but still a pretty fine solid horse with good muscle under her matted coat. Her shoulder was four inches above the top of Colene’s head, but not above Nona’s. Colene put her head up against Maresy’s head, so as to fire short-range thoughts into it. She had a mental picture of those thoughts passing through the mare’s head and being largely stifled there, like the sound of a gun with a silencer, so that only unrecognizable fragments radiated out for enemy horses to intercept. Maybe that wasn’t accurate, but it allowed her to use her telepathy to train the mare.

“Maresy. I am your friend Colene. I will not be with you long, but I will help you to be a full horse again. You have been badly hurt in your mind, but you can recover.” If only Colene could recover from her own hurt, and be a true woman to Darius! “First I will check you and brush you and see to your injuries. You must not hurt yourself anymore. You must take care of yourself, and not be afraid.”

Colene got a brush, and worked on Maresy’s coat as she continued talking. Her mental contact with the horse was getting easier, because she was becoming more familiar with Maresy, and because Maresy’s own telepathy was beginning to manifest. Colene thought of the computer analogy, again: a blank disk and blank memory did nothing, but a little bit of programming could enable them to start to help themselves. The power was there, it just had to be structured. Colene did not encourage the mare to use her mind that way, because that could alert the bad horses. She just wanted the mare to listen to her thoughts and understand. What she hoped to do was shape Maresy into the horse Colene had dreamed of, before she met Seqiro, because she knew more about that horse than any other. Maresy was, above all, a competent, self-assured, sensible, nice creature, very good at listening. Just the way Seqiro had turned out to be.

“Let me tell you about Maresy, before you lost your memory,” Colene said, working a burr out of the horse’s mane. “I am an introspective sort. I like to express my thoughts. But sometimes I have trouble writing fast enough to keep my thoughts going in a straight line. I have so much verbal information hit me at once that I can’t write or type fast enough to get it out. And talking just does not work. I can’t talk as fast as I think, but I speak faster than I write. Speaking and talking are different. Talking is two-way; speaking is one-way. Your thoughts get interrupted by the other person when you talk. I get the greatest ideas when I’m just lying there on my bed nearly asleep, letting my thoughts wander. They wander where they will. My thoughts are like my hair: they have a mind of their own. I’ve created whole worlds, then lost the greatest part of my creations when I fell asleep. My shoddy memory just can’t get it right the next day.

“But with Maresy it was always all right. Because Maresy heard and understood everything I said, and didn’t interrupt. Or forget. Just as you are doing now. She was the ideal listener. Sometimes I did write to her, too, and she never chided me for being slow. It was all right with her how much time I took.

“You know, I used to be shy. Then I went from shy to downright antisocial. No one knew, because I pretended I wasn’t. I was always pretty good at fooling people, especially myself. Of course it happened gradually, so I could adjust. I know I’m not truly antisocial because I’m lonely as all hell. If I was antisociety I wouldn’t give a flying dump about the human race. I do give. So I filled the void with a nonhuman pen pal, and that was Maresy. I could tell her anything, and she never told anyone else. She always kept my secrets. I discovered I could not relate to your average run-of-the-mill teenagers. Because when I became a teenager I was neither average nor run-of-the-mill. I was the classic description of still waters run deep. School became for me the root of all evil. I tried to forget it existed. But it was hard to do when I did homework for four hours every night. I never could just skim a chapter then say I’d read it. I was honest to a fault. Honest to the point of not having FUN like a normal person. It got painful to hear other kids laugh. It was more painful to see them kiss. The only romance I had was in romance novels, which I read by the truckload. That was my life: school-work (‘cuz nothing else about the school experience applied to me) and romance novels. I love fantasy, but it’s not plentiful in small-town libraries. Romance, on the other hand, was available from anywhere from a nickel to fifty cents at just about any yard sale in the state. I would buy like twenty or thirty at a time, read them, and trade them. I’ve read so many formula stories I can’t keep most of them straight.

“Of course some of what I read did stand out. There was this hard-core erotic novel an old man in a hospital showed me. Now I know I didn’t understand it at all. If I had, I would have known better than to let four horny freaks get me alone in an apartment. And I couldn’t tell anyone about that, either. Except Maresy. Life sucks. I hate school. I love to learn. This is no paradox. So I learned that honesty doesn’t necessarily pay, and I learned to fool everyone. The funny thing was, I became the life of the crowd. A popular girl. A socialite. But it was all a lie, and I was slicing my wrists in the toilet. Just never had the nerve to go all the way and die. But Maresy understood. She understood how life is one long unending irony. Irony is what I live on. It keeps me going. If you can’t see the humor in your existence any more, at least look for the irony. As far as I was concerned, for a while, it was reason enough to stay alive, just to be able to thumb my nose at existence. By the way, Alive and Exist are as much alike as Talk and Speak.

“You know, I came to feel that ninety per cent of my classmates were plastic. Shallow as a credit card. I discovered that I’m not a herd animal, and never will be. I also discovered that the key to sanity is to take the entire world with a grain of salt. To have a finely tuned sense of the ridiculous. I’m looking for other people who realize that the universe is one big contradiction, and the only true purpose to life is to smell the flowers and hug your friends. Life can be beautiful if you let it. There was this song by Nirvana, ‘It Smells Like Teen Spirit.’ I really liked it, even if the lyrics were senseless. I understand the song got its name from a deodorant commercial, with three or four young women wearing bright but non-threatening clothing with conservative but bouncy shoulder-length hair, glistening smiles, and peppy attitudes. They liked this deodorant because it smelled like teen spirit. The first time I saw that ad I thought, ‘This is the stupidest most patronizing thing to grace the small screen I’ve ever had the misfortune to see.’ I don’t think girls like that exist. They’re like every suburban mother’s fantasy child. Besides, teen spirit, if condensed down to a scent, wouldn’t be peppy, light, bright, and fresh, it’d be dark, angry, clashing, reckless, sexual, wild—despair and exultation in a bottle.”

Colene paused in her monologue. She had gotten the coat nicely brushed out, and the mane untangled. Maresy was looking good, now: a mare whose brown hair matched Colene’s, just as Seqiro’s did. “Am I boring you? You don’t really have to listen to all this, you know. You just have to pick up the way you are from my mind: the perfect mare. I’ve just come out of a siege with a mind predator, and all this horror of my past life has really been freshened up, because that’s what the predator was doing to make me capitulate. But it really helps to have you listen, Maresy.”

Maresy turned her head to nuzzle Colene’s cheek. I understand.

Colene hugged her around the neck. “You’re back, Maresy. Just like before. Only now there are others. They are all your friends.”

She looked around. More time had passed than she had thought. The camp had been made, and the others were eating. “Come on, Maresy. I never introduced you to them.”

She did so. Now Maresy did not shy away at all; she was poised and friendly. Darius patted her, and she did not flinch; Nona offered her a carrot, and she ate it; Burgess lifted a trunk, and she touched it with her nose. Then, surprised, she lowered her nose to touch one of his contact points.

The others stared. Maresy was establishing contact with the floater, his way!

Then she met Seqiro. They sniffed noses. Then Seqiro sent a single, amazed thought to Colene: She has been restored! Without the intercession of another horse.

“All I did was talk to her,” Colene said. “And share my feelings. Just as I used to do with Maresy of Earth.” But she realized it had been more than that. She had projected her mind to the mare, in a continuing stream, and the mare had accepted it and been defined by it. Now Maresy was the horse Colene had loved, because Colene had defined her. It had been, in its way, an act of creation.

Colene went to have her supper. Nona gave Maresy a dish of feed, and she ate it without concern. Then they turned in for the night, this time with two horses eating hay nearby. Seqiro seemed interested in Maresy, perhaps still amazed that Colene had been able to handle the restoration alone. It had been some time since he had had a companion of his own species, and perhaps he had missed it. Colene remembered that horses generally preferred to associate with their own kind, if they had a choice. Had she been depriving Seqiro, all this time?

It was good to be alive, even with mental silence and a language barrier. Colene had thought that it was Seqiro’s mental ambience that made all the difference, but now it was absent, and they were still the hive. With another member, for a while. What more could she ask for?

She reached out to touch Darius’ shoulder. She knew what more. But she just wasn’t ready for that, yet.

IN the morning the news was bad. Darius had been exploring, and had discovered that a formidable party of minions was approaching the wild country. It might be several hundred. He put his head next to Colene’s, so that she could read his image directly, and she saw that it was so. The horse masters intended to locate the fugitives physically, so that mental silence would not allow them to hide any more.

What were they to do? Colene knew that this was a dire strait, because the horses meant only mischief to Seqiro. But there had to be some way out. Colene was normally suicidal, but now she was perversely positive.

She put her head next to Seqiro’s, using her limited-range telepathy instead of his. “Why do they hate you? Aside from your independence?”

I am a potential rival for leadership, because of my size and power of mind. I do not seek it, but the lead stallion does not believe that.

She knew that Seqiro just wanted to explore and learn new things, and have a sweet human girl or two to dote on him without being coerced. He had found exactly that on the Virtual Mode. After seeing the ways of power in the Julia Mode, she had a better understanding. Small, greedy minds did seek power, and believed others were out to take it from them. So this was in that fashion an ordinary situation.

But in that case, all they had to do was satisfy the horses that Seqiro was not going to stay, just as Nona had not stayed in her Mode. “Can you tell them you’re going away again?”

They would believe it a ruse, or that I would return with formidable creatures from other Modes.

Um, yes; paranoia had an evil rationalization for everything, and would not be persuaded of innocence. But something else bothered her. “There must be many rivals for power; why should they be so hot after just this one, Seqiro?”

There are not many. I am the only one who matches Koturo in mind. If he eliminates me, there will be no real threat to his dominance for some time.

Koturo. The lead stallion. That figured. But still she wasn’t satisfied. “Do the other horses support him? I mean, don’t they have some choice in the matter? Maybe some of them would like you better.”

Many would. They would not ordinarily support him in this. But he trumped up a charge against me, so I was confined with my minions while they investigated it. It was a false charge, as they must have discovered, but in the interim I escaped to the Virtual Mode with you.

Okay. So now there should be no charge against him. Yet they were acting as if there were. So a new, worse charge must have been trumped up in his absence. “And I know what that is!” Colene exclaimed. “Maresy! They will be saying that you were the one who mind-blasted her!”

Surely so. It is a serious crime, equivalent to your rape. “But you didn’t do it! She wasn’t there when I came to you, and you couldn’t have done it after you went on the Virtual Mode.”

True. But Koturo will have claimed I did, and his minions will support him.

“Then you can deny it, and your minions will support you! That would make it your word against his. What happens then?”

Then it would be a matter of challenge. But my minions will not support me; they were removed when I was confined. That is how I was confined, because only human minions can operate the mechanisms of the stalls.

“This challenge,” she persisted. “Exactly what happens there?”

When there is a question of honor between two horses, they may be obliged to settle it by mental and physical combat. The presumption is that the one who has the right of the case will prevail.

Colene bore down. “Exactly what kind of combat? I mean, do you try to mind-blast each other? In which case, why bother with anything physical?”

One horse can not readily destroy the mind of another. It is easier to defend than to attack, in this respect. So the minions attack the opponent’s minions physically, supported by their master, and the minions that prevail then attack the other horse physically. If they can injure him sufficiently, or if he is distracted by having to use his mind to try to wrest control of them from the other horse, he may be laid open to an effective mind attack.

“Like chess!” she said. “The king never leaves the board, but if he is trapped, the game is lost. Only the lesser pieces get wiped out. They count only for what they can do to protect their king.”

Your mind indicates a game situation which is parallel to the case here. The losing horse is seldom killed; his mind is restored on another pattern, one which will not be a problem to the winner.

Colene had one more concern. “Seqiro, if you had to fight—could you do it? I mean, not get skunked?”

Ordinarily I could.

“Okay. So all we need to do is prove to the other horses that you have a case, and then you can challenge Koturo. That should set the matter to rights.”

But I lack my minions, and without them I would not be able to prevail.

“Your old minions, maybe. But you have new ones. The four of us. Do we qualify?”

Seqiro was startled. You are not minions. You are free companions.

Colene went to Darius and touched heads. “Would you mind fighting for Seqiro? If it got us out of this mess?”

I am not a fighter, he thought in reply. But I see little hope in the present situation. If this offers a better chance, I would do it.

She went to Nona with die same query. If I had my magic—

“I wish I knew why you don’t. I think it was Seqiro’s ambience that brought your magic to Earth, where magic never worked before. So you should have magic here. But I can’t argue with the fact that you don’t. So it’s just you, yourself. Would you fight for Seqiro?”

I would. But I fear I would be a liability. I am no good with physical weapons, and I lack the fighting spirit you have.

“With Seqiro in your mind, you’ll have it.”

Nona nodded. I will do it.

Colene went to Burgess, grabbing a contact point and describing the situation as well as she could, not sure he could grasp it.

For answer, he fired a stone into a tree, hard.

She returned to Seqiro. “We will be your minions. How do we proceed?”

One of you must go to establish that the charge is in question, and that I wish to challenge. But it means laying one’s whole mind open to the horses, and this is not comfortable.

“I’ll go! It’s my idea.”

Then you must wear your tassel so. He made a mental picture for her to read, showing the position.

Colene explained to the others. Then she set her tassel and marched toward the enemy.

The moment she was alone, she began to doubt. She knew how strong the mental powers of the horses were, and she knew how many guilty little secrets she had hidden in the cluttered recesses of her mind. Was she doing the right thing, or merely bringing disaster upon them all?

But what else was there to do? They would not be able to hide for long, or to resist after they were located. So she went on, trying to quell her nervousness. It couldn’t be worse than the mind predator, after all.

In due course she encountered the first servant. The net was closing in; she had acted none too soon. The man took one look at her tassel, and signaled her to follow him. Soon she stood before a handsome mare. Who?

“I am Colene. Seqiro’s minion. I know he did not blast that mare. He was with me on the Virtual Mode when that happened.” As far as she knew, that was true.

She felt the mare’s mind exploring hers. Language was no problem to the horses; they read thoughts directly. Truth was no problem either; a horse could read a falsehood as readily as a truth, and know it for what it was. Evidently a horse could lie, and make his minions lie, but Seqiro was not protecting her from this verification by the mare. She hoped that her evidence was enough to satisfy this horse that Seqiro had a case.

You have some telepathy of your own! the mare thought, surprised.

“I learned it from Seqiro. Does it matter?”

You restored the mare! Seqiro could not have taught you that.

“I guess maybe I have some talents of my own, and I’m gradually learning how to use them. I do love horses, and maybe that helped. But you can read my mind. You can see that—”

Seqiro has a case. We support his right to challenge Koturo.

Just like that! But of course with telepathic communication, it could be very fast.

The mare turned and walked away. So did the nearby minions.

“But what am I supposed to do?” Colene demanded.

There was no answer. So she shrugged and went back the way she had come.

When she reached Seqiro, and told him what had happened, there was a sudden change. His mind came back, encompassing hers, and all of them were able to understand each other again. We must go to the field, he thought.

“But aren’t there arrangements to make, or anything?” Colene asked. “I mean, they just walked away.”

My right to challenge was granted. They read your mind and saw that my case was valid.

“You mean we don’t have to hide anymore?” Nona asked, relieved.

They reviewed it as they struck camp and walked back down the river to the field that would be the challenge site. A challenge was fair; there would be one horse and four minions on each side, and no other horse or minions would interfere. The winner would have the right of the case. The loser would in effect be dead. The winner would take over the minions of the loser—all of them, not just those participating in the challenge. And that would be it. The only problem was that the minions could get themselves killed during the combat. Even if Seqiro won, one or more members of the hive might be dead. Colene had found a way out of their predicament, but the cost might be suicidally high. Which was perhaps par for her course. The details were arranged by the horses, so rapidly that there was no delay. The combat would occur on the following morning, and probably be done within an hour. Meanwhile, they were free; no one would molest them. It was all very civilized, in a medieval way. They even had the use of several stalls for the night, and could fetch water from a nearby cistern.

Colene expected to be too uptight to eat supper, but she wasn’t; Seqiro made her mind relax. She feared she would be unable to sleep, but she was slumbering before she knew it. Seqiro again. The funny thing was that he did not seem concerned about the event of the morrow. They did not discuss it, or review tactics or anything; they just ignored it. Seqiro and Maresy ambled out to the field to graze.

Then, in her hidden (she hoped) thought, she realized what Seqiro was doing: he was concealing the devious advantages his minions might have. They knew that Colene had some telepathy, but it was so slight compared to that of any of the horses that they surely discounted it. Yet it might enable her to do something on her own, without having to draw from Seqiro’s power. Nona—was it possible that she could find a bit of her magic, when she needed it? That might help a lot. Darius—he was now able to resist the mind control of a horse, which meant that Seqiro might not have to protect him that way. Colene might resist some too, though she had lost her chance to practice when the mind predator attacked. And Burgess was almost immune anyway. So they just might represent a formidable array of minions, freeing Seqiro to act with force where he needed to. They might have a hidden advantage. She hoped.

WHEN she woke, well rested, daylight was firm and servants were arriving in clusters. There were no horses, apart from Seqiro and Maresy—because, Colene realized, they did not need to witness it visually. They could receive it from their minions, sent here for the purpose. They could also tune in on the battling minds of the two participating horses.

There was time for a quick breakfast. Then they took the field without ceremony. It was large, and they were not restricted to it; once commenced, the battle could continue anywhere. But it would not be stopped until there was a victor. It seemed pointless to waste one’s energy fleeing, because that would just give the advantage to the pursuit. There was an array of weapons roughly defining the main arena: clubs, knives, pitchforks, crowbars, and stones. It was apparent that no one would be caught weaponless; there would always be another lying nearby.

Nona gazed at the scene, and shuddered. She had no confidence in her ability to wield any of those implements in attack or defense. Colene marked where the knives were; she wanted to be sure to have one at all times, because she was not afraid to use it. The gravity of the situation was clarifying; this was indeed a deadly serious encounter. Yet could it be worse than getting surrounded and attacked in the forest? Better to have a fighting chance, literally.

Koturo appeared, marching in from a farther pasture. He was a large horse, similar to Seqiro, with a black hide speckled with white patches. He looked mean. He was flanked by four minions: two men and two women. They looked mean too. The five of them took a stance in the center of the field, weaponless, about fifty feet away. It was possible that they could conceal weapons under their capes, but Colene doubted it; the horses had control, and any cheating would be noted.

Seqiro stood in the center of his force, facing the other stallion. Nona and Colene were to his right, opposite the two enemy women. Darius and Burgess were to his left, facing the two men. The horses would have gotten Burgess’ nature and capabilities from Colene’s mind; evidently they felt he was a fair substitute for a human man. There were no rocks in the center, so he was weaponless too. But how was he going to get direction from Seqiro? A person had to touch a contact point to communicate with him, and then it could seem indirect, because of Burgess’ fuzzy notion of self.

The four enemy minions reached up and turned their tassels to combat position. Seqiro’s three humans did the same, acting on a nudge from the horse. The battle was on.

Neither horse moved. Instead the minions moved. One man kept his place, while the other ran to the side toward the weapons. The women did the same, one standing and watching Nona and Colene while the other went for weapons.

Nona gave a savage cry and charged the standing woman. Colene realized that Seqiro was directing her. But Colene herself felt nothing. Not even a mental suggestion.

She glanced across at the men. Darius was standing guard while Burgess floated toward a region of stones. Seeing that, the standing man was starting to advance to intercept the floater, and Darius was starting to intercept the man.

Suddenly Colene put it together: all Koturo’s minions were under his mental control, acting in concert. Some were watching the opposition, while others were fetching weapons. It made sense. But only one was under Seqiro’s control: Nona, who needed it most. Burgess was independent, because neither horse could control him. Darius and Colene were free, because they could be trusted to use their own initiative. Thus Seqiro could concentrate his power more effectively. Because his minions served him willingly, while Koturo’s minions could not be trusted on their own.

Even as she realized this, Colene was launching herself at the woman going for the weapons. A weapon was too great an advantage; the forces had to stay even, at least until her own side could get the advantage.

The woman, seeing her, ran. But Colene had gotten up speed, and gained on her. As the woman bent to sweep up a club, Colene tackled her. They fell among the clubs in a tangle of limbs.

The woman was no patsy. She rolled over, wrestling Colene down with superhuman strength. The horse was doing that—and Colene lacked that support. She realized that this was because it was going to Nona, so she could try to overcome her minionette, but this left Colene in a bad position. Already she was on her back, pinned at the throat while the woman reached for a club. Why did Seqiro think she could handle this tigress on her own?

Because of her own little bit of telepathy. And her suicidal nature.

Colene went to it. She clapped both her hands on the woman’s arm, wrenching it up. It was like moving a branch from a tree, but she did succeed in getting the hand up across her chin as she twisted her neck. Then, quickly, she snapped her head around and bit the hand, hard.

The woman didn’t even react. She continued to grasp for a club with her free hand. Koturo had blocked off her pain! She probably didn’t even realize what Colene was doing.

So Colene chomped down again, as hard as she could. And a third time, gnawing at that hand. She felt gristle and tasted blood as the woman finally got the club and brought it about.

Colene’s teeth had taken their toll. The woman’s hand was no longer able to maintain its purchase, not because of lack of will or strength, but because the tendons had been chewed and the blood made Colene’s face and neck slippery. Colene wrenched her neck free and grabbed for the club. They rolled over, as the woman tried to grasp and hold Colene with her injured hand. The thing about pain was that it warned a person not only of danger, but that an appendage was not up to snuff. This woman still didn’t know that her hand wasn’t working at a hundred per cent. The club came up. That could still finish Colene, even if ineffectively swung. So she focused all her mental energy at the woman and thought: drop it!

The hand opened, letting the club drop. The woman had taken it for a command from her master, and obeyed, though Colene’s own thought could hardly have had strength enough to do it. Score one for surprise.

They rolled again, as the woman grasped for another club. Now they were in a region of knives. The woman reached for one with her injured hand, failed to catch it properly, and for the first time actually looked at her hand. Now she—and her master—realized what had happened. She paused for just a moment.

Colene grabbed a knife, whipped it up, and stabbed it at the woman’s face. To her amazement, she scored. The point of the knife plunged into the woman’s mouth and through to her throat, inside.

Then Colene realized that Seqiro had lent her a moment’s force, guiding her hand with unerring power in that instant of advantage. The woman was dead, or soon would be.

Colene scrambled up, grabbed another knife, and ran back to the knot of bodies that represented Nona and her minionette. They were at an impasse, each controlled by a horse, their special powers canceling each other out. In an ordinary contest, the stronger horse would eventually enable his minions to prevail. But this one wasn’t ordinary. Colene did not hesitate. She came up behind the enemy woman and stabbed for her neck. But the woman twisted aside with an awareness that could only have been that of the horse, and Colene’s thrust caught Nona’s shoulder. Nona did not react; Seqiro had blocked off her pain. But Colene, horrified, jerked the knife back—and again struck with awesome speed and precision, slicing the point across the other woman’s throat. Blood poured out, and the woman lost concentration. Colene used her knee to shove the body to the side, and reached out to help Nona. “I’m so sorry—”

But this was not the time for that. Nona was injured, her cape soaked with fresh blood, and needed healing—and there was only one place for it. She could heal herself in the Virtual Mode, where her magic worked. Where she would be safe. So Colene led Nona away from the battle, to the stalls, where the anchor was. No one interfered; this was all part of the battle.

But Nona herself protested. “You can’t leave the others,” she gasped, spitting out a bit of reddish froth. The stab must have punctured a lung. “You have to help them. I can make my own way.”

Colene knew she was right. The stab was bad, but she was able to walk, and could probably manage to cover the distance before losing too much blood. Triage: she was one of the walking wounded. But others might be killed, if Colene did not get back into the fray immediately. “Go heal yourself—and if we don’t make it, go home.”

Nona nodded. Then Colene turned and ran back to rejoin the battle.

She saw the two enemy women lying where they had been downed. What a vicious fighter Colene had turned out to be, with her favored weapon and Seqiro’s power to guide her at key moments! She knew she should be appalled and sickened, but right now she was on a suicidal high. A berserker, heedless of the carnage.

The males were still battling. Burgess had reached the stones, but the minion had reached Burgess, and was tipping him over. Burgess weighed about four hundred pounds, but the man heaved with superhuman strength, and the floater went over on his top. For the first time she saw his underside, with the gills waving like fine foliage. The man used stones to prop Burgess upside down, then snatched up two clubs and headed back to join the other minion. It was about to be two against one, with the two armed and the one unarmed. That made sense; the man probably didn’t know how to kill Burgess quickly, so saved time by taking him out of circulation while he went after the more dangerous one. Burgess’ mental independence had proved to be no advantage. The enemy horse had figured out how to handle the alien creature.

But Colene was charging across the field while she observed. She would not let Darius fight alone!

Then she felt a nudge in her mind. Just enough to signal her the way Seqiro wanted her to go. Not toward Darius. Toward Burgess.

But Darius could be killed in the seconds she took to try to help Burgess!

Yet despite that, she yielded to the judgment of the horse, and swerved to go to Burgess. She had to trust Seqiro to know his tactical situation best. The two men closed in on Darius, the one tossing a club to the other.

Then the men hesitated. Colene felt the periphery of a terrible mental battle. The two horses were struggling for mental control of the two minions. Koturo had the advantage, because they were his minions, but Seqiro was able to reduce their efficiency so that they staggered and fell before straightening out and stalking Darius. Darius, however, was free to move at full speed. He could disarm one, or run for his own weapon.

But Darius did not. He too staggered and fell. Koturo was trying to take over his body. Then he stood straight, flinging out his arms in a gesture of defiance. He had blocked the enemy horse’s attack! Which meant the home team had taken the advantage, because Koturo was struggling to control three men, while Seqiro could focus on two.

Colene reached Burgess. He was in a sad state, with his trunks flattened under his own weight, his contact points jamming into the turf, and his eye stalks retracted. She swept out the stones propping him, then bent at one side, grasped two contact points, and heaved. He was four times her weight, but Seqiro gave her a flash of strength, and the floater went up and over. He landed with a muffled whomp—because he was frantically pumping air as he came down, cushioning the shock.

Colene grabbed on to two more contact points. “Pump rocks, Burg! We need you!”

The floater extended an eye stalk. Colene saw with horror that the other two had been squashed, and were useless. The third was operative—but the eyeball was unable to travel to its end. He was blind.

“I’ll be your eyes!” Colene cried. She focused on the three men, who were doing an odd dance: Darius was unarmed and fast, the other two armed and slow. Darius could avoid them, but could not disarm one without getting smashed by the other. It was a standoff, for the moment. “Can you see the targets?”

No. Colene’s mental picture was fuzzy for him, so that he could not distinguish one vague shape from another.

“Then let me call out the shots, like a cannon with a surveyed site,” she said. There was a large artillery base near where she lived, so she had picked up a bit about what the big guns did and how they oriented. “Just get these straight: range and direction. Fire where I tell you. But first go to the side for ammunition.”

Burgess pumped more air, and lurched to the side, finding the rocks. His two trunks seemed to be functioning, if slightly squashed. He sucked up a rock and fired it out. It struck the ground not far away, and in the wrong direction.

“Next shot,” Colene said. “Quarter turn to the right, and twice as far.”

The next rock fell near the three men. It was working!

“Next shot: just a bit farther, just a bit left.”

The third rock struck one of the minions on the leg. He did not react; his pain had been blocked. That was fine with Colene. She didn’t want him hurting, she wanted him incapacitated or dead. With no pain, he would not take evasive action. “Next shot: same direction, little bit higher.”

The next rock missed, because the man had moved. But it was right where it belonged.

“Hold it, now,” Colene said. “Fire when I tell you.” She watched the men move. When one minion started to go back to the key spot, Colene called the shot. “Now.”

The rock struck the minion in the head. The man went down, unconscious. Great!

Now Koturo recognized the threat. The remaining minion broke away from Darius and ran toward Burgess, dodging. He would be almost impossible to hit.

But Darius was chasing him. In a moment the two men were locked in hand-to-hand combat, fighting for the club. A rock could hit either one, so was too risky.

Colene thought of something else. “Eighth turn to the right. Double distance. Fire.”

The rock sailed out—and just missed the enemy stallion. The pieces were putting the king in check.

Now Koturo moved. He started toward Burgess. The horse might weigh a ton, literally; he could trample Burgess in short order.

Bur Seqiro also moved, to intercept the enemy stallion. It was going to come to direct physical combat between them.

Colene pondered her course, quickly. With the two horses together, stones were too risky. Darius remained locked with the other minion. But Colene was free.

“Stay here, Burg. You’re out of it, for now.” She let go of his contact points and stood.

She grabbed another knife and ran for the horses. No mind interfered with hers. She saw Seqiro and Koturo squaring off, turning to face each other.

Then the two horses squealed and reared up, striking at each other with their forehooves. Two hooves met with a thud; another struck a shoulder, bashing the flesh so hard that a wide gash opened. Colene wasn’t even sure which horse was hurt; the two were moving so quickly despite their size that her eye hadn’t quite caught the skin color.

It looked like an even battle. All the minions except Colene had been neutralized, one way or another, and she was physically and mentally insignificant. But she was not about to leave the outcome to chance.

She came up to the horses. Each stood higher than her head normally, and when they reared they were twice as high. But she never paused. As the two reared again, she ran in under Koturo and stabbed into his lower belly with her knife, driving it in with both hands.

Suddenly the terrible force of Koturo’s mind smashed into her mind. Colene reeled back, falling, helpless. She was done for, she knew. As she hit the ground, she felt the sledgehammer blow of a killing strike. Then mental fireworks radiated out, and something struck the ground beside her. She waited for death, helpless to move. She had done what she could, and it hadn’t been enough.

Hands came down to touch her. It was a man. She knew she was part of the spoils of the victor; now she would be raped and killed. It hardly seemed to matter. But she forced her eyes open. She wanted at least to see who did it.

It was Darius! He was kneeling beside her, feeling her body for breaks. Could they have won?

Darius helped her sit up. Dazedly she gazed at the scene.

The body beside her was that of Koturo. His belly was gouting gore, but he was oblivious; he was unconscious. Seqiro stood nearby, breathing hard. The victor.

“You distracted Koturo,” Darius said. “He stunned you—and in that instant of his distraction, Seqiro blasted his mind. Seqiro was waiting for that key mistake, knowing what you would do on your own.”

“Gee,” she said, able to think of nothing more cogent.

Then Darius kissed her. She kissed him back, so glad for his presence and his love. Then she passed out.

WHEN she woke, it was a new day. She realized that Seqiro had put her to sleep, and kept her asleep, so that she could recover from the mental bolt she had received, unprotected. It seemed that only that little bit of mental resistance she had practiced, a shadow of what Darius had managed, had saved her from destruction. Koturo had swatted her as he might a fly—but what would have blasted a normal minion had not quite finished her. The horse had used enough of his power to leave him open for Seqiro’s timed, savage counterstrike, and that had done it. She had indeed made it possible, in her suicidal fashion.

Nona had taken Burgess to the Virtual Mode and healed them both there. Burgess now had all three eye stalks back in good working order, and Nona’s lung and shoulder were whole. Seqiro had a bad gash on his shoulder, but that too would heal soon enough. He had won his case, and there was now no charge against him; indeed, he was in a position to assume the leadership of the local equine community. Koturo’s minions had become his.

But Seqiro did not want to be a leader. He wanted to return to the Virtual Mode with the hive. So he was assigning the minions to Maresy, who would now have a good life as a restored horse.

But Colene, suicidal even in her caring, had to raise a point. “Seqiro, you know you aren’t in trouble here, any more. You can stay and not be hassled, and have a good life. Are you sure you want to risk the Virtual Mode again, where you could get killed or stuck in some foreign Mode with poor grazing and no horses with your type of mind?”

On the Virtual Mode I have you.

That was hard to disparage, for a number of reasons. But she tried. “You know I’m headed to Darius’ Mode, to be his love mistress, the moment I can get over my ludicrous fear of sex. There’s just not a whole lot to interest you there, Seqiro.”

I could go with Nona.

“And she would be good for you, too,” Colene agreed. “Your mind and her magic could go far. I would be horribly jealous. But she won’t stay on the Virtual Mode forever either. Neither will Burgess, I think. While here you have Maresy. You have learned the emotions and concerns of free human beings, and Maresy is now patterned after my favorite horse, before I met you. There’s a lot of me in her, now. And you could breed with her, if you wanted. So you could sort of have me and the good life here, without risk. And if we kept the Virtual Mode open, I could come and visit you regularly.”

Seqiro considered. Maresy, nearby, raised her head to gaze at them. Colene knew the mare wanted Seqiro to stay, for she too now understood the human way as well as she understood the equine way. She too loved Seqiro, as Colene did, but with the additional quality of sexual awareness for a stallion of her kind. Maresy, now well, was a fine figure of a female horse, worth a stallion’s attention.

I would like that, Seqiro admitted. But I want to be with you more.

That was it. The hard decision had been made, and Colene had done her duty by giving him the chance to seek his own life. She hugged him.

Then she went to hug Maresy. “What I said to him goes for you too. I will come to visit you. Maybe we all will. We will know the route.”

Thank you, Colene. I love you.

Surely true, because she was what she was. But Maresy could not travel the Virtual Mode. Not without extreme hassle and danger that would not be worth it.

Now at last Colene unwound enough to assess her own feelings. What had she done? She had butchered two women and stabbed the guts of a horse! What kind of a freak was she?

But Darius cut her off with another thought: “How is it that you can fight like that, and not tolerate loving sexual expression?”

Colene’s jaw dropped. She knew it sounded like an ugly taunt, but knew also that it was valid. Surely she could get over her hang-up about the rape, if she truly tried to. She would have to think about it, and come to terms with herself. Meanwhile, her horror of her own actions had been countered; she couldn’t feel properly sick about it until she knew how she felt about the rest. Darius had thrown a block into her horror.

And maybe Seqiro was shoring up her mental balance, too, so that she would not go plunging off the deep end quite yet. Being in the ambience of his mind was like coming into the wonderful warmth of a house, after braving the wintry storm outside. The storm was still there, but it no longer had the power to hurt. Telepathy made all the difference.

That brought her another realization. “Nona! Your magic—could it have worked on Earth because Seqiro connected us to the Virtual Mode, where your magic remained? And Darius could start to do some of his magic, for the same reason?”

“But our magic does not work, here,” Nona reminded her.

“Because this is home to Seqiro. He’s not extending any part of his awareness through the anchor. But if he did—”

Startled, Seqiro extended his mind.

“Now try your magic,” Colene said.

Nona rose up in the air. She flew to the side. A pink cloud appeared over her head, shaping itself into a parasol. A fireball burst in the air to the side. “It’s back!”

Darius brought out the icon of himself. He moved it—and suddenly he was across the field.

“We could have had the magic—if we had realized,” Colene said. “But I guess it worked out okay anyway. We were lucky.”

They agreed that they had been lucky. Perhaps not all of their magic would work in each Mode, but there should be enough to add considerably to their safety and comfort. They would be sure to have all their assets with them, when they came to Darius’ anchor. Nona could join them there with her magic intact.

Buoyed by the discovery, they went to the anchor. Maresy saw them off, sadly. The others stepped through, disappearing. Colene, the last, gave a weak wave to Maresy. Then, with tears in her eyes she stepped through herself.

And the mind predator clamped down on her mind. She screamed as she was drawn helplessly into that dread maw.

In a moment she was out; Darius had simply picked her up and carried her back through the anchor. Now they had a formidable new problem. Instead of departing, the predator had remained to catch her immediately. There was no certainty that a longer wait would be effective. Colene could no longer travel the Virtual Mode.

I will free my anchor, Seqiro thought. That will disrupt the old Virtual Mode and form a new one. It will take the predator some time to reorient. By then you can be at Darius’ Mode, and safe.

Colene knew it was true. It was the practical thing to do. Yet she protested. “But I’ll lose you!” she wailed.

He did not answer. There was no need. Colene herself had just presented the case for him to remain here with Maresy. Now he had a compelling extra reason to do it. She could not turn this down. The alternative was to remain here and let the others travel, and that would cost her everything she wanted from the Virtual Mode. It wasn’t that being here with Maresy would be bad, but that Darius had to return to his Mode, to be the Cyng of Hlahtar, so she would lose him.

She had a choice between her man and her horse. She knew what that meant. The greater good for the hive lay in accepting the horse’s offer. They would lose magic in other anchor Modes, but they weren’t planning to go to any except Darius’ Mode. So maybe it didn’t make a lot of difference.

Colene wept. But all her grief could not change the awful nature of the choice.

She did what she had to do. She finned her resolve and bid farewell to Seqiro. Then she turned to Darius. “Do it.” Darius carried her back onto the Virtual Mode, while Seqiro stood at the stall. Then, as the mind predator clamped down, Seqiro vacated his anchor. “But I’ll still visit you!” Colene cried as the predator was yanked away from her mind. “Your Mode will remain. It just won’t be an anchor Mode. We can cross it for ten feet! And maybe later you can latch on again, and make a new anchor, and we’ll all be together again!” She knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t help it. Yes.

Then his thought faded, for the realities were whirling. It would require a search to locate the Horse Mode, but she would make that search. She just couldn’t give Seqiro up forever.

The whirling stopped. They had a new anchor. Someone from another Mode had latched on in the moment the opportunity had come. There would be a new person, animal, or thing to get acquainted with. Someone who was desperate to travel the Virtual Mode.

The outline of a palatial chamber formed. Within it stood three human figures with the faces of cats. One was robustly masculine; one was lusciously feminine; the third was neuter.

“Oh, no!” Colene cried. For she recognized them. These were the three feline Nulls who had served Darius in the DoOon Mode: Tom, Pussy, and Cat. Now, obviously, they would be serving the evil Emperor Ddwng, who wanted to get Darius’ Chip so he could use it to take over all the alternate Modes. The three of them, cloned from a single zygote, were the new anchor figures.

Before, Colene had tricked the Emperor into vacating his anchor, by having Seqiro send him a forceful thought to that effect. But this time Seqiro was not here.

There was going to be hell to pay.