Key to Survival

Chapter 2 Plant

Gale glanced around. She was alone in the bedroom, because Havoc was traveling with the "fifth" girl, to be sure she made it safely to her assignment. She would surely be his no fault mistress before that was done.

Meanwhile Gale was antsy; she didn't like sleeping alone, even after twenty two years of marriage.

Then she felt it: a faint summons from a plant. Not a familiar one; this was different. It needed her attention.

She got up, used the toilet facilities, and dressed quickly. Then she went to wake Vila.

But the girl was already up. "Mommy! There's a plant!"

Gale paused a moment. She and Havoc had adopted their first three children, now grown, and then had a natural one, Voila, now also grown and the most potent Glamor ever. Suffering a siege of empty nest syndrome, they had decided to have another, and that was Vila, her name nowhere near the simplified form of their first natural child that others assumed. Vila was no Glamor, but she was every bit her own person, even at age five.

Gale gazed at her daughter. Vila had a very fair complexion and curly reddish-brown hair that fell all the way to her feet. She looked exactly like the vila of folklore, a magic wood spirit who protected trees, streams, springs, plants, animals, and children. The mythological vily (the plural form) were bound to particular trees, though they did not have to stay close to them. Vila had her own tree, that Havoc had found for her, and it really did protect her. Influenced by her parents, who were the Glamors of Trees and of Moss and Lichen, Vila had a close affinity. So perhaps it was not surprising that she had picked up on the distant plant that had wakened Gale.

"You think too long, mommy," Vila said, frowning cutely. "We need to fetch it now."

"Agreement." She picked up the child and conjured them to the region where the plant was. This turned out to be near the edge of a Green Chroma zone. Everything was shades of green, no other colors, apart from themselves. It was an uninhabited region, but the environment was magic. "Caution," she said, setting Vila down. "Stay close."

"Acquiescence," Vila agreed. She knew better than to get willful in a Chroma zone. She pointed. "There."

She had located the plant before Gale did! The girl did carry Gale's ikon, and that gave her some Glamor-like qualities. And of course she had been raised in the ambiance of two plant-connected Glamors.

They walked to the plant. It was hardly more than a seedling, a thin stem with a single cup-shaped green leaf that oriented on them. Some plants did that, but Gale knew this was no ordinary plant. It was alien to her experience—and her experience with plants was second only to Havoc's.

"Daddy will know," Vila said confidently.

"We will take it to him." Gale conjured a suitable pot, then dug in the earth around the plant, excavating a ball of soil that included the plant. She lifted it into the pot.

"It likes us," Vila said.

"Confirmation." But Gale didn't quite trust this. The plant had signaled her and her daughter, and it was different from all others. She needed to consult with Havoc, privately. But Havoc was occupied elsewhere, with the special girl.

She hesitated.

"Take us to Figment," Vila suggested.

Gale had forgotten to shield her thoughts, and the girl had read them. She was telepathic, and they had trained her in thought shielding from the outset. But there was seldom occasion for secrets between them. "Acquiescence."

She conjured them to Figment. This was a huge old strangler fig tree, a deadly menace to most living creatures, but the perfect hideout for the precocious child. The tree's flowers emitted intoxicating fumes that caused passing animals to lose caution and stray too close. Then special branches descended to haul the creatures into the foliage, where they were slowly consumed. People normally remained well clear. But Havoc, the Glamor of Trees, had befriended the fig, and arranged for it to shelter Vila. It was about as safe a place as she could be, apart from Triumph City itself.

"Hi Figment!" Vila called gladly. "I love you!"

She surely did. The central bower was always warm and comfortable, and the figs were delicious. The spreading branches offered numerous foliage-shielded vantages from which the child could peek out without being seen from outside. There was a comfortable natural mat to sleep on, and she could tune in on nearby minds. This afforded her a considerable education, especially when unsuspecting local residents had quarrels or romances.

"I will return soon, or send Aura," Gale said. "I must take the plant with me. Regret."

"Regret," Vila echoed. But she understood that her mother would not let her be alone with anything she did not properly understand. "Send Aura."

Gale smiled, kissed her, then took the plant and conjured herself to her suite at Triumph City. Aura, she called mentally as she set down the pot.

Hastening, the woman responded in kind. Aura was Vila's regular baby sitter, a fully competent and responsible Blue Chroma woman they had known for decades. Her specialty was animals, and she always had interesting animal stories.

"Vila's in Figment," Gale said as the woman appeared. She was of course completely blue from hair to feet. "I must consult with Havoc about this plant. It should not take long, once I catch him. He's traveling with a teen village girl."

"Comprehension," Aura said with half a smile. Havoc's way with village girls was notorious.

Gale took her hand and conjured them both to Figment. She let go and returned to Triumph, knowing that Aura would handle Vila as long as necessary. Aura was one of the few the tree had been taught to tolerate.

Now Gale reached out with her mind to intercept Havoc's mind. Curiosity. Plant. Advice.

Busy, his returning thought came.

She looked into his mind. You made an Oath of Brotherhood to a teen village girl? You'll never get into her pants that way.

Not this trip, he agreed ruefully.

Arrange a five minute break so you can use my senses.

Your pants are too far away to get into at the moment.

Havoc, she thought warningly.

Five minute break it is, he agreed quickly. They teased each other endlessly about his sexual appetite and her supposed lack of it; it helped keep the fires of their passion strong. But at the moment she needed something other than his sexual input.

Soon he had it arranged, and came to occupy her mind. He absorbed what she knew about this new little plant. Then he took over her eyes and fingers, examining on it. He was the Glamor of Trees and plants; there was little he would be unable to fathom about this one.

He looked intensely at it, then touched the fringe of its little cup. The plant's cusp oriented on him, following his movements. It knew he was a different person.

She felt his surprise. It's an alien ikon!

It's a plant, she reminded him.

Sent by an alien culture to contact us. Soon it will give you its home address. You must go there and ascertain the nature of its culture and its business with us.

Then he was gone from her mind, leaving her amazed. This little plant was an ikon from a distant planet? They had never before encountered such a thing. All Planet Charm ikons were inanimate, though they had special effects on those who carried them. Yet Havoc was in a position to know.

Now she did what she had not thought to do before: she studied the near-future paths of the plant. And was amazed again. A normal plant remained where it grew, affecting things in its immediate vicinity, so its paths were limited and self-similar. This one was a complex network of paths that interlocked in a bewildering pattern. She was unable to fathom its complete destiny.

Which of course was part of the nature of an ikon. It gathered magic power and transmitted it to its Glamor. It could not be touched by any Glamor. That was why ikons were either hidden away carefully, or carried by trusted mortal people. Their influence was normally subtle but potent.

This was a living ikon, but surely did have a connection to its Glamor. It probably would affect those it was physically close to. It could be touched physically, but perhaps not magically, and its true future was obscure. So it manifested its properties in different ways. Because it was alien. Just as Earth ikons were people, who could be touched by Glamors, this alien culture's ikons were plants.

Indeed, she would have to visit its source culture. Soon. She oriented again on the plant.

Where?

The plant indicated a location: the spot where its Glamor existed. It was in a distant star system, one with which they had had no prior contact. With that address, Gale could travel there by wormhole, needing only the route that was the connection between the ikon and its Glamor.

But should she? Such a trip would be complicated. For one thing, she would have to take Vila along, to bring her ikon there, and that would put her daughter at serious risk. Gale herself could handle almost anything, being an experienced Glamor, but Vila was not a Glamor, and of course lacked experience. It would also take her away from Charm at a time when they were trying to prepare for the looming siege of the machine culture. Such a diversion was not wise.

Yet she was tempted. This appeared to be a genuine alien contact, their first beyond their own stellar system. At any other time it would be welcome. They knew that other stellar cultures existed, because Mino had records indicating that the machines were systematically conquering and abolishing them. Idyll Ifrit also had records of alien cultures.

They just hadn't made direct contact.

"I need advice," she said aloud. Then she snapped her fingers. "Voila."

Her first natural daughter appeared, a moderately pretty brown-haired woman of 21, instantly grasping the situation. "Safe. Relevant," she said. "But verify with Idyll." She left.

"Appreciation," Gale said belatedly. Voila was busy, of course; she didn't mean to be abrupt. Few would know by looking at Voila that she was essentially running the human culture's effort to repel the machine invasion, and that was the way she preferred it. Gale could see a bit of the near future paths, but Voila could see them much farther and clearer. The official ranges were that the near future was one second to one hour, the intermediate future one hour to one month, and the far future one month through the end of time. Gale could see as far as five minutes, while Voila could see through the hour. So though they were both near-future seers, there was a significant difference in their abilities. That was why Gale and the other Glamors deferred to Voila in matters of strategy and safety.

Idyll could see the intermediate future, and the machines could see the far future. The spans of time differed enormously, but the three types of seeing were actually equivalent, because decisions of the present had overwhelming impact on the future. What a person did in ten seconds could change the course of events for the hour and beyond. The key was to fathom the impact of specific actions, so as to know and avoid the dangerous ones.

In one second a person could stick her thumb on a thorn, and the pain might fade within a minute, so a glimpse at one hour later might show no change. But if that thorn were poisoned, it might take a day for the mischief to manifest, so the clearance of the near future was no guarantee. The intermediate future could catch most such things, however. That was why Voila had told her to go to Idyll. It wasn't any lack of competence or courtesy; it was a necessary check.

Gale picked up the plant and conjured herself to Counter Charm. She arrived in the reception glade of Idyll Ifrit, the first non-human, non-animal Glamor they had encountered. Millennia old Idyll had become young Voila's closest associate, and a key player in the siege effort.

There was a swirl as an illusion figure formed. Idyll's specialty was illusion, and she was phenomenal. The glade, its surrounding forest, and all else in this section of the planet were part of her illusion fields. But Idyll herself was real, though seldom with any physical body. "Welcome, friend," the image said, coalescing to human woman aspect.

Gale opened her mind and held up the potted plant. "Question."

The ifrit examined the situation, and applied her ability to see the intermediate future paths.

"Safe," Idyll concluded. "For you and Vila."

"Appreciation."

"Significance."

"Agreement." But there was a problem. "Normally we need ikons at each end to safely travel between stars."

"The alien plant ikon connects to its Glamor," Idyll said. "As her guest you can make that first journey. You can leave a duplicate ikon for visits thereafter."

So she could. But still she was nervous. "Favor." She put her request uppermost in her mind.

"Privilege."

Then an imprint of the ifrit formed in her mind, like a second personality. Idyll was joining her, lending her considerable consciousness and perception to Gale's body. That made her feel far more competent.

The two women hugged. They were of totally different kinds, flesh and demon, but they were friends who completely trusted each other. Voila had spent much time with Idyll when growing up, and Vila was doing so now.

Idyll had much to teach, and she was great company. And now, as they separated physically, they remained together mentally. That was very reassuring for Gale; she trusted Idyll's competence beyond her own in dealing with aliens.

Gale conjured herself directly to Figment. Aura and Vila were there, of course, discussing animals. They had even half-tamed a six-legged squirrel that lived in the foliage of the tree. The creature quickly vacated when strangers appeared.

"Appreciation," Gale said to Aura. "Now Vila and I must travel far."

"Question?" Aura inquired.

"To a new culture, in a new star system," Gale explained. "Idyll is with me."

"Approval."

Gale picked Vila up, and took Aura's hand. She conjured them to Triumph. She thanked Aura, who departed.

Then, to Vila: "Dress in travel clothes, and carry a nonChroma stone. We don't know what we'll encounter."

The girl obeyed without hesitation.

"And fetch a duplicate ikon."

Vila went to the hidden box where Gale kept several copies of her ikon. She lifted the little metallic figure of a ball of moss. "Question?"

Gale considered briefly. "Yes, swallow it. That will be the one you keep, at least until we return."

The child wrapped the ikon in a wad of bread and swallowed it. It would remain in her system several days, and she would not allow it to be lost with her wastes. She would wash it off and swallow it again if need be. Her regular ikon remained bound out of sight in her hair. It did not matter where on her or in her the ikon was, or that there were now two of them; what counted was that as long as they were in a nonChroma zone, they would transmit power to Gale. If there were no nonChroma zones where they traveled, she would have to depend on the Chroma stones. They would do; otherwise the near and intermediate future paths would not be clear.

A glamor could not touch her own ikon, or any other Glamor's ikon; that was why the ikons had to be carried by trusted normal folk, or securely hidden. But a Glamor could touch or transport the person holding an ikon, so long as that ikon never touched the Glamor's flesh. Gale thought of it as being like a burning hot pan: the bare hand could not touch it, but a potholder could be used to carry it. Vila was in that sense a potholder; she carried the ikon and Gale carried her. The girl understood the way of it, and also knew the benefits the ikon bequeathed her, making her healthier, smarter, and in due course as she matured, sexier. Ikons protected themselves by enhancing their bearers. It was a nice deal, provided the bearers did not try to stop bearing them.

"The plant is an alien ikon," Gale said. "It anchors this site. We well go to its Glamor. I do not know what to expect, except that it is safe."

"It's a plant Glamor," Vila said.

"How do you know that?"

"The plant told me."

Gale did not question this. Her daughter had perceptions others lacked, perhaps because of Gale's ikon.

Maybe one ikon could understand another ikon.

They went to the front office. "Ennui, we are going to a far star to visit a plant culture," Gale said. "We hope to return soon."

Ennui was Havoc's oath friend, the one he trusted before all others. She handled this astonishing news as if it were routine. "Will you need to be covered?"

"That's probably best, if we are gone long." For Gale was the Queen, and her prolonged absence would be noted.

She had a double to take her place, a loyal mortal woman who looked very much like her, by no coincidence, and who enjoyed taking Havoc to bed when it was in the line of that duty. Sometimes Havoc teased Gale that the double was more fun than she was. But then Gale teased him back about the sexual prowess of his double, when Gale bedded him.

"Please check in when you return," Ennui said. This was not mere concern; she needed to know where the primary figures of the planet were at all times, in case of emergency. Ennui was now in her sixties and ready to retire, but was determined to see the Third Crisis through first.

"Agreement. There is a small potted plant in my chamber. Water it if need be, but do not move it or allow it to be disturbed."

Again the woman accepted this without question. "Agreement." Ennui was thoroughly competent.

They returned to the chamber. Gale placed the plant in a windowed alcove so that sunlight could find it for much of the day. She picked Vila up, kissed her, and invoked the travel line.

Immediately they were caught up in the swirl of ether travel. This was a matter of conjuring the bodies to the wormhole the line led to, then conjuring through that hole. It was the same system that spaceships used, except that individuals could use smaller and closer wormholes. Wormholes were spots where the underlying fabric of the universe—the ether—was warped to the point that a cyst formed between adjacent convolutions, a kind of black hole, and passing through that aperture took a ship or person to a quite different and distant part of space. Because matter was responsible for the warping of the ether, and a galaxy was a collection of matter, wormholes generally connected spots that were not too distant from each other, astronomically: the same section of the galaxy. So their destination was probably within a hundred light years or so. It would still have been extremely awkward to travel that distance through normal space at under light speed. Wormholes facilitated virtually instant travel, once their locations and connections were zeroed in.

Wormholes made Gale nervous, but she suppressed that and entered this one. After all, it wasn't random; the plant's lifeline passed trough it. This was a mapped route. But who had done the mapping?

You think too much, Idyll said in her mind. The paths are safe.

There was the problem: the path was not safe as far as Gale could fathom. It was unfinished, and that made her wary. Taking it was like jumping off a ledge without seeing the landing: it might be right underfoot, or an awesome distance down. But that simply meant that the path extended beyond five minutes into the future. Idyll could follow it much farther, and thus could fathom its safe conclusion. "Appreciation."

The terminal of the wormhole was by a stellar cluster Gale didn't recognize. That meant they were probably more than ten light years distant from home. There seemed to be no close stellar system. Had they been led astray?

It's a link, Idyll said reassuringly. There will be another wormhole.

"Why have links, when a single wormhole can do it more efficiently?"

That is beyond my fathoming, but I sense there is valid reason.

Gale conjured them along the line to the next wormhole. They went through it. This time there was an adjacent system. She conjured them to the end of the line.

In a moment they were on another world, standing knee-deep in dry grass and twigs. There were a number of scorched trunks, and mounds of ashes. There had been a devastating fire here not very long before, and the accumulation of tinder promised another fire soon. This was the source of the line? Yet it was obviously a habitable world, with comfortable gravity and air she could readily breathe. That was not surprising, since the plant that had summoned her was thriving in Charm's air.

Vila wriggled, and Gale set her down. "Caution," she murmured.

"It's safe," the child assured her. "Idyll told me." She ran forward to where a small green plant sprouted from the ash. She put forth one hand to touch it.

"Caution!" Gale repeated sharply.

"Safe!" Vila repeated. "Mommy, come talk!" She ran on to the edge of the burned region, where plants grew thickly.

Alarmed, Gale followed, for the moment heedless of Idyll's reassurance. In moments she found herself within a green mass of foliage. Now her own path perception showed her that they were, indeed, safe. These were friendly plants.

"Greeting," Gale said uncertainly. She had a strong affinity for plants, but she knew immediately that these were completely alien to her experience.

A nearby shrub extended a tendril. Gale put her hand slowly to meet it. They touched. Gale knew immediately it was another Glamor.

"Greeting," the plant thought in a voice that Gale's brain translated to the word.

"I am Gale, of Planet Charm," Gale said. "I received your ikon emissary, and followed its line here. This is my child, Vila."

Vila put out her hand, and a second tendril extended to touch it. "Sure," she said. "I just met your sprout."

Then, to Gale: "I'm going to their nursery. You have business here you don't want to scare me with."

She did? Gale wasn't certain about letting the two of them separate.

It is all right, Idyll thought, once again reassuring her. The future paths are safe.

And the ifrit could see farther ahead than Gale could. "Don't get lost," she cautioned, setting Vila down. "I'd be annoyed for a whole minute if I lost you."

"Two minutes," Vila said, laughing. She ran off, weaving between tall plants.

Gale resumed contact with the tendril. "What is this scary business we have?"

"You know the machine culture means to destroy your human culture," the plant said. "And ours following yours. We need to coordinate to save ourselves from destruction."

"Agreement. But as yet we hardly know each other. There may be problems."

"Question?" Again it was Gale's mind interpreting the thought as familiar dialogue.

"We eat many plants, and use parts of others to build our houses. You may regard us an an enemy species."

"We have animals here too. Some of them eat us—and we eat some of them. This is the natural interaction."

"Then by all means let's talk."

"You have qualities that will benefit us, such as the ability to move across terrain and between planets. We have qualities that will benefit you. But to work efficiently together, we must achieve a working temporary symbiosis."

Suddenly Gale felt more competent. Not only was her specialty of lichen a symbiosis between algae and fungus, her relationship with Idyll was another type of symbiosis. "This may be feasible," she said.

"It can best be facilitated by interpersonal passion," the plant said. "Are you amenable?"

"Sexual passion?" Gale asked cautiously.

"Explanation: originally our sexuality was purely for reproduction, but as we became sapient, we used it also for the communication of larger intellectual concepts. Now we transmit more information than genetic templates. The pleasure of sexual expression encourages us to continue expanding our thought framework. We owe much of our sapience to it."

Just as human sex had become a tool for social interaction, leading to larger societies, Gale realized. There was a parallel. But also a problem: "We are not of like species.

"We use it also to attract useful animals. We can emulate your form."

"Needless," Gale said, distrusting this. "I will accommodate to your form, or we can both compromise to make it feasible."

"Agreement. Here is my flower." A curtain of leaves shifted to reveal an enormous flower resting on the ground.

The petals formed a boat-like framework, in the center of which projected its stamen, or pollen bearing organ. It was about the size of a large erect human penis, glistening with sap-like moisture.

Guided by the paths, Gale removed her clothing, stepped into the flower, squatted, then fitted the anther on the stamen to her cleft and eased herself down. The anther was larger than the head of a human penis, but rounded and smooth, and the moisture was indeed a lubricant, making the slow penetration feasible. Once it was in, she straightened out her legs, sitting with the stamen fully embedded. It was cool but sufficient, distending her channel somewhat but hardly uncomfortably. As sex went, this was minimal, apart from the size of it; she had toyed with Havoc and other men similarly on many occasions, letting them take their time to work up to their climax. Once she had even playfully read a book while waiting, as if bored, causing Havoc to spurt with such force it made her drop the book. "Your turn," she said.

The stamen warmed, swelled, and erupted. This was its climax, not hers, but she attuned telepathically to its urgent pleasure, sharing it. As sex, it was no longer minimal; this was a vast and comprehensive pleasure. Suddenly she had a figurative and halfway literal bellyful. A huge transmission of information entered her vagina and spread into her body. Idyll quickly focused on it and organized it to be intelligible. Even so, it took Gale a while to assimilate it, but as she did, she was increasingly amazed.

First were the routine details. This was Planet Plant, named eons before thought of alien contact. The burned out region was a trap set for hostile visitors, as the plants could not know ahead what manner of creature would answer the call. If a dangerous, treacherous, or hostile entity appeared, it would be destroyed in a flash fire. That, plus the deliberately indirect line connecting the ikon, was their main protection. Why were such precautions necessary?

Friendly space-faring cultures had taken myriad spores and spread them through neighboring regions where other living cultures existed. They had sent the spores to occupied planets in protective casings that dissolved on impact, allowing the seeds to sprout and grow in the available soil. The deliverers had made no effort to contact those cultures; that was highly risky, as cultures were suspicious of alien craft, and some were in league with the machines. They had delivered and departed immediately. Gale's plant was one such, perhaps the only one to get established on her planet.

It had sprouted, grown, established itself, then executed its primary mission: to contact a Glamor of Symbiosis, or the closest thing to it. That, as it had turned out, was Gale. But it could have been intercepted by a negative respondent who came with conquest or worse in mind. The moment they saw that Gale had brought her sprout—her child—they knew that she was legitimate. So they had established contact, first with the child, then with her.

There was a pause, or perhaps Gale paused, preferring to intersperse the huge inflow of information with some personal dialogue. "You do not see the future paths?"

"This concept is unfamiliar to us."

Gale realized that this made sense. The Glamors had not been able to see the future paths until Voila, then a baby, had discovered the ability and taught them. This had enabled them to defeat Mino, the machine culture scout, and enlist him on their side. It could be sheer wild chance that enabled such a discovery to be made, by any culture.

"Perhaps we can teach you this ability. It greatly facilitates personal safety. Without it I would not have dared visit an alien culture such as yours."

"Understanding. The risks are mutual."

"How long have you known of the machines?"

"Millennia," the plant answered. Its mind—it was, in the manner of many plants, bi-sexual, with both male and female flowers—was separate from the pollen-borne package of data. "We did not know whether you knew of them, until this dialogue. They are our common enemy."

"Agreement. We learned of them by discovering one of their minions, an exploratory mining unit that surveyed our planets as prospects for exploitation. We subdued it and learned its nature. Now it works for us."

"Do not trust it!"

"We were cautious, but we do trust it. Or did, until this crisis loomed. Now we use it only to study the nature of the machines, and to gain an insight into the far future. We are able to read the near and intermediate future; it is limited to the far future."

"The machines, as the information you are receiving will clarify, are enemies to the whole galaxy. They are systematically conquering and destroying all living cultures. Our only hope for survival is to form a league to oppose them. Even so, the odds are against us, but it is all we have."

"Our understanding of the machines is that your culture and ours would be vastly insufficient to stop the machines."

"Agreement. But we are not alone. The league already exists, consisting of thousands of living cultures. You will join us. Perhaps such a force will be sufficient."

Now the details on that were infusing Gale's awareness. It was true: there was an enormous network of living cultures, united by the common threat. The same threat the humans faced. The machines had been expanding their domain for thousands of years, on their way to achieving galactic dominance. The entire human culture was merely a blip on their screen, one more minor detail to handle.

"Negation," the plant said. "You are not a mere blip. There is something they want from you. They want it very much. Perhaps even enough to spare your culture in exchange for it. So you may be able to bargain."

"What is it?" Gale asked, perplexed.

"We do not know. Only that news has spread that the thing they want most in the galaxy is in your sector of space. We are very glad to have established contact with you."

"And if we give them this thing, whatever it is," Gale said carefully, "and they spare us—what then of you and the other living cultures?"

"We are doomed."

"Then how can you afford to trust us? We could bargain for ourselves and let you go."

"You are not that type."

"You know this, with only this present contact between us?"

"We know this because we have been receiving information about you while delivering ours to you. You are a leader of your species, and you will never betray a friend."

"But I am not your friend! I just arrived here."

"You are our friend, and your culture will be our culture's friend. We lack this future path awareness you have, but we have a general awareness of your nature." There was a twinge of the stamen within her, reminding her of the intimacy of their association. If they were receiving any portion of the mass of information they were sending her, they did know her well enough.

"We know you are in temporary symbiosis with a demon Glamor," the plant said.

They found me, Idyll thought. Those paths were obscure, and I was remaining quiescent, but they are able to fathom essential natures.

"So it seems we can trust each other," Gale said. "But I will have to share your information with others of my culture, and they will decide what to do."

"You will have specific data on all the other cultures, so that you can contact them and coordinate with them. Your assimilation will significantly enhance our effort."

"All the other living galactic cultures?" Gale asked, astonished. "But how can they trust us not to betray them?"

"It is not your nature. But it does not matter. If you give the machines what they want, all of our efforts will fail and we will be exterminated. If you do not, then you will have to oppose the machines, and your only hope will be with our league."

"It does matter!" Gale protested.

They are right, Idyll thought. Only that thing the machines want really counts. The intermediate paths are confirming this, and surely the far future paths are certain. That is why the machines want it. If we deny the machines, we will have to support the league of life completely.

So it seemed. "I think I have absorbed my limit," Gale said.

"It is done," the plant agreed.

Gale carefully lifted herself off the stamen, which was now somewhat limp, its informational pollen expended.

She worked the bulbous anther out. Her center of being was warm with the thought substance radiating from her vagina into the rest of her body. This had been a sexual experience like none other, if that was what it was.

"Appreciation," she said. That was a complex understatement. She remained in physical contact with the plant, because her bare feet were standing on its petals. That maintained their avenue of communication.

"We can help you further, perhaps in exchange for the considerable favor of your information about the future paths."

"Question?"

"Explanation: we connect to each other via our root systems. All relevant plants on the planet are receiving the essence of our contact."

"This is telepathy?"

"Negation. Merely root contact. But the network is planetary"

"Then why bother with the pollen package? You could have read my mind for them all."

"Negation," the plant repeated. "The roots are for establishing territories, sharing water and nutrients, and relaying general news of weather and animal presence. They are crude compared to the pollen packets. But they do enable us to do some useful things."

"Question?"

"We can perform with numbers. Each individual plant is weak, but linked plants are stronger, and a planetary network can be quite powerful."

"Confusion. Relevance?"

"You can read the future paths. We understand, from your mind, that these soon diverge widely, extending beyond your ability to follow. This is why your perception is limited. But a simple matter of calculation can enhance your ability. This could be useful."

Gale was not at all sure that was the case. But Idyll was intrigued. This is worth exploring.

"Interest," Gale said. "Demonstration?"

"Network is focusing. Present a problem."

Gale concentrated on the near future paths. What did they portend for the outcome here?

Then she felt the gathering power of the planetary network. Her perception clarified. Now she could see the paths for the next ten to fifteen minutes, tripling her normal ability. There was no question; she was sure.

Truly intriguing, Idyll thought. I am seeing three months ahead.

Now the relevance was absolutely clear. "Point made," she said. "This is useful." She had not before realized that it was brain power rather than magic perception that governed the limits of the future paths. This could make a huge difference, for the ability to read those paths was crucial in any battle with the machines.

Vila returned. "Time to go home," she said. "I love the plant nursery. I want to visit again."

"Did the plants invite you?" As if this were an ordinary event.

"We did," the plant said. "Our saplings enjoyed her company. She has had experiences beyond their prior imagination." Evidently the root network had kept the plant in touch while Gale was doing her business with it.

"We'll visit again," Gale said. "Now I must return to report to my culture."

"Agreement. You have much to tell its representatives."

She did indeed. "Appreciation."

"Welcome."

Gale put on her shoes, losing the mental contact. She picked up Vila, and focused on the return trip.

"I put the ikon in a safe hole in the ground," the girl murmured. "The plants know its nature and will protect it."

"Appreciation, dear." Gale had forgotten that detail, uncharacteristically. Now she was assured of retaining her powers here, for this was a nonChroma region, and maybe a nonChroma world.

No—an independent Chroma world, for the sprout that had reached them on Charm had flourished both in the Green Chroma zone and in the nonChroma zone. Was that feasible?

It seems so, Idyll agreed. Each system seems to have its own Chroma rules. The plant we communicated with was certainly a Glamor.

"Marvel," Gale murmured. She launched them along the line. They were on their way home.

She realized, almost belatedly, that they had just achieved mankind's first contact with a distant alien culture.

The details of its nature hardly seemed to matter at the moment. The impact on human history would be phenomenal.

We have indeed, Idyll agreed. It will indeed.