Riders Of The Winds

by Jack L. Chalker

  The Emerald Sanitarium of Oz.

  The baths were quite nice; natural bubbling hot springs were allowed to flow into chambers. It was sort of like a nature-made hot tub and it really helped the aches and pains. Then clear water rinsed you, and you felt both clean and relaxed, although if you stayed in the bubbling mineral baths too long you had the muscle control of a wet noodle.

  When she got back up to the rooms she found Rani and Sheka there, and she had to confess to herself that she was somewhat relieved they had indeed been out doing just what Avala said they were doing. They had seen the "examiners"— no big deal, Sheka assured Sam—and then they had been taken in tow by some girls their own age and shown around some of the outside of the place and even played and got to be kids again for just a little while. They were quite happy about it, although Rani let slip that they had thrown a fit when the first set of examiners had been men and that women were then substituted. "I just—can't—let a grown-up man touch me," Rani said, a little apologetically. "I knew that all the men we saw today were just being nice or polite, but I just couldn't handle it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I just keep seeing those— those—animals."

  "Me, too," Sheka agreed. "One of these days I'm gonna find a place with no boys at all, not even tomcats or stallions, and no freaks, neither, and that's where I'm gonna live!"

  Sam sighed. "I know it was tough and I know it's going to take a long time to learn to live with it, but you both know that those evil men who did that to us weren't normal men. They were vicious, no better than animals, and they got what they deserved. And you're also going to have to learn that these 'freaks' are just people who had something bad happen to them, something they could no more control than catching a cold, only lots worse."

  "That's all funny, comin' from you," Sheka said acidly.

  Sam stiffened. "What do you mean by that?"

  "Well, I never saw you makin' friends with no men, and you're something of a freak yourself. I mean, you didn't just live with a girl, you married her."

  Now what the hell do you say? "You're a little young to explain that, but don't think I don't like some men—nice men—or won't in the future. I may not want to have a romance with them, but I don't want a romance with most women, either. It's normal to be a little afraid right now. These are all strangers, men and women alike. I admit I might be a little nervous for quite a while alone walking down a street with strange men about, but I'll do it because I have to. And don't forget their leader was a woman."

  "A damned changeling freak!" the girl retorted. "Like the ones crawling all over this place. I don't think I'll feel better until we're out of here."

  "Well, you'd better get used to it and make the best of it, because we're stuck here until they can make arrangements to get us not only away from here but safely out of Kudaan. I asked about it and they are generally supplied by a caravan that comes through every week to ten days, and one was here only a few days ago. It also suits me to stay for a bit until I can get some word on Charley and Boday. Either way we'll go with the caravan and then we'll see a certain navigation company and claim our free passage, resupply, and insurance and be on our way. All right?"

  Sheka sighed. "All right, all right." Sam looked over at Rani, who was lying on the bed face up, staring at the ceiling, a rather odd expression on her face. She looked, in fact, like she was going to cry, but was repressing the tears. "Rani—is there anything else wrong?" "No. It's all right."

  "Come on. Tell me. It might help and it can't hurt." Rani sighed. "It—it was one of the girls we were with today. Her dad came over for her. He—for a moment—I thought he looked—well, like, Daddy." And then she did start to cry, but just a little, for Sheka's sake.

  Sam shook her head and said what comforting things she could. Damn it, they didn't just have one whammy, they had two, and the loss of their parents and brothers was perhaps more devastating than even the brutalizing, since it was those very people who could have helped them over the ugliness. Sam got them into bed and turned out the light and went back to her room. She felt a little like crying herself at this point, but at least it wasn't over her own problems this time. Something like this would knock the self-pity right out of you.

  The next day, Sam ate a prodigious breakfast and then was off for her own trip to the examiners. They seemed a bit gun shy after the girls; they provided a man and a woman for her, the man well up in years, gray-haired and cherubic, the woman maybe in her forties and with a real professional look and air.

  They introduced themselves as Halomar and Gira; he was a healing magician, she an alchemist. They gave her a surprisingly thorough physical, even using a primitive form of stethoscope, and they wanted blood and urine samples. Sam didn't like that part—she knew that body samples were useful to black magic here and that giving some of your own free will was almost putting your life in another's hands, but there was little choice.

  Halomar did most of the physical, but it was the woman, Gira, who took the samples and also sat down to ask some questions while the magician took notes on a worn pad.

  "Your name is Susama Boday," she said more than asked.

  "Yes."

  "That is a married form, but both names are feminine."

  Sam shrugged. She had decided not to give excuses or long-winded explanations anymore. "Yes, I have a legally registered statement of union at Tubikosa. My wife is still missing somewhere in the Wastes."

  "Hmmm ... It takes courage to do that in a strict place like Tubikosa. I can see why you were leaving. I take it that you are comfortable with it, though, and that you have no self-doubts about your nature and orientation."

  Of course / have self-doubts, you asshole! And I'm decidedly not comfortable when I'm put on the spot like this and forced on the defensive like I'm some kind of Sheka's freak!

  "Yes," said Sam. "She's also an alchemist, by the way. Want to fool around?"

  The alchemist started slightly, then realized she was being baited and regained her cool composure. Still, partly to help his colleague, Halomar decided to step in.

  "Were you aware that you were under some rather strange spell?" he asked.

  Sam nodded. "It didn't put on this weight but it keeps it on."

  "Ah! So that's the basis. It was quite complex. You should be careful, though. It is very strong, and it would take an Akhbreed sorcerer to lift it, and even then with difficulty. You can't keep any weight off at the level you were when it was imposed, but you can still gain, and what you gain if kept over any period of time will become part of the curse and will stick. Your height is seventeen point four krils and your weight is a hundred and two and a fraction halg. In other circumstances we would say that was dangerous."

  Sam did some quick mental calculations. She knew she was around five one—she'd always been damned short—and a halg she figured once was about two and a half pounds. Jeez—two fifty-five, and that was after days of starvation and exercise!

  "So how am I supposed to keep it there?"

  "Exercise daily and vigorously," he told her. "All you can. It is all you can do. Your heart is surprisingly strong, your lungs are moderately clean, and your blood pressure is surprisingly normal for one of your weight. Considering all you've been through, I would say that was incredible. Exercise will certainly help."

  "Your periods—how are they?" the woman asked.

  She shrugged. "I used to have 'em pretty bad but they've been mild and just spotty since I gained all this weight. I guess that's the one bright spot in it. My last one was two weeks ago, more or less," she added. "I haven't exactly been paying attention to the calendar." And the demon who stuck me with the weight also shut down the egg factory, so I haven't been too concerned about it, she added to herself.

  She realized what they were asking for—she had, after all, been a victim of multiple rape—but aside from the fact that it was still a little painful down there she didn't think there were any lasting physical problems from it. It was more the extra layer of fear and anxiety
it put into her in even normal, casual circumstances that was the real scar. She had never given much thought to walking alone, even in the evenings, even in the rough district of Tubikosa where they'd lived that year, but now she found it impossible to consider walking anywhere alone that wasn't brightly lit and didn't have people around.

  Finally, they asked her about future plans, and there she decided to be very circumspect. She had a reasonable idea by now that these people had no idea of who she was and that she was being hunted by somebody important, but she didn't want to find out whose side they were on fay letting anything slip. She had an idea that the magician could tell truth from falsehood, but limited truths would ring no bells.

  "I wish to find my companions, if possible," she told them. "Whether or not they are found, though, I will continue on. This curse was a product of a magic charm, no longer any good even if I still had it, produced by a sorcerer to the northwest. I was assured that he or one of his associates could lift it if I got there."

  They nodded, and the alchemist then asked, "And then what?"

  "Huh? I don't understand."

  "Suppose you get there and the curse is lifted—what then? Do you have family, tribe, or profession to call upon?"

  It was an unexpected and somewhat disconcerting question since, indeed, she had none of those. How best to answer?

  "I am told," she said carefully, "that anyone who triggers this curse can be assured of some employment by the people who can remove it."

  "Hmph!" said Halomar. "The sort of way these things work, I wouldn't want to be the object of such a curse. You could well wind up being research subject for new spells or worse. And the children? How will they be provided for?"

  She shrugged. "I have always managed to fill my needs. I admit I would like to see them safe and secure someplace, but unless I was absolutely certain it was in their best interests I am prepared to do whatever it takes to raise them to adulthood."

  They leaned back and whispered to one another too low for her to hear. Then Gira picked up a piece of paper—a form of some kind—and slid it to Sam. "Please read this and sign it and that will be all, I think," the alchemist said pleasantly.

  Sam looked at the pictographic writing, no two characters alike, and again felt embarrassed. "I'm sorry—I know my native tongue but I never learned to read Akhbreed."

  The paper was withdrawn. "That is all right." Gira paused for a moment, thinking, then said, "You are in surprisingly good health considering your ordeal. It is customary, after a physical approval, that our guests here do some work in lieu of payment, if they are up to it. Would this bother you?"

  "No," Sam replied. "In fact, I was feeling kind of guilty about taking all this with ho way to pay it back as it was. What sort of work?"

  "We have some wide agricultural holdings here, making the desert bloom in the only part of the region where it can be made to bloom. In this we not only make ourselves self-sufficient in food and cloth but also experiment with new ways of growing things. This is spread out along the river and is planned so that something is always being harvested and something else planted. Now we are harvesting enu groves in a small valley about nine leegs from here. It is physical work but requires no special knowledge or skills."

  Sam nodded. "Sounds fair, I guess." She didn't really like the idea of hard physical work but, what the hell, it was only for four or five days and she owed it.

  "Very well. I will have Avala outfit you and take you there. Avala herself began with us there and she knows it well. Thank you."

  Sam got up, then shook hands all around, and Gira showed her to the door where Avala was waiting outside. "Susama has volunteered for the picking crew. Will you see that she gets there and gets what she needs?"

  Avala bowed slightly. "Of course. Come, it will be good to get out in the air for a while."

  Gira watched them go, then shut the door and went back over to her colleague.

  "She is something of a survivor, but toughness is not a good measure of her best interests," Halomar noted.

  "I was thinking the same thing," Gira agreed. "She is illiterate, without family, tribe, or skills. By her own admission here she lived entirely as a housekeeper for her missing mate who is, or was, both artist and alchemist and sufficient to be a provider for both. Her sexual orientation makes it unlikely she will settle in any conventional family scheme, and she is hardly the type for courtesan work. The best she could hope for would be some sort of menial job. Otherwise, she'll be a social outcast anywhere. She certainly has a low self-image; even with her weight she seems to go out of her way to make herself look plain and unattractive. If there weren't the matter of the curse the decision would be simple."

  Halomar nodded. "I agree, particularly in light of the children. Even in the best of circumstances those children would have no future with her, a fact even she tacitly acknowledges. But those children are torn up inside, as you well know, and have no anchor in family or in law. At best they would wind up of necessity being slipped some potion and working as whores to support Susama, whose background is in that seamier side of life anyway. Their hurt and prejudices are deep. I do not think Directors were wrong in fearing that eventually they might suicide without support and a stable family life. As for Susama's curse, I said that exercise will control it and she is surprisingly healthy as she is."

  "Yes, that is why I thought immediately of a field worker. It is good exercise and is something constructive she can do. Avala knows enough to make certain she gets the potions that will ease the strain and aid the transition to real work."

  "And precondition her as well. I believe we would be criminals if we let those children go off with her, but unless we also take in Susama it would be very difficult to do."

  "Yes, I thought the same."

  "If she were to have her memories and personality permanently erased and a newer, simpler one built," Halomar suggested, "she would fit in perfectly as a permanent field worker—planting, picking, and the like—and get heavy daily exercise to boot. With the aid of some careful guidance and hypnotics or spells she could almost certainly be reoriented sufficiently to be happy in a heterosexual relationship. Of course, we've already agreed that erasure is the only hope of saving those children."

  The alchemist sighed. "Exactly my thinking. We have done it so many times before with poor unfortunates that it would not be at all difficult to handle gently and unobtrusively, but we would have an embarrassing, even awkward, situation if then her mate walks in. In that instance, it could be quite— difficult—for the Duke."

  "We could cover," responded the magician, "but it is best to play it a bit cautiously. It is five days until the next caravan— Crim's, I believe, which is a good choice, since Crim won't care or ask questions one way or the other. If neither or both of the missing pair are located within that time it's safe to assume that they never will be. You and I both know this country, and the additional time will give us an opportunity to test her in this role without committing anyone. Of course, the final decision is His Grace's, but I will recommend treatment on the morning five days from today if the conditioning tests are satisfactory and nothing else develops."

  "Five days seems more than safe," Gira agreed. "I'll write it up for the Directors and His Grace today."

  3

  Of Brigands, Scoundrels, and Slaves

  Boday stepped and suddenly froze, her face a mask of revulsion. She looked down and said, disgustedly, "We are still following them. Perhaps we follow too closely. The horse dung is still very fresh."

  Charley suppressed something of a giggle. She looked up and around and saw a large stone monolith with carving and a fancy seal on it. "See, Mistress—the way goes in two, and what is that?" She hated the demeaning Short Speech but it was all she had. Boday knew no English and Charley's mouth simply wouldn't form Akhbreed. She was only thankful that her ear for languages and liking for music allowed her to understand—mostly—what was being said. To be in this position and effectively m
ute was inconvenient; to be essentially deaf would be intolerable.

  Boday finished wiping what she could against the dry grass near the river and came up to look. "It appears to be an Imperial seal," she said, marveling. "It says that there is a Governor's residence down there. Difficult to believe in this desolation that anyone would bother with a Governor."

  "Does Mistress think they might go there?" It was a real hope.

  Boday sighed and thought about it. "There is more fresh dung going straight, and we know now that it is most certainly the riders with all our belongings and horses and perhaps Susama as well. This is too far along. Why would they have come here instead of waiting for us? No, the evidence points to them being captured by the riders. They go slowly because of their extra load anyway. Boday is thinking! Ah! What we must do is follow the riders for now, while there is still daylight. If we fail to catch up with them, at least sufficient to see if they do or do not have Susama and the girls, then we will return here and beg the Governor's help."

  "Might he not help now, Mistress?"

  Boday shook her head. "No, any Governor of a place like this is either in deep disgrace or he is the ringleader for all the criminal bands in the area. We might well be forced to him out of sheer hunger or desperation, but until we must Boday would like to avoid it. There is no sign of any recent horses save those we follow, so it is unlikely that this Governor's people found them and took them in, but it is quite likely that they had their hands in the raiders who attacked the trains. If so, one good look at you, my little butterfly, and you will quickly meet your horned pursuer. Never mind that he will then see through the deception. That will simply make my Susama the obvious target and our own fates will be most unpleasant. No, while Boday could happily eat one of her missing horses, she is tough, she can do without for now. We know where this place is now. We can always fall back on it as a last resort."