Beetle Juice

by Piers Anthony

  The landscape was beautiful. It was hilly and rocky, and there were indeed gulfs between trees, as if flooding rivers had cut through and gouged out sections. “Illusion masking these could be quite effective,” Wizard said.

  “It’s not enough,” Tod said. “The first one who drops into a gulf will alert the others and they’ll pull up short.”

  “We need something that will already be too late by the time they catch on,” Veee said.

  “That’s a difficult order,” Wizard said.

  “All it takes is a quicksand bog overlaid by floating debris,” Vanja said. “Run out over it, it starts to sink, back off, but you’re already going down.”

  “And do you have such a bog handy?”

  “Scry for it, dodo.”

  “I’m not sure a scry of that nature would work.”

  “Stop balking, or I’ll kiss you.”

  “You don’t understand. Scrying is local. I could scry the nature of a bog if I came to it, but—”

  Vanja changed to bat form, flew to land on Wetzel’s back in front of Wizard, transformed to nude woman form, soundly kissed him, transformed to bat, flew to the ground, and returned to woman. “Scry the local land.”

  Wizard sighed. “Your argument is persuasive.”

  The others laughed as Wizard dismounted and stood directly on the land. He looked surprised. “We are on a slope that descends to a bog.”

  Vanja looked smug. She had seen the lay of the land during her flight.

  They soon found the bog, and it was indeed quicksand. “But we’ll have to lead them to it,” Tod said. “If it is concealed by illusion, how will we avoid it ourselves?”

  Veee studied the bog. “We will have to skirt it carefully, as the outline is curvaceous. We have to be able to see it.”

  “Curvaceous outlines are made to be seen,” Vanja agreed, flexing her hips.

  “I shall have to teach you to penetrate illusion,” Wizard said. “Then you will be able to navigate it safely, while the poachers won’t.”

  “Now,” Tod said.

  Wizard dismounted again, and Wetzel reverted to manform. Wizard cast an illusion of rocky hills and gullies much like those they had been traversing. It was so realistic that Wetzel hesitated to move at all, lest he put a foot into quicksand.

  “The key is first to know that you face illusion,” Wizard said. “Second, to know the underlying reality. Focus on that reality until it begins to come clear beneath the fog of illusion. Remain focused until you are through it.”

  “Couldn’t the poachers do that too?” Veee asked.

  “They could if they knew how, if they anticipated the ploy. We are depending on the element of surprise.”

  Wetzel focused on the bog he had just seen, that he knew was there. Gradually the illusion thinned, like fog he was seeing through, and the bog achieved increasing solidity. When he refocused on the illusion, it was back in force, but it was easy now to return to the bog. He stepped forward and touched the edge of the bog with his toe. It was definitely a marsh.

  Fascinating, LadyBug thought. I can do illusion to make my body resemble a flower fly, but Wizard can mask an entire landscape.

  “That’s his specialty,” Wetzel said. “It’s a form of magic.”

  You call it that because you don’t know how he does it.

  She had a point. In some cultures Wizard would be called a scientist or an artist.

  The others were doing likewise, getting their bearings despite the cover of illusion. Once they all had it straight, Wizard let the illusion lapse. Tod with Vanja in bat form explored the land between the bog and the access to the Amoeba trail, planning a route. Wetzel and Veee explored in the direction of the male scarab, on whom LadyBug had a firm fix.

  Yet why hadn’t Veee gone with Tod? They were in love, after all.

  Veee smiled. “I caught that.”

  Wetzel was embarrassed. “I keep forgetting that LadyBug enables me to project my thoughts.”

  I do.

  “It’s no matter,” Veee said. “We separate because we are in love. When we are alone together the temptation to make love is too great, and whatever other business we are about suffers.”

  “But Vanja will be seducing him.”

  “Of course. That’s her nature. But that’s sex, not love. Not nearly as much of a distraction. She can accomplish it in minutes and go on about their business. He retains a lingering hankering for her.”

  “You are remarkably tolerant.”

  “Tolerant of him with her. Of him with the girls of PinkPebble. Intolerant of my being sexual with any other man.”

  “I don’t properly understand that. If it is all right for him to have sex with other women, why isn’t it all right for you to have sex with other men?”

  “Tod would allow it. He is not jealous. But I came from a primitive culture where women have no sexual rights. Now I am in one where they do. I am reserving myself for Tod alone. This is my expression of personal privilege.”

  “Vanja suggested something similar. She supports your resolution.”

  “She does. We are friends.”

  The male scarab is close.

  “We had better halt here,” Wetzel said. “The male scarab is near.”

  “I heard. Now we have a route from here to the bog.”

  They started back, mentally marking the route. “I hope our plan is effective,” Wetzel said.

  “So do I. I fear for the future.”

  “You have precognition?”

  “No, just common sense. We know the poachers are brute men. We know what interests men. They will want to possess both Vanja and me. We may be able to get along with them only if we pay in that manner.”

  “I fear you are right.”

  Suddenly she was in mental and physical tears. “Oh, Wetzel, I don’t want to do it!”

  Quite understandable. “We can tell them no.”

  “Not if we want free rein to search for the male scarab.”

  I will know exactly where he is.

  “But you dare not get close to him,” Wetzel said to LadyBug. “One of us must do it, and persuade him to travel with us. The poachers will be on guard against that.”

  “I am going to have to prostitute myself,” Veee sobbed.

  Wetzel took her in his arms, trying to comfort her. “We’ll work out a different plan.”

  “We don’t have time. We need to get this done today, before that male scarab is ready to breed. Before all the other females flock to him, and get juiced by the poachers.”

  She is right.

  “We’ll discuss it today,” Wetzel said. “There has to be another way.”

  “I doubt it. But thanks for trying.” She lifted her wet face and kissed him.

  It was a friendship kiss, but it electrified him; there were echoes of his love scenes with the dream virgin LadyBug that caught him off guard. “You’re welcome,” he said somewhat hollowly. He felt guilty for desiring her. They were friends, not lovers.

  And of course she got that thought too. Damn his carelessness! He should have buried it.

  “No, there must be truth between friends,” Veee said. “You desire me and I desire you. I believe I am about to prostitute myself to strange ugly men. I would rather give myself to you before soiling myself that way. You care. You are determined to be my friend despite your sexual interest.”

  “Yes! So let’s have no more of this.”

  “I am in this respect virginal. I have given myself voluntarily to only one man. You must be the second.”

  He fought his burgeoning desire. She was right: it was a type of virginity. “No! What you do involuntarily is not your fault. But you must not betray your voluntary code. We must return to the bog now.”

  “You are struggling,” she said. “Dragging yourself one way when your wish is another way.”

  There was no point in trying to deny it. “I am.” He walked back the way they had come.

  She followed, grasping his hand. “You are st
ronger than I am. I love you.”

  “May I always be worthy of it.” He kept moving.

  “Thank you.” Her overflowing emotions were highly mixed, but the dominant one now was relief.

  The others knew the moment they came in range. “You are more of a man than I took you for, unicorn,” Wizard said. Both Tod and Vanja nodded.

  “We have to figure out another way,” Wetzel said. “We can’t let Veee do what repulses her.”

  “It isn’t entirely your choice,” Veee said. Her tears were gone; she had made up her mind.

  “Yet if we can find an alternative strategy,” Wizard said, “then perhaps we can preserve what we value.”

  “We’ll work on it now,” Tod said grimly. His mind said he was against letting Veee prostitute herself, but not because of his own interest. Because he didn’t want her hurt, and this would mortify her.

  Then they felt the feather touch of a telepathic probe. All of them instantly dived into their mental storm shelters, and LadyBug dropped into anonymous repulsion.

  But it meant that their mission had just become infinitely more complicated and dangerous. That had been no insect touch; it had the power of a human mind.

  The poachers had a telepath among them.

  Chapter 9

  MaleBug

  “Verbal communication only,” Wetzel said tersely. “With luck they don’t realize we have a telepath too.”

  “What course of action?” Wizard asked. “If we retreat immediately, we can escape them.”

  “And fail our mission,” Vanja said.

  “We’ll try for it,” Tod decided. “Vanja, spy on them. If there are fewer than five, we’ll go for it.” Vanja transformed and took off. “But have your weapons handy. With a telepath, they will know we’re coming. If they attack, we’ll treat them like wolfkeys and take down as many as we can.” He turned to Wizard. “If all else fails, bomb them, even if you have to bomb us too. At least we’ll take them out with us, and save some scarabs.”

  Wetzel changed to unicorn form so Wizard could ride. He now appreciated how the man had to save his magical power for emergency use. It could make a real difference.

  “And if we get the scarab, flee,” Tod added. “Along this path, with the illusion.”

  They all knew why.

  The bat returned and transformed to the woman. “Four. Three men and a woman. They have a similar look about them; I think they are siblings.”

  “That makes sense,” Wizard said. “A family affair. They can trust each other.”

  “We can handle four,” Tod said grimly. “Remember, we’re a troupe.”

  “A fake troupe,” Vanja said. “To cover our identity as buyers.”

  “Take this,” Veee said, extending the scarab capsule. Wetzel took it in his mouth, tucking it into a cheek.

  As they approached the camp of the poachers, Wetzel felt the mental touch again, and knew that the others did too. None of them reacted; ordinary people generally did not know of telepaths, or how to protect their minds. They would keep their assumed identities uppermost in their thoughts, so that these alone could be read. Wetzel himself focused on simply being a unicorn being used as a beast of burden. With luck the telepath would not catch on that he had human intelligence, let alone telepathy. With enough luck, the poachers would not catch on to anything until it was too late.

  LadyBug, nestled in the hair of his head, remained silent, knowing that discovery could mean her death.

  No poacher came out to meet them. That meant that the poachers were playing dumb, pretending to be unaware of the party’s approach. That meant in turn that the poachers were also concealing their telepath. So probably they did not know the visitors had a telepath, let alone which one of them it was. Unless they were being really canny. The dangerous game was on.

  “Hello!” Tod called as they sighted the camp.

  The poachers jumped up as if surprised. Knives appeared.

  Tod spread his open hands in a signal of nonaggression. “Are you the traders?” he asked innocently. “Traders” was a phenomenal euphemism.

  The four stared blankly at him. Answer enough; there was no common language.

  Veee brought out her cards. “We come as friends,” she said, showing a picture of a stick figure man with arms spread in welcome. “I am Veee.” She showed a stick figure in a skirt, with long hair.

  The woman came forward. “Zora,” she said. She had short black hair and a prominent chin, as did the men.

  “Hello Zora!” Communication had been, if not established, initiated. Wetzel could have read their minds independent of language, but that would have given away his ability to their telepath.

  The two women entered a pictures/words dialogue, in the course of which introductions were made: Tod, Wizard, Vanja, and the unicorn steed Wetzel, presented as a dumb animal. The poachers were Frank, Ralph, and Mason. Wizard and Tod sat on the ground, letting Veee carry it. Vanja stood a little apart, looking bored. Wetzel knew she wasn’t, but she wanted to seem like an empty-headed dance girl.

  Veee attempted business. She showed a distant planet the team supposedly represented, and a picture of a scarab. That got the immediate and hostile attention of all four. For all they knew, this was really a vigilante posse out to get them. Veee made the case that they wanted to buy scarabs directly, to save money, but none of the poachers trusted that.

  Still, the poachers were clearly keenly interested in money, and were not about to dismiss a chance for it out of hand. “We’ll talk further tomorrow,” Zora said via a card showing the sun going down, then coming up again. “Now show your good faith by entertaining us.” That took a number of cards.

  Tod brought out his ocarina, and Vanja danced. The music was lovely, and the dance was erotic. The men watched that briefly, then decided they wanted more of her. They took off their clothes and let their erections show. That was clear enough. Would she accede voluntarily? This was a likely crisis point: if the team wanted supposedly friendly relations to continue, Vanja would have to come to terms with the three men.

  Vanja was ready. She went with them into their tent. Wetzel wished he could peek into her willing mind, or theirs, to see exactly what the three were doing with her, simultaneously, but he could not risk it. One of these four was a telepath, and that peek could be known.

  Similarly Wetzel should be able to identify the poacher’s telepath if he tried a peek. But there was no mental touch. Obviously their telepath was being just as cautious. This was a secondary game being played, and another reason both parties were trying to make nice. Whoever identified the other telepath first would have a significant advantage. If it came to violence, the death of the opposing telepath would enable the surviving one to operate freely.

  Tod, Veee, and Wizard resumed their dialogue with Zora, who seemed to be getting increasingly interested in Tod. She was not a really attractive woman, but neither was she a washout. Definitely not a virgin. Her posture was subtly shifting to show more flesh to Tod, to evoke his interest. Zora was not well endowed, but clearly female, and she was indeed becoming interesting to the male eye. She would be making her move soon enough, maybe when her brothers finished with Vanja. The poachers were smart enough to keep at least one of their number alert at all times.

  Wetzel, a beast ignored, wandered around, grazing on local brush. Untended animals could get into mischief, but this was a glade in a jungle with nothing to mess up. Nothing but the male scarab, which the poachers had not mentioned. It was definitely the time to explore.

  Guided by a faint direction signal LadyBug provided, Wetzel ranged nearer the male scarab. He was in a fine-mesh cage under its own shelter, provided with leaves to feed on. He looked like LadyBug but was larger, several times her mass. He was beautiful, scintillating iridescently. What Tod called the Mandelbrot bug, fuzzing into a kind of infinity at the fringe.

  LadyBug was almost wild with desire. She kept her thoughts low, but she was perched on his head and he could feel it by direct con
tact.

  This was a window of opportunity that would soon close as the three men finished with Vanja. Wetzel was sure the vampire was extending the session as much as possible, to give Wetzel more time, but any man’s passion was soon satisfied by an obliging woman. Then the men would be out, and the chance would be gone.

  Wetzel put his head near the cage. “Tell him,” he murmured to LadyBug.

  She projected their situation, using her amplified power of Wetzel’s mind. The male felt it immediately. Because she was one of his own kind, and mental, and breedable, he knew it was the truth. All he had to decide was whether it was worth the gamble.

  Now, with the magnification that Wetzel’s ambiance provided, the scarab did some quick thinking and knew that he was doomed the moment his readiness brought in the females. He would be squished for juice when his usefulness as bait was done. He had either to escape, or to trust Wetzel and LadyBug.

  Wetzel worked the hinged capsule open with his tongue. Then he used his horn to poke a hole in the wire of the cage. Now the male could fly away if he chose. He did not have to cooperate with them.

  The male got on the horn and quickly followed it to Wetzel’s nose. He went from there to the mouth. He entered the capsule, which fit him comfortably. He had decided on the greater good.

  Wetzel tongued the capsule closed and pressed it tight. Then he swallowed it.

  Zora’s head snapped around. She made a scream of outrage. She brought out an odd little box. The three men boiled out of the tent, naked.

  Wetzel didn’t wait. He started walking away, knowing the others would follow and that Vanja would catch up. I have the male! he thought.

  And we have you! Zora thought. Her language was alien, but her thought was clear. She was the other telepath.

  Wetzel broke into a gallop. Zora ran to intercept him, holding the box. Then pain enveloped him. It was like a burning fire baking his head, scorching his eyes, spreading out to his neck and shoulders. He collapsed, unable to walk.

  Zora snapped orders to the men. They brought large shackles connected by a chain.

  Veee drew her knife. Tod reached for his gun.