Masters of Flux & Anchor

by Jack L. Chalker

  Ultimately, though, he sighed, sat back, and sipped a drink. “She is now devoid of spells of protections,” he told Haldayne. “It would have been impossible to do without this machine. Impossible. They were that good. Now we can go in and, I hope, make the very small fine tuning adjustments required.”

  “I don’t see why we just can’t turn her into a Fluxgirl and be done with it,” Haldayne groused.

  “Subtlety was never your strong suit,” Ivan said impatiently. “She is more than the sum of her parts. She is a symbol of strength and a role model. She must believe that everything that happens, every choice she makes from now on, is a free one, for that is the only way to convince others as well. The political shocks from it will then be enormous, as opposed to the heavy-handed way you propose in which she’ll simply be a casualty and therefore a martyr.”

  “I still don’t see how you can do it. We have never understood her, and these things can only go so far. You’re not even a woman. How can you make those little turns in her mind?”

  “I won’t. She will do it for me.” He sighed and put the helmet back on. Talk to me, he whispered to her through the medium of Flux. Tell me your regrets, your fears, your inner angers and desires.

  It took several hours, but the pattern fell into place with greater ease than he’d expected. She felt tremendous guilt for those who’d died in her name, and some large resentment for the Nine who forced her into that position. She had a curious love-hate reaction to Matson, whom she at once loved and wanted dearly and yet could never forgive for walking away. Matson’s image was greatly intermixed with her near-worship of her late father, and some of the attributes she found most attractive in Matson were really those of a father-figure.

  It was, in fact, long and complex, but really rather easy. It was far more difficult to replace all the spells he’d removed exactly so, so that no one, absolutely no one, could tell that anything had been done to her at all.

  Cass did not come to until they were well within the Anchor gates. When she awoke, she found herself in the back of a wagon, bound with handcuffs and light, thin, but very secure leg irons. She was stark naked, but that didn’t bother her nearly as much as the restraints.

  She was able to turn a bit and look out the back of the wagon. With the hand and leg restraints, escape was out of the question, so they’d decided to give her a view. She realized with a shock that she wasn’t just in any Anchor, but in Anchor Logh—or what had been Anchor Logh. Now it was New Eden, a land she associated with fanaticism, slavery, and terror. It seemed almost odd to her that it still looked tranquil and pastoral.

  A man came back, seeing that she was awake, and sat down beside her. He was a big, gruff-looking man of apparent middle age, thick but gray hair, a well worn face that spoke of great trials in his life yet seemed to have in it a hint of softness, even kindness. His eyebrows were almost as thick as his drooping moustache; the brows remained black, but the moustache was tinged with gray at the ends. His eyes were a deep brown, and they held compassion, not the steely fanaticism she expected to see. He wore a uniform of shiny black with no insignia.

  “Welcome home,” he said casually. He reached back and undid the gag, slipping it off, then offered her some water, which she took. Finally, she said, “So this is Anchor Logh!”

  “New Eden. You wouldn’t recognize it now that it’s been so changed.”

  “I’ve seen enough—out the back.”

  He nodded. “There are three divisions of labor here, as we like to say. The men administer, plan, take all the responsibility. The bulk of the women live communally in sisterhoods, performing the basic work that makes things go. Some women, however, are special, and serve more intimate purposes. Don’t worry about yourself—you are in a very special category.”

  She didn’t like that. “I found the system repulsive at the start, and I don’t find the refined version any better.”

  “Huh! Listen to the High and Mighty one! Women made the old Church and the old order, and it stagnated and strangled people. Me, I was once a sergeant of a palace guard in Flux, run by a woman wizard who believed she was the center of all creation. Women did all the bossing there, and men did all the dirty work. Me and my men did all the guarding and enforcement, but under women officers who also commanded us in other ways. You could be castrated if you didn’t perform to their satisfaction, on the walls or in the bed. They loved it. because we had all that strength but could only use it at their direction because of that old bitch’s magic. You were around then, building your high and mighty empire, but you thought Makasur was just fine. You even stayed over there a couple of nights and said what a really fine place it was. You remember that?”

  She felt a little sick. “No, I don’t. There were so many places… . ”

  “Yeah. But it’s damn strange to take that moral tone when you saw the same thing happening to men and thought it was a wonderful place.”

  “I—I didn’t know.” She was irritated at being placed on the defensive when she was in such a position, but her guilt at what she’d justified to herself as expedient always haunted her after. She had no doubt that the man spoke the truth, for there were hundreds of variations on Makasur in the campaigns. “But does doing it to others, to innocents, out of revenge make it right? Or does it justify such places in your mind?”

  “I can’t deny that revenge played a big part in founding this place, but it’s more than that now. A lot more. Among the ancient writings that fell into our hands were the holy books of our ancestors. Not the stuff the Church dishes out, but the system it replaced. This is God’s will, His way of returning the human race to the right path, to purging humanity of all that went unholy. Hell did rebel, and it won. Now we are here to make it right again.”

  She realized from long experience as a religious leader that the man’s tone was matter-of-fact and definite. He really believed what he said.

  “I’m sorry,” she responded. “I don’t believe in my own old holy writings anymore. I’m certainly not ready for something like yours.”

  “We will convince you, too,” he told her flatly.

  “You can do many things to me, but you can’t work your Flux changes on me as you do the others. Surely you know that.”

  “You underestimate us. Do you think you’re the first world-class wizard we have dealt with? Wizardry is a horror we will one day eliminate from the face of World. The books showed us the ways, and they work. We wanted you particularly and for a very long time, you know. Not for your looks, certainly, although you are, I admit, quite a bit more appealing than your pictures. You’re not just anyone. You are a symbol, recognized and recognizable, now as before. Wizards know your power, and your very presence in our system will demonstrate ours, generating fear in them and respect as well. This enhances our security and insures their cooperation with us when we need them. Word will grow and spread of this far beyond our little cluster. The Church will not fall because of it, but it will rattle a great deal. We were ready for you a while ago, but until now your capture had not been possible.”

  “H—How did they do it, if I may ask?”

  “You may indeed. A simple ray projector of our creation that uses Flux energy to concentrate enormous power on every cell of the body, but without destroying any of those cells. You might call it a near-electrocution. It is instantaneous through the whole nervous system, so there is no time to counter it. A very powerful but evil wizard has been trying to get in our good graces for quite a while. We told him that you were a prize that would make us think more kindly toward him, and he delivered you. Zelligman Ivan is his name.”

  She started. “But he’s one of the Seven!”

  “We are not stupid. This land was founded by Coydt van Haas, remember. We know what Haas was, and who and what Zelligman Ivan is and what he wants. I said the Church was a perversion, not something out of whole cloth. We know what Hell is, and we know from whence its influence flows. He is as powerless as you in our Anchors. He may gain a lo
t of friendliness from us so long as his power suits our needs, but neither he nor his agents will get near a Hellgate. Not from our side.”

  She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or not. At least now she could understand the cold pragmatism of the Nine in allowing this abomination of Anchors to exist. If they guarded their end as zealously as the Church did, it was not worth the thousands of lives to retake and clean up this place.

  And where did that leave her? She shivered slightly, and he saw it and read her thoughts.

  “Don’t worry. God’s object now is to provide happiness and contentment. You will have both.”

  Ax a blade of grass is happy, even when it is cut, for it knows no other way, she thought sourly.

  They pulled into a nondescript building in some town not far from the Anchor gate, and she was lifted down and walked with this strange man into the building and up a flight of stairs. It was slow going with the leg bracelets, but she was determined not to falter or fall. They placed her in a room that was no less a cell for being clean and comfortable. All restraints were then removed, but she had no illusions that she was not under constant surveillance.

  In all, she found the place surprising. Electric lights here, in the boondocks! Some kind of powered air filtration system that kept things dry and comfortable at all times. She knew she was in for a great ordeal, but she had been through ordeals no human had ever before endured and she was still here. Suicide did not really occur to her; if she’d been the sort, she would have done it years ago.

  There was a tap of drinkable water in the cell, and the first food they delivered was quite an excellent meal, She knew it was probably drugged, but considering the air system and the water it hardly seemed worth starving to death to avoid it.

  She worried about Spirit, but she knew that Mervyn and Jeff would take care of her, at least see her through the tough times. It would be rough on Jeff, and she hoped he wouldn’t try to rescue her. Not here. She was not convinced that they could make her become what they wanted, and she knew she would look for escape if she could, but she knew she would probably die in the effort. Oddly, that idea did not disturb her, and she fell fast asleep.

  If they’d put anything in the food, water, or air she certainly couldn’t tell. The next day they introduced her to the collar, a very nasty little device. Although it clipped on, it was very securely locked and appeared seamless. It was tight around the neck, but not so tight that it would interfere with eating or breathing. What it did was deliver the most horrible, painful shock she had ever known every time anyone pushed a button, and black-clad men pushed the button frequently. It was a textbook conditioning technique; not something that would induce permanent changes, but would give them control of her behavior, that was certain. She tried to stand it for a while, but the pain was simply too excruciating. After a bit, anyone would do anything to avoid it, and anything meant doing exactly what they said exactly when they said. Even the smallest infraction was punished.

  For someone who was as intelligent and strong-willed as she was, it was incredible how easy it was to break her. Every mistake, every little error, got a jolt from the collar.

  It took less than a week for Cass to realize that the only way to avoid such pain was to begin to think the way they wished. Even though she knew what was happening, it proved impossible to resist, and this helped destroy her self-confidence all the more.

  The men who administered the system were highly skilled experts and they were very patient. It was impossible to fool them for long, and they proceeded in a methodical manner, never advancing until they were positive an earlier plateau had been reached.

  At the start it was reduction and disorientation. No set schedules, no set feedings, no sight of the outside, and no prolonged or regular sleeps. The total disruption of the biological clock, the total absence of time sense, and sleep deprivation and consequent eternal fatigue coupled with the shock collar were as effective on her as on the thousands before her. She was human; that was all they needed.

  There were the lectures, which she was expected to memorize, lectures given again and again, asleep and awake, and on which she was constantly quizzed, with any hesitancy or wrong answer producing a jolt. The only way to avoid it was to quite literally incorporate what was being said into her thoughts.

  Not that she didn’t try to fight it, but short of committing suicide there was simply no way to do it for long. The techniques used were thousands of years old and they worked almost every time. The old Church had found them quite effective.

  Eventually, she found herself waking up automatically when the light came on, getting up, washing herself at the basin, brushing her hair, and waiting for the guards. All of the thoughts in her mind were consumed by the whole of the Revealed Truth upon which she would be endlessly and dispassionately quizzed. When all of your waking thoughts are directed to the same texts, you tend to begin to believe them.

  World circled an enormous planet shrouded in poison gasses, held to this orbit by natural forces. In the beginning. God had created the heavens and World and also created out of Flux all that was. Ultimately. He had created the first man in His own image and set him in a paradise called Eden, which was World in the first days. When the first man was lonely, God created the first woman as his opposite and complement. A true, divinely ordained social structure was in that way created.

  But God wanted them tested, and allowed Hell the Tempter into Eden, and the demons failed to tempt the man but succeeded in getting the woman to disobey God’s commandments, and then she was able to get the man to do the same. Because of this, God dissolved Eden into Flux and created World as it is known today. It was commanded that woman be the subordinate to man. as she was more easily corrupted; that because the woman alone could bear and rear the children the man would be the provider and the protector, the woman the nurturer and keeper of the home and family. Being created out of man rather than God, the woman had no innate soul of her own but could attain heaven by a proper life and service to a man, becoming an adjunct to his soul. To do so, she must follow God’s plan and keep to the divine role assigned to her, one of subordination and service, as she had demonstrated in Eden that power and authority were not proper for her. Still, any woman who served God, obeyed His divine rules, and joyfully accepted and dedicated herself to service could attain divine bliss.

  For thousands of years this society had existed, until finally the demons of Hell had cracked it, driven as they were to test all of God’s creations. Misguided men allowed women too much power and freedom and this corrupted them. The men were overthrown for this, as God’s punishment for their own weakness, and a corrupt perversion of society replaced it, one in which women set up an exclusive and false Church and used it to dominate and run all of human society. It was a period of misery and stagnation for human kind, in which all of the ancient knowledge was lost or hidden and all of society was devoted only to maintaining the status quo.

  Now God had allowed, after all this time, some of the ancient knowledge and writings to reappear in the hands of men—the men of New Eden. God had delivered into their hands the means of deliverance from the blasphemous system that had oppressed World and the means to once again set up the true path according to Divine Will. This was New Eden.

  After a while—she could not know how long—the initial treatment stopped. She was allowed to sleep and was given time to think and relax, but the collar stayed on and the tests always continued. Now, though, there were more structured sessions with a variety of people. She was taught the proper methods of dress and makeup and expected to make herself not merely presentable but as attractive as possible before leaving her room. She had always believed herself plain and unattractive, but they showed her all sorts of ways to enhance her looks. She did not even then see herself as a sex goddess, but she found the reflections in her mirror more attractive now and she liked it. Something deep down began to stir in her, something she’d never really suspected was there. She craved to be a
ttractive, to get those looks from men. to be seen as someone sexy and desirable.

  The sessions, too, challenged her, turning her inward. The Church was a sham; it could not be reformed, as she had thought, for it was innately corrupt and bankrupt. She had long ago lost her faith but there had been no alternatives; now she had one. and it seemed to fill a tremendous inner need to embrace it and believe it. She had been appalled by the corruption and stagnancy of the old Church, yet in reforming it she had killed tens of thousands and reached an empty end. She had sacrificed her life, her friends, even her daughter to a hollow idol, a Church that served nothing but the narrow political ends of nine powerful, amoral wizards.

  Carefully they took her back to the original, innocent Cassie of Anchor Logh, dreaming of romance but trying to be content with a mediocre career that would replace it.

  She fought it, fought it all the way, but her own internal counters to their arguments and philosophy were hollow, too, dead ends of unhappiness, loneliness, despair. She was in turmoil, unable to really think straight or counter any of it. In the end, it came down to alternatives. Accept this, totally and completely, or—what? More unending misery, loneliness, and despair? The carefully measured pressure built up inside her, based upon the groundwork laid, unknown to her, by Ivan and Haldayne in Flux.

  Ultimately, one evening, something finally slipped in her mind. All arguments fled, all questions faded, and she prostrated herself and prayed to the God of New Eden to grant her happiness and peace.

  Then they introduced her to Adam Tilghman. the same craggy-faced former sergeant she’d talked to when first awakening in New Eden. Somehow she’d seen something she’d liked in him even then, and the more she saw of him the more she liked him.

  Human contact with anyone other than Tilghman was kept to an absolute minimum and was always done in silence by both sides. Tilghman alone became her sole source of conversation, punishment, and praise. He tended to be apologetic for the shock technique, yet he defended it as the only way to break through decades of conditioning without physical harm. “We are still feeling our way, and searching for the true grace of God,” he told her.