Masters of Flux & Anchor

by Jack L. Chalker

  “Um, perhaps not, sir,” Sertz put in. “There’s no reason for a destructive fight. We can and will make what you wish—for our own security’s sake.”

  “I wish it were that simple,” Tilghman responded. “As I pointed out, the knowledge we have could, in the wrong hands, produce a society so horrible none of us could imagine it. Our own people have been guilty of excesses with just a small part of it, and it is a constant battle to reform those excesses, a battle I wage daily. If this sort of thing were to fall into the hands of powerful Fluxlords, or the Church, or the cabals known as the Seven and the Nine, it would be devastating. You must understand our higher duty to all the citizens of World. We cannot manufacture any of this unless we control every step of that production, and the places in which it is produced. Absolutely control them.”

  “But you’ll win nothing here your way,” Sertz pointed out. “Factories are the easiest things to destroy, but even if you took them intact you couldn’t run them without skilled workers. Such things as steam under pressure and blast furnaces are not run with a crew that can learn by doing. These are skilled crafts and trades that take much time and experience to do well. It took your people ten years to master Bakha’s bicycle factory, an extremely simple operation compared to any of ours. I suggest, sir, that we are here not so much out of your mercy but because you know this, too.”

  “I’ll agree with part of that, but I will also state the facts. We will control this Anchor. If we must hire and import experts from other clusters to rebuild and retrain, then we must. We are patient. Your alternatives are simple. You can categorically reject any accommodation and suffer the fate of Bakha. This will inconvenience us, but all of you and your children and your children’s children will be dead. Forever. Or, you can merge with us, join us as partners—junior partners at the start, but full later on—and we can create a standard of living here undreamed of before, and one with eventually no dependence on Flux.”

  “And the Church?” the High Priestess interjected.

  “Madame, you and your ladies and whatever you wish to take with you are free to go. We will guarantee safe passage to anywhere outside of New Eden’s sphere that you wish. But your Church has been the primary cause of keeping human beings in the dirt for too many centuries. It has no place here.” He paused a moment. “In fact, we make this offer to you all. We will agree to an orderly evacuation of all who wish to leave this Anchor. We will even arrange for temporary shelter and safety for them through Flux and to various other Anchors to the north, or they may remain just inside Flux, under our protection, until this matter is resolved and then make their own decisions on whether to return or go. We wish no more slaughter of the innocents.”

  They buzzed and whispered over that for a few seconds, and there was clearly a strong argument between the High Priestess and Dixon. Mervyn sat silently through it all. He had already done all his arguing and all his pleading, and there was nothing left to do but see it through.

  Finally, there seemed some measure of acquiescence, although hardly agreement.

  “Judge Tilghman,” Dixon said carefully, “we appreciate the gesture and we accept your generous offer. Hopefully, some time will be allowed to get this message to everyone and give them their options.”

  “Ten days from today,” the leader of New Eden said firmly. “Not one minute longer. At dawn, ten days from now, it will be cast.”

  They argued for more time, but he would not budge. “An army takes a lot of organization and resources to sustain in the field. I’ll not keep them out there any longer than necessary.”

  Dixon sighed and nodded. “Very well. You are doubtlessly aware that the Borough and Commune Council, by a majority vote, determined that massive bloodshed should be avoided at all costs. That means that the majority is willing to surrender to you, but that some will fight. We can’t stop that.”

  “The guilds are also divided,” Sertz told him. “The journeyman’s association knows that you need them, and so it’s willing to go along, but much of the rank and file will be opposed and will fight.”

  “The militia is subject to the orders of the Council,” General Yakota added. “As such, despite bitter arguments, there will be no organized resistance. I cannot, however, control a group of armed and trained civil militia in every instance. There will be resistance, and these hills will not be easy to take.”

  Tilghman nodded and thought for a moment. “Then what we have is a problem of separating the majority from the minority. Might I suggest this, then? Those of the majority—all of them—will proceed from Anchor into Flux by the two gates within ten days, under our complete protection and with adequate provisions assured. At this stage we are still partly dependent on Flux, and so we might as well use it. Our amplifiers can feed and provide for the short time necessary. Anyone remaining in Nantzee after this period will be considered an enemy and will be dealt with. When the Anchor is secured, all may return to their homes and lives.”

  “Be reasonable!” Dixon implored him. “Do you realize you might be talking about as many as three quarters of a million men, women, and children?”

  “I do and I’m prepared for it. Just such an alternative was brought up in the preliminary meetings and is fully provided for a contingency that many did not believe would exist. We could handle a million—for a short period, a week or ten days. Up to a month with strain.”

  This seemed to greatly please all but the High Priestess—and the one observer present.

  Mervyn felt suddenly very uneasy, and spoke up for the first time. “I advise against it. Surrender if you must, or fight if you must, but don’t put your population at the mercy of Flux. To evacuate essentially an entire Anchor with only the clothes on its people’s backs! Incredible!”

  Both Sertz and Dixon looked over at the old wizard. “What else can we do? Accept the eight hundred thousand dead of Bakha? Kill half or more of our population because of a few hotheads within it?”

  “But they have the population as hostage!”

  “Exactly,” Tilghman agreed. “Therefore, the militia must not only supervise the evacuation but also guard the factories and industrial might of the Anchor. There will be a terrible price for sabotage. Some of our officers can be brought in now and supervise these details to minimize any problems.” He sighed and got up. “You have made the correct decision, the only decision that insures us both a long and increasingly productive future. Staff at both gates will assist in every way. I’ll return now to notify the commands. Thank you very much. You will not regret your wisdom.” And, with that, he walked out of the tent.

  “Better than we dared hope,” Dixon sighed.

  Mervyn stood. “This is the darkest day in the history of World. I firmly believe that you who rejoice in your deliverance now will live long enough to see your names cursed for all time.” And with that, he walked out, followed by the grim-faced High Priestess. Both had known what was coming, but had hoped against hope that it could be avoided.

  “They fold like sheep, eager to welcome the butcher,” she said bitterly.

  “Tilghman is a far more brilliant tactician than I gave him credit for being,” Mervyn replied. “The scars of Bakha, whose population they needed the least, have justly terrified the rest, and their weapons are formidable. And now he’s got the victim turning over a huge portion of the population to him as hostage to a painless takeover. I do admit, Reverend Mother, that I feel fear for the first time in many long centuries. You will leave, I take it?”

  “What choice did they give us? But I’ll not surrender my people to their sexist gunmen. We will evacuate to the temple and out through the Gate. A small volunteer crew will remain, and we will flood the lowest level with concrete. The entrance will remain solidly blocked.”

  He nodded. “I hope that’s sufficient. I will also make use of it, so expect me on the tenth day as well.”

  She looked up at him in surprise. “You are staying that long? Why?”

  “Because I want to se
e just what they have in mind. I looked into Tilghman’s eyes and I saw a combination of brilliance, audacity, and arrogance that I’ve never seen before. More, he knows I’m here and a real threat to him. With Ivan and who knows who else about, it’s safest for me to exit through the back door, as it were.”

  “Don’t delay. I will be the last to leave, but you must be there on the tenth day by nightfall. I will not have a barbarian horde invading and controlling my temple!”

  9

  GALL AND GUTS

  The mass evacuation of an Anchor had never been attempted before, and it was a mammoth and massive undertaking. Additionally, the fear the majority of Anchorfolk felt for Flux had to be counterbalanced by the fear of the invading army and certain death. Some who were not rebellious still would not go, of course, including many of the aged and many simply too stubborn to give in. but the majority did in fact agree to move.

  Wizards in the employ of New Eden handled large Flux amplifiers, creating semblances of normal terrain in large pockets. Many of those fleeing Anchor Nantzee tried to take carts and animals and other belongings with them, but troops receiving them just inside Flux stripped them of anything they could not carry themselves.

  Both Tilghman and Champion were in high spirits as they watched it progress, and even the general had to admit a certain admiration for the way the Chief Judge had pulled it off. There would still be fighting, some of it potentially fierce, and there would still be a lot of split-second timing to bring it to fruition, but this first and hardest step had been surmounted.

  Tilghman set up a command post just inside Flux, where he felt more secure, and held a number of meetings. One of the first was with Onregon Sligh, the obese chief of Research and Development. Sligh was obviously not in the best of condition for long rides and strenuous activity, but he was doing what he could.

  “I’ve given some consideration to what we discussed back at the house,” Tilghman told him. “With this operation going so well, I am inclined to give you your way. Mareh is chilly rolling hills with a base of animal husbandry, open range, and textiles. They can’t move south without getting into the Cold Wastes, and we will now control all routes within the cluster to and from there,’ and thus their lifeline. I expect they will fall faster and easier than this one. I think we can afford to wait.”

  Sligh looked relieved. “You won’t regret it. At least we can be ready to go only days after Mareh is secured, which puts the timing up to you.”

  “What about our situation here? Are we ready?”

  “It’s never been done on this scale, you know, although all of our experiments and calculations indicate success. It’s a least common denominator approach, though. I see no reason for failure or apprehension. The amplifiers are set up both east and west of Anchor, away from the Gates. It will be necessary to process them in batches of a few thousand at a time, but that should be no problem. We’ve set up one hundred pockets down both sides of the Anchor in a checkerboard pattern, each holding between seven and ten thousand. We must begin immediately, though. We can’t sustain such crowds of frightened people while we wait for the last to come out of Anchor. The Flux squares of our checkerboard, however, give us some measure of isolation. I would like to start immediately with the farthest squares.”

  Tilghman nodded. “Very well. The proper orders will be given immediately. You’re certain that the programming is correct?”

  “As certain as I can be. This is tricky. You might also realize that we will have to move directly on Mareh, before news of this gets out.”

  He nodded. “I know. Champion’s already on that end. but we’ve still got this one to do yet.”

  Sligh rose tiredly. but still managed a chuckle. “Adam, this is so audacious, so insane, it’s simply got to work. You have the damndest mind I’ve ever encountered.”

  Adam Tilghman shrugged. “What did you call it? Gall and guts. I think. That’s how you win.”

  Troops moved the miserable population through Flux, through restful-looking pockets which had water and some basic foods, then back again. Anchor Nantzee was somewhat heart-shaped, with its entrance gates at the north and south, as opposed to Anchor Logh’s east-west orientation and potato-like boundaries.

  When the marching refugees were near the brink of exhaustion, troops moved in and began to separate them. Resistance was strong, but the tired marchers were no match for fresh, well-armed soldiers who showed just how brutal they could be. Families were split as men and women were led to different grassy pockets, totally dependent on their captors for food, water, and rest.

  Sligh had used his master amplifier to duplicate itself many times; he had more than enough of the big machines for his purpose, and without moving them far. Sligh, however, was the first to admit that he was on new ground. It was one thing to feed one of the ancient modules in the machines to activate and carry out those instructions; it was quite another to attempt, as he was now, the actual mass transmission of a wizard’s complex spell that had to be both a group and an individualized phenomenon. It had been tried, successfully, on small groups of the pitiful survivors of Anchor Bakha, but never on this scale.

  The amplifiers went on, concentrating on a single “square” containing by the soldiers’ count eighty-four hundred and twelve women ranging in age from small children to advanced middle-age. The youngest were removed with the explanation that it was necessary to run them all through a sterilization procedure to eliminate the possibility of disease from the overcrowded conditions but that this procedure might well harm children below the age of five. They were positioned so that the children could be easily returned to them “in a matter of an hour.” There was again much resistance to this, but even the kindly soldiers turned very nasty very quickly when argued with.

  The spell was a variation of Coydt’s, the only complex one that they understood well enough to modify. Basically, it imposed the physiological rules of New Eden on all the women, which was in and of itself very limiting and genetically firm as well. The specific features were based upon the original’s appearance, but shaped and idealized to make them extremely attractive. They were now small, physically weak, at the mercy of their bodies, and also illiterate and unable to master mathematics, a guarantee that their status could never change. Beyond this, an overlay was created compelling acceptance of all this. They actually felt that their new form and limitations were right and proper, and were anxious to be taught the new system. It worked better than the originators had hoped. Where a milling and frightened throng of diverse women had been, there were now eighty-four hundred and twelve Fluxgirls, just waiting to be classified as tattooed.

  The men were trickier, for this was where much research and major modifications of the spell were made. Each kept his own sense of identity, but had an overlay impressed on them to totally and completely accept the new system without question, to unthinkingly obey the orders of all superiors, and to enthusiastically learn and embrace the new order. As a reward, they, too, now were all tall, muscular, and darkly handsome.

  There were deviations and aberrations in both squares, of course, and on these, perhaps four or five percent of the whole, a check was run by the amplifier program and they were either modified to fit the “norm” or were, if this proved impossible, quite simply eliminated.

  While refugees were still pouring from the gates, the process continued, a square at a time, and Champion’s army swelled with sudden new recruits. There would be no need for years of indoctrination and terror in the newly conquered Anchor; the population was simply being converted wholesale.

  And, with the exception of specialized units, and officers, the soldiers who would take the Anchor from those who remained and fought would be their own former friends and neighbors.

  The first of the specialized teams went in the night after the agreement had been made. Using odd-shaped devices the ancient writings had called “gliders” and a boost from Flux, teams soared over Anchor walls and landed, fully armed and ready with the
most sophisticated gear, near almost all the major factories and installations in Anchor Nantzee. Stun rays were used to counter any opposition within, and they held and secured key positions in a single night. Most of the casualties were due to bad landings and accidents, not hostile action. When the rebels came to blow up the plants, they would find it very difficult to do.

  A few had been wired already, and were gingerly defused.

  Other advanced teams of veterans came in over the walls during the ten-day truce period, to occupy and hold vital passes and the high ground. These met some scattered resistance, but managed to establish a sizeable presence. One such team, ordered to take a key town that sprawled on a hill overlooking the junction of major roads, was led by Colonel Weiz.

  Weiz, had been terrified getting to this point, and had only allowed himself the luxury of relaxing a bit now that they had pushed into Anchor so far with no incidents. The place was, in fact, eerily deserted, the farms quiet except for the milling about of confused animals, the small towns ghostly and unnerving. He was also very well aware that his troops, all professionals, resented his appointment as their commander over their own junior officers and were just waiting for him to make a mistake. Although a colonel, he commanded only a captain’s company; they weren’t risking a really major operation.

  They pulled up as they neared their objective, the town standing as quiet as the others, overlooking a crucial break in the mountains where two major rivers joined. Neither of the rivers were deep enough to be navigable, but alongside them were canals and a major roadway. An enemy holding this position for any length of time would cut the main road from the south gate to the industrially vital capital. Taken and held by determined defenders, they could deny vital reinforcements to the teams holding the important points in the capital until a major assault could be mounted to destroy the industry and deny the conquerors the spoils of their victory. Anchor Nantzee looked deserted, but there were almost two hundred thousand people unaccounted for, and a number of anti-New Eden outsiders as well. Each military detachment had a list with drawings of those outsiders, with orders to capture and hold if found.