Chaining the Lady c-2

by Piers Anthony

  “Salutation, Datok the Impact,” he said. “What brings you swimming here in such haste, unannounced?” This was, of course, a serious breach of form; an entity could get abruptly merged that way. But the Captain was taking it in stride, in his nonstriding fashion.

  “Sir, I must communicate with you privately,” Melody said. “Complete privacy.” Like him, she spoke sonically, using a vibrating mechanism inside her body. Sound was very efficient in water. Too efficient; their exchange would be audible far away.

  “My office is secure,” Llono said, swimming gracefully toward it. His general outline was similar to that of Melody’s host, but he lacked flippers; he moved by flexing his flattened, sinuous torso. An Undulant in motion was an elegant thing, justly praised in Spican lore.

  “Sir—I fear it is not,” Melody called hastily, thinking of the hostage Communications Officer who would surely have the office bugged.

  The Captain paused. Her remark about his office was insulting, but again he flowed with the wave, taking no offense. Llono was known for his extreme diplomacy. “Then we shall converse in the garden.”

  Melody plunged into her host-memory again. It really had been so much more convenient to have the Yael-host answer her questions; this constant spot-research was fatiguing. The garden was the single concession Llono made to his personal creature comfort. He was a career space entity, satisfied to live the rest of his life in this ship. But he missed the pretty vegetative life of his home seas. So he cultivated a garden. This was considered an anomaly, but not a serious one. He allowed officers and crew to swim through it on special occasions, and this contributed greatly to the morale of the ship. It was obvious that he believed Melody was angling for just such a swim, so he obliged. In the general stress engendered by the unexplained destruction of a neighboring spaceship, he was conscious of the needs of his crew. Melody found herself liking him.

  They entered the garden. Pastel-colored streamers floated vertically, anchored by organic weights and floats. They formed arches and passages, and they spread a flavor in the water that was delightful. This was a miniature Spican paradise!

  There were unlikely to be any mechanical listening devices here; the plants didn’t like electrical things, and they also tended to damp out sounds. They glowed faintly, their hues indicating their types. Some, she realized, were actually animals, with intricate filaments combing the water for sustenance, and long vinetails descending to the bottom. The plants needed some light, but the animals could get by without it. The ship’s main food supply was a special lake containing hardy, edible species of such animals, together with masses of plankton. But the Captain’s garden was more natural, seeded with sea-insects as well. Now Melody heard the gentle chirruping the animal-flowers made to attract those insects. Oh, this was lovely!

  The Captain halted. “Your message, Datok?” Gently spoken, but it had better be good!

  “I am not Datok,” Melody said. “I am a high-Kirlian transfer agent from Sphere Mintaka. If you touch me, you will feel the strength of my aura.”

  This was another social gaffe, with homosexual overtones, as Spicans did not touch each other apart from mating. But the Captain’s broad-mindedness rose to the occasion again. He undulated toward her, until he touched—barely. Melody felt his aura now: about 110. Very high, for such a position; had the segment had more warning of this crisis, he would have been conscripted for transfer duty.

  He evinced surprise. “I did not know auras of that magnitude existed! It must be double mine!”

  “Correct, Captain. Mine is the strongest aura recorded in Segment Etamin. I have taken over the body and mind of Datok in order to implement a mission for our galaxy. We are at war, again—with Galaxy Andromeda.” Quickly she explained the nature of the hostage threat, and her counter to it.

  “This is most serious business,” Captain Llono said. “I must accept your statement of the threat of hostaging, for you are obviously not Datok, and there has been no opportunity for any substitution of physical entities. But I have no certainty that you are not yourself Andromedan.”

  That made Melody pause. “Captain, you are astute! I had feared you would not accept my thesis. You are right; I must prove myself to you. But how may I do this?”

  “I am inclined to believe you. You would not have informed me of this Andromedan plot if you were yourself such an agent. Still, I am disinclined to take action without verification; your mind might operate more deviously than mine.”

  “Yes.” Melody remembered how she had assumed that Captain Dash Boyd of the Ace of Swords was loyal. Assumptions were treacherous. “I could relate to you certain obscure facets of Mintakan culture—”

  “I am not conversant with Sphere Mintaka, except with respect to space armament.”

  “I don’t know anything about armament, Captain. I was a mere old maid, unversed in military—”

  “Interesting you should mention your mating status. In this lies the proof.”

  “Captain, I don’t understand.” But she had a cold premonition.

  “When a Spican trio merges in the act of reproduction, the flesh and nervous systems overlap. The thoughts of each become known to the others, enhancing the unity. Generally these are notions of copulative appreciation— but a question of identity would also be clarified.”

  Beautiful! No deceit among lovers. But—“Captain… I can’t do it.”

  “Does the notion of merging with me repulse you?” Llono inquired sardonically. Obviously it was her galactic loyalty he was questioning; interpersonal attraction had little to do with Spican mating. Her refusal threw her whole statement into doubt.

  “Captain, such mergeance would very likely destroy me,” she said. “I would be unable to return to my human host.”

  “Why would you want to?”

  “I—” She stopped, unable to explain because she did not understand it herself. If she became male, she could transfer to male hosts, and eliminate some of the male hostages that seemed to be in the majority. Why not? “I’m an old female neuter,” she said, aware that this concept, virtually a crutch to her thinking, was not particularly clear to a non-Mintakan. “I can’t change now.” Ridiculous but true. She saw suddenly that this was another reason that she had never budded; she had become accustomed to her status, and didn’t care to change it. Such shifts of sex were all right for young entities, who could adapt to the new set of relationships, but she was far from young, and had grown much accustomed to her present status. She simply could not feel herself as male.

  “I regret the necessity,” Llono said. “But the matter you have raised is too vital to the welfare of our galaxy. I must insist.” He made a short piercing call.

  Another entity appeared. It was a Sibilant, jetting rapidly toward them in answer to the Captain’s summons. The third sex.

  For a moment Melody froze in place. She knew Llono was correct; the matter had to be decided, and this was the way to do it. She could not preserve her sex at the price of her galaxy. She played an internal chord of leave-taking from her human host, Yael of Dragon. Melody had come to love that girlchild, in her fashion. And there was another hidden motive surfacing in this instant of truth. How would Yael function by herself, bereft of transfer aura?

  Then she recognized, via the host/hostage minds, the approaching Spican. It was Zysax the Sibilant, ship Communications Officer—and a hostage.

  Melody’s flippers churned the water as she stroked rapidly away, almost getting snagged on one of the plants. Now she was really in trouble! The hostage would quickly catch on—and convince the captain that Melody, not Zysax, was the enemy. Even now Zysax and Llono were coming together, comparing notes…

  “What the discordance am I made of?” Melody demanded of herself. “The hostage is the very one I want in this trio!”

  She turned and stroked even more vigorously back toward the pair. Zysax did not see her; he was preoccupied by what the Captain was telling him. Llono saw her, but stayed put.

  Mel
ody gave a final heave of her flippers and launched into the pair. The force of the collision shoved her flesh right through theirs.

  Suddenly they were in the throes of mergence. “What have I done?” Melody asked herself in the despairing ecstasy of union, knowing that she had had to do it, whatever the personal consequence.

  You have proven your identity, Melody of Mintaka, Llono answered along her/their nerves. And you, Zysax—are hostage to a :: of Andromeda.

  :: I am betrayed! :: the alien entity cried.

  Melody sympathized, for her own reasons.

  They climaxed in literal explosion. The three entities flew apart, and a mass of merged flesh was torn from the bodies of Llono and Zysax. The Sibilant was now the parent of a little Sibilant, and Llono was the sire.

  Zysax and her baby slid out of sight beyond the veil of plants, driven by the force of the reproductive schism. It was important that there be an immediate separation after mergence, so that a trio would not be trapped into another cycle of mating. The Captain swam back, his body reorganizing after the loss of a sizable segment of flesh. Spicans were not solid in the manner of Solarians or Mintakans; their flesh was frothy and malleable, and the deletion of a chunk meant only a temporary inconvenience.

  “Now I possess data,” Llono said. “I shall promptly dispatch the remaining hostages, and send you back to your ship. In fact, I believe I will volunteer for transfer service myself; my aura is higher than that of most hostages.”

  “We can use you right now,” Melody said, surprised and grateful for his gesture. “But the work is dangerous.”

  “I am aware of that. However, it would be more dangerous to allow hostages to take control of a ship in this fleet whose weapons bear on my own ship.”

  “Irrefutable logic,” Melody agreed.

  “Doubtless. I got it from your mind.”

  They swam back to the Captain’s office, where he gave orders concerning the disposition of the hostages, and made new assignments to fill the vacated positions, including his own. “I would have been killed soon by the hostages,” he explained. “It is fitting that I employ the life I have recovered in an attempt to save the lives of my companion captains.”

  Then they swam into a shuttlecraft for the trip to the Ace of Swords The craft was of course filled with water, and was very heavy, so acceleration was slow. As the water cushioned even that thrust, Melody was hardly aware of their motion. Llono piloted it expertly, allowing Melody her thoughts. They were not happy ones.

  “You seem despondent, my recent mate,” Llono observed.

  “Its not a matter of galactic importance,” Melody said. “I simply haven’t gotten used to the notion of being male.”

  “Why should you have to?”

  “I had thought you understood. When Mintakan buds—”

  “I understand the convention. But this does not apply.”

  “You of all entities should certainly be aware that—”

  “Do you feel male?”

  “No,” she admitted uncertainly.

  “Then you have not changed. It is only your self-image that modifies, since your Mintakan body has not participated.”

  “But we merged! There was offspring!”

  “True, we merged. But you were neither Parent nor Sire.”

  Melody’s flippers wiggled. “I was the catalyst!” she exclaimed, realizing. “I caused it to happen—without giving of myself. I have not budded!”

  “I had supposed you understood,” Llono said. “That was a clever maneuver, retreating and returning, so as to assume the catalytic role. Had you not done so, you would have become the sire, and I the parent, a decidedly less convenient arrangement for us. I would not have been free to transfer, had I borne the child.”

  “I remain female…” Melody said, and somehow it seemed the most wonderful thing possible.

  12. Drone of Scepters

  COUNCIL INITIATED PARTICIPATING * — / :: oo

  *issue of new leadership*

  —if this must be, I propose slash—

  :: slash betrayed us to the enemy in the prior war! quadpoint will assume leadership concurrence? ::

  SILENCE

  *slash proposed for leadership concurrence?*

  CONCURRENCE

  /grant me a period to orient my lasers and sharpen my blades there will be another council soon/

  *POWER*

  — / oo CIVILIZATION oo / —

  :: (fools!) ::

  There were a series of minor problems, such as identifying themselves to Skot of Kade and getting their water-borne bodies into the transfer unit without suffering damage. Skot was being ably assisted by Yael, who seemed to be enjoying her tour as a self-determined adventuress. The two of them and Slammer got the transfer unit set up at the edge of the temporary pool in the hold, and helped first Llono and then Melody flop into the unit. Gravity was so slight that the maneuvers were not as hard as anticipated. In fact their main concern was preventing the water from vaporizing every time the air pressure was reduced by their travels.

  Llono went to another Spican ship whose captain he knew personally; he expected to have all the Cups washed in due course.

  Melody tried for another Polarian Disk, expecting to bounce again. But this time she got through—and found herself in the body of the hostage Polarian captain. This was a marvelous break. She was able without fuss to arrest the three other hostages her memory identified, and to explain things to the ranking Polarian, whom she installed as new captain. The Andromedans here were all from Sphere *, of interest to Melody because of the Lot of *, but she did not try to comprehend the nuances of their five sexes. In their natural state they were serpentine entities that twisted into complex convolutions, every knot having significance; perhaps this made it easier for them to occupy the tailed Polarians. Melody was beginning to recognize certain broad families of Andromedans corresponding to those of the Milky Way. Some were foot walkers, some borers, some fliers, some swimmers. As with families of auras, they fell naturally into functional categories.

  She returned to the flagship to discover that Llono the Undulant had already completed his first mission and gone out again. That was one efficient entity! Their nucleus of “safe” ships was now four. Given enough time and luck, the whole Fleet might be redeemed bloodlessly! Skot and Yael were working so well together that Melody began to wonder whether her return to her human host would be welcome.

  She had freed the Ace of Swords, the Four of Cups, and the Three of Disks. Time to try a Canopian Wand, or Scepter. The particular term did not matter in Tarot; it was the concept that counted.

  Skot activated the unit—and Melody bounced right back. “All right… try another Wand,” she said, vibrating her Polarian-host ball against the floor. This was a nice body! “I want to be sure of at least one of each kind of ship.”

  But the second Wand bounced also, and the third. “Either they’re all loyal,” she said, “or they have no moderate-Kirlian female hostages.” She considered a moment. “Let’s try a straight transfer instead of a hostage takeover; they just might have a vacant female host. Canopians are smart about things like that” So Skot adjusted the setting and tried it again.

  This time she found herself in a humanoid host. For a moment she was confused; then she remembered that the Canopian insectoid Masters used humanoid slaves. Naturally any hosts they reserved would be of this type!

  She explored her new mind. No… this was not a prepared host. This was $fe of Y◊jr. Y◊jr was, or had once been, a warrior planet/tribe, with fierce people and primitive customs, $fe was a Slave, but she was fiercely loyal to her Master. The ferocity of independence in her genetic makeup had converted nicely to the ferocity of dependence. Her Master’s fall from power had created such stress in her that her aura had vacated.

  Melody rechecked that, dubious. It was true: $fe’s Master was her life, and evil to his person was evil to her soul. The concept of his loss of power was literally unthinkable to her. So here she sat in a
state of collapse—and because she was merely a slave, and not even an important one, no one had even noticed her demise.

  Melody held her position while she worked out more of her current situation, $fe of Y◊jr was body-Slave to Drone. Drone? Melody had to plumb a welter of concepts here. Canopian Masters were known by combinations of letters and numbers, such as A:::5, F:::3. They were essentially neuter, or neutered females, like the worker-bees of Sphere Sol. This explained why Melody had bounced on her previous attempts., She was also a neuter female, but the direction differed. She had proceeded from neuter to female, while Canopians went from female to neuter, becoming essentially male in their final evolution. She could not identify with that! The slave, in contrast, was a full female humanoid like Yael of Dragon, capable of reproduction, but virginal. Much better associations, there!

  But this Drone Master—ah, here it was! Every initially female Canopian entity possessed the potential to become a full female if properly fed; a queen. But queens never went to space. They mated with full males, or drones, the only truly masculine Masters. A drone, in the insectoid hierarchy, was parallel to a queen, but since only one drone could mate with a queen, the others became expendable. So they went to space—as captains of ships. Because they were not stunted neuters, they did not fit the mechanistic classification system; but since only one was aboard each ship, he needed no private designation. He was simply the Drone, the Captain—the ultimate authority. For reference between ships of the Canopian contingent, this was the Drone of the Deuce of Scepters.

  Melody looked up. Across the chamber from her stood the Drone. He was huge, much larger than ordinary Masters, and beautiful. Bright bands of color traversed his abdomen, and his wings were iridescent. His six limbs were stout and strong, his mandibles powerful, like monstrous pincers. There must have been a time in the evolution of the species when the drone was the warrior-king, the fiercest fighter of the tribe, protecting the queen and minions. But most compelling were his eyes: two great multi-faceted crystals that reflected the light of the room like little mirrors. Hundreds of miniature images, like the massed thought of his great mind…