When The Changewinds Blow

by Jack L. Chalker

  "That's great! But won't the warehouse guards be able to tell him that no such royal visitor showed up?"

  "No problem, darling! They are three shifts. He will believe. Why should he not?"

  "Well, do it, then. But that doesn't solve any problems now." She told the alchemical artist about the problem of Ladai. "You see-if Ladai's tale gets back to here, then Kligos is gonna remember the boy and die girl with Zenchur and put two and two together and he'll be back here fast figuring you're just stiffing him for the fifty thousand." She did a quick translation for Charley's benefit.

  Charley was also thinking. "I wonder if we're ever gonna get out of the frying pan or the fire? Well, you're right. We can't stay here, but we can't go, either. Once that story gets out they'll be looking for us. They'll have the city and this little country bottled up, maybe for weeks. You're not so bad off, so long as you got that jewel and you aren't around me. Kligos saw you close up but without the magic. That-spell-or whatever it is takes you and cancels out everything, and I mean everything, feminine, and it tightens you up a lot and makes you seem taller. Not real tall, but taller'n me, anyway. I think you can get away with walkin' right past this Kligos, so long as that spell holds, and if not you can zap him with the jewel. Now, he also saw me, and he knows what Boday does, so I think he'd still make me, though. And where can I go in this straight society, like this, and without the language?"

  Sam explained the problem to Boday, who thought for a moment.

  "First, then, my love, you must get your tittle bauble attached, so to speak. That way the spell holds. Once Boday's genius solves your problem we can think about your friend's, yes?"

  She went over to the lab counter, reached down, pulled open a big drawer, and started rummaging through the largest collection of baubles, bangles, and beads Sam had ever seen. She would stop every once in a while, pulling out a wound roll of thin gold chain at one point, then a starburst backing. She reached for a bubbling chemical beaker, then said, "Remove all from the waist up. Let Boday see what she can do."

  First a length of thin gold chain was measured so it would fit comfortably around Sam's neck but not with enough play that it could be taken off over the face. "Now your pretty bauble," said the alchemist.

  Sam was reluctant to hand it over, even to Boday. "But I will change back into a girl," she noted. "Will you still love me anyway?"

  "Not to worry, darling! Boday always has played both sides of the street. She saw you briefly when you proved yourself to your friend. Nice body. Much like hers, I think. Boday could do wonders with you."

  Sam had forgotten that lapse. So it didn't matter. Whatever bond that potion created was more than just appearance. Or, perhaps, because Boday saw the change there was now no difference in her altered mind between the illusory male vision and Sam's real self.

  Expertly, and in very short order, the Jewel of Omak was mounted on a strong backing and held there with folds in the setting and some kind of alchemical bonding. Sam hoped she didn't have it on backward. Then the gem and setting, on a slightly longer chain, was bonded to the neck chain. Again, the fusion appeared seamless, but that thing was on. It might be cut off, but never would it fall off.

  But the other problems would be tougher to solve. It seemed like every fix they'd gotten into had been resolved more by dumb luck than brains, and there was a limit to how much you could count on that, but that wasn't the real depressing thought. It was that every time a super grade problem had been solved it had created new ones that looked just as or even more formidable.

  "Ask her if she's got something to eat," Charley said to Sam. "I'm starved."

  Suddenly Sam's own hunger and thirst came back full force. "You have anything we can eat? It's been a long time."

  Boday brightened. "Anything and everything for you, my darling! Wait, and Boday shall create a masterpiece!"

  They settled initially, though, for some wine, fresh bread, and cheese, which helped the two of them from getting more nauseous. Boday, however, was in her kitchen making a great racket, but soon the smells coming into the lab were pleasant, overwhelming the chemicals still on the boil.

  "It's too bad we can't just stay here," Charlie sighed. "This is the first time I've felt reasonably comfortable in a long time.

  It would be nice if it'd last, but I keep sitting here expecting eight big bruisers to crash through the door any minute."

  "I know. I been tryin' to figure something but nothing's coming. We just don't know this town, let alone this world, well enough, and I keep remembering that sight from the cliffs-the green hills changing like that into tall mountains. Even if we could get out of this place we'd be screwed without somebody to take us. Navigators and Pilots, they call 'em. Like ships. And Kligos told Zenchur that just to get a Pilot who don't talk or ask questions would be five hundred or whatever they call their money here. If we also needed a navigator, it might cost a fortune, and we don't even know how far it is we're supposed to go."

  To Boday the entire world existed for most people to go about drab, colorless, irrelevant lives while she existed to put artistry there. It extended to her cooking, too, even when doing something essentially quick and dirty in the kitchen. Admittedly some of the colors of some of the items looked more than a bit artificial and odd, but the arrangement, the preparation and look of each item, and, frankly, the smells and taste were really good. They already knew that the food in this part of this world was either basic meat and potatoes or very spicy, even hot, but they had never had things that tasted this uniformly different and good. Neither Sam nor Charley, however, had the guts to ask what any of it was.

  Kligos's arrival a bit later, however, forced some improvising. Charley was kept out of sight, but Sam decided it was time to test just what good this magic spell might be before an expert in phoneyness. She had gotten this far on guts and she was beginning to learn confidence in a big way. She was prepared, though, to use the jewel at close range if she had to.

  "Oh, darling! Boday has the most wonderful news and the most terrible news!" Boday gushed to the tough but slick-looking gangster. "The wonderful first. She is in love! This is Sandwir! Isn't he cute?"

  "Adorable," the big man grumbled, nodding to but barely giving a second glance otherwise to Sam. Test passed. "He looks like he might take awhile for you to wear out. What's the terrible news?"

  "Ah! Boday is crestfallen! She is desolate! Pamquis-he's the ratty little fellow from the Chancellor's Office-came by today to see about something for the regency celebration and he saw your little darling!"

  Kligos's face froze into a hard and mean look. "I don't want to hear what I think you're gonna tell me, do I?"

  Boday threw an arm up to her forehead in mock despair. "Darling! What can Boday say but what happened? Those two terrible words-'royal prerogative.' He asked who had brought her and I told him, of course, and all he did was grin evilly and-oh, it is confiscation! What must Boday do to atone, but what could she do in the face of those words?"

  "Sons of bitches," Kligos grumbled. "She was a lot of trouble to get, too. I wish I'd let my men have at her. Then there wouldn't be no 'royal prerogative' with my property! Well, at least no money's been paid yet. Damn! She was worth a hundred a night minimum!"

  "Boday knows, darling! And she, too, is out much investment. She is as blackmailed as any. What can she say? He insisted on the potion right then and there as usual. Apparently they hold a grudge for that switch we pulled last year. Can you ever forgive this?"

  Kligos sighed. "Forgive, yeah. Forget, no. Those highborn royal bastards. It's not enough that we got to pay 'em a percentage just to operate in this town. No, they steal, too, and smile about it. All right, couldn't be helped. But cut rate on the next one, you hear?"

  "Boday will create a masterpiece for you! She promises!"

  The gangster had a look of total disgust, but he turned around and left, slamming the door behind him. He looked in a foul enough mood to go out and torture a few women and children just to
get it out of his system.

  "That is a dangerous man," Sam noted worriedly. "Right now, he's our biggest worry, too. At least he didn't recognize me, I'm sure of that. But he's dangerous and smart or he wouldn't be where he is."

  Boday shrugged. Such things were beneath her notice. "Still, we have a few days. He does not connect you and her, my sweet. Come. Let us go back and you can tell your worries to Boday and she will try and solve them."

  "It's simple. There's an Akhbreed sorcerer trying to kill me by any means he can, and there's another who wants me alive and in his company, maybe just because he hates the other sorcerer so bad he wants something to hold over him. I don't know the reason. Our sorcerer can't come to us because he's real powerful, but maybe not powerful enough to match this guy on his home turf. Maybe he's got friends here that can outnumber our man, so our man can't come to us. If we can sneak in and get to him, though, then we're under his power and protection and he can help us. Zenchur was supposed to get us someplace where we could be taught the ropes in this world, then to the sorcerer, but that's out now. I don't even know where this guy is in relation to where we are. I wish I did."

  Boolean is chief sorcerer of Masalur, said a familiar voice in her head. Masalur is two hubs northwest and two hubs due west of that. Add in the seven sectors, or wedges, required for traversal and the nulls as well as the hub traversals and the distance would be approximately four thousand five hundred and six kilometers.

  She had forgotten that the jewel was now against her chest and that a wish was a wish.

  "Darling! Lover! What is the matter? Do you feel ill?"

  "Yeah, maybe," Sam responded. "I just got the answers to my questions from my magic jewel and now I'm like Kligos. I didn't really want to know. Four hubs, seven sectors-it says the distance is . . ." Suddenly in her mind some measures appeared but they were meaningless. "How big's a leeg?"

  "Oh, how can it be put? From here near the water to the tall buildings in the center of town is a bit less than two leegs, my love."

  From her rooftop vantage point she'd seen some lights in the spires of those buildings and she now guessed them to be about a mile in. A leeg, then, was about half a mile, and a kilometer wasn't much more than that.

  "Would you believe about five thousand leegs, maybe a little less?" Well over two thousand miles and eleven countries with God knew what!

  "Boday believes all that you tell her, love. That sounds about right. Sectors average about six hundred leegs, give or take, and hubs about four hundred across. This one is four hundred fifteen across."

  Then they weren't that standard. Still, it was pretty depressing, and Charley wasn't exactly cheered when clued in, either.

  "We can't do that distance on our own," Sam told Boday.

  The artist nodded. "No one could, not even Boday. You would need a navigator just to start with. Such a one could arrange for the proper Pilots as well as plot the routes and outfit the trip, but this is not cheap. A navigator for such a distance would easily cost two thousand sarkis. Particularly one who would be basically loyal and might defend his client against attack. Say twenty-five hundred just to be sure. Pilots who will just do their jobs and not ask questions are easily five hundred each, and you need-what?-seven of them. No pilots necessary for the hubs. They're all our kind, darling, and they stay the same most of the time. Now we are at six thousand. Then there are supplies. One would not wish to walk if it can be avoided, yes? Two thousand more. And then there will be expenses on the trails, and in both sectors and hubs. The more money the merrier but two thousand minimum. Let's see-that is ten thousand sarkis. I think I know where Zenchur was supposed to take you. It is where Boday was perfected! But it is southwest-add six more, you see. Another three or four thousand and another three thousand or more leegs."

  "Yeah? What's so special about that place, anyway?"

  "It is-university. You go there, whatever you need to learn, they teach you."

  "Not whatever you want, whatever you need," Sam noted. "And who decides what you need?"

  "Oh, they do, darling! And they know. Those who decide are all Akhbreed sorcerers. Those without positions, those studying further, those who have retired or do not wish positions. They know, lover. They know. Boday was an artist. A good artist. They did not teach her design. No, they teach her alchemy. The secrets of arts and potions. It is where sorcerers learn to be sorcerers, and heroes and heroines learn how to be heroes and heroines, or navigators, or Pilots, or any other great skills."

  "Yeah, and what does it cost to go there?"

  "Cost? Precious, it does not cost! Only a graduate or a fully ranked sorcerer can send you. Then you must do him service if and when he or she needs it."

  "She? There are female sorcerers?"

  "Oh, of course, darling! Not many in the hubs thanks to this foul male-dominated system, but many indeed. But why talk about it? It would take probably five thousand to get there at all. How much money do you have now?"

  Sam removed the change purse and handed it to Boday, then gave a running translation of what was going on. "So how much we got?" Charley asked.

  "That's what I'm finding out."

  "Find out how much she's worth, too."

  "You have four hundred and twelve sarkis, two ilium and seven pillux. A nice sum but it would not even get a Pilot. All that is Boday's is yours, dear one, but money has never been something she has been terribly good at keeping. The filthy pigs of art critics have always insulted her sculptures. The ones here are priceless, of course, but they would bring little money so long as Boday lives. When she dies they will discover her, though, and then they will be priceless treasures. This place is leased, paid up in advance for a year, but no refunds, and subletting a place like this would be very difficult. I have, perhaps, two thousand cash, and another thousand in jewelry and chemicals, but those would bring little if sold in haste or desperation, perhaps a quarter of their worth."

  "So we're only halfway if we went to this university or whatever it is," Charley noted after hearing the translation. "And it's south and Boolean's north. So whatever they teach us, if it isn't how to fly we'll wind up dead broke with most of the distance yet to go."

  "So you think we shouldn't head there? I mean, that's where Boolean wanted us but it's also not only out of the way but where Ladai might be watchin' and waitin'."

  Charley sighed. "We probably should go. Somehow I feel it's bound up in all this. And he said we'd be safe there from all enemies, which would be real neat. But we don't dare go broke. Without that extra thousand then when they kick us outta there we're like up shit's creek."

  Sam nodded and turned back to Boday. "Stuck again. Not enough money to go most anywhere, it seems. Five thousand for this university, ten thousand to get to Boolean, and fifteen thousand for both. It's a huge amount of money, I know. We can't go, and we can't stay here."

  Boday looked at Charley. "Boday gets perhaps two, three commissions a month. Kligos is not likely to use us again for a while, so there would be at most two. Even if she is frugal, that is at best a thousand a month less two hundred or so for expenses." She sighed and looked at Charley. "It is a pity that Boday cannot complete her creation on this one. Kligos was right-a hundred a night easily, perhaps more. Satisfied customers have been known to double or triple the payment, and clients of Boday creations are always satisfied."

  Charley looked at Sam. "What did she say? Come on-I want it all. I saw her looking at me."

  "She said at the rate she's doing her girls it'd be one to two years before we'd have enough. She said-well, she said it's too bad you can't be put to work, you might say. Kligos said you was worth a hundred a night minimum, and Boday says, well, there's tips."

  Charley looked amazed. "A hundred a night? Me?"

  "I guess it's true. I mean, Kligos was willin' to shell out a thousand to Zenchur for you and another five hundred or so to Boday. He don't do that 'less he figures you'll make back lots more."

  Charley was incredulous. "A t
housand to Zenchur and five hundred to Boday? You mean I'd be worm fifteen hundred of these sarkis just on my potential as a whore? That's ten percent of all the money we'd need?"

  "Damn it all, you're lookin' pleased! We're talking men paying money and you sellin' your damn body!"

  "Yeah," she responded, still sounding more amazed than shocked. She realized how terrible she sounded, but she had never been considered pretty or glamorous before, and she had always thought of herself as something of the Ugly Duckling that grew up and turned into the Ugly Duck. The last time she'd gone to bed with a guy she'd gotten a Big Mac, fries, Coke, and mountains of fear and guilt the guy didn't have to deal with at all. The idea that men would pay her, and big, was too ego-boosting for her to dismiss even though she knew it was wrong. Jeez! Kligos shells out fifteen hundred and makes it back in-what?-fifteen days? Impossible. Then he has her for, like, years.

  Boday couldn't help but interpret Charley's reactions, and smiled. "She is impressed, yes?"

  "Yeah," Sam growled, feeling very uncomfortable. Damn it, she thought she knew Charley, and first this thing about killing and now she's actually impressed by her price. "But to just sell your body ..."

  "Oh, it's not merely that. Sex is cheap!" Boday noted. "Boday's creations are no common tramps. Not her creations! It is an evening, with men, perhaps one, perhaps several. Impressing and entertaining business clients, you see. You receive them, prepare and serve a meal that they pay for additionally, then you might entertain-sing, dance, whatever. Make them feel good, feel important. Your client might wish to be bathed, or massaged. Whatever. If he wants sex, you give it to him, whichever way he wants it. He might not even want it. He might just want a sympathetic ear to tell his problems to who'll treat him with sympathy and respect. In the end, he pays you the hundred, maybe more-sometimes much more- if you gave him just what he wanted. It is never quite the same."