Exiles at the Well of Souls

by Jack L. Chalker

  More and more appeared as darkness fell. They were coming out of cracks in the ground, they observed—small cracks they would never have noticed otherwise. The natives seemed to rise like wraiths, fully extended, then curl up or flow or whatever, pulling out in a different direction and heading, mostly, their way. There was a regular assembly now, a rainbow of weird flowing and undulating shapes.

  Finally, they seemed to reach some sort of decision or consensus. They crowded around the humans, so thick it was impossible to see. Then, very deliberately, a narrow opening appeared to one side. They waited.

  "I think we're being directed someplace," Trelig noted. "Shall we go?"

  "Better than collapsing here and dying in another hour or two," Yulin replied. "You lead, or shall I?"

  Trelig started walking, then Zinder, and finally Yulin. That they were being led somewhere was quickly apparent—the opening continued, but the area they vacated was closed in by the strange creatures.

  Yulin checked his air supply. About two hours, he noted. He hoped wherever they were going wasn't far off.

  That thought was in all their minds, along with the last shreds of doubt, when, a little over an hour later, they reached a rock outcrop. A huge number of the creatures was there—perhaps many thousands. Some had obviously assembled there because of them, but others seemed to be carrying on all sorts of deliberate but unfathomable business.

  "Yulin! Look!" Trelig called excitedly.

  Ben Yulin peered into the star-lit darkness at the cliff's face, and, for a moment, didn't see what had attracted the other man. Finally he could make out a deeper blackness against the cliff.

  "A cave?" he asked, feeling disappointed. "Hell, we've been taken to their leader or something."

  "No! No!" Trelig protested. "My Renard eyes must be better than your Mavra Chang's. Look at the shape of the hole!"

  Yulin peered again, approaching closer. It was large—perhaps two meters on each of its six sides. Six sides?

  "A hexagon!" Yulin exclaimed, hardly able to contain himself. "They got the message!"

  "We'll see," Trelig responded. "Obviously they mean for us to enter the thing, and we might as well. Air's running out anyway. All set?"

  "Okay, let's go," Yulin replied, praying again that they would not enter a cave that was just the seat of government of these folks.

  Trelig went first. He didn't seem to enter a cave or hole—he just stepped forward, seemed frozen for an instant, then vanished. Yulin prodded Zinder next, but the scientist knew the air situation as well as they did. He stepped in, and to the same effect. Ben Yulin took an expensive deep breath, held it, and stepped in, too.

  * * *

  It was a strange sensation, like falling down a great, endless hole. It was nasty and unpleasant, but they had to endure it.

  The sensation ended as suddenly as it began, bringing them out in a strange sort of cave inhabited by more of the flowing creatures.

  The other two were already there.

  "Oh, no!" Yulin swore, heart sinking. "Just a shuttle system!"

  Trelig was just about to reply when a ghostly figure quite unlike any of them, humans or creatures, appeared. It was huge—three meters at least, and almost as big around. It had nasty-looking claws and sets of insectlike legs, and it was encased in some kind of protective artificial shell.

  "What the hell?" Trelig managed, but then he saw the figure make a very recognizable "follow me" gesture with its great claws, turn, and start down the cave.

  "Our new guide," speculated Yulin. "I think I like the paint smears better. Well, let's get going. Air's getting low."

  They went through a passage, then a doorway slid out, and they found it was some kind of air lock. It closed behind them, then opened ahead after a few moments. The creature had gone ahead but, they saw, it waited for them outside.

  Outside proved to be a long, broad hallway made of some orange-white crystalline material that sparkled. The whole area was lit up, and Yulin wasn't the only one that noticed the rows of doorways in hexagonal shapes. The hallways, however, were almost rounded, with no sharp corners.

  The large insectlike creature walked slowly down the corridor, and they followed. It seemed like a long journey, and it took more than twenty minutes by Ben Yulin's air timer.

  Suddenly the hall opened onto a huge chamber. Huge was hardly the word for it. The chamber had six sides, which seemed almost natural by now; but the enclosure was so enormous that it took some time to establish that fact. The center area was in the shape of an enormous glassy hexagon, too, and around the sides stretched a railing and what appeared to be a walkway. A single great six-sided light, like a great jewel, was suspended from the center of the mammoth ceiling, providing all the light.

  The walkway was just that, and more. The big creature got on it, walked down so they could also step onto the vinyllike, spongy surface, then it pressed some indistinguishable area on the wall.

  They almost tumbled over as the walkway started to move.

  It took about ten minutes to go halfway around to another break in the wall. There were openings in the rail to go down to the glassy surface, but they passed them up. Eventually they stopped, and the weird creature, which seemed to them to be much like a lobster made of transparent glass, went slowly down a new hallway.

  They reached a room, much smaller than either the big chamber or the cave. It had an air lock, too, but it was an almost perfect square. The ceiling and three of the walls looked normal, including the door area.

  The fourth was blackness absolute.

  "Looks like another transfer," Trelig noted. "I hope we get to our kind of air in the next forty minutes."

  "Thirty-six," Yulin replied glumly. He'd been checking it every half-minute.

  "They're not going to let us die," said Trelig confidently. "They've gone to too much trouble." He stepped unhesitatingly into the blackness, followed by Zinder, and then Yulin.

  Again they experienced that falling sensation, longer this time. Yulin worried about how long it might be and wanted to check the timer, but vision was impossible.

  They emerged in an identical room. In fact, all three could have sworn that they'd gone no place. That puzzled and disturbed them. Yulin's timer still read close to thirty-six, which meant that the long fall they'd just taken had consumed no time. That was impossible, he told himself. And then he noticed—a slight humming sound, a tiny whine.

  And the timer was going up.

  "Trelig! We've got power! The electrical system is processing again!" he almost screamed.

  The excitement and relief swept over them. Trelig, ever practical, broke the mood.

  "Remember that we're being manipulated by someone," he cautioned. "They may know more than we think. Remember, you, that you're Mavra Chang, pilot, and no one else, and that I'm Renard. Don't ever use any other name again!" The words were icy, nasty, cutting. "If they question us together, let me do most of the talking. If separately, tell the truth up to the point where we changed it. You don't know who was in the other ship! Understand?"

  Yulin calmed down.

  Suddenly the door slid open, and a third kind of creature entered.

  They all stared at it, still not used to the changing wonders of the races of the Well World. It was a little under two meters tall with a thick, smooth, green-skinned body ending in two round, thick legs without apparent joint, supported by broad, flat-bottomed round cuplike feet. Two spindly arms grew from a point just above its midsection and seemed to have smaller divisions at the tips. The head, which sat atop an impossibly thin neck, looked like a green jack-o'-lantern, with its mouth in a permanent expression of surprise, and two nonblinking, almost luminous saucers for eyes. No sign of a nose or ears, Yulin noted. Atop it all grew a single huge, broad leaf that seemed to have a life of its own, slowly moving toward the strongest light source.

  The creature held a piece of cardboard or something similar in its left tentacles, then lifted the board in front of it, angling it so th
ey could read. The message was in standard Confederation plain talk, bearing out Trelig's suspicion that the denizens of this world were far from ignorant of them or their nature. It said, in block-printed crayon:

  YOU MAY REMOVE YOUR SUITS. THE AIR IS

  BREATHABLE. WHEN YOU HAVE FINISHED,

  FOLLOW ME TO BRIEFING.

  Trelig accepted the guarantee and pressed the releases to flip back his helmet bubble. He took a breath, and the air was good. Satisfied, he switched off the backpack. The suit collapsed, seemed to grow and melt into a puddle of synthetic cloth at his feet. He helped Zinder do the same. Yulin started to, but suddenly fell horribly nauseous; blood suddenly clogged in his throat, and pain wracked him everywhere.

  He collapsed and passed out.

  Teliagin

  In the early afternoon of the third day, the one thing Mavra Chang feared more than the rain happened.

  They ran out of woods.

  Not much, of course. This was pastoral country, and the woods picked up about a kilometer away. But here was a broad plain, grassy and lumpy, and crisscrossed by several of the dirt roads, on which there was a great deal of traffic. They watched from the edges of the clearing as great cyclopses went back and forth, to and fro, some alone, some carrying large sheepskin bags, some pulling large wooden carts with hand-carved wooden wheels, laden with all sorts of things.

  "Look on the bright side," Mavra told them. "At least we know now we haven't been going in circles."

  Renard nodded. "Yes, we're a long ways from where we landed. But are we going the right way?"

  Mavra shrugged. What was the wrong way? The one that got you caught. In that case, this might definitely be the wrong way.

  "We could follow the woods to the left for a while," she suggested. "Maybe it connects someplace down that road. We've crossed roads before."

  "Don't look like it," Renard observed. He was talking more normally today, but his sentences were shorter and less complex, and he wasn't even thinking in those big words any more.

  Mavra Chang sighed. "Then we'll have to stay here until nightfall. We sure can't cross now with all those creatures there." She didn't like that; although the hypno conditioning, renewed the night before, kept the two unaware of their condition, the mental deterioration was becoming evident in Renard and more so in Nikki. Precious hours would mean that much more lost.

  "I don't wanna get eaten," Nikki Zinder proclaimed. "You remember that one we saw? Ate that sheep in three big gulps."

  Mavra remembered. They would stay hidden until after nightfall, when the traffic thinned out. She had no idea whether any of her lethal defenses she'd bragged so much to Renard about would work on those behemoths—and she had no desire to try. She wasn't as much of a mouthful as that sheep had been.

  They settled down, and all started to doze on and off. They were tired and worn; the sponge effect was also body-wide, although more apparent in the thought processes. The other two tired more quickly, and their coordination was shot. As for Mavra, she'd gotten very little sleep since before landing on New Pompeii, and fatigue was starting to tell on her. Will power could only sustain so far, and she knew it, even though she wouldn't admit that to herself. She slept.

  Renard awoke first. He'd only been slightly asleep anyway, thanks to Mavra's rest-inducing hypno of the past nights. He crawled to the edge of the plain. Still a lot of traffic, maybe not as much as before, but it would be sure capture to go out there now.

  He crawled back. Mavra was so sound asleep she didn't hear him, but Nikki stirred, opened her eyes, and looked at him.

  "Hi!" she whispered.

  "Shhh!" he cautioned, putting his finger to his lips. He ambled over to her.

  She looked up at him with slightly dulled large brown eyes. "Do you think we can croth it?" she asked. The lisp had appeared as time had worn on.

  "Yes, later on," he soothed, and she shifted next to him.

  "Renard?"

  "Yes, Nikki?"

  "I'm thscared."

  "We all are," he told her honestly. "We just have to keep going."

  "Not her," the girl replied, pointing to Mavra. "I don't think anything could thscare her."

  "She's just learned to live with fear," he soothed. "She knows how to be scared without letting it get to her. You have to do that, too, Nikki."

  She shook her head. "Ith's more than that. I don' wanna die, sure, but—if I gotta—I . . ." She trailed off, searching for the words.

  He didn't understand, and said so. She was quiet for a moment, then finally said, "Rennie? Will you make love to me?"

  "Huh?" The very idea startled him.

  "I want to have it, do it, juth once. Juth in cathe." There were almost tears in her eyes, and a pleading voice. "I don' wanna die without doin' it juth onth."

  He looked over at the sleeping Mavra Chang, then down at the pathetic girl next to him, and wondered how, in the face of certain death, you could still get into bad situations. He thought about it for a while, trying to make up his mind. Finally, he decided. Why not? he thought. What's the harm? And it was one thing, at least, he could do for somebody else that he couldn't foul up.

  * * *

  Mavra Chang awoke with a start and looked around. It was dark—she'd been sleeping for quite some time. Suddenly, she had a headache and various other aches and pains from sleeping so hard and in one position. Solid sleep.

  She looked around, spotted Renard and Nikki reclining, backs against a broad tree. She was asleep, and he was half-asleep, his arm around the plump girl. Mavra could see in a moment what had happened; there was little way to clean up here. It bothered her, and it bothered her that it bothered her. Possibly because she could not understand it.

  She turned and crept up to the edge of the clearing. Not much traffic or signs of traffic now. Occasionally a cart would go by, two torches blazing from holders in its side grotesquely half-illuminating the strange creature that pulled it; but clearly traffic was at a minimum. She doubted the cyclopses had good night vision; they seemed mostly inactive after sunset, active from first light.

  She crept back to the pair, who hadn't moved, and gently woke them up. Nikki seemed to be calmer, which was good, but worse mentally. Mavra wondered if the effect accelerated despite what Renard had told her, or if it was just more noticeable when you started to get down below the normal level.

  "We're about ready to go across," she told them. "We'll go as far as we can tonight to try and make up the lost time."

  "We gon' run 'croth?" Nikki asked, sounding almost eager.

  "No, Nikki, not run," she replied patiently and slowly. "We will walk across, slowly and nicely."

  "But th' big thing'll thee uth!" the girl protested.

  "There aren't many of them," Mavra told her. "And if one comes near, we'll just lie down and be quiet and wait for it to go away."

  Renard looked at Nikki and patted her hand. She liked that, and snuggled up a little to him. "Let's go now, Nikki," he said gently.

  They got up and made their way to the edge of the plains. No torches or carts in sight except two dim lights far off in the distance. Probably the same one that Mavra had seen, going away, she guessed.

  "Okay, let's all walk now, nice and easy," she told them, taking Nikki's right hand in her left and Renard's left hand in her right. They started out.

  The crossing was almost too easy. The cloud cover had remained, making the surroundings even blacker, and there was literally nobody on the roads. They crossed the clearing in about twenty minutes with no problems, and Mavra wished that all her troubles and worries were so easily laid to rest.

  But then the rain started. Not a bad rain, or a big storm, but a steady rain that was warm but uncomfortable. It quickly turned the ground into mud and soaked them through. Nikki seemed to enjoy it, but it was miserable going, and the trees didn't offer much protection.

  Mavra Chang cursed. The mud was becoming deeper and more treacherous, and they couldn't keep going much longer in this kind of mess.
More lost time, with time running out on her.

  Then the wind started to pick up, chilling their soaked bodies to the bone, forcing her hand. She found some shelter, a grove of particularly tall, broad trees growing close together that afforded a measure of dryness, and they settled down and huddled together for all the good it did.

  * * *

  The next morning dawned brighter and dryer, but only because the clouds had thinned and it had stopped raining on them. They all looked a mess, mud-caked, with hair tangled and mud-clumped.

  Renard was disturbed. "I can't seem to think so good," he told her with obvious distress. "I can't seem to think of things any more. Why is that, Mavra?"

  She felt a consuming pity for the man, but she couldn't answer his question. Nikki, of course, was even worse. She'd found a mud-puddle and was happily playing in it, splashing around and making some sort of mud cakes. She looked up as they approached.

  "Hi!" she called out. She reached down and picked up a mud pie. "Thee what I made?"

  Mavra sighed and thought fast. A glance at the sun had told her that they'd been moving roughly east, but how far and at what angle?

  She thought fast about the pair she now had on her hands. Renard was still capable of handling himself, but for how much longer? As for Nikki—she was sinking almost before Mavra Chang's eyes. Something had to be done to keep them under control.

  She put them both under quickly, finding she had to choose her words carefully so they could follow her.

  "Nikki, you don't remember anything about who you are except that your name is Nikki. Understand?"

  "Uh huh," the girl acknowledged.

  "Now, you're a very little girl, and I am your mommy. You love your mommy and always do what she says, don't you?"

  "Uh huh," the girl agreed.

  She turned to Renard.

  "Now, Renard, you don't remember anything about who you are or who we are, only that your name is Renard. Okay?"

  "All right," he agreed.

  "You are Renard. You are five years old and you are my son. I am your mommy, and you love your mommy and always do what she tells you. Understand?"