Xanth 30 - Stork Naked

by Piers Anthony

  "Actually I was looking for three lost part-demon children. But I wouldn't mind meeting others of my kind."

  "I know where they are, through the fog. Catch my tail and follow me." She returned to small winged centaur form and switched her tail toward him.

  Was this wise? Yet winged centaurs might be willing to help him search for the children, or know where they might be. It seemed a fair thing to risk.

  He caught the tip of her tail. She spread her wings and leaped into the air. He followed. She plunged into the bank of fog, and he followed. In a quarter of a moment he was lost in the thickness of it, having no idea where he was with respect to land or sea. He had to trust Chaska's direction and motive.

  They popped back into clear air. There below was an open stall such as flying centaurs used. "I believe they are home now," Chaska said. "Have a good visit." She twitched her tail from his grasp and disappeared into the fog.

  "Thank you," he called after her.

  He glided down to the stall. As he landed, two winged centaurs emerged, one male, the other female. "Hello," he said. "I am Che Centaur. I am looking for three lost children."

  The male approached to shake hands. He had flame colored wings and a fiery coat. "I am Challenge Centaur, with the talent of the production of fire."

  The female approached. Her coat was brown with lightning streaks. "I am Chellony Were-Centaur, with the talent of the production and control of lightning."

  "Pardon my ignorance," Che said. "Did you say were-centaur?"

  "Yes. I have five forms. This one, straight centaur—" her wings disappeared. "Straight human, winged human—" She assumed those forms, the human woman sprouting wings. "And winged horse." The horse appeared.

  "I am amazed," Che said. "I am from far away, where our only magic talent is flying."

  "As for the lost children—ours are not lost, as you see." Chellony glanced back into the stall, and three small winged centaurs emerged.

  "They are part-demon children," Che said.

  "Like Chaska!" one of the young centaurs exclaimed.

  Chaska reappeared. "Are you ready to play in the fog?"

  "Be back by nightfall," Chellony called as the three leaped into the air to join Chaska.

  "We will," a child called back as they disappeared into the fog.

  "We have not seen any part-demon children recently," Challenge said. "Other than Filly Buster and De Flate."

  "Those are not the names, unless they somehow got changed," Che said. "What are those children like?"

  Chellony smiled. "Filly Buster is a cute girl, but she will talk your ear off. We find ears lying on the ground where she has been."

  "The only one who can shut her up is her friend De Flate," Challenge said.

  "The children I see are named Demon Ted, DeMonica, and Woe Betide," Che said. "They lack those talents. So I think you have not seen them. Has there been anything else?"

  "Just a large lost bird," Chellony said.

  Something about the way she said it alerted Che. "Would that bird be telepathic?"

  "Indeed. And from very far away."

  "Another reality," Challenge said.

  "The Simurgh!"

  "So you know of her," Chellony said.

  "Yes. I tutor her chick, Sim."

  Both centaurs paused with surprise. "That is indeed another reality," Challenge said. "In this one, the Simurgh is male, and has no chick."

  "Many things are different," Che agreed. "I find it confusing at times."

  "I am femalishly curious," Chellony said. "You must have to know a great deal, to tutor one as smart as that chick must be. Has Sim ever asked a question you were unable to answer?"

  "Many times," Che agreed ruefully. "Then I have to research. For example, when I mentioned that the Demon Tallyho assigns talents to babies, Sim asked who assigned talents for adults who developed them later. I haven't yet learned the answer to that one."

  "I can appreciate why," Challenge said. "I would never have thought of the question, let alone the answer."

  "Maybe you should make up a name, such as the Demoness Jessica," Chellony suggested. "So as not to appear ignorant."

  Che was horrified. "I would never—"

  Both centaurs burst out laughing. They were teasing him. No centaur would pretend knowledge he lacked.

  "I believe the Simurgh has been waiting for you," Chellony said. "She has not wished to interfere in the events of this reality, so has kept to herself. She contacted us only to be certain we did not object to her presence."

  "I must talk to her," Che said.

  "If she wishes."

  Che smiled. "I understand your meaning. No one can contact the Simurgh without her agreement. But I believe she will talk with me." He sent out a thought. Simurgh—Che Centaur is in this reality with friends.

  Welcome, good centaur.

  The two other centaurs nodded together. "She knows you," Challenge said. "Go to her."

  "Thank you." Che spread his wings and took off in the direction indicated by the Simurgh's powerful mind-signal. He was no longer concerned about the fog, knowing she would not mislead him.

  He landed in a small crater. There was the Simurgh in a huge nest she had fashioned. "I am so glad to have found you," he said. "Though at the moment I was looking for the children."

  It is a trying time, she agreed. Though it has allowed me opportunity for thought.

  "You think?" he blurted before he thought. "I mean—"

  I know what you mean, good centaur, she thought, amused. As it happens I know a great deal, but there are aspects of understanding that I lack. For example, there is the question of the soldiers Magician Trent brought with him when he returned to Xanth and became king. They were Mundanes, but in time Mundanes can develop magic talents, as the magic of Xanth slowly infuses them. The question is why this was not observed.

  Che was surprised. "I never thought of that."

  You were busy with other matters, such as tutoring my chick. Now I believe I have made sense of that matter: the soldiers did develop talents, but they were so minor as to be unnoticed. Such as the ability of a man to change his eyes from one shade of blue to another, or altering the color of his nails, or the ability to speak to basilisks.

  "But the sight of a basilisk will turn a person to stone!"

  The Simurgh smiled mentally. Therefore there was never occasion to invoke that particular talent.

  "I see that you keep yourself busy regardless of your situation."

  Another mental smile. Unfortunately I never found the lazy bone.

  "What kind of bone?"

  It is the cure for the WORK Ethic curse.

  Oh. She was having a bit of fun with him. "How is it you are caught here?" He had a fair notion, but wanted to be sure.

  The fissure between realities defined its two connections, she thought. When it terminated, they were no longer defined. I could leave this reality via the Stork Works, but not be sure of returning to the one I left without that definition. There are an infinite number of very similar realities.

  "What about the one where you are missing?"

  There are an infinite number of those, also. I have a foolish preference to return to my own, rather than a similar one.

  "But if you can't be sure of the correct reality, how can we?"

  You can not, she thought. You will have to discover a way to identify the correct one.

  "But we lack expertise!"

  True. It is a challenge. We depend on you.

  A fluorescent bulb flickered over his head. "Does this have anything to do with my destiny?"

  Everything, good centaur. You are destined to change the history of Xanth. You must endeavor to change it as little as possible.

  "By locating the closest reality," he said, awed. "Lest the land I know be rendered moot."

  True.

  He moved on to the more immediate problem. "Surprise. Baby. Stork. Morgan le Fey. Children." Each word he said oriented his mind so that the Simurgh c
ould instantly pick up all that was relevant. In five instants she had it all.

  I will help you to the extent I can. The three children are not in this sector as such. But if they were transformed, there is a chance. There are three blips I am unable to fathom fully.

  "But you know everything in the universe," Che protested.

  In my reality. This is not that. The blips are very small, while my thoughts are large. We do not relate. But they do seem to be from a different reality.

  "That could be the three children," Che agreed. "How to I locate them?"

  The blips are deep inside an anthill. You must enter it and verify them personally.

  "I am too big to enter an anthill," he said with a certain brief humor.

  As it happens, another anthill owes me a favor. They have a drone

  who got touched by a forget whorl and lost his mind. You can take over that body. That should suffice. The Simurgh sent him a detailed thought, clarifying the situation. Now Che understood.

  It took a bit of practice for Che to get used to walking on six legs and communicating via antennae, but these things were natural to the host body and soon he had them down. He also learned to use the special sense the Simurgh bestowed on him: awareness of the direction and nearness of the alien presences. These might not be easy to verify; the pique ants never brought them out into the open. There was definitely a mystery there.

  The hill was near a pond that was the size of a sea in ant terms: the agreeably pungent and pleasant Piquant Sea. It was somewhat higher than the water level, so was unlikely ever to flood. In fact the ants probably had to delve deep to reach the water level, if they wanted to be sure of plenty to drink. Overall, it seemed like a very nice site, but somewhat exposed; didn't ant-eating creatures regard it as an easy meal? Evidently not.

  He spied some tasty-looking berries. Each one was larger than he was, in this form, but he was hungry. He went to puncture one to get some of its juice.

  Do not, good centaur, the Simurgh's thought came. That is the notorious diary/diarrhea berry, unique I suspect to this reality. If a person eats one, he spews out his secrets in the manner of a diary. If he eats two, he has severe digestive difficulty. At your present size, one sip could inflict both curses on you together.

  Che decided he wasn't that hungry after all. He moved on, in a new direction.

  You are losing your way, the Simurgh's warning came.

  How had he done that? Che turned about and resumed the path toward the anthill.

  He was distracted by a bug traveling the other way. The bug had feelers, so Che touched them. "Who are you?" he asked.

  "I am a beetle from Mundania," the bug replied. "I thought coming here would solve my problem, but it only modified it."

  "What is your problem?"

  "I am manic/depressive. I cycle through episodes of joy and misery. I would gladly dispense with the one in order to avoid the other. But here in Xanth I cycle through episodes of magic and repression."

  "Can you clarify?" Che asked, interested.

  "I am entering my magic phase now. But it manifests erratically." The bug looked at a nearby blade of grass. It burst into flame. "Next time it may become a drop of water," the bug said. "I wish I could control my effect."

  "I agree: you have exchanged one curse for another," Che said sympathetically.

  "I will move on now, before some effect harms you."

  "Thank you."

  Resume your mission, the Simurgh thought firmly.

  He had done it again. This time he focused determinedly and completed his trek to the anthill.

  He approached the main entrance to the hill. A guard challenged him immediately, recognizing him as a foreign ant. The communication was electronic, but his mind interpreted it as verbal dialogue.

  "Halt, intruder drone! You are not from this hill. I can tell by your smell."

  "I am Ambassador Che of Pique Ant Hill 53. Here is my credit." He sent the authorizing signal.

  "We don't have relations with Hill 53."

  "You do now. You must accept a proffered Pique Ant ambassador, as you are pique ants too. By antly protocol you are obliged to grant me the hospitality of the hill for a day and night."

  "This is highly irregular."

  "Nevertheless legitimate. I'll take your best guest room, with room service and an early audience with the queen."

  "This is preposterous. No one gets treatment like that."

  Che affected lordly sarcasm. "Oh, are you an authority on protocol?"

  The guard had to give way, not being equipped to respond to higher intellectual challenges. "I'll check with my supervisor."

  "Do that, officer."

  The guard checked, and the supervisor reluctantly yielded to the requirement. It was indeed protocol, though seldom implemented. Most anthills, pique and otherwise, simply minded their own business. Che soon found himself in a comfortable chamber just off the main drag, with a docile worker ant serving as servant and intermediary. He was, after all, a drone: one of the few full males in the ant kingdom. Ordinary workers were stunted females, constrained to serve and feed their betters. This worker was Anona Ant, completely unassuming and undistinguished.

  Che touched her antennae with his own. Her whole meek, subservient personality came through with that touch. "I hunger," he informed her.

  She waited. After most of a moment he caught on: she was literal minded. He had informed her of his state, but had not told her what to do about it. "Bring me an appropriate meal."

  She departed immediately. He knew that the chef-ant would know what was appropriate and provide her with it.

  Soon she returned with a glob of royal jelly. Che had never encountered that before, but his ant host body reacted: this was princely fare.

  He took it and started eating. Anona retreated to a crevice area and waited.

  He signaled her with a glance, and she approached for an antenna touch. "Are you hungry?" he inquired.

  "Yes, lord."

  "Would you like to have some of this."

  She was thrown into a crisis of indecision. Her mandibles quivered. "I don't know."

  He caught on. She was not one to have likes or dislikes; her station was beneath preferences. "Common ants are not supposed to eat royal jelly?"

  "Yes."

  "But you are also supposed to do what I tell you."

  "Yes."

  "I want you well and vigorous, to better help me in my mission here. Take a small part of this glob. A globule."

  That direct instruction resolved her doubt. Anona took a globule and delicately ate it, while he consumed the rest.

  The effect was swift and remarkable. Che felt invigorated and princely, while Anona's appearance shifted in subtle but effective ways. She was becoming more female. She was a neuter ant, a repressed female. It was diet that did it: one fed on royal jelly became a queen; those denied it remained physically like juveniles. He had committed a breach of antly protocol by having her eat it.

  Well, too late to do anything about it. He wouldn't do it again. Meanwhile, it could get her in serious trouble. He knew that ant queens normally beheaded competition. "Do not reveal that I gave you royal jelly," he cautioned her.

  "I will not tell," she agreed obediently.

  He knew where he needed to go, but was not sure he would be given free access. So he approached the matter cautiously. "I wish to tour the hill."

  Anona waited.

  Oh. "Take me on a tour of the hill."

  She took him through the hive: the workers' quarters, the guards' barracks, the fungus farm, the mess hall, the deep water well region, the high ridge where sharp-eyed ants watched for possible approaching threats, and past but not into the sacrosanct queen's apartment. And not to the one section he needed to visit: where the three alien visitors resided. His awareness informed him where it was, but she never went there.

  Back in his chamber, he cautiously broached the matter. "You did not show me everything, Anona."

 
; Her return impulse was perplexed. "I showed you all I know, lord."

  "There is another region. Perhaps it is secret."

  She struggled with the notion of secrecy, something normally foreign to her open nature. Then she made a connection. "You gave me royal jelly. I must not tell. That is a secret."

  "Yes. But that is not the secret I meant."

  She struggled further, and managed to make another connection. "I am now becoming female. You are male. You want me to—" She broke off, not conversant with the process. The ants did not need any Adult Conspiracy to mask the process of reproduction; workers simply lacked the capacity. But now, like a child on the verge of adult interest, she was struggling with it.

  "No, no," he said quickly. "That's not it."

  "You are rejecting me," she said, her antennae wilting.

  Now she was becoming emotional, like a non-centaur woman. He was coming to appreciate why royal jelly was limited to royal ants. "No, not at all! I just—" But how could he explain?

  "I am not adequate," she wailed electronically. He felt her utter devastation. She had no experience with the female state, so tended to overreact.

  "You are fine, just the way you are," he said quickly, and felt her mood swing positive. "I just did not have this in mind when I came here."

  "I'm sure I can please you, if you show me how," she said eagerly.

  Che had three problems with this. First, he did not want to take unfair advantage of a truly innocent ant girl. Second, he did not want to further complicate his emotional life, which already had an illicit passion for Surprise Golem. Third, he had no idea how ants signaled the stork, if that was what they did. He might figure it out in time by trial and error, but that was bound to be awkward.

  Then he had an idea he hoped was unworthy of him. He could ask her to take him to a truly private place. She might not know about the alien presences, but think that the place they were kept was deserted. Thus she might after all lead him to where he needed to go.

  However, being an ethical centaur, he rejected that unworthy ploy. "This is not the place or the time," he said. "I must first accomplish my mission."

  "Another place, another time," she agreed, pathetically ardent. "What is your mission?" She now had more initiative, too, no longer waiting for direct commands.