by Pam Uphoff
"I am not a god. Nothing controls me, I go where and when I wish."
"Control you, no. You’ll just have a hunger to go places and see new things. You already feel it, don’t you? It will get stronger."
He scowled. "Nothing controls me." But his eyes shifted, and his rudimentary shields stiffened a bit.
"Then practice those basics hard."
She left him standing absolutely still, attention inward, and his glow dropping steadily. Independent mage indeed. Abandoned, more like, to have had what looked like no training whatsoever. He’d picked up visualization quickly enough. What he needed was a list of the basic charms to memorize, then training in how to apply power to them, how to combine them, then how to gather more power . . . Mother would kill me if she caught me training a male in magic usage. She smiled wryly. Add it to the list of things for which I’ll some day find myself expelled from the pyramid.
Chapter Four
April, 2236
New Tokyo, Asia
River finished the report, and charmed it with the God’s name. Folded it carefully, then dug down to the bottom of her wardrobe, where the carelessly discarded pouch lay among her shoes. She slid the report into the pouch and sealed it. Some sort of dimensional shortcut, the god had said, the day he gave it to her. The twin of the pouch was in his office, along with several dozen others, one each for his far flung web of spies. No doubt all the gods had them—spies and pouches.
And what am I going to do about that one? Simon. Who is he spying for? River blew out a long breath and glanced out the window. Almost time for lessons. Do I really want to advance? What man do I use to bump my skills up a level? Or two levels, if I get pregnant, as well as lose my virginity. She blushed a bit, remembering a good looking professor of physics. From Cairo, he said. I wonder how long he'll be in town.
She kicked out of her shoes and stripped down to bare nothing. "Bloody theatre, no reason we have to wear these damned robes, and nothing under them other than to make us feel naughty or something."
"I heard that!" Amused’s voice filtered through the door.
Flattered’s giggle followed. "I thought it was so we’d feel insecure and unready, so we don’t jump the gun and grab the nearest man without worrying about his well being afterwards?"
River opened the door as she finished tying the belt. "I think someone was trying to set up a mystique about witches and gave up when the sexy robes turned out to look like ordinary bathrobes."
"You can’t make up rituals and the proper trappings, River. And don’t go quoting something about the Exile, either!"
"It’s only been a hundred and eighteen years since the Exile. So there aren’t any rituals older than that." River scowled at the mirror. Her hair was an unremarkable lightish brown, shoulder length, her eyes blue. "They might at least let us put our hair up. It keeps getting in my mouth."
"That’s because you cut it, what, two years ago? Honestly River, what were you thinking?"
"That if I expected to get out of Athens alive, I was going to have to look like a boy. I thought I was quite dashing with the mustache." She led the way outside, turning for the amphitheater of the Crescent Moon.
Flattered snorted. "I can’t imagine why you went there in the first place."
"Because Edmund Vice had a reputation for throwing magic all over the place. I figured I could pick up some readings and analyze them. I didn’t realize how often the God of Vice indulged his baser desires."
Amused widened her eyes, trying to look innocent. "But River, think about how you could have advanced, two years early, and with a God!"
"Eww!" River hunted around for a way to distract them. "Now if Pax had been interested . . ."
Two matching sighs.
"Oh, those golden eyes!"
"His voice! It’s just mesmerizing."
"Well, I see two of you are ready to advance." Firefly eyed River and shook her head in resignation. "Come in girls, you need to understand the dangers, and practice as much as is possible beforehand."
The so-called amphitheater was actually a open patch in a grove of trees. Stones had been set in the ground in a hit-or-miss pattern that kept it drained and usable most of the year.
"Amused, tell me about the tiers of knowledge."
"The tier of the New Moon is for the daughters of witches. They learn the usual academics and receive additional instruction and training to prepare them for the advent of their power. Most girls are New Moons until their fifteenth or sixteenth year. The Crescent Moons are girls who have evinced their power. They are trained and drilled until they are deemed ready to advance, generally between the ages of twenty-five and thirty. The witches of the Bright Quarter Moon tier have lost their virginity and can channel the power. After advancing they learn skills that require channeling. Full Moon witches have given birth, so they can learn to heal. Most witches stay on this tier until they are forty-five. As witches approach the Change, they become capable of stronger magic and move to the tier of the Dark Quarter until they are around sixty. The Dark Moon tier is where witches learn the most powerful spells, including things once thought only the province of the Gods."
"Right out of the text book. Very good. I will just add that the ages are approximate, and depend on many factors, such as an early loss of virginity, infertility, and early menopause. What else, River?"
"Basic strength, and the mix of magic genes each individual possesses. And the mix of normal genes, that influence the way the magic genes work."
"Explain about basic strength, Flattered."
"There is a gene that enables the collection of power. It is an artificially engineered version of a naturally occurring gene that energizes a person in a crowd or through music. Depending on which of numerous alleles of the natural gene a witch has can change the amount of power than she can collect, and the velocity with which it can be collected and used. The artificial gene was added to the X chromosome, so a witch can have one or two copies of it. But because it is strongly dominant, having two is only a slight boost to power collecting abilities."
"Good, River, the mix of genes?"
"There are one hundred and five artificial genes besides the Power collection gene. We can have one or two copies of them, on the paired chromosomes. So a maximum of two hundred and ten special genes. Some of the genes are dominant, some are recessive, some share dominance or influence other genes. And for about half of them there are multiple alleles. So while the power gene influences the strength of spells, these other genes determine what sorts of spells any given witch can actually do, and which of those they can do best."
"Close enough. Amused, tell me about the other power collection genes."
"Our power collection gene is located on the X chromosome, and is usually called the witch gene. It catches a bit of the power of gravity. The wizard gene is an engineered gene, much like the witch gene, but unable to collect as much power. It operates on light, over part of the electromagnetic spectrum. The Mage gene is again similar, but it is located on the Y chromosome. It is very powerful, collecting from the lower electromagnetic spectrum though heat and vibration and kinetic energy."
"Yes, although we've had information about what is being called a Gollian wizard, apparently fairly strong. River, the gender differences?"
"The witch gene is linked to an artificial gene that primes the immune system to attack Y bearing sperm. That is why witches mostly have female children. Like anything, it can be got around. The mage gene, being on the Y chromosome is inherited father to son. The only instances of it occurring in female children involve irregularities, XXY babies with hormonal changes so the baby is physically female. The Goddesses are like that. The wizard gene is weak in males, but when doubly inherited by a female the resulting magic can be strong." River hesitated. "This isn’t according to the text, but I’ve heard . . ."
"Please restrain yourself from unproven gossip, River."
River opened her mouth, then shut it.
Her mother sighe
d. "Oh, go ahead. You’ll tell the girls outside of class any way. I might as well hear it."
"I understand that girls with one witch and one wizard gene are strongly magical, and often wind up as these little gods."
Her mother grimaced. "That’s actually probably true, and why we have amended our rules, so we don’t produce any more of them. Pay attention. Witches should not cross with wizards. Nor do we use any of the various methods of circumventing the female selection gene, especially if we mate with mages.
"You’ve all seen the pathetic results of these crosses. There really is such a thing as too much magic. While mages and wizards have psychic glow, and are very attractive, I recommend against intercourse with them during your fertile periods."
Flattered was sitting up straight and bright-eyed. "What about seducing gods?"
"The Old Gods and the little gods have both a witch gene and a mage gene. So long as you do not use a spell for a male child there is no problem. Of course, you’d best be careful they don’t use one on you. Not all of them are considerate of your desires." Firefly nodded. "Good. You have the basics. Now, River tell me what danger you face."
"When a witch loses her virginity, there’s a leap of psychic energy which can cause her partner’s blood pressure to spike. Then as she begins channeling, if she doesn’t control the energy flow quickly enough, she can drain the man, and then herself, of personal energy, umm, glycogen, causing anything from a slight weakness to severe debilitation or death."
"Amused, how will you avoid this problem?"
"I will pick someone with moderate glow, because their nervous system can handle the zap with less effect on their blood pressure. Then I will choke down the energy flow and shut it off before either of us is drained."
"Exactly. Now we will start with meditation, and then we will practice shunting power. This is not too different from channeling. By learning to control the rate and amount of shunting, you will come as close to practicing control of channeling as we are capable of. Any questions?"
River nodded. "I can already do some healing."
Firefly snorted. "You can suppress pain for a short while, and press wounds together, sometimes long enough for the cause to resolve itself. After you give birth you will be able to detect the cause of the pain and cure it, and micro manipulate wounds, rebuilding the injured tissues. The difference is quite striking. As you shall see, hopefully within a year."
They were already sitting cross legged, and dropped into a light mediation state easily. Or should have been able to. Amused and Flattered were both uneven and spiking with excitement.
Firefly sighed. "You will not advance for at least a month, so settle down."
River settled in, easily enough, but now she had things to meditate about. Simon.
I’d hate to hurt him. Quite apart from the criminal penalties, I rather like the man. Pity, he's good looking and obviously intelligent. Not the worst fellow to pick as a father for my witch daughter. But that little bit of glow he has might mean he's a wizard. Hands off.
But if I did it off-cycle, so I didn’t get pregnant . . .
Chapter Five
May, 2236
New Tokyo, Asia
"In theory, every winter we should be sweeping up the small debris, and altering the orbits of the larger chunks. Eventually we’ll have cleared the orbit of all the comets." Simon had a glass of wine in one hand, a tiny plate with two hors d’oeuvres in the other, leaving him with the usual party dilemma of how to eat the goodies.
The God of Art sniffed dismissively. "And we should waste our time helping the astronomers, why? We couldn’t do anything about it if our own doom was bearing down on us."
The other god raised his eyebrows. Art was a good looking man. Peace was drawing the eyes of every woman in the room, irrespective of age or marital status.
"We could raise shields, for a brief period. Or perhaps those dimensional bubbles would be useful. But all things considered, that’s not the route to peace I’d like to see."
Simon raised an eyebrow. "Peaceful coexistence of city-states seems to be working for the most part. Although I really wish Kroll or whatever his name is, would have moved further away from everyone else."
Art snickered. "Kelso. Only a university professor would say something so foolish to the God of Peace. What do you say we turn him into a toad for the evening, Pax?"
Simon stiffened, but Pax gave him a look of utter disinterest. "Why bother?" He turned away, nodding to a tall boy. "Richie, I didn’t know you were in town."
Richie? The God of Eternal Youth?
"Just got here a couple of days ago." He looked around the room. "Edmund’s here, but not Barry? Do you suppose he finally killed his brother?" His eyes tracked toward a slinky platinum blonde and he left without so much as a wave.
"Never did have any manners." Art curled a lip and turn to bow to an exquisite little woman. Colorful silks shown against her deep tan complexion. "Mercy, so good to have you back for the summer."
Simon stayed where he was, trying to be unobtrusive and overlooked. Five gods here tonight. At least. This was the first time he’d seen any of this batch up close, and an opportunity to listen in as they spoke . . . Richie was getting excessively friendly with his pale blonde, but she seemed to be encouraging it. Simon choked faintly. The three young women watching the scene were Sally, or rather River, and her two fellow witches, Flattered and Amused. And River looked a whole lot like Richie. He hauled his attention back to the nearer group with an effort.
"The main problem with Zapolo, is that he thinks he’ll be in control. His plan to put everyone, worldwide, under one government is excellent. We should support him, and once he’s got everything together, take over." One corner Peace’s mouth turned up. "Oh, I know you don’t like the idea, Art, but think long term. You’re much too limited."
Simon boggled a bit. Quietly. Zapolo was a nut case in Scandia, trying to organize a world government while campaigning to be elected President of the World, himself. Kelso paled in comparison. He had simply founded a town and crowned himself king of it.
"Don’t like it! That’s understating the case by several orders of magnitude." Art scowled. First at Peace, then across the room.
Mayor Brigham was the center of a swirl of people. He looked belligerent, and not at all in a party mood.
"I’d like to hear from him about it, though. Man’s got a nasty tendency to call the city his. Bet he'd like the idea of a President of the World."
Simon’s attention drifted again. A big red haired man with two young men, obviously his sons, in tow, had approached Richie.
The three redheads were notable for their leering attention to the young witches. Richie stiffened. One arm around the platinum blonde, he turned her away from the group.
The older redhead stepped up close to River, and she retreated. His laugh boomed out. The younger men and the other two witches seemed to be finding each other interesting.
River kept retreating, and the older man stalked after her.
The tiny Mercy looked over her shoulder. "About time you showed up, Edmund. We need an update on your side of the world." She walked over to him, the other gods trailing along. Simon found himself standing alone, with no reason to follow.
River retreated right through the group of gods and kept going. She did a double take when she spotted him, and veered his direction.
He looked at her, his heart sinking. "That was a fast retreat. Know him, do you?"
"The God of Vice? I regret to say I know him well enough to run at first sight. And keep going. Excuse me." She turned and he caught her elbow.
"And the other one, that was Richie, the God of Eternal Youth, eh? Perhaps I should ask you how old you are."
"Eww. No. I am not on those sorts of terms with him."
"That blonde is."
"That’s not blonde, it’s gray. White. That is my mother." She pulled her elbow from his grasp and slid off behind a crowd of people.
Her moth
er. And no doubt Richie is her father.
He felt a faint pang as he realized the young witch was solidly in the enemy camp. Girl’s lucky she hasn’t been pushed into being a little god, she must have double witch power genes and at least one complete set of the rest of the magic genes. No wonder she’s so damned attractive. And I need to leave her completely alone.
He closed his eyes in pain. Or use her. She might be a valuable information source.
It was one thing to realize that you’d be using people in the course of your espionage career, and quite another to use a woman you were pulled to. Simon braced his shoulders and looked around for more interesting people. I’d better get to work, I’ve got another unpleasant duty later tonight.
***
Amused and Flattered seemed quite taken by the brothers. Her mother’s admonitions swirled around her head. Witches could mate with mages. Which is what these two would be. Probably nothing on their X chromosomes, since they hadn’t been pulled into little god roles. But they'd have at least one complete set of magic genes from their father. So long as they didn't slip her triad some sex selection potions, they were a pretty good choice.
She shrugged and slipped down the stairs to check the second floor. And here was the supposedly virtuous brother, holding court with some other gentlemen. River stayed on the far side of the room, edging toward the stairs that continued down on the far side of the room. A trio of men mounted those stairs with haste and hustled across the room. The man who strolled up after them had hair so pale it was nearly white, and eyes so blue they looked artificial. She didn’t look around at the tinkle of broken glass. That was pretty much inevitable around the God of Just Deserts. Mr. Instant Karma, himself. He nodded politely in the general direction of Virtue and sauntered across to the next stairs. At least he’d left his dogs at home. Probably. River eyed the stairs down. A trip to the buffet was in order. She loaded a plate with meatballs, dribbled on a bit of sauce in case she wound up eating them herself, and descended the stairs.
