"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.
Melody 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....
There was a film of dust on the fur of his feet. $fe reacted with horror. She had to clean away that dust instantly! It profaned the Drone! She got up and started toward him.
"Desist," the Drone said immediately. Even the formidable timbre of his voice sent a shiver through the host's nervous system. This was $fe's god!
$fe would have been frozen in her tracks by that directive, but Melody was no slave, and her response to the warning was not swift enough. Her forward arm touched a shimmering curtain that crossed the room between them —and the searing pain caused her to fall back, exclaiming in agony.
The surface of her arm was turning red. She had been burned by a sheet laser; there would be blisters and sloughing of skin.
She paused to consider the situation, while the savage pain subsided slowly. The Captain had discovered the hostages prematurely, and they had made him prisoner by using the discipline box on him. This was a pain-generating unit that could be set to cause steady pain on a scale of one through ten, or to cause variable pain as the prisoner tried to resist it. The box picked up the myriad indicators of the functioning body and adjusted its output accordingly. It was a most sophisticated device; no entity could resist it. The Drone could not even think consciously of escaping.
The Drone-Captain was in a sheet-laser cell, so that he could not even accidentally escape the box. Its effect faded rapidly with distance, so it had to be kept close to the subject It was not tuned to Melody's host, so she could have approached and turned it off, but a double laser barrier curtain separated her from it.
She paced around her scintillating cell. The Drone surely knew how to deactivate the box, but even if she were free, he could not tell her, because that would be an escape-thought He could warn her against danger to herself, because that did not relate to his escape, but that was all.
So they were helpless. Melody's host simply did not know enough to get around the barriers, and the Drone could not tell her. What a trap!
"Regret," the Drone said.
There was no need to clarify his meaning. Melody's host-system thrilled to her Master's expression of concern. She had taken injury on his behalf, and he had taken note. Instead of chastising her for her negligence, he had issued a word of consolation. She would gladly have taken a thousand similar injuries, for similar reward.
But Melody was not $fe. Perhaps if she could communicate this to the Drone....
"Canopian," she said clearly.
The reflections from his facets shifted as the Drone looked her way. It was not necessary for him to turn his head at all, since several facets covered her regardless of the way he was facing, so this was a signal of special attention. A Slave did not address her Master in this, manner!
"Please approach the curtain," Melody continued.
Again the shifting of reflections, his only indication of surprise. Now he was definitely aware of a change in his Slave. The Drone walked slowly to the barrier, stopping just beyond it.
Melody moved up to the limit on her side. They could not touch each other, but they could approach to within the thickness of a molecule, if they were careful. Melody put one hand forward with extreme care.
The Drone did likewise with a forward appendage. As their extremities came close together, the two auras began to interact. The laser curtain had no effect on an aura, of course. The Kirlian intensity of the Canopian was extremely strong—about 140—which explained why he had not been taken hostage. By showing him her own aura, Melody had documented her status; the aura capable of making her hostage did not exist.
After a moment, the Drone withdrew. Melody knew he had felt her aura, and so he was now aware that she was a transferee. The fact that he did not speak suggested that he knew their speech was being recorded.
But he might think she was an Andromedan spy! No, for if the Andromedans had an aura like hers available, they would not have wasted it on a mere Slave; they would have taken over the Drone himself, instead of imprisoning him. So his logic should tell him that she was not one of the enemy.
The Drone now knew her nature, and knew what to tell her to do—but still could not show or tell her directly. So maybe she had gained nothing—but she felt she had made progress. She returned to the table and sat down. Her arm was still hurting from the burn, and she hated to waste valuable time, but all she could do now was wait and try to figure out the necessary course of action.
After a time, a Canopian Master entered the room. He (she/it) was a Solarian-sapient-sized black insectoid, perhaps half the mass of the Drone and not nearly as handsome. A hostage, obviously.
"So your little Slave has revived," the hostage remarked callously. "Good. We can use her. Slave, come out." It touched a control on a portable instrument, causing one curtain to fade out.
Melody hesitated, and it was well she did, for she discovered that $fe would not have obeyed the hostage's directive. She could have given herself away that readily! She remained where she was.
"Drone, tell her to obey me," the hostage snapped. The snapping was literal: its mandibles clicked.
"Do," the Drone said.
Now Melody stood and crossed the room to stand before the hostage. She was tempted to attack it, but still didn't know enough to free the Drone, so attack was pointless. Better to wait for a better opportunity, unless the hostage discovered her powerful aura and forced the issue.
"Go to the Master's galley and fetch food," the hostage said melodiously. Canopians had excellent linguistic ability, and always spoke well. "Feed the Drone."
Melody drew on her host's information and made her way down the corridor to the galley. This was a routine chore; she not only cleaned
her Master, she fed him and carried away his wastes. With no personal distractions he was able to devote his full attention to his position as captain. Even from the uncomprehended fragments in the uneducated Slave mind, Melody perceived the massive capacity of the Drone. He had, by any definition, a first-rate intellectual competency.
Slaves operated the galley. "Hey, $fe," the server said. She recognized him as &0slash;to of A[th]. "What's going on up front? The Masters have been acting strange."
"This ship has been taken over by Galaxy Andromeda, &0slash;to," Melody said.
He laughed, not equipped to believe the truth. "Here's your order; go throw burl at Andromeda."
Melody carried the canister, pondering. Burl—a plant cultivated on several worlds of Sphere Canopus. The berries were solid, and could be thrown. They were also squeezed for their juice, which was made into food for the Masters. To throw burl, thus, would be an insulting waste. It was, of course, safe to insult Andromeda, though it was apparent to Melody (if not to $fe) that the identity stood in lieu of a more proximate if unnameable enemy. The humanoids of the / intonation obeyed, but did not necessarily like, their insectoid Masters.
Interesting double-culture, this. Melody had reviewed Sphere Canopus as part of segment geography, way back in her bud stage, and of course there were references to it in the Cluster Tarot. Canopus was represented by the Suit of Wands (called Scepters by Canopians) and was one of the first and stoutest allies of Sphere Sol. The suit of Energy stood for many things, as did all the suits; any suggestion that there was any affinity between Canopus and Andromeda would have been fiercely denied by both parties. Flint of Outworld had visited Sphere Canopus in the host of a Slave. But there were many spheres in the segment, and many segments in the galaxy, and many galaxies in the cluster, and it simply was not possible to know or remember the details of all the species in them all. In addition, Melody's personal aversion to sapient slavery had put a certain intellectual distance between her and this one. Now she wished she had choked off her own prejudice enough to give her a sufficient understanding of this culture. She did not have to like what she was finding here, but Canopus was a vital ally, and $fe's devotion to her Master was genuine. In fact, it was so thorough it had to indicate that there were some redeeming features in the culture.
Chaining the Lady Page 19
