Jack Chalker - Empires of Flux & Anchor

Somehow, in her memories of earlier times in Anchor, she seemed to believe that she always found women attractive, but had fought and suppressed the tendency, perhaps overcompensating for fear of what family and friends might think. “I don’t care what anybody thinks anymore, though. I love you, and I’d tell all of World.”

Together they went back into Anchor, where they caused as much commotion and excitement as Suzl had, perhaps more. The obvious romantic bond between the tall, lovely young woman and the short, chubby Suzl put many people off now that both were “normal,” although they hadn’t even thought about it in Flux with all the spells. Several things emerged, though, that were certainly different from the Spirit known of old. She deferred almost entirely to Suzl, who was clearly the dominant personality in the relationship, and she seemed rather shy and very passive. She did, however, seem to clearly enjoy being part of human culture once again, to be able to talk and be understood, and, most of all, to understand and use common objects. She seemed deathly afraid that this period of renewed normalcy would abruptly end.

She wanted to see her baby, and they brought the child through to her in the temple. With the child, however, came Sister Kasdi, who wasn’t quite sure how to react to all this. On the one hand, she wanted desperately to talk, for the first time in their lives, as mother and daughter. On the other, the relationship between Spirit and Suzl made her feel almost ill. When Spirit and Kasdi finally faced each other, there seemed nothing really to say. Kasdi just stood there for a while, staring at her.

Matson entered, looked at Spirit, and grinned. “Welcome back to the almost-living,” he said good-naturedly. “I’m your dad.”

That took a lot of explaining as well, with Suzl acting as intermediary as best she could. No family reunion on World had ever had such confusion and hostility mixed together. Matson, sensing this the most, got down to business. “Suzl has explained to you what’s going on?”

Spirit nodded. “I think so. The same evil that got me now has all of Anchor Logh.”

He nodded. “I know we’re asking a lot, but we need you. The odds are it’ll be very dangerous, and the odds are against us ever really doing what needs to be done, but we have to try. No matter what you think of me or your mother, it’s got to be tried.”

Spirit looked down at little Jeffron, sound asleep in her lap. “I understand. I have to be honest, too. I want to stay here and look after our son. I don’t want to go, and I hate the idea of all the death and destruction, but of course I’ll go with you. Suzl tells me that if I leave Anchor, I’ll go back to being like I was—probably for good. I can’t raise him in a fortress. And out there are all the other people I really care about, all at the mercy of that madman. I have no choice. I can walk back out and become what I was, or I can go with you and try and end it all. Of course we’ll go.”

They found shirts, pants, and shoes for the two women, but while the clothing was all right, if itchy and somewhat abrasive, the shoes proved impossible. Both had been barefoot too long, and it was decided that they didn’t have the time to get used to shoes again. Nurses and provisions, should they not return, for little Jeffron were found or fixed, and Suzl, Spirit, and even Kasdi had their hair cut very short so it would not get in the way. Spirit refused all weapons, but did take on a pack as large as the one Matson was going to wear. Matson, too, clipped on his old stringer’s bullwhip and sawed-off shotgun to his belt, while Kasdi and Suzl, whose builds were unsuited for packs, still managed two ammunition belts, strapped X-shaped across their chests, and small, effective semiautomatic rifles. They managed to find Kasdi a black stringer-like uniform to replace her tattered robe, and her spell, which compensated for necessity in the interest of others, accepted it.

Matson looked her over. “You know, if you’d put on a little weight and exercised a little, you’d look almost like you did eighteen years ago,” he noted.

She smiled, thrilled at the compliment, although she knew she looked old and tired. Matson didn’t know, and could never know, the sheer torture she had been undergoing the past month. She was as insanely, passionately in love with him now as she had ever been, and she wanted him desperately. Just to be near him was agony, all the more so because she knew that he would give her at least physical release if she asked him—but she couldn’t ask him, nor accept his offer if he were to make one. She had always had an extremely low voice for a woman and somewhat mannish features and mannerisms, so much so that those who knew her in the old days would not have been surprised if she had taken up with a Suzl, but those were surface items only. She was very much a heterosexual woman in love with a strong, handsome man, and yet her mannishness intensified and her voice, if anything, seemed even deeper, with all traces of femininity in her vanishing as things had gone on.

It was the binding spell, of course, forcing her to do and be just the opposite of what she so desperately wanted to do and be. The trouble was, while she could turn off Matson, she could hardly turn off herself.

Finally, they were ready, and with very little time to spare. The forces outside would be stationed in two equal groups outside the shield. Normally, a shield was supported from a single center point which represented the wizard. This shield, however, was enormous, and supported at least partially by machines, and so there were a number of power points identifiable from outside. Assuming these had to be machine locations, they picked two about fifty kilometers apart along the northern border. This would allow them the luxury of a choice of targets, while still keeping the empire’s forces close enough to support one another and shift positions as necessary. Suzl and Matson knew the city and countryside the least—it had been a long time since they’d been in Anchor Logh, and things had changed, even there—but Suzl was a tough veteran of Flux, and Matson was an expert at military affairs. It was agreed that it would be Matson’s game until they reached the Flux. Wizards tended to forget what it was like not to have or depend on the magic.

“You’ve been briefed on what it’s likely to be like out there?” Matson asked Spirit.

She nodded. “I have met our Mr. Coydt before. I’m sure I can’t imagine the surprises his mind has come up with.”

Matson returned the nod. “What’s he like these days? He was always the real nervy man’s man, anything for a thrill, the riskier the better. And he always got away with it.”

“Still that way the last I saw him,” she replied. “I just can’t imagine how someone so handsome and so brilliant can become so evil.”

“Word always was that something happened back in his childhood. Something that warped him sexually, although he has quite a reputation with some of the ladies and he’s certainly no man-lover. He’s always been a cold-blooded killer and a sadistic wizard, but he has the odd reputation, too, for always keeping his word. If he promises something, he’ll always deliver, whether good or bad. We never knew how he got into some of the Anchors, but he always liked Anchors better than Flux. Flux was too easy for him. No thrill, no risk. He liked to gamble on cards and was pretty good in the joints, but he was as good a loser as he was a winner. I doubt if anybody’s ever figured Coydt out, but if anybody ever did, he’d probably kill ’em.” He looked at his chronograph. “Whoops! Ready, everybody! One minute!”

Kasdi had been standing there, going slowly mad. It wasn’t from what they were going to attempt so much as it was her emotions, and not just for Matson. For the first time she was with her daughter as herself, with no blinders and no spells and no other funny stuff, and she hadn’t been able to find any kind of break or opening at all. She felt as sealed off from Spirit as she did from Matson.