Page 24 of Isis Orb


  “Not if she gets Hapless to choose her. I don’t control him.”

  Hapless kept his mouth shut. Feline might not control him, technically, but she had an awful lot of influence on him. Yet he still wore Carmen’s opal. She still wickedly tempted him.

  Faro took hold. “Feline, you got your Totem. We all have, except me; I’m the last. We need my Totem to get out of the Void and complete our Quest. I realize that you’re not eager to animate Carmen, whose interest is in fascinating Hapless, but if she can help, we need her. If we reject help that just might maybe could enable the Quest to succeed, then we are all lost.”

  “But what if she takes Hapless?” Feline wailed.

  “It seems you have a theoretical choice: to risk losing Hapless while enabling completion of the Quest, or to claim Hapless at risk of losing the Quest. That’s the hard equation. You need to make your choice.”

  Hapless or the Quest. That was stark.

  The others gazed at her. They all knew that they were all lost if they didn’t get out of the Void. Including Feline herself. Including Hapless. There was nothing to be won by giving up the Quest.

  “Oh, hairballs!” Feline swore, in tears of frustration.

  Then Carmen appeared, nude except for glasses, falling as her tail flailed. Hapless quickly caught her, and found himself clasping her face to face, her phenomenal upper section plastered to him. He was more aware of it with every breath she took. Her snakes curled around her head and his head, drawing his face in toward hers; they seemed friendly now, and not at all scary. “We’ve got to stop meeting this way,” she said, quickly kissing him.

  Feline’s fear was justified. About the only thing that prevented Carmen from seducing him this instant was that she was in tails and had no place. Not without legs.

  “She’s going to have to make legs,” Faro said. “Otherwise she can’t function here.”

  “Do it,” Feline said grimly.

  “That will take time,” Carmen said.

  They set her up on another rock, and slowly her tail started changing. They harvested clothing from a clothes horse grazing beside the path; the thing was made entirely of clothing, but looked like a horse with clothing on. Carmen donned a blouse and kerchief, both of which filled out impressively. Her tail was now covered by a skirt, except for the tips of her flukes. This partial concealment had the effect of making her look even more fetchingly human, with perhaps a bouffant hairstyle and a super-uplift bra. The males of the party still found her quite interesting.

  “How can you help?” Feline asked grimly.

  “I am a creature of a Region,” Carmen said. “I know about the Regions. The Void is special in significant ways.”

  “Tell us something we don’t already know,” Feline said, her grimness unabated.

  “The Void is a kind of black hole, with its event horizon. The question is what happens to the things that are drawn into its singularity. The physical objects are in a kind of stasis, but what about information? As a practical matter, that may be lost.”

  “This makes sense,” Zed agreed. “It is a fate we prefer to avoid. But what is the relevance?”

  “The Void Horn must have had a past, before it was captured by the Void and put to work here. But we may never know what that past was. Even the Horn probably does not remember.”

  “Granted,” Zed said. “But our interest is in capturing it, not in tracing its unfathomable history.”

  “That is where you are wrong. It needs a history. History lends identity. Without memory we all flounder.”

  “You said you could help us,” Feline reminded her, her grimness starting to curdle. “Get on with it.”

  “We can make a history for the Horn that can become as valid as any other, since its prior history was destroyed. A history that facilitates our need.”

  “I am not clear how a manufactured history could enable us to capture the Horn,” Zed said.

  “You wondered whether the Horn was male or female.” It was clear that Carmen had heard their dialogue. “Change the history to make it male, and it will become male, as there will be nothing to gainsay it.”

  “We can make it male,” Zed agreed. “That won’t capture it.”

  Carmen smiled. She was even prettier then. “But it may do just that, Zed. Consider the psychology of the guardians of the Regions. Mine, for example. I have immense power in my Region, am virtually immortal, and no denizen dares oppose me. But I am lonely. When a fresh male with some gumption comes into the scene, I am interested. Not to exert my power, as I already have plenty of that, but to abate my loneliness, at least for a while. S*x is fine (even here in the Void a bit of the Conspiracy remained operative), romance is better, but what truly counts in the long haul is companionship. Hapless could make an intriguing companion. I would not be lonely while with him. That provides him considerable appeal that is not based on his appearance or abilities. He would be compatible company. S*x and romance are merely tools to recruit him. His hidden quality of character is what makes him worthwhile.”

  “Get on with it,” Feline gritted.

  “We have no evidence that the Horn desires company,” Zed said. “In fact it seems eager to swallow anything within range.”

  “That is the beauty of the special quality of the Void,” Carmen said. “We can provide him with a history and personality that desires exactly that. Such desire is potent, as my own case illustrates. It can trump common sense. Therein is our potential power over it.”

  “Does the Horn have common sense, or any sense at all?” Faro asked. “Or is it just an appetite?”

  “At present it’s just an appetite,” Carmen agreed. “But we can give it character, making it become a worthwhile collaborator. Because of the nature of the Void.”

  “I am not following this stage,” Zed said. He spoke for all of them.

  “We can craft a fictional character to be what we need for the Quest. That is also appealing to an entity that has no character, because of the erasure of the Void. We can make the Horn into that new person. He will accept it because he will crave its definition once he discovers the nature of definition. He will not be able to resist it, any more than a man can resist a seductive woman.” She glanced at Hapless and spread her forming legs under the skirt. That electrified him, though no detail showed.

  “Watch it!” Feline snapped.

  “Merely flexing my forming legs,” Carmen said. “To get the ligaments and muscles aligned. It’s a cautious process.”

  Now Hapless had a question. “You were in legs when Feline converted you to the Totem. But then you were in tails. Why?”

  “The Totem is my natural form. I reverted to it the moment I was converted. If I revert to it now, I will be in tails again and have to start the leg process all over. That would be awkward.”

  Feline did not comment. It was plainly a warning.

  “How can we get the Horn to orient on such a character?” Zed asked. “We don’t even know if it understands our language.”

  “It understands,” Carmen assured him. “All Region creatures do. It helps us deal with visitors.” The word almost sounded like “victims.”

  “So do we just tell it of a nice persona, and see if it reacts?”

  “Better to show it in the play you were considering. Dramatize it.” Carmen glanced again at Hapless. “How did that go, again?”

  “Boy with two good girlfriends and one bad girlfriend,” Hapless said. “It needs a plot, a story line, but that’s the essence.”

  “I believe I can develop that story,” Quin said. “I have had a certain interest in drama. Let’s make the boy a prince—”

  “Prince Voila,” Carmen said. “A VOI name, so that the Void Horn will identify. Played by Hapless, of course.”

  “Point taken,” Quin said. “Prince Voila must marry and rule his kingdom when his father the king dies. He has two girlfriends, but can’t choose between them.”

  “Princess Feline,” Feline said. “First good girlfriend.
My part.”

  “I will play the bad girlfriend, of course,” Carmen said. “Who tries to seduce the prince away from his kingdom and lock him up forever in her Castle of Er*tic Pleasure.”

  “Now wait!” Feline protested.

  “Where else would she take him?” Carmen inquired. “If you want to corrupt a man, you use what you’ve got. Is there any other way to take a prince away from two good girlfriends?”

  That stymied Feline. But she came up with another objection. “Still, we need the second good girl. Nya and Faro are female, but I see this as a human trio. Our cast of characters is incomplete.”

  “That is a problem,” Zed agreed. “Maybe we need to storm-brain for an idea.”

  “Metria,” Hapless said before he thought.

  “That would be mischief,” Feline said. “She always—”

  A small cloud of smoke appeared. “Did I hear my denomination?”

  “Your what?” Hapless asked.

  “Class, family, category, designation, appellation—”

  “Name?” Hapless asked.

  “Whatever,” the cloud agreed irritably. “What’s happening here? Something interesting?”

  “We’re planning to put on a play,” Hapless said.

  “Not interesting,” the demoness agreed. “So I’ll toodle-oo.”

  “Wait for it,” Zed murmured. “I have heard of this demoness.”

  The cloud nudged uphill, bounced, tried again, then exploded into Metria’s dusky humanoid figure. “What the bleep! Why can’t I pop off?”

  “You’re in the Void,” Zed said.

  “No one goes in the Void! Because it’s a one-way trip.”

  “So it seems,” the centaur agreed with a faint suggestion of half a smile.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “We’re on a one-way trip,” Zed said with a straight face.

  “You uttered my name!” Metria said accusingly.

  “I did,” Hapless agreed.

  “That brought me here. What’s going on?”

  “We’re on a Quest, remember?” Hapless said. “This is another stage of it. The Void.”

  “So now I’m stuck here with you cards?”

  “Us whats?”

  “Kings, Queens, Jacks, Tens, Nines—”

  “Jokers?”

  “Whatever! I’m stuck?”

  “Unless you care to help us escape it.”

  The demoness considered. “You have a way to escape the Void?”

  “We hope so. But we’ll need you to play a part.”

  “What part?”

  “Prince Voila must choose between two good girlfriends and one bad girlfriend. We’re missing a girlfriend.”

  Metria eyed him. “Do they get to smooch you?”

  “Uh—”

  “Yes,” Feline said mischievously.

  “I’ll be glad to serve. I’ll make the meanest of girlfriends.”

  “Uh—”

  “We need another good girlfriend,” Feline said.

  The top of Metria’s head blew off and smoke billowed out. “No way! I’m not good, I’m bad.”

  “But we already have the bad girlfriend.”

  “Who is this hussy? I’ll show her who’s bad!”

  “Me,” Carmen said calmly from her rock.

  “And who the bleep are you?”

  “My name is Carmen.”

  “I don’t know any Carmen or even any trainmen. Have you ever acted in a play before? I’ll bet you’re a bleeping amateur who wouldn’t know evil if it smacked you in the face!”

  Carmen simply lifted her dark glasses and looked the demoness in the face.

  Metria dissolved into a splash of water that splatted into the ground.

  “Uh—” Hapless said belatedly.

  The water gathered itself into a puddle that quickly boiled into smoky steam. The steam formed back into the demoness. Demons were not as vulnerable as living folk were. “You’re a gorgon!” Metria spluttered.

  “I’m a gorgon,” Carmen agreed, replacing her glasses. “A really bad girl.”

  Metria regrouped. “Hold on there, water pill. I know something about gorgons. They’re not mean spirited, any more than basilisks are. They just have trouble with their looks. One even married the Good Magician. She was a good wife. Not evil.”

  “We’re not evil,” Carmen agreed.

  “So there! You’re not entitled to the role of bad girlfriend. I am.”

  “You want to be the bad girlfriend?” Zed asked carefully.

  “Of course I do! All I do is make trouble.”

  A look circled the group. It even included Carmen’s dark glasses. It was followed by a nod.

  “Then take the bad girlfriend role,” Feline agreed reluctantly. “Carmen will be the second good girlfriend.”

  Carmen shrugged. “It is not a familiar role, but I will do my best.”

  “And I will do my worst,” Metria said, satisfied.

  They worked out the play in more detail, and rehearsed it, though their lines were somewhat impromptu. They practiced moving about the stage only left and right, never forward or back, so as not to lose their place in the Void. They were ready. They hoped.

  Zed assumed the role of Narrator. “Void Horn!” he called. “We have something for you.”

  Somewhat to their surprise, the Horn came floating up out of the pit. And to their gratification it was now wearing the letter O. They had a lucky break, maybe.

  The Horn started inhaling. “Wait!” Zed cried. “We have a story for you. It’s about eggs. Listen and learn.”

  Would it listen? This was the crux. If Carmen was correct, it would give them at least a little time to make their case. Because at the moment it was Ovoid.

  The centaur plowed right in. “Once upon a time, there was a kingdom of Chicken Little. It had hens galore, laying eggs by the gross for export to other kingdoms, in trade for other goods. That’s how it made its living.” He paused.

  The Horn hung in the air, listening. So far so good.

  “The King of Chicken was getting old,” Zed continued. “His handsome son Prince Voila was slated to inherit the kingdom. But first he had to marry; it was the rule. But there was a problem. Prince Voila had two girlfriends, and he couldn’t choose between them. The first was Princess Feline, of the neighboring kingdom Cat Call. It specialized in cats, and if he married her, the cats would quickly eat up the rats that were raiding the hen houses and stealing the eggs. That was a very good recommendation.”

  Feline stepped up, smiling, looking pretty.

  “The second was Princess Carmen, of the kingdom of Water Fall, where they specialized in waterfalls and whirlpools. If he married her, they would never run out of water for their hens. That was important too.”

  Carmen stood, her legs now complete, and smiled. She was more than pretty.

  “But then a bad girl came into the picture,” Zed said. “She was Princess Metria, of the kingdom of Demon Straight. She didn’t care about eggs; she just wanted to haul the prince into her secret castle and indulge him in perpetual passion.”

  Metria stepped up, her descending décolletage almost showing Too Much and her rising skirt hem showing More Than Enough.

  “Naturally the prince was interested,” the Narrator said. “And naturally the Prince’s family was against this girl. So were the two Good Girlfriends. But there was just something about the Bad Girl. For one thing, she had magic. She could change her clothes without touching them.” Metria demonstrated, her scant outfit becoming even scantier.

  “Action,” the Narrator said. “The Prince receives a message. The dialogue is extemporaneous.” He faded back.

  Suddenly Hapless was in the role. He was Prince Voila, torn by indecision. There was the message in his hand: IT IS TIME, COME TO ME AT MY SECRET CASTLE TONIGHT AND I WILL GIVE YOU SOMETHING THAT WILL REDUCE YOU TO A QUIVERING MOUND OF SATISFACTION. (signed) BAD GIRL.

  Wow! He suspected she had something interesting in mind. He pocketed t
he message and went to lunch.

  Princess Feline was there, as pretty as ever. “Oh, Prince, I was afraid you had forgotten our luncheon date,” she said.

  “I would never do that,” he protested, though in truth it had slipped his mind. He had been distracted by the message. What was the Bad Girl planning to give him? A really fancy dessert?

  “And of course you have a swimming date with Princess Carmen this afternoon. I’m sure she looks good in a swimsuit.” She paused half a moment. “And she’d better be in a swimsuit.”

  “Uh—” He had been secretly hoping she’d be nude. She was reputed to have a fabulous figure.

  “What’s that in your pocket?” Feline asked, fishing it out before he could protest.

  “Uh—”

  “Why this is a note from Bad Princess Metria,” Feline said. “Naturally you’re not planning to go there, are you?”

  “Uh—”

  “Because she couldn’t possibly have anything good for you. You know that, don’t you, Prince?”

  “Uh—”

  She gave him a slantwise look and dropped the matter. The luncheon proceeded normally. The meal consisted of Eggs Galore, a popular entree in the kingdom of Chicken Little. Prince Voila didn’t care to admit that after a lifetime of eggs he was ready to try something else.

  That afternoon he met Princess Carmen at the pool for their swim date. She was in a swimsuit and cap, and her figure was splendid. But her mood diminished it. “Feline tells me that you received a Note from Bad Girl Metria. You threw it away unread, of course.”

  “Uh, no.” He almost could have wished that the two princesses did not get along so well together, sharing information.

  “And she wants to give you something. You’re not interested, of course.”

  “Uh—”

  She gave him a look that slanted the opposite way from the one Feline had, and dropped the subject. Their swimming proceeded normally. It was certainly fun being with Carmen, as it was being with Feline. But what did Metria have in mind? The mystery fascinated him.

  At nightfall he sneaked out the back way and went to the Evil Castle. He felt guilty, but he just had to know what goodies the Bad Girl had for him. “Ah, Prince Voila!” Princess Metria said. “I’m so glad you could make it.”