Page 14 of Fractal Mode


  "I used an insect as a familiar and verified that there were small-world artifacts within this cave," Angus said, setting them down before it. "I believe they are from your world, Oria as you call it. But I had no immediate need to excavate here, so left it undisturbed."

  Colene assessed the situation. "We'll have to shore it up where we dig or take anything," she said. "So it won't fill in. We'll need planks or something."

  "That did not occur to me," Angus said, surprised.

  "That is because your magic is not science," Colene said smugly.

  "I can make planks," Nona said.

  Colene peered into the cave. It was originally larger, but the base had been filled in by refuse so that only the top of it remained open. A man could walk inside if he stooped. "We can't all go in there," she said. "We'd just make a traffic jam."

  "A what?" Nona asked.

  Colene made an image of metal boxlike objects with wheels at their bases lined up on a road, just sitting there. This evidently made no sense to Nona, but Darius was able to fathom it, having seen such vehicles in Colene's reality. It seemed that at times there were too many of them for the road to hold. "We would get in each other's way," he explained.

  "Then I will go in alone to fetch the instrument," Nona said.

  "No." It was Provos, She indicated Darius.

  "I'm to go with her?" he asked, but was receiving the affirmative before he finished speaking.

  Darius looked at Colene. "The rest of us will stay out here and talk with Angus," Colene said.

  So it was decided. "Light," Darius said, not liking the darkness in the depth of the cave. He had saved some of Colene's matches, which were little science-sticks for making fire, but Nona made light simply by fashioning an illusion of a lamp.

  Darius thought about that as they moved in. An illusion which cast real light. Wasn't it then a real lamp? The point of a lamp was to make light; it didn't have to be physical.

  The cave wound into the mountain. He had not realized that it would be so deep. He discovered that he did not really like such confinement; he knew that the rock above was unlikely to collapse right at this moment, after being firm for perhaps thousands of years, but somehow he feared it might. He hoped to get the job done and go back out as soon as possible.

  Something scuttled ahead. The light moved to illuminate it. It was a roach—half again as long as his foot. Darius was disgusted, and actually a bit afraid of it. It wasn't that he thought it could hurt him, but that he didn't want it to touch him. How could he get rid of it without contact?

  "Can you make an image of a roach-eating creature?" he asked Nona.

  "I can—but I don't think they use eyes as we do," she said. "It might not work."

  Nevertheless, a bird appeared, peering around as if searching out bugs. The bird hopped toward the roach, and its feet made a scotching noise as they touched the floor.

  The roach spun about and scooted away.

  Maybe it heard better than it saw, Darius thought. But he hadn't realized that her illusions covered sound as well as sight. Queen Glomerula's picture of Colene and Knave Naylor had been soundless.

  "Oh, yes," Nona said. "Sight, sound, and smell. But touch is harder to do, and it is more versatile when direct, instead of through a familiar."

  That helped explain it. The queen had had to use a spider or insect as a familiar.

  They went on. The passage broadened into a larger cavern, with stalactites directly over their path. Darius didn't like that either; they were too massive, too pointed, too close. Surely they would not fall—yet if one did, it would be devastating. They cast gross moving shadows across the cavern and each other.

  The two of them came to the end of the chamber, and that was it: the end. There was no way out except the way they had entered.

  The lamp brightened, illuminating the whole chamber. The floor was a mass of rubble and dirt and animal droppings. If the nether portion of the cavern had expanded as much as the upper section, the rubbish was several feet deep. How were they to find anything useful in that, without disturbing it and spoiling the giant's archaeology?

  "Look," Nona said, pointing. "A psaltry!"

  "A what?" But her meaning was coming through; he must have pulled the name out of a forgotten recess of his mind. A primitive type of harp.

  Only this was no kind of harp he recognized. The thing was a tall thin wooden triangle, with a circular opening near the base and three rows of pegs below that.

  "But it is broken," she said sadly, picking it up. "See, the strings are gone, and most of the pegs along the top, and there is no bow."

  "Bow?" But again her meaning was registering: this was an instrument played with a bow across the strings, though it was unlike any he had seen before.

  "Where there is one, there may be another," she said. "But buried, out of sight. It may be broken too, but perhaps I can fix it. If only I can find it."

  "Could you get a familiar to search it out?" he asked. "I mean, a small creature, a little mite, something that can go down between the rocks, through the crevices—"

  "A gnat!" she said. "There are some in here." She stooped, feeling through the air with her hands. "Help me, Seqiro," she murmured.

  Then she had it: she had located and tamed a gnat, just as she had the bat on Oria. "Go down through the crevices," she told the gnat. "Show me what you see."

  There was a noise, but not of any gnat. Darius stared back toward the entrance tunnel. A pair of eyes were staring back at him. "Trouble, I think," he muttered.

  A rat. Seqiro thought. Icon sense it, but can not enter its mind to control it. That is a vicious creature.

  "A weapon," Darius said. "I need a weapon."

  Nona picked up a chip of rock. In her hands it became a great broadsword with a shiny steel blade. She gave it to him. Then she made a long spear with a trident tip for herself. "I have no flair for combat," she said. "But maybe I can at least hold it at bay from me,"

  "Combat isn't my specialty either," he admitted. He had carried a sword, but lost it when the despots made them change to green tunics. He had not had any skill with its use; it was merely better than bare hands against animals.

  He stepped toward the rat. He saw now that the thing was close to the size of a horse, but short-legged so that it could fit through the small tunnel. It must have come in from an offshoot along the way, smelling them. "Back! Back!" he cried. "Away, vermin!"

  The rat moved to the side. It evinced no fear, only caution. It wasn't sure about them, and had no intention of leaving until it knew whether they represented prey.

  They had to get rid of it. Darius stepped toward it—and his ankle turned on a loose stone, making him stumble.

  Instantly the rat charged. Darius lunged with the sword, stabbing it in the shoulder, but its tough hide snagged the blade and wrenched the sword out of Darius' hand. The rat crashed into him, biting at his face, and he fell on his back, helpless.

  The rat pinned him to the floor and bit at his left shoulder. He felt the sharp front teeth sink in, slicing through tunic and flesh, but there was no pain.

  "Back! Back!" Nona cried, poking at the rat's snout with her trident. The beast made a sound that might have been a squeak had it been small, but was a hissing snarl now. Its head whipped around, and it caught the shaft of the spear between its teeth. The thing was hauled from Nona's hands, and she fell back, terrified.

  "Dagger!" Darius cried, still pinned.

  One appeared in Nona's hand, then floated across to his right hand, which was closest to her. He clutched it so that it pointed up, moved his hand down under the beast's throat, and stabbed up. He seemed to score only on loose folds of skin, which moved aside without being penetrated. So he moved farther down, trying for the belly as the rat tried again for his face. The mouth opened, and its hot breath came down on his face as his hand rammed up with all the force he could muster.

  This time he scored. The blade dug into the soft, tight underbelly of the rodent. Darius
hauled it forward, sawing open a gash. He felt blood pouring out, soaking his tunic, but that was good, because it was the rat's.

  The rat's head paused. Then the thing scrambled off and away. The dagger was hauled away with it, embedded. He might not have hurt the creature seriously, but he had given it something to think about, and it probably wouldn't return in a hurry.

  Now his left shoulder started hurting. His mind had cut off the pain before, but it could do so no longer. He was gravely injured. He struggled to get to his feet, but the pain overwhelmed him.

  "Darius!" It was Nona, trying to help him up.

  "It's no use," he gasped. "My shoulder—any motion—the pain—"

  "I can help," she said. "Let me touch the wound." She kneeled beside him and slid her left hand into his torn tunic, around to his shoulder.

  To his amazement, the pain faded. "You have anesthetic magic!" he gasped.

  "Yes." She kept her hand on him, but changed her position, sitting down, leaning back against the cave wall, her legs extended beside him. "Let me get you closer." She tried to haul him up with her free hand, but couldn't.

  Darius took advantage of the cessation of pain to sit up. Then she put her right arm around him from behind and hauled him back down against her. His head landed on her soft bosom. He tried to protest, but she held him close, reaching farther around him with her right arm until her right hand joined her left inside his tunic. She had him pinned to her, but it was a far different sensation than that of the rat pinning.

  Then he realized that not only was the pain abating, so was the injury. He could feel the torn tendons and flesh knitting themselves together, the blood clearing. She wasn't just making him comfortable, she was healing him!

  "Yes," she murmured in his ear. "But it works best when I am closest. Please don't move."

  He started to turn his head, but that only put his cheek against her breast. He decided to follow orders and remain quite still. It wasn't as if there was anything unpleasant about this position. He was suffering the most delicious type of captivity imaginable. But if Colene caught him like this—

  I'll settle with you later, Colene's thought came.

  Oh, that mind communication! Sometimes it was downright inconvenient.

  Yes, Colene's thought came. But there was laughter in it. She understood the situation. Thank God I got her to put on a halter.

  Darius thought about that—and decided not to think about it. So he thought about Colene instead.

  Good.

  Which was one of the things about Colene: she really wasn't the jealous type. She got upset when she saw him with other women—there had been one very awkward scene with a cat-woman called Pussy—but that was because she felt he should be paying such attention to Colene herself. He frustrated her by refusing to take advantage of her in her youth. So Colene had reason for her reactions. She did not react from misunderstandings. She would torment him about this present situation, but never lose sight of the reality.

  Oh. yeah?

  He hoped.

  The bosom moved. Nona was laughing now. She had been picking this up too. Damn that horse!

  You can not expect an animal to appreciate the nuances of the human condition.

  And that was Seqiro himself—who could indeed appreciate such nuances, when in contact with human minds.

  "Have your fun, beast," Darius muttered.

  In a surprisingly brief time his shoulder was entirely healed. He flexed his arm and could find no pain, no problem. Now Nona let him get up; she was done with him.

  "How can I thank you?" he asked her sincerely.

  "You gained your injury defending me from the monster," she pointed out. "It was only right that I help you recover."

  She had a point. "Let's just say that I am impressed," he said.

  You sure are!

  "And I do thank you," he continued doggedly.

  Nona nodded, just as if nothing else were going on. "You are welcome."

  He glanced down at himself. The blood was caking on his tunic, and it remained torn where the rat had bitten him. In fact the blood had soaked through to his new undershorts. What a mess!

  "Change it," she suggested. In her hand appeared a new tunic, generated from a thread of the old. Then, after a pause, a new pair of shorts too. Colene had taught her well.

  He did not hesitate. He pulled off his soiled items and used their clean portions to wipe off the blood that remained on him, with the help of some water Nona conjured. Then he pulled on the new clothing. After what she had done for his body, she could see any part of it she wanted to. It wasn't the first time.

  Yeah, but I was there, before.

  "You are still here," he murmured in response.

  Then they resumed their search for the instrument. The gnat had been buzzing through the crevices all this while, and Nona had been receiving its reports. Suddenly she jumped. "That's it!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands.

  They used the shaft of the trident to pry the covering rubble up, carefully, and set it aside. In a moment the surface of a container showed. The thing was sealed in its own case! That was a break they hardly deserved.

  Darius lifted out the box, and Nona immediately made a similar box of the same size and shape and set it in the hole. Then they replaced the covering rocks. The site had been restored, except for the one borrowed article.

  Nona opened the case. There lay a trapezoidal object with a number of strings stretched from pegs on either side across two central bridges. Beneath the strings were two holes decorated by rose patterns.

  Darius stared. He had seen something like this before. But where? He had no idea what it was.

  "At the cliffs by the sea," Nona said. "The instruments of the Megaplayers."

  That was it! Those huge stone devices—one was just like this, only this one was of a size to be handled by a person of Nona's stature. It was ironic that the huge instrument was there on small Oria, while the small one was here on huge Jupiter. Each in the wrong world.

  "It is a dulcimer," Nona said, admiring it. "A hammered dulcimer, and here are the hammers. Its magic has protected it all these years, and I will be able to play it once I tune it. This is a beautiful instrument, better than mine."

  "A beautiful instrument," he echoed. It was indeed that, physically; it glistened as if made yesterday.

  She closed the case. Then Darius led the way out of the cavern, alert for any appearance of the rat, while Nona carried the precious dulcimer.

  They emerged to bright daylight; their eyes had become accustomed to the lesser light of her illusion lamp, which she had managed to maintain throughout. Colene was there, as he blinked, adjusting. "What's this about you in the arms of another woman?" she demanded. But she couldn't hold the pose; she hugged him. "I'm glad you're not torn up, you rascal."

  Darius decided not to say anything.

  Angus flew them back to his home. This tune Nona rode too, carrying the ancient instrument.

  At the house Nona got to work on the dulcimer, adjusting the strings, making sure everything was sound. Darius learned that the others had become better acquainted during their wait outside the cave. Angus was interested in their world of origin, and especially interested in Colene's statement that all the members of their little party came from different variants of that same world. He had not believed in other realities, but was becoming convinced as Seqiro showed him mental pictures of the Virtual Mode. "I had thought our universe was vast and varied," he said. "I may have underestimated the case."

  "The Virtual Mode has been an amazement to all of us," Darius said. "Every layer of it is another reality, each complete in itself, just as this one is. But they may have different fundamental laws as well as different customs. Colene and I are still working out our differences, which are mostly cultural."

  "Even when there is a common culture, in all the universe, it can be difficult," Angus said. "I have studied the legends of our people, trying to align them with the evidence I find in the gr
ound, and they do offer insights."

  Nona looked up. "It is ready," she said. She had set the dulcimer up on a stand she had made, so that she could sit and play it conveniently. It tilted up and back, the broad side at the base, the narrow side away from her. "But I do not know whether I can do the type of magic you suggest. I have never—"

  "You have never played on a magic instrument," Angus said.

  "Yes. Only common ones are allowed for theows."

  "Play it, then, little woman," Angus said. "The magic will manifest—or it will not. Then we shall know."

  Nona took her two delicate hammers, which looked like oversized needles, being no more than delicate little pieces of wood and felt with needle-eye circles on the ends, and she addressed the dulcimer. She touched the strings, and the music began.

  Darius had heard and enjoyed music many times, and was familiar with the sound of many instruments. But he was surprised by the finesse with which Nona played. Her little hammers touched the strings so rapidly that it seemed she was striking randomly, but the tune indicated otherwise. This was a divine melody. It was so delicate it seemed faint, yet it also seemed to fill the universe. It touched his heart and shook the mighty planet with the same refrain.

  As he listened, Darius was satisfied that whatever it was that Nona had to do, he was bound to support it. Her mission was right and necessary. The rest of his life did not matter.

  The piece was all too brief. When it ended, he could remember none of the melody or harmony. He knew only that their decision to help this woman had been correct.

  It was Angus who spoke. "It is true," he said. "You are the one. You have the magic of conversion, and I will help you in whatever way I can, until you have accomplished your purpose."

  We all will. Seqiro thought, interpreting the sentiment of the others.

  Darius realized that it had been only to enlist the active help of the giant that Nona had played the dulcimer. But the magic had touched them all. They were all committed to her mission.