Page 23 of Fractal Mode


  Nona departed. But then things got interesting. They are trying it, Seqiro thought. The woman who returns to Darius will not be Nona, and the man Nona returns to will not be Darius. I can not be sure, because Keli is not thinking of this, but I suspect that they believe that Darius and Nona are interested in each other.

  "A nice ploy," Darius muttered.

  After an interval, he saw Nona returning. "Oh, so they didn't try it," he said.

  That is not Nona.

  Darius looked again. It was Nona! She was identical, and she moved the same way. She had been a perfectly beautiful young woman, and she remained so. In fact she came to sit beside him, and she kissed him on the side of the face, then caught his head to turn his face to hers for a full kiss.

  But Seqiro relayed her thoughts to him, and they were impenetrable. They were not the thoughts of the woman he knew, but of an alien. He had been misled by her appearance despite the horse's warning; without that warning he would have been entirely fooled. Except for his surprise that Nona should act this way. She had kissed him once, when confused after a conjuration, but otherwise been more reserved. Romantic aggression was not her way. In that respect she was quite different from Colene.

  Potia got up and left. Would that have tipped him off? He wasn't sure.

  Then Nona's thoughts came, Darius? But I was about to return to the table. Why are you—oh!

  "He's not Darius," Darius muttered.

  Darius? This isn't you? It looks exactly like you, but you never tried to touch me like this.

  "I'm not your man," he said without moving his lips. "There's a woman who looks just like you here with me, and she's kissing me. What's he doing with you?"

  He must think we are lovers! she thought indignantly. That seemed to be sufficient answer.

  "Do we reveal that we know their ploy?" he asked soundlessly. The Nona emulation was now pressing his captured hand against her full bosom. "If we do, they may proceed to something we like less."

  If we don't, we are going to be lovers by proxy, she responded. I would prefer to be with the real you. She meant because she trusted him, but her thought did not exclude the aspect of love. That startled him for another reason. Her thought carried an added nuance: the legendary Earle, in the story told on Jupiter, had looked like a cross between Angus and Darius. She had recognized this, and suppressed the realization.

  "We had better get together," he said. "But let's not reveal what we know. Seqiro, guide us."

  Follow my thought. A picture showed a hall leading away.

  He disengaged far enough to stand. The emulation stood with him. She did something to her red tunic that enabled him to see down inside its front. He knew she wasn't the real Nona, and knew that every action of hers was calculated to damp down his logic and fire up his passion, but it remained an effective view. The more so because she did not wear the halter undergarment Colene had arranged for the real Nona.

  "A private chamber," he said aloud. "Maybe we can find one." He looked around.

  Null-Nona looked also, evidently understanding him well enough. She spied the entrance to a chamber, and urged him there.

  "Where are you, Nona?" he asked silently.

  "Down the passage." Seqiro renewed the mental map, so that the two of them knew where they were with respect to each other.

  "I don't like this one," he said aloud. "Let's find a better one." He headed down the passage toward the real Nona.

  Null-Nona caught his arm, almost turning him into another chamber, but he persisted. "Not good enough. But down here, maybe—" He moved on despite her.

  Desperate, Null-Nona pulled off her tunic to reveal her naked body. It was a shock; in Darius' culture women wore bulky diapers under their exterior clothing to conceal their alluring contours, lest any male who spied them be overcome by lust. Even his encounter with Colene's quite different attitude had not been enough to reverse a lifetime's conditioning. Occasional glances down necklines or up skirts were one thing, for they never showed as much as they seemed to; the complete array, without warning, was another. He experienced instant desire.

  She embraced him ardently, and sought to draw him into another chamber. The irony was that her passion was surely genuine; she wanted more than anything else to breed with him.

  But she was not the woman she seemed to be, and he would be in trouble if he bred with either the emulation or the real one. So he resisted, though in other circumstances he would have been glad to cooperate. It was a considerable challenge.

  Meanwhile Nona's thoughts were coining to him. He is trying to get me into a chamber. I can not resist further without revealing what I know. Yet if I enter that chamber—

  "Enter it," he replied. "But guide me in. Then we shall see what we shall see."

  Don't take long, she thought urgently.

  Now you know what I am experiencing. Stave's thought came. /, too, would rather be with you, Nona.

  Then have your paramour assume my form! she snapped mentally. Darius, you must get here immediately, or I must use my magic on your image.

  Which would mean that the rabble would know her power. Darius put aside the irony of her two thoughts involving Stave and himself—in concert they implied that Darius was her lover—and hauled her distractingly exposed image along the hall to that chamber. "This one," he said. "This one seems right."

  Null-Nona forgot herself to the extent of speaking. "No! No!" Her sentiment would have been evident in any language. She wrapped herself around him, trying to bear him down right in the passage. Anything to gain the breeding before he discovered the truth.

  They stumbled into the chamber. There was the real Nona, in a similar state of dishabille except for her underclothing, almost exactly as exciting, with Null-Darius climbing on her.

  "Ha!" Darius cried with righteous anger. He threw Null-Nona away from him and clapped a hand on Null-Darius. "Who are you?"

  Nona stared at Null-Nona with feigned astonishment. "Who are you?" she echoed.

  Darius took a closer look at Null-Darius. He let his mouth drop open, as if just realizing the man's similarity to himself.

  "He looks just like you!" Nona said.

  "There are two of you!" Darius said. He hoped that his interest in their deliciously exposed bodies would be taken for surprise. They were like identical twins, one half undressed and the other completely so, and he would have loved to dream of a situation like this. Provided either were truly his to dream of.

  The two emulations were not stupid. They affected the same surprise as the real ones, trying to confuse the real ones. But Darius cut through that. "Say something in your own language," he told the two Nonas.

  That separated them more surely than the partial clothing. Only one even understood his words—though it was the mental translation she grasped—and so only she could answer appropriately. "I am Nona," she declared. Then: "And you must be Darius, because you spoke correctly." The rabble could not distinguish one language from the other well enough to realize that they were being partly deceived.

  Darius and Nona embraced. They were now confirming for the two emulations that they were indeed associating with each other, for this was better than being subject to the breeding program of this realm. Darius felt guilty, knowing how Colene would resent this particular byplay.

  Then they turned to face the other two, who were embracing each other, still trying to pretend. But their game was lost; they could breed with each other if they wished, gaining nothing. It was clear that they understood that the visitors had stumbled on part of the truth, and needed an explanation.

  "Tell us what this means," Nona said to them. "Why did you try to deceive us? Had we not happened to see you together, we might have been fooled." Thus protecting Seqiro's secret.

  "You must breed," the man said. "But you may choose with whom to breed. We wanted to be first."

  "You can change form!" Nona said as if just realizing it. "You can imitate us!"

  "We thought it would make it easier
for you," the woman said.

  I have stalled as long as I can. Stave's thought came. Either join me, or let me have her.

  "It is better to maintain a united front," Darius said. "We must protect him too."

  "We must unify our party," Nona said, so that the rabble could understand. "We must be together, so that no one can fool us again. Where is Stave? Where is the horse?"

  "We must find them," Darius said.

  They marched out, followed somewhat helplessly by the emulations. Apparently it was bad form to change appearance in the sight of others, so they were locked in.

  They walked down the passage, peeking into chambers as if searching each for their lost companions. It would have been a hopeless quest, for there were many chambers, had they not been guided by Seqiro.

  They found the horse still at the table, with Bel the yellow-maned mare. I have no objection to breeding, he thought.

  "Hold off for a while," Darius muttered. "We may need your full attention." He put his hand on the horse's back, as if giving a command, and Seqiro obliged by leaving the mare and following him.

  They continued to explore chambers, trying to make it seem as if they were about to find the right one by chance. I have learned that the creatures here are not completely human, Seqiro thought. Neither are they animal. They may be reckoned as animal with human intelligence, and the ability to assume the forms they desire. By my definition they are the equivalent of the folk on the surface, and not inferior.

  "Then why are they so eager to breed with us?" Darius asked.

  They believe they are inferior, because they lack magic. They do not consider form-changing to be proper magic.

  "This is foolishness!" Darius said. "They should be satisfied with what they are."

  To a horse, many human conventions seem similarly foolish.

  Darius knew better than to argue, but Nona didn't. "What conventions?" she asked, as if addressing Darius.

  Confining your breeding to a single stallion or mare. You should breed with the nearest feasible creature of your species, when in season.

  "That does seem to be what the rabble want," she admitted. "So it seems that they are as much animal as human in attitude as well as body."

  Here is the chamber.

  Nona entered it. "Why, Stave!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing?" As if there could be any confusion on that score.

  Keli was chagrined, but not because she was naked. "He is breeding with me," she said. Her words were now clear to them all, because Seqiro had penetrated her mind and was translating freely. "Can't your business wait another minute until we are done?"

  But Stave, abashed despite his knowledge that this interruption was incipient, was hastily straightening out his blue tunic. In any other circumstance he would have been mortified to have Nona discover him in such state with another woman. In this case he had begged her to do just that. Still, his embarrassment was striking all of them, mentally.

  Darius did what he could to restore equilibrium. "We have learned that these folk are able to change form. One assumed the likeness of Nona, and another the likeness of me, so that we were almost fooled." He indicated the two figures behind him, who still looked exactly like himself and Nona. "We decided that we need to remain together as a group, so that we can no longer be fooled this way. Otherwise we might be hopelessly divided, and never be able to leave this place."

  Stave looked at the emulated Darius and Nona. He was impressed. "You are right. I might never have found you, if you had not found me."

  "Then stay together," Keli said. "But breed me now."

  "Much as I would like to, I must go with my friends," Stave told her with real regret. His feelings were still coming through: he very much wanted a relationship with Nona, but knew that this was probably doomed for reasons not related to whatever feeling she had for him. Thus the offer of a beautiful creature like Keli, or of a creature in the exact likeness of Nona, had considerable appeal.

  "But they too must breed," Keli reminded him. "A thousand times, each one."

  "What?" Nona demanded. This was information they had had only via Seqiro, so it was necessary to establish this independent source of information.

  "The rabble has this requirement for visitors from the surface," Stave explained. "Each must breed with a thousand rabble, before being free. This is to enable more children to have magic that will allow them to return to the surface."

  The rabble are gathering.

  "We had better get out of here," Darius said tersely. Then, to Stave: "We do not accept any such requirement. They can not hold us to it."

  "We do not accept this," Nona translated for Keli, with Seqiro making sure the woman understood.

  They stepped out of the chamber, and paused.

  The passage was now filled with people and creatures. It was apparent that their small group of four was not going to be able to go anywhere unless the rabble allowed it.

  CHAPTER 11

  SLICK

  THE walk was reasonably routine, considering. They did encounter a dragon, but avoided it, and similarly avoided something that seemed to be a crossbreed between a scorpion and a tractor. They crossed a sea made of jelly solid enough to walk on—that was nervous business, because it might change to thin water at any boundary—and passed a region in which the ground seemed wooden and the trees were made of stone and earth. They did not pass any realities with telepathic animals; that would be in the vicinity of Seqiro's anchor, perhaps on the opposite side of the Virtual Mode.

  It was, however, a longer journey, requiring several days. Provos' supplies were adequate; she might not remember details of the many realities they would cross, but she had known how long their excursion would be.

  Colene discovered that she rather liked being with Provos, who had many sterling qualities despite being hard to talk with and of another generation. Colene wished that her own parents had had more such qualities. Scratch a suicidal girl, she thought wryly, and you found a fouled-up family. Provos seemed to have no evil habits. Had she ever married? It was hard to tell, but Colene suspected not, because her house was too clean and uncluttered.

  What would Provos do on Earth? Colene hadn't thought of that, but now it worried her. Colene herself had a home, such as it was, but she couldn't take Provos there. In fact, maybe she couldn't take herself there; she had been away for a month or so, and there might be awkward questions. But what were they going to do—throw her in prison? She could maybe hide Provos in Dogwood Bumshed, her hideaway. It wasn't as if she were going to stay any length of time.

  But Provos herself could help. All they had to do was give her time to get her memory straight, and she would know what pitfalls awaited them. That and common sense should get them through, Colene hoped. She really hadn't been thinking of the possible complications of her home reality when she blithely said she could get the fractal information.

  ON the fifth day of this leg of the journey the territory began to look familiar. They were coming to the Earth Colene knew. She experienced a certain bitter nostalgia. She had not loved her life on Earth, yet it had had its points. She had gone over some of them with Seqiro, in a fashion expiating emotional events, but there were others. Her feelings were mixed.

  She could have used her bicycle here. But that had been lost to the despots, who had surely been much perplexed by it, and anyway Provos didn't have one. So they plodded on along beside the increasingly stable highway.

  They found Colene's town, and walked the street toward it. Cars blinked in and out on the road as the two of them continued to cross realities. Colene had left this place at dawn, with little traffic, so it had been some time before she had realized exactly how strange the Virtual Mode was. Now it was afternoon, with plenty of traffic, and the way the cars popped hi and out of existence was startling. Trees were stationary, and animals generally slow-moving, so the eye could reorient on them. But the cars were traveling, some of them at high speed—if there was any driver in Oklahoma who even knew w
hat the speed limit was, he concealed that information—so that they shot through the ten-foot section of whatever reality Colene stood in like the proverbial bats out of hell. Provos was alarmed, but adjusted as Colene reassured her; they were reasonably safe on the sidewalk.

  Then they reached Colene's house. It was the wrong design and color and had the wrong trees in the yard. But these details kept shifting as they approached, until everything was pretty close.

  Colene led the way around to Bumshed, which was where the anchor actually was. Until they passed through it, nothing really counted; even if they saw people, they would not be in the same reality, and a miss by even one thin reality would be a whole lot more significant than a miss by a mile.

  They entered the shed and passed through the anchor. Suddenly the things Colene had left behind appeared: crumpled blankets, a covered privy pot, her teddy bear, Raggedy Ann doll, books, and her guitar. And the knife. All the things she had gathered together here when she planned to kill herself. Only she hadn't had the guts to do it—and then the Virtual Mode had come, and she had grabbed the anchor and gone off to seek Darius.

  She stood looking at it all. There was her locked box, containing her instruments of death and her diary addressed to Maresy Doats. There was her picture of Maresy, grazing in a nice field. There was the artificial carnation flower saved from the prom. And there, tucked in between the pot and its cover, was her farewell note for her family.

  Hadn't they checked here? Hadn't they seen that note? It couldn't be that they had never even missed her!

  She stooped to pull it out. She read it. DEAR FOLKS: DONT WORRY; I AM FINE. I JUST HAVE SOMEWHERE TO GO. COLENE.

  The sheet blurred. She was crying.

  Provos put her arms around Colene and held her close. It was a comfort Colene needed. Somehow she had hardly thought of this, of what she had left here. It was as if she really had sliced her arms and bled into the pot until she died, leaving all her precious things around her body. Now she had returned from that death, and they had faithfully waited for her.