But in the interim, the rabble had arrived. Now the four of them were fairly caught.
BACK at the dais chamber, Darius faced Null-Pussy, who was now free but retained her last form. Apparently the rabble did not bother to change forms unless they had specific reason; they simply remained as they were. "I am talking to you because I best know how," she said. "I have not told the others your secret, but have told them I can bargain more effectively with you than another person might."
"True," Darius said. "I shall be glad to talk with you. I am not the leader of this party, but the others will know what I say."
"We have no leaders. We merely follow our custom. We require four thousand breedings from you. We prefer not to have to duel for each one, as it is apparent that we can not either persuade you or force you to breed. We don't want you conjuring yourselves out again where we might lose you."
"We returned because we did not want to die," Darius said. "We would rather settle with you than do that. But we can't remain for a thousand days. Is there any alternative?"
"If you can breed four thousand times in one day—"
He laughed. "We can not! But if we do not return to the surface when we need to, in several days, the point of our retreat to this region will be lost. Could we go, and return to you after Nona brings the anima?"
"If we let you go, you will never return," Null-Pussy said.
"I fear that is true. But we may not find much point in life if we do not. You may hold us here, but you can not keep us alive if we do not wish it."
"If you try to die, you will become weak. Then we can tie you and force you to eat, as we force you to breed. You will not like it as well, and neither will we, but it is a way."
"Unless we die too quickly."
"We do not believe you really wish to die."
Darius knew that was true. "We prefer to find some other way. An alternative that satisfies us and you. Do you have a suggestion?"
"We would rather have you breed voluntarily. If one among you can not find a way to accept it, the others could breed more, to fill that person's quota."
Now, there was a notion. "You don't care who breeds, as long as there is the allotted number of breedings?"
"The allotted number of breedings by surface folk, who have magic," Null-Pussy clarified. "To produce offspring who may return there. We prefer that your males breed our females, because there will be many more offspring then."
That meant that Nona could most readily be excused. That would please her. "Then what you really want is to return."
"Yes, but we can not. We are barred."
There was another notion. "You are barred by the present society. By the despots."
"By the animus!" Nona said.
"And the anima. We are barred regardless, because we lack magic."
"True," Nona agreed.
"Not true! You don't lack magic," Darius said. "You have a different kind of magic, as I do. I can't do illusion, but I can conjure. You can't do illusion, but you can change your shape. The despots can't do that."
"Shape-change is not magic," she protested. "We all do that. You also mind-talk."
"Seqiro mind-talks. He does not call it magic either, but you do. It is a matter of definition. All you need is an adjustment of attitude. Maybe because I am not from this world I can see what you do not. You are being barred for no reason. And maybe we can do something about that."
There was a murmur of interest throughout the cavern. The rabble were picking up on this.
"What can you do?" Null-Pussy asked.
"We can change the definition. Nona is going to bring the anima, and when she does she will be queen, with authority to do that. Then you can be free to return." He looked at Nona for confirmation.
"But shape-change isn't magic," Nona said.
"Who says that? The despots?"
Her eyes widened. "If the despots lose their power—"
"Then you will make the definition," he said. "You will declare shape-changing to be a type of magic, and open the gates. We have seen that the rabble are not evil folk; they have treated us fairly by their conventions. They will make reasonable citizens of surface Oria. The rabble have good reason to help you, and to let you return to the surface so that you can complete your mission."
"You would do that?" Null-Pussy asked.
Nona considered. It was evident that she had never addressed this question before: what she would do as queen. "I don't know. There are so many of you down here, and if you all came out—"
"Free four thousand," Stave suggested. "Instead of the breedings. They will be able to breed on the surface, with anyone who likes their magic."
"Four thousand, spread across the surface," Nona said, appreciating the parallel. "That might be all right."
"Four thousand," Null-Pussy agreed. "Instead of the breedings."
"Then it is agreed," Darius said, relieved. "You will free us, Nona will bring the anima, and will allow four thousand of you to return to the surface."
"Almost," Null-Pussy said. "We must have assurance that this will be done."
"You will not accept her word?"
"We can not accept her word. She may be killed before she brings the anima. She may leave Oria. She may change her mind. The others may not allow it. We must be sure of our breedings if she defaults. We must keep some of you here."
"But Nona may not be able to do it alone," Darius said. "The despots will be after her; they are already on watch. I must go to help conjure her to safety, and Seqiro must go to keep us in mind communication. We can not understand each other without him."
"Then Stave," the woman said. "He must remain to do the breedings."
"I will do it," Stave said, surprised.
"All four thousand?" Darius asked, amazed. "But I thought—"
"Oh, Stave!" Nona exclaimed, horrified.
"We will accept them all from one of you," Null-Pussy agreed. "But it will take longer."
"It will take eleven years," Stave said. "If she does not honor the agreement. But Nona does not want me, and if I can't have her, I might as well do her a favor she will truly appreciate. It is not as if the labor is arduous."
Nona's mouth opened and closed without sound. It was evident that she did not want Stave to do this, but saw no better alternative. Finally she managed to speak. "I—I had not decided about you, Stave. You are a fine man. I must not ask you to sacrifice yourself in this manner—"
"Beware," Darius murmured. "Three of us free—it's a good compromise."
"But he will have to—it is so—every day a different—suppose I fail to bring the anima? Eleven years—"
She views that much breeding with horror.
Darius realized that some finesse was required here. "Stave is doing this for you, Nona," he said. "To enable you to complete your destiny. Of course you will bring the anima, and honor the deal with the rabble, and he will then be free."
"But the risk—"
"To make it easier for him, the women can assume your likeness," Darius said. "He might almost forget—"
"But I don't want him to forget!" Then, startled by her own admission, Nona tried to come to terms with it. "I don't want to give you up, Stave. But I think I must. If I fail to bring the anima, I will be dead, and you deserve what comfort you may find with women of my likeness. If I succeed, then perhaps we—"
"Of course," Stave agreed, realizing that his best chance to win Nona's love was coming about because of his commitment to breed with other women.
"Then it is agreed," Null-Pussy said. "The three of you are free to go when you choose." She turned to Stave. "You are not. You must breed today, and every day until we know what is to be. You may choose from among us. Will you choose me first?"
Stave glanced at Nona, who averted her face. "Yes, you," he agreed.
"Then come with me," she said, going to catch his arm in almost predatory fashion. She intended to make sure that her chance did not slip away again. "What likeness do you prefer to hav
e me assume?"
"Nona's," he said.
"That is easy, for I have done that one before." She was changing as they left the dais.
Darius took the real Nona in his arms, to forestall her objection to what Null-Pussy-Nona was doing. "It is best this way," he said. He hoped the rabble woman would not think of the Colene likeness; he would feel uneasy about that. He did understand this aspect of Nona's objection.
"I will remember Stave's sacrifice," Nona said, burying her face against his shoulder.
THE next few days were easy. The rabble made no demands on them, and were friendly. Food was provided, and a chamber for them to share. Though Nona showed no romantic inclination toward Darius, she preferred to sleep close to him and Seqiro, to avoid any possible confusion of identities. For now a number of the rabble had assumed the likenesses of Darius, Nona, and Stave, and these were encountered randomly. It seemed to be a passing fashion.
Keli approached them. She had been the one who originally tried to seduce Stave. "I have not been able to get close to him, because of the press of supplicants," she said. "But I feel I have a right to breed with him, because I came to know him first. Will you intercede for me?"
"What?" Nona asked, shocked.
Again, Darius saw that diplomacy was best. "Perhaps Nona will, if you give her something she appreciates."
"I will do anything!" Keli said.
Darius turned to Nona. "You know Stave must be with a different woman each day. It may be better to have him with a known one than an unknown one, to the extent feasible."
"I have nothing to do with this," Nona said stiffly.
"I was thinking that we do not yet know the extent of your magic," he continued. "You have abilities you yourself do not yet know. Perhaps there are new things you could do, if you had guidance."
She looked at him. "You are thinking of something," she said suspiciously.
"The magic of these rabble: that might be an excellent talent for you. Then you could conceal yourself on the surface without resorting to illusion. Since the despots can penetrate illusion—"
"But that is inherent," Keli said. "It is part of us. If it is not your magic, you can not do it, just as we can not do your magic."
"How can you be sure?" he asked. "Nona has very special powers, and Seqiro can link your minds closely. Perhaps—"
Nona's attention abruptly focused. "If I could learn that—"
"I will teach you!" Keli cried. "If I possibly can!" "And if Nona learns this, she will ask Stave to choose you next," Darius said, sealing the deal.
Nona glanced at him, realizing that he had maneuvered her into it. But her objection was tempered by dawning realism, and a genuine interest in learning the magic.
CHAPTER 15
RADICAL
COLENE and Esta woke together as the first light seeped through the heavy curtains at the window. Provos was already up and repacking their things. She seemed to have taken part of one of the heavy drapes and cut it up; Colene was about to inquire about this odd behavior, but Esta touched her arm.
"Is it true?" Esta asked hesitantly. "Am I really going to go away with Uncle Slick?"
"It's true," Colene said. "You'll go today."
"But Mom will worry."
Colene knew that syndrome. "You'll send her letters that can't be traced. Your uncle will know how to do it. And you'll never mention what has been. In time maybe you'll forget it yourself."
"Oh, I wish!"
Colene ordered breakfast, knowing that they would have time to shower and dress before it arrived. She was correct. Provos seemed surprised when the food came; this was her first experience, in her memory.
As they finished eating, Provos became nervous. She peered out the window. Colene felt a mental uh-oh.
Colene picked up the phone and dialed Slick's number. There was no answer; the line merely opened. "Colene. Tell Slick we're ready now. Hurry—and watch out."
There was no response. Colene hoped that she had done it correctly. "Let's get moving," she said. Then, glancing at Esta: "We'd better mask you. In fact, we'd better mask all of us, because it could be my folks tracing my call or something, or yours. They'll have descriptions."
Provos brought out three things. This was what she had made from the drape. She opened one out and lo, it was a sort of cap or wig. She set it on Esta's head and pulled it snug under the girl's chin, and Esta was transformed into a cross between a nun and a foreign dignitary.
"But that will stand out like a sore eyeball," Colene protested. "We'll hardly get through the hotel lobby, let alone travel around town unnoticed!"
Provos came to her and put a similar cap on her head, and fastened it. Colene shut up, having to trust the woman's judgment.
Finally Provos put one on her own head. Then she led the way to the door, carrying Esta's suitcase.
Colene and Esta followed. "Play along," Colene told the girl. "She knows what she's doing, even if we don't." She hoped. This ploy seemed farfetched and perhaps dangerous.
They went down to the lobby, where Colene approached the desk and checked out. A different shift was on, and the man affected not to notice the headdresses.
They walked outside. Police cars were pulling up to the hotel. Colene suffered a start of apprehension. She wanted to bolt and hide in the bushes, but Provos marched right toward the cars. She approached the first cop as he strode toward the hotel, and said something in her own language.
The policeman shrugged her off. "Ma'am, I don't speak your lingo. We're on other business. You'll have to go to your embassy for a translator. Please stand aside." He resumed his advance on the hotel.
Suddenly the sense of it registered. The police were looking for fugitives, not conspicuous foreigners! Provos had hidden them right under the pursuers' noses.
Colene peered around for Slick's car, but didn't see it. He wasn't here yet. But it was dangerous to linger long. What were they to do?
Provos didn't hesitate. She walked right to a strange car driven by a bearded man and opened the rear door.
"Different car! Of course!" Colene breathed. She and Esta piled in after the woman.
Sure enough, the man in the cap and dark glasses and fake beard was Slick. Provos had remembered.
They pulled away from the hotel without event. They had made a clean getaway. "Provos, I don't know what we'd have done without you!" Colene exclaimed. The woman nodded, removing her headdress; it had served its purpose.
"Got your call," Slick said. "You played it close, kid."
"Well, we didn't want to rush breakfast," Colene said. Esta tittered, and Slick smiled.
He drove several blocks, then parked. "Change cars," he said. This was the kind of procedure he was accustomed to.
The other car was a rattletrap with a bad paint job. But when they got in and he started the motor, Colene recognized the sound of a racing machine. This thing could probably break speed records, if it had to.
They drove to a large shopping center. "We have a couple of hours to kill," Slick said. "The plane takes off after your date with the prof. This is a good place to hide, and we can change your outfits while we're at it."
So they went shopping for clothing. Slick and Provos posed as the elders, while Colene and Esta were the school-age girls. They wound up with matching dresses and shoes. Then Provos got a new outfit, a somewhat severe business suit. They had been transformed again.
They stopped for milkshakes, which Provos liked; she acted as if it were her first experience, and for her it was. Then they returned to the car. It was time for Colene's appointment with the professor.
Colene, nervous about what could go wrong, hardly noticed the university layout, despite the fact that she had once hoped to attend it herself. The University of Oklahoma was known as a football school, but this was the separate Science and Arts aspect, which was different. It was ironic that here she was, to see a professor, but she would never attend this school.
Soon they entered a building and found the
professor's chamber, which was a cozy den. There was a large aquarium by one wall, but it did not seem to have any fish in it. Colene had somehow expected a classroom, but of course this wasn't any regular class. The professor was Osborae Felix, and what he called recreational math was his hobby rather than his specialty. He made them comfortable in easy chairs, then focused on Colene.
"If you don't mind," he said to her, "please tell me how you came to be interested in fractals. This will help me to orient on your need." He was a man of middle age and receding hairline, but he did not wear glasses. Colene was trying to adjust her expectation; she had somehow imagined all professors with spectacles.
Colene shook her head. "You wouldn't believe it, Prof."
"Still, I would like to hear it."
"I've just come from a fractal universe," she said.
"Unsurprising. This is a fractal universe."
"Oh, you mean the way ferns form the patterns and all?"
"And all," he agreed. "We are constantly discovering new and subtle elements of our fractal existence, from the pattern of the distribution of galaxies in our universe to the phenomena of quantum mechanics. But I presume that is not what you have in mind."
He was patronizing her. That made Colene react. "For sure. I just came from a world which was shaped exactly like a Mandelbrot bug. I need to find out how to find the ninth of the ninth."
"You are referring to a model of the Mandelbrot set?"
"No, a world. The size of Earth. The rads are huge. And it's a satellite of a much bigger world, which is the satellite of a still bigger one, and so on, nine worlds back. And the stars give off light. The whole universe is one monstrous Mandelbrot set."
Professor Felix frowned. "I suspect we have a confusion about the nature of the Mandelbrot set."
"No, we don't," Colene said. "We just need to know how to number the rads."
Provos got up and walked to the aquarium. Felix glanced at her, surprised. "You have heard about my analogy?"
"No," Colene said. "Let's have it, if it helps the numbering."
The professor shrugged. "Perhaps it is best to begin at the beginning." He went to the aquarium and turned on a light. It sent a strong beam down through the water. Then he turned on a submerged water jet, and the water began to circulate. "Note the shadow pattern," he said.