Finally they slept, embraced. They woke holding hands, and slept again. It was an emulation of love for him, and true love for her. He regretted that differential, but he could not give her more. He loved Gale, and was captive of the Red Glamor; he was not free to love elsewhere. Perhaps it was parallel to the way Symbol had not been free to love King Deal. Symbol knew this and accepted it, and that would have to do.
Eventually they got up and dressed, rested. “Of course I'll pretend it's just sex, when we return,” she said. “That won't fool any of the mind readers, but it will do for strangers. Appreciation, Havoc, for allowing it."
"It is not what I expected."
"When has anything been what we expected?” She kissed him again, asking no more. That made it better; Symbol in love was lovable in a way she had not been before.
At last the roar of the inruption abated. The Black Chroma couple returned. “You are secure?” Trigue inquired.
"Secure,” Havoc agreed. “However, we—"
"Of course,” Intrigue said, feeling his spent genital. “Closer, but not yet."
"You're not annoyed that—"
"She can have anything she wants, except the one seed. I will take it when the time comes."
Havoc did not argue the case. The woman evidently knew what she was doing.
Their journey resumed. The landscape outside had changed, as the force of the inruption ripped trees and hills from their moorings and replaced them with others drawn in from farther out. But this made the center more accessible, and they reached it in a few hours.
The coordinates brought them to a depression with a door in the bottom. Everything permanent in the zone was below the surface. There was a ring-shaped tunnel that circled the central hole; this was as close to the inverted cone as it was possible to get without being lost in it.
At one point was an altar with buttons on it, similar to the one Havoc had found in the Blue Chroma zone. He checked, and found a small twisted object in the third pocket. “What is it?"
"A lemniscate,” Intrigue said.
"A Mobius Strip,” Symbol said. “A twisted tape that theoretically has only one side."
Havoc put it in his mouth. “Two to go,” he said.
"May we inquire your mission?” Trigue asked.
"Not if you desire a true answer,” Havoc said. “Be assured it means no mischief to you or your Chroma."
There was a rumble. Intrigue peeked out of the tunnel. “Not safe to depart. We must wait."
"We can wait on the other side,” Trigue said, glancing at Symbol. She smiled and accompanied him around the bend. She had by no means forgotten her role with him.
Havoc looked at Intrigue. She came to check his scrotum again. “Not yet,” she said.
"It needs to be before we depart this zone,” he said.
"Affirmation. Rest.” She settled down on the floor.
She remained somewhat of an enigma. He lay down beside her, and slept.
He woke when the rumbling stopped. It was time to move out. Intrigue was already on her feet and waiting by the door as Trigue and Symbol appeared.
They moved out. Again the outer landscape had changed, though not as much as before. Apparently inruptions were fairly frequent, and the natives simply waited them out. They still made Havoc nervous, but at least he and Symbol were now on their way out of this dread zone.
They were moving well, when another inruption threatened. “This is probably minor,” Trigue said. “But we had better be safe. Remain here until we verify the danger and the route.” He indicated another buried campsite.
They entered, while the two Black Chroma folk remained outside. The chamber was quite similar to the prior one. “Fancy meeting you here, stranger,” Symbol said. “Are you staying the night?"
"We don't know how long it will be."
"Agreement. Therefore let's not waste time.” She kissed him.
"Haven't you just recently been satisfied?"
"Plumbed, not satisfied. Only you can do that. But you may simply hold me close, if you do not wish to do more."
He held her close, but the contact was inherently seductive. “Do you wish more?"
"I want everything you care to offer."
She didn't want to ask for it, but she did want it. He yielded, and immediately they stripped and were in the throes of lovemaking. There was something about the knowledge that she truly loved him that stimulated him to more urgent desire.
Then, of course, he remembered. “Intrigue still hasn't taken her seed. I really should have waited."
"Too late, Havoc,” she said, smiling. “I just got the last of it."
Then their guides returned. “It is safe,” Trigue reported. “The way is clear, and no inruption at this time."
Havoc, embarrassed, sought to clothe himself, but Intrigue stepped in first, once again touching his genital. “It is time,” she said.
"Now?” Havoc asked. “I just—I can't oblige you right now."
Intrigue glanced at her husband. “Take her elsewhere for the moment."
Trigue beckoned Symbol, who was scrambling into her own clothing. They left the shelter.
"If I had known, I would have waited,” Havoc said awkwardly. “I do mean to honor my commitment to deliver your fourth. But—"
She ignored his protests. In a moment she was naked, and standing before him, beautifully black. Then she seemed to implode. Somehow he was brought to his feet and to her, his flaccid member drawn into her, involuntarily expanding. A single thrust, a single pulse, and he was jetting into her. Then, as quickly, it was done, and he was out of her and stepping away, dazed.
"Appreciation,” she said, stepping back into her clothing. “Now we must travel before the next inruption."
It seemed that was all there was to it. He had thought himself sexually exhausted, but she had taken the seed she wanted, and was done with him. Now he had a better understanding of what Symbol had described. These people did reflect their environment.
They left the shelter. Trigue and Symbol were there; she was somewhat mussed, and Havoc knew she had had implosive sex with the man. She was honoring their deal to keep him entertained, and was versatile enough to do it at any time. The fact that she loved Havoc did not handicap her sexual ability elsewhere.
"I have it,” Intrigue announced.
"Excellent,” Trigue said, not sounding entirely pleased. In that respect he was a typical man: glad to have relations with other women, but ambiguous about what other relations his wife might have.
"So you are finished with Hayseed?” Symbol asked, interested for her own reason.
"Yes. But you are not finished with Trigue. Keep him away from me."
"Away?"
"I need two days undisturbed for the seed to set. Thereafter I can handle him."
"I will serve the post,” Symbol said, bemused, as was Havoc. It seemed that reproduction was methodical in this Chroma, at least as far as the women were concerned, and distinguished from sexual expression.
In another hour they reached another ring of shelters. It was getting late. They had an evening meal, and settled down in separate chambers, Havoc with Intrigue, and Symbol with Trigue. Havoc knew Symbol would rather have been with him, but she was doing her part to fulfill their bargain with their guides.
"Question."
Intrigue glanced at him. “Affirmation. I tracked the seed as it advanced, and when it was ready, I summoned it. I will have a very fine son, in due course."
"In due course,” Havoc echoed.
"I did not want any baby not of Trigue, but the law of the fourth required it. Yet I confess I like this one. He will be my pride, a very fine specimen. What is your secret?"
This bypassed his comprehension. “Confusion."
"You are the smartest, handsomest, healthiest man I have encountered. Your woman is similar for her gender. I have little faith in coincidence. How came you two to be?"
Oh. “We are changelings. We are crafted to be superior representa
tives of our species. I do not know our origin, other than that it derives from the Temple."
"And this is your present quest,” she said, guessing accurately.
"Agreement. I am curious about my true origin."
"I wish you success, and not merely because I like you. I would like to know the grandsire of my son.” Then she kissed him without suction, and lay back to sleep.
The next day they resumed travel, and this time made it safely to the canal station. Symbol took Trigue aside one more time. She was completing her job: guaranteeing that the man would not have much of a hunger for sex for the rest of that day. This aspect, too, was new to Havoc's experience; he had not before heard of a wife requiring such a service of another woman. But it did make sense in this context.
They got into the craft and began the trip back. It had been an adventure in more than the travel sense.
"And it is not yet over,” Symbol murmured as they got up speed. “Trigue may be sexually exhausted, but I am not. That will be your challenge."
"Suppose I merely hold you and kiss you and whisper sweet ciphers in your ear?"
"That will do, if you can convince me you mean it."
"There is always a catch,” he grumbled. Then they both laughed.
"It was almost like old times,” Symbol remarked somewhat later. It was warm, and she had removed her jacket and halter, so that her swathed head seemed to float above her empty skirt.
"Surprise: with King Deal?"
"Yes. When the Lady Aspect asked me to distract him so that she could bear her children in peace."
Havoc had not thought of that. He had considered a mistress to be a function of a man's desire for more varied sex, and surely she was that. But now he appreciated that she served the wife as well as the husband. Not all of a man's escapades were necessarily his own idea. “He did not suspect?"
"Oh, he knew. But he loved his wife, so he let me divert him. I did my best. And of course he had chosen me because my body pleased him, and so did my mind."
"And if I could marry Gale, you could do the same for her."
"Perhaps. To a degree."
"Question?"
"Havoc, I have been denied marriage and family these twelve years. Originally I disparaged those, but now I crave both. Only my inconvenient love for you prevents me from retiring as anyone's mistress and finding some nice dull ordinary man to marry and provide with three or four children. By your leave I will soon do that anyway. I could still serve as your mistress, and would gladly do that. But I would on occasion be with child. You would need another mistress then."
This was another insight. “You have my leave, of course. You could have your fourth by me."
"I want it! But there are two buzzes in that face cream: you can't marry Gale, and you must not sire a child by another changeling."
"Expletive! But I could still have you as my mistress when you are not with child."
She faced him seriously. “Havoc, I would gladly serve. But you would have Gale as your mistress. Therein lies my loss."
"Confusion.” She had shown him how he could after all have Gale, and how imperfect it would be. He could neither marry her nor sire children by her. He could only love her—just as Symbol could only love him. Now he felt Symbol's pain for himself. Tears were stinging his eyes.
"Life is cruel,” she murmured, bringing his head in to her comforting invisible bare bosom. This, too, was a function of a mistress he had not before appreciated. “But Bijou is worthy of marriage."
Indeed she was, and she loved him too. She had held him similarly. She was not a changeling, so could safely bear his children. “It fits together so nicely, but leaves me married to a worthy woman I do not love, making a mistress of the one I do love, and cutting you off from that aspect of your love I could otherwise oblige. Is this what it means to be king?"
"Affirmation, Havoc,” she said, stroking his hair.
"Frustration,” he said into her full right breast.
"Empathy.” She hugged him closer. “Adoration."
"Appreciation."
"Appreciation for letting me love you."
And love was the problem throughout. Would this mission provide a satisfactory answer? One that would allow him to marry Gale and give Symbol her fourth? He had no certainty of that, but it was his best hope.
There was a shimmer. “Come in, Swale,” Symbol murmured, not releasing Havoc.
Havoc felt the change as the succubus took over. “So she succeeded,” Symbol's mouth said.
"She yielded, and I yielded,” Havoc said. “Now it is true; she is my mistress."
"And I missed it! Why didn't you summon me for the event?"
"I didn't realize it was happening. How is Gale?"
"I'm on my way there. May I tell her this news?"
"Tell her I got my object, and Symbol got me. But if there turns out to be any way I can have Gale—"
"Understood. Symbol, can I have a shot at him? There's no one I'd rather—” She paused, evidently receiving Symbol's negation. “Oh, well. Some other time. Congratulations."
"Parting,” Havoc said.
"Gone.” And she was.
"Should I have let her?” Symbol asked.
"No. While you are my mistress, I am faithful to you, as is feasible."
She hugged him closer. “Oh, Havoc!” Her tears flowed.
Thus held, he drifted to sleep.
"Havoc."
He woke, his face still supported by the unseen pillow of her bosom. He remembered again how Bijou had held him that way; it seemed to be a woman thing, just as it was a man thing to like it. “Question?"
"We approach a station, and there seem to be people there."
Oh. There was no need to advertise her invisibility or their relationship. He sat up, and she re-garbed her upper portion. By the time they reached the station, they were both in good order.
An old man and a young girl stood there. “Shades of prophecy!” Havoc whispered. “The drummer and the dancer."
But it turned out to be more mundane. “We need a lift to the next station,” the old man said. “We lack fair exchange."
That explained why they hadn't gone before. “Ride with us, no fault,” Havoc said generously.
"Appreciation.” The two followed as Havoc pushed the craft along the canal between Chroma zones.
As they rode along the renewed ice, the likeness of prophecy quickly dissipated. The two were indeed grandfather and granddaughter, but the man was a garrulous bore and the girl an impertinent snipe. They were villagers with little interest in the arts. Both stank of dirt and sweat. He scratched and belched frequently and she squirmed and farted without concern. It reminded Havoc of himself and Gale before they came to Triumph City and learned the affectations of civilization. Havoc had been bemused by all the unnatural restrictions “polite” society imposed, but now he realized that the new habits had become part of him.
He could not return to Trifle Village, with or without Gale. He was no longer of the backwoods culture. He had been spoiled by civilization. It would be similar with Gale. It was not the trappings of power that had corrupted him, for he had hardly indulged in them; it was those of the artificial city culture.
They came to the next station, and man and child departed with thanks. Havoc was relieved.
"No drummer, no dancer,” Symbol said. “Yet they remind me oddly of someone."
"Of me, when I came to Triumph City,” he said.
"Chagrin!” She blushed. It was not visible on her swathed face, but he felt it in her mind. “Apology."
Havoc laughed. “Needless. You tamed me, you civilized me. Now I am of your culture. I was as dismayed by their manners as you were. Now I prefer the illusion of courtly drummer and dancer and no fault love to the reality of hick barbarism."
"Yet it was your barbarian drive that captivated me."
"Argument. It was my changeling nature that captivated you, just as was the case with King Deal. We changelings are drawn to ea
ch other, whatever our cultures or Chroma."
"Defeat,” she agreed. “Oh, Havoc—"
He took her in his arms. “I am Beau Drummer. You are Eve Dancer. We are traveling no fault."
"Delight!"
And so it was. He had accused her of trying to seduce him obliquely with that sub-theme in the illusion show; she had been innocent of that, but now it was a comfortable analogy. The story match in ages was good, the match in feelings reversed, but still applicable. One liked, the other loved, and they both knew it and accepted it; this was in part what no fault was for. They made most passionate love, as the craft sailed on along the frozen canal.
Chapter 6—Trial
Gale walked with Throe to the ferry. “No fault?"
"No offense."
"None!” she agreed, relieved. She knew his problem: he loved Ennui, and did not want to have sexual relations with a friend of hers. Neither did Gale. “But it may be necessary with strangers."
"I don't care about strangers."
Again, she understood. No fault allowed strangers to return to that condition after the association was done. People who knew each other and worked together did not have that option, so sexual interaction was more complicated. It could be done, but needed to be more carefully considered.
Still, she teased him. “Those Air Chroma maidens—you evidently had a time."
"And you want to know all about it."
"I'm a woman."
"That's what they said.” Then he glanced obliquely at her. “There is something that may be relevant."
"Interest."
"The fourth Air Chroma sister is a changeling. She can see reality through illusion. It occurs to me that this could be a changeling ability."
"Now that is interesting. I never had experience with much illusion until I left Trifle Village, and never thought to try to see through it. Is this confined to Air Chroma illusion, or does it apply to any illusion?"
"Ignorance. Conjecture: if it is general to changelings, it is general to illusion."
"I must try it as soon as convenient."
They walked to the fringe of the neighboring Blue Chroma zone, as this was in line with the coordinates. “How do we purchase passage?” Throe asked.