Lucent went to her immediately. “Heat prostration,” she said. “She needs cold compresses."
"I have them.” Track opened a panel and brought out damp wads of cloth. Lucent and Clean put them on Stevia's head and body, cooling her as rapidly as they could.
"A remarkable woman,” Ine repeated.
"Agreement,” Track said, as he started the vehicle moving again.
The underwater scenery continued interesting, but Havoc was distracted. Stevia was indeed remarkable, and this bothered him, because she had been randomly chosen. He had taken the first person willing to travel with him, and she had not made any pretense to anything special, yet somehow she had evinced qualities of character and talent beyond the ordinary, and was a genuine asset to the mission. Was this phenomenal luck on his part, or something else? Havoc did not trust unduly to luck.
But as he pondered, he remembered that the Red Glamor had told him how to choose his companion. Could she have known that he would encounter Stevia? Or, more likely, had she sent Stevia to him, knowing her qualities? That should have been within Red's power.
"Havoc,” Ine murmured, bringing him out of his reverie. “I think she's ready to come back now."
He saw that the gray woman was. She was sitting up and smiling as she resumed her clothing. “Appreciation,” she said. “Perhaps I got hotter than I realized."
"You could have died!” Havoc said, making his way forward. He put his hands under her shoulders and knees, picked her up, and carried her carefully back to her place.
"Apology for causing you distress."
"Chastise her,” Ine suggested with a wink that barely showed through her veil.
Havoc nodded. “Here is your punishment: two lashes.” He kissed her on the right eye, and then the left.
Stevia dissolved into laughter. “Eye lashes! Punish me some more."
He kissed her on the mouth. Then the tractor lurched, heaving them to one side, and they had to grab for their respective handholds.
"He'll spank you tonight,” Ine said. “Bare."
"Anything but that!"
These women were getting along entirely too well.
Havoc stared out the port, making a show of ignoring them. But the fact was that Stevia had indeed done a brave, painful, and necessary thing, and deserved reward. He had little to give her except his attention. He would do that.
"Petrified forest,” Track called back. “Suggesting that this was once land rather than lake."
Outside was a forest of white pillars rising to various heights in the hot water: the ancient trunks of once-living trees. He knew that geography was constantly changing on Planet Charm, which was why there were no permanent maps. But this was impressive regardless. These had been growing on a plain or perhaps even a mountain, and now had sunk below the water. Would they rise again some day?
"Hold on,” Track called. “We're going into the hole."
The tractor lurched, nosing down. This was some deep pit within the lake, yet no ordinary hole. The slope most resembled a cut section of a layer cake, except that the layers were different complexions of white stone. So not only must this have been above water in the past, it must have been cloven to reveal its layers. Was this another weird White magic effect?
"White cliffs of Dover,” Track said.
The approached a sheer white wall that seemed to rise right out of the lake. They turned and moved along the base. Then there came an upward slope. Havoc was glad to be heading out of the lake at last.
White tentacles appeared, wrapping around the tractor, brushing across the ports. The occupants shrank back. Then a giant eye appeared. Gale screamed. She too was nervous in this alien environment.
"My other squid,” Track announced. “The big one. Friendly, fortunately. She just likes to look."
Havoc tried to gauge the size of the creature. He could not see the whole of it, and the thickness of each tentacle varied with its distance from the central body. But it seemed big enough to pick up the tractor if it wanted to.
"I bring her tidbits from above, when I can,” Track said. “She knows me. But it might be hard for a stranger to pass this way."
Havoc was sure it would be. There were probably other large creatures down here—and in other large lakes, beyond the marked safe zones.
The tentacles slid off, and the tractor left the huge mollusk behind. Havoc saw that it glowed.
At last the tractor climbed out of the lake. It rolled to a stop. Track opened the front port and went out first. “Got to check that cleat."
They followed him out, much relieved to be back on real land. Havoc was the last, so was behind the group and couldn't get a distinct mental reading on the man, but he looked confused.
"It's fixed, all right,” Track said. “But I don't see how. This looks as if it was never broken, but I know it was."
"It was just out of place,” Stevia said. “I nudged it back where I thought it belonged."
"It was broken,” Track insisted. “I know by how it stalled the whole track. You couldn't have replaced it whole."
"I was rather hot, and distracted,” Stevia said. “But I think it was just dislodged."
The White Chroma man stared at her a moment, then shook his head. Obviously the cleat was not broken, and had been put back into place. Stevia was correct.
But Havoc wondered. Track surely knew his machine. If he had thought the cleat was broken, he was unlikely to have been mistaken. But that meant that Stevia had done more than merely replace it. Her magic was to null other magic; how could she have nulled a physical break? It didn't seem to make sense.
"Better check it out anyway,” Track decided. Then, to the others: “I'll take you on into the village. It's on your way."
Havoc agreed; it was getting late anyway. He continued to brood on the episode of the cleat. Something was missing, and he didn't like that.
They got back into the tractor and rode to the White Village at the edge of the lake.
The White villagers came out to meet Track. “Give these folk lodging for the night,” he said grandly. “They saved me from getting fried under the lake."
"You know we don't give free lodging,” the man who was evidently the village elder said.
"We're a troupe,” Havoc said. “We'll entertain you."
"Say—” Track began.
"Same number as before,” Havoc agreed, smiling.
So they sang “Oh, No Track” again, with Track and Clean participating, and the villagers were thrilled. Hardly more so than Track and Clean, however. They had become actors before a hometown audience.
They walked on toward the village lodgings. Gale meandered close to him for a moment. “That cleat was broken,” she murmured, and moved away.
So she had felt it too. He glanced at Stevia—and found her watching him. “Who are you?” he asked her.
"Just a girl who likes adventure."
"By doing magic in a science zone? That's not Gray."
"But I do want to help you."
"You can help me best by telling me who you are."
"It is not time."
She was being evasive. There was no further chance to talk, as the villagers got them settled in, and brought them good white food. But later Havoc joined Stevia in their cabin, while Ine was washing elsewhere.
"You have been thinking too much,” she said, her hair flowing across her face.
He hit her with it: “You're the Red Glamor in disguise!"
"I could make you forget,” she murmured. Now her face showed red through the veil of hair.
"Why?” he demanded. “Why come to me like this, anonymously, when you could have taken me at any time?"
"You asked me not to take you,” she reminded him. “And it was not time. So I had to protect you in another manner."
"And take me without my knowing."
"It was the only way I could, without taking too much of you. And to ensure that your mission succeeded."
"It hasn't succeeded yet."
"So I must protect you longer.” She gazed at him through the shimmer, her red face ethereally lovely behind the veil, framed by her gray head. “So you must forget."
"I will figure it out again."
"I can make you forget again."
Surely she could. “I would not be fully myself."
She nodded. “True. So you must pretend to forget, until it is time."
Havoc realized that he was facing a power that could readily destroy him if he forced the issue. She was offering him a compromise, and it would be best to take it. “How can I do that?"
"Make me an oath of forgetting."
He paused. He had made oaths of friendship on rare occasions, and never dishonored them. He had never heard of an oath of forgetting, but it should be possible.
"Bury it in your mind, along with your other secret thoughts,” she said. “Treat me exactly as before."
"But we had sex!” he protested. “Next time I'll know."
"And the knowledge would destroy your independence,” she agreed. “You would love me, forsaking all others—and I can't stay with you. It is no fault for me, but could not be for you. That aspect must cease."
Havoc wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. “How do we explain that?"
"I will defer to Ine, indisposed."
That did seem best. “How long before it is time?” He wasn't sure what the significance of that time was, but was sure it was important.
"Not long,” she said.
Then Ine arrived from her bath, in the form of a floating towel forming a loop at waist level. “Your turn,” she said to Stevia. She seemed to look at Havoc. “Or my turn."
"Your turn,” Stevia agreed, departing.
Ine embraced him. He could see right down through the looped towel to the floor. “Did she seduce you?"
"Not exactly. She had something else on her mind, I think.” As did he.
"Then I will.” The towel unwrapped and flung itself aside. “I am nice and clean and warm at the moment."
Havoc was glad to let her continue. But his private thoughts were on the Red Glamor. Suddenly several obscure things made sense—including the way she had fixed the cleat. As a Glamor she had the power to do so, even here in the White Chroma zone. That had really given him the hint.
But how could his mission to discover the origin of the Changelings be so important that a Glamor felt the need to participate full time? There had to be more to it than he knew.
"Do I have your full attention?” Ine inquired. They were naked on the bed, but he had hardly been conscious of her ministrations.
"Apology. I seem to be distracted."
"What did Stevia say to you?"
"I forget."
"I doubt it. She put you into a daze—without even seducing you? This must be something I should know."
This was becoming impractical. “She told me something, and required me to make her an oath of forgetting. That is all I can say, and I ask you to accept it."
"And so I must, thus phrased. You must punish me for asking.” He felt her flop over on the bed. “Spank me."
"Negation. The apology is mine, for failing to respond to you."
"Spank me anyway.” She caught his right hand and directed it to her bottom. “There."
He curled his fingers around a full buttock. It was marvelously evocative, as she knew. “This is not my way with women."
She was silent a moment, surely gazing at him. “You're a changeling,” she said suddenly.
"I am.” Was she merely changing the subject?
"My little sister Ino is a changeling. She took my love Jamais Vu from me, but I forgive her because I love her. There is something about changelings."
"So it seems,” he agreed, bemused.
"She can see reality through illusion. So can Gale. Perhaps you can too. Look at me."
"I don't understand."
"Then read my mind."
He did so, and caught a blast of passion. She wanted his complete attention, and believed that sex was the way to get it. His desire surged, echoing hers; he would have had to shut down his mind to avoid it.
He sought to embrace her, but she resisted, refusing to change her position. “Look at me,” she repeated. “See if you can see me."
"You really think I can?"
"Affirmation.” She sent another wave of desire at him. “See me first."
Desire made him try. Then, faintly, he saw the outline of her body, prone on the bed. Head angled to face him, one breast partly showing, buttocks rising, legs stretched out. “I see you!” he said, amazed.
"Do you? Prove it. Turn away from me, then back."
He did so. When he turned back, she had reversed herself on the bed, her head where her feet had been. “Naughty ploy,” he said, gazing directly into her faint eyes as he patted her bottom.
"Are you tracking me by my mind?"
"Yes, but I can see you too.” He stroked a buttock with a fingernail, tickling her.
"Don't tickle it, spank it!” she exclaimed, laughing.
"You have a thing about spanking?"
"Affirmation! And that's only the beginning. Do it."
He spanked her, not hard. Her bottom quivered, and her mind sent another ripple of passion at him. She was right: it was phenomenally conducive. Maybe not the flesh so much as her reaction to the contact, which was returning to him via her mind. He spanked harder, and received a stronger jolt. Curious, he spanked hard enough to sting—and felt an almost painful wash of desire.
"I can't stand it,” she said. She scrambled up and around, pushed him flat on the bed face up, climbed on him, and straddled him. “Keep spanking,” she said as she flattened her breasts against him.
He spanked with both hands while she used hers to lodge him in her. She was hot and wet and tight, clasping his member internally. Her flesh quivered against his with each contact, alternating tensing and relaxing, enhancing the effect. In a moment he was jetting within her, guided as much by her bouncing as his own effort. He wasn't sure whether it was the mental portion of her passion, or her unusual way of indulging in sex, but it was a remarkably strong climax. Her own was right with him, in synch. She had her own sexual agenda, and it was effective. As Throe had warned.
"So I finally got your attention,” she murmured as they subsided.
"Affirmation. And you taught me something."
"That you can penetrate illusion."
"That too,” he agreed, knowing it was a pun. Her invisibility was a form of illusion, and he had penetrated both that and her body. There was a small splash of translucence showing within her outline: his recent contribution, already fading as her ambiance governed it.
"And you need make me no oath of forgetting. I want you to remember this."
"I will remember,” he agreed. His hands were still on her bottom, which pulsed rhythmically, echoing internally. That, too, was an interesting effect. He was done, but the aftermath was about as pleasant as he could remember.
She was satisfied, but remained on him for a while longer, savoring the contact. She was one woman, it seemed, who really did savor sexual experience for its own sake, extending it so as to get all it had to offer.
Stevia returned. “What have you two been up to?” she inquired.
"Token sadomasochism,” Ine answered, clenching around Havoc again. “He's a beast."
"So I see. Your rear is glowing."
"Wonderfully!"
Gray Chroma folk could null other magic—but did that include seeing through illusion? That bottom was supposed to be invisible. Or was that the Red Glamor's ability? If so, was Stevia giving herself away? Then why wasn't Ine reacting to that? Havoc kept his thoughts masked, concluding that Ine knew more than she pretended, and that he had not yet fathomed the whole of what was going on here. These two women got along remarkably well together, and that was surprising, considering that one of them was a masked Glamor. But he had no doubt of Ine's passion, and it was pleasant enough.
It was his turn to clean up. When he returned, both women were sleeping, with space for him between them. He took it, and slept himself. There remained mysteries to fathom, but his dragon seed had never buzzed; these women meant him no harm.
Naturally they did not let him get up in the morning without more interaction. Ine lay on her side and had him clasp her from behind, while Stevia clasped him from behind. He felt Ine's bottom in front, and Stevia's breasts behind. In fact he had a hand on a breast, while a breast touched his back. He was folded around Ine's bent body, with her buttocks twitching to make him constantly aware of them, while Stevia was folded around his own bent body, her breasts pressing harder with her breathing. He felt Ine climax, and that set off his own, and then Stevia's, though she was merely adjacent. It made for an odd impression. They were still sharing him, in their fashion. They must have talked, because Ine never questioned her right to sole sexual access to him. What had Stevia told her? And what was Stevia's real sexuality? He doubted it could be entirely vicarious. In fact he doubted that either woman could be as strongly sexual as she seemed to be.
As he pondered it, he concluded that they were trying to distract him from something else. It couldn't be the realization that Stevia was the Red Glamor, because he had already gotten there. What else was waiting for his discovery?
Ine finally disengaged after a concluding internal caress. “Until tonight,” she said. “Then we'll try something more imaginative."
He laughed, but he suspected she wasn't joking. She had horizons he scarcely imagined. Were all Air Chroma women like this? He had thought Symbol to be exceptional, but Ine was more so.
And of course Symbol was there as they emerged from the cabin. “I can do sado-maso too,” she murmured when they were for a moment apart from the others.
"Gale was peeking and telling!” he exclaimed ruefully.
"What else? Not enough men on this mission, and the other one's taken."
She had a point. “There'll be another time,” he promised.
In due course they resumed their trek. As chance would have it, the next Chroma zone was Air. Symbol and Ine stripped and disappeared into it, blissfully restoring their substance. Havoc focused, and was able to see them both. Both turned and made highly suggestive gestures at him, having a fine time.