Page 45 of Key to Chroma


  "I wonder whether Air Chroma folk do that to all visitors?” Gale remarked, coming to walk beside him.

  "Why not? It must be fun. But let's pretend we remain ignorant."

  "Maybe they don't,” she said. “Because Air Chroma folk can't even see each other unless they put on illusion. Maybe they're whispering to each other what to do, so they can coordinate. Throe told me that Ine's friend Jamais is unusual because he can see through illusion."

  "Is he a changeling?"

  "I don't believe so."

  "So some who aren't changelings can do it too,” Havoc said. “If my understanding is correct. I'm not sure it is."

  "I have my own doubts,” Gale said. “The way Stevia fixed that cleat—that's another oddity."

  And he couldn't tell her. “Another oddity,” he agreed.

  "This whole mission to collect seven ikons mystifies me. What use are they? Apart from their enormous magic."

  "The Red Glamor told me to fetch them. I believe she had reason. I wish I knew what it is."

  "I wonder whether we are too trusting."

  "We may be,” he agreed.

  Then their path brought them back into contact with Dour and Lucent, and they let it be. But Havoc trusted Gale's judgment, as he trusted his own. There was too much they did not know.

  They reached the fringe staging area for the zone. It was neatly set up with illusion houses that probably matched the real ones that were invisible. Yes—Havoc's new eye saw that they did, except that the real ones were not nearly as pretty. Why bother, when they could not be seen directly, and the illusion made them whatever was desirable?

  Ine and Symbol returned to the group, donning complete coverings. Evidently their nudity was not intended for more general consumption.

  An attractive woman came out to meet them. Havoc remembered the adage: there were no unattractive Air Chroma women, since they all clothed themselves with illusion. Indeed, as he focused he saw that this one was about twenty years older than she appeared, and would not have been pretty even in her youth. “Greeting, travelers."

  "Acknowledged,” Havoc replied. “Introduction: I am Hayseed."

  "I am Delight.” Like many Air Chroma women, she had a suggestive name. And who was to say she was not what she claimed to be? Since the Air folk could not see through their own illusions, only careful touching would reveal her homely facial features, and she surely would avoid anything in that region other than the pressure of lips on lips. So a woman was likely as pretty as she seemed to be, and there was no reason to fault her for the effort.

  "We are a troupe of seven, prepared to entertain for transport across your zone. Can we deal?"

  Delight considered. “We have had entertainment enough; another troupe passed this way not long ago.” She glanced at Dour and Lucent. “But we may have interest in a cartographer, and an Amazon."

  "Any members of our troupe will cooperate, for the sake of passage for all,” Havoc said. “What is your interest?"

  "We have had skirmishes with a neighboring zone. In fact they have raided us for women. They seem to find our invisibility intriguing. We are embarking on a program of self defense, but lack sufficient instructors to do this as rapidly as we would like."

  "We can provide three,” Havoc said.

  "That will do. We will assemble a class."

  "Self defense has many aspects. It will help if we know what the typical occurrence is."

  "There are gathering places between Chroma where young folk from two or more zones can congregate. Normally there is no problem, but on occasion a man will lay hands on a girl and take by force what she might have given willingly, in a more social situation. He may then carry her into his Chroma zone, where her magic is gone, and keep her as a slave. We have made complaints, but the other Chroma authorities pretend that any such liaisons are voluntary."

  "So if the girl avoids the first grab, and gets away, she will probably be safe,” Havoc said.

  "She will certainly be safe; an otherChroma man who pursued her into Air would lose his magic, and soon be at her mercy. The problem is between Chroma."

  "We shall address that problem,” Havoc said.

  "Older folk are wary, as they are of sexual demons,” Desire said. “But the young ones think the danger is exaggerated, and don't take it seriously."

  Havoc looked her in the veil. “We can make them take it seriously—if this is what you wish."

  She nodded grimly. “It is our wish."

  Havoc consulted with the others while they waited for the class. “We have three instructors for personal defense,” he said. “The others can be demonstration models. We can form brief playlets. One of them will be a shocker."

  They worked it out, rehearsing just enough to avoid miscues. By the time the audience assembled, they were ready to perform.

  All of the members of the audience were lovely young women. Havoc realized that illusion made them so, but it was impressive nonetheless. They were serious about protecting themselves.

  He strode to the center of the circle. “Greeting,” he said.

  "Acknowledged,” they chorused in response.

  "I am the Minstrel Hayseed. I am also a martial artist.” As he spoke, Dour came up behind him, lifting his staff menacingly. Just as the staff seemed about to strike, Havoc whirled, grabbed it, and levered the cartographer over his hip so that he landed flat on the ground. It was of course a standard device, with the “victim” likely as skilled as the martial artist, but always impressive. The maidens were suitably impressed.

  "And so is he,” Havoc continued as Dour slowly got back to his feet. “Cartographers travel widely, and may encounter brigands, so they know self defense.” Then, suddenly, he whirled, whipping out a short club, and brought it forcefully down on Dour's head. But of course Dour was already moving. He dodged out of the way, caught Havoc's arm, and twisted him to the ground. The man was shy onstage, but could handle this sort of non-speaking part. The maidens were impressed anew.

  Havoc got back to his feet. “And of course you know the reputation of the Amazons.” Both he and Dour advanced on Lucent, who was innocently chewing on a bun she had brought from the White Chroma zone. Havoc came at her from the front, Dour from the rear, obviously intent on capturing her for some nefarious purpose.

  But as their arms grabbed at her from either side, Lucent whirled and ducked. Her hand shot out to strike Dour's face while her foot shot out opposite to score on Havoc's crotch. Both men grunted convincingly and sat down. Havoc was grabbing his crotch in simulated pain, and Dour was staring around the bun, which had been jammed into his mouth. The maidens applauded as they laughed.

  Havoc got up again. “Now you know we didn't really hurt each other, because we are friends. She didn't score on me, and she actually likes him.” Lucent leaned down and kissed Dour on the forehead. There was more laughter. “And of course for any of you, it will be serious, and you will not want to miss a crotch or jam anything as gentle as a bun into a man's face.” He paused as if undecided, then turned to Lucent. “What should you jab?"

  The Amazon smiled. She lifted a hand to her head and drew a wicked looking pin from her hair. It was twice the length of a finger, and had a stout bulb at the near end. The maidens looked dismayed.

  Havoc picked up on it. “Now consider carefully,” he said. “Here you are, an innocent maiden, visiting a betweenChroma spot, and a man grabs you.” Now Gale walked out innocently, looking utterly beautiful, and Dour grabbed her. They stopped right there, frozen tableau, as Havoc continued. “You have choices: you can scream, which may bring other men to help subdue you, because this is a hostile situation. You may struggle ineffectively as he drags you away and rapes you. Or you may fight back, escape, and get safely home.” He turned in a full circle, gazing at them all. “You may do what you wish, but we are here to show you how to do the last.” He faced the tableau. “Fight,” he said.

  Gail's hand snapped up to her head. She drew a pin and jabbed it at Dour's face.
He jerked his head back, avoiding it—and she stomped on his exposed foot. Then she twisted out of his slackening grip and ran off the stage.

  "Here are the elements,” Havoc said. “First be armed. She had that pin ready, in case she needed it. All of you should get something similar.” Gale returned to the stage, making a grand gesture of setting the pin into her hair, out of sight. “Second, be alert. She knew she was in a nonAir region, so her magic was gone, and that a man was approaching her. Because he might be friendly, she did not act suspicious, but she was aware.” Gale stood as Dour approached her again, but this time made it plain to the audience that she was watching him. “Third, act swiftly and surprisingly.” As Dour grabbed, Gale's hand was already moving to her head. “We will do this slowly, so you can follow,” Havoc said. Gale drew out the pin and slowly pushed it at Dour's face. He slowly drew his head back. She slowly stomped his foot.

  "Then flee,” Havoc said. “Strip your clothing as you go. Toss it anywhere. The point is to get invisible in a hurry. Then they won't catch you."

  Symbol walked onstage. “Again, fast motion,” Havoc said. “I am a marauder, and there is an innocent Air maiden. I'm going to grab her and beat her until she agrees to become my slave.” He strode toward the woman, reaching out to grab her arm. She whirled, struck at his face, and wrenched away. He grabbed again, but she was already throwing off her cloak. He grabbed it, but she was invisible and gone. He threw it to the ground in a fine fit of rage.

  The maidens were surprised. They had not realized that any members of the troupe were Air Chroma. They were suitably impressed, as this was realistic in their terms. But they still seemed to be regarding this more as entertainment than as defense. They were not taking it seriously enough. It was time for the shocker.

  "Once more,” Havoc said. “This time to demonstrate the consequence if you don't take it seriously."

  Ine walked by, swathed in cloak and veil. Havoc grabbed her. She drew her pin but hesitated to use it. He saw it and struck it from her hand. Then he threw her to the ground and ripped open her cloak. She screamed piercingly. He punched her in the face, making her cry. Then he raped her as she flailed ineffectively with wrapped arms and legs. It was most realistic. Actually he had pulled his punch, but Ine had insisted that the sex itself be real; rape was one of her fantasies, and open humiliation another. It was not a thing Havoc would have cared to do, even in simulation, and had not planned to do literally, but her mind was blasting passion at him, and he was drawn into it. Indeed, her seemingly aimless struggles were not; she was drawing him into her, getting clothing clear, pursuing the connection. The worst of it was that she was making him respond, her way. For the moment, he had an irresistible need to drive deep into her, the motions of her struggling body enhancing the effect. She massaged him, inside, forcing the issue. In an instant he jetted, and felt her response. She was fulfilled by the violence as much as the sex itself. And by the presence of the audience; she wanted public ravishing.

  When he finished his half-involuntary act, he got up, leaving Ine half invisible, a sprawled figure sobbing faintly. There was no laugher or applause. The maidens were staring, appalled. It had become too real.

  Then Havoc reverted to normal. “This was of course a drama,” he said. “I would never do such a thing, and she is pretending too.” He glanced at Ine, who got quickly to her feet and closed her cloak, all tears gone. Indeed, he had not violated her will; he had done nothing she had not wanted. That might however be tricky to explain to others. That girl was something else. “But if it happened to any of you, it would be real. So don't hold back; strike, strip, and flee. Keep this image in mind; this is what you face if you don't act effectively.” He struck at Ine again, and she rocked with the blow and fell to the ground.

  Gradually they relaxed, satisfied that it had after all been a simulation despite its savage realism. But there was a shaken quality to their reversion. They would not forget.

  "Now we will do it with you, individually,” Havoc said. “With illusion pins, so you don't really hurt us. You must score on the face. We will relax or let go, and you will get free and flee. If you are ineffective, we will hold you and kiss you. A kiss is a loss, and you will have to run through it again. Every one of you must get safely away before this session is done.” He glanced at Dour and Lucent. “Normally an Amazon is not going to rape you, but you still don't want her to kiss you. Treat her as you would an attacking man; she is just as dangerous."

  Then they went into the individual exercises. Havoc gestured to a maiden, had her walk by him, be grabbed, stab his face with her illusion pin, tear free, strip and disappear. She had passed. Dour did the same elsewhere on the stage, and Lucent too.

  The third maiden was slow, and Havoc wrapped her up and kissed her. She was a delectable morsel. He had her run through it again, and this time she was effective, but when she threw off her clothing her bare body was fully visible. She had emulated herself in illusion. “Oops,” she said, and faded.

  Havoc had to smile. He knew from her mind that she had made both mistakes deliberately, because she wanted to be kissed, and to show off her body. But she had learned the technique, and that was what counted.

  When all were done, the lesson ended. The Air authorities were quite satisfied. “That is the most effective demonstration I have seen,” Delight said. “I could have sworn that rape was real."

  "We try to be realistic, when necessary,” Havoc said. “Your girls face a real danger, and we hope this enables them to handle it. Of course they should normally remain in the Air zone, or leave it with company, so as not to be vulnerable."

  "Your transport is available. If you should pass this way again—"

  "We'll give another lesson,” he agreed. “There are of course other defensive techniques, but they require more training. You should encourage your girls to undertake such training with Air instructors."

  "There's a long waiting list. As there would be for you, were you to remain here."

  "That is not feasible. It would also be dangerous."

  "Question?"

  "One of your maidens deliberately missed with the pin, to get a kiss. Then she flashed me with her body. She had a very good body. I would not care to be subjected to such temptation on a regular basis; it would complicate my relations with my fiancée."

  Delight nodded. “That would be Desire; she has unusual aptitude and drive, and will soon make some deserving man quite fortunate. She may be our prettiest maiden, and knows it. Therein can be mischief. You are handsome, with a fine stage presence; others would indeed try to tempt you. But there would not be that danger for the Cartographer or the Amazon."

  Havoc shrugged. “When this tour is done, if they wish to return here, I would not oppose it. But I suspect they have other plans.” Indeed, it looked as though Dour and Lucent would soon marry. Later-life relationships could be good, as Throe and Ennui showed.

  They entered the illusion-highlighted capsule, where other maidens served them a fine meal as they floated across the zone. The zones could be quite hospitable when pleased.

  Havoc spied an invisible girl. He checked her mind, and verified that she had sneaked aboard. He beckoned to her.

  She straightened up, surprised, uncertain whether he was truly aware of her.

  "Yes, I see you, Desire,” he murmured. “Come sit by me and we'll talk. You are a fourth."

  She came to him. “How do you know that?"

  "Because all changelings are fourths, and you are a changeling. So am I. Changelings are attracted to each other, which is why you hover near me. We have more powers than we know. Such as the ability to penetrate illusion. You can do it too, if you try."

  "I have tried, and done it,” she said. “But never told anyone. I fear it would mark me."

  "It might. But also open a new horizon to you. Talk with my fiancée.” He caught Gale's eye, and she came to join him. “Tell Desire about changelings,” he said. She's one.

  Gale looked, and spotted
the girl. She nodded. “Greeting, Desire. I am Gale. We can do some things. Such as healing. You will want to learn."

  Desire stared at her, astonished. “You're another!"

  "And so is Symbol, and she's of your Chroma. We have much common ground. We'll be moving on, but you will want to continue exploring. Perhaps you will discover something we don't yet know."

  Havoc let himself fade out of it as Gale talked to the girl, and introduced her to Symbol. They were encountering more changelings, but perhaps that was not surprising. There seemed to be many changelings, there to be recognized by those alert for them. They tended to be the most comely, intelligent, and motivated people, so were likely to appear where important things were happening. They did tend to draw toward each other, which accounted for his own relations with Gale and Symbol, and Desire's evident hankering for him, as he had told her. Perhaps that was all there was to it.

  It was perhaps coincidental that during this quest for the origin of the changelings, they were learning more about them. The Red Glamor had sent him and his associates on what might have seemed like a fool's errand, but that seemed much less likely now that he knew she was along. She—and presumably other Glamors—was taking this seriously. He wanted to know about the changelings because he was one, and he hoped for some avenue of discovery that would enable him to marry Gale. But why were the Glamors interested? That suggested that the matter had more significance than he had realized.

  At any rate, they would soon know, because he was now in quest of the last of the seven ikons. Whatever their purpose, it should bring the quest to a conclusion.

  They landed at the far side of the zone, and disembarked with full bellies and rested legs. Desire departed; she had never become visible, so others did not know of their dialogue with her, which was perhaps just as well. Meeting her had been a small bonus on this hop.

  The next Chroma zone was their destination. The final coordinates were at the cone of a Green volcano. They might simply have proceeded across the green terrain toward the site, but Chroma protocol forbade. They were otherChroma visitors, and had to check in and state their business.