"And all we have are twelve,” Ennui said.
"With twelve Chroma,” Gale said. “How can there be any more?"
We assumed there was but one Glamor to a Chroma, the Orange Glamor Sphinx thought. We may have been mistaken.
"Denial,” Jamais Vu, the Black Glamor, responded. “We all know our Chroma. We would have been aware of any other Glamor power there."
"Perhaps there are colors lacking volcanoes,” Dour, the Invisible Glamor, said.
"There must be,” Stevia agreed. “But how can we identify them? It was all we could do to locate your additional five, and these three or six must be more securely hidden."
"Is it possible that they don't yet exist?” Lucent asked.
Symbol gazed at the illusion figure. “Maybe the outermost ones don't, but the inner ones, on which the rest of the complex is built, must exist. Otherwise the structure has no integrity."
Havoc shook his head. “We need more information. Do we have any other way of classifying Glamors? Other than color?"
"No two Glamors have the same number of legs,” Pisca, the Translucent Glamor, said. “That is, in the species we represent; these human forms are mere conveniences, not the essence of our natures."
Havoc turned to Ennui. “Make a survey, oath friend. Classify them by feet."
Ennui nodded, producing her secretarial pad. “If you please, Glamors—who has one foot?"
I do, Mentor, the Brown Glamor thought. I am a Worm, with no permanent projections. I slither.
"Some worm!” Havoc said. “You taught me most of what I know."
"Ditto,” Gale said. “And you gave us your seeds, oath friend."
Ennui made a note. “And who has two feet?"
"I do,” Pisca, the Translucent Glamor, said. “Two fins, left and right, for swimming."
Deva, the Yellow Glamor, flashed for attention. “If you mean to proceed linearly, you have missed me. I have no feet, and do not walk or crawl, being Demon."
"Apology,” Ennui said. “I add you to the list, at the top. Zero feet. And who has three?"
I do, Avian, the Gray Glamor, thought.
Ennui marked him down. “Four?"
"I do,” Stevia, the Red Glamor, said. “I locomote on the hind two, and employ the front two for general purposes."
"I am familiar with the adaptation,” Ennui said, smiling as she marked it. “As are some of the others here. Five?"
"I have five legs,” Lucent, the Blue Glamor, said. “All insects do, in their mature stages."
"Six?"
I have six, Billy, the White Glamor Goat thought. All my variants do, whether herbivore or carnivore.
"Such as the bears, dogs, cats, buffalo, and rats,” Ennui agreed, making it. “Seven?"
I do, Silver, the Silver Spider Glamor, thought. As with all arachnids.
"Eight?"
There was no answer. Ennui looked around. “Have we found a missing Glamor? What has eight legs?"
No one knew. Symbol saw that Havoc looked thoughtful. He had a notion, she was sure, but was not sharing it with the others.
"Nine?"
I do, the sphinx, the Orange Glamor, thought.
"Ten?"
"I do,” Thumb, the Green Glamor, said. “All mollusks have ten legs, though not all variants show them."
"Eleven?"
There was a pause. “I believe the system changes,” Dour, the Invisible Glamor, said. “I have a hundred legs, representing the millipedes. I know of no creatures with legs between ten and a hundred."
"One hundred,” Ennui agreed, marking it. “Then the next might be one thousand."
There was silence. “I think we have another blank,” Gale said. “Assuming that we find categories beyond."
"Ten thousand?” Ennui inquired.
"I have ten thousand legs,” Jamais Vu, the Black Glamor, said. “I represent the saprophytes, the fungi, that break down dead organic matter. My legs are virtually infinite, and I know of no category beyond this."
Ennui looked around. “Have I overlooked any Glamor?” There was no response. “I have twelve Glamors listed in order, and two missing. The total would seem to be fourteen, with no viable prospect for a continuation."
"Eight legs, and a thousand legs,” Havoc said. “Those are the ones to focus on. But what other way do we have to identify them?"
"Maybe by species?” Symbol asked. “We've covered all the Chroma, and all the legs, but have we covered all the living things on Planet Charm?"
"Planet Charm,” Gale said. “What of Counter-Charm? Are there Glamors there?"
"Negation,” Stevia said. “We have an enclave there, and the plants and creatures differ somewhat, but there are no eight legs or thousand legs there. And no human beings. We decided to leave it pristine."
"But have we identified all the local species?” Symbol insisted. “What about plants?"
"They aren't conscious,” Stevia said. “They don't move about."
"Expletive!” Gale swore. “They have feelings too. I can lie in the moss and commune, and it protects me from dust and bugs.” Gale glanced at Lucent. “No offense. I get along with bugs too. My best friend was a spider."
Not quite the same, Silver thought. But point taken. You have not offended such entities.
"And I have always gotten along well with trees,” Havoc said. “They don't speak or think in the way we do, but they understand when addressed, and respond. They have helped me many times, and I would not play them false."
"This seems viable,” Jamais said. “I represent the saprophytes because they lack the intellect or motion to represent themselves. Their position in the framework of life is vital, and they support me and give me special powers. Plants seem similarly valid."
"Persuasive,” Stevia said. “Apology."
"Let's try those,” Ennui said. “Is there a Glamor for the mosses?"
There was silence.
"Is there a Glamor for the trees?"
There was no answer.
"And yet it seems there should be,” Ennui concluded. “But do their legs fit?"
"If fungi have ten thousand legs, the mosses have one thousand,” Gale said.
Ennui nodded. “One thousand legs for mosses. Now the trees.” She looked at Havoc.
"I would think one,” he said. “But that's taken."
"That's the stem,” Symbol said. “The trunk. The feet would be below. The roots."
"The roots!” Havoc agreed. “Large trees have eight significant roots. A tap root, three bracing roots, and four spreading roots. It matches!"
"Eight legs for trees,” Ennui said, noting it on her list. “Our pattern is now complete through fourteen species."
"Maybe there'll be a new interplanetary colony arriving from somewhere else,” Symbol said facetiously. “For the fifteenth Glamor."
"Colonization!” Stevia said. “Human beings colonized most recently. What of the others?"
The sphinxes colonized from a far planet, fifty thousand years ago, the Orange Glamor thought. We were the last before the humans. We had similar disruptions before coming to terms with the prior species. It is part of our social history.
"From another planet—in the manner of our species,” Havoc said. “We assumed you were native to Charm."
Negation. We do not remember how we traveled, but believe it was on a colony ship, like yours, which then departed.
"Fascination,” Stevia said. “Can this also be true of other species?"
"We have the fourteenth and thirteenth, perhaps,” Ennui said, making notes. “Which would have been the twelfth?"
The six-legged varieties, Billy the Goat thought. We came perhaps a million years ago, from elsewhere.
"And the eleventh?” Ennui said, as both mortals and Glamors gazed about, amazed at these revelations.
The birds," Avian thought. Five million years ago.
"The Tenth?"
"That was ours,” Pisca said. “About ten million years ago. The memory is vague, but defini
te."
"Ninth?"
"The Mollusks,” Thumb said. “Circa fifty million years back. Our kind held sway in the lakes until the fish intruded."
The Translucent Glamor flared. “You had no right to keep all those lakes to yourselves."
"Eighth,” Ennui said quickly.
Ours, Silver thought. There was excellent feeding here, a hundred million years ago.
"On our kind!” Lucent said, flaring blue. “We were here two hundred million years ago, and were well settled before your predators disrupted things."
"Sixth!"
Dour smiled grimly. “The millipedes, five hundred million years ago. We held fine sway before the flying bugs arrived."
Which brings us to the Worms, a billion years ago, Mentor the Brown Dragon thought. We had no need of the intrusions by any of the recent species.
"Fourth,” Ennui said.
"That was the Trees,” Jamais Vu said. “Following our spores by about a billion years. We welcomed them, having had nothing but the mosses to recycle."
"Fungi—third,” Ennui said. “Mosses second.” She looked up. “Who was first?"
"The Demons,” Deva the Yellow Glamor said. “When we came four billion years ago, floating through space, the planet was barren. Nothing but sterile belching volcanoes. We spread out and adapted to harness their magic, establishing the base for all the other species to use it."
Havoc looked around. “Amazement! All the species are foreign!"
"Fourteen waves of colonization from elsewhere,” Deva agreed. “I suspect it was that way on other planets of the galaxy, with the demons leading the way."
"So now we have established all the major species of Planet Charm,” Ennui said, summing it up. “Of which the second and fourth seem to lack Glamors. The mosses and the trees."
"Unfair,” Gale said. “They are as deserving as any."
"And as needful,” Havoc agreed. “Trees have suffered grievously from human destruction."
"Let us not condemn humans,” Stevia said, flashing nude red. “Our species provided Glamors for seven species that lacked such representation before, and has represented them competently.” She glanced at Lucent. “Anyone ever try to step on a bug near Blue?"
"I would not!” Symbol said quickly. Others smiled.
"It seems we ran out of Chroma before those posts were filled,” Deva said. “Therefore they were neglected."
"Perhaps,” Havoc said, but he did not elucidate.
Symbol realized that he was up to something. She wished she knew what, for this entire exercise did not seem to have brought them closer to a resolution of the problem with the changeling complex, which seemed to be their enemy. Still, it had been a phenomenal experience, with remarkable discoveries.
She touched her green beads. Remarkable indeed! Who could say what the future held?
Chapter 10—Glamor
"I think we have done what we can,” Havoc said. “We have assembled twelve Glamors, all that are known, and identified the likely territories of two more. Now we have another mission to tackle: the changeling complex. As long as that exists outside our control, we are vulnerable."
"And we Glamors have had to protect you from its attacks,” Stevia said. “It is time to bring it to account."
"Agreement. But first we must return the ikons to their stations, now that we understand why they must remain there."
Stevia shook her head. “Negation. If the changeling complex was not aware of our effort before, it surely is now. Speed is of the essence. We Glamors will see to the return of the ikons; you must tackle the complex while it thinks you are occupied elsewhere."
"You are not bracing the complex with us?"
"When the succubus notified us of the location of the complex, we checked it—and discovered that we are unable to approach it. It is similar in this respect to the ikons and loom. This is another task that must be performed by mortals."
"Agreement. Perhaps unsurprised.” Havoc looked around. “Gale and I will nevertheless need some help getting there."
Silver and I have it, Mentor thought. We will move you as close as is feasible, and remain clear.
"I need my dragon scale, and she her dulcimer."
The two musical instruments appeared in their hands.
"And minstrel/songstress costumes."
The appropriate clothing appeared on them. Gale's was finely wrought, and he realized that it was made of spider silk. He arranged his own to mask his weapons, particularly his short sword.
"Swale."
The shimmer appeared before him. He poked it with a finger. “Stay with us. Serve as liaison between us and the Glamors. Keep the others posted on our progress. Have Throe assemble a warrior column sufficient to besiege a city, and move unobtrusively toward the changeling complex, to arrive two days hence."
This will be fun. The succubus faded.
"It is a mountain,” Stevia said. “Immune to siege."
"Not if someone opens its gates from inside."
"We know of no unguarded entrance. You will not be able to deceive them about your identity.” Stevia looked troubled. “In fact, as I consider, I find this foolhardy. Send some nonentity to try to get in. You must remain alive, as king."
"A nonentity could not do what I can."
She shook her head in frustration, glowing red. “You can be the most annoyingly stubborn man.” She paused as Gale, Symbol, and Ennui laughed sympathetically. “If you somehow get inside, they will kill you."
"Not at first,” Havoc said. “They will want to know more about me, to fathom my plan, lest there be some secret aspect they have overlooked."
"And is there such an aspect?"
"Affirmation."
She looked at him. “You're a fine lover but a foolish strategist. We must assume they will know everything that is said here, and prepare for it."
"That is why I have not presented the details of my plan."
"I want to kiss you, as there may not be another chance before you die. And I can't. Ire.” She considered a moment. “But there may be a way.” Stevia glanced at Gale. “Kiss him, and broadcast."
Gale smiled and obliged. She gave Havoc a kiss that threatened to make him float away, her mind sending her feeling out to everyone else. He returned it emphatically, delighting in the sheer joy of her nearness and devotion. She had always been his ultimate woman, even as a child, and now she was his perfect desire. There could be no better love.
When it was done, she withdrew somewhat unsteadily and looked around. Havoc followed her gaze.
The Red Glamor had manifested, and she was floating, eyes blissfully closed. The same was true of the Blue and Yellow Glamors. Ine, Bijou, and Spanky stood with similar expressions. And Ennui. And the Lady Aspect.
"She did tell me to broadcast,” Gale said, in wonder.
Symbol was the first to speak. “Even I received some of that, and I lack the mind reading ability. There's just something about Havoc. He's the handsomest, feelingest, sexiest man on the planet. We have to love him."
The Green Glamor manifested. “We males deserve similar delight. Kiss again, this time with Havoc broadcasting his impression of Gale."
"Negation!” Symbol said. “That would make me seem old and plain."
"So kiss Symbol,” Gale suggested to Havoc.
But Havoc, knowing Symbol's emotion, did not want to tease her that way. “We must get on our mission.” He sought the brown dragon. “It is time."
Mentor approached. Havoc addressed her mentally: give us a moment in limbo.
A cloud formed around Havoc and Gale. They floated in vagueness. “I need to clarify a fine point,” Havoc told her.
"Since we have no chance of fooling the changeling complex, what is the point?"
"They will know our real identities,” he said. “But not that we know they know. Therefore they may underestimate us, especially if we blunder into obvious traps and barely escape."
"As if we needed to make any special effort to
do that!"
He smiled. “Remember that they may be spying on our every action, word, and thought. We must play our roles completely. Havoc and Gale playing Hayseed and Nonesuch."
She nodded, understanding perfectly. “Kiss me. Just for ourselves."
"Kiss you? I want to marry you!"
"We keep coming back to that,” she said sadly.
He kissed her, knowing that she was as eager for marriage as he. If only they weren't changelings! That frustration blunted his edge, and the kiss was not all that it might have been.
Then he and Gale stood in a forest. “What do you have in mind?” she inquired.
He gave her a quick look, then smiled. “We'll pretend to be a minstrel and songstress, sneak into the Changeling Complex, and open its gates to let Throe's soldiers in."
She nodded. “That should work, if they don't catch on to our real identities."
"Why should they? We really are those roles, as good as any; we've done it often enough."
"Agreement. But we'll need supplies, if this is longer than a day."
Havoc looked upward. There was the slope of a mighty mountain. That was their objective; the Changeling complex was within it. “There should be a village close by. Let's walk."
They walked. Their simple dialogue had been entirely bogus, as signaled by Havoc's quick look; it was their sign that someone was probably snooping and nothing he said was to be taken straight. From this moment on they had no privacy. Actually they would be minstrel and songstress, and would try to sneak in, but it would all be an act. It would not fool the spies for a moment, but it might divert them from the real plan, if they believed that Havoc and Gale did not know their ruse was useless.
The real plan was a dangerous gamble, breathtakingly ambitious. He could not tell Gale, even by mind reading; it had to remain buried in his most secret mental recess, known to no one else. Until it could be implemented. But perhaps he could give Gale a hint, later, so that she could work it out for herself.