“Focus on your constituency,” Havoc reminded her. “It has to be with their support."
She remembered. She oriented on the mosses and lichen that gave her their support, and they responded strongly, suffusing her with special magic. But how did this translate to vaporizing her substance?
There came a mental signal from Voila, wordless, for she did not yet know how to speak, but it carried the essence of the conversion. Feel. Her baby was showing her how, just as she had shown Havoc how before. Voila was the expert. She knew how to become a cloud, and how to return to solid form. Gale found that immensely reassuring.
Gale followed Voila's lead—and saw vapor rising from her hands. She was doing it, this time deliberately. She focused, and the process intensified. Her vision fogged, and she knew it was because her eyes themselves were fogging, literally. She was sublimating, dissolving into vapor. Becoming a cloud.
How did a person see or hear without eyes or ears? She understood that the ifrits didn't need such organs, but she did not like the idea of being blind and deaf. Alarm formed and intensified.
Feel, Voila thought again, and demonstrated. Gale followed her lead again, and became aware of the air around her, its flavor, temperature, pressure, and a myriad other factors. Suddenly she didn't need sight or sound; she had a more direct contact with her environment. Her alarm faded.
Now she was mostly cloud, with only part of her remaining inconveniently solid. Why would anyone want to be solid instead of vaporous? This state was so much more versatile and comfortable. She was glad to be aware of the last of the solidity departing. Now she was all cloud.
Welcome, a thought came. I am Ivor.
Going, Voila thought without the word.
Wait! But the baby was already floating clear.
She is joining the other children, Ivor explained. She is secure. I will guide you now. His thoughts were competent and comforting.
How was he in such direct touch with her, since the ifrits lacked telepathy? Oh—a vapor tendril. Now she was aware of it. Its mere touch of her vapor communicated his thought and nature with perfect clarity. Now she understood what the ifrits had tried to explain: there could be no deception among ifrits, for touch-understanding was complete. She had had to experience it before she could truly believe it. Now she believed.
Time passed differently. She was aware of it, yet it was less important compared to the rest of the environment. There was so much to explore in this marvelous new form! Her mind seemed somehow improved; she could perform thoughts with pleasant speed and power, and overall she seemed so much more aware. But she was supposed to be tracking the children, finding that she could send vapor tendrils out to touch them reassuringly. As it turned out, she was the one being reassured; they had adapted to cloud formation with the joy and acceptance of childhood, not needing to analyze it.
This is why an adult guide is better, Ivor thought. We have the patience of age.
He was right. She let the children be, knowing that they were more competent in this form than she was, and that Havoc and Iva were tracking them, and the ifrit children. They would be all right. Her best course was to focus on her new existence, learning all she could about it.
The child clouds floated exuberantly off to explore the terrain. Havoc and Iva tracked them from the far side; Gale and Ivor from the near side. Soon the others were well ahead, as Gale was still finding out how to travel. Ivor guided her in that, patiently, and she was learning.
But the contact of tendrils enabled such comprehensive dialogue that it wasn't talk so much as the sharing of minds. She had to render it as dialogue in order to fix parts of it in memory that would survive her return to solid form; Ivor advised her on that, and it was impossible not to trust his judgment and experience. So what was covered in much larger, broader, and satisfying exchanges was squeezed into the limited dialogue form so that it would not be lost.
“This is amazing,” she thought. “I thought communication would be limited without sound and sight, but its scope is enormously greater."
“We find it so,” he agreed. “This is why we never made much effort to enhance our solid forms, until we encountered you human beings and realized what was possible."
“Agreement. How did you stand being squeezed solid for days at a time, to converse with us?"
“We are interested, and the sex helped make it worthwhile."
“Sex makes much association interesting. But I understood you don't normally practice it."
“Not in our natural form."
“How is it that you reproduce, then?"
“We extend significant pseudopods, merge them, and separate them from our main substances. They become the small ifrits you have seen. We nurture them until they are grown, then let them go."
“This is essentially similar to what we do. But this merging of pseudopods—isn't that sexual?"
“It is reproductive, not sexual."
“There is a distinction,” she agreed. “But among our kind they normally associate. Nature does not depend on human commitment to regenerate the species; she makes it intensely pleasurable."
“Nature?"
She clarified the concept as well as she could, then continued: “So as it happens, we don't need to be concerned about reproduction; it will take care of itself. We focus on the pleasure."
“We did find pleasure when we did the act with your kind in the solid forms,” he agreed. “But it was projected by your other Glamor being."
“Yes, so you would know what it feels like. You feel nothing like that when you make baby ifrits?"
“We do not,” he agreed.
“I find that curious. Do you have some other incentive to reproduce your kind?"
“It is our normal course. Our existence is not complete until we pass our essence along to others."
Gale had some doubt about this; altruism seemed seldom to operate among living things. Of course these were demons, not living creatures. But they seemed equivalent. “So you procreate without pleasure. But wouldn't it be better with pleasure?"
“We do not know."
“There is another reason for the pleasure: to facilitate a relationship without necessarily procreating. Families need to stay together even when not seeking to have more children."
“We stay together because it facilitates the welfare of our children."
She changed the subject. “This form has marvelous senses. But we are oriented on sight, hearing, and touch. I miss those."
“We have them."
She was dubious. “Without eyes, ears, and fingers?"
“Those appendages merely collect raw data which is then translated for the mind. They are not necessary in cloud form."
Hope flared. “Interest! You mean I can learn to perceive these ways as a cloud?"
“Confirmation. Here is how.” Another pseudopod of vapor touched her, loaded with information.
Gale assimilated it rapidly. This form was good for such ready transfer of information; her floating cells simply copied that data and reorganized to assimilate it. She discovered that she did not need eyes to see; light-sensitive cells accomplished it. She did not need ears to hear; rapid interpretation of the compressions and rarefactions of sound was sufficient. And the vapor was touching all of the ground the cloud passed over; all she needed to do was relay the awareness of the cells to her consciousness and interpret them as larger patterns.
She floated in place, reorganizing. Gradually she saw the red landscape below her, and heard the sounds of animals and wind and moving water, and felt their outlines. All of these impressions were far richer than those of normal human senses; she was in danger of being overwhelmed by information.
“Filter it,” Ivor suggested. “All of it is not required on a constant basis."
Which was exactly what the normal human senses did, she realized. She applied the programmed filters, and the flood of sensation diminished until it was comfortable. That was a relief.
Then she became a
ware of something else. “The children! Where are they?"
“They moved on ahead while we paused. We can seek them."
They applied propulsion, which Gale realized now was not magical in itself, but a magical control of one of the properties of the bright light coming from above: heat. That heat was taken in by the cells, transferred to cells at the rear, and fed into the air. The air expanded explosively, pushing the rear of the cloud forward. Because the network was flexibly fixed, this drove the full cloud. The process was sophisticated in detail in ways she had not appreciated until she considered it. Information was filtered here too, again as it was in her human body; in physical form she did not maintain an awareness of the spot physical and chemical processes that enabled her to move in the ways her brain directed. The cloud was a body, spread out in relatively diffuse manner, but similar in the larger essence.
They came near the edge of the Red Chroma zone. An ifrit was coalescing. “That is Iva,” Ivor thought. He sent her a query tendril, and in a moment had the news: “The children crossed to the adjacent zone. The Glamors floated without coalescing. Ours followed, crossing in solid form. Havoc was alarmed and crossed immediately, but Iva can't do that."
Because she was an ifrit, not a Glamor in ifrit form; she had to coalesce, then vaporize again in the new zone, picking up its magic. “Why was Havoc alarmed?” Because Havoc was not one to worry without reason.
“The adjacent Chroma zone is Black."
Ouch! “I am crossing now."
“Caution. No inruption is imminent, and there are no predators in this region. The children are not in danger."
“Black Chroma makes me nervous regardless. I want them out of there.” Gale knew she was being emotional rather than rational, but had to follow her nature. “I must help Havoc fetch them back."
“Recommendation: observe without summoning them. They are interested in exploring, and are surely safe. Children do not like being restricted."
There spoke a permissive father. Gale was a worried mother. “They will know the moment my tendril touches one."
“Negation. Use an anonymous tendril.” He sent her the information.
She realized this had possibilities. “Appreciation.” She floated on across the nonChroma strip, leaving Ivor behind.
It was indeed a Black Chroma zone. A cloud was there, and she verified that it was Havoc's trailing edge. They touched tendrils, rapidly exchanging information. He acquainted her with the location of the children, which was within a linked network of caves, and she acquainted him with the mechanisms for seeing, hearing, feeling, and anonymous tendriling. Vapor communication was as competent as telepathy, so the exchange was immediate.
“They are right,” he thought in speech form. “There is no inruption, and no predators in this vicinity. I was concerned, so came across, but we can afford to watch them for a while."
They floated close to the caves. The children were entirely inside them, shaping themselves to the subterranean configuration and not requiring much space. The adults extended tendrils and sent them into the nearest cave entrance, utilizing the new technique. They repulsed each other magnetically so did not overlap. Havoc and Gale maintained regular tendril contact outside the cave, so knew what each was doing inside. The newly realized senses enabled them to see inside the cave by wavelengths of light normally drowned out by the full light of day, and to feel the qualities of the confined air. It was actually superior to what the human senses could have provided. The human body wouldn't have fitted comfortably in the narrower portions, and its senses would not have been adequate in the darker recesses.
“This is worthwhile experience,” Havoc said. It was actual sound that he sent to her and she received, now that they know how to do it. They were enjoying the exploration of their increasing abilities.
“Agreement. I was wary of the cloud form, but now I hope it works as well back home."
“It should. The two planets are similar; only the life forms differ."
“And the demon forms."
“We are now demons,” he said, surprised. She did not have to read his mind; surprise was a quality of the communication he sent. In fact they could not read minds; telepathy was foreign to the ifrit nature, or at least had not been developed in cloud form. But other modes of information transferal were so apt that telepathy would have been little if any advantage.
Their two tendrils lengthened endlessly, snaking through the winding corridor of the cave. Now they caught up to the children, who had assumed similarly elongated forms so as to share the caves without overlapping. All eight of them were there, exploring the crevices and playing impromptu tag with each other, in the process becoming hopelessly tangled. Yet they maintained their separate forms, the humans evidently having learned the technique from the ifrits.
“They seem safe,” Havoc said. “We can let them play for a while."
Gale agreed. The children were gaining similarly valuable experience, mastering abilities that might be useful later in life; it was best to leave them to it, as long as there was no danger. For one thing, with the adults outside, no threat could come without being known before it got near the children.
“The ifrits procreate, but don't have sex,” Gale said, transferring the information about overlapping and forming new entities.
“What a shame. Sex is not for procreation alone."
“So I tried to explain to Ivor. But he does not understand."
“Neither does Iva.” Then he got the idea she had known he would. “We should find out whether non-reproductive sex is feasible in cloud form."
“We lack a program for it"
“Because they lack it. We shall need to develop our own."
“But if we do it wrong, we shall make an ifrit baby. That would not be wise, and we couldn't keep it."
“Agreement.” He pondered. “I am exploring my information. I know how to procreate, but I find no sexuality in it. It's not a matter of obtaining the pleasure without the baby; there's no pleasure to have."
That was Gale's impression. It seemed to be an insuperable barrier.
Then Iva arrived, having completed her crossing and transformation. She extended a tendril. “The children are well?"
“They are well,” Gale agreed. “We spied on them in the cave, and let them be."
“They will tire of it soon,” Iva said.
They did. Gale and Havoc quickly withdrew their tendrils as the children floated out and resumed more compact cloud shapes. They were ready for the next adventure.
“They should rest soon,” Iva said.
“Agreement,” Gale said.
The children were for once amenable. All of the little clouds settled in place for a nap. It seemed the ifrits were similar in this respect to humans. In fact they were similar in most respects, other than underlying nature.
There was a flash from across the nonChroma zone. “Ivor says there is a problem with your mortal humans,” Iva said.
In a moment they learned not only what that problem was, but that the ifrits could signal each other at a distance if conditions were right. They formed reflector patches and angled modified beams of sunlight across the terrain, to be received and interpreted. Iva shared the technique, and Gale and Havoc understood it. There was a section of the nonChroma zone that lacked vegetation, and Ivor had beamed across it.
The problem was that Augur had attempted to assume cloud form, and had succeeded. But then the wind had shifted, diluting the Red Chroma zone, and he seemed to be unable to return to solid form. Ilka Ifrit was uncertain what to do, so had signaled Ivor to contact Havoc and Gale.
“Return with Ivor,” Havoc suggested. “He's already across the nonChroma zone."
“Acquiescence.” She floated in that direction. Havoc was competent to watch the children take their nap.
Ivor was already moving, trailing a tendril for contact with her. Ilka's information was that Augur and Aura had wondered whether this was something ordinary Chroma folk could do,
so had tried. Aura had gotten nowhere, being a Blue Chroma person in a Red Chroma zone. But Augur, to his surprise, had succeeded. Ilka had helped him achieve full cloud form and acquainted him with the basics of organization. Distracted, they had not been aware of the slow shift of wind. It was all Ilka could do to hustle him on toward the center of the zone so that he could recover full control. He was not yet apt at traveling, and remained perilously close to the edge of the zone.
“What happens to an ifrit caught out of Chroma?” Gale asked tightly as they traveled.
“Normally we condense to solid form to get past nonChroma. We are unable to maintain vapor cohesion in the absence of sufficient magic. Our substance dissipates."
“Death?"
“We are not a living class of creature, but an individual caught in this manner suffers dissipation and is lost as an aware entity."
“That sounds like the equivalent of death to me. Since Augur is a living entity, it would mean death for him."
“Agreement. We normally take care not to be caught in this manner. This was an unusual coincidence of elements."
“We call it bad luck."
“Luck?"
Gale explained the concept. Like humor, it was alien to ifrit understanding; they had no circuitry relating to it. Ivor accepted her package of thoughts, and would share it with other ifrits.
Augur was in serious trouble. What could they do to save him? The ifrits were willing to help, but didn't know how. That meant that it was up to the humans. Up to Gale. And she had no idea.
Mother.
Gale felt a shock. That was Voila's voiceless, wordless thought. The baby was following her. How could that have happened? She was supposed to be napping.
Gale sent back a tendril. Voila was there, her cloud approaching, one tendril ahead. How? Gale demanded, for the moment unable to focus on anything else.
But the baby didn't know how. She had simply followed her mother. Somehow she had eluded the attention of Havoc and the others. Maybe she had used her awareness of the future to thread a course that avoided detection. The developing powers of all the children were eerie at times, and Voila's especially.