Page 8 of Key to Destiny


  “What's my secret?"

  “You detest sex with a man. No one has asked you, but you don't want it anyway. You prefer a woman."

  Pear was shocked. “You know!"

  “I read your mind. You face forced marriage with a man, and forced sex. You dread it, but see no feasible alternative other than death, which doesn't appeal either. I may have a way out of that abyss. Are you amenable to a marriage of convenience?"

  “I don't want to marry anyone!"

  “With a man of your persuasion."

  “A man who doesn't like women? What would he want with me?"

  “To keep the secret. To make a good life with a woman who can manage well, pleasing his family and the community. A woman who would not question or expose his private association with another man."

  Pear considered, suddenly seeing the relevance. Such a man would not demand sex with her or object to her having a private girlfriend. “We could adopt."

  “Affirmation."

  “Bashful?"

  “Affirmation."

  “How can I trust you? This could be a cruel joke."

  “Would Bashful play such a joke?"

  “Negation."

  “I will tell him to dance with you. Take him outside. Talk. Become a couple. Others will try to take him from you, but he will be loyal. He will say you are the smartest and best worker he knows, which is true. But you know the real reason.” Aspect buttressed this reasoning with a mental projection of acceptance. Pear was not telepathic, but might receive some of the mood, and decide to do it.

  The girl considered again. She was not slow to appreciate a possible answer to her dilemma. “I'll risk it."

  Soon they returned to the dance. No one had missed Pear. Aspect cut in on Bashful. “Pear,” she murmured. “Dance with her. Others will think she is grateful for your attention. You will say she has a good mind. She does. Become a couple. Others will think you are nervous about pretty girls, so like the one you can get. Let them."

  “Affirmation,” he replied, amazed.

  By the end of the evening, everyone at the dance was sharing the news. Handsome Bashful had taken the ugliest girl to be his own. What was the matter with him? She was smart, but since when did that count with a man? Yet it seemed to be so.

  Gala did not seem completely pleased with her son's choice, but realized that social acceptance was more important than prettiness. The girl was certainly competent. Her son would marry and provide heirs to the farm. That was what counted.

  When Aspect was alone with Ennui and Nonce, in a cabin for the night, she got the rest of their story. She explained that the dragon seed buzz had been for her, not Ennui, because she had inadvertently told of the loom. But she had learned things from Bashful that related.

  “It must be an access to a channel of magic,” Aspect concluded. “The ikons are responsive, and its own loom ikon more so."

  “But this is way beyond us,” Ennui said. “It would take a Glamor to handle it."

  Nonce laughed, thinking she was joking, then realized that she was not.

  They had accomplished their mission, and in the process found what might be a portal or avenue to greater understanding. Havoc and Gale would have to judge.

  Now all they had to do was get home to Triumph City and make their report.

  * * *

  Chapter 2—Family

  “Havoc."

  He glanced at her, aware that she was excited but was masking the cause. Glamors had superior mind reading abilities, but since both of them were Glamors, they remained even. They could hide things from each other when they chose. “You crave twice as much sex?"

  Gale laughed. “Not exactly, incubus. Walk with me."

  What was she up to? He set down the tiny fern tree seedling he had been communing with. I will return, he thought to it, and felt its acquiescence. Much of his time was spent studying trees in intense new detail, so as to better understand their needs and desires. He intended to make all the trees that had accepted him as their Glamor satisfied that the choice was apt. Gale was similarly studying the mosses. “Acquiescence."

  She took his hand. A Glamor's mere touch could transform an ordinary person, and had similar effect on another Glamor, but Glamors were proof against being overwhelmed. They had been married only a month, and it was hard to tell where love left off and magic began. “Love."

  “Total,” he agreed, kissing her. In public they made little shows of their mutual devotion, enjoying the game, but in private they simply basked in it. They had loved each other since childhood, but fulfillment had been balked until recently, so it seemed new again. They did not need to speak of it at all, as they constantly shared minds, but there was satisfaction in all the nuances of expression.

  They walked through their cave-house to the front. The other Glamors had made them a wedding gift of the knowledge of the site and the initial preparations, so that they had been able to move in immediately. It was just about perfect for a Glamor couple, being isolated in the heights of unscalable mountains, actually the unrecognized remnant of an ancient nonChroma volcano cone, so that no intrusions were likely. The base of the cone had become a lake, and the cave was in the inner wall, both heated by the lingering deep fires of a mountain that was not quite as dead as it seemed. The jagged ridge of the cone was covered in snow; the subterranean furnace did not reach that far. They lived at the fringe of heat, so were comfortable rather than hot or cold, and could reach either extreme by moving down or up. If the volcano ever decided to return to full life, they would know; its rumblings were hardly subtle. Meanwhile, it was ideal for a family. Not that they had one yet.

  “But we do,” Gale said.

  “Confusion."

  She merely looked at him.

  He caught on. “Already! You're sure?"

  “I feel the dawning entity within me, apart from me."

  Havoc was thrilled. “What—?"

  “I can't distinguish gender yet. Does it matter?"

  “Uncertainty. I think I want both, to be like me and like you."

  “Well, choose one for this time."

  “And if I don't?"

  “I don't want to birth a neuter."

  He capitulated. “Like you."

  “Female,” she agreed.

  “There's no other female like you.” Then he paused. He was getting a mental signal. Ennui.

  Symbol must see you, Ennui thought.

  And there was the refutation. Symbol was like Gale in key respects. Relay her message.

  Too complicated.

  He sighed. Symbol was not a woman to make a fuss over nothing. She was his official mistress, and had precise awareness of her duties and limits, apart from the fact that she loved him with a commitment verging on desperation. He would have to bring her here, because he didn't want to show himself at the palace and mess up the routine of the pretend king, the “mock.” “I must fetch Symbol,” he told Gale.

  “I'll fetch her,” Gale said. “She's not getting her fourth of you this day."

  It was true he had promised Symbol a forth, and she would hold him to it. Gale had no problem with that; she just liked to remind him that any sex he had with Symbol was now with Gale's acquiescence more than his own. Hide her in your chamber, he thought to Ennui. Gale will fetch her.

  Ennui made a mental nod. Ten minutes hence.

  Agreement.

  The connection faded. The ikon facilitated it, but it required considerable concentration by both parties. “Ten minutes hence in Ennui's chamber."

  “That gives us nine minutes for love.” She meant it literally; she was not speaking of sex, which could distract from the purity of the emotion.

  They took that time, holding hands, gazing across the warm water of the lake, sharing thoughts of their baby to come. “We'll call her Voila,” Gale said.

  “But her peer group must name her."

  “What peer group?"

  There it was: this would be the first child of two Glamors, unique until
they had another. In time she might mask herself and join village children, if they could arrange it, and then she might gain a name. But until then, she would be theirs. “Voila,” he agreed. It was an exclamation of success, quite fitting in the circumstance.

  Gale disappeared. They had been practicing virtually instant magic travel, as it was useful when Glamors wanted to get around, and were becoming reasonably proficient at it. Other Glamors had aided them with instructions, because such travel could be dangerous when clumsy.

  He sat at the brink of water, gazing into its depths. “Vwa-LA,” he murmured, liking the sound of it. Starting his family with Gale—what could be better than that?

  Gale reappeared, clasping Symbol, who was swathed in form-fitting clothing throughout. Havoc was struck by how similar they looked in outline. They were not close in age, a decade apart, but both were lovely self-possessed changelings. Symbol was an excellent adviser and sexual companion, though for his taste no one could match Gale in that or any other respect.

  “Appreciation,” both women said together. He hadn't tried to conceal his thoughts, and one was telepathic while the other was apt at reading faces.

  Symbol disengaged and looked around. Her veil was so tight it resembled a facial mask. “Oh, this is beautiful! Your secret house, garden, and lake."

  “Location unknown,” Havoc agreed. “What brings you?"

  “Private message from Mneme she did not want trusted to thought sharing.” Symbol was not telepathic, but was able to mask her thoughts; she could keep a secret. “She knew I could find you soon. I knew Ennui could reach you."

  Both Havoc and Gale frowned. Mneme was the mistress of the changeling complex, a changeling herself and one tough woman. She would not bother them for nothing. This was not likely to be simple news.

  “We are private here,” Gale said, meaning that no one else could hear their speech or read their thoughts.

  “She says she has a situation that she believes will interest you. She requests your attendance as soon as feasible."

  Havoc exchanged a glance with Gale. This had to be important. They would need to attend.

  “Appreciation for the message,” Havoc said. “We'll attend to it."

  “Stay and watch the premises,” Gale told Symbol.

  “Oh, I don't need to intrude on—"

  But Havoc and Gale had already linked hands and traveled, not hearing the end of her protest. The woman would treat the premises with respect, and become familiar with them. They might need a baby-sitter some day.

  They arrived in Mneme's office at the changeling complex. It was one of the locations they had zeroed in. The complex was in the process of reconstruction; Havoc had nearly destroyed it before Mneme yielded to his authority. However, the activities were proceeding efficiently. The complex was warded against Glamor intrusion, but that did not seem to apply to Havoc and Gale, perhaps because they were nonChroma Glamors, unknown when the complex was crafted.

  In a moment Mneme returned to her office, aware of their arrival. She was about 40, and handsome in severely feminine way. She wasted no time; she was an efficient woman. “Greeting, Sire, Queen."

  “Acknowledged."

  “We have a problem that you may be able to resolve, in part, if you so choose."

  This was curious. They could not read her mind; she was not telepathic, but was another person able to mask her thoughts. “Problems are to be dealt with,” Havoc said.

  “Some require finesse. We have three super-changelings we may be unable to manage much longer."

  What was a super changeling? “Amplify."

  “We normally deal in zygotes which are implanted in willing women, who subsequently birth them as their own, as fourths. These are the standard changelings, as you know. On rare occasion we get rejects. These can normally be handled via adoption or disposal, but some are challenging. We gambled on a limited brood, and perhaps made a mistake."

  “Your broods are selected from the laboratory mergence of donated sperm and eggs,” Gale said. “You select them carefully. How can you make a mistake?"

  “This was a small experimental second generation changeling brood."

  “Donated by grown changelings!” Havoc exclaimed. “They did not grow true?"

  “Most did. But three that we know of may have mutated. We had to take them back."

  Gale frowned. “They were implanted in women in the temples, and later birthed—and then returned? I did not know this was ever done."

  “We stand ready to recover changelings who are threatened or whose families are unable to maintain them. It is done through the Temple without publicity. These three were simply beyond the capacity of their families."

  “How can a baby be beyond any mother's capacity?” Gale demanded. This was obviously a fresh concern of hers, as she would not want any such mischief with her own baby.

  “They have what appear to be incipient Glamor powers."

  The two of them stared at her. “And they would need Glamor parents,” Havoc said.

  “Us,” Gale said.

  “It must of course be by your choice, and not merely because no one can dictate to you. These are healthy feeling living babies. You have to want them and be able to love them. If one of them is to your liking."

  “What's the alternative, for those not chosen?” Havoc asked.

  “Destruction."

  “Of babies?” Gale demanded sharply.

  “Children must be disciplined, or they spoil. All prior human Glamors have been changeling adults, already civilized. There have been no child Glamors. These may not be full Glamors, but rather partial ones. Still, they are beyond the competence of ordinary families. They can not be allowed to run wild."

  She was making tough sense. But Havoc was in deep doubt that he wanted any such adoptees in his family. He wanted their own children—three of them, anyway.

  “Show them to us,” Gale said tersely.

  Mneme spoke into a tube. “Bring the three.” Then, to Havoc and Gale: “We have given them temporary names for convenience. These need not be honored beyond these premises."

  Soon three women arrived, each one carrying a swaddled baby. All three caretakers were nursing their charges as they walked.

  “It is the only way we can pacify them,” Mneme explained. “They are willful."

  Havoc knew that there were amulets that made women freshen instantly. He saw them on the women. Babies did like to feed.

  Mneme signaled the first woman, who stepped forward. “This is Warp, male. He can levitate."

  The woman lifted the baby clear of her breast and let him go. Havoc stopped himself from diving to catch the infant, knowing that these folk knew what they were doing. Warp hovered in the air, scrambling to return to her breast, his black hair lifting out from his head. In a moment she drew him back in.

  “In a Chroma zone this power is not unknown at six months,” Mneme said. “But this is a nonChroma Zone."

  And only Glamors could do such magic in nonChroma zones. This baby was extraordinary.

  The second woman stepped forward. “This is Flame, female,” Mneme said, indicating the red haired baby. “She is pyro. When annoyed, she ignites her bedclothes. Do you wish a demonstration?"

  “Pass,” Havoc said quickly.

  The third woman stepped up. “This is Weft, female. She conjures.” Mneme held a bright string of baubles before her. The yellow haired baby reached for it, but Mneme drew it back. Suddenly it jumped to the baby's hand. Satisfied, Weft returned to her nursing, clutching the prize.

  “They are young yet,” Mneme said. “Perhaps they will develop other powers. But these suffice; they can not be governed by normal means."

  “We'll take them,” Gale said.

  “Which ones?"

  “All three."

  Havoc turned to her, disgruntled. She already had her own baby starting; this would completely disrupt their schedule and their lives. But she sent him a preemptive mental warning, and he stifled his protest.
This was her department.

  It was Mneme who raised a question. “Can you nurse all three? Even with the amulets this may be a challenge."

  “I can do what I have to do, without an amulet,” Gale said, her bosom expanding. She had not inhaled; her breasts were growing larger. Havoc had not realized she could do this, and perhaps Gale had not known it either, prior to the need. They were still discovering Glamor powers.

  “I must caution you that any one of these would be a challenge,” Mneme said. “I had hoped you would take one, possibly two. But three—"

  “We'll manage,” Gale said. “Havoc, you take Flame. I'll take Warp and Weft."

  Mneme nodded to the three women. They cooperated, giving the babies to Havoc and Gale. Then they removed their amulets, so that their swollen breasts could subside.

  Flame, not recognizing him, began to fuss. Havoc stood helplessly, not knowing what to do. He knew that women could quiet babies by nursing them, but that was not his province.

  “Project assurance of safety, comfort, and sleepiness,” Mneme advised him. “That's one thing about your status: you can reach her mind directly."

  He tried it, and the baby quieted. He received a mind trace from Gale, who was doing the same.

  “Appreciation,” Gale said. “We shall take them home."

  “Gratitude,” Mneme replied. She was the toughest of women, but she truly cared for her charges. She knew that this commitment would be honored.

  Havoc touched Gale with his free hand, and they conjured back to the home site. They had to touch each other, because otherwise they would not align perfectly in timing or positioning, and could separate or collide.

  They landed just outside the cave-house. Symbol was there. “Babies!” she exclaimed, startled but pleased.

  “Adopted,” Havoc explained. “Super-changelings."

  “Super?” she asked, stepping close to admire the babies,

  Then Flame focused on Symbol's blouse. A curl of smoke rose from it, as if a magnifying glass was burning it. The woman jumped back, tearing off the blouse and slapping the incipient flame to stifle it. It was clear that she didn't mind baring her breasts, which were excellent. They were invisible, like the rest of her torso, but she had powdered them so that their fullness showed. The rest of her wasn't powdered, so the breasts seemed to swell from the empty air beneath her head. Actually she had lived in a nonChroma zone long enough to suffer some attrition despite a native magic stone she carried; her heart and lungs showed faintly.