Air Apparent

  “Something’s wrong,” Venus said, stepping back. “Such resistance is unnatural. I will make you a deal: tell me how you managed it, and I will let you go without further persuasion.”

  “Deal,” he agreed, relieved. She had not tempted him when seemingly asleep, despite her artful partial exposure, but had certainly done so when she turned up the heat.

  “You may open your eyes now. I have turned it off.”

  He opened his eyes. She was now fully garbed, showing nothing particularly suggestive. She was keeping her part of the deal. “Thank you.”

  “Now tell.”

  “I love another. That spoils me for incidental liaisons.”

  “This must be recent.”

  “It happened today.”

  She nodded. “Stay the day and night. I can see it’s a long story.” She set up a table and began serving vegetables. Most vily were vegetarians, because they cared so strongly for their local animals.

  The offer was worthwhile. He was hungry and tired. He told her the story at length.

  Venus shook her head. “You know you’d be better off with me, no matter how difficult I make your life. Because I’m temporary and we both know it.”

  “I know. But I don’t have a choice. Debra is all I want.”

  “So I have verified. It’s too bad for me, and for you.” She considered. “If you were to cooperate, I could probably distract you long enough to take the edge off the spell of love for her. Then a drink of love potion admixed with reverse wood sawdust—”

  “No.”

  “Even though you know this is part of the trap set by the Factory. You were a fool ever to approach her.”

  “I was,” he agreed.

  “But of course men are fools about women. That’s one of the few redeeming features they possess. Well, you’ll share my bed tonight, and be on your way in the morning.”

  “I’m not—”

  “I have only the one bed and won’t make you sleep on the floor. I promised not to seduce you. I won’t make a move.” She smiled obscurely. “Of course if you make a move, I won’t resist. Consider it further proof of your love for her.”

  She had put it in a way he couldn’t argue with. So that night he shared her bed. He wore pajamas she provided—evidently she had entertained men here before—and she wore her well-closed nightie. The bed was not large and they were jammed together, but thoroughly covered. Soon she was asleep with her head on his shoulder, leaving the pillow to him.

  It took him time to nod off. The events of the day still roiled his mind. But at last he slept.

  He found himself in the dream realm. He knew that the hypno-gourd proffered daytime access to the dream realm, but that was programmed and usually started with the haunted house. This was a real dream, so it started where he chose, and that was on the Honeymoon.

  There were the loving couples, hugging and kissing each other, heedless of the other couples and himself. He walked around, observing fountains of milk and honey, becoming restive. All this loving was making him eager for some of it himself—but where was Debra? Shouldn’t she be here, since he was dreaming of her?

  But she might not be asleep. That would explain her absence. So he might just have to wait for her. Or she could be in some other dream setting.

  Then a dreamy bulb flashed over his head. He hadn’t dreamed of Debra, he had dreamed of the ideal setting, the Honeymoon, that he had researched in the Dream Dictionary. He should have dreamed of her first, then together they could have sought this setting.

  Well, he would dream of her now, in effect conjuring her to him. He concentrated, and she formed, somewhat in the manner of the demoness. “Debra!” he said gladly.

  “Factor,” she answered, recognizing him. Then she glanced down at herself. “I’m in centaur form.”

  “That’s the only way I have known you. Are you all right? You seem a bit vague.”

  “Well, I’m not asleep. This is a daydream, very distractible.”

  “Where are you? I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

  “That’s sweet of you. But there’s no problem; I’m spending the night in the Good Magician’s Castle, because he doesn’t have my Answer yet. I’m hoping he will tell me how to abate my curse, so I can be with you without capturing you.”

  “I hope you get that Answer! It’s awful being apart from you.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “I’m in bed with Venus Vila.” The moment he said it, he wished he hadn’t.

  “You are where?”

  “Oh Debra, please trust me! It’s not what you might think.”

  “I do trust you, Factor.” She hesitated. “May I call you by your first name? I hate being so formal.”

  “Call me Random,” he agreed. “Here is what happened: when I exchanged away from you, I landed where the Maiden Head had been, which was on the mantel of Venus Vila. She let me stay the night, but there’s only one bed. I assure you—”

  “I said I trust you, Random. I just wish it could be me in that bed with you.”

  Then, suddenly, there was a bed, and they were on it together, she in her straight human form.

  “What happened?” he asked, amazed.

  “I think I just fell asleep and passed from daydream into real dream. And my wish just came true.”

  “Oh, it did!” He kissed her. “I love you, Debra!”

  She kissed him back. “I love you, Random. But you know, in my own form I’m not nearly as, well, busty.”

  “I don’t care about that. I’m sure your bust is just fine. I’d love to see it.”

  “Immediately,” she said. “I fell asleep with my clothes on.” She brought her hands up. “Let me get my shirt open—”

  Both of them froze in mutual horror. “You’ve still got your bra on!” he said. Then, involuntarily, he reached for it.

  “No!” she cried.

  Then she was gone. The shock had awakened her, leaving him alone in the bed. Then it too faded, as it was part of her dream, rather than his. He landed on a cushion of honey.

  Then he woke, and found himself lying beside a different woman. The vila. With no bra.

  She stirred. Hastily he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. Soon enough he was really asleep.

  In the morning Venus got up and washed, unconcerned about whatever he might see. Or maybe she was continuing her effort to seduce him while pretending not to.

  Unfortunately Debra had been correct: her natural body was nothing compared to the splendor of Venus Vila. But fortunately it didn’t matter; he still loved only Debra.

  Later, after breakfast, Venus questioned him. “What happened in the night? I thought you were going to embrace me, but then you pretended to go back to sleep.”

  She was uncannily observant. “I had a bad dream.”

  “So the Night Mares located you. You surely deserved it. What was it?”

  Did it matter? She had a right to know, according to their truce. “I was dreaming of Debra.”

  “Your enchanted enemy agent love, of course. But wouldn’t that have been a good dream?”

  “I was about to see her bare bosom, but it turned out she was wearing her bra.”

  “Which you couldn’t touch, lest it damn you to eternal confinement in the dungeon,” she agreed. “So of course she took it off. Then what? Did she turn out to be breastless?”

  “She reacted automatically, and woke up, disappearing from my dream. So I never got to see it.”

  “You should have taken the Fresh Err from the mantelpiece. That enables a person to undo his last mistake. Or the one beside it, the Err Conditioner. That merely softens the impact of the mistake.”

  “You mean I could have gone back in the dream and told her to remove her bra before she got into bed with me?”

  “Yes. Then you could have fondled her breasts all you wanted without risk.” She paused, inhaling impressively. “I understand that men like that sort of thing.”

  He averted his gaze before his ey
eballs glazed. “Except that the Adult Conspiracy forbids it. She’s underage.”

  “She’s underage? You didn’t mention that before.”

  “I must have overlooked it.”

  “Exactly how old is she?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “Thirteen! She’s a child!” And the vily were especially protective of children.

  “She looks like a woman to me.”

  “You beast. You could have clasped me anytime, but you passed me up for a child?”

  “It seems I did.”

  “That does it. The truce is off. I’m going to destroy you.” She changed into a poisonous snake and struck at his leg. He barely whipped it out of the way in time.

  She became a Mundane bear and reached for him, about to crack his ribs into bone kindling. He ducked and retreated as the huge claws barely missed him.

  Her lovely human form reappeared, gloriously unclothed. His eyeballs started to smart. “But I’ll forgive you if you renounce the child and marry me this instant.”

  His smartest course was to accept. But he couldn’t. He was in love. “No.”

  “Then I’ll toast you and eat you for dinner.” She became a huge fire-breathing dragon.

  “But you’re a vegetarian!” he protested.

  “I’ll make an exception for a child molester.” The dragon’s belly swelled as she inhaled for a horrendous burst of fire.

  He had no choice. He randomly exchanged.

  He found himself in midair with a man on his back. Before either of them could react, they crashed into the rotten upper foliage of a huge zombie tree. Then they slid down through the festering mass of it until they slurped to the ground, landing in a pile of rancid goo. It was disgusting, but soft, so no one was hurt.

  “This is a plumpkin pie,” the man said, tasting a spatter of goo. It made him look fatter already.

  The Factor tramped squishily out of the sludge and looked at the sign beside the tree. It said WAVE WAR MEMORIAL PARK. That figured. A dead tree in a park for the dead people.

  He realized that he had just exchanged places with a flying dragon. He was wondering increasingly whether his random exchanges were truly random, since he had just faced a dragon. Maybe they were random only within certain parameters.

  “Who are you? What happened?” the man asked.

  “That may be complicated to explain. I am the Random Factor.”

  “You!” the man cried. “You changed places with me!”

  “No, I changed places with the dragon. I probably saved you from being eaten.”

  “That was Becka Dragongirl! She was taking me to the Good Magician’s Castle to be with my wife. I’m Hugo. I was locked in your dungeon cell.”

  “Well, now she’s facing Venus Vila. What’s this about your being in my cell?”

  “You escaped by putting me in there. I had an awful struggle getting out.”

  It was beginning to make sense. “My first exchange took me to the Good Magician’s Castle. I exchanged with a middle-aged man. You’re that man.”

  “You bet I’m that man! Have you any idea the mischief you caused?”

  “I got into some mischief of my own. I exchanged with what turned out to be a cloud to get out of there, and finally was free. Only to fall in love with the agent sent to send me back to prison. Now I’m captive in another manner.”

  “You didn’t mean to do anyone any harm?”

  “All I want is to live my own life in my own way, with the girl I love.”

  “But you messed up my love in the process.”

  The case wasn’t worth arguing. “We need to get cleaned up.”

  “On that we agree. I can’t face Wira like this.”

  They trekked through the forest until they found a spring. But they had the caution to observe it before plunging in. Sure enough, a wasp and a butterfly paused to sip at its fringe, and immediately got to work summoning whatever kind of stork bugs did. It was an incidental love spring.

  “Maybe I can do better,” Hugo said. He concentrated, and a huge watermelon appeared before him, followed by another.

  Each of them plunged into a melon, and the water quickly washed off the grime. But they had to forage for new apparel; their old clothing was beyond salvage.

  Then Hugo conjured tasty smaller fruits for them to eat.

  “That’s a nice talent you have,” the Factor said.

  “It helps. Now how am I going to complete my journey, and what’s Becka going to do?”

  “I think Vily Village is not far from here. She should be able to fly back and find us before long.”

  “Vily Village? Is that on the map?”

  “I doubt it. They are very private folk.”

  “Maybe we could go there and they would help us.”

  “That would be risky. One of them wanted to marry me. She might decide to marry you.”

  “But I’m already married.”

  “And I’m in love. She hardly cares. I don’t want to go back there.”

  There was an odd sound. Something was coming. It was a sort of swirl of jingling fragments with wings. Some weird kind of bird.

  “I know that from Father’s reference tomes!” Hugo said. “That’s a jinx! It brings bad luck to whoever it encounters.”

  “I can transfer out of here. What about you?”

  “I’ll hold it off with fruit. Cherry bombs, if I have to.” Small red balls appeared in his hands.

  “Good enough.” But the Factor waited, not wanting to risk a transfer unless quite necessary.

  Hugo threw a cherry at the jinx, but had the bad luck to miss it. He threw another, but this one was also jinxed. Which was to be expected.

  Meanwhile the bird was coming right at them. It was time to go.

  The Factor exchanged.

  He found himself throwing a cherry at a bird. It missed. He was too old and out of condition to aim well. He threw himself to the ground and the bird passed just over his head and went on.

  He sat up. There, sitting beside him, was himself.

  “Oh, no!”

  “What?” the Random Factor asked.

  “Look at your body.”

  The Factor looked. “Oh, no!”

  “Exactly. We have exchanged bodies or identities, however you see it. You’re in my body; I’m in yours.”

  “That jinx! That must have done it.”

  “It must have,” the Factor agreed. “This is new; I haven’t done it before, and didn’t know it was coming. This exchange does neither of us any good. I don’t want your body, and I doubt you want mine.”

  “I agree. Quick, change us back.”

  “I can’t. My exchanges are random and seldom if ever repeat or reverse.”

  “But I can’t return to Wira this way!”

  “And I doubt Debra would understand either.”

  They gazed at each other with mutual dismay. “It seems we have a problem,” Hugo said.

  “We do,” the Factor agreed.

  “Maybe my exchanges with Bathos Bat facilitated my exchange with you. By providing a model for the jinx to invoke.” He explained about the bat.

  “That could be,” the Factor agreed. “My exchanges don’t always seem completely random. But hitherto they were limited to others, or to myself. This is like a fluke cross between them that won’t happen again.”

  “Especially if I’m the one doing them,” Hugo said. “If the talents stay with the bodies.”

  “We had better find out.”

  Something darkened the sky nearby. It was a dragon.

  “All we need now is to be hunted by a dragon,” the Factor said.

  Hugo, in his body, gazed up. “No, that’s Becka, returning to find me. But she won’t recognize me. You had better hail her.”

  “And get toasted? I’ll pass.”

  “She’ll think you’re me. Hail her.”

  The Factor realized that did make sense. He jumped up and waved his arms. “Here, Becka!”

  The dragon spied him and
came gliding down to the ground. “Now I’ll try to explain,” Hugo said. “You’d better introduce me, though.”

  That, too, made sense. The Factor addressed the dragon. “There is a problem. We have exchanged bodies. I am actually the Factor. This is Hugo.” He gestured to the other body.

  The dragon hesitated, then became a young woman. “Is this true?” she asked Hugo.

  “It is true. Do you want some proof of my identity?”

  “Yes.”

  “I tried to contact you when I was a bat. You had me netted and taken out. Then I got Dragoman Dragon to talk to you, and you went and let me out of the dungeon cell. I was naked and dirty. You freaked out when you saw me.”

  “I did not freak out,” she said hotly. Then she smiled. “But you have made your point. The Factor would not know those details. So can you change back?”

  “It is random,” the Factor said. “It would probably be better to find some other way to make the exchange. Maybe the Good Magician would know how.”

  “The Gorgon says his Book of Answers is scrambled. So he can’t help.”

  “Then we seem to be stuck,” Hugo said. “I don’t want to return to Wira like this.”

  “Nor I to Debra,” the Factor said. “Though that is already complicated.”

  “How so?”

  The Factor briefly explained the problem.

  “I wonder,” Becka said. “Could you touch her bra in your present body?”

  The Factor exchanged a surprised glance with Hugo. “I don’t know,” the Factor said. “That depends on whether talents and curses go with the spirit or with the body.”

  She nodded. “Maybe we’d better find out.”

  “But there’s no telling what my random talent will do. It might make the situation even worse.”

  “Then try for Hugo’s talent. That’s relatively harmless.”

  Hugo held up one hand. Nothing happened. “My talent isn’t working.”

  The Factor held up one hand and thought of a grapefruit. A giant grape appeared. He had conjured it.

  “So the talents stay with your bodies,” Becka said. “If the curses do too, then you can be with Debra without worrying about her bra.”

  “But this body is forty-three years old,” the Factor protested. “I’m sure she wouldn’t like it.”

  “And I wouldn’t like my body being with another woman,” Hugo said. “I certainly don’t want to approach Wira in this one. And who knows—I might do something disastrously random and mess things up worse.”