"It happens to be my particular talent—the unusual revelation," Hweeh said. "I wish I could face my own realization of astronomy that sends me into shock." He paused, his eyeball wavering. "Do you suppose I could be cured by the application of an aura higher than yours?"
Now Herald considered. "Next time the Lady's demon manifests, we shall have to interview you," he said.
"Thank you. Knowing myself as I do, I suspect that what is in my mind is quite important. It behooves us to ascertain its nature."
"Now tell us the rest of the legend of Psyche," the girl said.
"It really is not important. Psyche begged Venus for help, not realizing the identity of her enemy, and the irate goddess forced her to perform a number of very arduous and hazardous tasks. But eventually Cupid recovered, and helped Psyche accomplish these. In the end she was given immortality and allowed to remain forever with Cupid. She bore him a child named Pleasure. As far as I know, it is still a happy Solarian godly family." Hweeh bobbed his eyestalk. "At any rate, you see how much of you I know through your name."
"A child named Pleasure..." Psyche repeated, and smiled knowingly.
5
Duke of Qaval
E Site animation. E
& Details. &
E Location: Galaxy Milky Way, Segment Etamin. Nature: evocation of ancient machine aura, temporary. Specific locale uncertain. E
& You are certain it was not a contemporary-culture machine aura generation? &
E The pattern corresponded closely to the ancient code. Possible confusion, but unlikely. E
& Then key the signature of evocation to its site, and you will have the specific planet. &
E Unable. No records of site-signatures available for keying. Need direct site observation. E
& No records! &
X True. All records beyond 10,000 cycles wiped for economy reasons. Our fleets must travel light. X
& Idiocy! We need those records. Well, assign action unit. &
0 Action unit 2, orient on that Segment. 0
2 Oriented. 2
Now that the Enemy Witness was gone, it was no longer proper for Herald to sleep in the Lady's chamber. He moved into his own room, where he could exercise without disturbing the household. He transferred back to his own Slash body in Andromeda briefly to put his concerns in order and abate his schedule of assignments and make application for Cluster sanction of his marriage to Psyche. But mainly he oriented on Planet Keep and Kastle Kade, for his future home base had to be here. It was agreed that after the marriage he would have his natural Slash body mattermitted here. Psyche wanted it that way, and was sure she would not be revolted. She was eager to travel with him in Transfer, too, but her range was much more limited than his, and until the mystery of her variable aura was understood it seemed best to keep her home.
Immediate chores completed, he returned to his Solarian host and rode on a fine wheelhorse from the Palace of Crown to Kastle Kade. It was like coming home. Too bad there was no Transfer unit here—but Psyche was enough.
One night he woke to find her in his room, standing silently by his bed in a gauzy white nightie. She looked a bit like a ghost, but an extremely feminine one, for she stood between him and the moonlit window. Solarians, he had discovered the easy way, were visually stimulated, and the half-suggested outline of the female form was potent.
He sat up quickly. "Psyche! Are you—?"
"No," she said sadly. "I am not enhanced. I am only the normal me, low aura." Of course, 25 was not low at all; it only seemed that way after 250. "I thought—I just—oh, Herald, suppose I never manifest again?"
He took her into his arms, and then into his bed. It would have been the height of cruelty to deny her, and he really did find her most desirable as she was, nadir aura and all.
The nobles of Keep arrived in force for the wedding. They came in horse-drawn carriages, richly garbed. Each wore his Coat of Arms, which was the Shield of Arms embroidered on the cloth of a tunic. Herald, as the groom, had to stand beside the Duke of Kade and suffer inspection by each guest, a tedious chore, except for his professional interest in their diversity.
"Duke of Qaval," the doorman announced, superfluously for Herald, who was quite familiar with the general arms of Segment Qaval. A tall, bold figure strode in. He was manlike, with short stout legs showing green under the hem of his tunic, powerful green arms, and a thick scaly tail. His head was reptilian, with projecting snout and a huge slash of a mouth suggestive of the predators of Lake Donny. In short, a handsome specimen of the dominant species of that Segment.
"So glad you could come, Qaval," Kade said grimly. Herald knew this was a leading member of the enemy coalition, the entity to whom Whirl of Dollar owed allegiance. The force behind the move to burn Psyche.
"Couldn't miss the chance to survey your fortifications, Kade," Qaval replied with the smile of a crocodile.
"Meet Herald of Slash, the expert exorcist you inflicted upon me, now to be my son-in-law." Meaning: We have subverted your agent.
Qaval's small eye glared coldly down on Herald as the enemy Duke extended his claw. "My compliments on an apt maneuver," he said, speaking from the side of his mouth so that his huge triangular teeth barely showed.
Herald merely nodded his head, uncertain to whom the ironic compliment was addressed. The nobles of Planet Keep played hard politics! But on this occasion the weapons were left behind, and only carefully selected words could be used for the fencing.
"Marquis of Roundabout," the doorman said, and a Polarian entered. The creature was shaped like a giant candy drop, with a tapering tentacle above and a spherical wheel below. Because Polarians used their skin surface for perception and some communication, the Marquis wore only token clothing, a band of cloth embroidered with his Coat of Arms: an Achievement symbolic of debt exchange, within the Polarian Spherical Circle, within the Dragon of Segment Etamin, within the outline of the Milky Way Shield.
The Polarian touched Kade's hand with the little ball in the end of his trunk, then touched Herald's hand. "May this resolve the conflict," the ball said, vibrating Herald's flesh to make the sound. "It has been an uncircular matter."
So there was one enemy noble who preferred to avoid trouble! Maybe there were others. Still, there was no question the grudge remained. Perhaps because of the mischief wrought by Psyche's mother, the whole planet was watching Psyche.
"Chief of Skot." This was a Solarian, a man about Kade's age and girth, wearing a tartan. This would be the father of the Scion of Skot, who had been mentioned as a possible suitor for Psyche. Well, that situation had changed!
"Viscount of Number." This was a Sador, like the Earl of Dollar, but of higher rank.
Then, arriving late, a very special entity: "Prince Circlet of Crown." A Sador prince, the only guest who ranked the Dukes of Kade and Qaval, and the prime mover in the opposition. The enemy leaders were here in force!
"The Prince does this castle honor," Kade murmured, making a formal bow. He seemed a bit overwhelmed.
"I am well aware of that," Circlet snapped, and rolled on. The royalty of Sphere Sador had never acclimatized to the dissipation of power of a once-mighty empire.
The wedding itself was a ponderous formality that annoyed and bored Herald, who was accustomed to using his time efficiently. Heraldry was a good survival of medieval times; these other customs should have been allowed to remain defunct. The castle servants garbed him to their satisfaction and guided him through the motions. But he felt better when he spied the Duke of Kade looking just as glum, though perhaps the man had different reason. The forms had to be followed, but who in his right mind could enjoy them?
Nevertheless, Psyche was beautiful—she really was!—like a jewel shining amid the ornate dullness. There were, after all, virtues other than mere aura, and she had them all.
At last the real celebration: the banquet. Now the seriousness abated and the camaraderie began. Liquor in its various guises flowed freely, causing antagonisms to fade into the
background. Prime wheels of Sador beef rolled around the table, until only the metallic bones remained. Herald saw the Duke of Qaval's formidable teeth ripping off long shreds of half-raw flesh: there was a true carnivore! What a terror those teeth must be in battle! But even Prince Circlet seemed to be enjoying himself, setting his steak on a sterile mat on the floor and shredding it with his feeding wheel and sucking up the fragments. When a pretty little Sador serving wench brought desert—mounds of quivering gelatin derived from the large bones of freshly slaughtered animals, topped with wheelcow cream in the initial stage of spoilage—the Prince hooked her wheel suggestively, in full view of the throng. She spun off a squeal as his rim touched her intimate axle and almost dropped the tray on his top wheel. Even the circumspect Polarian noble glowed in color for an instant at this good-natured indecency, and the long, long lip of Qaval curled momentarily. These entities never let a little warlike disharmony interfere with the basic pleasures of life.
After the banquet, the ball. Musicians played the themes of different species, and creatures circulated in conversation, dancing, and innocuous competition. Psyche was much in demand as a dancing partner, and not merely by those in Solarian form. The Polarian Marquis did a minuet with her, executed very prettily, and then the Duke of Qaval took her, putting his reptilian snout right up against her pale-blue cheek and using his tail to assist in intricate turns. Finally the Prince of Crown himself joined her in a free-form endeavor, spinning grandly about on his wheels while she pirouetted in counterpoint. It was quite artistic. One thing the leisure class of Keep had mastered well was the art of diversion.
Whirl of Dollar, back in the company of his compatriots, nudged up beside Herald as he watched.
"Do not feel out of alignment," the little Sador murmured. "They are verifying that she is not possessed. My Lord Qaval feels that my report was exaggerated, and does not want war on a fallacious pretext."
Oh. In that case, let them dance with his wife all they wanted! There was no demon aura present.
The nobles did not neglect Herald himself. The Duke of Qaval strode up with a mug of distillate in one claw, and wished him hearty congratulations. Then, in a lower tone: "Will you permit a personal observation?" The reptile noble had a strong aura of about sixty. It was easy to believe that Qaval was one of the leading combat knights.
"Permitted," Herald agreed guardedly. He was very curious to know what really motivated these enemies. Surely they did not believe they had a genuine case against Psyche.
"We of Qaval have long been devotees of the Temple of Tarot, and of the animation connected with it. does this fall within your sphere of talent?"
"It does," Herald said. "As a healer, I have necessarily studied many related disciplines, though I am not a literal devotee of the Temple."
"A fair response! My concern is why an entity such as you, of high aura and skill, should conjoin with a client of comparatively low aura."
A trap? Herald marched right into it. "She is not always of low aura, Duke. At times she manifests a higher Kirlian than I. But this is not Possession; it is enhancement of her natural aura. Or perhaps her lower aura is the nether cycle of a widely fluctuating Kirlian force. In that respect, she is my natural mate."
"How can you be sure it is natural?"
"You touched her. Found you any indication that she has ever been possessed?"
"None. And this is what confuses me. Our Witness reports that she has manifested supernaturally, but he might be mistaken. You were our hired expert. Had you reported no manifestation, we should have been satisfied. Instead you marry her—on the basis of that very quality."
"Yes. Your suspicion was at least partly valid. The manifestation is genuine, but there is no threat such as you experienced with her mother."
"I prefer to believe that you distort the case."
"Sir?" Herald inquired stiffly.
"That you became enamored of the Lady and her style of life, one that must be quite enticing to an entity from a downtrodden Sphere of a subject Galaxy. So you justified your liaison by perceiving in her a more potent aura than in fact exists. In this fashion you had a hold on Kade, who would never otherwise have unbent sufficiently to yield his daughter to such a union. Rather than submit her to verification of your claim at our claws, he suffered her to be allied to you."
"There are dueling swords available, if you care to oblige," Herald said tightly.
Qaval affected not to hear him. "Certainly a creature like you would not actually marry an entity who posed any potential threat to you or your livelihood. And a female who is no threat to her alien husband can hardly be a threat to her world. Therefore we seem to have no case against the Lady Kade."
Suddenly Herald understood. The Duke was offering a rationale that would effectively terminate any suspicion of Psyche, despite Whirl's report!
"There may be merit in your view," Herald said gratefully.
"However, if there needs must be a duel—"
The enemy Duke would have his mouthful of flesh! "I meant only to admire the caliber of decorative weapons, so rarely seen these days," Herald said. It was in effect a groveling apology.
"Even so." Qaval smiled with twoscore teeth. "I have reason to believe the Prince will concur. We are a peaceful planet where many species coexist in harmony, and Kade's fortifications are impressive. We never wanted war. It was necessary merely that we be quite certain that the mother was not echoed in the daughter. Our precautions may have appeared extreme, but—"
"I understand completely," Herald said. "You have many powerful and hostile auras on this planet. They must be controlled. My own existence was very nearly terminated by one such rampaging animal. No precaution is too extreme."
Qaval nodded gravely and drifted away. The party continued unabated, as savage in its fashion as a battle. Herald finally wangled a dance with his bride.
"You make me jealous," he murmured in her shell-blue ear. "All the royalty seeks your company."
"But I seek only yours," she said, holding him close. "Though I am not certain about you. I saw you eyeing that cutewheeled serving wench—"
"Oh? Which one?" he asked, glancing around.
"Just how many did you eye?" she demanded severely. But she couldn't hold the expression, and abruptly kissed him.
There was a general exclamation from many entities, as of the sight of something naughty. "Oh, shut up, lechers!" she cried at them all, smiling.
Circlet of Crown did not like being upstaged. There were no Sador wenches immediately handy to be goosed. "Let's play a game," the Prince suggested loudly, rolling off his disk of fermented grainmalt intoxicant. He had evidently sucked up several dishes too many. But no one could afford to ignore or rebut even the drunken word of the Prince. "Hide and Quest!"
This was so old a game it seemed to date from the period of the Ancients; every Sphere had its variants. "Everybody hide—and the bride and groom are IT!" Prince Circlet continued. And he rolled wavily off. "Block your wheels for five minutes," he called back as he left the room. "Give us time!"
Kade shook his head. "Just what I need! Drunken enemies all over my castle. If any one of them hurts himself, a diplomatic incident!" But even he could not deny the Prince. He departed, seeking a suitable place to hide.
Suddenly Herald was alone with his wife. "Five minutes? Let's give them five hours," he suggested, taking Psyche in his arms again.
She yielded gladly, moving into a kiss of considerable depth. She might look like a child from a moderate distance, but she had a woman's instincts! Yet something was subtly wrong.
He concentrated, zeroing in on that wrongness. It was not a matter of wedding-day tension, for she was relaxed and joyous. Hardly any other person would have noticed it at all, but this involved aura, and he was the Kirlian expert.
Aura—that was it! Her aura was rising. It was now about thirty-five, ten intensities above her norm.
She drew back. "What is it my love?"
"The enemy is satisfied.
They no longer oppose you, believing that I'd never marry a demon. They think it is the wealth of Kade I desire."
"So?" she said, delightful in her certainty that he had no interest in any material thing except her. Which was close enough to the truth. Herald was not yet rich, but he was getting there.
"But now your aura is strengthening," he said, worried. "If they become aware—"
"I will not hide!" she exclaimed. "We shall go to the Prince and show him! There is no harm in me."
"The Prince is drunk!"
"Then let him think my aura is the result of his besotment! But let it be open. My aura won you; I want all Planet Keep to know."
Herald sighed. If she really wanted to show off her demon aura, he would not be able to restrain her. "Maybe that's best. Actually what you have is a variable aura, a cyclic intensity. None of that type has been known before, so perhaps it is a mutation, but it is not inherently strange. If they see that even at the height there is no alien Possession...."
"Come! We have to seek them out anyway. We shall show my aura to every creature in this castle!" And she drew him eagerly by the hand.
Creatures were scattered all over the premises. One by one they routed them out, and Psyche touched each. "See? My aura is stronger, because I am married to the King of Aura." And one by one, startled as much by her illogic as the fact, the higher-aura entities agreed.
In the course of an hour, Psyche's aura rose to 135, but it was obvious to all that she had not changed. Herald was increasingly nervous, however. He wished the enhancement had occurred after the guests were safely departed. This was a touchy situation, like a firebrand hovering near dry tinder. Maybe it would not touch, but distance was preferable.
But the Duke of Qaval remained hidden, and so did Prince Circlet of Crown. "They must be together," Herald conjectured. "The Prince would have chosen his own location, and the Duke stayed with him to be sure he didn't hurt himself. But where can they be?"
"It's a big castle, with many crannies," Psyche said. "But I know them all. They shall not escape us!" And she led him on, intent on the fun of the game. Ah, the exuberance of her youth!