Zora swung the box around to cover them. Both dropped to the ground, stricken. Meanwhile the men set the shackles on Wetzel’s front legs. Now his legs were chained together, hobbling him. Even in his pain, it occurred to him that this was a mistake on the part of the poachers; they should have hobbled his hind legs so he couldn’t kick, or the legs on one side so he couldn’t run.
It did not take the poachers long to make their case, regardless of the language barrier: any resistance by any of the team members would bring immediate box pain to Wetzel. He was hostage for their cooperation.
Veee had to give up her knife, and Tod his gun. It seemed that the poachers had encountered guns before, and knew what they were. Now Veee and Tod too were shackled, their hands bound behind them. Wizard and Vanja had not drawn weapons or made hostile moves, and were left free. That message, too, was plain enough.
Now the poachers considered Wetzel. Frank made a lifting signal with his hands, and when Wetzel did not respond right away, Frank kicked him on the shoulder. Wetzel struggled to get to his feet, precariously balancing on his linked front hoofs.
The four consulted in their opaque language. Wetzel could have picked up their thoughts telepathically, as telepathy was largely independent of surface language, but refrained. He now knew what Zora was their telepath, but wasn’t sure she knew he was the team’s telepath. Why would it be a beast instead of a human? Any use of it at this time would give him away immediately. With luck the poachers figured him for a dumb animal trained to swallow scarabs, a neat way to smuggle them past planetary authorities. She should not know that he had human intelligence, or indeed that he was a shape changer. He kept those items buried in his storm shelter. She could read his superficial mind, which he carefully kept basic: serve man, avoid pain.
Another thing the poachers didn’t know about was their assorted bugs. Certainly they did not know that Wetzel carried a female scarab masked as a ladybug. Zora had been tracking the male scarab telepathically, and knew the instant the scarab entered the fleshly shielding of Wetzel’s body, dimming his access. But that might be most of what she knew. The poachers should figure that the team was looking for scarabs, but that rather than pay for them it proposed to steal them. That would make perfect sense to poachers, who were thieves themselves.
After a brief dialog, Ralph went to the tent and returned with a bag of oats. He sat that down before Wetzel. “Gronk!” he commanded.
Wetzel put his nose down and took a mouthful of oats. Now he understood their strategy: feed him until his digestive process carried the capsule out the other end and they could recover the scarab. That would take about two days. Thereafter they could resume their prior strategy. All they had to do was wait.
Now the poachers considered Tod and Veee. This was exactly what Veee had feared. Mason grabbed Veee’s shoulder, evidently interested in new female flesh, and started to open her shirt to expose her bosom, but Zora snapped a demurral. Wetzel could guess its nature: You men had your fun with the sexy wench. Now it’s my turn. You don’t get the other woman until I’ve had mine with the man. Your turn for guard duty, you slackers.
Grumbling, the three men acceded. Zora caught Tod’s shoulder and tugged him forward.
He balked.
Zora spoke to the men. Frank picked up the pain box. He oriented it on Wetzel.
“Okay, okay,” Tod said. Wetzel could understand him because of the extended Amoeba ambiance that applied to the team. Otherwise Tod too would have been rendered verbally unintelligible. He stepped forward.
Zora nodded. She had made her point. Tod would behave. He would have to perform with his hands tied behind him, but he would perform. She guided him to the tent.
Meanwhile the three poacher men gazed on Vanja, who gazed back, and Veee, who did not. They talked among themselves, evidently comparing the visible qualities of the two women. Now that Zora was not watching, Mason went again to draw aside Veee’s shirt. He opened it wide, so that both breasts showed clearly.
There was an exclamation from the tent. Mason’s hand snapped away. Zora was watching telepathically.
Still, now the three men had a solid basis for comparison. They looked back and forth between the two woman, making comments. Vanja was amused; Veee wasn’t.
There was another outcry from the tent. This time Zora emerged in dishabille, furiously scratching herself. She had burning red welts on her bottom. It seemed she had encountered a nest of fire ants.
Vanja and Veee kept straight faces. Tod’s insect friends had struck.
Compelled by Zora, the three men got to work beating the ground around and inside the tent. Then they took down the tent and moved it to another site. There was no further sign of ants. Evidently it had been a fluke.
Now Wetzel noticed something about the three men. All were absentmindedly scratching. It seemed that they had recently encountered a swarm of mosquitoes, and been thoroughly bitten while distracted. Vanja’s mosquitoes. The mere touch of Wetzel’s horn could have ameliorated all their itches, but it seemed they didn’t know about unicorns, and the team would not tell them.
Zora put salve on her welts. It seemed she had not gotten satisfaction from Tod before getting stung. The coincidence of the occurrence had turned her off Tod, but she remained determined to have her turn. She eyed Wizard.
But the day was late, so the poachers let that be. They raided the team’s packs, rousting out food for the evening meal, and shared it with their captives. After all, they had time to pass, and they wanted the two women handy, and perhaps also the two men.
As night fell, the poachers set up turns for guard duty. Tod and Veee were told by gestures to sleep on the ground and not try to escape, because Zora was tracking them. Zora held the pain box and stayed near Wetzel while Frank took Vanja into the tent. It seemed that Vanja was still allowed; it was Veee who had to wait on Zora’s satisfaction. That was the poacher’s compromise.
An hour later Frank emerged and Ralph went in. An hour after that Mason went in. Vanja was giving them all excellent service, but somehow they were scratching worse than ever.
Then Frank took the pain box and Zora took the tent, alone. Ralph and Mason made hay mats on the ground and slept on them. After an hour Frank passed the box along to Ralph and settle for sleep himself. They were thieves and rapists, but they had discipline where it counted; they never stopped watching Wetzel and the team members.
Meanwhile Wetzel’s oats were coursing through his system. He knew that in hours he would have to defecate out that capsule. He would have to escape before then.
In the morning, after breakfast, Zora decided: it was time for Wizard. The men had been getting increasingly impatient for access to Veee, so Zora had to act. Her ant welts had subsided after giving her a night of pain. She was not in a good mood. She took Wizard into the tent.
Would Wizard use his brown recluse spider? Its bite was said to be severe, sometimes lethal. Or would he prefer to wait?
There was an exclamation from the tent. Zora emerged again, this time rubbing her neck. There was a pinpoint sore there, rapidly becoming a welt. Then she dropped to her knees.
The men rushed to her, but were not able to help her. She collapsed unconscious.
She had been bitten by the brown recluse spider, and was having a serious reaction.
With the telepath out for the time being, Wetzel was free to use his own telepathy. That brought bad news.
The three brothers were concerned for their sister, but not to the point of serious alarm. They were discussing using the temporary reprieve from her authority to rape Veee. Zora had after all had her chance at the men.
Worse, if Zora did not recover soon, they would know this mission was jinxed and wrap it up immediately. They would kill their captives, slaughter the unicorn and cut out the capsule containing the scarab.
The team members could stop this, but only by giving away their other abilities. So they waited.
First the poachers tied Tod’s manacled hands to a tree so that he c
ould not interfere. They used ordinary cord to tie Vanja similarly, not trusting her to stay clear. Then Frank grabbed Veee from behind. Ralph dragged down her pants. She tried to kick him, but Mason grabbed her legs. Vanja seemed uncertain. She could escape her bonds and intercede, but only by giving away her nature.
Wetzel did not need to see more. He transformed to human, slipped the shackles off his suddenly thinned wrists, and transformed back immediately. He was free, unobserved, and still a unicorn. It had never occurred to the poachers that he could be a shape changer.
He ran to the tent, where Wizard was just emerging. Mount! Wetzel projected. Wizard scrambled on.
Frank and Ralph had Veee bare, her breasts heaving with her struggles, her legs held well apart. Mason was dropping his own pants.
Vanja, guided by Wetzel’s example, transformed to bat, readily slipped her bonds, and reverted to human form so rapidly that the poachers would not know what happened unless they were looking directly at her. They weren’t. So they did not know her secret either. They were focused on Veee as Mason closed on her, ducking down to come up between her spread legs. They were all turned on.
“Ho, varlets!” Wizard called.
Frank turned his head to look. He gaped. Then the other two looked. All three men were belatedly catching on that somehow the unicorn had slipped his bonds. Frank let go of Veee and dived for the pain box, but Vanja got there first. She swooped it up and aimed it at the men. They gaped at her too.
Nothing happened. She didn’t know how to turn it on. Annoyed, she hurled it into the brush.
“Get the gun!” Wizard called. “Get the knife!”
Vanja knew exactly where they were. She fetched them while Wetzel menaced the poachers with his horn. That was no bluff; he could readily kill the first one to make a hostile move.
Meanwhile Veee recovered her pants and managed to work them on by leaning her back against a tree trunk for balance while she held them behind her feet. It was clumsy, but worked. Wetzel noticed in passing how she had not freaked out or dissolved into tears; she had kept her head and acted the moment she could. Neither had Tod bothered with pointless protests or threats; he had seen Wetzel and Vanja acting, and waited on their help. Nervy people, all.
Vanja went to Tod and in moments untied him from the tree. She couldn’t free him of the shackles, but at least now he could move.
“Run!” Tod said to Veee. The two of them ran, hands still bound behind their backs. Vanja followed with the weapons.
Once the others were clear, Wetzel could follow them. He eyed the poachers. Kill them? he asked Wizard.
“There is no need,” Wizard replied. “We’re not murderers, and they’re just one fragment of an ugly swarm of thieves. We can’t do anything about the larger problem. We’ve got what we came for. Leave them behind. They’ve got enough of a problem with Zora, who will probably require medical care.”
Wetzel was relieved. He could kill, and had done so before, but he didn’t like it. He turned and galloped after the others.
In moments he caught up. Tod and Veee had slowed to a walk, as running with their hands behind them was wearing.
Vanja returned Veee’s knife to her, sheathing it in a pouch hidden in her pants. Then she fitted Tod’s gun into a holster on his back. They still couldn’t use their weapons, but at least they had recovered them.
“Keep moving,” Wizard called. “I foolishly spared the poachers, and they may come after us.” He wasn’t blaming Wetzel for their joint decision.
The poachers did indeed pursue them. Wetzel realized why: they wanted the male scarab. Greed overwhelmed any fear they might have, and they still didn’t know how Wetzel and Vanja had freed themselves. They had no gratitude for being spared, merely contempt for the lack of nerve displayed.
Vanja changed and flew back. Soon she had a report: They are gaining rapidly. They’ll catch us before we reach the trail.
Wizard smiled. “We are prepared. Remember your illusion penetrating technique.”
They came to the quicksand bog. Then it disappeared, becoming more rocky hills, as before.
Could you simply make us invisible? Wetzel thought.
“Not readily. The scene is a set piece. We are moving targets I would have to fix on individually. I would lose control over the other illusion.”
They focused, and the bog became apparent. They made their way around it, carefully, not hurrying. They needed to know exactly where they put each foot.
The three poachers caught up to the brink of the bog. They saw the fleeing party not far ahead. With a cry of victory they plunged on.
Into the bog. All three of them.
Wetzel looked back. He saw the three men floundering in the seemingly solid ground. The illusion did not cover them, just the land. It was weird.
He put his foot down on a stone, and his ankle turned. Pain shot up his leg, and he almost fell before he caught himself and balanced on the three other legs. Oh, no!
The others, alerted by the flash of pain in his mind, closed in around him. “You can’t walk on that,” Vanja said. “Can you change to human form so you can use just your hind legs?”
No. That would not shield the male scarab sufficiently when we traverse the Amoeba.
“Ouch.”
“Can you use your horn to heal yourself?” Veee asked.
No. I can heal others, not myself.
“Wizard?” Veee asked.
“I could help, but only if I let the illusion lapse.”
“That’s not yet safe,” Tod said.
MaleBug is almost ready to mate, LadyBug reported. I feel his growing urgency. Oh, I want to be there for him!
And Wetzel’s system was almost ready to pass the capsule out. It would have been timed perfectly, if only he had not been foolishly distracted and hurt himself. Now he could walk only three footed.
“MaleBug? Vanja asked. “Maybe that does make sense.”
Wizard dismounted. “Magic is not always the answer. We need a splint.”
They foraged and found suitable sections of wood. Wizard and Vanja worked together to fashion the splint and tie it on with cloth from Veee’s shirt.
Wetzel tried putting his foot down. It seemed to be able to bear weight, but was still painful.
“I don’t like doing this, as it could facilitate injury,” Wizard said. “But I will fashion a pain block. That’s minimal magic.”
The pain faded from the ankle. Now Wetzel could walk normally.
“But be careful,” Veee cautioned. “Treat it as if it still hurts.”
That was good advice. Wetzel took a few steps, favoring the foot though it no longer hurt. He knew the pain was there, and treated it with respect.
“And I will walk,” Wizard said.
“We may need more of your magic,” Veee said. “You must save your strength. I will carry you.”
Wetzel looked at her with surprise. Was she joking? For one thing, she remained manacled.
Then she stooped, and Wizard draped himself over her shoulder. She straightened up and walked. She was a woman, and her hands were bound, but she was doing the job.
They moved on, not as fast as they would have preferred, but adequately. The poachers, having extricated themselves from the bog, still faced the illusion. They couldn’t see to pursue effectively. Maintaining the illusion had been the correct decision.
Then something else happened. Female scarabs appeared, flying in from all around. They came to land on Wetzel.
The breeding! LadyBug thought. They are aware of the potential, as I am. Oh, I don’t want to lose him!
Wetzel hadn’t considered this aspect. You have been helping us to locate and rescue him. That surely counts for something.
It does. We have been in touch. MaleBug likes me. He wants to breed me. But if there are others, he has to consider them too. He has to be fair.
There were dozens of scarabs clinging to his coat. Refuge would need a population of mature scarabs. So this was good. But he did f
eel for LadyBug.
And for himself. LadyBug, you have been my constant companion these past few days. You enhance my powers. With you, I can send as well as read. You are also a virgin. I love our mock sex sessions! I wish I could keep you with me.
I wish I could stay with you too. It is wonderful the way you enhance me, and I love being your mock lover. But my destiny is to breed if I possibly can manage it.
Of course, he agreed. I want you to fulfill your destiny, as I wish I could fulfill mine. Then he got an idea. LadyBug, if you go to Refuge with MaleBug, and you breed with him, that’s wonderful for you though sad for me. But if he should breed with one of the others, you could return to the Amoeba to be with me again.
She considered. I will do that, Wetzel. It is better than dying unfulfilled.
They reached the Amoeba trail. Wetzel walked toward it.
“Haaa!” it was the verbal and mental cry of victory.
It was Zora. Wetzel read her mind. She had recovered from the spider bite enough to treat herself medically, and then recovered enough strength to go after them herself. Sheer willpower had driven her. The bog illusion was gone and she had caught up.
She turned on the pain box she had searched out in the brush. Wetzel froze in place, locked in sheer pain.
The other team members froze similarly. They were all immobilized by pain. They were all captive. Again. Along with MaleBug and all the female scarabs. All of them were trying to repel the poacher, but Zora’s hardened immunity prevailed.
Then Wetzel rose into the air. He floated past open-mouthed Zora, who simply could not believe what she was seeing. He landed on the end of the trail, and the pain abated.
Wizard had used his levitation magic to carry Wetzel across the line, saving the day.
Then, as Wetzel watched, Zora herself floated up above head height. And abruptly dropped to the ground. The pain box flew from her hand and bounced across the terrain.
At that point the others stepped forward to join Wetzel on the trail. Veee was still carrying Wizard.
They gazed at Zora, who evidently could not see them. She was battered but not seriously hurt. And in a bewildered rage. Her recaptured prey had done something impossible, then vanished. She couldn’t understand it.