Chapter 5: CrisesChapter 5: Crises
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no suspicion. Anyone who checks her mind will quickly move on, seeing immediately that there is nothing useful there."
"But Gale must know everything I know! I trust her beyond all others."
She shook her head. "Sire, when the real Gale returns, she will have to have a stone; she already knows too much. We will develop a pretext. But for now, she is nothing more than your incidental creature of passion. No stone."
"I don't like this."
"You don't like being king, either, Sire. This is part of that. Do you want to consult with Ennui, Aspect, or Chief?"
"No. I know what they will say." He glanced at Throe, who was as always in the background.
"Sire, the king's lover normally has no need for any but physical protection," Throe said.
Havoc sighed. "Suppose I am not naturally aroused by her? Sexual interest is difficult to fake."
"That will not be a problem, Sire."
"How can you be sure? I don't even know who she will be. You bitches have not informed me."
"We feel it is better that you not know, Sire, so as to maintain the pretense more naturally."
"I wear the cursed crown. My mind will not be spied on. Who is she?"
"Sire, you are being difficult."
"Who?"
"Sire, you compel me to answer, against my better judgment. The Mistress of the Royal Bath."
The girl who washed him. He liked her, perhaps because aspects of her reminded him of Gale. "But she's a child!"
"She's a woman child of sixteen, Sire, whose hair and eyes are close to Gale's own, and whose body is excellent. Her presence gives you an erection that endures as long as she is touching you. Our only problem, now being handled, is substituting another girl to emulate her."
He was weakening. "Suppose she doesn't want to be my lover?"
"Sire, no woman doesn't want to be your lover. In any event, she agreed to undertake the mission, knowing its special aspects, so you are not imposing on her."
"But she won't even know she's not Gale."
"Which will spare her the anguish of anticipating separation from you."
"And when Gale returns?"
She shrugged. "Sacrifices have to be made, Sire, in the interest of ac-198 Key to Havoc
complishing the king's purposes."
"The hell! I don't want to treat any woman that way."
"Then get realistic, Sire. Will Gale accede to your maintenance of a secondary lover?"
That set him back. But of course Gale was on tour as part of a troupe doing a sexual play, and if she had to have sex elsewhere, she would do it.
She
would understand. Also, Gale might have to travel again, and it would be best to maintain an alternate to take her place, so that her absence was never noted.
The substitute girl would not have to be cruelly dumped, just made intermit-tent. "I think so."
"Then the matter stands resolved, Sire. Now I think it is time for her to join you."
"Now?" he asked, suddenly nervous.
"Sire, she will be with you by preference whenever you allow it, content to remain in the background except when you take overt note of her. She will not interfere with your kingly business. And for the duration, when you get an erection, you will not have to let it go to waste."
"Spoken like an experienced king's lover," he remarked wryly.
"Of course, Sire. I will be along to see that she maintains the proper semblance, and to advise her when she has doubts."
"Doubts?"
"Sire, magic inculcates the belief in identity, but in time it can wear thin, and the underlying identity can begin to rise. Constant reassurance of the surface identity can maintain it longer. We will not be able to enhance her magically while in the field, so it is best to care well for the semblance."
"You seem to have this pretty well figured out."
"King Deal had to go into the field on occasion, Sire, when it was not expedient for me to accompany him. I have had experience."
"Deal couldn't travel with his wife?"
"Sire, the queen does not normally go into the field."
"They were estranged?"
"They had an understanding, Sire. Aspect loved him, but was no longer sexually appealing to him."
This bothered him in another way. "I think she is a good woman."
She arched an eyebrow under her veil. "Since when, Sire, does that relate to sex appeal?"
He was outclassed, when it came to kingly affairs. "So I must be with the bath girl now. What will I do with her?"
She laughed, and Throe joined in. He had made an idiotic statement.
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"Your schedule, according to Lady Ennui, allows leeway of an hour before the royal tour commences. I suggest, Sire, that you take advantage of the time to get used to her, so that there will be no awkwardness in public."
"Awkwardness?"
"If you seek to kiss her, Sire, and she is coincidentally turning away from you, others could notice and wonder. You must be thoroughly used to her mannerisms, and she to yours, so that it is clear you have long been close associates."
"Good point. You know, Gale is no wet rag. If I cross her, she lets me know it. Can the girl--"
"That has been factored in, Sire. Are you ready?"
Havoc felt nervous again. "I guess so."
Symbol snapped her fingers, and stepped back. In a moment Gale appeared. She must have returned early from the mission. "Gale!" he exclaimed, opening his arms to welcome her.
She stepped neatly into his embrace. "It's about time, Havoc," she murmured in his ear. "Why did you keep me waiting?"
No, it wasn't Gale. The embrace was not quite right, and neither was the voice. But they had done a remarkable job with her appearance. If it had fooled him for a moment, it would fool others much longer. "Sorry. I couldn't get away from Symbol."
"Here's how." She raised her head to look at Symbol. "I'll take it from here, Chroma woman."
Symbol retreated without a word. Havoc was impressed. That was just about the way Gale would have done it. Someone had evidently studied her carefully, in the brief time she had been here. "So I see."
"Havoc, I'm worn out with all this civilized stuff. I just want to forget it for an hour."
"Oh? What did you have in mind?"
"Let's find out." She nudged him toward the bedroom chamber. Again, it wasn't quite like Gale, but was close enough. No one in the civilized realm could know Gale the way he did, and that was just as well.
They entered the bedroom. Throe remained outside. Havoc picked her up and carried her to the bed. She caught his face with hers, kissing him avidly. Not the same, but--
But this would never work if he kept comparing her to the real Gale.
She was a lovely and shapely young woman regardless, and he was interested, regardless. In moments they were naked and plunging into contacts. But it was different, for she did not know Gale's favored little moves, and was trying
200 Key to Havoc
too hard to follow his lead. She thought she was Gale, but was missing aspects.
So he did what he had to do, and guided her, channeling her into Gale's ways. But he could no longer even try to deceive himself about her identity.
This was the bath girl, trying to be what she was not, yet almost pathetically eager to please him. And when he thought of her that way, he wanted her to succeed, for she was guiltless in this charade. She was trying to serve the king,
and he had to enable her to do that well.
After the imperfect yet sufficient culmination, they lay on the bed and talked. Gently he set her hands on his body the way Gale did at such times.
"Do you remember the first time we played Tickle & Peek?" he asked.
"Yes." But she couldn't, because only the two of them knew of it. So he filled it in for her, as necessary background. "I was ten, you were nine. I thought you were pretty. But you didn't want to play. Then you changed your mind, and we played."
"Yes." She was paying close attention.
"I think you changed your mind when I said I just hoped we could be friends. You had thought that all I wanted to do was Peek. And I did, but I wanted more. You and I were somehow different from the others, and I thought we might truly understand each other. When you realized that I was telling the truth, you agreed to do it."
"Yes."
"You put your arms on your head, like this." He set her arms there. "I tickled you like this." He stroked a single finger across her bare ribs. "And you laughed and kicked your legs so high that I saw everything below your skirt. I knew you had done it on purpose, for you could have minimized your reaction if you had wanted to. You were never even ticklish, unless you chose to be; it was some time before I realized that. You were always generous to me, even as a child."
"Yes."
"Then it was your turn to Tickle, and you got to Touch where I had Peeked." He guided her hand to his crotch. "It was awfully ticklish, but you didn't do it much. You told me I could go Tell. But I said I really just wanted
to talk. And then you kissed me." He kissed her, gently, as he had kissed the child Gale. Now that the sex was done, he could do that, and mean it. "And I think I loved you in that moment, and ever since. After that we were always together when we could be, sharing everything we could. We were interested in each other's bodies, of course, and we liked the companionship, but it was so much more than that. We two were one, in all the ways we could fathom."
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"Yes!" They kissed again, and again. And, slowly, it developed into not so much another act of sex, but an act of love. He had shown her, and she had understood, and become much more like the girl he loved. Which was of course the point of this exercise, though it also saddened him, because he could not quite forget that this wasn't really Gale.
He told her more, including the episodes of the spider and the attempted rape, but not about the dragon Mentor. Her memory could betray the secret of the dragon seeds, and their development of mind masking that did not require magic. He told how they were ready to marry, when he was hauled away to be king, and how he wished the two of them could just go back to Village Trifle and disappear into employment, marriage, and family.
"I want to too," she said, "Havoc, I love you." And the seed did not buzz. That made him feel guilty, for the betrayal of this innocent girl's love.
When the spell wore off, when the real Gale returned, what then?
Their hour was almost up. Ennui appeared, knocking on the door and pausing just long enough to allow them to cover up, as he had told her to do.
"Get dressed, Havoc; you have work to do."
"And then came Mother Ennui," he muttered, throwing off the cover and getting to his feet, naked. Gale2, seeing his example, did the same, though
she was understandably surprised. He noted on one level that she was if anything slightly fuller fleshed than Gale, but not quite as firm. It buttressed
his belief that there was no other woman as truly well formed as Gale. They went to be quickly washed by the current bath squad and dressed by the clothing squad, while Ennui followed, referring to her notes as she clarified the itinerary. She ignored the ministrations of the bath girls, though they performed some rather intimate cleaning procedures, especially on the woman.
After sex, such things were necessary, he realized, if there were to be no subsequent embarrassment. Gale2 understood on a level that Gale herself might have had more trouble with: the king and his consort did not handle their own private hygiene. But it clarified just how experienced the girls were
in the procedures of sex; they might not have done it, but they understood it in
detail.
Nevertheless, he remained unused to being handled by girls, and it didn't help that the new Girl One was just as pretty in the face as the other, and had
a phenomenal lower section. He had just had sex, twice, but his member was rising again. Not that anyone seemed to notice.
"First you will travel by floating coach to the Green Chroma," Ennui said, reading from her notes, "to inspect the fringe of the Black Chroma volcano. That is proving to be absolutely unpredictable, and it is the judg-202 Key to Havoc
ment of the experts on your staff that a full evacuation must be ordered.
Chief is arranging it now. Then you will go to a Translucent Chroma to consult about the telepathy disease outbreak."
"Isn't the blue locust plague more urgent?"
"Perhaps. But it takes time to travel, even with magic, and the most efficient way to cover the four most immediate crises is by a loop that puts them in this order. You will visit the blue locust plague region next, and direct
the tax collectors to deliver relief supplies."
"The tax collectors? But they are widely hated, for good reason."
"They have the delivery network. They have merely to reverse the collection process. They will be appreciated, this time. Finally you will address the White Chroma rebellion, and remain there to deal with it personally."
"But I'll really be a figurehead while Chief handles it."
"Of course, Havoc. You're the king." Ennui smiled. "I love this work.
It's meaningful."
He stepped up to her and kissed her on the forehead. "You're welcome, mother." Then he whispered in her ear: "And thanks for Gale Two. She'll do."
"I hope so."
They assembled by the elevator, a party of six: Havoc, Gale2, Ennui, Chief, Symbol, and Throe. King, lover, secretary, administrator, observer, and bodyguard. The royal retinue. But such was the pace of events that he was actually getting comfortable with it.
The coach was waiting at the base of the elevator. There was just room for them. Havoc sat between Gale2 on his right, and Symbol, while Ennui faced him between Throe and Chief. It was crowded; their hips touched, and their knees were not far from those on the facing seat.
"How long is the first hop?" Havoc inquired.
"Six hours," Ennui replied. "Counting the pauses for transfers between Chroma. We will not have to leave the coach, but ground travel does take time."
"I don't want to sound as ignorant as I am," Havoc said. "But why aren't we using more than one coach? So we could stretch out, maybe sleep on the way."
"We can, of course," Ennui said. "But it seems that the king must travel by caravan, with several coaches, and outsiders do not know which one contains the king. It is a standard precaution, in case--"
"In case someone wants to kill the king," Havoc said. "I get it. But we could still spread out through several coaches."
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"Yes. But I thought we might want to consult on things while traveling."
"Chief has a program planned, I think. I'll let him go with it. So I don't think I need more briefing right now."
"But Havoc--"
"I'm a barbarian, remember? Impulsive and ignorant."
She spread her hands. "I apologize for presuming. We can spread into other coaches."
He realized that he was embarrassing her. She meant well, and was trying to do a job she was new at. "No, I like the company here. We'll get by.
But is there any alternative to staring at each other for six hours?"
"As it happens, Sire, there is," Symbol said. "I brought an Air Chroma holograph, just in case. I can animate it here if you wish. But I must warn you that it's is sickeningly romantic."
"It will do." Havoc glanced around. "Any objections?"
"Of course not, Sire," Symbol said.
"No, I'm serious. I know the five of you about as well as I know any people in the civilized realm, and you know me. Maybe we aren't all friends, exactly, but you can afford to be frank with me, in private." He looked Ennui in the eye. "You, Ennui--what would you honestly prefer?"
"Actually, Havoc, I rather like your barbaric enthusiasms, and such magic has generally been beyond my experience. I'd like to see the holo."
"One in favor," he said. "Chief?"
"Sire, it is not my place to--"
"I know, the associates of the king do not practice barbaric democracy.
But in this case I am asking for your informed opinion whether a sickeningly romantic Invisible Chroma holograph will serve to pass time, relax us, and perhaps enable some of us to sleep during what may otherwise be a tedious journey."
Chief smiled. "Sire, I approve."
"Throe?"
The man frowned. "Symbol, what is the title?"
"It is titled Red Riding Hood. That derives from a tale of a little girl and a wolf, but only peripherally; this is a rather different story."
"Does it contain any element that might conceivably endanger the king?"
"Not physically. Emotionally--it might encourage him to fall in love with an older woman."
"Like you?"
Symbol smiled. "No. Aside from being only a decade or so older, I am not the right type. Ennui would be closer."
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Ennui jumped, appalled. "I have no--"
"No such design on the king," Symbol said. "We know that. You are his oath friend, a rather different matter. What I think Throe is checking is that King Havoc will not be subverted into a dangerous interest, as I would represent, rather than a safe one, as you represent. In any event the king is with his
betrothed, and that should prevent any perversion of his romantic interest."
Havoc squeezed Gale2's hand reassuringly. All those present knew of the substitution, except for Gale2 herself. He would have to make sure that she never doubted. Yet he wished she could have been the real Gale. What was True Gale doing now? Surely traveling with her troupe, in similar fashion.
"Exactly," Throe said. He looked around. "Maybe I should clarify that I did not approve King Deal's liaison with Symbol, because she is Chroma.
He elected to take her regardless, and was satisfied with her."
"As would you be, Throe, were I your lover," Symbol said with a mischievous smile. She lifted the hem of her skirt to show her well formed stockinged thigh. "Shall we play footsie in the dark?"
Throe was on the verge of blushing. She had evidently scored on him.
His close view of her legs was better than Havoc's, because he sat opposite her, but Havoc saw enough to remind him of his first session with her, when she had shown him her invisible body and educated him on courtly manners.
Her direct approach to a man was not to be denied. She was merely teasing Throe, but she was surely making him react with desire. It was her private way of establishing power, even in incidental dialogue.
Throe recovered enough to speak. "I am satisfied that this holograph does not represent a threat to the king."
"Gale?" Havoc inquired, turning to the girl.
"If it makes you hot for a woman, Havoc, it had better be me."
The original Gale probably wouldn't have said that, being entirely sure of him. But this would do. "I am always hot for you, my love," he said. "But it's difficult to do much about it right now."
"I want to know where both your hands are, while you watch."
"They will be on you, Gale," he promised.
"That leaves me safe," Symbol said. "Unless the king has a very probing foot." Both other men smiled, but Ennui did not.
The coach rolled to a stop. "We are at the fringe of the Translucent Chroma," Throe said. "In a moment their water magic will float us on our way."
He was right. The coach felt as if floating on rising water. Then it felt as Piers Anthony 205
if it were forging along a river current. They were magically airborne. But the
windows were closed, to prevent any outsider from seeing which coach of the caravan held the king's party, so they could not see out over the landscape.
Havoc regretted that. He wondered whether the coach was hitched to a huge flying fish.
Symbol gestured in the air. "Behold: the holograph."
It formed between them and around them, blotting out the interior of the coach and the people in it: a scene of a castle in a forest. Havoc found the
effect just as intriguing as he had before; the novelty had not faded. He put his right arm around Gale2, and true to his word, reached across his body with his left to find her blouse, get under it, and take hold of her left breast in
its bra. She reached in to touch a snap, and her bra loosened so that he could clasp her bare flesh. He had done it to reassure her of his continuing desire for her, but this made that desire real. He wished they were alone in the coach.
"The setting is of course Planet Mystery, where all the most remarkable stories are," Symbol said. "In this region there are no Chroma zones, but some people have magic of their own. Otherwise, this is much like our own world of Charm. The sound will come on in a moment, once the holo gets fully established. The effects are however limited to seeing and hearing; there
is no smell, taste, or touch, unfortunately. Bear with it. Perhaps you can find
something else to touch, to lend further effect." Her right thigh nudged Havoc's left thigh suggestively.
"Oh, this is something," Gale2 whispered, clearly awed. "I've never seen a scene like this before. We have entirely disappeared." She moved one hand before her, seeing its invisibility. She was genuinely excited; her breast
was flexing as her breathing quickened. What she said would be true for the real Gale, and possibly also for Gale2, as a servant girl might not have much occasion to experience real magic.
"Yes, that's the way it works," he whispered back. And if there were a sex scene, he would indeed be able to amend its realism by touching the equivalent parts of her body. He could appreciate how such shows could be very popular with dating couples.
Then the holograph's sound started. There was the rustling of leaves as a breeze passed through the forest, and the sound of footsteps coming up behind them.
Behind? Havoc turned his head to look back, and so did Gale2. This caused her breast and his grip on it to change intriguingly. Damn--he should never have gotten into her blouse when there was no chance to do anything 206 Key to Havoc
more. But the scene behind was the same as the scene in front; the holo showed what it showed regardless of the angle of viewing, in the manner of a painting. The sound remained behind him, when he faced the other way.
The scene only looked infinite.
They turned back, understanding the futility of changing position, in more than one sense. Gale2 put her left hand on his left hand, steadying it as it lay on her breast. He wasn't sure whether she was encouraging him, or tacitly preventing him from going farther. Either way, he was satisfied for the
time being to let it be, and focus on the holograph.
A young man came into sight. Havoc knew this was being shown in the close confines of the coach, but it still seemed to be as big as the outdoors it
represented. This illusion magic really was spectacular. The man was strikingly handsome, muscular, and bore an expression of alert intelligence. He was, in short, an idealized holo hero, of a type seldom encountered in real life.
Havoc felt a motion against his left thigh. He realized that Symbol was moving her right leg again, though this time not in a signal to him. But where could she move it? There wasn't room in the coach to stretch it out. Unless she slid it up against Throe's leg opposite her. Yet she seemed to be shifting its position back and forth.
He stifled a laugh. She was teasing the bodyguard again, stroking his leg with her foot. Under the cover of the holo scene. And there wasn't anything Throe could do about it without making an unconscionable fuss. Naughty girl.
The holo man strode to the castle's front gate, and rapped on its bars with his staff. The sound rang out, startlingly loud. "Ho, there Castle!" the man cried. "Greeting! Anybody home?"
The gate guard appeared, rubbing his eyes. He had evidently been snooz-ing in his guard box, and had been caught by surprise. "What do you want?"
"I am called Song, from a distant village. I have come to see the mistress of the castle."
"What is your business with her?"
"I wish to take service with her, so she can train me to become the best singer in my district."
The guard laughed unkindly. "You have come to the wrong castle, idiot.
My mistress doesn't train men. Only talented young women."
"Then maybe it is time she tried it with a man. I insist on seeing her."
"You fool, she'll make short work of you. Go away while you still have your balls."
But the handsome young man stood firm. "If she wants to be rid of Piers Anthony 207
me, let her tell me that herself."
The guard shrugged. "Very well, nutcase. What's your name again?"
"Song. That's my would-be profession. To sing for the masses."
"Wait here." The guard retreated into the castle.
The young man waited. The scene fuzzed momentarily, to indicate that time was passing.
The guard reappeared. "She asks whether you can actually sing."
"I can sing up a storm. That's the problem. I require training, to--"
"Then sing. She will hear from her chamber."
"But--"
"Or stop wasting our time."
The man sighed. "If you insist. But remember, I warned you." He took several deep breaths, lifted his chin, and sang. "My love is like a green green
rose..."
Almost immediately the air stirred, and a gust of wind smote the castle gate. Vapor formed, swirling around the two men. The scene darkened as a thickening cloud obscured the sun. Rain began to fall as thunder cracked overhead.
"What is this?" the guard demanded.
Song paused in his singing. "I told you: I sing up a storm. My magic is unfocused. I have to get that fixed before I can be what I want to be."
The guard looked at a turret above the castle wall. A hand projected from it, waving a green kerchief. "She will after all see you," he said. "Come this way."
Song followed the guard into the castle. Behind them, the storm rapidly dissipated, and the sun came out again.
The scene showed the interior of the castle. The gate opened to a dark hall, which in turn opened to an inner courtyard. From there they climbed stone steps to the second story, where they entered another hall. That led to an intersecting cross-hall, which in turn led to another series of stone steps.
Beyond these was another hall, which terminated in a closed door.
The guard pounded on the door. "Mistress Hood, he is here," he called.
"Send him in," a voice rasped.
The guard pulled the door open. "You're on your own, simpleton," he said. "Go on in."
Song entered the chamber. It was small and spare. On a tall stool sat a cloaked female figure with a bright red hood and a black veil that entirely concealed her facial features.
"Do you know me?" she rasped.
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"You are Red Riding Hood," Song said. "The finest trainer of singers on this world."
"Of female singers," she said, her voice remaining like gravel. "You must know that."
"I know that," he agreed. "But as I see it, the same skill that trains women can train a man. I have come to be trained."
"They are not the same. I have no experience with men."
"But you have great experience with singing."
She laughed bitterly. "Have you heard me try to sing? I can barely talk."
"But you have knowledge like no other. You have trained several of the finest singers of the planet. I have raw talent. You can show me how to bring it under control, and become what I want to be."
She sighed. "It is true your talent is raw. It so disturbs the air that the weather changes."
"Exactly! But if I can just learn to channel my magic properly, I can be a fine singer. I know it. That is why I have come to you."
She shook her hidden head. "No. I do not work with men. You must go to a male trainer."
"Can't," he said. "I have no gems to pay one of them."
The figure stiffened. "Then how would you pay me? My time is valuable."
"Well, I thought that you being a woman, you would have need of a man to do chores, run errands, clean out your stalls--whatever. I'll do anything, so long as it's not illegal. You need train me only an hour a day; the rest of the
time I will work. I can work hard." He flexed his right arm, making a muscle.
It was a good muscle.
"You amaze me by your temerity. I can have chores done for a pittance.
My expertise is not to be had for a pittance."
He looked crestfallen. "But Lady, you are my only hope. I must have your training to realize my dream."
"I can put you in touch with a venture capitalist who will stake you the wherewithal for expensive training elsewhere."
"But then he will own me," Song protested.
"For a time," she agreed. "Until you earn back his investment with interest. It is the price of achieving your goal. You do have magic and a fair voice; you should be able to get there, in due course."
"Ma'am, please--I would much rather have you train me. You are the best. If I must be owned, better to be owned by you. They say you are not unkind to your servants."
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"I don't want to own you!"
"Ma'am, please. I'll work hard. I'll do anything."
"No."
He sank to his knees, tears appearing at his eyes. "Ma'am, I beg you.
Anything."
"Oh for pity's sake!" she exclaimed, disgusted. "I can't stand to see a grown man cry."
"Then you'll do it?" he asked, his face illuminating with hope.
"I confess to being struck by your earnestness, your potential, your youthful handsomeness, and your naïve candor. Still--"
"O thank you ma'am!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around her legs and the chair.
"Wait! I didn't say--"
He buried his face in the folds of the skirt covering her knees. "You won't be sorry!"
"I am already sorry! How can you think--"
"I'll be your best student ever! And your best laborer."
She looked down, then patted his head. "I am a fool."
"No, no, ma'am, you are a great lady. And I will do everything I possibly can to be worthy of your attention."
She grimaced through the veil. "Understand, you will be a live-in servant for the duration of your training. This means sweeping floors, scrubbing turnips, hauling water, bundling garbage. You will answer to the gatekeeper, the cook, and anyone else in authority in this castle. You will be the lowest of the low."
"Yes!" he said gladly.
"And you won't receive any gems. Just your sustenance and training, until you achieve your potential, whatever that may be."
"Yes."
"And on occasion you will go to the nearby town to shop for staples needed by the castle. I do not like to appear in public, or to talk with strangers. I don't like being stared at. So you will go there, when necessary."
"Anything," he agreed raptly.
She looked at the ceiling. "I hope I don't rue this hour."
"Oh, no, never, ma'am!"
"Go downstairs and find the kitchen. The cook doubles as maid; she'll get you installed in the servant's quarters and introduce you to the by-paths of the castle. Tomorrow morning I will see you for your first training session."
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"Thank you, wonderful lady! Thank you!"
"Now please let go of my knees."
Awkwardly, he did so. He got to his feet.
Someone nudged his left side. "Disengage, Sire."
For a moment Havoc was nonplused. Then he realized that Symbol had addressed him, surely with reason. He had been identifying with Song, so the nudge had seemed to come from nowhere. He slid his left hand out of Gale2's blouse and straightened up somewhat.
The holo picture faded out. The coach interior and its occupants came back into sight. "I believe we are at the edge of the Translucent Chroma,"
Symbol said. "My Air crystal powers the holograph, but I think it best that we be alert during the transition to the Brown Chroma. There is also a rest stop scheduled here, in case of need."
Havoc now knew better than to stand and piss beside the coach; he was no longer in barbarian country. He would use the civilized interior pot.
They got out of the coach, and found themselves in a small fenced compound. He and Gale2 walked to the pot building. He suddenly realized that he still was not properly adept at putting his own clothing together; he was bound to be clumsy. But he did need the pot.
Also, he wasn't sure of the male/female protocol here. Were there supposed to be separate places for men and women?
Fortunately Gale2 did seem to know. This would be part of her background experience, left in place. She accompanied him without embarrassment. There were two pots within, so they each used one, side by side.
Then as he finished and stood, fumbling with his fastenings, Gale2
stepped up to him. Efficiently she put him back together, then embraced him, kissed him, and led him back outside.
The others were ready. They climbed back into the coach, and the coach-men hauled it out of the compound. Soon there was the special feel of magic lifting. They were on their way across the Brown Chroma, no doubt carried by a huge golem.
"Are we ready for the next installment of Red Riding Hood?" Symbol inquired. "Not finding it too dull? It does gain feeling as it goes." After a pause, the castle scene resumed.
Song walked down the hall, down the stairs, down the hall, down the other hall, and out to the courtyard steps. He sniffed the air, then crossed the
courtyard and found the kitchen without difficulty.
A solid woman of middle age looked up as he entered. "I am the new handyman," he said. "Madam Hood said you would install me and show me Piers Anthony 211
the castle by-paths."
Cook nodded. "Who are you?"
"Song. She will train me at her convenience, and I will work the rest of the time. I am to answer to you and the gatekeeper."
"Then follow me." Cook led him to a closet where there were sheets and pillows, and gave him an armful to carry. They moved on to another closet, where she dug out working clothing for him. Then she led him to a chamber in back. "This will be yours, and you will take care of it yourself.
Set
it up, change clothes, then report to me at the kitchen for the lunch meal."
Song did so. When he returned to the kitchen, Cook joined him in a repast of red turnips and blue turnip greens. "She's gruff at first, but she softens with time," she confined. "She's not a bad mistress. Just don't cross her."
"Oh, I wouldn't do that."
"Maybe not intentionally. Don't ask questions that don't relate to your work. When you report to her, always knock before entering. She needs time to cover her face. Never seek to see her face."
"Might I inquire--?"
"No. She will tell you if she chooses."
Song shrugged. "All I'll ask is what she wants me to do."
"You don't even need to ask. Just do whatever she tells you. At other times, do what I tell you, or the gatekeeper tells you. As the last hireling, you're at the bottom of the totem."
"Got it."
Cook smiled. "That's the attitude. Now there's a pile of pots to scrub."
Song got to work. He hummed while he scrubbed, glad to be there. He knew Red Riding Hood would treat him fairly, and give him the training he needed to become great, and he didn't mind what else he had to do along the way.
"I must say, you're a cheerful one," Cook remarked as he finished. "You've done a good job, too."
"My mother told me always to do the best I knew how," Song said. "She said there are no lowly jobs, just lowly performances."
"I like your mother. And what did your father say?"
"He died some time ago."
Cook shut up, embarrassed. She let him off the chores soon after, though there were plainly more to do. Song retired to his chamber, and discovered he was tired; it had been a considerable day. He washed up, changed into nightclothes, lay down, and was soon asleep.
212 Key to Havoc
In the morning he reported to the kitchen, ready to resume work. "First you eat, then you report to Madame for your training session. The work will keep till the afternoon."
"But I can see that there are things to do."
"I could get to like you, Song. But Madame wants you fresh, not sweaty.
Eat." And she served him an excellent breakfast of fried crab leaves and wasp honey.
Song reported to Madam Red Riding Hood on schedule. This time she was standing, and he saw that she was of average height and slender of form beneath her encompassing cloak. She led him into a theater chamber with a high ceiling, walking with a dancer's smoothness. She was immediate business. "First we must abate that misdirected magic, she said in her raspy voice.
"Can't have rainfall ruining my floor. Focus your gaze on this picture." She indicated a framed picture on a wall, of a fiery yellow volcano. "Think of Fire, burning up everything in its vicinity. Think of overwhelming heat of the fire season. Think of thirst as you cross a desert. Now sing."
He concentrated, and sang. "I gave my love a cherry that had no bone.
I gave my love a chicken that had no cone."
Clouds were swirling in the chamber, but there was no thunder and no rain. Instead there was flying sand. It formed a pile on the floor.
Hood raised her hand, and Song stopped singing. The cloud dissipated, but the sand remained. "Well, it's progress," she remarked somewhat wryly.
"This establishes that you can control the magic. We simply need to channel it all into something useful."
Song was amazed. "Sand! That never happened before. It was always wet." He looked around. "I'll need a bucket to haul it out."
"No. You will do it the hard way. You will sing it out."
"Sing it out, Madame? But I don't know how to--"
"That is why you are here. I know how. This time, when you sing, focus on Air. On wind, strong but dry."
"But--"
"Who is the trainer, here?" she asked sharply.
"You are, Madame," he said humbly. He sang, focusing on dry air. After several attempts he began to get it right: a circular wind formed that swept up
the sand, making a bowl pattern that almost filled the chamber. It whirled faster and faster, thinning and expanding, until it passed outside the chamber,
leaving calm air in the center. The sand was gone.
Song wavered on his feet and started to fall. Hood stepped into him and held him firm. "Breathe deeply," she said. "Recover your strength."
Piers Anthony 213
Song breathed, and gradually his pounding heartbeat subsided and his vision cleared. He discovered himself embraced by her, her strong small body supporting his big weak one. She was--he was perplexed by this--nice to be close to. "Thank you, Madame," he said at last. "I don't know what happened."
"Magic is not free," she said. "For the first time, you channeled yours, and it was very strong, but it exhausted you. There is a considerable way to go
yet, but you have taken the first and second steps. The long term object will be to channel it into your singing itself, so as to enhance it and make you the
star you can be. This will require a great deal of work, but will be worth it in
the end."
"Oh, Madame! Do you really think I can be a star?"
"I said so, didn't I? But you have set foot on the base of a mountain of considerable challenge. Progress is likely to be tediously slow. You may grow to hate me."
"Hate you, Madame? I would never--"
"As the symbol of what may become the painful discipline I impose. We shall see whether you have the necessary staying power. You may of course depart at any time. You know that I am not expert in training men."
"I shall stay the course, Madame. I am most grateful for-"
"Don't be maudlin. You will earn your keep."
"You have already shown me more than I ever thought possible. I--"
"The session is over. Go back to the kitchen."
Humbly, he left. He did not see the faint smile under Hood's veil.
The sessions continued, and the work continued. Song applied himself diligently at both, and made slow but clear progress in the one while making the labors of Cook and Gatekeeper less arduous. In a month he had channeled his magic so that it made no disturbance while he sang, and was beginning to manifest in the singing itself, enhancing it. Hood began guiding him in the nuances of stage management and on-stage dialogue, to supplement his singing.
"Now we are short handed here, so will have to make do," she said briskly. "I will pose as your opposite number, the lead female singer. Pretend that I have sung my song, and it is now your turn. Sing to me." She flung off her cloak and stood in a simple black dress, a trim yet buxom figure of a woman under the red hood and veiled face.
But Song was suddenly diffident. He mangled his song, and a storm swirled around them.
"What is the matter?" she asked sharply. "You can't have suddenly for-214 Key to Havoc
gotten what you have learned. Control your magic, channel it into your music."
"I am trying, Madame," he said apologetically.
"Evidently not hard enough. When you go on a real stage, in a real play, you will be opposite some genuinely lovely women. Some will be prima donnas you can't stand, but you must never allow your personal sentiment to show.
As far as you are concerned onstage, they are all your true loves. I actually represent a sufficient challenge in this respect; if you can pretend I am your true love, you will be able to handle anything. Now focus!"
"Madame, please, it's not that," he protested.
"Then what is it? You have been shying clear of me as if I am a freak. I am a freak, but for this purpose you must treat me as if I am a desirable object. You can't afford to get stage fright or stage disorientation; this is perhaps the greatest liability of novice performers."
"I know, Madame. It's not that."
"Then what is it?" she demanded.
His diffidence became painful. "I can't tell you, Madame."
"You can't tell me!" she exploded. "This is interfering with your training and your potential career. You do have talent; the prospect of a career is real.
I will not allow you to destroy it by foolish reservations. If you can't tell me,
I can't deal with it, and there is no point in continuing."
Song looked woebegone. "Please, Madame, I don't want to make you angry."
"Well, you are succeeding."
He looked as if he were about to cry. She realized that this was not simple obstinacy. "Very well. I promise not to fire you or terminate your training, even if it infuriates me. Tell me."
Song scuffled his feet. "I--I've been alone a while. And you, Madame--
you know so much, you understand me so well, you are doing so much for me. Anything I may become, I owe to you."
"Oh, come on now. You're earning your keep. Cook says she'll be really sorry when you graduate and go on your way, because she's almost forgotten how to do the chores. You are spoiling us, Song."
Still he was hesitant. "I want--at night--I think of you."
"I know I've been bearing down hard on you, Song. It is because I want you to realize your potential. I do not mean to be unkind; it's just the way I am. I expect a lot."
"It's not that," he said quickly. "I like working in your castle. Working with you."
Piers Anthony 215
"Then sleep in peace, and train with full vigor. Don't think of me as a tyrant to fear--"
"I think of you--as a woman," he said, and looked abashed, as if about to be severely chastised.
Hood was amazed. "Are you saying that you desire me? Sexually?"
He hung his head. "I guess I am, Madame. I know I don't have any right. It just happened."
Hood could hardly believe this. "When I was fifteen I was a promising actress with a fine singing voice, beautiful and talented and with prospects as
big as the planet. Until a jealous boyfriend threw cursed water in my face. No magic balm would heal it; the damage was permanent. It cost me the sight of one eye, and spoiled my voice, and left horrible scars across my face. It destroyed the career I had so fondly anticipated. Since that time, fifteen years ago, I have sought my fulfillment by helping other promising girls to achieve their destinies on the stage--and now, perhaps, you. I mask myself from you because I do not care to be the object of revulsion. I can destroy any personal interest you may have in a moment simply by removing my hood. I am truly ugly now. Do you wish me to do that?"
"No, Madame."
"Then be satisfied that I am no love object, apart from the necessary pretense for the stage rehearsals. You don't want me in your bed."
Song skuffled his feet again. "But I do, Madame. I think you're lovely in that red hood. You have a--a very nice body."
"You desire me--with the hood?"
"Yes, Madame." He looked as though he expected her to hit him.
She shook her head, coming to an abrupt decision. "This can readily be put to the test. Come to my bed in fifteen minutes, and I will strip away everything but the hood."
His mouth sagged open. "Everything, Madame?"
"And I will give you access to everything that shows. Will that satisfy you?"
He was awash in confusion. "Oh, Madame--you don't have to do anything like that for me! I was just explaining why I can't concentrate on the training. I didn't mean to suggest--"
"I know you didn't. That is why I am doing it. I intend to eliminate this barrier to your progress, one way or another, either by demonstrating that you lack the desire you thought you had, or by satisfying it without delay. This is
efficient."
"Oh, Madame," he breathed, awed or terrified by the prospect.
216 Key to Havoc
"I will go to my bedroom now. You can come to me or refrain from doing so, and it will not affect our relationship with respect to training or work. Provided that your distraction ceases hereafter. I ask only that you do not bruit this matter about, either way. I have had more than enough embarrassment in my life already."
"Oh, I wouldn't bruit, Madame!"
Red Riding Hood left him in the theater chamber, and walked to her bedroom suite, changed into an attractive red gown, and awaited Song's arrival, uncertain whether he would actually come. "In fact," she said, speaking to herself as though he were present, "I am uncertain whether I want you to come. What I have not told you is that I have been bemused by your aspect throughout our association. You are the kind of man I would have married, had I not lost my appeal. I am thirty, no longer young, but no longer beyond desire either. This entire business, from the time I first met you, has been an
exercise in the futility of a bygone dream. I desire to be loved, and that desire
has so distorted my equilibrium as to make me foolish. It is myself I am challenging, as much as you. So come to me, my handsome talented innocent lad, if you truly desire my body. At worst, you will have a mistress you will not
care to advertise, and I--I will dream foolishly a little longer. Perhaps we can
serve each others' passing needs."
Then she took a handkerchief, reached up under her veil, and dabbed away a tear from her left eye.
The dragon seed buzzed. For a moment Havoc thought it was part of the holo play. Then he realized that there was danger. He removed his left hand from Gale2's breast and touched Symbol's bare knee, finding it by location. "Stop the show," he said.
The scene abruptly ended. There was Symbol, with her stockinged legs clamping one of Throe's legs. There was Chief holding hands with Ennui.
There was Gale2 with a bare left breast. But none of that was the point.
"There is danger," Havoc said. "Get us elsewhere now."
Throe put his right arm out through the shrouded window beside him.
"Brown courier--evasive action," he said, speaking what his outside hand was signaling.
The coach suddenly dropped and swerved. There was a flash of light outside that made the coach roof momentarily transparent. Then the sound of an explosion. Then the coach was hurled more rapidly downward, spinning.
It braked steeply, then crashed into the ground. The door opened, sprung by the force of contact. The six of them were piled together, the three on Piers Anthony 217
Havoc's side on top of the three opposite. Havoc avoided crushing Ennui only by thrusting his left hand beside her, taking up much of the force of his collision with her. But Gale2 was plastered against Chief, and Symbol was jammed onto Throe.
"Out," Havoc said. "Three parties, three directions. We need to hide, in case there is more coming."
Throe reacted immediately. He rolled out the sprung door, carrying Symbol with him. They fell on the ground and scrambled away. Havoc followed, lifting Ennui from her seat and setting her down outside. Then he plunged straight on away from the coach. He trusted that Chief would get Gale2 out similarly.
He glanced back. The huge brown golem that had carried them was lying tumbled and broken on the ground, much of its body missing. It had managed to set the coach down halfway gently before expiring.
The terrain was all brown. Havoc had never before been this deep into a Chroma on the ground, and never in Brown, but he recognized the types of magic plants. There were dangerously tentacular trees beginning to react, and other vegetative threats. They needed protection in a hurry.
He saw a clump of mask vines. They would do. He carried Ennui to them and set her down, sitting. "Pee," he said.
Astonished, she only stared while he hastily brought out his penis and urinated on the vines. There wasn't much, because they had recently used the rest stop pot, but it would have to do.
Two brown tentacles were extending toward her from behind. "Pee!" he repeated. "Now!"
"I--I can't," she said.
"Then vomit."
She remained frozen, unable to assimilate this. But there was no time.
In another moment a tentacle would find her, and then he would have to fight the tree for her, and that would be no easy thing, here in the heart of a Chroma
region. The tree might stun him magically, or overcome him in some other way.
He took his forefinger, put it to her mouth, pried it open, and probed the back of her throat. He found the trigger, and suddenly she spewed over his hand. He put his hand on the vines and carefully rubbed it across them, spreading the vomit. The tentacles halted but did not retreat.
Ennui choked, then recovered, breathing gaspingly. "Havoc, what--"
"These are mask vines," he said. "They will mask our presence, for a while. But we have to demonstrate our friendship with an offering of food.
218 Key to Havoc
Can you pee yet?"
Her resistance was gone. "I--I'll try." She got to her squatting feet, hiked up her skirt, pulled aside her panty and managed to squeeze out a few drops.
"Good. Urine is best, because it soaks in fastest so they can recognize it.
Now we are friends, and masked." Indeed, the tentacles of the other plant were casting about elsewhere, unable to locate her.
"Masked?"
"To others, we look like more mask vines."
"But what happened? Where are the others?"
"We were attacked. A firebomb, I think. The others should be hiding similarly."
"They--they had to urinate?"
"If they knew to do it. But they should not be in as much danger. I'm the king, therefore the target. So I need to hide, until we know the threat is past." Actually she had been the one in danger, because she was close to him, but did not have the protection of the crown.
"Oh, Havoc," she said. Then she wept.
He put his arm around her. "I think we're safe now. The Brown Chroma forces will be zeroing in on them and us. We just had to get out of range of the attack quickly. We did."
"But the danger--I'm not strong. I don't know how to--"
"You don't have to be." He squeezed her shoulders. "Remember, you were the one who was bored with life."
She brightened. "You certainly fixed that!"
"What's this with Chief?"
"He took my hand. Do you think--?"
"I think he likes you. Maybe he wants to remarry, though he doesn't have to while he serves the king."
"But I'm nothing!"
"Not any more."
"But it's only because of you."
"If his interest is serious, would you want to?"
She was nonplused. "I don't know. He's an interesting man, with such an important position, while I--"
"Maybe he wants a woman who would give loyalty without being demanding. One not like Symbol."
"I am that," she agreed.
"One he could come home to and just be with, no challenge, no games."
Piers Anthony 219
"Havoc, are you saying--"
"Oath friendships are not affected by romantic associations. If he invites you to his chamber, maybe you should try it. If you want to."
"Sex?"
"Were you tired of sex, or of the man, before?"
"Of being used." Then she reconsidered. "With the right man, I think I wouldn't mind it at all."
"There you are."
"This is all so sudden."
"I'm not called Havoc for nothing. Things have always happened around me. When we resume travel, take his hand."
"It seems so wild and daring and provocative."
"That's more like Symbol. Did you see her working on Throe?"
"Yes. Those legs--"
A brown shape floated toward them. "Sire."
"We've been spotted." Havoc stood. "Here. How did you find me?"
The brown man came to land before them. His insignia indicated high status. "Your crown, Sire. You disappeared, but we always know where it is."
"So do my enemies."
"I don't think so, Sire. There were three firebombs, going for all three coaches. We intercepted two, but the third got away. Fortunately your bodyguard anticipated the threat and took evasive action at the last moment. We are tracking down the source now."
"There won't be any leads to the source," Havoc said.
"Perhaps not, Sire, but we shall certainly look. This was no design of the Brown Chroma."
"I'm sure it wasn't," Havoc agreed. The seed had not buzzed. "But maybe your security should be strengthened."
"It shall be, Sire." The man was clearly embarrassed.
A new coach and golem were provided, and the party reassembled. The other four people had survived, though with bruises and scratches that brown magic ointment was ameliorating. "Hug her," Ennui murmured as Chief and Gale2 appeared.
She was right: he had to be properly demonstrative. He embraced Gale2, and she cried on his shoulder. Once again he felt guilt.
As the coach floated, Throe looked at Havoc. "Sire, how did you know?"
He would have to tell, as there was no concealing the fact that he had known. "When I was young, I befriended a blue dragon. It gave me a dragon seed. It warns me of danger."
220 Key to Havoc
Throe nodded. "A dragon seed. That explains a lot. But that was chancy, associating with a dragon."
"It was injured. I helped it. We made an oath of friendship." He did not tell of Gale's involvement and similar dragon seed, as that could endanger her. "I prefer that this not be widely known."
"It will not be known beyond this circle," Chief said.
"An oath of friendship with a dragon," Throe said. "That's one I never heard of before."
"Havoc makes some strange oaths," Ennui said.
"I respect the creatures and plants of the wilderness," Havoc said seriously. "They have much to teach us."
"They surely do," Symbol agreed thoughtfully. "Do we wish to resumed the holo?"
"Yes," Ennui said. "I want to know whether he will come to her."
Chief glanced at her sidelong. "Do you wish him to?"
"Yes." Evidently Ennui had decided to give him a try.
"I'm still shaking from that attack and crash," Gale2 said. "I'd like a diversion."
Then the holograph formed around them, and there was only Red Riding Hood standing alone in her bedroom, a rather pretty figure in her dress, with her head still masked.
There was a hesitant knock on the door. There was a murmur of relief, whether of Hood or a member of the audience was uncertain. "Come in."
Song entered. He had washed his face and combed his hair, and was strikingly handsome. "You look great," he said. "I never saw you in a full dress before."
"I will remove it if you wish." She did not point out the distinction between a dress and the gown she wore.
"Uh, no, that's fine. I mean, you look great." Realizing that he was repeating himself, he went silent.
So he had summoned courage to come, but not to take it farther. Perhaps he remained in doubt. So she helped him. "Shall we dance?"
"Uh, sure."
She gestured, and music sounded. Then she approached him and stepped into the loose embrace of lowkey ballroom dancing. She led him, for she was expert while he was half clumsy.
"Hold me as if you mean it," she said after a moment.
But he was diffident again. "I can't hold you close, Madame; I'm getting a--"
Piers Anthony 221
She laughed. "Then let's get to it. Shall I undress myself, or do you prefer to do it?"
"I don't hardly dare touch you, Madame," he confessed.
"That will change." She unfastened her robe and stepped out of it, naked underneath. Her body was startlingly ripe; she looked a mature fifteen.
She lay on the bed. "Now it is your turn."
"Uh, yeah." But he just stood there.
"Do not be embarrassed, Song. We are after all here for sex. It would be embarrassing if you were not ready for it."
Thus encouraged, he climbed out of his clothing and joined her on the bed. But he still lacked initiative.
"How would you like me?" she inquired. "Sunny side up, or rear view?"
"Madame," he said, blushing. "Could I--kiss you?"
"Through the veil?"
"Uh, yes."
"As you wish."
But he didn't do it, so after a moment she lifted her upper section, turned into him, and kissed him gently on the lips, the veil between them.
Then he kissed back, and became more urgent, like a rising storm. In moments he pushed her down flat, and mounted her, and thrust into her, climaxing immediately like the healthy young animal he was. "Oh, Madame,"
he gasped. "Oh, Madame!"
Then he withdrew, and became apologetic. "I got carried away. I know it's not supposed to be fast like that. I'm sorry."
"I'm not, Song. It means your passion is real."
"Yeah, it sure is."
"Let's relax a while, and then do it again, when you are ready. Then it will be slower."
"Yeah." He paused, lying beside her on his side. "Thanks for kissing me."
"You may kiss me again, soon. For now, just relax." She reached across to capture his left hand. She brought it to her breasts and slowly stroked it across them.
Soon, as promised, he was kissing her again, first on the breasts and then on the veil. Then she lifted her legs and embraced him with them, and guided him slowly back into her. The culmination took longer this time, and was under her guidance, so that in due course she climaxed and took him with her.
"Oh Madame!" he said. "Oh Madame! That's the greatest I ever dreamed. I love you."
222 Key to Havoc
"Let's not make rash statements. It suffices that you find my body physically appealing."
"Oh, Madame, I mean it. I think your body is great, but I was starting to love you before I ever saw it."
Hood considered, then took a chance. "Would you like to move in with me, and share my bed every night?"
"Oh, yes, Madame! But you might not get much sleep."
"I am prepared to suffer that penalty. So we shall be lovers. I confess I have missed the company of handsome, potent young men like you. But before we commit further, I think it is time to show you my face."
"Madame, you don't need to do that. I never wanted to embarrass you."
"But I believe I do need to do it, because if you are to be repulsed by my appearance, and turned off further relations, it is best that it be done at the
outset, to save us both awkwardness."
"Oh, Madame, I don't want to be turned off."
She put her hands to her head, and lifted off the hood, letting her dull brown hair fall loose. Then she drew off the veil, for the first time revealing
the features of her injured face.
Song looked, and blanched. She had not exaggerated. Her right eye was a socket ringed by scar tissue, and the scars angled down her face to take out half her nose and most of her chin. Her lips were full but discolored. Her throat was ridged with scars.
But Song did not avert his gaze. "It's awful what happened to you, Madame."
"I am indeed ugly," she agreed. "Now you may if you wish depart my presence, or this castle. But I will say that this session has been nice, and I
thank you for it."
"May I kiss you, Madame?"
She was surprised. "Without the veil?"
"Yes, Madame."
"If you want to, it is your privilege. But I will understand if you wish me to restore the veil."
"No, Madame." Then he bent over her and kissed her tenderly on the lips. He continued by kissing the rest of her face, to the verge of her spoiled
eye.
She held her position for a moment, then let go. She reached up around his shoulders to hug him close. "You have given me a priceless gift," she said.
"Tolerance for my aspect."
"I can see how you really are, under the hood," he said. "Under the Piers Anthony 223
scars. I see your fine spirit."
"I thought no man would do that, ever."
"Madame, if it's all right with you, can I--?"
"What, again? Youth is marvelous."
So they proceeded to a third act of love, and after that he was finally sated, for that hour.
The holo went into summary, showing Song's subsequent career, which was a good one. He became extremely popular, and traveled widely. With him always was his lady, with an excellent figure but wearing a flexible mask that looked almost real, with her hair set carefully around it. But in the privacy of their castle she went naked, body and face, with the intended consequence: he was constantly catching her and caressing her, and often it got out of hand.
The picture faded. They were back in the coach. "I did warn you,"
Symbol said. "Not a strong plot, but heavy romance."
"When we camp tonight, what are the facilities?" Havoc asked.
"There is to be a house with three rooms, with a common kitchen and bathroom area," Ennui said. "This seems to be the best available at this particular site."
"Shall we make it three couples, without further comment or implied commitment?"
There was a pause. Then Symbol spoke. "As the king wills." That settled it.
"That holo is not fair play," Throe grumped.
Symbol smiled. "I know it." She tickled his leg with a toe. "But how else are we to wile away the long dull hours traveling with the king?" She spread her knees, and he did look.
The rest of the journey was routine. They crossed one more Chroma zone, then arrived at the station on the edge of the Green Chroma. It was late afternoon; the official business would wait until the morrow.
Havoc took a brief walk around the premises with Gale2, stretching his legs. Throe followed discreetly, not trusting the protection of the area. The region was lovely, all in shades of green. All the plants were passive varieties;
Havoc mentally catalogued them as he went. This area had been rendered safe for tourists.
"Must he follow us?" Gale2 whispered.
"Yes, it's his job. Just ignore him."
"But suppose we want to--?"
"He won't tell." Realizing this was not a satisfactory answer for her, he 224 Key to Havoc
amended it. "He has to guard me, and he has to be near me to do that. He wasn't close enough to King Deal to protect him when he fell, and so he is doubly careful with me. But we probably shouldn't smooch in public anyway; I suspect it's unkingly."
"But this is private, except for him."
"So it is," he agreed. He turned into her, embraced her, and kissed her, running a hand over her bottom.
She stiffened momentarily, then relaxed. Then she ran her hand over his bottom, making turnabout fair play. "I love every part of you," she said.
There was no buzz from the dragon seed. She was not trying to flatter him. The familiar guilt returned. What was he doing to this innocent girl?
"Oh, Gale," he said, feeling a surge of painfully mixed emotion.
She kissed him again, with enhanced passion. She had taken his reaction to be an expression of love. "You know I'm yours in every way, Havoc."
This just got worse. "I have two things to do, and if I don't do one now, I won't have a chance later."
"Two things?"
"Exercise and passion. It's the first that could get squeezed out."
"I can't help you in that, Havoc."
"Yes you can." He bent to pick her up, holding her under arms and knees, and began to run. He quickly gained velocity, moving her body from side to aside to keep his balance.
"Havoc!" she cried, laughing, as her hair and skirt flung out.
He ducked his head down and nudged her bosom with his forehead. "I can't think of a nicer burden to carry."
"I can run too," she offered. "No need to wear yourself out."
But he knew she couldn't. The real Gale could run with him; she had fine legs, and made it a point to keep fit, as he did. But this was a soft civilized
creature, and he didn't want her to realize that. "If you carry your own weight,
I won't get the whole workout. Please, Gale--"
"Sire! Don't say please to me."
Oops. She was right: the king did not beg favors, he commanded. Worse, she had lapsed into loyal functionary mode, calling him Sire. Her mind imprint was already wearing thin in places. He had to cover, before she realized her own slip and started to question her identity.
"I was teasing you," he said. "Remember, we're barbarians; we treat others politely." Then, before she could have any further thought, he heaved her high, took a mouthful of her clothed breast, and blew explosively.
She shrieked and windmilled her arms and legs, off-balancing him. He Piers Anthony 225
collapsed, but managed to set her down gently. Then he pounced on her, kissing her ardently while he ran a hand up under her skirt to pinch her buttock. She was helpless with laughter, trying to kiss him back despite eruptions.
Throe was there. "Problem, Sire?"
He looked up. "Just capturing a wild roe. She almost got away."
Throe faded back. Gale2 managed to settle down enough to speak.
"Havoc, you are the worst tease on two worlds!"
"Just getting even for the times you've done it to me, you vixen."
"I never!"
"Don't you remember when you tied me with constrictor vine while I slept, then tickled me with a feather flower until I pissed?"
Of course she hadn't remembered, but now she thought she did. "Well, you deserved it."
"Probably so." There had never been a woman like Gale, and he yearned for her. "We'd better get back before they miss us." He helped her stand.
"As if they don't know where the king is," she said, brushing herself off.
They walked back toward the green cabin. He had gotten a bit of a workout, but would have to find ways to do more, lest he lose his physical tone. And it had been fun with Gale2, whose only fault was that she wasn't what she believed she was.
Supper was all in shades of green, because this was the Green Chroma.
He still wasn't used to the monochromatic nature of the Chroma, though the separate items were fully distinguishable. Probably the natives perceived them as many colors.
Then they retired for the night, one couple to a room, as agreed. Havoc had intended to evince full passion for Gale2, to reassure her, but it turned out to be no problem; her passion for him met him more than halfway.
"I feel like Red Riding Hood," she remarked as they relaxed after vigorous activity.
That surprised him. "You're no old ugly woman!"
"But you're a young, wonderful man, and somehow I feel as if I don't quite belong."
She was slipping into awareness again. The excitement of the attack on the coach must have shaken the mind set. "How can you not belong, Gale?"
"I don't know. It's just a feeling. As if I don't deserve to be this happy."
This was mischief. All he could do was distract her and hope for the best. "Let's play Tickle and Feel."
She hesitated. "Do you mean Tickle & Peek?"
226 Key to Havoc
"No. I just invented this game." Actually Gale had invented it, and they had teased each other endlessly with it. "It continues as long as you can say you deserve it. It stops when you decide you don't deserve it."
"Okay, Havoc," she said uncertainly.
She was lying naked on the bed. He tickled her tummy with one finger.
"Do you feel you deserve this?"
"Yes," she said.
He tickled her left breast. "Do you deserve this?"
She wriggled, making her body shake, but was game. "Yes."
He tickled her under the chin. "This?"
"Yes."
He lifted one of her knees, and tickled her buttock and inner thigh.
"This?"
She struggled, but ticklishness almost overcame her. "Y--y--"
He put his face down and blew into her cleft.
That wiped her out. "No!" she screamed, laughing, writhing halfway off the bed.
"Then you must pay the penalty," he said with mock severity. The game had restored his potency, as it always had before. He mounted her and entered her, proceeding to a slow but powerful climax.
"I like that game," she gasped.
"Next time you'll be the tickler, and I'll be the deserving one."
"But are you as ticklish as I am?"
Gale knew, of course, and knew how to make him react. Gale2 would learn. "I am when you find the way."
She seemed satisfied with that. She mopped up some, and settled down to sleep. He relaxed similarly. Part of what made him feel guilty, ironically, was that he did like her. Deceiving her was like betraying a friend. Having to work to deceive her made it worse. She truly did not deserve the heartache that was coming.
He woke, hearing something in the night. After a moment he placed it: Ennui was walking to the common bathroom. He could recognize the steps of each member of the party; it was part of his dragon training, to know others by more than their appearances.
He had a full bladder himself, having imbibed a bit much green berry juice. So he rolled quietly off the bed, leaving Gale2 asleep, and went out to join Ennui.
She was just finishing. "Havoc. You too?"
He took over the pot. "It was very good juice."
Piers Anthony 227
"The magic enhances it," she agreed. "How was your evening?"
"She's wonderful. But I feel guilt."
"We'll take good care of her, Havoc. She won't be cast out to the wolves."
"But her love--it's genuine. What about that?"
"There are magic love potions, and counter-potions. She knew that when she agreed."
"Still."
She came across to him, where he sat, and laid her hand on his shoulder.
"I know, Havoc. However kind we try to make it, it remains a cruelty."
"How was it with Chief?"
"He's a surprisingly passionate man. I must say I enjoyed it. Considering my age and body--" She shrugged.
"Your body is fine," he said. "A woman doesn't have to be young and buxom."
"Apparently not," she agreed.
Throe appeared. It was his job to be alert; he had heard them. "Problem, Sire?"
"Not one you can abate. I don't like doing what I'm doing to--to Gale.
She's a nice girl."
"One of the things about being king is that you must do what doesn't necessarily please you. King Deal was at times pained by decisions he had to make, though he could not show it to others."
"I grow more sympathetic to him by the hour," Havoc said ruefully. He got off the pot.
Throe turned to Ennui. "May I have a woman's input on a question?"
"Of course, Throe," she said, surprised.
"Why did Symbol seduce me? We never associated before, and I can't say I liked her, but when she turned her appeal on me, it was as if I were a novice in my first martial arts class."
"You associate with the king," Ennui said. "It's Havoc she's really signaling."
"Havoc?" he asked blankly.
"There's something about her," Havoc said. "She could have taken me, had she chosen, though I have no wish to stray from Gale." There was another tinge of guilt.
"She is nominally in grief for King Deal," Ennui said. "So socially she can't take another lover. Especially not the new King. But she likes the benefits of the position, so wants to guarantee that there's a place for her near
the king. You are nearest the king, physically."
228 Key to Havoc
Throe smiled, understanding. "Thank you, Ennui. Now I can make sense of it. I knew it couldn't be for any real desire for me. I still can't say I
like her. But when she spread her legs to me, I was lost, and she knew it."
"She's a remarkable woman," Havoc said.
"In darkness, she's fully fleshed," Throe said. "I halfway expected there to be nothing, but that's not the case."
"Not the case," Havoc agreed. "She's all woman."
"That illusion holograph was part of it," Ennui said. "It made us all eager for passion. Then when Chief took my hand--" She paused. "Throe, maybe you can answer a question for me. You have known Chief far longer than I have. Why did he take me? I'm no sultry beauty like Symbol."
"It's similar to your answer to me. You are the king's oath friend--his closest associate, by his definition. That makes you a focus of interest.
Chief
has taken lovers before, but never remained with them long, and they were always of high status."
"Status," she said. "I don't have that either."
"You have the highest status: the trust of the king."
She nodded. "It is the same for you. We are working class folk. Only our association with Havoc gives us status."
"Which means we can enjoy the benefits, but never deceive ourselves about any personal merit. We are nothing without the king."
"So I can expect to be dumped soon," she concluded. "But I can't say I'll regret the experience."
"Nor will I," Throe agreed. "Symbol is the type of woman a man like me can only dream of. But when that's done, I think I would rather settle down with one who had no ulterior motive. One like you."
Ennui opened her mouth, but closed it again without speaking, looking thoughtful.
"We had better return to our rooms before our opposites miss us," Havoc suggested.
They nodded together. The three separated. Havoc quietly rejoined Gale2 on the bed.
But she felt his motion. "Yes, of course, Havoc, if you wish," she said sleepily, spreading her legs.
She had misunderstood his activity, perhaps naturally enough. "No, I was just returning from the bathroom. Don't tempt me. I'll need my strength for tomorrow."
"All right." But now she was further awake. "Havoc?"
"Yes, Gale."
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"Why did someone attack us?"
That was something that had been brewing behind his thoughts. Since she had been endangered by it, she deserved to know. "King Deal was killed, and I suspect he was murdered. I am the next king. Now I am the target.
You are with me, so are in danger too. I regret this."
"King Deal was killed? I thought it was an accident."
"It may have been. But I'm suspicious. This attack on me confirms it: someone doesn't like the king."
She laughed. "Nobody likes the king! No offense. I mean--"
"I know what you mean. You and I hated the king too, before you came to work for him, and before I became king myself. And I don't want to be king. But I'm stuck for it, for a year at least. Then I'll go home to Village Trifle, and we'll marry and settle down."
"Oh, yes," she agreed fervently.
Damn that guilt! "So we'll just have to keep alert, and hope to discover who is trying to assassinate kings."
"Could it be the White Chroma?"
"It could be, since it's in rebellion. But there would have to be connections to other Chroma, because white magic won't work elsewhere. We may have several traitors to uncover. They could be anywhere."
"Oh, Havoc, I'm afraid!"
What could he do? He embraced her as well as he could, and comforted her, and soothed her to sleep. The real Gale might have felt some fear, but would not have reacted helplessly; she would have been angry, and determined to strike back at whatever threatened them. The more he came to know this soft creature, the more he missed his true love.
In the morning, after routine matters, the king's party joined high officials of the Green Chroma and one representative of the Black Chroma to view the site of the Black Chroma volcano. Tentacles of an enormous tree carried them up onto a large green platform in the highest foliage, with solid rails, so there was no danger of falling off. Then the tentacles passed their platform along to a neighboring tree, and on along until they reached the edge of the forest. They seemed to hover when the void came into view on the horizon. Because of their height, they did not need to get closer to it.
It was impressive in a deadly way: the variegated green terrain turned black and sank into a dark pit. It did resemble an inverted volcano. It was completely dull and silent.
Gale2 clutched Havoc's arm, afraid. After a moment Ennui, similarly fearful, took his other arm. Both were shivering. Chief, Symbol, and Throe 230 Key to Havoc
stood independently straight, but their expressions were fixed, suggesting their
tension. This was a thing of potential disaster.
"Review the situation for the king," Chief said.
"Gladly, Sire," the green officer said, addressing Havoc directly but speaking loudly and clearly so that all could hear. This was according to protocol, as the Ladies Aspect and Symbol had explained to him; the king was always informed, but assumed a stance of ignorance so that the matter could be officially presented to him. "The void opened six days ago in the form of a well. The local farmer thought it was merely a collapse in terrain, as happens occasionally. But when it expanded, and sucked in his barn and half his herd of sheep, he cried the alarm. We set up a watch and notified Triumph. It was quiescent for a day and a half, but then expanded again, this time taking in five
surrounding farms with their livestock and occupants. We did a local evacuation, and it expanded again, quadrupling its prior area. Since then it has been
stable. We are uncertain whether to evacuate more widely. The costs of that would be considerable, but the costs of miscalculation would be worse."
Cost of miscalculation: loss of all the farms and people of the surrounding region. Havoc had to decide whether to order the evacuation, or risk having them sit tight. He knew that Chief had concluded that evacuation was necessary, so this was the decision he should render.
The dragon seed buzzed.
Startled, Havoc paused. This was the first time it had ever buzzed while he was thinking about a problem. Did it mean the void was about to expand and take them in? How he wished the seed could differentiate in its warnings!
He would have to narrow it down. "Are we within the likely range of any sudden expansion?"
"No, Sire," the green officer said. "We would never risk--"
"Thank you." So it wasn't immediate danger. That meant that there was a wrongness in his thinking. He didn't like either of the given choices anyway.
So he did what Mentor had taught him, and stepped outside of conventional-ity.
He turned to the black man. "You of the Black Chroma have experience with Void volcanoes."
"Yes, Sire."
"What are the odds of a new volcano like this one expanding significantly hereafter?"
"Sire, we deem those odds to be one in three."
"How much additional territory would a significant expansion swallow?"
"Sire, perhaps three times its present area."
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"So the damage expansion would do is equivalent to its chances of not happening."
The man hesitated, surprised. "That is a way to put it, Sire."
"Which is why it's hard to make a decision, since if we evacuate, damage to farms will be done, perhaps unnecessarily."
"Yes, Sire."
Havoc pondered. He knew that Chief had already prepared his course of action, but he did not have to accede. "I don't like these choices."
"No one does, Sire," the black man agreed.
"I presume that you of the Black Chroma have no territorial designs on the Green Chroma. You don't want the volcano to erupt again."
"None, Sire," the black man said hastily. "We deplore its appearance in an existing sphere."
"You naturally have implosive magic, echoing the nature of your Chroma."
"Yes, Sire."
"Do you have big implosive bombs?"
The man was plainly uncomfortable. "As large as we might require, Sire."
"Just in case some other Chroma decided to treat the Black Chroma unfairly."
"That could be the case, Sire. But we would never seek unwarranted advantage."
"What would happen if a large void bomb were detonated in this void volcano?"
"Sire!" the Black Chroma man exclaimed, and his shock was mirrored in the faces of the Green Chroma party.
But Chief picked up on it. "You did not answer the king's question."
"Sire, no such thing has ever been done before. It could be dangerous."
"More dangerous than this volcano tripling its area?"
"Sire, we have no way of knowing."
The seed buzzed.
It wouldn't be politic to call the man a liar; he was probably trying to protect state secrets. "But you have an informed opinion."
"Yes, Sire."
"Would the detonation of a void bomb in the volcano be likely to do more harm than a further natural expansion would?"
The man had to answer. "In my opinion, no, Sire. It probably would have no expansive effect, but might disrupt the volcano and cause it to become inactive."
232 Key to Havoc
Bullseye. "Do it," Havoc said, and the seed did not buzz.
The Green men looked at each other in dawning surmise. Symbol glanced at Havoc. "Brilliant," she murmured.
"But Sire," the black man protested. "We have no means of delivery, or--"
"The king has spoken," Chief said firmly. "The Green Chroma can transport it, if your people can prime it for detonation at its destination."
"Yes we can," the green officer agreed. Already the platform was moving back through the trees, surely heading for the nearest established Black Chroma territory.
But first it dropped the king's party off at the temporary campsite. They boarded their coach, and it departed for the mind reading crisis region.
"Sire, you had a better solution," Chief said. "I was going to order a partial evacuation and alert status for further retreat at first sign of expansion."
"Yes, I understood that."
"Sire, how did you do it?" Symbol asked. "You never discussed it be-forehand."
"I was going to let Chief handle it," Havoc admitted. "But my dragon seed buzzed. So I explored an alternative."
"Are you sure it will work, Sire?" Symbol asked.
"Yes, if the seed has guided me correctly. That is, if I interpreted its warning correctly. I'll be alert for confirmation."
"So will the seed guide you to a similarly apt solution to the mind reading disease?" Ennui asked.
"I doubt it. I think that will have to be mass transport to the Translucent Chroma for treatment. I suspect Chief has already arranged it."
"Yes, Sire," Chief agreed. "We dare not risk exposure of our own party by direct contact with the victims, so will merely inspect and approve the Translucent treatment facilities."
"Sire, I wonder," Symbol said. "If your seed alerted you to a solution no one else had thought of for one problem, why shouldn't it do so for another?
It occurs to me that mind reading itself is potentially very useful, if it can be
controlled. Maybe all those infected folk need is training."
This was interesting. "State the opposite case," Havoc said.
"There is no better solution than transport and treatment."
The seed buzzed.
"You have a case," Havoc said. "I never tried to use the seed this way before, but maybe it is a more useful tool than I suspected. Argue your case."
Piers Anthony 233
"If we can develop a suitable training mechanism, we may be able to nullify the inconvenience of the infection," she said. "And if we can discover how transmission occurs, we can save the victims the trouble of traveling to get treatment."
"Say the opposite."
"Training will be useless." The seed buzzed. "We have no chance to stop the spread of the disease." Another buzz.
"You were right the first time, both statements. We do have a better way, if we can figure it out."
Now they all got in on it, making suggestions ranging from dull conventional to wildly improbable. And slowly they developed a theory of conta-gion.
Chief had all manner of statistics on where, when, and who was catching the mind reading plague. As they analyzed the figures, with the help of the dragon seed, they discovered that personality was a key: no selfish or unfeeling or insensitive person had caught it, regardless of exposure. Only those who seemed to care strongly about others were vulnerable.
"But why should only nice people get it?" Ennui asked. "That's unfair."
"That implies that the others are not nice," Symbol said. "I am privately indifferent to the private feelings of others, but I treat them fairly and do not
regard myself as evil. Chief is of similar temperament, and it makes him an excellent administrator. Power figures can seldom afford personal involvement with the matters they handle; they need to be objective. I lost my objectivity in only one case, and he's dead."
"I agree, of course," Chief said. "I have schooled myself to leave my emotions out of my decisions. This enables me to serve the new king competently."
"Correction noted," Ennui said. "Why should only unobjective people catch it?"
"Empathy!" Gale2 exclaimed. "Someone really gets into the feelings of another person, tries to understand, to become that person--and succeeds too well."
They stared at her. Of course it made sense--and it made sense that she, who had become another person herself, was the first to apply that concept. If someone seemed confused or in distress, an insensitive person would pay little attention. But a sensitive one, one with natural empathy, would try to help--by first truly understanding the nature of the problem. And thereby laying himself open to infection.
"I think this is how transmission occurs," Symbol said. "Or shall I say, 234 Key to Havoc
this is ridiculous."
The seed buzzed, verifying the lie.
"But how do we treat it?" Ennui asked. "The problem these victims have is that they can neither stop their own thoughts from going out, nor stop other thoughts from coming in."
"No one stops her thoughts from going out," Symbol said. "Except by utilizing magic or isolation or the confusion of other people's thoughts over-laying hers. That's why the king wears the crown, and the rest of us are careful."
"So it's only half a curse," Gale2 said. "The victims broadcast the same way everyone does; where they differ is that now they can receive."
Ennui nodded. "Say the opposite."
In a moment they had verified that Gale2's supposition was correct.
Receiving, not broadcasting, was the problem.
Havoc pondered, then took a chance. "There is a way." The seed did not buzz, indicating that he was not making a mistake.
Symbol eyed him. "You can hold your thoughts in, Sire? Without the crown?"
"Yes. The important ones. I mask or shield them with a persistent mental tune or other thought, and keep them under it. I think the principle would apply on a larger scale. The main reason I don't mask all my thoughts is that this would reveal that I have the ability, and I prefer others to think I
lack any such protection."
"So the Translucent Chroma mind readers don't catch on," Ennui said.
"Not only hiding your thoughts, but hiding the fact that you're hiding them."
"Yes. A person's weapons may lose effect if known."
They considered that. "Sire, is this something others can learn?" Symbol asked.
"I think so. But we would need a mind reader to provide the proof of it."
Ennui laughed. "We need an infected person! To see if we can stop the infection."
"But if it worked," Symbol said slowly, "what a breakthrough it would be for the great mass of folk who are vulnerable to mind peeping. They could start keeping some secrets."
"And the mind shield might prevent further transmission of the illness,"
Ennui said. "So that it would be a plague under control."
Symbol nodded. "This would be about as complete a solution as is feasible."
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"Lacking any way to test this," Chief said, "we are uncertain of its valid-ity." He glanced at Havoc. "No disrespect to your dragon seed intended, Sire.
But we do not know its limits."
"We can test it," Ennui said. "All we need is a volunteer to catch the disease--and then try to cure herself."
Symbol laughed. "Who would ever care to take such a chance?"
"I would," Ennui said. "For the sake of Havoc's success as king, and for the benefit of our society."
"So would I," Gale2 said.
"Not you," Symbol said. Havoc understood why: she would learn the secret of her impersonation. Symbol's objectivity was showing to advantage.
"Why not? I love Havoc, and would do anything for him."
"And if you caught the disease, but the cure didn't work, what then?
You would be a bundle of nerves and pains of others, unable to help yourself, let alone him."
That made Gale2 pause. "But the same applies to Ennui. He needs her too."
"Perhaps this," Chief said. "Let Ennui try it, and if she can't control her thoughts, or show reasonable progress, she can go to the Translucent Chroma and obtain their treatment."
Symbol nodded. "That might make the risk acceptable. If it worked, others of us could try it too, as appropriate."
"When do we meet with the Translucent Chroma authorities?" Havoc asked.
"Tomorrow morning," Ennui said. "You solved the Void volcano crisis faster than expected, so we're ahead of schedule. We'll be at our campsite in an hour."
"The void crisis isn't over," Havoc said. "My idea may not work." But as he spoke, the seed buzzed.
"You provided a new approach," Chief said. "That in itself goes far to defuse the crisis."
"Meanwhile, let's tackle the next," Havoc said, not caring to argue technicalities when he was privately assured that the matter was done. "We have half a day, and a night, to verify our approach. We need to get on it. I think Ennui can start, but-" He hesitated, realizing something.
Chief said it. "It is likely that others of us will be infected by her, when we work with her, unless we are very careful. Is this a risk we are prepared to
take?"
"But we were going to verify that she could control it, before going 236 Key to Havoc
further," Throe protested.
"There won't be time for that," Symbol said. "We'll have to do it today and tonight, if it is to be in time to relate to this crisis. We'll be exposed while
she's learning control."
"This wreaks havoc with sensible precautions."
"That's my name," Havoc said. "It's the way I am."
"Sire, it's the way you are," Throe agreed, seeming ill at ease.
Chief nodded. "We can reach the nearest infected refugee camp in half an hour, if we diverge from our planned route now."
"No," Throe said.
"No?" Ennui asked.
"The king must not be subject to unnecessary risk," Throe said. "Even at his own behest."
Symbol eyed him. "What, you can veto the king's decision?"
"Yes, in such a case. He means to expose us and himself to the mind reading disease. We are expendable, but he is not."
"He could have you executed for treason, for balking him."
"I'd be guilty of it, if I didn't do my best to protect him from all dangers."
They looked at Havoc. This was his call.
He pondered a moment, then spoke carefully. "As I see it, I am in danger simply by being king. There has already been an attack on this party. If I proceed predictably, my unknown enemy will have an easier target. So a sudden deviance from my planned route may improve my safety."
"Deviate some other direction, Sire," Throe said.
"My best course is to be the best king I can, so as not to endanger myself or others by incompetence. Standard measures will make me a standard king, but in order to be better, I must explore nonstandard measures.
Just as my route of physical travel should not be predicable, so my intellectual
approach to crises should not be predictable. No one would expect me to step deliberately into risk, or expect you to allow it. In addition, this mind reading infection may not be a liability, once understood and controlled.
However, my crown should protect me, as it shields my mind from being read by others. It should protect me from catching the infection. So I am really not in immediate danger, though the rest of you are. Therefore--"
"He's got you, Throe," Symbol said. "He nullifies risk by stepping into risk, in the interest of helping the planet. Yield while you can."
Throe sighed. "Sire, I yield, reluctantly." He realized that this was a risk he could not stop the king from taking. He put his arm out through the Piers Anthony 237
window, signaling the Green Chroma guide.
A vine curled down. A green face appeared. "Yes?"
Chief gave the new direction. The green man did not question it. The coach changed course.
"Now I had better drill you on my mind-hiding technique," Havoc said.
"Then when Ennui is infected, she will be able to tell us how well we are succeeding."
"We all will need mind shields," Symbol agreed. "Whether or not infected. We all surely have private matters we prefer not to share with others."
"Meanwhile, we need a head start," Chief said. "This promises to be an unusual challenge."
"Actually, Chief, you and I should not be at risk of infection," Symbol reminded him. "We don't have strong empathy for others. All we should need to do is maintain our natural indifference to their problems."
"Agreed. So only Gale is threatened."
"And Throe," she said. "He practices empathy, getting into the minds of would-be assassins."
"I am not concerned with risk to me," Throe said. "Only to the king, or those he values."
"Watch your sympathies, nevertheless."
"Sympathy is not the same as empathy," Chief said.
Symbol shot him a glance. "But they are allied. Hard hearts must be the order of this day."
"Agreed," Throe said.
Havoc explained his technique of mind masking, encouraging them to develop thought-numbing mental refrains that would interfere with any outside effort to read their minds. Just as a barrage of thoughts by another person interfered with mind reading, this acted inside the mind.
The next step was to get the most important thoughts under that wall of interference, and keep them there. "It's like ducking down into a cave," he said. "If you raise your head, it will bang on a stalactite. After a while you keep your head down automatically. It took me months to develop; I doubt that much can be done in a day. But all we need to do is prove the technique.
Any progress at all will be sufficient. The victims will have the rest of their
lives to mask their minds."
The coach landed at the fringe of the Green Chroma. They got out.
This was not a regular campsite; it was a fading green field, cleared of hostile
plants.
Chief spoke to the green man, who stood by the outstretched tendrils 238 Key to Havoc
of the last tree to have carried the coach. "Conduct this woman to the refugee camp. We will wait for her return." He indicated Ennui.
Surprised, the green man hesitated, but there was no demurral from the king. "This way," he said, and he and Ennui were carried away by shrubs that extended their foliage. At the fringe there was not enough magic to lift the full coach, but a single person could be moved.
"Better use the bushes," Havoc said. "We may be busy when she returns."
"Thus do we join the barbarian revolution," Symbol said ruefully. She headed for a bush. "I hope it doesn't try to wipe me." The others laughed.
All plants had their own magic, but those of the Green Chroma were special.
Soon they continued their mental drilling in the parked coach. "Remember," Symbol said. "All our thoughts will be open to Ennui, until we learn to mask them. Do we have any secrets we really truly can't stand to be revealed?"
"I do have secrets," Chief said. "But my liaison with Ennui has been close, as has my recent personal association with her. I believe she can be trusted."
"Throe of course can be trusted," Symbol said. "It's his business to keep the king's secrets." She nudged Throe with her knee. "That leaves Gale."
"I would never betray Havoc," Gale2 protested.
"Not intentionally, dear. But you must develop an effective mind shield as rapidly as possible."
"I will."
They continued to drill, but it was not possible to know how well they were succeeding, because their minds were closed to each other, so far. Havoc wasn't sure how well they could succeed in so short a time, because it had been a slow process for Gale and himself. The mask could cover all thoughts; the trick was to mask them selectively. It was like letting water spill through
one hole in the bucket, and not through another.
Then Ennui returned. They got out to see. The green man was carrying her physically. "I must advise you that this woman has become contaminated by the mind plague," he reported unsympathetically as he set her on her feet.
She stood there, swaying, looking overwhelmingly confused. "She insisted on getting close to the refugees and interviewing several personally. I recommend that she be interned in the refugee camp immediately."
Chief stepped forward and took Ennui's hand. "The king appreciates your concern, Green. But we wish to study her. Resume moving the coach to Piers Anthony 239
its original destination."
The green man nodded. "As you direct, Chief."
They piled back into the coach, and it lifted into the air. "What is your report?" Chief asked Ennui.
But she merely sat beside him, her head in her hands, groaning softly.
"The thoughts," Symbol said. "She is the only one infected, but all of us are broadcasting our thoughts, even as we try to shield them. She is being overwhelmed."
Havoc reached forward, put his hands on Ennui's shoulders, and hauled her into him. Her limp body sprawled across his, until her head came up against his head, touching his crown.
Suddenly she revived. "Oh--it's gone! What a relief." Then she became aware of her position. "Havoc--what are you doing?"
"I am holding your head against my crown, so that its shielding extends to you." He smiled. "I'm not getting fresh, if that's your concern."
The others laughed, and so did Ennui, her breath riffling his hair. "Havoc, we have been naked together, we have pissed together, and now I have lost my mind for you. Get fresh if you want to. Just don't let me loose from that crown. It's my only shield against hell."
"Tell us about it."
She squirmed until she was sitting on his lap with her back against him, keeping her cheek against the crown. "I thought it would be difficult to catch it, or at least that it would take time. But when I got close to a woman who was crying, and tried to comfort her, suddenly I felt her pain. It was as if a globe around my head had shattered and let in Babel. This thing--it seems not so much to be a sickness as the destruction of a defense. There must be an aspect of the human mind that blocks out other thoughts, and this illness nullifies that aspect." She tried to shrug, ineffectively. "I don't recommend the experience. All the thoughts of all the people come in simultaneously, the closest the loudest, and you can't block them off. But the emotions are worse."
"Emotions!" Gale2 said. "We didn't think of that."
"I hope my technique can enable us to shield emotions too," Havoc said.
"You can't shield your thoughts or emotions going out," she said. "They are like the heat of your body, constantly surrounding you. There never was a protection against that. But normal folk are protected from receiving the thoughts of others. That's what you need to do."
"But we can mask them, garble them as they go out," Havoc said. "So that they become meaningless babble, and part of the background noise."
"We need to do both," Gale2 said. "Garble out, garble in." She giggled.
240 Key to Havoc
"We have been practicing," Chief said. "But we don't yet know with what success."
"I can tell you." Havoc felt Ennui tense. Then she lifted her head away from his head. And quickly returned it. "No, you are all broadcasting like mad. All except Havoc; he's completely silent."
"The crown," Chief said. "It protects him both ways, input and output.
Generations of craftsmanship went into its development."
"But I've got to develop a shield," Ennui said. "I can't stay glued to Havoc all day." She lifted her head again. "A persistent melody--I'm focusing on it. I think it's helping." Slowly she lifted her head away again, pacing
the development of her shield.
"You must feel awful," Gale2 said. Then, suddenly, she clapped her hands to her head. "Oh, no!"
"You caught it from me," Ennui said. "I'm sorry."
Gale2 began to scream. Havoc put his arm around her shoulder and hauled her in to the other side of his head. Now he was sandwiched between the two of them, their faces on either side of his, their bodies spreading out to the front and to the side.
"No, I must fight it too," Gale2 said. She pulled her head away from the crown, returned, then found the level she could tolerate. "Now your thoughts are like distant shouting," she said. "All confused, but not intolerable. And I
can distinguish some common threads, where several of you are thinking similarly."
"Yes," Ennui agreed. "Men think about sex a lot. Women are more social. It's the negative emotions that hurt."
"There's one strong one that isn't sex or social," Gale2 said, moving her head a trifle farther out. "It--it's about me. It--great gods! I'm not real!"
"Uh-oh," Symbol murmured.
"You--all of you know it! I'm not Gale. I'm--I'm the bath girl. An impostor!"
"It's not that simple, dear," Symbol said.
But now all their thoughts were focused on it, and Gale2 was reading it more clearly, her horror growing. "I'm not Havoc's love! He's been lying to me. Why--?"
"It had to be done," Chief said.
"He doesn't love me!" Gale cried hysterically. "I've been deluding myself. I'm nothing!" She yanked her head away from him--and caught the full force of the other minds. "My love's an illusion! I can't stand it!" Then she screamed, continuously. Ennui shrank back, in pain. It was not the piercing Piers Anthony 241
sound, Havoc knew, so much as the mental stress. Gale2 was destroying herself with the horror of the revelation, as well as the barrage of thoughts, and her returning thoughts were making Ennui suicidal too. Their attempt to fix the mind reading problem had turned savagely against them.
Gale2 tried to push a hole in the coach wall and scramble out. Chief caught hold of her, preventing her escape. But that brought his head closer to hers, making his thoughts louder. She became a wild woman, struggling, fighting, scratching. "He doesn't love me! I have no business loving him!
How could I be here? He's the king! I must die!"
And what could any of them say? They had all done it to her. But especially Havoc. His guilt was greatest. He should never have agreed to this awful ploy. He had to deal with it.
Havoc put his hands to the crown. "No, Sire!" Throe cried, lurching forward to prevent him.
Havoc met his close gaze. "I did wrong. I must do right. Let it be."
"But Sire--you'll get the--"
"Stay out of it." Havoc lifted off the crown. Defeated by the king's direct order, Throe retreated to his seat.
"Gale," he said, focusing on her. The sound or the thought caught her frantic attention. "Read my mind."
She oriented on him, putting her head close so that his thoughts would be the strongest. He let it all pour out: the need to have Gale's mission secret,
which meant concealing her absence, which meant putting in a substitute.
The development of the mistress of the bath for this purpose. His guilt for the deception, though she had volunteered. His sorrow that he had done this to her. His disgust at the ways of civilization, of kingship, where wives had to
tolerate lovers and innocent people were sacrificed to expediency.
Her eyes widened. "You did this to me?" she demanded, though she already had the answer.
"I did this to you. I curse the thought of it. I can make no apology. I don't know how to make it right."
"You monster!" She threw herself at him, but the crown in his hands deflected her body, and she sprawled across him and Ennui.
He passed the crown to Symbol, leaving himself without protection.
"Try again."
Blinded by humiliation and fury, she did. Her nails came up to scratch his cheek. Blood welled out and trickled down his chin. He didn't move.
She suffered a sudden wave of remorse. "I can't hurt you, Havoc! I love you!" And her love blasted at him in much the manner of her fury. He felt it, 242 Key to Havoc
and it swept him up in the manner of a fire, igniting an answering fire in him.
"Oh Havoc, I'm sorry," she said. "I did volunteer; I remember now. I just wanted to help." Her face was close; she moved forward and kissed the scratches she had made, trying to make them well.
He turned his face and intercepted her lips. They kissed through the smeared blood, feeling each other's passion reflected back and forth in the manner of facing mirrors.
"Now he's got it too," Symbol said.
Havoc realized it was true. He was reading Gale2's mind, feeling her passion. Just like that, he was another victim. He also was aware of the noise of the thoughts of the four others in the coach, washing against him like waves breaking against the rock that was his head. But they could not sub-merge his real identity, because that was protected in his secret cache of self.
"You do care for me," Gale2 said. "Some."
"You're a great girl. But not--"
"I know. Put your crown back on. I'll behave."
Symbol handed him back his crown. He put it on, and the chaos around him faded. Things were back to normal, superficially.
Except that Ennui, Gale2, and Throe were holding their heads. Throe?
"Him too," Symbol agreed, observing his glance. "He went when you went."
"At least it verifies our hypothesis," Chief said. "We now know how it is transmitted."
"But we have three suffering people," Havoc said.
"And not much time to cure them. The coach is descending."
Havoc pondered. "We don't want others to know what we're doing yet, if ever. We need to get to the accommodations without giving it away. The crown will make a person normal, so we'll use that. The two of you who are stable will take turns conducting the others to the quarters. I'll go last, and
recover the crown then. Then we'll see about the cure."
Symbol and Chief nodded.
"Now, for the few minutes remaining, you other three get your heads up near mine."
With some help, they did it, and their pain abated. "I hope this can be cured," Ennui said. "I can't function in the storm."
"Yes!" Gale2 and Throe said together.
"I can," Havoc said. "I felt the storm, but could wall it off, to a degree.
When we get into the cabin, you can follow my mind, and maybe get the technique faster. It took me months, but I had to do it mostly alone. Mentor corrected me, but I was with him only part of the time."
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The coach landed. "Symbol, take Throe," Havoc said. He removed the crown and set it on Throe's head.
Symbol brought out a kerchief and used it to cover the crown. "No one but the king must be seen wearing this."
They got out of the coach. Havoc heard Symbol talking, devising some explanation for this unusual procedure. Meanwhile he focused on keeping his sanity, raising his barrier as high as he could. Even so, he felt their suffering. They were unable to develop their own thoughts, in the absence of overwhelming emotion, because of the interference of the neighboring thoughts. But it was not as bad with only the four of them, and with Havoc partially shielded. He felt their discomfort diminish as the two departed.
Symbol returned, wearing the crown. "I couldn't carry it," she said. "It would have attracted attention."
"Chief, take Ennui," Havoc said, taking the crown from Symbol and putting it on Ennui's head.
They left. Now there were three of them, and Gale2 was looking less stressed. "It's only one and a half minds," she said. "Not too confusing."
"I'm half witted?" Havoc asked.
"Sire, I didn't mean--"
He kissed her. "I know. Don't call me Sire."
"But-"
"You have a role to play. Play it. I will try to find a way to do right by you."
She shook her head. "I did not realize how hard it would be to leave you, Havoc. I liked you before--before this. Now I love you. But I know I must leave you."
"Sire, let me clean your face," Symbol said. "And yours, Gale. That blood would arouse curiosity."
So it would. She cleaned them up. Then Chief returned. Symbol took Gale2, wearing the crown.
"What am I going to do with Gale?" Havoc asked Chief. "After the tour?"
"She might be satisfied to be head mistress of the bath, again, Sire."
"But that would be demeaning, after this."
"Not if you kept her as a lover, Sire, and the house staff knew it."
"Keep her as a lover!"
"Gale proper will be your fiancée, Sire. You will need a lover. It is a position of honor. She will want to be close to you, and there she can be.
You can take her when she washes you, if you choose."
244 Key to Havoc
"This is protocol? Civilization still has surprises for me."
"I understand King Deal made use of the bath girls, before Symbol assumed the role. That was before this one's time, of course, as they are fresh
every two years."
"I will ask her."
"Just tell her, Sire."
"I want her to be amenable."
"Sire, any person is amenable to anything the king desires, by definition."
"I want it truly to be her choice."
Chief shrugged. "You retain your quaint barbarian ways, Sire."
Symbol returned. Havoc took back the crown, donned it, and walked with them to the quarters. "Sire, I told them that there had been an attack on your convoy, and you wished the premises to be carefully checked before-hand," Symbol said. "They understood."
"You have no difficulty subverting the truth to expediency."
"None, Sire."
The rooms were nice enough. There were three, as before. "Same three couples," Symbol said. "That will place one infected with one immune, whether naturally or by virtue of magic. That should make for a peaceful night."
"If we sleep tonight," Havoc said. "We four infected will have work to do."
"We other two should do it too," Chief said. "It will be useful for anyone, to protect thoughts. We keep forgetting that."
Symbol nodded. "I will order the meal delivered, Sire."
They gathered in the main chamber. "See if you can follow me," Havoc said. He removed his crown, and let the storm of thoughts in. Then he raised the bar, his interference song covering more of his thoughts. "Establish your bar, get in under it, and slowly lift," he said. "Follow me as I do it."
They practiced. The food came, and they ate while practicing. They used the bathroom while practicing. They changed to nightclothes while practicing.
They made progress. The pain of full exposure was a great incentive.
Ennui led the way, successfully emulating Havoc in an hour. Gale2 had more trouble, but had made significant progress in two hours. Throe struggled, but did have a low bar that rose slowly. Because they could read his mind, and each other's minds, they could quickly tell when something worked. That greatly facilitated things.
"I think that's enough," Havoc said at last. "Sleep should help." He put Piers Anthony 245
his crown back on.
They retired. Half the night was over, and they were all tired. Havoc went to bed with Gale2. Then he remembered. "Before we sleep, one thing.
How do you feel about--"
"Yes, I'll do it."
"I didn't mean sex. I meant--"
"I read your mind," she reminded him. "I will be bath girl again."
"But I do not wish this to be a requirement. I am trying to do right by you."
"I know. Chief is correct: your will is my will."
"That's not the way I want it."
"That's the way it is, barbarian. Take off your crown and verify it, if you wish."
Havoc did. It was true: she wished so much to please him that she had no desire in this respect other than his will. She simply wanted to be close to
him, and to love him, and be accepted by him in any capacity.
And she wanted him to leave his crown off when he had sex with her.
"Yes," he said, smiling.
This time as he stroked her body, her felt her answering passion. His desire was mirrored by hers, and her desire came back to further enhance his.
It was an accelerated, phenomenally enhanced experience, culminating in an explosive mutual climax.
"I can make you love me, for a while," she said.
He understood what she meant. With the exchange of thoughts and feelings, her interest followed his, and his love followed hers. They were perhaps mere reflections of the originating passions, but they were indistinguishable from their own.
"Love me like that, when you can, and I will always be satisfied," she said.
"But when Gale returns--"
"If she is like you, and my imprinting indicates she is, she will understand. She will not begrudge me that much of you."
"Perhaps not," he agreed, relieved. She had made her own accommodation to the situation, and it was good.
He relaxed for sleep, but she reminded him to put his crown back on.
"You will sleep better without my dreams, and you will be safe from any physical threat."
She was right. But he was aware that she was pleased that he had thought to sleep beside her without the crown.
246 Key to Havoc
"I'm sorry I scratched you. I never should have done that."
"It showed you have some barbarian fire. I like that. Gale would have knocked me out."
"Oh, Havoc," she said, melting against him.
In the morning they had not had enough sleep, but there was no help for that. Havoc removed his crown without leaving his room and thought loudly: How are you others doing?
Hear this, Ennui thought from the next chamber. But there was nothing following, just background noise.
I can't hear you. Then he realized what it meant: she had perfected her mind shield.
Hear this, Gale2 thought next. Her next thoughts were muted, though he could still pick them up. It was nevertheless better than it had been the night
before.
This too, Throe thought. Sleep had helped him substantially; his following thoughts faded almost to nothing.
"I believe we have the treatment," Havoc said. "Now we can present it to the refugees."
They met with the Translucent authorities. "We expect to arrange to treat the refugees where they are," Havoc announced. "They will not have to be treated here."
The translucent man rippled an eyebrow. "You have other magic treatment, Sire?"
"We have a program of nonmagic treatment. We will train the refugees in certain techniques, starting immediately."
And they did so. They went to the largest local camp, and Ennui, Gale2, and Throe demonstrated their shields. They showed how they were infected, but were able to function. They spent the day conducting classes, and the practice sharpened their own abilities. The most promising prospects were conducted privately to Havoc, who removed his crown and gave them further instruction. By the end of the day, there were a number of refugees with limited but definite mind shields. They would become the new instructors.
"Tomorrow the locusts," Havoc said, satisfied. They ate hastily and turned in early.
"If I did not already love you, Havoc, I think I would be learning to love you now," Gale2 said. "You have found another new way to solve an intrac-table problem."
"It's the barbarian way." Then he removed the crown, and sure enough, her desire enfolded him.
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"Yes," she said as they concluded. "I will help Gale to do this, as you secretly desire."
"It is hard to keep secrets," he said, replacing the crown.
"But we are learning how."
He found himself uneasy. "Gale, I will do right by you."
"I know, Havoc. I am no longer hurt or angry."
"I know. Still--"
She smiled. "Your trace of guilt--I like that too. You are fully human, in a way most nobles are not."
"It is nice to be understood."
They slept. He still would have preferred to be beside Gale, but was growing more comfortable with this girl. It was as she said: she was human.
She lacked sophisticated emotional control. That made her nice to be with.
In the morning they drilled again on their mental shields, which were still gaining proficiency. In due course they boarded the coach and took off for the next crisis.
The closer confines of the coach gave them further practice. But there was an intriguing aspect. The four infected people had developed shields of varying effectiveness, but the two uninfected were far behind. They had tried, but lacked the instant mental feedback, so were relatively clumsy.
"But we don't need effective shields," Chief said. "Because we aren't infected."
"The situation is changing," Ennui said. "With the mind reading disease spreading, and the victims learning to handle it, there will be more mind reading. It won't be limited to Translucent Chroma specialists. You can be at risk from any person you deal with, increasingly in the future. You must have a good shield."
"Perhaps," he said, unconvinced.
Something in her expression alerted him. Havoc removed the crown.
The familiar welter of thoughts besieged him. But it wasn't as bad as it had been two days before, when the illness first struck them. Ennui, Gale2, and Throe protected their minds substantially better. But not the other two.
"I think we should make a demonstration," Ennui said. This will be fun.
"Chief, you of course would never entertain an untoward thought about the king's companion."
"Agreed," Chief said guardedly.
Gale, spread your legs, slowly. Show him something good. "And if she showed something accidentally, you would not look."
Havoc? It was Gale2's thought.
248 Key to Havoc
Do it, he thought, interested in what Ennui contemplated.
Meanwhile, Chief had answered. "True."
Gale2 quietly hiked up her skirt and parted her thighs, opening a view to him. Chief was nominally looking at Ennui, but he could see peripherally, and that image was being broadcast to all of them. Gale2 was a healthy young woman; she had excellent legs, and as she picked up his appreciation, she slowly shifted her posture to improve the view further.
"And you would never compare any such accidental sight to anything you had seen before," Ennui said.
"True." But prompted by her suggestion, that comparison was being made. A girl in a gray dress, playing Tickle & Peek, teasing the young man of two decades ago by showing more than she needed to. Her body was not yet completely full, but her legs were leading the way, thickening nicely in the upper thighs. Tell him, Throe.
"Her name was Tulip, and she was only twelve, but well developed in certain respects," Throe said. "What a crevice she showed, without underclothing! And you were not allowed to Touch, only to Peek. You got so excited you had to have it. She gave it to you, but you had to wash her dishes for a week."
Chief was chagrined. "That's showing? In my mind?"
Havoc. "It is showing," Havoc assured him. "She had a lock of hair that sometimes curled around her nose. Her face wasn't much, but her breasts were well formed if not large, and her thighs were classic, for her age."
Gale. "She used to meet you in a storage shed," Gale2 said. "You tried to stay away, but couldn't, and when she got you alone, she lay on a box and opened her legs, like this--" She spread her knees far apart. It was most effective; Havoc saw the juncture through Chief's mental image, enhanced by memory, heavily tinged by lust.
"And made you commit to more of her chores before she let you get between them," Ennui concluded. "You hated her for that, but she had your number, or at least your desire. You couldn't keep yourself away."
"Until she found another boy to tease," Throe said. "Then she showed you nothing more. You never get over the frustration."
"And never told anyone else of your humiliation," Gale2 said, closing her legs.
Chief smiled ruefully through the flush on his face. "You mind readers have made your point. I want no one else to read that memory. Drill me on my shield."
"How is mine?" Symbol asked.
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"You were a plain girl, despite your invisibility," Ennui said. "But surprisingly smart. In fact you were way ahead of your classmates. But you learned to conceal it, so they wouldn't hate you."
"Yet when you developed, things changed," Gale2 said. "You became not only beautiful, but popular. But you remembered, and became much more of a tease than Tulip ever was. You delighted in driving boys into frenzies of desire, which you seldom satisfied."
"Meanwhile you pursued political connections," Throe said. "Rather ruthlessly, using your sex appeal to good advantage. Thus you got to be the Representative of your Chroma, at the choice location of the king's court in Triumph."
"And then you vamped King Deal," Havoc said. "Displacing his prior mistresses, despite the invisibility of your flesh. Tight clothing and spot illusion made you phenomenally alluring."
"Some of that you could have known from my case history," Symbol said, though her emotion betrayed her chagrin. "Tell me how I got my name."
Havoc looked, but found no hint. The other minds were similarly blank.
"We can't fathom that," Ennui said after a moment.
"It is under my shield. If any of you ever do fathom it, I will concede defeat."
She beat us, on that, Ennui thought. She let us read only as much as she chose.
"And that is the way it should be," Havoc said. "To let people read your minds, but never realize that there is something missing. A complete shield would be suspicious, and attract further attention." He returned the crown to his head. Symbol had surprised him; she had caught on to the shield mechanism rapidly and well, and demonstrated her expertise.
"You had prior practice," Chief said.
Symbol nodded. "I seduced an officer of the Translucent Chroma, and he repaid me by teaching me the technique. He said I had unusual aptitude."
"You do," Havoc said.
Chief continued to work on it, trying to hide things in his mind, while they tried to pry them out. With that feedback, he made better progress.
When he put a key in one fist, and they were unable to discover reliably which hand held it, he passed the basic level. He had learned to conceal something.
They landed, and the coach was hauled overland to the fringe of a Black Chroma zone. Here everything was dark, as it had been at the new Void volcano. But it was stable, with a thin layer of dust on the surface.
"The blue locusts are devastating black farmland," Havoc said, remembering the summary Symbol had given him. "How can there be farmland, 250 Key to Havoc
when everything has been sucked down a hole?"
"You'll soon see, Sire," Symbol said.
The coach moved, drawn by a blob of darkness that sucked at it. It came to a dark gate, and rolled into a tunnel. Darkness closed in about them.
Then light flared. There was a flame burning in the middle of the coach.
"An illusion candle," Havoc said, catching on.
"It is an Air specialty," Symbol agreed.
"But how can something that isn't real, make something that is, like light?"
"Visual illusion is light, Havoc," she replied. "I'm making a ball of light, and clothing it with the image of a candle. This is elementary Invisible Chroma
magic."
The coach halted. Throe opened the door and they got out. They were in a curving chamber whose walls were black stone. "Here is your apartment," the black man said. "Three bed-chambers open off the main one."
He indicated cave openings.
"What's our itinerary?" Havoc asked Ennui.
"We have a lunch break, and will meet the Chroma Black officials in the early afternoon."
Black women brought black food in. It tasted as was appropriate for its shape: black liquor, black bread, black vegetables, and black pies. Havoc was getting used to the colors of the Chroma, and learning to see things in shades of color.
"Is the whole Chroma underground?" Havoc asked.
"Pretty much, Sire," Symbol replied. "Void eruptions tend to suck mostly from above, because the air reacts most to a sudden vacuum, so the safest region is deep in solid rock. I understand they have tunnels ringing the central hole itself."
"And a net across it to snag some of the things being sucked in," Chief said. "They do well enough."
"Suppose an eruption is larger than they expect, and takes in the surrounding tunnels?"
"Sometimes it happens. But that is a threat all Chroma eruptions of any kind have: too much force, inward or outward. The magic is strongest, closest in, but the danger is greatest."
In due course they met the local Black Chroma leader. He was of course a black man in a black robe.
Havoc already knew the problem, and had been pondering it. But protocol required him to hear it officially from the Black Chroma authority. "I understand you have an interChroma problem," he said.
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"The last local eruption brought in a batch of blue soil, and with it a Blue Chroma pestilence," the man said. "We netted the soil before it was lost, and conveyed it to new farm caves. We did not realize that it contained blue locust eggs. They hatched abruptly, infesting our crops. They seem largely immune to our magic, being of another Chroma."
"Blue creatures are in the Black Chroma, and immune? I thought it would be the intruder's magic that faded."
"Usually it is, Sire. But some vermin develop immunity to magic of any color. It may be that the blue soil gave them magic contrary to ours. We did not realize the extent of the problem until the second generation, when locusts hatched and invaded straight Black Chroma terrain. Now they match our Chroma in color, but still resist our magic. We face the prospect of eradicating our crops and the fertility of the soil itself--or of allowing the vermin to overrun additional farmland. There is already hunger, as we lack sufficient food to maintain our population."
The dragon seed buzzed. There was something wrong here. Havoc could not read the man's mind, because his crown blocked him off. In any event, he did not believe that the man was lying to him. He glanced at Ennui.
She nodded, indicating that she had picked up on something. She couldn't tell him openly, because they had agreed to conceal their infections whenever possible. But she could give him a hint. "Sire, I think we need a better description of the locusts, and the manner they destroy crops."
"That would surely help," he agreed.
"They are very small when they hatch, and stay out of sight. They seek mainly root vegetables, and attack them, one locust to a root. Because this happens underground, we are not aware of it, unless we pull up the root, spoiling its growth. So we wait until harvest time--at which point the locusts have consumed a significant portion of the crop."
"What do they look like?" Ennui asked.
"They have no fixed adult form," the black man said. "They assume the configuration of the root they prey upon. Thus when we harvest a carrot, we discover a locust--in the shape of the carrot. It is a most unpleasant surprise."
"In the shape of the carrot!" Havoc exclaimed, amazed.
"Or the turnip, or potato--whatever root is attacked. To that degree, the locust becomes the vegetable."
Havoc appreciated their distress. "I can arrange for shipments from another Chroma, if you wish. I understand that Silver has a current surplus of food supplies."
252 Key to Havoc
"Sire, this is another problem. We have had bad relations with our neighbor Silver Chroma, and do not want to be beholden there."
"So pride complicates your case."
"Sire, it is true."
Havoc nodded. "I am a barbarian, as you know. In certain ways, I am closer to nature than are the civilized folk. You may not like my suggestions."
"Suggestions, Sire?"
Symbol smiled through her veil. "The king prefers to reason things out, if feasible, rather than to impose solutions that may not appeal. He is giving you the option of declining his solution."
Surprised, the black officer looked at Chief.
"He is a barbarian," Chief said. "King Havoc believes that people have rights."
Somewhat discomfited, the officer faced Havoc. "Sire, we would like to hear your suggestions."
"Do you have a population of wild creatures in the Black Chroma?"
"Yes, of course, Sire. They were the first tunnelers. We have domesticated the more useful ones."
"Do you hunt any for food?"
"Yes, Sire." The man evidently wondered what the point was.
"And you have domesticated creatures raised for meat?"
"Yes, of course, Sire." Even the members of his party seemed to be baffled by his questions. They could not read his mind because of the crown.
"Do your ordinary people participate in the slaughter and preparation of wild or domesticated animals?"
"No, Sire."
"Why not?"
The black man floundered for a moment. "Sire, they--they do not care for the details of bloodshed, gutting, cleaning, or processing."
"But they eat the processed meat?"
"Yes, Sire."
"Then is it fair to say that it doesn't matter what the origin of the meat is, or how it is processed, so long as it is done out of sight?"
"Sire, of course it matters. If the process were unsanitary--"
"Assuming it is done competently."
"Yes, Sire, in that case it does not matter."
"If a locust eats the whole of a carrot and remains in its place, that locust must contain much of the food value of the carrot. In fact it may even have the flavor of the carrot. With proper preparation, it could be eaten in Piers Anthony 253
lieu of the carrot."
"Lovely!" Symbol breathed.
"Sire?" the black officer asked, looking revolted.
"Harvest the locusts," Havoc said. "Consider them to be your crop. If your former crop sustained your population, so will the locusts. You will have no need to be rid of them; you can eat them."
"But Sire!" There was clear consternation in the Black Chroma contingent.
"And to set the example, I suggest that you have your farmers harvest a selection now, and prepare them for the evening meal for my party and its hosts. We shall have a public feast."
Now there was consternation in Havoc's own group. A meal of locusts!
But they could not openly protest.
The black officer saw this. He smiled, a trifle grimly. "Sire, it shall be done." If the king did it, so could others. It was a barbarian dare.
They retired to their quarters for the afternoon. As soon as they were private, the party exploded. "How could you do that to us, Havoc?" Ennui demanded.
"We'll be publicly sick," Gale2 agreed.
"And they will be watching closely, relishing the moment," Chief said.
"However polite Chroma officers are to your face, Sire, their private respect for the king is limited."
"Translation:" Havoc said. "Everybody hates the king."
"It will be a public relations disaster," Symbol said.
Havoc turned to Throe. "You have foraged for food in the wilderness?"
"Yes, Sire. What you recommend is feasible, assuming the locusts do not have inherent poison."
"They shouldn't," Havoc said. "They are just garden variety insects in a new habitat without natural predators. I have seen similar bugs, and eaten them without ill effect."
"Ah, the delights of barbarism," Symbol murmured.
Havoc removed his crown. "Read my experience. They are edible, especially when there is hunger."
Throe, Ennui, and Gale2 read him. "They don't bother you at all," Ennui said, surprised. "They even taste good."
Havoc restored his crown. "Now persuade the other two." He lay down on his bed for a nap.
When he woke, Chief and Symbol were grimly ready to participate. "We're damned if we'll be the first to upchuck," she said. "The Black Chroma con-254 Key to Havoc
tingent will have to eat them too."
"But we do appreciate your name better with the passing of each day, Sire," Chief said.
"Havoc," Symbol agreed. "This should be an interesting meal."
Soon the Black Chroma officer came to escort them to the banquet.
"Our cooks report the locusts to be easy to prepare," he said. "The great bulk of them is almost unchanged vegetable, stored for future use."
The banquet was in a large cave which opened into a porous network of lesser caves. The connecting caves were packed with black citizens, there nominally to honor the visiting king. Well, he would give them a barbarian show.
The platters were brought in. The first was set before Havoc. It contained an artistic array of black vegetables. This was nominally a vegetable meal. But soon other platters revealed pastries and even drinks, all evidently made from locusts. Their substance could be baked or squeezed as well as boiled. The cooks had performed imaginatively.
"By your leave, Sire," Throe murmured, and took a black carrot. He normally took the first bite of food served to the king, to test it for poison;
this was protocol.
Throe bit into the carrot. He chewed. He swallowed. "Sire, it is good."
He meant in more than one sense.
Havoc took the carrot from him and bit into it himself. It tasted just like fresh carrot. It was good. He ate it quickly, evincing enjoyment. Then he drank from a mug of locust berry juice, which was also good. "Your cooks have done well," he said. "There is plenty?"
"There is plenty, Sire," the black official agreed.
Then the other members of his party started eating, at first cautiously, then with increasing satisfaction. So did the black officials. All were pleasantly surprised. The vegetables, both raw and cooked, were excellent.
"Would it be within protocol to share?" Havoc inquired.
"Sire, anything you suggest is within protocol," Symbol replied.
Havoc picked up another carrot, stood, and turned. "I dislike seeing folk stand hungry while I feast," he said. "I invite you to share with me."
Then he tossed the carrot to the nearest person, a well dressed black woman.
Astonished, she caught it. Then, aware that all other eyes were on her, she daintily nipped the black tip of the carrot. In a moment she smiled and took a larger bite, then handed it to her neighbor.
"I invite you to come to this table and take," Havoc said. "The cooks will provide more, so that there will be enough for all."
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The people were hesitant. Havoc walked to the throng, spied a little girl, took her hand, and led her to the banquet table. "Have some cake," he suggested.
Tittering with nervousness and awe, she took a small cake and ate it.
Then, eagerly, she took another. It was obvious that she was not pretending; she liked the food.
"Come on," Havoc said to the crowd. "I know you are hungry. Come share with me." He took a piece of cake himself, took a bite, and stepped away from the table.
They came, at first cautiously, then with a rush. The platters quickly emptied. More were brought in, and these too were consumed. The food was good: now everybody knew it.
Havoc was getting crowded. He took a black baked potato and forged through the crowd, looking for someone not eating. Throe followed unob-trusively, always nervous about crowds. Havoc found a man seated on a bench, whose right foot was in a cast. Havoc took a small bite, then proffered the remainder of the potato. "I believe you are hungrier than I, sir," he said.
There was a murmur of awe from the surrounding folk. The king had brought an ordinary man food! The man took it, awed himself, and bit into it.
He smiled. "Sire!"
"Yes, speak."
"Sire, you have saved us all."
Havoc patted him on the shoulder. "I hope so, sir."
It was some time before they left the banquet. The black officer joined them, conducting them to their quarters. "Sire, you have made an impression," he said.
"Thank you."
"There may have been those among us who thought unkindly of the king. There are none now, Sire."
That was all. It was enough. "Parting," Havoc said.
The man paused, then figured it out. "Acknowledged, Sire." He departed.
When they were alone again, Symbol spoke for the others. "Sire, you were right and the rest of us were wrong. It is good food, and I think the gratitude of the Black Chroma will endure for a century."
"The next crisis is the tough one," Havoc said. "Chief, is the White Chroma going to back down?"
"No, Sire."
"Can the other Chroma successfully invade White?"
256 Key to Havoc
"Yes, Sire, but at horrendous cost. No Chroma can invade another without being at a serious disadvantage. We shall have to use nonChroma personnel and weapons against their science magic."
"What's the alternative?"
"Blockade, Sire. We can cut them off from all other Chroma and all nonChroma terrain. If they try to break it, they will be at a similar disadvantage. Eventually they will capitulate."
"You are talking decades, not months."
"Yes, Sire. The White Chroma zones, like all others, are scattered randomly around the planet. It requires a considerable effort."
"During which time, chances are there will be a new king, with a new attitude. So they could win their independence, by endurance."
"Yes, Sire."
"Why not just let them be independent?"
"Because of the precedent, Sire. If they were to succeed in establishing independence, other Chroma might have the same idea, and the kingdom would inevitably fragment."
"Why not let it fragment?"
"Spoken like a true barbarian," Symbol said.
Chief was ready. "From the time of first colonization, it has been policy to maintain a united planetary kingdom. This is in case there should be an invasion from space, and to keep the species unified. As it is, the several Chroma barely get along, and there could be constant warfare at the fringes, were there not an overriding planetary authority."
"Wouldn't the Chroma unify if they faced a common threat?"
"Perhaps, Sire. But they would be depleted by their internecine struggles, and less able to handle a significant common threat. There is also the matter of biological unity. As we have seen, Sire, the members of each Chroma are already distinct from each other in color, and perhaps in other ways. Our species will soon be biologically fragmented, unless we maintain a central authority that constantly integrates our species."
"Does that explain why a barbarian was hauled in from a far village to be king?"
"Yes, Sire. To be examined for the role. All parts of the kingdom need to be represented."
"So we had better bring White back into the kingdom, or suffer long term planetary consequences."
"That is the nature of the crisis, Sire."
"I think I'll go for double or nothing."
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"Sire?"
"I'm going to bring them back without war or siege, or let them go.
Either way, it will be quick and clean."
"Sire, I see no quick and clean way to bring White back."
"That's because you're not a barbarian."
Ennui looked at him. "I dare you to take off that crown, Havoc."
"You wouldn't catch my thought," he said. "It's shielded."
"If I understand you correctly, Sire," Chief said, evidently a bit nettled,
"you have a strategy that should catch White by surprise, if it catches us by surprise."
"Yes. Now I shall clean up and turn in."
"I'll wash you," Gale2 said.
"No need. You're not a bath girl any more. You're your own barbarian woman."
"That's why I'll wash you."
He laughed. She joined him in the bathroom, and washed him in the steady shower of warm water. When he got an erection she hugged him, naked and slippery, her full breasts exciting him further. She lifted her legs and straddled him, neatly taking him into her. "Would a mere bath girl ever do this?" she inquired teasingly.
"I never thought to ask her," he said, intrigued.
"I wanted to do it, back then," she confessed. "You had such a handsome member, so eager to be accommodated. But I could oblige only if you asked.
Now you don't have to." She kissed him.
He held off on the culmination. "When this tour is done, and Gale returns, and you wash me--"
"You will have to ask," she said. "It's the rule. I can't suggest."
"But what about the other girls?"
"You will ask them to do it?" she inquired severely.
"No! I mean, what will they think?"
"They will be insanely jealous."
He laughed. "Take off my crown."
"But I will slide down if I don't hold on tight."
"I'll support you." He linked his fingers behind her back, then drew them into her spread bottom, holding her close.
She reached up, her breasts rising to nudge his chin, and lifted off his crown. Her passion smote him, multiplying his urgency. He worked her bottom, lifting and dropping it, and exploded inside her.
"Oooh!" she moaned. "I felt that!" She meant that she had experienced 258 Key to Havoc
his climax mentally. "Hang on!"
He hung on--and experienced her climax, following his, longer and slower, less intense, but possessed of similar total pleasure. They had had it both ways, for an experience that could never have happened without the mind sharing.
She replaced his crown, then slid back down to the floor. "Now there's more washing to do," she said, feigning grumpiness.
"Sorry about that."
"I should make you clean me up."
"I'll start here." He grabbed the soap and stroked it over her breasts.
"Give me that." She took the soap back and squeezed it between his thighs as though it were a penis. Soon they were in a slippery struggle for the
soap, their bodies making odd connections.
Eventually they finished, and toweled each other dry. "I will ask," he promised, remembering her offer. Even True Gale would be hard pressed to match this experience, unless she caught the mental disease.
Ennui appeared. "It's about time you two finished," she said. "Do you realize what you were doing to our minds?" She turned her head to call over her shoulder. "Come on, Chief. We're older, but maybe we can still do it."
Havoc had forgotten that others could eavesdrop mentally. But no harm was done.
"Wail till Throe tries to make it in the shower with Invisibility," Gale2
said.
"I heard that." It was Symbol's voice. She had stripped, and in the partial light was indeed invisible.
"Wait your turn!" Ennui called from the shower.
"Then get it on, girl!"
Havoc paused. Gale2 nudged him. "Go ahead, Havoc. Take it off.
They snooped on us."
He lifted off his crown, and the two of them tuned in on the emotions in the shower. Their own bodies were depleted, but the feelings felt almost as real. Then they picked up on the third set, as Symbol and Throe took their turn. Each climax was different, in its fashion. It was as good as a holograph show. In fact, they might have gotten more than two of the participants, because they could read all four other minds, while Chief and Symbol could not read any minds in return. However, they had all practiced hard enough to mask their thoughts and feelings when they chose to, so this voyeurism was really a cooperative effort.
"And we thought this disease was a liability," he said, as he and Gale2
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settled down to sleep.
"Just as the rest of us thought locusts were inedible," she agreed.
Next day they traveled to the largest White Chroma territory, where its designated planetary capital was. Their coach landed at the fringe of a Yellow Chroma territory, and was hauled by shapes of fire to the fringe of the White Chroma territory. The land and vegetation changed from yellow to white.
And there was of course a white man waiting for them. His skin and hair were shades of white, as was his clothing. When he spoke, his teeth were white, as was his tongue.
"A greeting, Sire."
"Acknowledged."
"Please follow me to the train."
They followed him to a metal set of rails, on which rested a huge steaming metal wagon. At least, it had a number of large wheels. Behind it was a cart loaded with billets of wood. Behind that was a rather large metal coach.
They climbed into the coach. It was elegant inside, with padded seats and a central table. "Do you care for refreshment, Sire?" the white man inquired.
"No. I am curious as to the mechanism of motion. Does this coach fly?"
"No, Sire. We do have flying coaches, but not of sufficient size to carry your full party together. But this train will get us there on schedule."
"Train?"
"I shall be happy to explain and demonstrate its operation, Sire, if you wish."
"Yes."
The man reached up and unfastened the ceiling panel. He slid it back, so that the coach was open to the sky. Then he stood on one of the benches, so that the upper third of his body was outside. "If you will join me, Sire, I will
show you."
Havoc stood on another bench and poked his head out the top. From this vantage, he could see the surrounding white countryside, and the metal wagon ahead. A man was piling white billets of wood from the cart into what looked like an oven in the wagon.
"That is the locomotive, Sire," the white man said. "We also call it a steam engine. The wood burns in its furnace, and the heat from it evaporates water piped around it, producing steam. The steam is piped to cylinders connected to the rods which push the wheels. This causes the locomotive to travel forward, and it hauls this car behind it."
260 Key to Havoc
As he spoke, the engine huffed and puffed. A ball of white smoke roiled out of a chimney on its top, and the wheels started to turn. Slowly it pulled the coach forward along the white rails.
"I have never seen such magic before," Havoc said. That was true, but not wholly true; the dragon Mentor had seen it, and described it, without understanding how it worked. Havoc was fascinated.
"Science magic is unlike others, Sire," the white man said. "It honors certain established principles, which we teach our children. They are invariable, except of course that they do not apply beyond our Chroma."
"And operate more strongly toward its center?" Havoc asked.
"True, Sire. Our train will gain velocity as it progresses inward."
So it did. The smoke fairly poured from the stack, and puffs of steam jetted from the cylinders, and the wheels turned rapidly. They were now moving at a considerable speed, indeed, faster than a flying coach. There was a clicking sound, and the coach shook.
"The tracks have junctures," the white man explained. "We try to align them perfectly, but they are never quite perfect, so we feel the shifts when traveling at speed. The effect is harmless."
Satisfied, Havoc ducked back inside the coach. The white man dropped down and slid the panel across, closing the coach. The noise of the locomotive diminished. The coach swayed gently as it moved. Overall it was rather pleasant.
"Si--Havoc," Gale2 said. "Could we--"
"Sure, get up there," Havoc said. "I'll hold your legs."
She climbed onto the bench, and Ennui got on the other. The White Chroma man opened the ceiling panel again, and they stuck their heads out.
Havoc put his hands on Gale2's nice thighs, steadying her.
"Oooo!" she cried, delighted by the view outside, and Ennui's exclamation joined hers. Havoc looked up, and found his own view under her skirt worthwhile.
After a while, Chief and Symbol took their places, becoming regular tourists. Certainly this magic train was interesting.
The train sounded a loud whistle, and slowed. "We are approaching the station," the white man said. "Welcome to Whitecrest, Sire."
The city was of reasonable size, consisting of a number of quite large buildings separated by roads laid down in white patterns. The locomotive station was in its apparent center. They walked to one of those buildings, and were ushered into an appealing apartment suite. They had arrived.
When they were alone, Havoc beckoned the others close. Then he re-Piers Anthony 261
moved his crown. I dislike gambling, but will do so this time. Throe, when I seem to
expose myself to risk, make only token protest. Gale, garb yourself in the tightest, sexiest
manner possible. Ennui, explain privately to Chief and Symbol; have Symbol help Gale
dress. In public, support me without protest. He returned the crown to his head,
cutting off his thoughts from them and any possible snooping by White Chroma mind readers. Mind reading was not a White specialty, but it was better to be safe.
The three who read his mind nodded, not speaking. Havoc went to the bathroom, paying no further attention to them. This was in case they were somehow being watched.
The party cleaned up, had some white food to eat, and was ready for the meeting with the White Chroma leader, the Duke of Whitecrest, at his official residence, the White House. The man was portly and polite. "Greeting, Sire."
"Acknowledged."
"I regret that protocol required you to come this far for so little, Sire. I doubt that we shall be able to come to terms."
"I am sure we will," Havoc said. "What is your interest?"
The Duke smiled. "You are refreshingly direct, Sire. I shall be the same.
Our present interest is in establishing our own independent kingdom, an-swerable only to our own hierarchy. That is all."
"We believe that this would tend to fragment the political and social framework of the planet," Havoc said. "We are reluctant to allow it."
"This is of course our difference," the Duke said. "We wish to have independence, while you wish to incorporate us."
"The other Chroma are not seeking such separation. Why do you?"
Havoc knew the answer, but wanted it on record.
"We believe that we represent Charm's closest approach to the original human stock. We believe that it was science that enabled our species to travel between planets and come to this one. Therefore the White Chroma should govern, so that we will be ready when another human ship comes from space."
Havoc nodded. "I can see your point. Your case is surely reasonable.
Since the other Chroma will not allow you to govern, you prefer to withdraw and govern yourself."
"Exactly, Sire."
"But as I see it, mankind is inherently nonmagical, so the nonChroma people represent the original stock. I therefore support the present system, though I have no desire to be king of it."
The Duke was surprised. "You are king against your will?"
262 Key to Havoc
"Yes. I am a barbarian who has always detested the king and all his works. The tax collectors--"
"The tax collectors!" the Duke agreed, smiling grimly.
"But I will be executed for treason if I do not fill the office and execute it honorably, for a year. So I am doing what I can, hoping after the year to retire and live with my beloved barbarian girl." He put his arm around Gale2, who smiled obligingly, playing her role.
The Duke looked directly at Gale2 for the first time. She inhaled slightly and angled a leg, emphasizing her physical qualities. Symbol had done an excellent job; Gale2 was not only lovely, but eye-catchingly sexy.
"I appreciate your point," the Duke said, his pupils dilating. It was evident that the other members of his party appreciated it and Gale2 also. Beauty had no color. "I wish you success in your endeavor to retire early."
"Thank you." Havoc drew his own gaze away from Gale2's devastating cleavage. "But in order to compile a sufficient record, I must settle this crisis
with dispatch. They will not let me retire honorably if I start a war that continues beyond my year."
"Agreed." The Duke's gaze had not yet managed to leave Gale2; he was clearly feeling amicable for the moment.
"We face difficult alternatives. If we invade, property will be damaged and lives will be lost. If we blockade, your Chroma will be isolated, not only from other Chroma, but from the other portions of itself. Your new kingdom would be fragmented before it started. Meanwhile, the other Chroma would lose the advantage of trading with you, and their tourists would no longer be able to ride your fascinating trains. Your own tourists would no longer get to float over other Chroma or experience the other novelties of magic." Havoc glanced again at Gale2's bosom; it was known that tourists especially liked to have erotic relations with physically attractive folk of other
colors. "These are not pleasant alternatives."
"Agreed." The Duke returned his gaze to Havoc. "We would prefer to live in peace, and conduct trade, and indulge in mutual tourism, as has been the case in the past. But your predecessor would not hear of that."
"Did White have anything to do with King Deal's death?"
There was a sudden silence, as both Havoc's party and the assembled White Chroma officials tried to ignore the open breach of protocol. Such a question was tantamount to an accusation. But the Duke answered. "No."
The dragon seed did not buzz. He was telling the truth. That surely meant that White was not the party trying to kill Havoc. Havoc was relieved, as compromise would have been impossible if the White Chroma was guilty.
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"Then I think we can negotiate an agreement," Havoc said.
"We see no likely compromise. The issue must be decided, one way or the other."
"Agreed. The compromise is in the manner of decision. I propose to settle this matter today, amicably."
"I presume you do not mean simply to let us go."
"That depends. Above all, I want this matter settled. There must be no continuing indecision. You must either be free, or rejoin my kingdom."
"Agreed."
"I propose to settle this by a trial of single combat. Myself against your champion."
"Sire!" Throe protested.
Havoc delivered a sharp glance at the bodyguard. Throe dropped his gaze.
The Duke was clearly taken aback. "Sire, this is intriguing but hardly feasible. We seek no harm to you personally, or to the office of the king. In addition, your crown would make a mockery of any-"
He broke off, for Havoc was removing his crown. "Of course the crown must go," he said. He handed it to Chief. "I realize that you do not wish to provoke the kind of reaction that would occur if others thought you had attacked the king on an official visit. But combat does not have to be dangerous. I am thinking of protective costumes, and blunted weapons. A soft sword point that scores on a marked heart can be considered a lethal strike, if
the parties agree."
The Duke exchanged a glance with other members of his party. One of them spoke. "Sir, the man is a martial artist of considerable competence. We may not have a swordsman in this city to match him."
So the White Chroma had done its homework. "I have issued a challenge," Havoc said. "You thus may have the choice of weapons."
The Duke smiled. "Sire, would you consider a duel with pistols?"
"Describe the weapon."
"Sire, we will demonstrate it, and give you opportunity to practice with it, if you wish." The Duke signaled, and in a moment a man brought a closed white box. He held it while the Duke opened it. Inside were two metal objects with holes at one end and a hand grip on the other.
The Duke picked up one of them. "Sire, this is a pistol. It facilitates an internal explosion which ejects a pellet of metal called a bullet with considerable force, in the direction it is pointed. I will demonstrate."
Another man set up a white target marked with concentric circles, about 264 Key to Havoc
twenty paces from the Duke. The Duke lifted the pistol, did something to it, pointed it at the target, and there was a loud bang that made the other members of Havoc's party jump. A hole appeared in the target.
"This is the manner of it, Sire," the Duke said. "If you care to take a shot yourself, here is the other pistol."
"Yes." Havoc stepped up, took the other pistol, and studied it. "How did you make it pop?"
The Duke approached him. "Sire, if you will, hold it in this manner."
He showed his own weapon. "Put your forefinger here, on the trigger. When you draw it back, it makes the pistol fire. At the moment it is locked, so that
it can not be fired inadvertently."
Havoc held it as prescribed. The device was comfortable in his hand, and his forefinger curled naturally around the trigger. He pointed it at the target. "How do I unlock it?"
"There is a sliding switch on the side."
Havoc slid the switch, aimed the pistol at the target, and pulled the trigger. The thing exploded, kicking his hand back. The bullet clipped the top of the target and drove into the wall beyond. Smoke came out of the pistol, forming a brief pungent cloud.
"I apologize, Sire; I forget to explain about the kickback. When the bullet is propelled forward, the pistol pushes back. It is a reaction typical of
Science, which as you know is our term for what you call White magic. It is necessary to hold the pistol firmly. You will also want to use the sights." He indicated two projections on the top. "When they are aligned on the target, the aim is correct."
"Let me try again," Havoc said.
A white man came and fitted another white bullet into the pistol. Then Havoc aimed again, aligned the sights, and fired. This time the kickback was controlled, and the bullet struck near the center of the target.
"That is impressive, Sire. It normally requires some practice to became accurate."
"I have had experience with a slingshot. This is similar."
"Similar? A slingshot requires two hands."
"This one was mounted on wood, and the band could be stretched and locked in place. So it could be fired with one hand. I became a fair shot."
The Duke looked at the target. "Surely so, Sire. Now of course we would not use these lethal weapons in a contest. We have an alternative: paint-ball six shooters that our children train with. They are less powerful, and less accurate, but operate on a similar principle. When the paint strikes, it
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splatters, leaving a mark. Would you care to examine such a pistol?"
"Yes."
They brought out the six shooters. They looked larger and clumsier than the serious pistols, but were indeed generally similar. They had a barrel which turned a notch after each shot, so that six shots could be fired before they were exhausted. Havoc fired a shot at the target, and it made a black splotch near the bottom right. "This will due. Bring on your champion."
"Sire, if you are truly amenable to this contest, I will represent the White Chroma," the Duke said. "I am experienced with pistols. However, we must don protective garb, as even a paintball can cause damage if it strikes a vulnerable part, such as an eye."
"Bring on the garb."
While white personnel put the white padded clothing on the two of them, they established the terms of the contest: They would face away from each other, each would walk ten paces, and stop. When a bell rang, each would be free to turn and fire. As it was not easy to hit a moving target at that
range, they would try to get closer, firing at will. The first to make a
"lethal"
score would be the winner.
"If you win," Havoc said, "I will drop my objection to the separation of the White Chroma and recognize your independence without rancor. There will be no war, and no interruption of trade or tourism. This will continue as long as I am king. If I win, you will end your rebellion and recognize my authority over you as king, as it has been before--as long as I am king."
"What thereafter?" the Duke asked.
"I can't speak for the next king. He may allow the existing compromise to stand, or choose to disown it. As may you. This is a temporary measure, intended to keep the peace during my tenure. But it may be possible to hold a similar contest, to establish the status during the tenure of that following king."
The Duke nodded. "This seems fair enough. Now we need witnesses to the agreement and the encounter, to ensure fairness. They should be from other Chroma."
Havoc glanced at Symbol. "Here is the Invisible Chroma representative." Symbol stepped forward, lifted her hat, and bowed, so that all could see
inside her head.
The Duke signaled, and in a moment a red man stepped forward. "Here is a visitor from the Red Chroma who will also serve." The red man pursed his lips and blew. A small red cloud of vapor emerged, formed into a floating face, and stuck out its tongue.
266 Key to Havoc
"That's not illusion," Symbol said. "It's ectoplasm. He's genuine. He has a red stone." Ennui was already nodding; she had verified it from the man's mind.
The Duke looked around. "Their reports should be sufficient, if they agree."
Symbol and the red man nodded.
Havoc and the Duke walked to the center of the chamber. A white official met them there. "I will count the paces. Do not turn until I ring the bell. I will announce the strikes as they occur. A strike on a limb will negate
the further use of that limb but will not end the contest. A strike to the center of the head, chest, or gut will be deemed lethal; a strike to the edge will
be partial. Two partial strikes will be considered lethal."
They took their places, holding their pistols. "One." Havoc stepped forward, and knew that the Duke was doing the same. "Two." He stepped again.
After the tenth step he stopped. He saw Throe and Gale2 about ten paces farther out, part of the great circle that had formed. Gale2, seeing his glance, issued a tentative smile.
The bell rang.
Havoc leaped to his left, turning in the air. He dived to the floor, rolling.
He heard a shot, and saw a black splotch appear just beyond him. Had he been slower, it would have scored.
He rolled back to his feet, reversed course, and charged toward the Duke, who was standing still, taking aim. Havoc dodged, pointing his pistol--and the Duke quickly ducked. But the effort was wasted; Havoc hadn't fired. He was now about twelve paces from the other, and could probably score from here, but wanted to get closer.
The dragon seed buzzed. Havoc dropped to the floor, and the paintball sailed just over him. The Duke was a good shot, and was not being misled by Havoc's motions; he would soon score.
Havoc scrambled toward the man, then leaped up, and threw himself down again. But this time he wasn't quite fast enough. The Duke's third shot caught his right upper arm as he rolled away.
"Strike!" the referee called. "King's right arm."
Havoc immediately reached across with his left hand and took the pistol.
He continued to roll, so as not to present a stationary target. He had to do it
with his legs, as he was letting his right arm drag, and holding the pistol with
his left. Then without getting off the floor, he paused, aimed, and fired, left
handed. He fired all six shots in rapid order, going from the Duke's left to his
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right, halfway up.
One of them scored low on the Duke's padded chest. "Lethal strike!"
the referee called. "Match to King Havoc."
There was a smattering of applause from both White and nonChroma spectators. They appreciated a good fair fight.
"That was a considerable gamble," the Duke said. "Had you missed, I would have had leisure to catch you without concern about return fire."
"It was my most likely score," Havoc said, getting up. "You were too careful; I couldn't fool you much longer."
"The White Chroma yields," the Duke said with excellent grace. "Good match, Sire." They shook hands.
Then Gale2 was virtually flying across the arena to hug him, almost flopping out of her scant costume. The men of the White Chroma were watching her progress with appreciation. "You did it, Havoc!" she exclaimed breathlessly.
"Just doing my job," he said. But he was quite pleased. He had handled all four crises expeditiously, and now maybe could relax.
Except for that business of the anonymous enemy who was stalking him.
268 Key to Havoc
ale's body danced on. Parts of her were hurting now, as the demon made it exert itself beyond ordinary limits. The succubus didn't care whether Gale hurt; she needed this body for only a few minutes. Then she would throw it away.
She whirled in air and landed directly before Lad. She opened her arms to him. Come to me, my idiot youth, the demon thought.
Almost, he did so. He started to step forward. The demon could not touch him; he had to touch her. He had to do it himself.
"Her Dance of Air complete, the succubus offers herself to Lad," Leader said, not realizing how literal it had become. "He is sorely tempted, but manages to resist, knowing that she will suck out his soul with his semen. He holds his place."
Lad, hearing that, put his foot back down. He was following the script.
Damn! It was the demon's thought. She had lost the first siege, though not by much.
"Undismayed, the succubus proceeds to the second stage of the temptation, the Dance of Earth," Leader continued.
Gale's body turned around, facing away from Lad. Now she treated him G