01. Spirits of Flux and Anchor (20 page)

Cass still found it hard to get used to the sight of him like that -- a true god, huge and musclebound, looking and sounding like a man who lifted weights casually and bent steel to relax, except in that one area. And that, of course, was his problem. The big, strong he-man was going to have to have peri- ods explained to him. It was rather clear now what the goddess meant when she said she would "perfect" what Rory Montagne had done to him.

Later, a bit cleaner, they went shopping, both picking plain, practical clothes, such as tough denim pants and simple work shirts. They also picked up toiletries and various portable packing kits for their stuff. Neither overdid it, wanting to be able to travel light if they had to. Both also picked high boots that gave good protection and support, but only Cass picked fairly high heels which gave her a little extra height. She still did not come up to his broad shoulders, but it made her feel a little more even with the world. She also selected a dark brown flat-brimmed hat with a string tie to secure it while riding, and a hand-tooled leather belt with a plain silvery oval buckle, just because she liked the look of it.

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Afterward they ate at one of the recommended cafes and found the food quite good although rather plain and unvaried, except for a seeming national passion with fancy pastries. Obviously, the god- dess loved fancy pastries.

After sundown, however, the whole city just plain died. There was no nightlife at all, and no real diversions. It was clear from their shopping expedi- tions that the people of Persellus lived for their jobs and families and did very little else recrea- tionally. Not that they weren't an apparently happy lot, but they seemed content with everything as it was and doing what they were doing and had no real curiosity, ambition, or even much of a competi- tive spirit. When looking for her belt, a leather shop had directed her to another down the street, for example.

Reading matter seemed to consist mostly of book after book of the goddess's musings, aphorisms, ramblings, and the like, most of which was tough going and made very little sense. There appeared to be little education beyond basic skilled trades and reading and writing for business reasons. They didn't need doctors because when they got sick or injured they just prayed to the goddess and she healed them. They didn't need scientists or engi- neers, because everything worked through the goddess's magic, even the water and electricity. Smoking, drinking, dancing, gambling, even basic entertainment like plays was forbidden, and foul language was strongly discouraged, which made Dar realize what a gaffe he'd pulled in using the very mild "hell" in the "presence" of the goddess herself.

It was, in fact, so deadly dull a town filled with such incredibly dull people that it almost drove. both of them nuts. Even the humdrum farm life of Anchor Logh was a thrill a minute compared to this place. By the end of the second day they were

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both so bored that they decided on the third 'day to rent horses and see a little of the countryside.

But the countryside, too, had the same dull same- ness as the town. The only problem they had was occasional small bouts of vertigo now and then, after which something would be slightly changed. Mountains seemed a bit taller one time than another, houses seemed to grow and shrink now and then, and when they got back to town there were minor, subtle differences in the look of the buildings and even the people.

"The best guess I can make," Cass said when they were back in their hotel room, where the furniture and fixture designs seemed very slightly different, "is that since this land is entirely the product of the goddess's imagination, she some- times makes little changes now and then, like re- decorating a room. Or maybe it's just that, like us, she remembers things a little differently than they really were, and, unlike us, how she remembers them is how they become."

"Still thinking of staying here and Finding a job?" Dar asked her. They had not really discussed the future.

She shook her head. "Nope. I think when Matson gets here I'll ask for some suggestions and, if I can afford it, travel along with him for a little while until I find a place I can really settle. You?"

"Oh, I'll come along, I guess. I sure can't see somebody like me fitting in around here, that's for sure. Oh, maybe if I joined the army or something like that, I might make do, but I could never call this home or fit into their family pattern. I don't think she had me staying around in mind." He sighed. "I wonder if there is a place where I'd fit in?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. I'd like to know what a Soul Rider is, though. Nobody around here seems to know anything about it."

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"Maybe Matson will. He's been around and seen everything, and he'll be in tomorrow."

She nodded. "None too soon, either." She thought a moment. "You sure about coming with Matson, though? I mean, there'll be all those Lanis, and they sure aren't the kind of people Persellus would want."

"I've licked that, I think. Look, I'm part Lani and part me. If I can't take people who look like her, then I may as well pack it in, right?"

She couldn't argue with it, but she hoped it was true.

They saw Matson first when they were sum- moned for Rory Montagne's trial. He looked clean and relaxed, although irritated that his cigars could not legally be brought into the Fluxland proper. He looked and felt naked without one stuck in his mouth.

All of them were seated in a comfortably ap- pointed "witness room" well stocked with cold drink and pastries while waiting to testify. They greeted Matson warmly, and he reciprocated in his usually reserved stringer fashion, but when he asked how they liked Persellus and both silently spelled out "D-U-L-L" he had to chuckle. Finally Cass got around to business. "How much for a ride with your train?"

Matson grinned. "A week ago you'd have paid your arms and legs not to be anywhere near my train, now you're offering money to get back in?"

"As passengers, not cargo," she was quick to point out. "There's a big difference."

He thought a moment. "Well, Persellus money's not much use to me, although I could credit it to an open account here in the name of Anchor Logh and get something more transportable in return. Tell you what -- if you supply your own horses and packs, and buy what supplies you'll need for at

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least a week's travel, I'll take you along'as duggers --  without pay, of course. You're both pretty good with animals and Jomo's got more than his hands full with the nearly double-sized train, even though we're going to pare it down a bit here. We'll try and give you a few shooting and close fighting lessons, too. How's that?" He paused a moment. "But no hysterics over the human cargo, no going nuts seeing people who look like other people, things

like that."

"I'll be good," Dar responded, knowing who that was directed towards. "I've done some real think- ing in the past few days, and I'm not the same person inside that I was."                 >

That settled, Cass asked, "How come they're going through all this formal trial business for that scum? Why not just let the goddess deal with him and be done with it?"

"Well, now, that's kind of hard to explain," Matson replied. "First of all, he's a wizard. A real puny one, I admit, but a real one nevertheless. There's a sort of a fraternity that all real wizards belong to, mostly to protect them from each other. They've got their own rules, and their conduct has to be judged by other wizards of equal or greater rank before they can be disciplined. It sounds stupid, I know, but every one of them does things all the time that might be considered criminal to others, so they insist on being judged by their own standards. Next time one of the judges might be in the dock, so he or she wants to make sure that they followed the rules when they were judges- See?"

The door to the courtroom opened and a tall, distinguished-looking man entered. He looked to be in his late forties or early fifties but in excellent condition for that age. In fact, age had been very kind to him, and he was lean and handsome, his silvery gray hair complementing his dark com- plexion.

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"I am First Minister Haldayne," he told them. "I am, in effect, the prosecutor in this case." He picked up one of the gooier pastries and ate it. "In a few moments we'll be calling direct witnesses. Just tell everything exactly as it happened, adding or sub- tracting nothing, and don't volunteer anything. Just answer what questions are asked, and let me be your guardian against defense questions. Above all, don't get emotional if you can help it, making moral judgments on the defendant or calling him names. The standards here are a bit different than in a normal court of law." They all nodded, and he left, then returned a few moments later. "Mr. Matson, if you please."

Matson went in and the door closed, and both Cass and Dar regretted not being able to see or hear anything. They were used to open, public courtrooms.

Matson's testimony apparently didn't last long, and Cass was called next. Haldayne offered his left hand to her to help her up from her overstuffed chair, and as she stood she noticed on his right hand a small but distinctive gold ring. Suddenly she remembered that he'd eaten the pastry with his left hand as well.

She had little time to reflect on it, though, as she was ushered into what appeared to be a tradi- tional courtroom, although with a board of three women and two men acting as judges, and no jury. Haldayne examined her on the facts, and she told her story, almost absently, trying not to be fixated on the man himself but unable to totally betray her preoccupation. The more he talked, the more he moved, the more she was sure.

Rory Montague looked relaxed in the dock, act- ing as if this somehow did not concern him at all. He had given a slight smile and wave when she'd entered, and listened to her testimony while ab- sently gnawing on an apple. If she was right, she

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thought nervously, he had every reason to be unconcerned.

The defense put only a few clarifying questions to her, then she was dismissed, and Haldayne led her back to the jury room and called Dar. When the door closed again, she turned to Matson and whispered, "That man Haldayne -- he's the goat- headed boss! I'm sure of it!"

Matson frowned. "Haldayne? But he's the big- wig around here, the most powerful wizard in the land, second only to the goddess herself."

None the less, she outlined her reasons and her instincts, and he did not dismiss them. "It both fits and it smells," he told her- "The trouble is, we'll need a lot more proof than you can give for it, and I'm not sure how to get it. Do you think he knows you suspect him?"

"He could hardly ignore it. I wasn't being very subtle, I'm afraid."

"Hmmm.. .. Well, even if he is our man, he's unassailable as he is, but if he's as good and as careful as he has to be he won't want to leave any loose ends."

She looked at him nervously. "You mean he might try and come after me?"

Matson nodded. "I think you better buy what you need this afternoon and get down to my train. Just follow the road the way you came in. I'll try and clear my business this afternoon and get back there. If he's really one of the Seven in this kind of control this close to a Hell Gate somebody will have to be notified. Damn! I wasn't headed that way, but after GlobbusJ think we'll have to take a detour to Pericles. Well, maybe it won't be a total loss. Pericles always likes fresh young women,"

She looked up at him sharply. "Watch it!"

He shrugged. "No moral judgments, remember? Besides, there's a lot worse places to wind up than Pericles. But you watch it from now on. He may

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try anything at any time,, and if he is our man and if he's also what he claims to be, he's one of the most powerful wizards on all World. He'd have to be just to reach First Minister in Persellus." He thought it over. "Still, if I were him, I wouldn't touch you at all. It'd give him away, where all we have now are strong and unsupported suspicions."

She suddenly remembered the goddess's com- ments on her. "Matson? What exactly is'a Soul Rider?"

The question took him by surprise. "Huh? Where'd you hear about them?" "The goddess said I had one inside me." His mouth dropped and a light seemed to dawn in his head. "So that explains it! I was wondering if I was too long in this job or what. Uh huh. A Soul Rider. Well I'll be.. .." "You do know, then!"

He nodded. "More or less. They are -- creatures. Not much is known about them, except that they're parasites of some kind and they hate the Seven so much they get their hosts in a whole lot of trouble. One picked you, probably back in the Anchor, and most of what happened after that was at least partly its doing."

She grew nervous. "Parasite. Will it -- hurt me?" He chuckled. "Well, depends on how you look at it. Supposedly they pick people, ordinary people, and get inside them, and all of a sudden those people get into a whole lot of trouble. Things hap- pen to them that wouldn't happen to most folks in a lifetime. Now I know you're on to something here with this Haldayne fellow."

She felt very uncomfortable. "Then, it might have been this Soul Rider that caused me to find the Sister General fixing the lottery in the first place? And the reason Dar took me and only me when he ran?"