01. Spirits of Flux and Anchor (30 page)

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certain. This time, for the first time, a known and guarded gate would be totally in the hands of the Seven, making only three to go. If it worked here, it would work, with variations, elsewhere- The long centuries of frustration would be nearing an end.

Now she redid her hair, applied perfumes and make-up, then went back into her office, lifted the sewing machine off its cabinet, reached in and took out three medium-sized pill bottles. She re- moved one pill from each, then replaced them in their hiding place and resecured the sewing machine. She went back into the living room area, turned on the small entertainment console and took a tiny clear cube no larger than her thumb nail and put it in the device. Standing there, she dictated a long string of sentences, then programmed the device. It would play until she shut it off, but when she shut it off it would self-erase.

She poured herself a whiskey and soda, then took the three pills, then went over and turned on the recorder to playback and sat back in a large, comfortable chair, feet up.

It took several minutes for the pills to take effect, and she just lay there, relaxed, and let them do their job. The recorder kept going, and, finally, it was the only thing in her mind.

"All memory gone, floating, relaxed, so pleasant, so free of any thought, any worry, anything at all, just feeling so, so good and relaxed... . You are Sister Daji, and she alone is you now. Let her come, let her become you, flow into you, so that she alone is in control. . .." Then came a series of instructions to Daji, an explanation of the falcon and perch, and an account of what she had been doing these past three days. She drifted into a deep, deep hypnotic trance.

Haldayne had created Daji by working in Flux with the real one, before he transformed her into another of his creatures. The Daji persona was

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then transferred, also in Flux, to her, where it resided, complete but separate from her. No chances could or would be taken of any compromise in her identity, which was totally submerged, inactive, until brought forth again by a special trigger com- mand given by Haldayne or one of his agents or another of the Seven.

And so the woman who awoke with a start in the chair was not an agent, nor did she even know what the Seven were. She was, in fact, a carbon copy of the original Daji, a woman with the body of a goddess, the mind of a child, and an insatiable worship of and lust for older women. The agent of Hell had not minded. Otherwise, this sort of life would have been unbearable.

The woman in the chair frowned, annoyed by the prattle of the recorder. She got up, went over to it, and shut it off. The recording on it erased automatically. She popped out the small module, picked another at random and popped it in. A lively tune began playing, which she started hum- ming along with and dancing to. Eventually she tired of the game and went into the Sister General's office and walked up to the sleeping falcon. "Oooo, my pretty birdie! Daji's just gonna love you to death."

It was well into the night, and the Sister Gen- eral had long ago returned. Now both she and Daji were asleep on the bed in the next room, and the entire complex was in darkness save for a small nightlrght in the commode.

Deep below the temple, below the sub-basement and foundation itself, below even the glassy-smooth rock base, something triggered on. Now there was a slight hissing noise in the sub-basement itself, and in the area marked in dull chalk in the empty and damp room a form took shape. None in An- chor could see the form, and none in Flux would

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want to. It was a creature of pure energy, yet so terrible was it to gaze upon that humans would go mad at the sight, could they see it at all. Slowly it looked around, not seeing as things of flesh and blood saw but sensing energy and receiving direc- tion- Slowly, it stepped off the chalk-marked area in the floor and up to the door. Although the light was still switched off, the lone hanging bulb sud- denly glowed.                               ;

It paused only a moment at the door, then seemed to flow under it and out the other side. Once in the corridor, which itself became lit as the bulbs re- ceived the energy from the creature, it moved slowly and deliberately down to the far end, where a complex of machinery whined dully. It merged carefully with the power grid, not wanting to over- load it, although those still awake not only in the Temple but throughout the capital's electrically powered area frowned and noticed lights seemed to be burning brighter and electrical devices seemed to speed up slightly.

Firmly in the power grid, the creature rode it, searching the entire Temple area until it came upon the one place it was searching for. The tiny nightlight in the Sister General's bathroom glowed, then flared and burnt out, as the creature entered, but other lights came on in their ghostly fashion. In the bedroom, one of the sleeping women gave a muffled cry, turned over, and was soon fast asleep

again.

The creature was not heading for the bedroom, but for the Sister General's office. The rear area was again in darkness as the lights in the office came eerily to life.

The Soul Rider inside the sleeping bird read the intense energy field and was confused. It knew the nature of the creature, but could not comprehend how it had gotten here. Still, it understood that the unknown power that directed its destiny had

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sent an ally, although it was unprecedented in form. The Guardians of the Gates of Hell were in fact creatures of Flux with a specific mission, and to have one detach itself from that mission was almost impossible to believe.

The Soul Rider sensed the Guardian, but had no common language to speak to it, if, indeed, such a creature had speech. Still, when the Rider under- stood that the Guardian was about to touch its host, it screamed out, "No! Do not destroy the host!"

Energy touched the sleeping bird, and engulfed it, then transformed it. Matter became energy, and the stronger of the three entities now carried the other two in a manner that had no words to describe. Back again they went to the bathroom, and into the electrical system at the nightlight. Again, all electrical devices flared in the capital, and in the wardens' security office the alarm board rang. The startled warden looked up at the board, which showed every single alarm in the Temple triggered all at once, with all the tiny lights flash- ing on and off. "Damn!" she swore. "A stinking short on my shift!"

Below, the Guardian emerged once more from the power grid and walked to the door in the sub-basement, then flowed under it and back to the chalk-marked area. The area glowed for a moment, and then they were in the tunnel at the gate to Hell itself.

The Guardian moved swiftly up the tunnel, which blazed with light, then up through the hole and into the air above the saucer-like depression. The Soul Rider and its companion were flung high into the air and out, away from the gate and into the void.

The Soul Rider was confused and bewildered, but lost no time in acting. Having been present at the casting of the spell on its host it knew the

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counter, and rushed it into form, with modifica- tions to suit the occasion. It did not understand what had just occurred, but it certainly knew why.

The energy that had been transformed from mat- ter became matter again, reconstituted. Cass burst into sudden consciousness, remembering everything, including the details of what had happened while she was in bird form, although it all seemed distant, unreal, almost like it had happened to someone else. Her last clear personal memory had been going into the hotel room in Globbus.

Instinctively she stretched out, and was startled to find that she did indeed have wings. So she was still a bird, and it had been no dream, but she was now in Flux, thinking, remembering, and free. Sh^ wondered how she had gotten here, since the last bird memory was the Sister General and Daji playing with her, then hooding her to sleep, but here she was, suddenly whole in mind and flying through the void.

Only it wasn't a void.

Below she saw the void as wizards and stringers saw it, a criss-crossing network of complex lines of differing colors and intensities. They had an insub- stantial look to them, much the same as the after- image of a swinging light, but they were fixed in place and could be followed.

She banked and circled a moment, staring at the patterns, flying as if it was the most normal and natural thing in the world to her, but she felt some concern. She knew she had to get back, to warn Matson and the others, but which of those strings led to Globbus? Which to Persellus? Which to other places, perhaps Anchor Logh itself?

Although there were countless secondary strings, there were only three main ones, so she picked one at random and followed it, hoping it would lead eventually to someplace that would orient her. Although there were no real landmarks except the

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occasional patterns in some of the secondary strings, she knew that she was flying abnormally fast and realized that she was feeling neither hunger nor thirst. The Flux was supplying all the energy she required.

She was upon it almost before she realized it, breaking through into Anchor, At that moment she felt herself start to drop like a stone, and with great difficulty she turned herself back into the void, thankful that she had had enough altitude to make it in time. Strength and that curious sense of weightlessness returned. Now, at least, she knew where she wasi for below her as she'd started to fall had been the apron and gate to Anchor Logh-

Now two main trails led from Anchor, and she pikd the right-hand one, remembering Matson's comment that Globbus and Persellus were almost the same distance from the Anchor. She realized after a bit that she still wasn't certain if this was the route to Persellus or to Globbus, but she had no choice now but to follow it and pray that there were no other forks. Suddenly she passed over two figures, odd enough to see along any route in the void. She was going too fast to tell much about them, but banked, slowed, and approached them again, flying high enough, she hoped, to avoid their detection but just low enough that when she banked and came around again she could see more about them.

Both were mounted on horses with just saddle- bags for their gear. One was a young, handsome man dressed in riding clothes who had a full, light beard. The other was a small, well-built woman, bare from the waist up but wearing a broad- brimmed hat and blue denim work pants. She rec- ognized the figure. Suzl! But who was the other man? An agent of Haldayne's, or one of Mervyn's men? After all this, she decided she had to risk an appearance. At least these two, alone, would be

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easier to deal with if the man were an enemy than an armed and wizard-filled camp suspicious of everything and likely to shoot first and ask ques- tions afterwards. She came around again and this time dipped low in front of them, so both coutd see her. She saw their faces look forward and up, and their mouths droop, but they made no hostile moves. Both riders, however, stopped, and she cir- cled once more as they watched and landed right in front of them.

With a shock she saw that she was as large as they were, if not even larger. They stared at each other for a moment, and she wondered if she could speak. Finally she said, "Suzl?" It sounded right.

Suzl frowned. "Cass? Is that really you? Hoty Mother of Universes! What in hell happened to

you?" Feeling a little relieved, she responded, "First,

who's that with you?"

The young man chuckled. "Why, my dear, I am Mervyn." His voice changed, taking on the old man's low, broken cackle. "We are what we choose

to be in Flux."

She looked back at Suzl. "Is that right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Second biggest shock I ever had. You're the third. What happened to you at the hotel? Who changed you into -- that?"

"I'm not sure what 'that' is," she told them honestly. "Some sort of bird, I guess."

"Some sort, yes," Mervyn agreed, and made a gesture. Between them appeared a huge mirrored surface, and she could see herself.

Her body was that of a giant falcon, and her arms were wings, but her underside, raised up and facing them, was human all the way, and she had her own face, although feathers replaced hair on her head. She stared at the reflection for a mo- ment more in wonder than in shock or horror.

"The only reason I didn't bring you down was

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because I sensed the Soul Rider still inside you," the wizard told her. "It has certainly delivered you from evil." The mirror vanished, and both riders dismounted and sat down, relaxing. "Now, then, tell me all that you have been through. Spare nothing."

She went into extreme detail, although it still seemed like a dream to her. When she finished the wizard just nodded and sat thoughtfully for a moment. Finally he said, "It is very clever. It is. in fact, diabolical. It should have worked completely, for I know that white a Soul Rider can exist in Anchor its powers there are minimal and mostly involved in influencing specific actions of others. I would love to know how you escaped, how it escaped."

"I'm not sure / do," Cass replied. "I don't have any real memories between the time they stuck that hood over me until I was suddenly flying in the void, but there's a sense there of something --  terrible. I really can't describe it."