01. Spirits of Flux and Anchor (5 page)

And so she had fled, quite naturally, to the Holy Mother, where all this was instantly transformed in her mind. Nobody else wanted her, but the Holy Mother did. She felt this with such a sense of conviction at revealed truth that she never doubted for a moment that the Holy Mother and Her blessed Angels were speaking straight to her. Come to the

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mother church, they seemed to whisper to her. Come to the church and banish all insecurity, all fear, all uncertainty. Give us your soul, and we will guide your destiny perfectly.

It was suddenly all so simple, so clear in her. mind. A sisterhood of equals, bound together in piety and love. Reason fled and was replaced by 'emotional ecstasy. As if in a dream she got up, bowed again to the altar, then went to the sacristy door and then through it into the Temple complex itself. She had never been back there before, and she was thinking not at all, so she just walked in search of a priestess, any priestess, to tell her she was ready to commit her life, body and soul, to the church.

There was, however, no one in the back adminis- trative area, for it was meditation time and very late now, and she continued to walk in her daze down darkened halls and up and down flights of stairs. In all that time she met no one, but time had lost its meaning to her and she did not seem to notice the futility of her search.

Finally there was a room down at the end of a hall that was brightly lit and she heard muffled voices coming from it. She walked towards it, but paused nervously in the darkness before going on, some measure of sanity and self-control returning as interaction with other human beings faced her. She had not wavered in her decision, but now she seemed to realize that she was where she had no business being, and she became afraid that the discovery of her presence here, in forbidden quar- ters, might be some sort of violation that would impede or exclude her from the sisterhood.

Cautiously and nervously she peered inside the doorway to see who was in there. The sight almost sent her into shock again, but a far different kind than the one that had churned her emotions only moments earlier.

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Jack L. Chalker

The room was a large one, and three women sat within. The one in a plush, comfortable chair to the left of a projection console would have been instantly recognizable anywhere in Anchor Logh --  but not quite like this.

• Her angelic Highness, Sister General Diastepha- nos, sat in that chair in a state more of undress than anything else, puffing away on a big, fat cigar. Sharing the chair, and equally in a state of undress, was undoubtedly a Temple priestess, and she was essentially sitting on the Sister General's lap. There was no mistaking the placement of this unknown woman's arms and the reciprocated gentle ges- tures from the Sister General.

The third woman in the room was still in her priestly robes, the rich mottled silver of adminis- trative services. She sat at the projector controls, occasionally looking over at several small blinking screens, and appeared totally oblivious to the gro- tesque scene going on just to her left.

Diastephanos sighed. "Enough, Daji. We have to get through this sometime tonight, you know, or we'll be working all the way up the Paring Rite," The other woman untangled herself and got to her feet, pouting a bit like a hurt little child, but she went obediently over to another chair, pulled it up, curled up in it and relaxed to watch. "Next," Her angelic Highness ordered curtly.

The projectionist touched a switch, and a photo- graph of a boy appeared on the screen, under which was an enormous amount of typed data that seemed to be an abbreviated life history. Cassie could hardly suppress a gasp. She knew that boy! She'd gone to school with him!

"Good looking bull," Daji remarked absently in a high-pitched voice that sounded vacuous but was also oddly accented. Her comment was ignored by the others.

"Okay socially, but the brains of a head of

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cabbage," the projectionist noted matte r-of-fact ly, looking down at the screen. "Barely literate, four- teen separate disciplinary incidents starting at age eight. A real brawler. He'd be a good soldier as long as he only had to take orders, not give them."

"Wall guard type, then?" the Sister General suggested.

"Hardly. Oh, sure, if he could be bent into shape, but it's doubtful that he'd be receptive to military discipline."

"Sounds tailor-made, then," the high priestess noted. "Didn't that stringer Matson put in an or- der for replacement field soldiers?"

The projectionist checked her data. "Um, yes. Up to ten for Persellus, if we had them. No sex preference as usual."

"What's it matter out in the Flux? What's the old bitch offering for them?"

"The usual. The goddess, you might remember, has a real gift for duplicating printed circuit boards even though she hasn't the slightest idea what they are or what they're used for. Fratina has been complaining about how she's had to cannibalize a backup unit to keep the water treatment system running, and I could use a couple of extra memory modules. Three like this one and we'll be set on that score."

Her angelic Highness thought for a moment. "Persellus would be close by. How many have we given Matson already?"

"Eleven so far, but they're mostly girls. You know the taste of some of our local customers,."

The high priestess chuckled. "Do I ever! Well, we'll give him muscle-brain here and two others for the parts list you supply -- draw it up and sup- ply the patterns for her. We've got a lot of leeway in assignments with only two stringers but we're in a weaker position. Arden wants a lot of beef, too, if I remember."

Jack L. Chalker

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"Well, there's the two males and two females, perfect physical specimens, for Taladon. For experi- mental purposes, it says here."

"Gad! And we're almost completely through the list now. Looks like we're going to have to have a second run-through and give up some people we don't want to."

The projectionist touched the switch again and a new boy's face and record appeared. "Nope, for- get him," she muttered.

"What? He some kind of genius?"

"No, he's a snot-nosed absolute bastard with an asshole where his brain should be, but he's also Minister Alhred's son."

The Sister General sighed. "Another political goodie! Holy Mother of Heaven! No wonder this takes so long!"

Cassie knew she should turn right now and chalk up her earlier feelings to the shortest religious conversion on record, but her shock and horror at all this was mixed with a horrid fascination as well. The sexual habits of the Sister General were but a momentary shock. As disillusioning as it was to one who had so recently decided to join the church, it was no more than was commonly rumored and whispered about all priestesses by half the population. No, what was the true and total shock was what those women were doing in that room. It was something quite obvious, yet it undercut the very foundation of Cassie's entire system of beliefs, and those of her whole society and culture. They were fixing the Paring Rite! They were exempt- ing the privileged, and evaluating and choosing who would go and who would stay according to their own personal criteria.

She watched as two more boys were evaluated and quickly passed over because they had apti- tudes for jobs that were needed in Anchor Logh. It was obvious by the comments, though, that all of

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these were the finalists in a long selection process that probably began as soon as the numbers had been turned in months ago. These, then, were the worst of the worst, those of The Age who, for politi- cal or personal reasons, were of least use to the Anchor. The fact that a Minister's son, the child of a high-ranking government official, had made it down this far indicated that such a relationship was handy but not a guarantee of safety. It was, rather, a political club to be held over a recalci- trant politician.

Sin, too, was a criteria, but not necessarily for the boy or girl under review. From the off-handed comments about the "orders" they had taken from Fluxlands, whatever they were, for various types, it was clear that being too smart, or asking too many questions about the system and the church, could be just as dangerous as having as much brains as a head of cabbage, Troublemaking par- ents could be punished by having their child chosen, too, the selection being a confirmation by the Holy Mother of their parental sins, while some were chosen simply because they fit a specific require- ment of some other place in need. This was well across the fine line separating natural balance of population in the Anchors and divine punishment from real crime.

This was out-and-out slavery, the selling of hu- man beings as property.

Reluctantly, Cassie decided she'd better get out of there, even though she'd loye to just stay and see who was still to come up on that screen. Maybe -- her? She shuddered at the thought and turned to go, then realized that she was totally and completely lost. How many corridors and stair- ways were there in this place, anyway? She moved as quietly as possible away from the door and towards the nearest stairwell anyway, remember- ing that she'd seen no one on the way and that, at

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least, she might have all night to figure it out. She reached the opening to the stairs, turned in -- and ran smack into two of the largest, meanest-looking Temple Wardens she'd ever seen. Both women, even in the dim light, looked like they could pick her up with one finger each and chew her to bits for lunch -- and enjoy every minute of it. Her heart sank, but she couldn't help wondering just how long they'd been there.

There was no use in even trying to make a break for it. Even if she managed the unlikely feat of getting away from these two, they knew this place inside out and she had no idea where she was. One of the wardens gave a smirk and gestured with her finger for Cassie to turn around and retrace her steps. She had no choice, really, and walked as directed back to the lighted room. She hesitated at the doorway and got a rude shove into the room that almost sent her sprawling on her face.

The three women inside all turned and stared at her. Finally the Sister General said, "Well, well, well.... The sewer rats are growing very large thte year, I see."

"She was pretty blatant about it," one of the wardens noted. "Tripped every alarm on the main board. The only reason she got this far was she got lost real fast. Her trail's so tangled you can't even figure it out on a security chart and floor plan without getting lost yourself."

"How long was she outside the room here?"

"Ten. fifteen minutes. After the first minute, when she decided to stay and watch, we didn't feel there was any reason for interrupting Your Highness before we had to. Actually, we were just going to pick her up on her way out, if she could manage it -- we were betting on that, see -- but she stayed around here so long we figured you'd want to deal with her personally."

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"Oh, yes, I do indeed," the Sister General purred. "Come here, child."

She was none too gently prodded towards the leader of the Temple. When she was standing right in front of the woman, the high priestess reached out and grabbed her arm, pushing back the sleeve and seeing there the slim bracelet that all wore until they were registered.

"It figures," the priestess muttered to herself. "We get two or three a year around this time. Huah, check her out on the board." She looked again at the bracelet and studied its tiny charm. "CXT-4799-622-584M," she read.

The projectionist nodded and punched the num- bers into a keypad. The screen stayed blank. "Nope. Not on our Bad Girl list," Huah said, and keyed in some more commands. This time the screen flick- ered and Cassie's picture and data came up on it. They definitely updated their files constantly -- it was her very recent graduation picture.

The women studied it for a moment. "Very high I.Q., but only average in school. A dreamer, butch beyond the usual age for such things," the projec- tionist noted. "Rather be one of the boys than be with one, but still classified heterosexual. Prefers horses to people."

"Kinky," Daji put in. It was ignored, as usual.

Cassie was forced to stand there silently as the details of her life and interests were read out, including many incidents and anecdotes she had long forgotten. It was obvious that these files were extremely elaborate and would have been impossi- ble to keep and keep straight without the strange powered devices that worked only here in the city and with the constant cooperation of local priest- esses, government officials, and spies that had to permeate the whole of Anchor Logh. It was here that their destinies were plotted, not in Heaven,

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that was clear -- but they were plotted on the basis of very complete information.

"We had her down for psychological counseling," the projectionist concluded, "but she's really good with animals. Wanted a vet's slot but doesn't have the mental self-discipline for the boring and rou- tine work required to get the degree- Currently we had her down as a good church prospect -- she'd be an excellent midwife, for example -- with the usual twist of giving her a choice between that and a menial job like stable hand."

"That's all I came in for -- to apply for the novitiate," Cassie blurted out. "I didn't mean to do anything wrong!"