01. When the Changewinds Blow (35 page)

BOOK: 01. When the Changewinds Blow
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Boday and Sam went into the wagon and closed the flaps and used some of the water to sponge each other off before they changed. It was going to be a long trip. By the time they'd finished, Charley had found the narga team and was in the process of rigging it. Even so, almost nobody seemed quite ready an hour later to get going except the crew.

They lined up in formation, a rider checking each horse, pack horse, and wagon to see that all was there and secure, and then they waited for Master Jahoort. Across and beyond the customs station was the mist in the first light of dawn, and beyond . . . Well, it was hard to tell without binoculars but it sure as hell looked like a pretty bleak sandy desert, and a dry one at that. It sure wasn't any green jungle.

Jahoort came by them on his huge tan horse-Charley suspected he'd bought if because it matched his outfit-as he circled the train. And then-they waited. Now each and every rider in the group was checked by the black-clad soldiers, and identity papers were inspected.

Charley, knowing that Boday could understand no English, took advantage of the delay, coming up in back of Sam. "You did it last night, didn't you? That's why all the rush and Boday out in the sleeping bag."

Sam nodded but didn't look back at her. "Yeah, I did. I used the jewel. He don't remember nothin'. I figured, hell, we don't know what's out there but why should you have all the fun?"

"And? And?" Charley prompted.

"It was-interesting. Not bad. Not what I thought it would be, either. So much of it was the same, 'though I liked that beard. That was neat. He was rougher, though. Not gentle where he should be. I'm sore in places. Messier, too, but it felt good goin' in. That was something new. And it was quicker. A lot quicker. I wanted more than he had. I just don't know. I'm glad I did it, glad I've done it, but it's an itch that got scratched. I know this much: women's bodies are a whole hell of a lot prettier to look at than men's. I dunno. I wouldn't
not
do it again, but only if it's for real. I won't force it ever again. You?"

"Well, maybe all that with Boday just jaded you. I know she knows things that have
never
been in books. Maybe he wasn't much good. A lot of men aren't, you know. Sometimes I wonder how people have kids. I had-fun. It was kind of a group thing, which -was neat, and it was on the grass, which was fun. I sure as hell wouldn't mind doing it regular on this trip. Anybody except Mister Moustache, that is. There's just something about him that just gives me the creeps."

"Yeah, well, it was so long ago. Your memory's better than mine. All I remember is that big guy in skins with the speech impediment. I had my back to 'em, anyway."

Boday asked about the conversation, and Sam told her about the fellow with the fancy waxed moustache and Charley's suspicions.

She frowned. "Boday, too, has seen him somewhere. She had been trying for three days." She snapped her fingers. "Now, suddenly, it comes to her! She has seen him several times with Kligos!"

"Kligos! Then he is a scoundrel! He works for Kligos?"

"No, no. It was as if they were friends. Equals. Boday does not know more, but perhaps our little Butterfly is correct. We should keep an eye on him, particularly if he continues on with us. Ah! Here come the inspectors."

Boday handed them the passport, which covered both her and Sam, and which contained the clearance stamps, as well as the small document that certified that one Shari was contracted to them for life as beauteous property. They looked at them, gave a few looks like "We're glad to get rid of the likes of you," then went on. Charley pointed to the little fold-over card that was her only ID. "Don't lose that," she cautioned. "That is the only identity I have here. Lose that and I'm fair game."

It took a few more minutes for them to clear everybody, and Sam stared out ahead at the mist beyond. She was nervous and confused and didn't know quite what to think about herself. Instead, everything came around in circles to Charley's comment on her little card. This wagon was
her
card. Not just all she had, but everybody who loved her and cared about her. Boa of them. Charley was her true friend and confidante, her trusted companion who was both big and little sister. That had never changed. But Boday-it was crazy, but she was fond of the tall woman's outrageousness and often awed by the talent mere. Boday's devotion, whether chemically induced or not, was real down to the core of her heart and soul, even if it was kind'a like making a deal with the devil sometimes. You had to be real careful around Boday or she could smother you. That had finally been worked out now. She suddenly looked at the slim body, long fingers, strong but attractive face, and saw Boday in a new way. Okay, so it wasn't "normal," wasn't accepted, but it was real. More real than what Charley had-or maybe needed-and more real than what Crindil had, too. Maybe more than most people.

She'd been around men, lived for a time with men and kept company with them as one of mem, and now she'd had one, and, on the whole, she liked the company of women better. So be it. The hell with fantasies. Like Charley said, you take what you got and you make the most of it.

The border soldiers rode back past and Master Jahoort gave a cry of
"Hooooo!"
and they started to move.

"Oh boy," Charley muttered nervously to herself, "here we go."

By the time they passed the border station and descended into the mist Jahoort was already well ahead. They were the first of the high, covered wagons but were in about me middle of the train. The desert landscape still held, and all looked normal as the sun rose, although behind them the clouds were gathering and it looked like a possible storm at the exit point.

They were above the mist, but it came up to about the center of the wagon wheels and up to about the middle of the nargas, making a pretty weird sight. Jahoort, leading the way on his big horse and unmistakable with his top hat and buckskins, seemed to know just exactly where he was going, and the crew, those not driving the cargo wagons but on horseback, moved up and back along the train, keeping it tight but not congested. All Sam could think of was the old song
Ghost Riders in the Sky.
That's sure what it looked and felt like as they went back and forth, their animals' legs lost in cloud.

It took a couple of hours to cross the region, and then the riders began to direct traffic much like mounted traffic police, putting many of the wagons side by side and stopping them, with all the passengers on horseback with pack animals behind. They were now no more than a hundred yards from that fearsome-looking desert, and they could even feel some of the dry heat.

Jahoort rode out so that he was about in the middle of the parked train, and just ten feet or so in front of them, and he just sat there, looking like some Old West painting, staring at the desert for enough time for Boday to sketch him. She was really good, too.

And then, in front of them, the desertscape started to change, and not subtly like the visions Sam and Charley had seen while "falling" down that storm-created tunnel to Akahlar. No, it was more like slides, like one slide fading out as another faded in, only in full three-dimensions and brilliant, life-like color. Slowly, at first, then faster, until they were going by at a good clip and it was hard to categorize them as more than types before they were gone. Several different colored deserts with wildly different landforms, certainly; a number of jungles, one of which had purple and pink trees and no green in sight; rolling hills manicured like a golf course that looked complete with water hazards and sand traps-everything but a hole, flag, and putting green; a shore looking out on a vast ocean-like body of blue-green water, tall mountains, short mountains, green mountains, white mountains. ... It just went on and on.

Still, while there were infinite variations in color and placement and in some of the vegetation, the fact was that there were only a few basic landscapes. There were mountains, valleys, hills, deserts, plants, jungles, and seashores both sandy and rocky. The variety of them, however, startled and impressed even Boday, who'd seen it before. In most, it was overcast; in some, it was raining-or even snowing, although they knew this was the equatorial region of the planet.

"Are
we
moving or is
that?"
Sam asked.

"Neither, darling," Boday responded. "All of it is in the same place at the same time."

"Well-which one's Akahlar?"

"Darling-they are
all
Akahlar!"

"She's right about one thing," Charley said, coming back forward. "I just got dizzy looking at that and checked out the back. It still looks just the same."

Sam translated and Boday nodded.
"Of course,
because it
is
the same. All sectors intersect with the hub, but none with each other. That is why they can all be there but all are Akahlar. What you are seeing, though, is something that only a master navigator like Jahoort can do. He is flipping through all of the wedges intersecting this point for the one he wants. This Bi'ihqua, which is not an Akhbreed name. You can expect to see a native race, my darlings. It will be the first time, yes?"

"Second," Sam responded. "We met one before that we sure as hell don't want to meet again."

"Yeah," Charley agreed. "Tell her if we're ever near Ba'ahdon to give it a wide miss."

The end came very suddenly, when a view simply locked in before them. It was a very pretty view, but not one of the most friendly looking.

A valley and well-traveled dirt road opened before them, but on all sides were high mountains dotted maybe two-thirds of the way with lush greenery but with barren peaks, some with large patches of snow showing just how high they were. Thick gray clouds were overhead, cutting off the tops of some of the mountains from view, but it wasn't the mountains that was most impressive. Even on their greenest sides, there were dark, black, ugly scars, some quite wide and imposing, a few coming down into the valley and looking like blobs of oozing black rock suddenly frozen in mid-ooze. At various points around the valley and even near the trail the ground seemed to be on fire. At least, there was constant smoke and steam rising there.

"Looks like a cross between Yellowstone and Hawaii. I hope those bubbling places smell better here than there."

Now Jahoort motioned with his hand and gave his cry, and the mounted crew reformed the train and had it start to move out after Master Jahoort. There was no question as to where to aim for; there was only that road.

As they got to the edge of the land and came up out of the mist they discovered that Charley's wish did not come true. While the air was mostly decent and humid, now and again they would get a whiff of sulphur and even the telltale rotten egg smell of hydrogen sulfide. Even the nargas snorted their disgust.

They pulled onto the road that seemed to come right out of the mist, and Charley looked back. The mist was there, and she could see around the next wagon and beyond, but there was a darkness of sorts at the other end of the mist. All view of the hub seemed to have gone. In a few minutes all sight of the mist was gone, and they were in the volcanic landscape.

The temperature was down but it still wasn't all that chilly; Sam guessed it was maybe high sixties or low seventies, but after just leaving ten or more degrees warmer you really knew it.

Charley was trying to figure out how the hell the world was put together. "Like a crazy kind of flower, maybe," she suggested. "You know-the hub is the middle of the flower, and then there are the petals all around, like on the maps. Only the maps just show a view from the top, seeing the top petal. Suppose there were a hundred or a thousand petals all stuck to the middle of the flower at one point-that mist-but leaning away from each other, drooping down and giving a little space between? And each petal was one of those places. I dunno how the hell that's possible, but it's gotta be something like that."

Sam suggested the analogy to Boday, who liked it. "Yes, Boday has heard that before. It is very much like that, in fact. Is it not wonderful to have such variety? And there are forty-eight flowers, each with twelve series of petals. Darlings, only in Akahlar can every place and everything be possible!"

Conversation stopped as they heard what sounded like a very large group of barbershop quartet singers sounding off one note at a time at random-and very loudly.

They were passing a pretty but ugly-smelling area very near the road that seemed to be boiling colored mud. Sam looked at it, fascinated, but she wasn't sure what variety she wanted. The singing notes were coming from it; as each bubble burst, it gave off a noxious-smelling gas and a note that sounded just like a tenor or a baritone in one of those groups singing "ah Ah AH AHH!" only not in any ascending or descending order. It was kind of funny and a little neat, but she preferred her mud unboiled and she wasn't too keen on the ground singing to her.

She also wondered if there were any alto and contralto and soprano mud boils about. As it turned out, there were, and it sounded just awful as the sounds of one blended in with the sounds of others.

Charley just couldn't resist, even though she realized how precarious her position was. "The hills are alive with the sound of music," she said, giggling.

Sam turned and gave her a look and for a moment was tempted to turn her into just Shari.

They stopped just a half mile or so into the valley, but were not given much of a break or told to form a camp. Instead, Jahoort seemed to be waiting for somebody, and that somebody showed up fairly promptly. He was a rather dashing figure dressed all in khaki, with a small, upturned matching hat with brim, atop a chestnut brown horse. He had a large and comfortable-looking saddle and two large saddlebags mounted just in back of it, as well as what might have been a bedroll rolled up between the two bags. It was hard to tell detail at this distance, but he appeared to be ruddy brown from the sun and younger than Jahoort, although perhaps as experienced. It wasn't just the newcomer that caused attention, however, but his two companions.

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