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Authors: Piers Anthony

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BOOK: Five Portraits
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“Size is irrelevant to a Demon. There are only questions of feasibility, and of course Demon Points.”

“Why do you strive so hard for Points?”

“Because they give our dreary existences a kind of meaning. We are all-powerful; anything we want to do, we do. That becomes tedious. So we contest with each other for status, and Points are marks of status. Without that we would find existence crushingly dull.”

“That never occurred to me.”

“Mortals lack time to become jaded. They are too busy just trying to survive. By the time they become surfeit, they are dead. Demons are eternal. They miss the excitement of death, the mercy of oblivion. And of course there is the matter of the soul, another factor that enhances the brief lives of mortals. So they don't need to contest for status.”

“I think some do anyway,” Astrid said.

“They are foolish. They can't keep status; their early deaths take it from them. So what is the point?”

“Good question,” Astrid said. “If we don't do anything useful in our fleeting lives, there is no point.”

They came down to land again in Eris's garden. “Did you talk with Wenda?” Jumper asked.

“We did,” Astrid said. “She recommended rescuing children. We'd like to rescue some from the future, and bring them back here to live out their full lives in relative comfort. That is the project we have decided on.”

“The future,” Eris said thoughtfully. “That would be a challenge.”

“Yes. So we may need help. We'd like to talk to Dysnomia.”

“Oh, my,” Eris said. “She is something of a black sheep, pretty wild. I have not been in contact with her for some time.”

“Can you reach her?” Astrid asked.

Eris raised a hand and snapped her fingers. Another woman appeared. She was pretty, with good features, long hair, and a nice figure, but she did indeed look wild, following no established conventions of dress or manner. “What do you want, mother dear?” she demanded dismissively.

“These two would like to talk with you, perhaps to enlist your help,” Eris said.

“Obese chance! I don't care about any regular people.”

“Make on effort,” Fornax said.

Dysnomia caught the tone and looked at her. And froze. “Fornax!”

“I am not here to convert you to total energy,” Fornax said evenly. “But to enlist your aid, should you be inclined to give it.”

It was evident that this wild Demoness had some awe for Fornax, whose destructive power was surely respected even among Demons. “Make your case.”

“My mortal friend Astrid will make it.”

“Mortal friend!” Dysnomia exclaimed. “Since when did you take to slumming, SeeTee?”

SeeTee?

“The pronunciation of CT, or ContraTerrene matter, a more technical term for antimatter,” Fornax explained. “She thinks she is being contemptuous of both of us.”

Oh? Astrid removed her dark glasses and looked Dysnomia in the face. “I am a basilisk. I am not accustomed to contempt.”

“Why so you are,” Dysnomia agreed, evidently taken slightly aback. She was of course immune to the death stare, but she felt it. “You must have an interesting story.”

“I do,” Astrid agreed, restoring her glasses. “But that is not the point. If you are not going to take us seriously, there is no point in talking with you.”

Dysnomia laughed. “Now you have evoked my curiosity. Very well, I will listen.”

“We want to travel fifty years into the future, rescue some orphaned children there, and bring them back here. To do that we may need to break some laws of the universe. Such as paradox. Can you help us do that?”

“Paradox,” Dysnomia repeated thoughtfully. “That's a tricky one. I never thought to violate that one before.”

“So its a challenge,” Astrid said. “Are you up to it?”

“Of course I'm up to it!” The Demoness paused. “I think.”

“Then join us for a planning session,” Fornax said. “We may set law-breaking history.”

“We may indeed,” Dysnomia said zestfully.

“Don't crash the universe, dear,” Eris called as the three of them took off.

They returned to the crescent moon, biting off pieces of the crescent to chew on as they talked. “Exactly where do you have in mind collecting these children?” Dysnomia asked. “Time is one thing, but geography is another.”

“Why not in the troll's glade?” Astrid asked. “He won't be using it any more. It's quite private.”

“We can go there physically,” Fornax agreed. “Then advance fifty years in time, and collect any foundling children we see, and bring them back.”

“What will we do with them once we have them?” Astrid asked. “I mean, yes they are a project, but I have very little experience with children, and can't even be near them for long, because of my, um, perfume.”

“I have no experience,” Fornax said. “I think we'll have to enlist the help of your friends. They should be able to advise us.”

“I will ask them,” Astrid said. “Maybe we should allow a little time. I don't know exactly how they will react.” She hoped that was not a significant understatement. She herself had not thought of children until Wenda suggested it.

“Take the time you need,” Fornax agreed. “Meanwhile Dysnomia and I will work out our strategy for the rescue. When you are ready, just say my name.”

Thus agreed, Fornax dropped Astrid off at her camp. The others were there to welcome her back. Maybe it would be all right.

Astrid took a breath and opened her mouth to speak.

Chapter 4:
Children

“Oh, we're so glad you're back!” Kandy exclaimed. “We need you.”

“Uh, yes, I—”

“We have found a resurgence of the pun virus! Mitch found it when he was out exploring. We must go extirpate it immediately, before it spreads. Come on!”

And they were on their way, following Mitch. He was Tiara's man, and his hair was as long as hers. In fact he had woven it into a shirt that he wore. Obviously he had been out looking for signs of the virus, as Astrid had. This was, after all, their primary mission. Kandy didn't have a chance to ask them about the children. She hoped the Demon would be patient.

Kandy found herself walking beside Merge, who hadn't made it to the troll's cave. Merge was a pretty girl with multicolored waist-length hair, perfect features, and an outstanding body. She was actually the combination, the mergence, of five sisters who had been separate until their hair was allowed to merge. It hadn't stopped there. She carried her Urn, which contained, or rather served as the portal, for all the pun virus antidote they would ever need to eradicate the menace. All they needed to do was locate the remaining pockets of the virus and douse them before they could spread. And now they had exactly such a pocket.

And there it was. The sign said WELCOME TO PUN VALLEY, but there were no puns in evidence, only awful smelly gunk where they had been melted. The virus was here, all right.

Merge uncorked her urn and poured out elixir. The gunk immediately shrank into dust as the virus was abolished, but it was of course too late for the puns. They had suffered cruel extinction.

They looked into the valley. It was thickly wooded, with gunk littering the ground and coating the treetrunks. What a disaster area!

“This is too big to cover piecemeal,” Merge said. “I'll have to split up.” Whereupon she shimmered and split into five young women with different colored hair: Brown, Black, Red, Yellow, and light Blue. They were also nude, as there was only one dress and it had fallen off during the shimmer. Each had a small urn.

“Eyes front!” Tiara snapped as Mitch's eyes wandered.

“Ditto!” Kandy said as Ease's eyes threatened to glaze.

Astrid was relieved that she didn't have to speak to Art. He had learned to keep his eyes in check when not actually painting nudes.

“There's no time to fetch clothing,” Brown said. “We have to deal with the virus immediately.”

The five girls moved out, efficiently sprinkling elixir on all the sodden puns. So did the others. They were a fair-size group in all, and made good headway.

Astrid was now working beside Brown. “Your ability to separate may be a problem for a prospective male companion.”

“We know,” Brown agreed. “Yet at times, like right now, it's useful.”

She had a point. It seemed that Kandy's ability to become a board had spread to the others, giving them special shifting talents. She suspected that Demon Xanth had quietly enhanced their abilities, to enable them to better clean out the pun virus, because he didn't like having his land messed up. Her recent association with Fornax impressed on her that Demons could mess in with mortal events when they chose.

Which reminded her of the matter of the children. She needed to grab an opportunity the moment it was offered.

They forged on through Pun Valley, leaving its terrain clean but spare. Xanth without puns was little better than drear Mundania.

“I am ordering a delivery of seed puns,” Pewter said. “To restore the valley to its rightful status. The delivery should be soon.”

“Our job is done,” Kandy said, mopping her grimy face. “The valley is clean, but we're a mess. We'd better clean up. Is there a lake?”

“No lake,” Ease said. “But there's a way.”

“Why do I suspect this has something to do with bare girls?”

“How else will you get clean?”

He had her there. “So how do we wash?”

“In pun elixir.”

They all paused. That actually made sense, to be sure that no vestige of the virus remained on them or their clothing.

“I'm a board,” Kandy said, and became the board. It was an easier way to wash.

The five aspects of Merge lifted their little urns over their tousled heads and started pouring. The others stripped and ducked down to rinse off under those streams of liquid. They also soaked and wrung out their clothes and hung them up on bushes to dry. Then the five aspects did the same, pouring for each other, and merged. Merge stood there, gloriously bare, her hair scintillating in all the colors of her aspects.

Astrid noticed as they all dried in the sun how Ease, Mitch, and Art were looking, while Kandy's board quivered resentfully, Metria smirked, Tiara frowned, and Astrid herself felt like doing some deadly staring. That girl needed to find a man soon so she wouldn't be distracting other girls' men. Had she had panties on, all of the men would have freaked out. As it was, they were not far from it.

There was a huge brown shadow. It squawked and a package dropped before them, almost breaking apart. Then the roc bird few rapidly on and away. It was the OOPS delivery. A careless package.

They unpacked it, finding half a myriad of shrink-wrapped puns, which expanded to full size the moment the wrap was off. There were Snow Shoes made of snow; a Yell-O Jacket that would sting anyone who put it on; a bright shining Brilli Ant; a Pine Needle that would sew curses into clothing to cause sadness in anyone who wore it; Sun Dial and Pun Dial Soap they could have used when showering; several Belts: Asteroid, Bible, Rust, Sun; a collection of useful Letters such as D-Tail, D-Fur, Fur-E, Pant-Es, Pant-Ts, Eye-V, Ear-E, Brain-E, Cheek-E, Hair-E, Vein-E, Sas-C, Sis-C; and even a Tea V drink that projected moving pictures.

Astrid had to avert her gaze before she because nauseous. She was almost tempted to jam the puns back into the box and hammer it closed. Xanth without puns was empty, but Xanth with puns could be silly. But she clamped down her gorge and got to work with the others, flinging puns right, left, and away, restoring Pun Valley to its natural state.

At last the box was empty, and the valley was recovering. Art set up his easel and started painting the scene. That was his way to relax, and his paintings were always marvelously realistic and lovely to behold.

“You know, I want to start on those Five Portraits,” he said as he worked. “But somehow I can't. The muse won't come. I don't know what's wrong.”

“You have Painter's Block?” Kandy asked.

“No, I can paint anything else. Just not one of you. Yet.”

“But you're an artist,” Merge said. “All you have to do is set up and paint.”

“No. It has to be right. The five of you lovely women are somehow incomplete, and I can't paint you.”

“Artistic registration,” Metria muttered.

He glanced at her. “Artistic what?”

“Enrollment, entrance, ingress, adjustment, disposition—”

“Temperament?”

“Whatever,” she agreed crossly.

Art nodded. “Maybe so. It's ironic, because I really want to paint you, you beautiful creatures, and you are all ready to be painted. But something holds me back.”

“We'll surely figure it out in due course,” Tiara said.

“I hope so.” He resumed his nature scene.

Astrid sat on a convenient stool, resting, until she saw others looking at her. She glanced down—and realized it was a massive mound of animal dung. She had been gotten by a freshly spread stinking pun.

She quickly changed the subject. “I have something to say that I hope won't disturb you.”

Mitch smiled. “Your direct glance might disturb us, or your deadly perfume, but not your words.”

“I talked with the Demoness Fornax.”

“The lady dog who tried to mess us up in her galaxy?” Mitch asked.

“Oh, yes,” Kandy said, returning to woman form. “How did it go?”

“We have an idea.”

Merge was perplexed. “Isn't Fornax mischief?”

“She associates with antimatter,” Kandy explained. “She can't touch anything here without it exploding into energy. That's why she needs an intermediary. Apart from that, she's not a bad person. I am negotiating for her with Demon Xanth to arrange the next Demon Wager.”

“I don't trust this,” Ease said. “She's a seductive wench.”

“Aren't we all,” Kandy said fondly. “What's your idea, Astrid?”

“Fornax and I have agreed to be friends. But neither of us knows much about how to do it. So we talked with Wenda Woodwife—you know, the ‘I wood knot dew that to yew' woman—and she says we should try helping children.”

“Wenda does love children,” Pewter said.

“So our idea is to rescue some children from the future and place them in good adoptive families. But we'll have to take care of them in the interim. Neither Fornax nor I know anything about handling children, so we'll need your help.”

“I don't know a thing about children,” Merge said. “But it might be good experience for when I find a man and, well, whatever.” She blushed.

“That's a good point,” Tiara said. “I feel the same, though I have found my man.” She glanced lovingly at Mitch.

“I have son,” Metria said. “He's a nuisance.”

“Well, he's half demon,” Kandy reminded her.

“True. Ordinary children would not be half the perturbation.”

“Half the what?”

“Planetary alignment, confusion, devilment, rascality, mischief—”

“Trouble?”

“Whatever,” the demoness agreed crossly.

Kandy glanced at the men. “You are oddly silent. Don't you want children?”

“We hadn't thought of it,” Mitch said. “But I suppose we could help caretake a few for a while.”

“So let's do it,” Kandy said, quite ready to support Astrid and her connection with Fonax.

Thus simply it was decided. “I will see about rescuing them,” Astrid said gratefully. She had feared that it would be more complicated.

Then she contacted the Demoness. “Fornax,” she murmured.

“Good enough,” Fornax said.

But something was strange. The others were not moving. They seemed to be frozen in place. “Are they all right?” Astrid asked, concerned.

“They are fine,” Fornax reassured her. “I merely froze local time so that we can take as much time as we need to rescue the children, and it will seem like no time to them.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“We have had to compromise,” Fornax said as they flew to the troll's glade. “Dysnomia concluded that paradox is after all beyond her rule-breaking abilities.”

“Oh? Why?”

“If she broke the laws of Time and went back to her origination and persuaded Eris not to generate her, she would no longer exist. Then she would be unable to accomplish anything, such as her own elimination. That's paradox: a self-contradictory argument, like ‘This statement is false.' It is essentially nonsense. So travel back in time cancels itself out before it accomplishes anything. Visiting the future has similar peril, because there is the need to return to the present, which is travel to the past, at least from the future. Knowledge of that future would itself change it. Paradox again. She says it makes her head spin, and she does not care to risk it.”

“So we can't rescue the children?” Astrid asked, disappointed.

“We'll fetch them. Just without time travel.”

“But if they're from the future—”

“This requires some fundamental theory. There is not just a single Xanth. There are an infinite number of Xanths, in parallel universes. Each differs from its neighbors only slightly. Some are exactly similar to ours, except that they are a trace behind or ahead of ours. Only by a second, but if we cross enough parallels, those seconds add up, and we can reach a Xanth fifty years ahead, about to be destroyed. That is where the children will be.”

“Just like our Xanth, only fifty years farther along?”

“Yes. So it emulates time travel without invoking paradox. That's an advantage.”

“But can we just cross to other Xanths?” Astrid asked, confused.

“We're not supposed to. But sometimes it happens. There was a case when Surprise Golem crossed to another parallel to recover her misplaced baby. Demons can cross, because we are spread across all the parallels; it is merely a matter of which one we focus on. That is what makes us infinitely more potent than mortals. All the parallel Xanths are part of Demon Xanth. But as a general rule we don't do it, because it can complicate things. Duplicated people showing up in a single frame, that sort of thing. It can be hard to keep track. But in this case, Dysnomia will do it. That is the rule she is prepared to break.”

“But what is her interest, if she doesn't care about the children?”

“The challenge. She wants to see if it is feasible, or whether it is another kind of paradox. Demons love challenges.”

“Such as the challenge of friendship?”

“Indeed.”

Something elusive was bothering Astrid, and after a generous moment she pounced and nabbed it. “But if Demons cross over all the Xanths, needing merely to focus on one, what rule is Dysnomia breaking?”

“We are taking you along. That will double you up with the Astrids of the parallels we cross, perhaps making mischief if you encounter one or more alternate selves. That's the violation.”

“Maybe I should stay in this one, then, and let you fetch the children.”

“No, you will need to touch the children to bring them with us, because you are mortal, with a soul, like them. We soulless immortals can't do that. We have worked it out to bring you, this one time, but that's the limit. The laws of the universe start getting ugly when tweaked, and once is all we can get away with. We won't be able to stay long, either. Demons are close to omnipotent, but this impinges on the impossible. We can't be sure it will succeed.”

BOOK: Five Portraits
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