01. Spirits of Flux and Anchor (17 page)

 

Rory Montagne, he thought as he rode. A minor real wizard, able to make changes in individual human and animal bodies but that was all. He certainly wouldn't have the power to create a pocket on his own. The one he'd used for years down near Anchor Dowt had been an old one created by some wizard traveling the void long ago, or so the story went. He remembered when Montagne 'was still leading a double life out of Haratus, a Fluxland near there, acting as a scenic designer for the local wizard while kidnapping a number of local women,

 

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one by one, and hauling them off to this pocket of his for who knew what purpose? Finally the bas- tard had picked on a woman who happened to be a drill instructor at the local military school and he'd damn near had his balls kicked off and was lucky to escape with his life.

 

What was he doing here?

 

The tiny, thin energy trail left by Cass was rag- ged but not hard for him to follow, since it had his personal frequency. They did not have a long ride before he suddenly raised his hand and brought the troop to a halt.

 

"What's the matter?" the colonel asked him, hand going to his pistol.

 

"See that slightly lighter area over there? That's got to be it. The trail goes right to it. I'd like to take a few troopers and scout it first. Best to know what we're getting into."

 

The colonel nodded and turned. "Fiver! Mihies! Godort! Fall in over here and dismount'"

 

The three soldiers, two men and a woman, looked tough and smart enough. Matson loaded his shot- gun and dismounted with them. "Stay ready," he warned the officer. "Montague's range is pretty limited -- he has to be looking at you to do anyr thing -- but he's too much for me to handle." With that he and the soldiers started cautiously forward.

 

"Sir!" one of the troopers hissed when they were almost to the pocket's border.

 

"Huh? What's the matter?"

 

"Over there to the left. One, maybe two shapes. Guards, perhaps."

 

He looked in the indicated direction and was impressed by the senses of the trooper. These were good soldiers. The figures were barely blobs at this distance, but they fanned out and moved slowly to close the net. At the point where they could finally make out the figures, though, Matson stopped, held up his hand again, and stood up, then pointed his

 

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shotgun at the pair. He knew one of them, but the other was a stranger, and he didn't know what they might have done to the one he did know by this time.

 

"All right -- both of you! Stand with hands raised, facing me!" he commanded sharply.

 

They both jumped at the voice, then did as instructed. Cass suddenly recognized the lean fig- ure in black. "Matson! Thank heaven!"

 

"Or somebody. You understand I don't know who's been messing with your mind, so I have to be cautious. There's three more guns on you two, so come forward and don't make any sudden moves."

 

They did as instructed, and soon were facing him across less than two meters. Matson reclipped his shotgun and walked up to them, staring at the larger of the two. "I'll be damned! I thought you were a man!"

 

"I used to be," Dar responded glumly.

 

Matson stared at him. "Don't I know you?"

 

Quickly Cass stepped in, telling the story as com- pletely as she could, while trying to spare Dar some of the most painful memories. Matson just nodded and waited for her to run out of words-

 

Finally he said, "All right. So you say he's changed about twenty of the girls into his play- things, and he's got ten of the others. That's pretty fair, considering that the new ones won't know how to fight. I don't like this goat-headed fellow, though. Handling him will be rough."

 

"Oh, it's been hours," she assured him. "He was going quickly, or so he said. I'm sure he's gone now."

 

"We'll have to take the chance," the stringer decided. "All right -- you two stay here for now. We're still going to keep you covered, so don't move until we tell you. Okay?"

 

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"We won't," Cass assured them. "I just wish you'd brought a drink of water with you."

 

"All in good time," he assured her, and was off-

 

They pretty much were able to confirm the pocket's layout and general dimensions that Cass gave them from cautious observation, and a trooper was sent back to bring up the rest. Matson re- turned to the pair and lit a cigar. "Okay. You sure that cave's got no outlet?"

 

"I'm sure," Dar told him. "It doesn't even go back very deep, but it's kind of squared off, ar- ranged like a one-bedroom cubicle."

 

He nodded, and the rest of the troops came up. Matson and the troopers quickly sketched in the layout and the stringer and the colonel mapped out a plan of attack. They had four submachine guns with them, and those were placed at the most likely points of breakout. Matson eyed the guns greedily, thinking of what he could have done to the cult if he'd had even one with enough ammunition. Twenty-five of the other troopers were stationed in between, so there was almost a contin- uous zone of fire. The others would ride right in, guns blazing, and secure positions inside as quickly as possible, with the hope of driving those inside out to the waiting firepower. If they could not within ten minutes, then the outer circle would move in with two of the machine guns taking the heights above the slabs,

 

Both Dar and Cass, after getting some water and a food bar each from the troopers, volunteered to go in with the party. Both Matson and the colonel were dubious. "We can't totally trust you yet, but I would like somebody there who knows the layout, just in case," the stringer said. "How about they come in with us in the middle of the party, un- dressed and unarmed as they are?"

 

The colonel nodded- "If they're crazy enough to do it, why not? Take the two gunners' horses there."

 

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Both Cass and Dar mounted expertly and brought their horses into the formation. Dar gave a dry chuckle.

 

"What's so funny?" Cass wanted to know.

 

"I just realized how much easier and more com- fortable it is to ride a saddle naked if you're a girl, that's all."

 

"Maybe you'll get to like it," she returned, feel- ing better than she had since entering the Temple, despite the imminent battle. "Hell, with those mus^ cles you got bigger tits than I do by far." And, with that, they were off.

 

10

 

PERSELLUS

 

The attack was simple, direct, and quite effective because it was a total surprise. Half the riders came in from one side of the pool, the other half, almost perfectly synchronized, rode in from the other way. The inhabitants of the pocket, as hoped, were first totally frozen in confusion at the noise of the attack, then pulled in several directions, not certain what to do or who to fight first.

 

Several of the savages, undone by this, simply stood there uncomprehending and allowed them- selves to be shot down. One, up in a tree, took the first target of opportunity and pounced down on a trooper, dismounting him. Seeing it, Dar leaped from his horse as the savage raised a bone club to deliver the fatal blow and knocked the wild animal- like woman away. Another trooper then shot her down.

 

It was over almost before it started, in a care- fully planned hail of bullets. Part of the reason was that the newly transformed captives did noth- ing to fight back the attack. Some died simply because it was not immediately obvious that they were no threat, but the bulk of them simply hud- dled back in a large mass against the rocks and cowered in terror.

 

As soon as Cass hit the small grove of trees she

 

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bounded off her horse and looked for signs of Roar- ing Mountain and his savage creatures, but aside from the pitiful ones huddling in the rocks there were none. The riders made two passes before they seemed to realize this as well, and they met in the center of the amphitheater and stopped, several dismounting and taking up guard positions.

 

A rider left to gather in the encircling troops, and soon the machine gunners had set up a defen- sive post on the rocky flat above the slabs from which they could hit almost anything in the pocket.

 

Matson, still atop his horse, reclipped his shot- gun and looked around. "Where the hell is Mon- tagne?"

 

The colonel frowned. "It was too quick for him to duck out through some escape hatch. He's got to be in the cave." The mounted troops split up into two detachments and rode to the paths on either side of the waterfall. The captain, who was the other wizard in the troop, now satisfied that his people were in control, took the right path, while the colonel, with Matson, covered the left.

 

"Rory Montagne!" the stringer shouted, his deep •voice struggling to be heard over the waterfall. "It's all over. Come on out now. In ten seconds we're going to start pouring lead into that cave of yours, and if a shot doesn't get you one of the ricochets will. Live or die, it makes no difference to us. Your choice."

 

Suddenly great fire-breathing dragon lizards, each ten meters tall, roared out of the cave and startled the horses. As this diversion was taking place, and drawing shots, a dark figure leaped through-the waterfall and into the pool and began swimming straight for the other side. The great dragons were hard for the troopers to ignore, but the colonel wheeled around on his horse and made for the far end of the pool, Matson following.

 

Roaring Mountain, looking quite soaked, reached

 

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the edge of the pool, pulled himself up quickly, then stopped, seeing the two figures in front of him. He shrugged and smiled at them. Wearing nothing but his medallion, he looked more foolish than dangerous. The dragons vanished.

 

"You didn't answer Mr. Matson," the colonel remarked calmly. "Or were those hissing illusions your answer? Would you like to take me on now?"

 

The priest of Hell's smile faded and he studied the colonel intently. "Answer me this first, sir, if you will," he said smoothly. "If I were to not take you on, what will happen to me?"

 

"You will be rendered unconscious, then taken to Persellus to stand trial," the colonel told him. "Beyond it being a fair trial by magicians of your rank I can promise nothing further." It was clear by his tone, though, that he really hoped that the evil one would choose to fight him here and now.

 

The colonel's confident manner rattled Montagne. He was not, after all, a very powerful wizard, and quite limited in real, rather than illusory, magic. Nor, for all his insanity, was he stupid. One did not take on a wizard who knew your own powers and limitations while you knew none of his. "To Persellus, you say? I understand it is a delightlul place, Colonel- I shall be delighted to accompany you."

 

"First things first," Matson put in. "Montagne, we go back a ways as you might remember, and I know you're not the big man in all this. Now who the hell is the joker hiding behind the goat's mask?"

 

"Jok -- I don't know what you mean, dear boy. The authorities made it a bit hot, shall we say, back home when my dear little pocket was stumbled upon by a military patrol while I was away. I have scouted these obscure pockets for years, so I moved. That's all."

 

Matson reached down on his saddle and undipped his bullwhip. The dark man saw it, frowned,

 

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then looked over at the colonel. "My dear sir, I have surrendered to you! I am under your protec- tion and the merciful laws of Persellus."

 

"We're not in Persellus now," Matson said coldly. "You killed a very good friend of mine. Worse, you stole stringer property. In the void a stringer is the law in matters concerning his train. You can an- swer to me, and answer straight, or take on the colonel. Your choice, I don't care which." The bull- whip was unfurled to its full length.

 

"Colonel!" Montagne implored, but the colonel filled his pipe, started humming an old tune, and looked around at the scenery.

 

Rory Montagne sighed. "Oh, very well. Yes, I was contacted back home one day by the one you refer to, but aside from the fact that he is one of the Seven I have no more idea than you as to who or what he is. I have seen and heard him only as you describe, in deep disguise. He made this pocket, and he sent some of his minions to bring me here with all that I had. I was to build up weapons and personnel until we were strong enough to attack and secure one of the seven gates to Hell which is 'not that far from here, that time to be in the rather distant future, I believe."

 

Matson looked over at the colonel. "That true? One of those things is around here?"

 

"So I've heard, but I've heard that since I was a kid and I never knew anybody who really knew if it was, or where it was. I been thirty years in and out of the void in these parts and I never ran into it, but I could have been right next to it a hundred times and never known it. You know how the void is."

 

The stringer nodded. "Well, it's no concern of mine if it's true or not, but I do want the bastard behind all this- Montagne, you seem mighty casual about going to Persellus. Any special reason?"

 

142 Jack L. Chalker

 

The madman shrugged. "Why not? As I said, it's supposed to be a delightful place."

 

"And the place where your mystery man is?"

 

The colonel seemed shocked by Matson's sug- gestion. "In Persellns'? One of the Nine? Without the Goddess knowing? Impossible!"

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