Empires of Flux & Anchor

“My mission is to seek out those who would open the Gates and destroy them,” the Rider responded. “I would assume the safety of Anchor was your responsibility.”

“No, only its stability, a condition I am now commanded to jeopardize.”

“You allowed one of the Seven to pass into Anchor. Had you not, this might not be necessary,” the Rider pointed out.

“The one you mention knows the pass codes as you do. I was without power to stop him. Where and from whom he learned this I do not know, but he is one of great power.”

“He is in the employ of Hell. I am charged to stop him.”

“Then you must allow the host to pass to Anchor.”

“Her mind is not like other human minds,” the Rider pointed out. “The same one I now seek has put her somewhat beyond my reach.”

“Then I will render the matrix inoperable. My jurisdiction is entirely within this chamber and Anchor, so it will be inoperable only so long as she is within my sphere of influence. Should she pass out of it, the matrix will be restored as permanently as before.”

“That will help, but it will not undo the damage to her mind.”

“You have been with her since she was made operational. I am willing to aid you in common goals, remote, but I will not do your job for you, nor can I.”

“I will do what I can,” the Soul Rider promised, “but you have given me very little time.”

“If it is not sufficient, you are defective and should be replaced. There. It is undone. I leave you now to your own task.”

“Wait!” the Soul Rider cried out. “Remain a moment! Tell me what you are, and what I am, and who commands the both of us!”

“We are not supposed to know,” the Guardian replied, and faded out.

The Soul Rider, feeling the press of time, went to work. It couldn’t help but note and appreciate the Guardian’s methods. The binding spell was still there, but it was diverted from her by a thin addition that linked it, somehow, to that great machine over to one side. The machine took in the power from the vortex and changed and split it, stabilizing the four Anchors and, in fact, the Hellgate itself. So long as Spirit remained in areas under the control of that machine, the spell would be drawn off, diverted to it and rendered harmless. It was a tenuous thread, however. Once back in Flux, the small link would be broken, and it would take the Guardian again to restore it. Somehow it doubted that the creature who operated the machine would be so inclined.

Because the Soul Rider had lived inside Spirit since birth, it had its own duplicate set of memories and impressions. These could be read back in, but selectively, and subtly altered. It did not wish to withdraw the power from Suzl, as Suzl was clearly better temperamentally suited to it and would continue to have a direct link with the language of the Soul Rider itself. Spirit, then, must remain with Suzl, and Suzl needed to retain her own personal anchor. That meant fabricating a set of false memories and impressions that would take Spirit logically to the emotional, passionate love and commitment to Suzl and away from her heterosexual base. It was rather easy to do to someone you had already made fall in love with the same person anyway and made keep that love when that person had become a grossly distorted creature.

It was also necessary, and only fair, to convey the ground rules as much as possible to both of them. That was far more difficult. It longed for the Guardian’s powers of communication, but had to content itself with what it had. The Guardian, after all, had never experienced the joys and pains of living human lives as had the Soul Rider. On balance, it decided that the Guardian was more deprived.

It was done now, as much as it could be done, and the Soul Rider was content. Minor adjustments could be made, but only slightly out of Flux. It would have to do.

It allowed Suzl to awaken first, but time was running on.

13 SHATTERED HOME

Suzl sat in the tunnel and tried to sort it all out. Certainly her scheme had worked, but the information she seemed to have from somewhere was a little unnerving. She could see the tiny diversionary spell trailing off from Spirit to the machine, and that confirmed the truth of what she knew.

When Spirit woke up, she would be free of the spell—so long as she went to Anchor Logh and remained there. Only Suzl would retain the machine language ability; Spirit would be back among the humans once again, and that worried Suzl no end. How would Spirit feel? Towards her and everything else? Quickly Suzl changed back to her human form.

Spirit moaned, rolled over, and opened her eyes. For a moment she seemed unable to focus or even grasp where she was, and she looked puzzled. Then she sat up, looked over at Suzl, and shook her head slowly. “What a strange, strange dream,” she rasped, and the shock of hearing her speak, of hearing her voice for the first time, was great, even though Suzl had expected it. “My throat hurts.”

“If you feel up to it, we can go into Anchor and get you some water and some clothes,” Suzl responded hesitantly.

She shook her head slightly from side to side. “No, darling, just let me sort it all out first.”

Suzl felt an electric shock. Darling! She reached out for a small spell, got it, and materialized a canteen of water, which she handed to Spirit, who took it and swallowed cautiously.

Slowly, everything came out. Spirit seemed to remember her past pretty well, even after Coydt put the spell on her, but after she saw her family in Anchor Logh that last time, things seemed to get fuzzy and less distinct. She remembered feeling lost, alone, confused—adrift, somehow, until Suzl had gone away with her. Every moment after that seemed to focus on Suzl—and the baby. She had no real sense of time or events beyond her personal, basic experiences, nor did she quite understand why she was back—and how.

Somehow, in her memories of earlier times in Anchor, she seemed to believe that she always found women attractive, but had fought and suppressed the tendency, perhaps overcompensating for fear of what family and friends might think. “I don’t care what anybody thinks anymore, though. I love you, and I’d tell all of World.”

Together they went back into Anchor, where they caused as much commotion and excitement as Suzl had, perhaps more. The obvious romantic bond between the tall, lovely young woman and the short, chubby Suzl put many people off now that both were “normal,” although they hadn’t even thought about it in Flux with all the spells. Several things emerged, though, that were certainly different from the Spirit known of old. She deferred almost entirely to Suzl, who was clearly the dominant personality in the relationship, and she seemed rather shy and very passive. She did, however, seem to clearly enjoy being part of human culture once again, to be able to talk and be understood, and, most of all, to understand and use common objects. She seemed deathly afraid that this period of renewed normalcy would abruptly end.

She wanted to see her baby, and they brought the child through to her in the temple. With the child, however, came Sister Kasdi, who wasn’t quite sure how to react to all this. On the one hand, she wanted desperately to talk, for the first time in their lives, as mother and daughter. On the other, the relationship between Spirit and Suzl made her feel almost ill. When Spirit and Kasdi finally faced each other, there seemed nothing really to say. Kasdi just stood there for a while, staring at her.

Matson entered, looked at Spirit, and grinned. “Welcome back to the almost-living,” he said good-naturedly. “I’m your dad.”

That took a lot of explaining as well, with Suzl acting as intermediary as best she could. No family reunion on World had ever had such confusion and hostility mixed together. Matson, sensing this the most, got down to business. “Suzl has explained to you what’s going on?”

Spirit nodded. “I think so. The same evil that got me now has all of Anchor Logh.”

He nodded. “I know we’re asking a lot, but we need you. The odds are it’ll be very dangerous, and the odds are against us ever really doing what needs to be done, but we have to try. No matter what you think of me or your mother, it’s got to be tried.”

Spirit looked down at little Jeffron, sound asleep in her lap. “I understand. I have to be honest, too. I want to