Key to Survival

Chapter 21 Ammonoid

Warp.

It was Voila's call, waking him. Marionette still slept beside him.

"Let me be," Warp replied aloud. "I'm still recovering from the Twins sisters. What girls!"

We have a culture to integrate, but there's a complication.

"There always is," he said.

Mollusk culture. Emergency.

"I'm not the Glamor of Mollusks. I'm Fungus. I'd have thought you'd have gotten that straight by now, brat."

The Green Glamor is busy elsewhere. You're the Glamor on call for this sector. Get your rear in gear, warp speed.

He had to do it. He sat up and spanked Marionette's saucy bare bottom. "Gotta go, puppet. She who must be obeyed calls."

Marionette woke. "Well, we have had a week off." She rolled off the bed and made for the bathroom.

Very soon they were with Voila. "Situation," she said briskly. "The Ammonoids are ready to join the Coalition.

We need them, though the reason is as yet obscure. But hostiles have abducted the Princess, who is their rightful ruler, preventing her from issuing the protocol. She must be rescued."

"I have to rescue a princess?"

"She is reputed to be lovely, for a squid. Marvelous colors, iridescent shell, delicate tentacles, and not too smart. You should find her irresistible."

Marionette visibly choked off a chortle.

"Why do I have to rescue her? Isn't there a prince, or something?"

"There is, but for obscure reason he won't attempt it. You will have to act in his stead."

"Delight," he said sourly.

"It's a feudal society, with limited magic. Your ikon should work. I have a manual they sent. You will want to study the background detail thoroughly before going there."

"The bleep I will! I just want to get it done."

"I will take the manual," Marionette said.

"It's good to have an adult along," Voila said, handing her the manual. "They lack telepathy, so you can stay in touch that way without sacrificing privacy."

"Just give me the coordinates," Warp said impatiently.

"And to think we call Flame 'Hothead,'" Voila said. "Warp's the true hothead. How can you stand him?"

"I like heat," Marionette said.

Voila gave the coordinates, and Warp took Marionette's hand and conjured them to an available boat. It was pre-programmed for Ammonoid; Voila had of course known he would take the assignment, being able to see farther into the future than he.

They strapped in and relaxed as the boat moved out. Warp took Marionette's hand. The twins had left them both so sexually depleted that this was about as much as he desired at the moment. The twins had been great fun, but Marionette was the one he loved.

"Appreciation," she murmured.

As they traveled, Warp snoozed while Marionette reviewed the manual. She was five years his senior, and there were ways in which she was indeed more mature. He had power; she had responsibility. He needed her.

"Have you picked up on why we need squids in the Coalition?" he asked.

"Negation. But it seems they can significantly help the war against the machines, despite having no space ships of their own. We just have to figure out how."

"What do we call them?"

"Anything convenient to keep individuals straight, as it's all translation of unpronounceable designations. Even calling them king or princess is a stretch; their society is not any analog of any of ours."

"King Ammon-Ra," he said, while she giggled. "Prince Ammon-Ium. Princess Ammon-Ia."

In due course they emerged in Ammonoid space—and there was a machines scout boat.

"Expletive!" Warp swore. "They're all over the place!"

"They are heading away from us," Marionette said. "They may not have seen us."

He checked the near future paths. "But they will. Hang on." It was a superfluous warning, as the boat held them securely in the seats, but he had a certain urge for flair.

He dodged behind the Ammonoid planet, putting it between them and the scout. Then he plunged to intersect the cloud cover surrounding the planet. It was the path that preserved their concealment—the only one.

Immediately below the clouds was the surface: water. They splashed down, sank deep, then floated back to the surface, intact. Their craft had become a sea boat instead of a space boat.

"Clever of you to select water," Marionette remarked, smiling.

"Soft landing," he agreed wryly. As it turned out, Voila was correct: though this planet lacked the Chroma zones of Charm, it did have magic potential, and his ikon was working.

"So what is a machines scout doing in this area?" Marionette asked.

"I fear their far-future seeing told them that the Ammonoids are a danger to them, so they mean to prevent us from recruiting them."

"So if we do recruit them, maybe we should conceal the fact."

He nodded. "It's only a scout, but it could readily summon a battleship to pulverize the planet."

"So we'll try to leave it seemingly un-recruited, so maybe they'll leave it alone for this month."

"That's the idea," he agreed.

Marionette studied a map in the manual. "Dry land at three O'clock, a fair distance."

He resumed propulsion, low level, and moved in that direction. In due course they found it. He beached the boat where his clairvoyance indicated safe harbor.

"The capital town is not far," Marionette said. "On the bottom of the sea."

"Time to become ammonoids," he said.

"Here are the models," she said. "Male and female." she showed him the pictures.

Now he did have to do some studying, because though his magic could change their forms, he had to get them right throughout, internally as well as externally. His clairvoyance was a good start, but it showed mainly what was, rather than why. There were no squid on Earth or Charm quite like these. Marionette guided him with the manual until he had it.

They went out onto the land. The air was chill and barely breathable, even for a Glamor. He put his hands on Marionette and exerted his magic, changing her to a squid with ten tentacles and a long spiraling shell: an ammonoid.

She scrambled into the water. I'm good, she thought.

He focused on himself, and became another shelled squid. Suddenly he was drowning in air. He used his tentacles to haul himself into the water. Now he could breathe.

You have the manual? he asked.

In my shell.

He laughed. That didn't come out the way it would have in air, and he inadvertently propelled himself backward as he squirted jets of water.

I am signaling King Ammon-Ra, Marionette thought. The manual has a call button. He will send an escort party to conduct us to the castle.

More details she had picked up from the manual. Warp appreciated again how she took care of him by handling the details he was typically too impatient to tackle. He was bound to get into trouble without her guidance. She was worth so much more to him than just sex.

And don't you forget it, she thought, amused. She was one of Earth's Mistresses, a person of power, and they had been highly sexual throughout, but sex was the least of it. She was simply more woman than any normal mortal was.

While they waited, they practiced. Each had a central stubby tube that jetted water at high velocity, the recoil sending them forcefully away from whatever they were facing. They took in water, then squeezed it with a muscular bellows-like organ. Their shells were elongated, like spires, and blind; they could not see where they were going.

Evidently the jets were used to escape predators in front, and it didn't matter what lay behind, as it was open water. If something got in the way of the pointed shell, it would be speared.

Each of them had two giant eyes set outside the nest of tentacles. They were good ones; Warp could see detail that he knew his human eyes would not, in this murky water. They also had mouths with large hard bony beaks. They would be able to crunch shelled bivalves for food.

Then there were the colors. All the tentacles were highly colored, with seemingly infinite hues. They changed constantly governed in part by emotions. Surprise was yellow; annoyance was red. This did not depend on external light; the skin itself glowed.

It is emotional, camouflage, but mainly communication, Marionette thought. The Ammonoids speak via shifting patterns of color. Indeed, as she communicated, her nest of tentacles flashed intricately. She almost seemed to disappear behind the kaleidoscopic display.

Amazement, he thought. Sure enough, his own digits turned yellow.

So we must learn locomotion, and color communication, she thought. And manipulation. Straighten out your tentacles.

He tried, but they merely writhed erratically. How?

Each tentacle is equivalent to one of our fingers. The primary ones are the thumbs. Wiggle your fingers.

He tried, and suddenly the tentacles were responsive to his will. They also turned blue.

That is pleasure and control, she thought.

Well, now. He played with the motions and colors, gaining control. Warp had always been a quick study, which was one reason he seldom felt the need to do homework. Increasingly he was coming to like this body.

The king's escort party arrived: three male ammonoids jetting swiftly through the water. Their long pointed shells led; their tentacles trailed. They came up to where Warp and Marionette waited, and swung neatly around so that their eyes and tentacles faced them. The colors of one flashed brightly.

Flash green, Marionette's thought came. That means agreement. Then follow them.

Warp flashed green. The three rotated as one and jetted downward. Warp and Marionette did the same, following them.

They arrived at the castle. It consisted of long buildings resembling the shells of ammonoids, oriented around a much larger shell in the center. Water seemed to pass freely through them. It needs to be constantly fresh, Marionette thought. For breathing.

Oh, of course. No air down here.

They entered one of the tubes and zoomed through the tight pipe. Warp realized that this was ideal for ammonoids, but not for other types of creatures. If there were whales or large fish that preyed on ammonoids, they would be at a disadvantage in these long tubes, if they could navigate them at all. There were probably traps set for unwanted intruders, who would be largely helpless in these tight confines.

They came to the central shell. The escorts jetted out through exit holes, leaving Warp and Marionette alone in the chamber.

Turn Marionette thought.

They both did—and there was the king. He was immediately recognizable by his grandeur. He was larger than the escorts had been, and larger than Warp or Marionette. His shell sparkled iridescently. His tentacles were a royal purple. And he was a Glamor.

Address him, Marionette thought. Turn blue-green to acknowledge his rank, and introduce us. Here are the dialogue patterns. She sent them.

Warp followed her instructions, knowing he was as yet awkward in this mode. He flashed the required colors.

"Greeting, King Ammon-Ra. I am Warp, of the human culture, and my companion is Marionette, also human. I apologize for my clumsiness of expression. This mode is as yet new to me."

"Needless," the king replied graciously. "You have come to help, and we will do what we can to facilitate your mission."

"Appreciation. We wish you to join the Living Cultures Coalition, but understand there is a complication."

Communication was getting easier, but he still had a way to go.

"Confirmation. We do wish to join, but there is a rebel element that does not. That element abducted my daughter the Princess, who when she marries will become Queen, allowing me to retire. Recover her, and we can proceed."

"This is something you are unable to do yourself?"

"I am unable. As King I am not allowed to expose myself to unnecessary risk. Also, by tradition, the one to rescue an abducted princess must be a prince or equivalent figure. Then he can marry her and become King."

"I am a prince, but not of this culture. Do you have an Ammonoid Prince?"

"We do. But he declines to perform the rescue."

"Question?"

"It seems he was captured by this enemy before, and tortured. This left him unwilling to risk recapture."

"This is understandable. But if he has to be the one, what can we do to help? Could we persuade him?"

"Negation. Even if he tried, he would be so wary as to become useless. He could rule, nominally, but not venture into this particular danger. My daughter would be the actual ruler."

"Then what is our role in this?"

"You must emulate him, rescue the Princess, and bring her here to marry the Prince and become Queen."

"Emulate him? I have trouble emulating any Ammonoid, let alone a specific one, let alone a known Prince. Could I rescue the Princess in my own identity?"

The King's tentacles writhed in a colorful smile. "Not unless you wish to marry her. Your present consort might object."

"She would," Marionette said with muted colors.

"There is a problem," Warp agreed.

"As for emulating the Prince, you as a Glamor do have the ability. All you will require will be a little practice and information on his foibles. We will have a banquet this day, where you can observe him. Tomorrow you should be ready."

So it seemed. But he had another question. "I lack experience rescuing captive Princesses. Do I sneak in, cut through a wall, and carry her out?"

"Negation. The rebel stronghold is too well guarded, and they might kill the Princess rather than let her be rescued by stealth. No, you will have to go openly, as the Prince coming to win her from oppression. They will have to admit you, though they will try their best to prevent you from succeeding. They won't do it openly, because it would give them a bad reputation, but there will be seemingly coincidental impediments for you to navigate. Beware, for example, of the Evil Sorcerer's daughter, Naughty Nautilus, who will try to subvert you. She might even pretend to be the Princess, to trick you into marrying her. That would be politically awkward for me."

"I can take Marionette along to safeguard my virtue."

"Negation. There is no one she could impersonate credibly, and as a non-Glamor she would be in danger as you are not. She must remain here, out of view, until your return. Be assured we will treat her well."

He wants to hold me hostage against your performance! Marionette thought indignantly The canny rascal!

"Agreement," Warp flashed, not completely pleased.

"I have a question," the King said via colors. "We are a relatively primitive society, hardly even aware of outer space. We can't leave our waters on our own. What good can we do your Coalition?"

"We don't know," Warp said. "But our special powers indicate that we do need you. It seems that the machines know it too; they have a scout in this vicinity of space."

"The machines," the King repeated. "I know of them, having been advised by visitors from another culture.

But I have not informed my subjects, as there is nothing we can do and the news would alarm them. I prefer that this aspect be kept private."

"Understanding. Agreement. Perhaps it is best that our alien nature be concealed also. We are merely visitors from a far kingdom."

"A Glamor visitor and his consort," the king agreed. "They will assume that you are here to negotiate for the tentacle of my daughter."

"The Prince is not a Glamor?"

"He is not. My daughter the Princess is the only other Glamor in the kingdom."

"If she is a Glamor," Marionette asked, "how can she be held captive?"

The king's tentacles writhed uncomfortably. "The Evil Wizard Naught used treachery to obtain her ikon. He sealed it in a vial, and anchored the vial in a region without magic. That reduced her to mortal status. She was making a state visit at the time; he took her prisoner and holds her hostage. It is a serious violation of protocol, but he is not much of a respecter of protocol. No wizard is."

"Hostage?" Warp asked.

"He wants to marry her, and thus have a claim to usurp my authority."

"But surely she wouldn't let him do that!" Marionette said.

"She may not have a choice. The ceremony is scheduled for next month, once his minions have gathered. She will be drugged."

"But that can't be legitimate."

"It won't be ethical, but the fact of the marriage will swim. Unless you rescue her first."

"I will do that," Warp said. "Do you have any idea where her ikon is kept?"

"Negation. That is part of the challenge of the rescue. You will need to torture a minion into revealing its location."

"This is a challenge," Warp said. "I can't handle an ikon. I will have to take Marionette along."

"Negation. Without information she can't help you."

"I can't help myself if there's no one to carry that ikon."

"If you locate it, we can send someone to take it."

Warp suppressed his frustration. The king was evidently set in his ways.

The banquet was quite fancy. Colorful serving girls brought shells piled with raw clams, chopped eels, selected seaweed, and mounds of jellyfish. It actually turned out to be delicious.

Meanwhile Warp and Marionette quietly observed Prince Ium. He was a noble-looking Ammonoid with excellent manners. He would surely make a suitable figurehead king.

Warp was able to explore his mind somewhat. Now he understood the nature of the torture to which he had been subjected. They had tied him down, then slowly burned back his tentacles, one by one, to extract the maximum pain.

Ium had withstood that pain, refusing to capitulate. When the last tentacle was gone, they had heated his shell, almost cooking his brain. This was the worst. The tentacles grew back in due course, but the brain was partially destroyed, and that could not be healed.

Then they had released him, knowing he was no further threat to them. It was the Princess who was the real challenge. They couldn't torture her the same way; even though she could not do Glamor magic, she remained a formidable creature. Also, they needed her to be functional, for the time when she would be a figurehead Queen.

It wasn't cowardice that stopped the Prince. It was that he no longer had the mental skills required to operate effectively in a dangerous situation. He would only mess it up, and he knew it. His avoidance of this mission was rational.

He did love the Princess, and with her support he knew he could do well. He knew the standard protocols, and could fulfill them, leaving the real governing to la. He didn't mind being a figurehead, considering his limitations.

Warp noted those limitations carefully. He would emulate them to the extent feasible when impersonating the Prince. He would also do his best to win back some respect for the Prince, who was after all worthy.

But still he wondered: what was there in all this that would materially help the Coalition fight the machines?

There certainly had to be something, with both Voila and the machines agreeing on it. But what could it be? Warp was baffled.

He got to spend the night with Marionette. They twined tentacles and compared notes. They also rehearsed the Ammonoid way of making love, just in case they should need that skill. Or so they told each other.

In the morning, which was a schedule rather than any great brightening of the day, Warp set off for the castle of the Usurper. This was a formal mission that the enemy could not decline. Theoretically relations were friendly, and the Princess was merely extending her visit, enjoying the hospitality. The Prince was coming to confer with her. Both would be feted. Then he would depart, while the Princess would elect to visit a while longer.

Warp had hardly started before there was a formidable natural barrier. Fire was burning the field of seaweed through which he had to pass. The flames reached right up to the surface of the sea; there was no way over them.

It was illusion, of course, surely the work of Evil Sorcerer Naught. Flames did not flicker that way in water. As a Glamor he could see though that illusion and know it to be nothing. But he couldn't just walk through them, because other denizens of the sea would believe the fire was real. He had to handle the flames as if they were real, showing no special magical abilities himself.

He explored the situation with clairvoyance and near future paths seeing. Most paths led to his exposure as a magician, and perhaps more. But there was a natural way through.

He found a hillock in the ocean floor and jetted backward, jamming the point of his shell into the ground. Then, anchored, he started jetting water forward toward the wall of flames. The current intersected the wall, and pushed it.

He continued, forming a rupture as the flames ballooned in that section, stretching out. Then they snapped, stretched beyond their capacity, for even illusion had limits. There was a hole in the wall.

Warp put he tentacles down and wedged his shell out of the ground. He spun about, and jetted through the hole before the flames could fill it in again. He was through.

But of course Naught would be trying again, determined to stop the Prince before he ever arrived. That was better than having to deal with the Prince's open challenge.

Warp jetted on toward the castle, spreading his awareness ahead. Sure enough, a monster was on the way to intercept him. This was a real one, not illusionary, and represented a real danger. Again, as a Glamor, he could handle it, but a mortal Prince would be in serious trouble. How could he foil the monster without revealing his nature?

He found it. He diverged slightly from the straight route, seeking a private region to expel routine body wastes.

That was completely normal and understandable. But he did it where some bitterweed grew. He picked several ripe strands and carefully formed them into a ball. The weed was springy, but he held it tight with several tentacles, careful not to provoke it into releasing its defensive ichor. Then he resumed forward travel, for all that this was actually backward, his shell leading the way.

The monster came. It was a whale, enormously larger than any ammonoid, of a type that normally preyed on shelled creatures. Its huge jaws could crush a shell like thin tissue, and its digestive juices could readily dissolve both flesh and shell. Theoretically the predatory whales had been cleared from this region, but every so often one got through. It would be difficult to prove that this was not random.

The whale spied Warp. It wasted no time. It swooped down, its jaws gaping.

Warp blew the ball of bitterweed into that open mouth. The motion caused the ball to unwind, sending its strands springing out, releasing their reserves of ichor. A cloud formed just within the mouth as the jaws snapped shut.

Warp dodged out of the way, knowing the correct path. The teeth crunched on the bitterweed. That really set it off. Ichor fairly squirted out.

The whale looked as if it had a sudden horrible toothache. It backed off, spitting out the strands. But it was too late, for ichor coated teeth and gums. The bitterness was intolerable.

The whale fled. It would take it some time to clear the horrible taste, and its gums would ache for some time thereafter. Nothing bit down hard on bitterweed. Not intentionally.

Warp made a humorous writhing of his tentacles and jetted on. Two challenges down.

The third was not long in coming. Warp jetted through a seaweed forest and emerged to discover a vast army ahead: hundreds or thousands of armed ammonoids closing in on him. They weren't jetting backwards in the normal manner, they were angling their jets to move slowly forward, watching to make sure he couldn't escape. Their spears looked deadly sharp.

They were illusion, like the fire. But they looked real, and any ordinary person would be fooled. Warp could see though illusion, so he knew their nature. The prince would not have been able to see through them, even if he strongly suspected. And of course hidden among them were a few real soldiers, who would dispatch anyone who tried to brave the illusion. With a hundred attackers closing in, how could the victim know which one was real?

Warp jetted back into the forest, hiding. This was a temporary expedient, as the forest was not large, and the soldiers would soon enter it from all sides and locate him. Then he would have to fight, and if he won, his nature would be known. He would seem to be an alien impostor with unnatural powers, which of course he was. The people would never accept such interference in their politics.

This was the Evil Sorcerer's intention: to expose Warp as the impostor he was. To make it politically unfeasible for him to rescue the Princess. Only the Prince could legitimately rescue her.

He explored the myriad near future paths—and found one he hadn't thought of. This hazard could readily be messed up.

He altered his appearance, assuming the likeness of one of the soldiers, complete with spear. He moved through the forest, orienting on one of the real soldiers. Then he pounced from ambush, stabbing the soldier through a tentacle.

"Target found!" he flashed. "Pretending to be one of us!"

"You're the target!" the soldier flashed, hurting and outraged.

"What nerve!" Warp flashed. "Give it up, impostor, we've caught you."

The other soldiers were confused. The many illusions followed the example of the few real ones, and the real ones were not sure which of the two accusing soldiers was correct. One of the real ones had to get close enough to recognize the two personally.

There was a convergence as a real soldier rapidly approached, mirrored by twenty pretend ones. The twenty so obscured the scene that by the time the real one verified the identity of the wounded soldier, Warp was safely away, lost amidst the hundreds. They would never find him now. He had found the one place to hide that could not be penetrated: their own number.

He worked his way to the back of the throng, then slipped away, unobserved. His awareness of the near future paths enabled him to time it perfectly, when no one was looking. His awareness did not show, so was safe to use, provided he chose the correct paths.

He reached the usurper castle without further event; evidently the Evil Sorcerer had given up on intercepting him.

Now where was the Princess? He clairvoyantly checked the castle, and found a cellar chamber where a lovely female was confined. That would be it.

He went to that chamber, avoiding discovery by guards, and addressed the female. "Princess," he flashed.

"Prince!" she flashed in glad response. "You have come to rescue me!" She was stunningly pretty up close. Voila had teased him about the sexy squid princess, but it was true.

"I have," he agreed. "But we must be careful, lest we be discovered."

"I didn't think you would. I thought you lacked the nerve."

"My lack of nerve has been exaggerated."

"I know the guards' rounds," she said eagerly. "One is due soon; then they'll retire for an hour to gamble."

"That will do." He retreated, avoiding discovery by the "soon" guard. Once he passed, Warp returned.

"There's a loose bar," she said. "I lack the strength to free it, but surely you can."

He found it, and loosened it without undue difficulty. Then he used it to pry out another bar, giving her space to leave the chamber.

They jetted down the passage, and were safely out of the castle well before the guard was due to check the cell again. It was almost too easy.

That alerted Warp. He checked—and found that the Princess was not a Glamor. She was a mortal ammonoid.

A fake.

He had fallen for the ruse. He was disgusted.

"Beware—there are more patrols around the castle," she flashed.

He knew; he was watching them with his wider awareness. His problem was more immediate: what to do with this impostor? He knew whom she was: Naughty Nautilus, the Evil Wizard's daughter. The King had warned him about her. Warp simply hadn't been properly alert.

She turned to face him, her tentacles writhing fetchingly, the colors of concern. "Are you well, Prince? You seem confused."

He had to be rid of her, but it wouldn't do to tell her what he knew, because that would reveal his own nature.

He had to find a natural way to "discover" her identity. For now he would have to play along.

"I get nervous under pressure," he flashed.

"So you do have some remaining nerve damage," she said sympathetically. "There were horrible stories. I hoped they weren't true."

"They were true. I function, but with limitations."

"You poor thing!" She twined tentacles with him, evincing caring. "You were so brave to come rescue me, after your awful experience."

The odd thing was, she was not pretending. She really did feel for him. "Appreciation," he flashed, out of sorts.

"Would you like me to damp down those dreadful memories?" she asked. "So they won't limit you as much?"

This surprised him in more than one way. Was such a thing possible? And why would an enemy impostor want to do it for him? Curiosity drove him as much as practicality. But at the moment they needed to be escaping, before the guards discovered the empty cell. Assuming that mattered, in this elaborate ruse. "First we need to get well clear of the castle."

"No we don't. The Evil Wizard's minions will be swarming throughout this area, overturning every clamshell.

We can't avoid them in the open sea. But I know a place to hide. This way." She jetted away.

He followed, perplexed. What was she up to?

There was an old fracture in the rock beneath the castle. They entered this, and found an ancient labyrinth of caves. She led him to a deep one, large enough for them to face each other, and settled to the floor. "No one comes here," she flashed. "It is reputed to be haunted."

"Is it?" he asked, bemused.

"Yes. The Evil Sorcerer put a curse on it, so no one would sneak in and try to undermine the foundation. But I'm not afraid of the curse, and surely you aren't."

"How did you know of this?"

"I overheard the guards talking. They think prisoners are nonentities, destined to be executed eventually, so they don't much care what they hear. I know all the castle secrets." She oriented on him. "But enough of that. We must hide here several hours, until the search dies out in frustration. Now let me take care of those nasty memories." She twined tentacles with him again.

Warp let her do it. He remained curious about her ability and motive. Also, her tentacles were exceedingly soft, shapely, and conducive. He had never before touched limbs like these. Of course he hadn't been in this form long.

"I don't quite understand how this can affect memories," he flashed.

"By overwriting them with better ones," she explained. She tightened her multi-contact grip on him, drew their beaks together, and kissed him. In this species that took the form of clicking beaks gently together, but the effect was just as potent. "Now when you're in a dark dungeon-like place, you will think of this instead of torture." She clicked beaks again.

Warp couldn't help it. He clicked beaks back. Then nature took over. They drew each other ever-closer together until their tentacles were practically knotted, constantly clicking. Then his special reproductive tentacle slid out and pushed into her ready socket, and his seed packet squeezed urgently into her. Her socket closed around it, as his spent tentacle withdrew and the rapture of the climax slowly faded.

They had just had glorious sex. Warp couldn't help this either: he liked her. She was an enemy agent, there to subvert him, but she was a fantastically attractive creature.

"We'll do more of this after we're married," she flashed brightly.

This had gone far enough. He had to unmask her, by seemingly natural means, so he could get on with the business of rescuing the real princess. He did a quick exploration of paths, and found the simplest one to accomplish his purpose.

"That was my greatest experience since before your capture," he flashed.

"Oh? Have you been trying lesser girls in the interim?"

"Naturally not. None could compare to you. Do you remember when I visited the royal castle to court you, and your father made me sleep in a distant cell so I had no opportunity to sneak into your suite? He even had guards patrolling, for my safety, he said."

"Well, he is naturally protective. He's an old fashioned shell."

"But he reckoned without your ingenuity. You know all the hidden ways there as well as here, and you sneaked in to see me, avoiding the guards. Don't tell me you have forgotten that tryst!"

"Of course not. But a lady doesn't bruit such things carelessly about. It would be bad for one's reputation."

"Next day I met you formally, and you gave no hint. You even seemed slightly wary of me."

"I was always good at make believe," she agreed.

"You are some girl, Naughty."

"Thank you." Then her tentacles stiffened. "What?"

"The Princess and I never trysted, though not for lack of trying. The King's minions were too alert. You have to be an impostor, and there's only one who could hope to succeed."

"Poisoned shellfish guts!" she swore. "You knew, and you let me seduce you?"

"You are a highly seductive creature."

"Well, you might as well kill me now, because otherwise I will tell my father, and he will kill the Princess."

"I don't think I could do that."

"Don't tell me that torture made you soft-tentacled!"

Warp was exploring paths, and discovered one that solved most problems. He could have saved himself some trouble if he had seen it before, but it had been beyond his range until now. His effort to conceal his identity and nature had been wasted. "That is impossible."

"They cut off all your tentacles, and boiled your shell! You're lucky you survived at all. I was appalled. I told my father that if he ever did anything like that again, I would go join the King's harem. That set him back, and when he captured the Princess he spared her that treatment. But the damage was done to you. I can't blame you for wanting to destroy me."

"Let me explain. It is impossible, because I am no more the Prince than you are the Princess. We are both impostors."

"You're an impostor? I am outraged! I never would have accepted your packet if I had known. Who the smelly eel-refuse are you?"

"I am an alien Glamor."

"A Glamor! What interest do either Glamors or aliens have in local politics?"

"We want to recruit the Ammonoids to join the Living Cultures Coalition, to fight the marauding machines. The King agreed to do this, if we rescued his daughter. She will become Queen, marry the Prince, and join the Coalition."

"But our world, our culture, has nothing to offer you. We do know of the machines; at least the King does, the Princess does, and my father and I do. We haven't told the commoners; it would only upset them. But we're a medieval society. We don't even have a spaceship."

"You do have something to offer," Warp said, seeing it take shape as the correct paths clarified. "You especially. Our ships need you."

She laughed, multiple tentacles jiggling against his. She was a tease even when not trying to be. "I'm an entertainer. I divert people from their sorry dull lives, so my father can squeeze their remaining sustenance from them.

That has nothing to do with space ships."

"That has everything to do with space ships," he flashed earnestly. "You are perfect."

"I may be the perfect mistress, but somehow I doubt that is your meaning. What would I ever do on a space ship?"

"Background: ships can spend long times in space, especially in time of war. We are now at war with the machines. They will completely destroy us of we don't stop them. So our ships never put in to port; they are perpetually on maneuvers, ready to engage the enemy. This means their crews are constantly in danger of death, because the machines are of a higher technology and without decency and will destroy any opposition without mercy. That is hard on living creatures who have to face them."

"Akin to being prisoners," she agreed. "Relevance?"

"They suffer from space cafard. That is boredom, depression, and hopelessness. Occasionally one will snap and go berserk, killing a number of his fellows before being neutralized. This is not good for the morale of the survivors. There is a fair amount of attrition before a ship ever engages the enemy."

"I appreciate that. You need to give them planetary leave to unwind."

"We do. But often the ships are in the territory of other cultures, too far from home. They need diversion on the ships themselves. There are games, holographs, and of course the crews are mixed genders so that social relations occur. But things get stale. We need professional entertainers who will go from ship to ship, providing superior distraction. I have been doing it some, spinning yarns, but more is required. My stories are mainly verbal—that's like colored light communication—but they would be far more effective if buttressed by someone who could form animated pictures, even in the absence of magic."

"Now I appreciate the relevance. You want me and other ammonoid entertainers to go to space. That prospect is daunting."

"The alternative may be death."

"May be? You can kill me any time. You are offering slavery in space instead. That would do for me, but would not be appealing for those who have committed no crimes."

"The machines have a scout in this region of space. That means they are preparing to invade. They will take over the planet, abduct any people who might prove useful to them in any way, though they are not interested in entertainment, mine the planet, and destroy it. If you ignore the threat, you have perhaps months to live."

"And going to space ships would help alleviate that threat?"

"Affirmation. It will keep the crews of the living cultures in better condition, better able to function, so that they may be able to take out more enemy ships. It may not be enough to save your culture or mine, but it will help."

"This is a rationale. How can I believe it?"

"Here is my mind." She was not naturally telepathic, but he projected his surface mind to hers so that she could fathom its nature and sincerity.

"Wonder," she flashed. "I believe. But there is something else." She brought her request to the surface.

He had found her intriguing, and he liked her. The same was true of her. Part of it was the inherent fascination any Glamor had, but more it was their brief experience together. She wanted more of him.

"Yes," he agreed. "Work with me, recruit other ammonoid entertainers to this cause, enable me to rescue the Princess, and I will let you join my troupe so you can be one of my mistresses."

"Done."

"Now about the Princess—"

"She is in another private chamber. But rescuing her will be pointless unless you also recover her ikon."

"Do you know where it is?"

"No."

"Who does know?"

"Only the Evil Wizard. And be assured he won't tell."

"I had hoped to avoid him. But I have to free that ikon."

"Which means you'll have to take him on."

"Do you have a problem with that?"

She considered. "After what you showed me in your mind, and your promise to me, I think not. Talk to him. Explain, as you did to me. Maybe he'll let you have it."

"Doubt."

"In any event, he'll be out hunting for me, that is, the Princess, putting on a show, though he really wants me to go with you, that is, the Prince."

"He does?"

"If I am able to maintain the ruse, emulating the Princess, and you marry me, that's a claim to the throne, which is what he really wants. The King will know better, but might be powerless to prevent it."

"That's an idiot plot."

"It's a mad plot. There's a difference."

"Naught's mad?"

"Pretty much. But as I said, you can't reach him now without having to fight off the whole army.

You'll have to wait until morning."

He hoped to wait longer than that to encounter the Evil Sorcerer. He very much doubted the man would be amenable to reason, regardless what his loyal daughter thought. "So I must spent the night here with you?"

"That's the idea. And I will be seducing you all the way."

Warp considered. There were worse ways to spend the night.

When the seduction was done, and Naughty was sleeping, Warp reached out telepathically to contact Marionette. Are you satisfactory?

I am with King Ra. He's lonely.

Warp was taken aback. Doesn't he have a harem?

Yes, but he can't really trust anyone. Any one of those females might be an enemy agent waiting to get him alone. He's a Glamor. They can't hurt him. He felt her wry smile. But they might try. That would be politically awkward. They don't know he's a Glamor. In fact, they don't know what a Glamor is.

So why is he with you?

I'm an alien creature. I have no designs on his throne and am not looking to embarrass him. He can trust me.

And why are you with him?

He is a royal male. And he is a Glamor. I seem to be attracted to the type.

He's old!

He was old when he turned Glamor. Even an old Glamor is special. I'd give your father Havoc a turn if he let me. Any Earth Mistress would, and some have.

Warp shook his head. That translated to a twitching of his jetting spout. Ludicrous. She was teasing him, but only to a degree. His father could have his way with just about any woman, and often did. Havoc left Marionette alone purely out of courtesy to Warp.

Naughty woke as the jet of water sprayed across her tentacles. "So eager, again, so soon?"

"Unintentional." And what are you up to? Marionette demanded. I'm with Naughty. She's emulating the Princess. And you're fussing about me, you horny male? she demanded indignantly. She's neither royal nor Glamor. She had him there. Have a good time with the King. I am. He's into me now. It's different from the human body, but the essence is similar.

Ooo, that's one evocative tentacle!

"Are you paying attention?" Naughty demanded, twining tentacles with vigor. "How could I not?" He left Marionette to the King and went to work on Naughty. He knew he had no business being jealous of Marionette's no fault relationships, any more than she had being jealous of his. But somehow it helped to imagine that Naughty was Marionette. "So ardent!" Naughty flashed appreciatively. In the morning they went to rescue the Princess. Warp hoped that she would be able to guide them to her ikon, if only by the repulsive effect it had on her. Naughty showed him the way to a high turret isolated from the rest of the castle. There was the Princess, resting on a platform, using her tentacles to knit a warm blanket from sea moss wool. "Greeting, Princess Ia,"

Warp flashed. "I have come to rescue you." She jumped, startled. "Prince Ium! You came!" Then she saw Naughty behind him. "And the slut is emulating me!"

"A ploy that failed," Naughty flashed. "I will resume my own aspect." She shifted, subtly and unsubtly, becoming another ammonoid female. She remained quite pretty. "I need to locate your ikon," Warp flashed.

"You should be able to indicate its direction."

"No need. It is here." She indicated an alcove in the wall. There was an ikon shaped like a miniature ammonoid female. In fact it looked exactly like the Princess. Warp was amazed. "How can it be here? I thought it was securely hidden."

"Where no one would suspect," la flashed. "In plain sight. Here in the turret in the no-magic zone. I can't touch it, and it can't help me. A fiendish ploy."

"Take it into a magic zone," Ward told Naughty.

"I can't do that," Naughty flashed.

"Are you reneging on our deal?"

"Father won't let me."

"Indeed I won't," another Ammonoid flashed. There, emerging from a curtained closet, was a male Ammonoid.

"Naught Nautilus," Warp flashed, amazed.

"I knew that if you fathomed my daughter's masquerade, you would come next for the real Princess," Naught flashed. "So I lurked here for you. Now I can deal with you directly, Prince."

"Delete it, father. He's not the Prince."

Now it was la's turn to be astonished. "He's not?"

"I am Warp, an alien Glamor."

"So that's why you have the nerve to come here! You're an impostor."

"So it seems," Warp agreed, unruffled.

"Then why are you here?"

Warp explained about the threat from the machines. "So you can obtain no lasting benefit from keeping the Princess prisoner," he concluded. "All you can do is ensure the doom of the entire Ammonoid culture."

"I don't believe it," the Wizard flashed.

"It's the truth, father," Naughty flashed. "He showed me his mind. We have to give the Princess back."

"Never! I won't let you take that ikon. I'm going to marry the Princess and assume control of the kingdom."

"I told you he was mad," Naughty flashed to Warp.

"Take the ikon, Naughty," Warp flashed. "Carry it back to the King's castle."

Naughty went to pick up the ikon.

"So you are betraying me?" the Wizard demanded.

"I don't think so, father. I think you should bargain to gain some advantage. Better a lesser title than the destruction of the whole planet."

"I think not. I think I can have the whole planet, and the Princess as my love."

"Then I have to take the ikon from your control," Warp said. "So that the Princess regains her magic powers. Then you won't be able to force her into anything."

"I think not. I will prevent you. My daughter won't act without my leave, and you can't touch the ikon yourself."

Warp glanced at Naughty. She wiggled a tentacle helplessly. She would not go directly against her father.

So it would come down to tentacle to tentacle combat. The Wizard evidently thought he could prevail physically.

However, Warp was the son of a martial artist, and he had learned from Havoc. He had a natural talent with weapons.

"I can't touch the Ikon. But I can touch you," Warp flashed.

"And I can confound you with magic," the Sorcerer flashed.

"Negation. You have to keep the ikon out of magic, to prevent the Princess from escaping. This chamber is magic free."

The Wizard nodded. "So we must settle this the old fashioned way, by personal combat." He was aware that he would have to deal with Warp his way, rather than try further tricks.

"Terms," Warp said. "I win, you give up Princes, Ikon, and claim to the throne."

"I win, you and your female get off the planet and leave me to my devices unchallenged."

"I don't like this," Naughty said. "The machines will destroy us all."

"So he says," the Wizard said contemptuously.

"You win, father, I still want to get off the planet," she flashed.

"He wins, I'll take you and any other volunteers to space," Warp agreed. "I win, I'll still take you."

"How are you at gauntlets?" the Wizard asked confidently.

Warp did a quick clairvoyant review. "I can handle them."

"There are two sets in the drawer." He flicked a tentacle toward it.

They donned the gauntlets. These were metallic sleeves that fit over the ten tentacles, with interior grips and knifelike outer edges. These could cut off tentacles.

"Winner is the last one with a tentacle left?" Warp asked.

"Correct. We are fighting for the planet, not for our lives."

Warp saw that the Wizard meant it. He was in his fashion an honorable creature. "Agreement."

They moved toward each other. The Wizard was obviously well experienced in this kind of combat, but Warp was a Glamor. It was a fair fight.

Naught struck rapidly with three tentacles, aiming for three of Warp's. But Warp was reading the near future paths, and while he wasn't apt with them beyond the first few minutes, he was quite competent the first minute. He saw the cuts coming, and moved only those three tentacles clear, so that the blade-like gauntlets swished by harmlessly. Then he countered by striking at one of the Wizard's tentacles, while feinting at three others.

Naught blocked the strike and ignored the feints. Evidently he could tell the difference, and did not waste effort on the ones that didn't count. He did know how to fight.

The Wizard struck again, this time simultaneously high and low. Warp saw it coming, and blocked both thrusts while aiming two at the center. Naught readily blocked both. "So you do have some expertise," he remarked.

"I have what I need," Warp flashed. "Are you sure you want to continue? I can injure you at any time."

"Oh? How?"

Warp spied the key path. "This way." He swung a gauntlet at a central tentacle, and a second at a place where there was nothing. Naught blocked the first, in the process moving his tentacle into the path of Warp's second. The blade cut through, and the severed tentacle fell writing to the floor, oozing ichor.

"Nice combination," the Wizard said, and struck with five other gauntlets, a formidable barrage.

Warp avoided three, countered two, and angled a blade in to sever one of the countered ones. A second tentacle fell.

"Naught, cease!" Princess la flashed, moving forward to come between them. "You can't beat him!"

"Two wounds does not finish a fight," the Wizard flashed. "I have other strategies. Clear the way."

Obviously he was no coward, and not one to be daunted by pain or incapacity. Warp stepped back, letting the Wizard handle the Princess.

"He's a Glamor!" she flashed. "He can see alternate tracks before they occur. I thought he was bluffing, as not all Glamors can do this. I can't. You have no chance. Yield, before he destroys you."

This was interesting. It was almost as if she didn't want to be rescued.

Naught looked at Warp. "True? You can see my moves before I make them?"

"True."

"So my choice is to yield now, or after I lose all my limbs."

"True."

"And forfeit my ambitions, and let the Princess be taken back to marry the Prince."

"True."

"I prefer to finish the fight." The Wizard floated around the Princess, ready to face Warp again.

"No!" Ia flashed. "I will never marry the Prince! You are the one I love." She caught the stub of one of his several tentacles and put her jet to it, cleaning it. Then she put salve on it, stopping the welling.

Surprised, Warp glanced at Naughty. She seemed similarly confused.

Even Naught was taken aback. "But you resisted my advances."

"A girl doesn't yield on the first date. I thought you wanted me for my position." She attended to the other tentacle.

"I do."

"And is that all?"

"No. I love you. You are lovely and spirited. But this is a business matter."

"Then get the business done. Propose to me."

Naught looked somewhat helplessly at his daughter. "Does this make sense to you?"

"It could, father, if she has thought it through." She looked at la. "Have you?"

"My suitor is the Prince, who is a decent male but lacks the gumption to do the necessary. The male I marry must have the intelligence and nerve to govern aptly. I am beautiful but not smart; I know my limitation. I need a husband who possesses the traits I lack, so he can guide me in governing well. Naught is that male."

"You never gave a hint of your feeling," Naught flashed. "I thought I would have to rape you, after a forced ceremony, to consummate the marriage."

"I didn't know my feeling, until I saw you hurting." She twined several of his tentacles in hers. "And you couldn't rape me."

"Because you would recover the use of your ikon, and have your full Glamor powers?" he flashed.

"No. Because I long for your embrace. Let's get married soon."

Now the Wizard looked at Warp. "You have won the fight, but it seems not the Princess. Will you let me have her?"

What could he do? "If the King agrees. Will you swear fealty to the King, and serve his interests loyally?"

"For the love if la I will do even that."

"But what of the Prince?" Naughty asked.

"I can take him to space, an early recruit," Warp said. "If he agrees." Naughty shook her tentacles. "Give me one night with him, and I guarantee he will agree to anything I ask."

They all laughed, flashing colors. It seemed that the crisis had been solved.