Virtual Mode

CHAPTER 4—VIRTUAL MODE

DARIUS looked around him. The familiar landscape of his home reality was newly unfamiliar, after his acclimation to the alternate reality. He gazed at it with a new appreciation.

He stood on a dais, the one addressed by the Chip. One hop distant—or about twenty feet, in Colene’s system—was the larger dais of the Cyng of Pwer. Between was the serrate wilderness: a land surface so jagged that it was not possible to walk on it. Only by pounding a temporary path through the crystals could it be made passable by foot, and that was pointless, because in days the crystals would regenerate, and their new, smaller spikes would be sharper than the old ones had been. Also, who would want to damage such prettiness? The original crystals were all the natural colors and some generated ones, shifting iridescently in the changing light of the sun.

He glanced up. There were good cloud formations, pink above green and yellow. A heavy purple cloud was slowly descending, and below it the trees on their common dais were extending their black leaves, ready to draw nourishment. The light of the sun was refracting through a colorless cloud, its beams re-radiating out to be intercepted by the other clouds, each of which took its color from the color of the light it received.

It was good to be home!

A figure appeared on the main dais. The man spied Darius. He made a gesture, and a bridge appeared, spanning the ragged gap between them.

Darius stepped onto the bridge, and felt his weight diminishing. It was what Colene would have called a virtual bridge: it acted like a real one, but it was mock. He was able to use it because his weight was being reduced almost to nothing. Pwer had simply invoked a miniature bridge with a figurine, and was marching the latter across the former. Darius had allowed him to make the figurine because it was essential to the process of traveling to another reality. Otherwise, the magic would not have had effect.

He completed his crossing and stood before the Cyng of Pwer. “You return alone,” the man said.

“I found her,” Darius said. “I love her. But I misjudged her. She was depressive.”

Pwer was startled. “How could you make an error like that?”

“There is no transfer in her reality. I judged by appearances, not direct mental contact, and she laughed much. But it was because she liked me. Her contacts with me were limited, and her joy was limited to her time with me. Her underlying nature was suicidal.”

“Your power did not work there?”

“Not at all. I thought it did when I kissed her and felt love, and she felt love, but it seems we were each generating our own in the company of the other. I was entirely dependent on verbal language. Much of my time was spent learning it, so that we could communicate. It was in that period of close association that we came to love each other.”

“You should have brought her.”

“I could not marry her! It would have killed her.”

“And what will she do, alone?”

That made Darius pause. “She—she could kill herself.”

“Could? You fool! She surely will!”

“We can’t know that! Maybe her experience with me will change her outlook, and she will become less suicidal.”

“Unlikely, since she is slated to die anyway.”

“What?”

“Don’t you remember? Only those who are destined to have little effect on their realities can be removed from them. That is why the Chip oriented on her.”

“I know. Yet in her case, it seemed to me—” Darius shook his head. “I blinded myself.”

“The Chip was set to orient only on those whose impact is minimal. Some may have more impact by dying than by living. But in most cases, an early death best accounts for it. This may usually be by accident or disease, but it is evident that your young woman will soon kill herself.”

“I left her there, to do what she would, alone!” Darius cried, stricken. “I lost track entirely. I forgot the larger picture.”

“Whereas here she could have been with you, and at least died happy.”

“But she did not believe. She fetched me the key, but thought it was my fantasy. She did not want to commit to one she thought crazy.”

“She surely believes now.”

“Surely now,” Darius agreed, crushed. “I should have insisted—but when I knew I could not marry her—”

“Cyngs of Hlahtar do not remain functional indefinitely. You might have married her when you gave up the post.”

“I was a fool,” Darius said.

“Will you now settle to the normal course?”

Darius thought of marrying a woman he did not love, instead of Colene. “I can not.”

“Or try the Chip again?”

He thought of searching for another woman of a suitable nature to love and marry. “I can not.”

“Then it appears we have a problem.”

“There must be another way!” Darius exclaimed. “I must go to her again! She would come with me, now that she believes.”

“There is a way. But it is fraught with complication and danger.”

Darius grasped at it. “What way?”

“Before, we set up the simplest connection between realities, as it were a line. It is possible to set up a more complicated connection, if more than one point is established, as it were a plane. The line could be flung out and recalled only once, but the plane would be more durable.”

“A Virtual Mode!” Darius breathed.

“A what?”

“A temporary Mode that crosses other Modes, like a block of mica sliced crosswise. It would be possible to walk from one part to another, from this Mode to her Mode.”

“I had not pictured it that way, but it is true. However you picture it, it may be the way to do what you desire. However, the complications—”

Darius was abruptly certain. “Describe them.”

“Because it would entail some time away from this Mode, you can not go without finding another Cyng of Hlahtar to serve in your stead, at least temporarily. One as competent as you.”

“There is none!”

“Not among those who have not yet served.”

Now Darius understood his reference. “A retired Hlahtar? But none of them would serve again!”

“Not unless the inducement were considerable.”

“What possible inducement could there be? They have wealth and power and respect already; they need nothing. None would wish to suffer the agonies of depletion and wife discarding again.”

“You might inquire.”

“And if I can get one to serve, you will set up the Virtual Mode?”

“After this warning: no person who has gone this route has returned. We do not know whether each has found what he sought and been satisfied, or has died. We know nothing, except that we shall wait with no expectation for your return.”

That was why another Hlahtar had to serve in his stead.

DARIUS was at the moment poorly acclimated to his native Mode, having been so long unable to do any magic, but he did not wait. He did not know how long Colene would linger before letting the rest of her blood drain away.

He walked into the forest and found several twigs and bits of vine. He bound these together into a crude man-figure. Then he pulled out five hairs from his head and tucked them into the two legs, two arms, and one head of the figurine.

Now he had made an icon of himself. It was crude, but it should do.

He touched his tongue to it, anointing it with his saliva. Now it was twice tuned to him, to his solid and his liquid. All it required was his air.

He breathed on it. “You are the icon of the Cyng of Hlahtar,” he murmured, activating it and tuning it in. Then he set it on the ground and marked a circle around it. He also marked several irregular shapes, and a wavy line. “You are here, among these trees, and near this river.” He marked a square a short distance away, with several points beside it. “The Castle of Hlahtar is there, beside the mountains.” Then he jumped the figure from the circle to the edge of the square.

The world around him wrenched. He caught his balance, almost falling. Yes, he was clumsy after the layoff! But he was here before his castle, having conjured himself here by the use of sympathetic magic. It was good to be able to travel normally again!

He lifted the icon to his mouth. “You are inert,” he breathed on it. It wouldn’t do to carry an active personal icon around with him, its feedback from his motions interfering with his activities! He put it in his pocket—and realized that he was not in his normal attire, but in the odd clothing of Colene’s Mode. It was a good thing he had decided to come home before visiting the former Hlahtars!

A maid spied him and shrieked. “A strange man-form!” she cried.

“No, a familiar one, in strange attire,” he called. “You know me, Ella!”

She shrieked again. “It’s the Cyng!” She ran out to come to him, her breasts bobbing, and flung herself into his arms. “Did you find a wife?”

“Not exactly.”

“Oh, too bad! Then you must settle for me in your bed a while longer.”

“That is no chore,” he said, patting her shapely derriere.

Indeed, it was late, and he needed to rest. He would have to wait until tomorrow to visit the retired Cyngs.

THAT night, after celebrating his return with a minor feast, he came to his bed. Ella was there, moving over so he could have the spot she had warmed for him. She had always been thoughtful in such little ways, and often forgetful in big ways. She was cheerful, buxom, and pretty, but not phenomenally smart, and she had not the slightest ability to multiply joy. Therefore she would never be other than a servant and in due course a servant’s wife. She could be very pleasant as a nocturnal companion.

But tonight he found himself unmoved. “Please, do not expect more of me than sleep,” he said.

“You are annoyed with me?” she asked, hurt.

“No, Ella, merely indisposed.”

“Why?” This was not a proper question, but part of her delight was her social naïveté.

“I have another woman on my mind.”

“Who?”

“The one I wished to marry. But I could not.”

“Oh. Why not?”

“Because she is depressive.”

“But you could have her in bed as a servant, same as me.”

“Somehow I forgot that. I wanted to marry her.”

“Well, you could, if you weren’t Cyng.”

It was a foolish statement, readily dismissed. But somehow it struck home. If he were not Cyng of Hlahtar.

But he could not just step down. He was the only one who could serve the post with the necessary expertise. Except for the former Cyngs, who would not resume the post any longer than absolutely necessary. If he could step down, without having completed his term, he would be no better than a servant himself, and Colene might not have liked that. No, the only way was to complete his term and retire; then he could have the blessing of marriage for love and permanence.

But if he could use the Virtual Mode to find Colene, and bring her back, and keep her here in servant status until he retired, then he could marry her, and their love would never have been sacrificed. Colene had said she would be willing to endure something of the kind; he just hadn’t quite listened. It was feasible. He just had to get her back.

“Thank you, Ella,” he said, and kissed her.

“Oooo,” she exclaimed, thrilled to have pleased him. She clasped him to her, and didn’t mind that all he did was fall asleep.

IN the morning he used one of his established icons to travel to the castle of the Cyng of Hlahtar who had preceded him. This was Kublai, a huge red-bearded man. The man’s dais was extremely high, so that the trees on it could feed from the higher level, before other plants depleted the nutrients. As a result, the trees were impressive, their trunks brilliant green and their foliage extensive.

Darius stood at the edge of the dais, in the region reserved for visitors. “I am Darius,” he said, “Cyng of Hlahtar, come for a dealing.” Again he remembered Colene, who had spoken of dealing for the Mode key. She had done so much for him, considering her unbelief, and he had done nothing for her.

Kublai appeared. “Welcome, Darius! Come into my house!”

With that invitation, Darius stepped out of the visitors’ area and walked the path to the castle. Had he tried to do it uninvited, he would have invoked the dais defenses, which could be of any nature. He would not have attempted to breach courtesy even if prepared for the defenses; a man’s castle was his home.

Kublai’s young and pretty wife served them condensed cloudfruit while they talked. Her name was Koren. She was evidently happy; there had been no depletion of her joy. That was the delight of retirement. Gazing at her, Darius knew his mission here was lost; Kublai would not give up his love-marriage to resume the post.

“News has spread of your concern,” Kublai said. “Not widely, but I believe I know how you feel.”

“Surely you do!” Darius agreed. “I have divorced my second wife, and she was a good woman, and loyal. I could have loved her, but never dared.”

“I divorced ten,” Kublai said. “Each one was painful. Some I did love. But it was a great relief when you came of age and displaced me.”

“I did not truly appreciate the onus, until I saw my first wife depleted,” Darius said. “We had known it would happen from the start, and there was no blame, no rancor. But her joy was gone, and I think even now she can not take pleasure in the good life she has as a retired wife.”

“She will recover her joy in time,” Kublai said. “She may remarry a normal man, and have offspring. Several of mine did.”

“But the flower of her youth will be gone in depression.”

“It is an unkind price,” Kublai agreed.

“I think this is hopeless, but I must ask,” Darius said. “I can not allow any person to take my place who can not perform as well as I would. Only former Cyngs of Hlahtar can do that.”

“Tell me of the need that brings you to this pass.” Darius described his visit to the other Mode, and his encounter with Colene. “I hoped she would be a multiplier,” he said. “The Chip was tuned to such. But she was depressive. She would have multiplied a negative balance.”

“But you love her,” Kublai said.

“I love her. I thought it was just my expectation, and would fade when I realized that I was mistaken about her. But I hadn’t realized that she was doomed to die. Here, at least, perhaps she could live. If not, at least we could try for some happiness before it happened. Pwer says he can institute a Virtual Mode that will enable me to seek her. Perhaps I can bring her here, and if it is suicide she contemplates, she may postpone it while we love. But—”

“But you need a substitute for the post.”

“That is the case. So I come to inquire whether there is anything I can offer you that would incline you to do this for me, and I fear there is not.”

Kublai nodded. “I am in a position to know exactly how much you are asking of me. Not only would I have to resume the burden of Hlahtar, I would have to divorce my lovely love-wife Koren and marry another for other than love. That is not a thing I would do lightly.”

“You would risk much, while I would have no guarantee of accomplishing my mission.”

“You would have no guarantee of surviving yourself!” Kublai said. “I well might be stuck with a full term, until some other prospect matured. That might be a decade!”

“And even if I succeed, and find her, and bring her back here safely, I will not be able to marry her—unless there is someone else to assume the post,” Darius said. “So I can not even promise that your loss would be my gain; probably I would gain less than you lost, even with full success.”

“You are candid.”

“I am desperate. I made a terrible mistake. I will do whatever I must to ameliorate it to the extent I can. Is there a price that will tempt you?”

Kublai was silent. He gazed at Koren. She had of course overheard their conversation, and now stood with tears flowing down her cheeks.

Suddenly Darius understood the significance of those tears. There was a price!

“There is a price,” Kublai agreed gravely.

“Tell me.” He did not want to evince unseemly eagerness, but that was what he felt. At the same time he felt guilty, seeing the dawning misery of Kublai’s wife. This was the classic Hlahtar trade-off: joy for many at the expense of a few. But in this case it was joy for one at the expense of one: not a suitable ratio.

Kublai glanced at Koren. “Come here, my love; this is not the disaster you envision; I am not about to cast you aside. This is something it is best that you also know.”

She went to him and cast herself into his arms, burying her face in his shoulder. He looked at Darius over her shoulder, holding her, stroking her lustrous black hair as he talked.

“When I was young, I encountered a woman. She called herself Prima. I was attracted to her not for her beauty or personality, for she was not remarkable in these respects, but for her ability to multiply. Her power was on a par with my own—”

“With yours?” Darius asked, startled. “But no woman—”

Kublai smiled. “In general, women are not as capable as men in this respect, so that while a man may multiply by a factor of a thousand, a woman may do it by a factor of three. But there is no absolute limitation. It may be that women would be as capable as men, were this encouraged in our culture. Certainly Prima was in this respect. She was fiercely independent and assertive, which of course did not endear her to others. She wanted to be the Cyng of Hlahtar, but of course this was not allowed. When I appeared, she asked me why I should assume the post simply because I was male, my talent being no greater than hers. I had not before considered the matter, but I was persuaded by her, and agreed that it was not right. Indeed, I came to love her, and she loved me, for we were one in our ability.

“We went to the council of Cyngs and asked that she be allowed to assume the post. I agreed to marry her and support her in that post, for my talent feeding into hers would make us the most effective and enduring Hlahtar our Mode has known. But they would not allow a woman to be dominant.

“Then we asked whether we could assume the post as co-equals, taking turns being the lead, one supporting the other. But they would not allow this either. They would allow only my own assumption of the post. I could marry her, but she would be only my wife, supporting me. She would never be Cyng herself.

“Neither of us was willing to do that, at this point. We discussed the matter at length, and finally she decided to explore the realms of the Chips. So the Cyng of Pwer set up what you have termed a Virtual Mode, and she went there to seek some suitable situation. Perhaps there was a realm in which women were equal to men, and she could assume the post there without quarrel, and they would appreciate what she was able to do for them.

“So Prima departed, and I became Hlahtar. We agreed that if she did not find her situation, and returned, she would marry me and accept secondary status. I hoped privately that this would be the case, for I could ask no better support than hers. But she had to do it of her own will.” Kublai paused.

“And she never returned,” Darius said.

“She never returned,” Kublai agreed. “I married ten wives in succession, depleting each, and retired when you appeared. Now I have love, and it is sweet.” He patted Keren’s shoulder. “But always I have wondered what became of Prima. Did she find her situation, or did she die, or is she still searching? My curiosity has become overwhelming. But I lack the incentive to explore the alternate realms myself, now that I have a good life here. So I would ask two things of you: first, that you seek Prima, or news of her, so that I may finally know the truth. If you should find her, and she is ready to return, bring her back. If you did that, I would be happy to maintain the post indefinitely, for with her support it would represent no burden.”

“If you enabled me to search for my love, and bring her back, I would be glad to search also for yours, and bring her back too,” Darius said. “Once I know the way, any who are with me can come along.”

“But you will cast me aside!” Kublai’s wife protested, her voice buried in his shoulder.

“No, my love,” he said reassuringly. “I would have to divorce you and keep you as my love-companion, but that would be little other than a matter of legality. You would remain my love, as you are now. What I felt for Prima has faded in twenty years, and certainly she is no longer young, and never was she winsome. It would be a business relationship, based on my respect for her talent, and the enormous power that talent would provide me. You would remain my love, and you would not be depleted.”

“I still would rather be your wife,” she said.

“The chances are that Darius will return without her,” Kublai said. “Then he will resume the post, and I will remarry you. I think this is a fair gamble.”

“But you mentioned two things you would ask of me,” Darius said. The second was likely to be the crusher.

“The second is both larger and perhaps easier,” Kublai said. “I have developed a curiosity not only about Prima’s situation, but about the alternate realms themselves. I wish to know the nature of ultimate reality. I would ask you to explore these alternate realms, seeking to understand them, and to formulate and test an explanation for the way things are. Who made the Chips and left them here? Who made it possible for Modes to be crossed? Why? I would like, before I die, to have that explanation.”

“But my mind may not be good enough to compass such knowledge,” Darius protested. “I hardly understand the one other Mode I have seen, and I did not understand the nature of the young woman I came to love there.”

“Yet you would make the effort, and tell me all you learn. It might be considerable, and certainly it would be far more than I know now—discovered at no risk to me.”

“But no one has returned!” Darius pointed out. “I may be unable to honor any part of such an agreement.”

“That is why I ask for two favors: the news on Prima, and the nature of the Modes. If I win, I win all that I have wanted to know. If I lose, I am Cyng until another suitable prospect appears. I am experienced; it is not the worst of fates. In fact, I find myself bored with retirement. Oh, not with you, my dear,” he added quickly as his wife lifted her head. “You are my perpetual delight! But the rest of it—there is only so much ease and luxury a man can tolerate. I think I am ready to resume useful activity—and keep my love with me.”

She settled back, mollified.

“I can only agree,” Darius said. “If you will take my place, I will seek what you wish.”

In this manner it was agreed. Darius and Kublai had merged their hopes, and it would be done.

IT took time to set up the Virtual Mode and to arrange for the temporary resumption of the post by Kublai. Darius had to do a tour, for the need was growing. The public had to be served.

But he lacked a wife. He did not want to marry for just one tour, but it would not be wise to deplete himself immediately before embarking on the treacherous journey that was the Virtual Mode. What was he to do?

Kublai came up with the answer. “Borrow Koren.”

“What?”

“My wife Koren. She has it in her pretty head that she wants to remain married to me, even as I resume the post. This is foolish.”

“Of course it is! But—”

“I need to persuade her to step down, and to allow me to marry a woman suitable for that office. But I do not wish to hurt or offend her. However, if she went with you on the tour, she would quickly learn the cost, and I think that would be more persuasive than anything I could say.”

“Surely it would!” Darius agreed. “But the intimacy of the borrowing—”

“I would rather have you do it, than do it to her myself. I prefer to convince her without instituting that barrier between us.”

“But she is your wife!” Darius said, at a loss.

“Who has never felt my power. Let her feel yours. By the time the tour is done, she will have had enough.”

The man did know what he was suggesting. Reluctantly Darius agreed.

So it was that Koren came to his castle as ad-hoc wife. She made it quite plain that there was no private aspect to the relationship. She was here because Kublai had asked her to be, and she was certain that her mind would be changed not one iota by this experience. She expected to prove herself to her husband.

“I understand your reticence,” Darius said. “I will honor your privacy in all things, but when the time of multiplication comes, I shall have to embrace you closely and publicly. You will find it a unique experience.”

“I doubt it,” she said coldly. “If you touch me anywhere else, I will slap you.”

Yes, she did not understand. She would learn a great deal in the next day.

Sexual energy was part of what enabled multiplication, and it was customary for the Cyng to indulge in it with his wife the night before a tour. This was out of the question with Koren, but he did need to do it with someone. If only Colene had returned with him! If only he had understood all of what was at stake, and had insisted that she come here!

So that night he used a device that he feared would shame him if he thought about it: he closed his eyes and visualized Ella as Colene. Then he was most passionate with her. She was quite pleased.

IN the morning they set out on the tour. Darius, Koren, a comedian, a props man, and the castle’s regular conjurer stepped onto a large disk, and the conjurer lifted a small disk containing a hair from each of them and activated it. They moved upward as the miniature disk did, floating from the castle court until they were high above the dais. Then the conjurer moved the little disk south toward the model of a castle, and the big disk zoomed in that direction.

It was routine, but Darius’ awareness of the other Mode remained, and he continued to appreciate how novel this would seem to Colene. She had told him that her people had huge flying machines, but she didn’t believe in magic, so this flying disk would surprise her. Also, the landscape below was beautiful. The rugged crevices of the land formed patterns of ridges, their crystals scintillating, so that it was possible to see circles, triangles, squares, pentagons, and hexagons forming and dissipating as they moved across. Some crystals sent up beams of reflected light that formed three-dimensional figures, the green beams intersecting the red beams and yellow beams, the whole being bathed by diffused light from other crystals. It might be impossible to walk across such terrain, but it was lovely to float across.

The sky, too, was a continuing pleasure. They floated around, above and below the colored clouds, swerving as necessary, and these too were beautiful. Some had patterns on their surfaces, projected from the crystals, and the patterns changed as the perspective did. Yes, Colene would love this, and he would do his best to bring her here and show it to her. If only he had thought it properly through before, and brought her with him despite her nature and her doubt!

Then they came into sight of a village dais, much larger than those for the castles or solitary trees. Here there were thousands of villagers, and around it were the lesser platforms where gardens flourished. At such enclaves the fundamental supplies of the realm were grown and made. A potato, for example, did not just appear when conjured; it was grown and saved, and so was ready for conjuration at need. The children of Cyngs sometimes believed that food came into existence when summoned, but the children of peasants well understood the labors of production.

At locations like these the animals were also raised: cows to produce milk, chickens to produce eggs, and so on. There were grazing daises, and sections where the crystals of the nether terrain were less prominent, so that vegetation could grow and creatures could forage. But people had to watch over these animals, and keep them safe from predators. There were also artisans of many types: woodworkers, metalworkers, stoneworkers, clothworkers, and on. All laboring patiently for their sustenance. No, nothing was free; at every stage there had to be the hands of dedicated men and women. Without such workers, the fine society of mankind would not be possible.

These were the folk who needed joy, for their lives did not provide great amounts of it naturally. Each Cyng was granted a good life, but each Cyng repaid it with the unique service which was the specialty of his post. Thus the society was interactive, but the lives of Cyngs were better than most.

Their disk landed. Immediately, the group stepped off and proceeded to the setting up. Soon there was a little stage, and the villagers were seated around it in concentric circular rows. The whole village assembled; every member of it was eager for joy.

The comedian took a prop and went into his act. He pranced, he twirled, he made grotesque faces. The villagers watched passively. They were not much entertained. This was exactly according to expectation; had they reacted positively, it would have been an indication that their need was not sufficient to warrant this presentation.

Then Darius stepped to the center of the stage. There was a hush of expectation. He turned and gestured to Koren.

The woman came up on the stage. No one introduced her; the villagers were allowed to assume that she was his wife. The wives of Cyngs of Hlahtar changed often, so her newness here did not excite suspicion. She was young, she was beautiful, and she came when called: that was evidence enough.

Koren came to stand immediately before Darius. She was in a glossy black dress that matched her hair, so that it was hard to tell where one left off and the other began. The upper portion flared so as to conceal the shape of her bosom, and the nether portion spread out similarly to hide her legs, in the decorous manner, but it was not possible to completely mask her beauty.

Darius embraced her. He drew her in very close, so that the full length of her body was tight against his own. She was stiff, not liking this, thinking that he was being too familiar. She averted her face, and kept her arms immobile at her sides. But only with close contact could he exert his power efficiently; the effect diminished with distance, causing needless waste.

Then he drew from her. Her vitality came into his body, measure by measure in its measureless fashion, strengthening him while depleting her. It was not a large transfer, but it was significant.

She stood without moving, evidently uncertain what she was experiencing. Then she tried to struggle, but her determination was weak, being the first thing tapped. Her head snapped around; her eyes came to stare into his with the wonder and horror of a captive animal. She would have felt better giving a quantity of the blood of her body. She sank into herself, her vitality waning. She was helpless. Left to her own devices at this moment, she would soon lie down and die, having no further joy of life. She was depleted.

Darius let her go, and turned. He was flush with Keren’s joy, taken from her. Then he fed it out to the multitude. It magnified enormously as it extended from him and bathed every seated peasant. Every man, woman, and child received almost as much joy as Koren had lost.

Koren herself received a similar amount, for she was now among the recipients. But her joy was less than it had been, by that small margin, for the multiplying was like the level of water: it might spread to many, but would never exceed the level of its source. She had lost most of her joy, and had most of that loss restored, but that remaining level was lower. Only time would make up that small loss, and she would lose more before she could get that time.

The comedian stepped out again, capering, and now the peasants laughed. Their joy had been lifted to a height not recently experienced. Now they were well satisfied with their lot, and ready to enjoy the festivities.

Darius waved to them, and they cheered him lustily. Then he took Koren by the hand and led her to the traveling disk. She came without resistance, shaken by her recent experience. Her level of joy was now the same as that of the peasants, but to her it seemed inadequate. She had known better; they had not. She had also suffered the shock of sudden depletion, as they had not; their depletion was gradual, as they went about their dull business. She had perspective.

The party gathered on the disk, and the conjurer lifted it, using his small icon-disk. The power for this came from the Cyng of Pwer, who drew it from the Modes and sent it out to be used as needed. The magic was used only to control it; the power itself was physical, like the things grown and made by the peasants.

They floated to the next village, where they repeated the process. This time Koren was not stiff but was afraid when he embraced her, and familiarity did not seem to make her more comfortable with the process. She looked less beautiful than before, even when most of her joy had been restored. Something new and awful had been introduced to her experience. She was coming to understand why her husband believed that love and marriage were incompatible, with a Cyng of Hlahtar.

They served ten villages on this tour, catching up on those that most needed joy. In a few days there would be another tour, to other villages. The process was continuous, for by the time every village had been served, the first village needed to be served again. The break Darius had taken had allowed many villages to get behind, and a faster schedule would be necessary to restore them.

At last they floated home. Now Darius spoke to Koren. “This is what your husband seeks to spare you. You have lost only about a tenth of your joy this day, but before you can recover that, there will be another tour, and another. In two years, perhaps less, you will be depleted to the extent that it is no longer safe to draw from you, and you will have to be set aside for a fresher woman. Of course I hope to return long before that time, and resume the post. But your love will be better if you become his love-servant instead, for that period.”

She stared back at him with hopeless hate. Yes, now she understood. How much better for her to hate Darius than to hate her husband!

His thoughts turned to Colene. She, too, did not understand. She thought love could conquer all. She had been angry when he saw the impossibility of marrying her. Had the transfer of joy been possible in her Mode, he could have demonstrated; then she would have known. As Koren now knew.

THE Chip was ready. It would institute the Virtual Mode. “Now you must understand the deviousness of this process,” the Cyng of Pwer said. “It seems that we are sending out several lines of force, and that those lines will anchor in several other Modes, and fix in place the Virtual Mode. One anchor is here, and another should be at the site of the girl you encountered—but only if she catches onto it. If she does not, some other person may do so, fixing the Mode, but your girl will not be in that Mode.”

“Colene may not be there?” Darius asked, appalled.

“We can send the line past her, but we can not make her take it. You can judge better than I how likely she is to take it.”

“She has to take it!” But there was a troubling doubt there.

“And if she does take it, that anchors only two points. Three more are required, because—”

“Because it takes five points to fix a four-dimensional Mode,” Darius said.

“Ah, I see you understand! But we have no control at all over those remaining three. They can be anywhere, and the Virtual Mode may be strange indeed.”

“At least they will all be human.”

Pwer frowned. “Not necessarily. I have made the setting sapience rather than humanity. Humanity can include anything from our level to complete primitives. With sapience, at least there will in all cases be minds to which you can relate. We hope they will be human.”

Darius hoped so too! “I am ready,” he said. He had a new pack of supplies, and this time he had something he had not thought to take before: a weapon. It was a primitive sword, which did not require any spell for its effect. It had a sharp point and a sharp edge. He was not proficient in its use, but was satisfied that it would be effective against either animals or unarmed attackers, such as the young men who had attacked him without provocation in Colene’s Mode. He also had primitive tools for cutting wood, breaking stone, or making fire. In fact, he had the little box of “matches” Colene had given him. One thing he had learned: not to depend on magic in that realm!

“I hope to return soon,” he said. “But if I do not, I thank you for enabling me to make this quest.”

“This time I can not bring you back by orienting on a signal key,” Pwer reminded him grimly. “You must return by yourself. If you do not return soon, you will gradually lose contact, until finally you will be unable. Do not leave any of your things behind; only you can carry them across the boundaries of the Modes. The Virtual Mode will remain anchored until you come here and touch the anchor place and will it to let go. The Mode exists on its own; we are merely catching an aspect of it and fixing it in place for a time.”

“Fix it now,” Darius said, stepping into the marked circle. Pwer was full of cautions, but not all of what he said was believable.

The Cyng of Pwer nodded. He lifted his hand, invoking the necessary spell.

Something changed.