Xone of Contention Read online

  Edsel realized that Breanna was a creature of dreams. But her enthusiasm was contagious. “I’d like that. But I don’t see how.”

  “I just got this wonderful wild notion. Here we are talking in the Interface. If we could stretch it a little farther, and exchange places, then maybe you’d be in Xanth and I’d be in Mundania. I wouldn’t mind visiting it, though I sure wouldn’t want to stay.” Then she reconsidered. “Well, maybe not you and me changing places, exactly. Maybe I could switch with your wife, and you could switch with my boyfriend Justin.”

  “Justin?”

  “Justin Tree. He used to be a tree—well, he was a man first, then a tree, then we met, and now we’re betrothed but we can’t marry because I’m too young. We can’t even smooch much, because I’m not supposed to know the Adult Conspiracy. I hate that! I mean, what’s the point in making him convert early to a young man—he took some youth elixir—if we can’t do anything? It’s driving me crazy.”

  “I think I know the feeling,” Edsel said, though he hardly understood all of what she was saying.

  “So maybe if Justin and I could switch with you folk, and get into Mundania for a while, where there’s not much enforcement of the Conspiracy, we could at least go from necking to petting. And you folk could do whatever you wanted, in Xanth, and your marriage wouldn’t be in trouble, because marriages never are.”

  This was surely sheer foolishness, but it was wickedly tempting. “I’d do it, if there were a way.”

  “I’m thinking there could be a way. With the right connection. If nobody objected.” She cocked her head. “Do you think sixteen is too young?”

  He knew what was on her mind. “I was sixteen when I got together with Pia, and she was fifteen. A girl can be pretty mature at fifteen, and moreso thereafter.”

  “For sure!” she agreed happily. “And Justin’s not young at all. He’s about ninety nine, I think.”

  He thought he had misheard. “Nineteen?”

  “Ninety nine,” she said carefully. “But he was a tree most of that time. I told you. But now he’s been youthened to nineteen, so he’ll be twenty one when I’m eighteen. We think that’s about right. But he’s got these grandfatherly reservations about things. You know, about touching girls. I figure if I can just get him safely alone for a week or so, I can bash down those barriers.” She glanced at him again. “Do you think so?”

  “Uh, that depends. If—”

  “Oh, right, you can’t see the rest of me. Well, it’s proportional. Especially when I take off my clothes.”

  She did have adult notions. As Pia had had, at that age. “Then if he’s got the body of a nineteen year old male, and you’re sixteen, and proportional, you should be able to handle him in about three minutes.”

  She laughed. “Yeah. That’s what I figure. When I get the chance. Anyway, here’s how: physical travel between Xanth and Mundania is difficult, unless you have a special pass. Oh, I mean you can do it, but you’re liable to come out in some other time or place and be lost. But exchanging bodies—I think that’s feasible.”

  “Exchanging bodies?” he asked somewhat blankly.

  “You’re a bit slow on the uptake, aren’t you,” she remarked without rancor. “If I switch with your wife, and you switch with Justin, then the two of you would be in Xanth. You’d be in our bodies, but you’d still be you. And you could do what you wanted to. So could we.”

  “Oh. Yes. That could be interesting.” In fact, as he considered it, it seemed more than interesting. If he could embrace Breanna, knowing it was really Pia, so he wasn’t being unfaithful … ∞ His thought trailed into an ellipsis with a potentially infinite number of dots. Some of them were white dots, like Pia; some were brown, like Breanna.

  “So let’s see about it. We’ll need some magic to handle it, but I think I know whom to check with. I’ll have to go out of the O-Xone a moment, though.”

  “What does the O stand for?”

  “Other, I think. Because it’s neither here nor there. It’s the interface between Xanth and Mundania, a halfway zone. I’m on duty because I remember some about Mundania, so can help folk like you, though we haven’t been set up long and you’re the first, and you’re not even a Character.”

  “A what?”

  “A Character. Xanth folk come here to the O-Xone and pretend to be Mundanes, and I guess Mundanes try to pretend to be Xanthians, mostly in their X-Xone, and maybe soon they can meet halfway. When we get it organized. Sean’s working on it.”

  “Who?”

  “Sean Baldwin. He’s Mundane, but he’s with Willow, who’s Xanthian. She’s a winged elf, actually. Sometimes he has to stay in Mundania, and she has to stay in Xanth, so they can’t be together all the time, so they want a connection, and maybe this will be it.”

  Breanna tended to provide more information than he could assimilate immediately, but it did help some. He returned to basics. “This business of exchanging bodies—I’m still not sure exactly how that works.”

  “Yeah, I guess you ought to try it. Maybe you should step into a picture.”

  “Do what?”

  “Just walk on down to one of the scenes, and think yourself into it, and you’ll get a sample. That’s part of what the O-Xone is all about: sampling the other side. It’ll give you a feel for it, though it’s really illusion.”

  “Illusion?”

  She frowned. “You are slow. Here in the O-Xone the magic’s not complete, and illusion’s cheap, so we use it a lot. I’ve got to go check with Nimby, so you take a break in a picture, and we’ll meet here again when we’re both done. Okay?”

  “Uh, okay,” he agreed.

  The picture lost animation. It was just a picture, again instead of a video.

  He turned and walked on down the hall, looking at the other pictures. They were of various fantasy scenes, each painted on a large leaf. One was a fancy castle, with a moat around it and fruit trees beside it, labeled CASTLE ROOGNA. Another was a monstrous gulf, labeled GAP CHASM. Another was a group of centaurs. That made him pause. The males were muscular in their human aspects, with large bows slung across their backs, while the females were—extremely well endowed. They wore no clothing on their bodies, not even halters. Fascinating! But he wasn’t ready to tackle anything like that, so he moved on until he came to a scene of a deep, quiet forest. There was a squirrel in the foreground, ordinary except for one thing: it had wings. A flying squirrel, of course.

  That should do. But how did he get into that body, even in illusion? There didn’t seem to be any instructions. Breanna had assumed he knew how, forgetting how “slow” he was about such things. Think himself into it, as she had suggested?

  “I am a squirrel,” he said tentatively. Nothing happened. “A winged squirrel.” Still nothing.

  He stared into the picture, pondering. Did he need to hum-whistle to invoke the magic? He tried that, and the picture seemed to shimmer and expand, but he still wasn’t in it. The winged squirrel was still there, with a dark trail wending into the background.

  Then, irrelevantly, he remembered a song. It was about a young man who faced a difficult trip through a forest, yet he anticipated it with joy. He began to hum it, thinking the words. “Though the path is long and dark, rocky steep and narrow/Though the wood is dark and cold, this brings me no sorrow.” Because in that woodland lived his darling loved one. Edsel was married, but he still liked romantic situations. He pictured Pia in that wood, as lovely as she had been at sixteen.

  Then he was in the scene. The forest was suddenly huge around him. He took a step, faltered, and spread his wings for balance. He was the flying squirrel! Could he really fly? It seemed worth a try.

  He faced in the direction of a glade, spread his wings, ran on his hind feet, flapped—and was airborne! He pumped his wings frantically, trying to maintain balance while gaining elevation, but overdid it and stalled out. He dropped, landing on his tail. No damage done, fortunately.

  But his clumsy effort had attracted attention.
Suddenly a monstrous shape was entering the glade. It was a fire-breathing dragon!

  Edsel panicked. He got all four feet under him, folded his wings, and scooted for the nearest underbrush. A jet of flame passed over his head, and he realized that the dragon had expected him to take flight, so had aimed high. But because he was really a land-bound creature, he had stayed on land—and maybe saved himself a frying.

  However, the dragon wasn’t through. It was reorienting, and this time it wouldn’t miss. Brush would not protect him from that flamethrower. Edsel scrambled for the nearest tree, getting behind it just as the flame set the brush on fire.

  How could he escape? He peered up the trunk of the tree. The top seemed worlds away, and he didn’t trust his claws to hold on, for all that he was a squirrel. The dragon could toast him long before he got out of range. He heard the ground shaking is it tramped toward the tree.

  He would have to make a break for it on the ground. Maybe if he ran toward the dragon, that would surprise it, and he could get by it and beyond it before it could turn around. Then maybe he could find a hole in the ground or something.

  A giant foot crashed down on one side of the tree. Edsel turned to the other side—and there was the dragon’s awful snoot. He was trapped before he even got started.

  “I want out of here!” he cried. And there he was back in the hall, standing before the picture, which now showed a dragon crouching by a tree. His heart was pounding. That had been one close escape.

  If this was illusion, he wasn’t sure he would care to try the reality. He’d better tell Breanna the deal was off. He walked down the hall toward her Leaf.

  Then, bothered by something, he turned back to the picture. The dragon was now looking around, evidently having lost the squirrel. That was what Edsel had wanted to know: that the squirrel had escaped. He had not led it into a frying or chomping. He turned away again, relieved.

  As he approached the Leaf, it came to life. “Oh, there you are,” Breanna’s face said. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “Not exactly,” he said, abashed.

  “I thought maybe you’d try the one with the mermaids in the pool. I hear they can be very friendly with human visitors.”

  “I didn’t see that one,” he said, with real regret. He could have entered a scene with friendly mermaids? He had heard it said that a mermaid had all the good parts of a woman, and none of the bad parts. As if there were any bad parts.

  “Or maybe the one showing the Faun & Nymph Retreat. Naturally I’m not supposed to know how they celebrate all day, being underage, but I have a suspicion you’d find it interesting.”

  More than a suspicion, he was sure. He really should have checked out all the pictures before choosing one. “No, I got into one with a flying squirrel.”

  “That one? I hope you watched out for the dragon.”

  “I did run afoul of the dragon. It almost got me. A couple of those fire jets just missed me.”

  “Yeah, it’s enchanted to just barely miss each time. To make it seem realistic. Even if the dragon scored on you, it couldn’t hurt you, because it’s illusion. A score that didn’t work would ruin the effect, but a near miss can be scary.”

  “Yes.” So he had been taken in by illusion, when there was no danger. That gave him new respect for illusion.

  “ ’Sokay. I checked with Chlorine, and she says it’s fine, except that I can’t go to Mundania.”

  “You can’t? But that’s not fine, because you wanted to visit there, with Justin to—you know.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. Really. Because I’m getting something better. I’ll get to be your Companion in Xanth. And maybe, if there’s some slack time, like camping overnight, if I try to stretch the Adult Conspiracy a little—

  “I won’t even notice,” Edsel said quickly. “Or tell. It’s your business, nobody else’s.”

  “Yeah,” she said gratefully. “Chlorine understands, too. She used to be plain, before things changed.”

  “Chlorine? Where I come from, we put that in water.”

  “You aren’t where you come from,” she said with half a smile. “You’ll meet Nimby and Chlorine tomorrow. But there’s more: they’re going to visit Mundania, by switching bodies with you. They’ll need Companions too, to show them around, because Mundania can be just as dangerous as Xanth for strangers. So can you dig up a reliable pair of Mundane Companions?”

  “Mundane Companions? I suppose we could ask Dug and Kim—”

  “Great! Bring them here this time tomorrow, and your wife, and I’ll bring Nimby and Chlorine, and Justin, and we can work it all out. This should be a great adventure.”

  Just like that? But of course Dug and Kim had had experience in Xanth, so should have good advice. What Pia would think of this he wasn’t sure. But it was worth a try. “I’ll do that,” he said.

  “Great!” Breanna repeated. “See you tomorrow.” Her picture reverted.

  Bemused, Edsel faced the O-Xone exit and walked. As he came to the marked portal, he saw it was a wall. He did his hum-whistle, and suddenly he was out. He could tell, because he was looking at a monitor screen with a cursor blinking in front of him. The hall with pictures was gone.

  He exited the Mesh, and then the GigaGrid. He had some talking to do, to several people.

  First, Pia. She was every bit as understanding as usual. “Have you been doing drugs?”

  “No,” he said patiently. “This is a Mesh interface. And maybe a chance for us to get into Xanth for a visit. The way Dug and Kim do.”

  “Just because they’re crazy enough to believe in fantasy is no reason we have to,” she retorted. “How could you fall for such a line of crap?”

  “Pia, please. I thought it would be good for our relationship. To have a break. A vacation in a magic land. Maybe we could mend fences, or something.”

  “As if you even care!” she said witheringly.

  “I do care. I—I’m sorry that things are going wrong.”

  “Maybe they’re going right. Did you ever think of that?”

  “Going right?” he asked blankly.

  “Maybe it was a mistake, us getting married. Maybe now we’re finally catching on. Maybe we’re getting ready to set things right.”

  “I don’t understand.” But he feared he did.

  She softened. “Ed, some marriages aren’t meant to be. I think we should consider divorce.”

  He was stunned. She had said the D word. He had thought she was going to recommend counseling. “I—I don’t want that.”

  “But maybe it’s best. To recognize the situation, and take appropriate action. There should be less pain that way.”

  She was serious. She must have considered this pretty carefully, and that knocked his world for a loop. But what could he do?

  He decided to go for double or nothing. “How about this: let’s make a deal. You give this fantasy visit an honest try, and if it doesn’t work, then I’ll—I’ll not oppose a divorce. If that’s what you want.”

  She eyed him appraisingly. “You won’t fight it?”

  “I won’t fight it. Though I don’t want it. I’d rather make love than war, anytime. But I’ll go along with it. If that’s the way you feel.”

  She nodded. “Deal.” She extended her hand.

  “Deal,” he agreed, shaking her hand.

  Edsel called Dug immediately. Dug and Kim lived within a mile, and the two couples often visited each other socially as well as for business reasons.

  Kim answered the phone. “Yes?” she inquired politely. She had a nice voice.

  “Edsel. We—could we come over? Now? There’s something we need to discuss.”

  “Of course. I’ll tell Dug.” Her tone indicated that she realized that this was not routine.

  Dug wheeled out the Lemon, and Pia climbed on behind him, putting her arms around his waist. He had always liked riding with her, feeling her thighs against his hips, her bosom against his back. Her body wasn’t quite as good as it had been
, but still appealed to him. He wondered how he had changed to turn her off, or whether she just had a short romantic attention span.

  He started the machine, and the engine came alive. It skipped a little, then settled down. He still hadn’t fixed the problem, but it was marginal rather than serious, so far. He guided the Lemon out into traffic. Two things he loved: the motorcycle and his wife. Now the one was weakening, and so was the other. But the game wasn’t over; maybe he could save both.

  “You should have dumped this junk long ago,” Pia muttered. “For a decent car.”

  “But I thought you liked my bike,” he protested.

  “Times change.”

  Painful truth. Her feeling had changed, for the motorcycle and for the man. If only he knew why!

  Actually, he feared he did know why: because Pia was as shallow as she was lovely, perhaps incapable of a meaningful long-term relationship. She had always used her looks to get by, and never developed a serious unselfish commitment to anything. Yet he remained smitten. What he truly wanted was perhaps not even theoretically achievable: the looks of Pia as she had been at age sixteen, and the character of Kim. Or at least Pia’s present appearance, and an uplifting long term goal. Something she truly believed in, that didn’t directly benefit herself.

  They pulled into Dug and Kim’s drive and parked. Pia got off, but didn’t go to the house. She was waiting on Edsel, not from courtesy so much as an indication that this was his stupid notion to present to the other couple.

  Kim opened the door. She was tall and lean, in jeans, and her face was garden variety, but she had a contagious enthusiasm for things. She had short curly light brown hair and blue eyes. Edsel wondered for the nth time what Dug saw in her, for Dug had always been just as fascinated by sexy women as Edsel was. She had been a string bean at sixteen, and remained one at twenty three. Pia, in contrast, had lustrous long dark brown hair, sexy green eyes, a cute heart shaped face, and a figure that remained not far short of great. There simply was no comparison between them. Yet Dug plainly doted on Kim. Ever since she kissed him, he said. As if that made sense.