Xone of Contention Read online

  Edsel was satisfied. “It works for me.” He looked at Pia. “You?”

  “Yes,” she agreed faintly. Not much impressed Pia, but this session evidently had.

  “Good enough,” Breanna said briskly. “Let’s take a week to set things up, and meet here again, when the four of you will exchange, and the four of us—” she glanced at Justin, Dug, and Kim”—will be your Companions, to keep you out of mischief. We’ll have to organize special tours, so as to get the most out of it. Okay?” She looked around.

  “Okay,” Edsel said, feeling exhilarated. If a tour in magic Xanth didn’t change Pia’s mind, nothing would.

  “Okay,” Kim said.

  “Of course,” Chlorine said.

  Then the scene dissolved, and the four of them from Mundania were standing at the O-Xone exit. Edsel hum-whistled, and they were back on their linked computers. Back in Mundania. Already it seemed dreary.

  2

  COMPANION

  Pia had to admit that Edsel had come up with something interesting. She had been finding him increasingly boring, and marriage itself boring, but the magic Land of Xanth was interesting. She had privately envied Dug and Kim’s ability to believe in it, and to submerge themselves in mutual fantasy. Maybe that was what made them get along so well: there was magic in their relationship.

  Pia herself hardly believed in magic. But that demonstration in the O-Xone had satisfied her that there was something there. Maybe not magic, but one hell of a good show, like the effects of a stage magician. You could enjoy it even when you knew it was all trickery.

  Best of all, if it turned out disappointing, it still committed Edsel to dissolving the marriage without a fight. That would make it much easier to recover her freedom. Edsel wasn’t a bad sort, really, but if you took away that motorcycle, and his software, and his supposed humor, very little was left. She wanted excitement, novelty, fresh romance, and endless indulgence. Dug had come to bore her, years ago, and Edsel had seemed to be an escape from that, but Edsel had turned out just about as boring. While Dug, ironically, had grown more interesting after he got together with Kim. Maybe he had been about to turn the corner, and she had left him at just the wrong time.

  But she would give this fantasy adventure a fair trial. She wasn’t sure why Edsel thought it might change her opinion of their marriage, but that was his problem. She preferred to get free of him without suffering an ugly scene, and this was the way. Share the adventure, return, go their separate ways. It was a straightforward course, and a good one.

  Now if only she could be as readily free of her diabetes. She had long since learned to give herself insulin shots; they really didn’t hurt any more, and twice a day was enough. The blood sugar level checks were mere pinpricks, a nuisance, but again, routine. So apart from a certain caution about her diet, she could mostly ignore it. But she would rather be free of it. For one thing, it was likely to complicate things if she ever decided to have children, not that she expected to. Children were such demanding nuisances.

  On the appointed day, their business in temporary remission, they sat at their computers again and connected via their modems to the Mode M Mesh. The three others were so enthusiastic that Pia found herself reluctantly carried along. Dug and Kim swore that there was no better land than Xanth, as long as a person was careful about dragons and such. Edsel—he seemed a bit much taken with that black girl, what’s-her-name, with her lustrous waist length black hair, green eyes, and pert figure. As if Pia herself didn’t have those same things, except that her hair was brown. Well, Pia’s figure had filled out some in the past few years. She had to use a corset when wearing a show dress. She hated that, but she loved chocolate, and the two sort of went together. Her malady also tended to add to her weight, because she was constantly balancing sugar against insulin, and it was easier to eat a bit of sugar than to cancel a shot she had just taken. If she anticipated needing less insulin, then she could cut down, but life was full of ugly little surprises. So she was fighting a losing battle of bulge. Edsel hadn’t commented, but she could no longer bend him to her. whim as readily as she once had, and she figured this was why. Of course there was an age difference between the black girl and Pia, sixteen vs. twenty two, and she remembered how well Edsel had liked that age. Wait till time had its way with the girl, then see how pert she remained. But what was her concern? That girl was otherwise committed, and in a fantasy land, and if Edsel strayed—well, that would make the divorce that much easier.

  They reached the O-Xone interface, and Edsel whistled them in. Pia had to admit it was a nice effect, the way it went 3D, making them seem to be standing in a hall. They ought to learn the secret, so they could incorporate it into the Companions software; it would sell a million. Assuming there still was a business, after the divorce.

  They walked down the hall and entered the girl’s chamber. Breanna—that was her name. Of the Black Wave, as if anyone could doubt her color. But she seemed nice enough, and they’d better get along, because there really were dragons in Xanth, and Pia had no idea how to avoid them.

  Justin was there, as quiet as before. Then the gaudy dragon man and splashy damsel arrived. The odd thing was that the room didn’t seem at all crowded, even with eight people.

  “Some things we need to clarify,” the damsel said. Chlorine—that was her name, like a chemical treatment—was taking charge, in her pushy manner, as she had before. “We shall need to remain in touch, in case it should prove necessary to end the exchange early. So we must report to this O-Xone each day.” She glanced around, but nobody disagreed. “And though Nimby and I will not have magic in Mundania, the two of you will have talents in Xanth. We want you to have useful ones, that will help you get along without being so strong as to attract undue attention. So you, Edsel, will have the ability to create solid illusionary creatures. And you, Pia, will be able to see one day into the future. That should help you avoid problems, as you will be able to change that future by changing your immediate actions.”

  She would have a magic talent? This was becoming increasingly interesting. She would have to experiment, to be sure she know how to use it.

  “Now let’s make the exchange,” Chlorine said. As she spoke, she and Nimby changed form, becoming exactly like Pia and Edsel. “Take our hands.”

  They held hands, then separated. That was all.

  “So when do we change?” Pia asked, not really trying to mask her impatience with this ritual.

  There was laughter, which she didn’t appreciate. “Uh, I think we are changed,” Edsel murmured beside her. “We’re on the other side of the room.”

  She saw that they were facing Dug and Kim, though she was not aware of turning around. Beside them were Justin and Breanna. “But we’re the same,” she protested.

  “I’m not sure. I feel better than I did, somehow.”

  “We provided you with bodies in perfect health,” the other Pia said. “Except for your malady, of course.”

  Pia suppressed her irritation. Since this was really illusion, they couldn’t cure the incurable. She checked her purse: her insulin kit was still there. So she was in her own body. Yet she did feel better. She had a recent scratch on her left foot that itched; it no longer did. She had meant to wash her hair, as it had started to feel grungy, but had forgotten in the distraction of getting ready; it now felt fine. Surely her imagination, yet enough to make her wonder at the power of suggestion.

  “This way,” Breanna said, turning to the door opposite the one they had entered by.

  Edsel and Justin followed, so Pia had to go too. But she wasn’t easy with this. Could this all be a fancy joke? Yet what was there to do except play along until it ended?

  Breanna turned her head back. “See you here tomorrow for check-in!” she called.

  “Got it,” Kim called back from the far doorway.

  Then they were on their way down a hall. As they proceeded, it gradually lost its square outline, becoming rounded. Soon it resembled a natural cave tunnel. W
hat was the point? To show off the morphing abilities of the program?

  The tunnel opened into a regular cave. There was a stream running through it, and a sweetness wafted from the water. Pia sniffed, trying to identify the tantalizing fragrance, and felt distinctly strange.

  “Don’t breathe too much of that,” Breanna warned. “It’s from a love spring.”

  Definitely a joke. But Pia stifled her breathing. She didn’t know what the consequence of imbibing from a love spring would be, but doubted she would care for it.

  They came to a metallic or ceramic or plastic contraption with a glassy screen.

  Welcome, Visitors

  “Hi, Passion,” Breanna said brightly. “These are Edsel and Pia Mundane.”

  “Pia Putz,” Pia corrected her, using her maiden name. “And my business associate, Edsel.”

  Edsel glanced at her, but did not challenge her statement. She was choosing to be herself on this excursion, not someone’s disenchanted wife.

  How very nice, the screen printed.

  “And this is Com Passion,” Breanna continued. “She is our interface connection to the O-Xone. And her mouse, Terian.”

  A lovely, sultry woman emerged from the shadow. She nodded, then faded back into obscurity.

  “Looks human to me,” Pia remarked.

  Terian stepped forward again. She shimmered, and suddenly was a brown mouse.

  “Eeeek!” Pia screamed, jumping back.

  “What’s the matter with a mouse?” Breanna asked.

  “It might run up my leg!”

  The mouse became the woman, who retreated again. Pia realized that she had made a fool of herself. She hoped she wasn’t flushing.

  Would you like to play some solitaire?

  “We can’t right now,” Breanna said. “We have to go out and see

  Xanth.”

  Do return soon

  “In a day, Passion.” Breanna promised. “Thank you so much for helping.”

  ♥♥♥♥♥♥ That was evidently the machine’s way of expressing appreciation.

  They stepped out into daylight. The sun was shining down on a thickly forested landscape. A pleasant path led away from the cave.

  “First thing to remember,” Breanna said. “When in doubt, stay on the path. It’s enchanted, so that no harm can come to you on it, and it goes where you want to go.”

  “Suppose a person needs to—to do something private?” Pia asked. She wasn’t sure how natural functions would be handled if they didn’t take occasional breaks from the program. Her real-life body couldn’t sit in front of a screen forever, no matter how realistic the effects.

  “There are places along the path,” Breanna said. “There’s one now.” She indicated a side path. “Want to see?”

  “Yes.” Actually it was about time for her afternoon shot.

  “Okay.” Breanna led the way down the offshoot, while Justin and Edsel waited on the main path.

  Behind a barrier of bushes was an outhouse with a crescent moon painted on the door. Pia approached it and tried to open the door, but her hand passed right through the wood.

  “It’s illusion,” Breanna explained. “Just walk through it.”

  Pia tried it. She passed through the wood and found herself in a surprisingly modern bathroom. How much of this was illusion?

  She felt the toilet seat. Sure enough, it was a mere board with a hole in it, under the illusion. Well, that would do.

  She took out her kit and pricked her finger, checking her blood level of sugar. Then she prepared a shot. She untucked her blouse and swabbed the fat of her hip. She always injected in the same place, and was almost immune to pain there. The shot took only a moment. Then she tucked herself back together, and put away the kit. She should be okay until morning, if she didn’t overexert herself.

  Breanna didn’t inquire; she surely thought Pia had been attending to different matters. They returned to the main path, where the men stood.

  A ghost loomed up before them. “Booo!” it cried.

  Pia stifled a scream and stepped back, but Breanna was unimpressed. “You’re practicing your talent,” she said.

  “To make solid illusionary creatures,” Edsel agreed. “Justin reminded me. We need to get a handle on our talents, so we won’t flounder when we need them.”

  The ghost hovered, now properly harmless.

  Pia concealed her annoyance at being frightened. “I thought a ghost wasn’t solid.”

  “This one is,” Edsel said. “I can’t make a real ghost, but this is a fake ghost. Go ahead, touch it.”

  Breanna reached out and caught hold of the ghost’s substance. “Sheet,” she said.

  “Can you use such language in Xanth?” Edsel inquired innocently.

  Pia was disgusted. Him and his juvenile sense of humor.

  Justin looked blank, but Breanna almost let half a smile escape. “You can when it’s a bed sheet.” She yanked, and the ghost lurched forward. “OoOo!” it complained.

  Pia touched the sheet. It was indeed solid. She lifted it up and peeked under. There was nothing; it was just material shaped over air.

  The sheet dissipated, and the ghost was gone. “I like it,” Edsel said.

  “You should check yours,” Breanna told Pia.

  “I thought she just did,” Edsel said, with that feigned innocence again.

  “Will you stop that!” Pia snapped.

  “Did he do something?” Justin asked, perplexed.

  “You were a tree too long, dear,” Breanna said fondly.

  “Indubitably. But—”

  “First he implied that a word I said almost sounded bad, though it wasn’t,” she explained. “Then he made a comment that was similar.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Pia realized that the man really had been out of touch too long; he was truly innocent about some things. She liked that.

  “I was suggesting to Pia that she should check her talent,” Breanna said to Justin. “Edsel pretended that I was suggesting that she check her state of—of digestion.”

  “Digestion?”

  “Girls aren’t supposed to have digestion.”

  “Oh.” He remained blank.

  “You have a long row to hoe,” Edsel said to Breanna.

  “I’ll get there,” the girl said. “Now about that talent, Pia—they work different ways. Mine is seeing in blackness, so it doesn’t apply in daytime. Justin’s is voice projection; for a long time he needed it, because didn’t have a mouth. Show them, Justin.”

  “As you wish,” a nearby tree said.

  Startled, Pia looked at the tree. It had no mouth. “Oh—ventriloquism.”

  “Not exactly,” Breanna said. “Watch his mouth.”

  “I am speaking again,” the tree said. Justin’s mouth was firmly closed.

  Pia nodded. “That is impressive.”

  “But yours should be more useful,” Breanna said. “Because you should be able to see any trouble that’s going to happen. But all talents have limits, and it’s best to understand them thoroughly. What do you see in the future?”

  Pia concentrated, uncertain how this worked. She closed her eyes. Then she saw a pretty shore, with pleasant trees by blue water. “It’s just a scene,” she said. “Trees and water.”

  “Do you see yourself?”

  “No. It’s as if I’m doing the looking.”

  “Okay. There’s a limit. You don’t see who whole scene, just what your eyes see. What happened before that?”

  “Nothing I can see. It’s just the scene. Now it’s changing. Oh—there’s Edsel.”

  “What about Justin and me?”

  “I don’t see either of you. Just Edsel.”

  “Can you hear anything?”

  “No. It’s silent.”

  Justin spoke. “This would seem to be purely an ongoing visual talent, perhaps seeing what she will be seeing exactly one day hence. That is indeed limited, but potentially quite useful. Perhaps Breanna and I are walking behind y
ou at the moment. It is encouraging that there is no sign of mischief.”

  “I suppose,” Pia agreed. She was somewhat disappointed; she would have preferred a more versatile vision of the future.

  “Sometimes simple-seeming talents turn out to have important aspects,” Justin said. “You should continue your exploration. I’m sure Nimby would not have given you an inferior talent.”

  “For sure,” Breanna agreed.

  Pia continued to watch, but all she saw was a dull travelogue as she and Edsel walked along the shore. Maybe it would be interesting when they were there, but with the sound turned off, it was like watching a soundless movie. She had done that once on an airplane flight, because she hadn’t wanted to get soaked several dollars to rent germ-laden earphones for two hours. The movie had distracted, frustrated, and bored her something awful. This felt like that.

  “Perhaps if you attempt to change that future scene, you would ascertain useful information,” Justin suggested. He had a vaguely archaic mode of speaking that made him sound much older than he was. Except that he was much older, she remembered; he had taken youth potion. So he was after all in synch. But why was young Breanna so taken with the man?

  “How do I change my future?” she asked.

  “I should suppose that the mere decision to take a different course would be effective. A person’s future is naturally determined by his choices in the present.”

  “All right. I’ll do something else.” Pia concentrated, determined to do something else.

  But the vision of the future did not change.

  They pondered that, but none of them could figure out how she could change her future if it refused to be changed. “I suspect we shall simply have to wait until we arrive at that point,” Justin said. “Then perhaps we can estimate how we might have changed it, and what might be effective thereafter.”

  That seemed to cover it. They walked on down the path. “We don’t have much of an agenda,” Breanna said. “We thought the first day you’d just want to see the local sights. Then tomorrow, maybe we can visit Castle Roogna.”