“Smartwheel dino,” the man muttered to his companions. Then, to Llume: “On what authority?”
“On Captain’s directive.”
That made him pause. He looked at Melody. Quickly she lifted her two arms, having ascertained from the host-mind that this was a signal of capitulation that would prevent immediate attack. She felt the material of her blouse draw tight across her mammaries.
All three men looked at her chest. One pursed his lips and made a semimusical trill, a whistle.
“What’s your name, hourglass?” the leader demanded. An hourglass: a primitive device for keeping time, appearing as a symbol in the Tarot. Sand funneled through a narrow aperture at a controlled rate. A reference to the appearance of the host-body? Surely not a complimentary one!
“I am Yael of Dragon,” Melody said.
The man’s tongue poked out of his mouth and traveled around the rim of lips, once. “Must be all right,” he muttered.
“More than all right!” a companion agreed.
The leader shook his head as though clearing it of dust. “Look, sorry about this; just following orders. We’re supposed to clear the halls of personnel. You get on to your cabin.”
Melody lowered her arms. The men’s eyes watched the fabric of her blouse relax and settle with the mammaries. “Thank you,” she said.
“Maybe sometime we’ll meet again,” the leader said.
“The hell, schnook!” Yael replied voicelessly.
“This is possible,” Melody agreed verbally. And to Yaeclass="underline" “About supercoasters—did you see that entity’s eyes?”
“He was really looking!” Yael agreed.“ ’Course you put your arms too far back, so you nearly busted the strap.”
Melody caught the image: Once Solarian females had used tight bands called “bras” about their chests to make their mammaries stand up.
“Strange,” the Polarian murmured against the wall. “Weaponed personnel are not normally permitted in the passages. We must move on. Please swim this way.”
“You are a transfer from Sphere Spica, then,” Melody said as she followed. “Not a native Polarian.” Spica was a water world, represented in the Tarot by the Suit of Liquid, or Cups, while the Polarians identified with the Suit of Solid, or Disks. Much of the old Tarot had passed into segment idiom, and many entities used the associations without knowing their origin—as she had already observed in the shapes of the ships of the fleet.
“Of course. I am an Undulant, as I said. I cannot swim on solid, so I utilize a solidbound host. You are also a transferee?”
“Yes.” Melody considered momentarily whether she could trust this entity, and decided not to risk it. Only the Captain knew her nature and mission here, and he had not been informed of her Mintakan identity. Solarians had a certain fetish for secrecy, but considering the nature of the Andromedan threat, secrecy seemed to be in order. When body and mind could be taken over and made hostage to an alien aura without warning or consent, no information in any mind was safe. There were only two reasonable defenses: an extremely high aura, such as the Captain’s or her own, or fairly thorough mental ignorance of critical matters.
Llume halted abruptly. “There is a magnet guarding the passage ahead,” the Polarian said.
Melody needed no further caution. “Will it attack us?”
“Uncertain. Better to have its master admonish it, before we attempt to pass. The visibility of human milk-mounds will not distract this entity.”
Melody grimaced inwardly. Everybody seemed to notice Yael’s mammaries.
The Polarian/Spican extended her tail to a stud high in the wall and depressed it. Melody remembered that the appendage was termed tail for the female and trunk for the male Polarian, and this was a female host. But Spicans had no fixed sex. There were rather three fixed forms whose role in reproduction depended purely on circumstance. In this regard there were strong similarities to the Mintakan system. Perhaps Llume had taken the female role most recently before transfer, so had come to a female host; on another occasion she might manifest as a male. Melody was sure the very notion of sex identity change would be deeply upsetting to Solarians, yet it was quite sensible. What rational entity would want to be confined all its life to one aspect of sexuality?
“I would!” Yael replied, embarrassed.
Which merely went to illustrate the limitations of form. The chained lady could not even conceive of freedom!
“I’m not chained!” Yael protested hotly. “I like being a girl. Can’t you understand that?”
“Llume to Captain,” Llume said, spinning her ball neatly against the stud.
“Captain occupied,” a voice responded after a moment. “Alternate?”
“We are blocked by a magnet, master uncertain.”
“For that you must have the Captain. Ship is on curfew.”
“Please attempt to reach Captain, then. We are unable to honor curfew, owing to presence of magnet. I courier daughter of Minister; cannot risk harm to visitor.”
“Remain in place until contacted.” They waited, but after several minutes there was no callback.
“Must be more trouble than we know,” Melody observed.
“It is unusual,” Llume agreed. “May we converse?”
“I’d love to. I’d like to know more about Spica.”
“And I about the Music Sphere.”
Music Sphere—that could only mean Mintaka! How had Llume learned of this? Or was she guessing? “But first,” Melody said, “I’d like to know how these magnets function. They frighten me somewhat.”
“They are intended to,” Llume said. “They evolved on a densely metallic world with very strong magnetic fields and fluxes. They moved by generating polar intensities, attracting themselves to metallic objects with great force, then shifting the pole in the manner of an electric engine.”
“Electromagnetic propulsion in a living body,” Melody said. “This is new to me.”
“New to most entities who haven’t been aboard military vessels,” Llume agreed. “They were brought into space only in the past century or so, and Solarians have not been eager to spread information about them. Until recently they seemed to be merely a planetary anomaly; they could not survive on other worlds because there was insufficient metal and fuel.”
“Fuel?”
“Their mode of operation requires much power. They consume concentrated organic energy substances, such as petroleum and coal. They vaporize it or powder it, then combust it, converting virtually all the heat into magnetic energy. The field of a well-fed magnet becomes intense.”
“I noticed,” Melody agreed. “They would be associated with the Suit of Aura, no doubt. Which is an intriguing notion in its own right.”
“Finally, an intelligent Solarian realized that these magnets were ideally suited to habitation within metal spaceships,” Llume continued. “The long clear passages, and the temptation of unlimited fuel—”
“Instant guard dogs,” Melody finished. “Yes, I see it now. Not too intelligent, and unable ever to leave the environment of the ship—this is guaranteed loyalty! All you have to do is feed your magnet.”
“Their nature is distressingly Solarian, despite their shape and mode,” Llume said. “They are the ultimate thrust-creatures, objects of terror. They are largely invulnerable to conventional weapons even when directly struck, and they have such speed and power—”
“My sentiments exactly,” Melody said. She had learned much of what she needed to know about the magnets, but it was hardly comforting. If a magnet should get confused and attack her, what possible defense did she have? “May we communicate privately?”