I will like it with you.
He wasn’t just saying it, he was thinking it, and the sincerity of his thought was not to be doubted. Oh, Seqiro, you are so much more than I ever dreamed of!
I know. I felt you coming from afar, and hoped you were human. It is a strain to think across realities, but with the Virtual Mode it is possible, and I had to find you and bring you to me.
This was sudden, but right. Colene knew her life had changed, in a way she had never expected. She had loved Darius quickly; she loved Seqiro instantly, but in a different way. Instant love was supposed to be foolish, as it was based on infatuation rather than knowledge, but with direct mind contact, that rule was irrelevant.
Soon she learned his situation, because he made a comprehensive explanatory mental picture: this was a reality in which the horses governed, just as the dogs, cats, and bears governed some of the realities she had passed. They did it by telepathy, imposing their will on human beings. To an outside observer, this was much like a human reality, but here the humans acted at the behest of the horses, feeding them, exercising them, and guarding them.
But Seqiro had too much of a mind for leisure. He wanted to explore new frontiers and gain new understandings. He also tended to be generous to his handlers. This had made other horses look bad, and finally they had acted by removing his handlers, effectively confining him to his stall. He was being pressured to change his ways. He had resisted—and then felt the questing of the Virtual Mode.
There had been such questings before, but he had not cared to risk them. Now he had to, for it was his only likely escape, physically and mentally. It was no coincidence that this connection had come; only those in great need established Virtual Modes, and only those in similar need attuned to them. They were like calls across the realities: I NEED YOUR HELP. SHARE MY ADVENTURE. But such adventure could be extremely strange. Thus only specially receptive minds felt the questings, and only the most strongly motivated folk accepted them.
But there was serious risk entailed, for though he knew he could escape via the Virtual Mode, he did not know who had instituted it, or for what purpose. He did know that other animals had mental powers, and that many of these were predator species. If this happened to be a tiger Mode, he would have difficulty relating and would probably perish. If, on the other hoof, it was a compatible species, he might do very well, and gain intellectual satisfaction.
When he had tuned in to her approach, he had perceived what seemed to be a human personality. Could it be a human Mode? That possibility had not occurred to him before, but of course any species could institute a Virtual Mode if it knew how. He had never noted any telepathic power in the human kind, but it was certainly possible that it existed in variants of that species in distant realities. Certainly a human animal could be compatible; human animals were a horse’s best friend here.
Then it turned out that the approaching human was only potentially telepathic. This was very promising, because such a human would need a horse for mental contacts, just as a horse needed a human for physical chores. Would the human be amenable to such cooperation? It was female, and females tended to like horses for themselves, apart from their power; that was another positive sign.
By the time Colene reached his stall, he had the answer. The sheer chance of the Virtual Mode had brought him the ideal companion. Their two realities might be different in most cultural and practical respects but they aligned in what counted most for this purpose: the affinity of horses and girls. It was a bond that needed no further justification.
Yes, Colene agreed.
Now you must get my things, for I can not do it, and bring them to me, so I can travel with you.
But I am limited to a ten-foot swath, she protested. If I step out of it, I will leave this reality and lose you.
Not once you pass through the anchor, as you did when you entered my stall. Now you are in my reality, until you approach it from the other side.
She found that hard to believe, but it turned out to be true: she could now leave the stall and cross the aisle without losing track of him. She was now in his reality, all the way.
They got it organized: she would hide her bicycle in his stall, then fetch his feed and supplies, then open his gate and they would depart his anchor, as he called it, and resume progress toward her destination. Seqiro had no destination for himself; he merely wished to be free to explore and learn, without suffering undue hardship.
He made a mental picture for her, how she should dress and deport herself so as to pass unnoticed among the local attendants. Any human folk she should ignore, but she would have to respond to any equine queries. She should indicate that she was on private business for her steed, and move on. The uniform was simple: a loincloth, cape, and sandals. There was a supply shed near the stall; she went and changed, under his mental guidance. She removed her own clothing, then put on the loincloth. It circled her waist once, looped into two ends in front, and one end passed down between her legs and up and over in back. It rather resembled the cloth worn by the American Indians, being supremely simple and functional. When she had that properly wrapped, she donned the cloak, which was a circle with a hole in the center; it came down to about her waist. Then sandals, each one fashioned of two slabs of wood linked by cord, for heel and toe, and a loop of cord for the ankle. Again: about as simple and functional as clothing could be. Obviously the human folk of this reality did not rate fancy outfits.
Then she donned the hat. This was what identified her status and affiliation. It was like a beanie with a hanging tassel, and the manner the tassel fell indicated her degree of autonomy. Some humans had more responsibility than others, and could act without constant direction from their horses.
Now she walked to the granary for the feed. She passed other humans, who were similarly garbed. They ignored her. She knew they would not have, had she appeared publicly in her own clothing. Had Seqiro not been guiding her as she first came onto these premises, she would have run afoul of others.
The granary was stocked with bags of grain. Take two, if you can carry them, Seqiro thought. Each represents approximately one day’s feed, and I will need eight.
She picked up two, putting their straps over her shoulders.
She walked back with them and set them in Seqiro’s stall. She made another trip, bringing two more. She was surprised how easy it was; others seemed not to see her at all. She could take the whole granary, load by load, and no one would care. She tossed her head, feeling carefree for the moment; this was fun in its ways. Her cap almost fell off, and she had to jam it back.
Then someone did notice. It was a young man. He glanced passingly at her, did a doubletake, and approached her. He stared at her hat.
Seqiro—something’s wrong, she thought, hoping he was tuning in. She could not broadcast her thoughts; it only seemed like it. He was able to think to her alone, so that others of his kind did not know he was breaking confinement, but he might not do that continuously now that she knew what she was doing.
I am here.
She pictured the situation, hoping she didn’t have to put it into words, because that would take too much time.
Give me your eyes.
Eyes? Could he see through her eyes? She relaxed, trying to let her mind go blank. She hoped that was enough.
Her eyes moved on their own. They cast about, then focused on the man. He is looking at your tassel. It must have changed position.