Chalker, Jack L. - Well of Souls 02 by Exiles At the Well of Souls Page B
Authors: Exiles At the Well of Souls
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secret. There is an effective agent against the sponge. It will not cure an addict, but it will permanently arrest the mutant strain in the human body. It will save Nikki, and it will save countless thousands of others. You must get it to higher authority."
She nodded. "I'll try."
"Remember!" Obie cautioned. "The activation is set for thirteen hundred standard hours. When you awaken from this dream, it will be four hundred hours. I cannot delay and hope to succeed. You must be at least a light-year away from this place by then, with Nikki. Anything less, and you will still be within the field. That means you must take off not later than eleven hundred thirty hours! When you have lifted off, if Nikki is aboard, the code you require to bypass the protection circuits will be given you. If Nikki is not aboard, it will not be given. Understand?"
"I understand," she told the computer grimly.
"Very well, then, Mavra Chang, I wish you good luck," Obie told her. "You have powers and abilities undreamed of by others; do not fail me or yourself."
Mavra Chang awoke.
* * *
She looked around in the darkness, and tried to focus. Suddenly the whole place came in, clear as a bell, although the room was plainly still dark. She turned slightly on her back, and felt that tail, still there.
That, and her incredible night vision, told her that everything she had dreamed was true. She possessed other facts now— the complete knowledge of the construction and layout of New Pompeii, down to the smallest detail. She could rebuild it from memory, she knew.
She relaxed and concentrated. She didn't know how she was doing what she was doing, or on what principles the trick worked, but she knew how to do it. In exactly three minutes she came out of the trance, looking at the little camera. It was fixed squarely on her lying on the bed, naturally. It was an automatic type that should follow her movements.
She rolled off the bed in a flash, and lay there, for a moment, on the side. Landing on the boots was uncomfortable, but it was another half-minute before she risked a look back on top of the bed.
The camera was still focused on the center of the bed— and why not? There was the nude form of Mavra Chang, tail and all, sleeping peacefully.
Mavra marveled even though she knew she was staring at a holographic image. It had been created by her own mind and by some powers she didn't understand that had been added to her body, but she hadn't the slightest idea how such a thing was possible. It didn't matter, she thought pragmatically. The fact that the illusion was good up to six hours was the only important thing.
The pullover was no problem, but the body stocking proved a real nuisance. It wasn't designed for a tail. She considered a moment about what to do, then discovered that they hadn't merely laundered the garment, they had tailored it. The alteration included a hole through which the tailbone fitted and through which the thick, wiry hair would slip easily.
Good old Trelig, ready for everything, she thought sardonically.
Only the boots now remained a problem. She didn't want to leave them, yet she couldn't use them until she was outside the main building. She decided she'd just have to carry them.
They did seem much lighter to her, and for a second she wondered if they had been tampered with. She spent a couple of minutes assuring herself that they were the same. So what else could account for the change? Then she remembered Obie's words: she was stronger by far than she had been. She accepted that.
She left in the same manner she had the night before, leaving the seals in place, face and hands blackened and energized against the infrared lenses of the cameras.
She retrieved the pistol which was, to her relief, where she had left it. She put on the holster and quietly slipped out. The forty-meter dash seemed even easier now; she wasn't certain that she hadn't broken a new track record.
She used the second suction ball, first dropping
She nodded. "I'll try."
"Remember!" Obie cautioned. "The activation is set for thirteen hundred standard hours. When you awaken from this dream, it will be four hundred hours. I cannot delay and hope to succeed. You must be at least a light-year away from this place by then, with Nikki. Anything less, and you will still be within the field. That means you must take off not later than eleven hundred thirty hours! When you have lifted off, if Nikki is aboard, the code you require to bypass the protection circuits will be given you. If Nikki is not aboard, it will not be given. Understand?"
"I understand," she told the computer grimly.
"Very well, then, Mavra Chang, I wish you good luck," Obie told her. "You have powers and abilities undreamed of by others; do not fail me or yourself."
Mavra Chang awoke.
* * *
She looked around in the darkness, and tried to focus. Suddenly the whole place came in, clear as a bell, although the room was plainly still dark. She turned slightly on her back, and felt that tail, still there.
That, and her incredible night vision, told her that everything she had dreamed was true. She possessed other facts now— the complete knowledge of the construction and layout of New Pompeii, down to the smallest detail. She could rebuild it from memory, she knew.
She relaxed and concentrated. She didn't know how she was doing what she was doing, or on what principles the trick worked, but she knew how to do it. In exactly three minutes she came out of the trance, looking at the little camera. It was fixed squarely on her lying on the bed, naturally. It was an automatic type that should follow her movements.
She rolled off the bed in a flash, and lay there, for a moment, on the side. Landing on the boots was uncomfortable, but it was another half-minute before she risked a look back on top of the bed.
The camera was still focused on the center of the bed— and why not? There was the nude form of Mavra Chang, tail and all, sleeping peacefully.
Mavra marveled even though she knew she was staring at a holographic image. It had been created by her own mind and by some powers she didn't understand that had been added to her body, but she hadn't the slightest idea how such a thing was possible. It didn't matter, she thought pragmatically. The fact that the illusion was good up to six hours was the only important thing.
The pullover was no problem, but the body stocking proved a real nuisance. It wasn't designed for a tail. She considered a moment about what to do, then discovered that they hadn't merely laundered the garment, they had tailored it. The alteration included a hole through which the tailbone fitted and through which the thick, wiry hair would slip easily.
Good old Trelig, ready for everything, she thought sardonically.
Only the boots now remained a problem. She didn't want to leave them, yet she couldn't use them until she was outside the main building. She decided she'd just have to carry them.
They did seem much lighter to her, and for a second she wondered if they had been tampered with. She spent a couple of minutes assuring herself that they were the same. So what else could account for the change? Then she remembered Obie's words: she was stronger by far than she had been. She accepted that.
She left in the same manner she had the night before, leaving the seals in place, face and hands blackened and energized against the infrared lenses of the cameras.
She retrieved the pistol which was, to her relief, where she had left it. She put on the holster and quietly slipped out. The forty-meter dash seemed even easier now; she wasn't certain that she hadn't broken a new track record.
She used the second suction ball, first dropping
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