Something was odd. Shee suspected illusion, but there was none. Then she got it. "You're pictures!"
"Agreement," the male's translator said. "Here are our real forms."
The human figures faded, and there were two masses of writing tentacles. "Ammonoids," the female's translator said. "Like your Earth squid, but with shells."
It turned out that the Ammonoids had long pointed shells extending back into a chamber filled with brine, their natural habitat; only their open front portions were visible. They had amazing control of the colors of their skins; they could make pictures crossing the tentacles, that remained in place even when the tentacles moved, as though the images were being projected from some other source. When they projected their human images, their real bodies were masked, and tended to disappear.
They were eager to learn the songs. The three women knew them all, and sang them. The Ammonoids picked them right up and sang them back. It was via the translators, but soon that aspect seemed to fade too, and it was as if they were talking directly. They were certainly apt entertainers.
"Curiosity," Shee said at one point. "You, la, appear to be human, a pretty girl, when you try. Suppose some man in the audiences, maybe one who has been drinking an alcoholic beverage, tries to get fresh?"
"I would wrap my tentacles around his limbs and hold him firmly until he ceased," la said. "I have no flesh that a human man could copulate with."
That seemed to cover it. Shee was sure the Ammonoids would put on some great shows for the crew. It might be complicated setting up their brine chambers, but not as complicated as having berserkers result from space cafard.
In the evening shift the three tourists were assigned cabins to share according to a roster determined by the Mistress. Shee found herself naked with a husky young Earther who eagerly clasped her, penetrated her, and spurted into her before gasping "Thank you, ma'am." Evidently he knew nothing of the arts of love.
They don't, Idyll's thought came. Idyll could reach her regardless of her lack of telepathy, perhaps because she was not exactly a living creature herself. But they mean well and they're not bad people. See what you can do with him.
So she wasn't through with him. She talked gently with him, evoking his life history, including the girl left behind who had then married another man, giving him no reason to return to civilian life. But he missed having an understanding companion. She listened, kissed him, mounted him, and brought him off in a slow second climax. "Oh, ma'am!" he said appreciatively. "Oh ma'am, oh ma'am! I never had it like that before!"
"You did not have a girl who truly cared for you," she said. "You can surely find one, if you look."
"Where?"
"On this ship, perhaps, if you look beneath the surface." Shee spread her awareness, searching, and found women who were similarly lonely yet hesitant. They did exist.
He laughed somewhat bitterly. "They all got handsome men waiting back home."
"Let's see." She spoke into her communicator. "Mistress."
The Mistress appeared, accompanied by Iolo, who seemed to like her. Mistresses were virtually by definition likable. "Problem?"
"Is there a female among the crew of this ship who would like to share the embrace of this man?"
"Several."
"Naw," the man said, disbelieving.
"They are not beauties," the Mistress said. "But they are fit and long for sexual and even romantic appreciation."
"Bring one, please," Shee said. "Perhaps—" she concentrated to evoke the name. "Dulce."
The Mistress glanced at her, surprised. "Yes." She moved away. Iolo followed her.
"You're fobbing me off!" the man said.
"Negation. Try her, and if you are unsatisfied, I will return. The difference is, I am here only for a night. She can be with you the whole tour, if you both wish. She is a better bargain."
"Naw." But his objection was fainter.
The Mistress brought her. "This is Dulce." Then, to the woman: "You know what to do."
"I sure do." Dulce stripped and took Shee's place on the man's bunk. She was a buxom woman, slightly heavyset, with plenty of the kind of flesh men liked. "Come on, you hunk; I've been wanting to do this with you a long time, but you never even looked at me."
"I didn't know—" He didn't finish, because she was kissing him.
"You got a great body," the woman said. "Muscles. I like that."
"I—she took my edge off. Twice. I can't—"
"The hell you can't." She wrapped herself around him, pressing her generous breasts against him as she squeezed his bottom. Sure enough, soon he could.
Shee departed with the Mistress. "Obviously you have had experience," the Mistress remarked.
"He's a good guy. He deserves a woman."
"Indeed. Are you ready for another?"
"Affirmation." And soon she was wrapping herself around another man. There was indeed a certain pleasure here, not really sexual, but in being so thoroughly in control. She was making these lonely men very happy in a very short time. She liked that.
By morning she had done it with five men, and placed three of them with compatible female crew members.
Men, however bold in battle, could be shy or simply stupid about romantic approaches. She had never climaxed herself; for her it had been good practice of her Glamor talents.
The three got together for breakfast. The Mistress approached, with Iolo. "You are not the backwoods lasses you seem," she said. "You have expertise rivaling mine."
"We are anonymous," Gale said.
"Accepted."
"We are Glamors on a private mission. The dog is an ifrit."
"Ah, now it falls into place. Appreciation. You have done my men much good in this time of stress."
"Men need women," Gale said. "They think they need sex, but they need women."
"Affirmation," the Mistress agreed.
The trip lasted three more days. They did a number of additional men good. Between times, they conferred, helping Shee develop her talents. She was just beginning to get telepathy, with Idyll's help; it was a matter of orienting correctly on living minds the way she did physically with the living men. She was improving on clairvoyance. She could handle emulation. But near future paths seeing balked her.
"I don't think it's possible," she said. "I am wired for far future seeing."
"You aren't what you were wired to be," Idyll reminded her. "As a Glamor you leave machine limitations behind, just as living Glamors leave life limitations."
"Hope," Shee said.
In due course the ship orbited Earth, and they collected Iolo and took the shuttle down. A traveling capsule whisked them off to rendezvous with Monochrome. "I still doubt that my quality as a nexus warrants taking Monochrome's time, let alone yours," Shee said.
"Warranted," Idyll replied.
Monochrome met them privately. She too was masked, with none of her monochromatic or Glamor nature showing. Now her hair was pale brown, and her eyes similar. No one would take her for the ruler of the Planet Earth.
"I know a theme park," she said.
They went to the northern portion of the double continent of America, and to the central portion of an attached peninsula. There was a large amusement park, recreated in the approximate image of one existing a thousand years before, with walkways, rides, and spot entertainments. They were now four anonymous women on vacation.
They started simple, boarding a miniature touring train that clattered on its track in a circuit of the complex. All the other entertainments were revealed in the course of that circuit, by no coincidence. But their attention was nominal.
They were focusing on Shee, with Iolo alert to warn them if any other tourists became too interested in their dialogue.
"You're right," Monochrome said. "She is a nexus, and it is intensifying. But what is her focus?"