“Well, it be metal and plastic, o’ course, as always. I’ll show thee.” She opened her robe and touched the place where her left breast was latched. “Uh-oh.”
“You look fine!” he said. “I don’t care if your latch is broken.”
“There be no latch.”
“Well, whatever. I have accepted the local way, and you are part of it.”
She closed her robe. “E’en an I be not exactly the creature thou hast known?”
He experienced an unpleasant chill. “Are you trying to say that your emotion has changed? That now the crisis is past, you don’t—“
She put her finger across his lips. “Nay, Lysan! I love thee yet! I would spend my life with thee! But an I be other—“
He swept her in and kissed her. “My emotion didn’t change either. I love you too, and no potion is responsible. But I think we have work to do outside.”
“Aye,” she breathed, seeming relieved.
The others had come to a similar conclusion. They were forging toward an exit.
But when the hatch was opened, a stormy swirl of air rushed in, blowing back the elves.
“Must be a dust storm,” Lysander said.
“But it’s wet!” an elf protested.
So it was. “Then it’s safe to go out there,” Lysander said. “I’ll do it.”
The elves gave way for him, and he scrambled through the tunnel and thrust his body up through a hole. There was a storm raging- all right; warm rain plastered his robe to his body in a moment.
Echo emerged after him. “This be not the heat o’ the South Pole!” she said.
“But it’s warm enough. Drop your robe and come on; we can handle this.”
She did. He took her hand, and forged on, trying to gain a point of perspective.
Then a rift opened in the clouds. The sun shone down, directly south of the Pole.
Lysander froze. South?
Beside him, Echo was similarly amazed. “Be the magic gone?” she asked. “The sunlight bends not?”
Flach and Weva came up behind them. “Now I see what happened,” Weva said. “That imbalance—the shell got twisted! The South Pole is now the West Pole!”
“That’s why the storm,” Flach agreed. “The temperature patterns changed; it has to get resettled.”
“A quarter turn!” Lysander said. “We’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”
“It was worse,” Weva said. “We have changed similarly.”
Lysander looked at her. “No you haven’t.”
She smiled. “You are an idiot, ‘Sander.”
“Is there something I’ve overlooked?”
Echo touched his shoulder. “Aye, because thou be not affected, mayhap, having an alternate self not. Watch me change forms.”
Then she assumed her Phaze-harpy form, and flew a short distance into the air.
Her body was shining metal, and her feathers plastic. “Now do you understand?” she called.
“You’re a robot harpy—a cyborg!” he exclaimed.
“I am Echo.” She descended to the ground, and resumed to human form. “And I be Oche. Now dost recant thy pledge to love me?”
Suddenly the change in language penetrated. Echo had been talking in the Phaze dialect! The cyborg harpy talked in Proton dialect. They had changed!
“But you said you still loved me!” he said, stunned.
“Aye, Lysan. I be Echo’s living aspect, and I love thee as she does. It were always I who loved thee, but I said naught, lest revolt thee. Now I would be with thee, but I will leave thee an thou ask.”
“But if the harpy body is now inanimate—“
“This human form be alive,” she said. “I offer it thee, with my love, an thou desire either.”
Nepe appeared. “Methinks thou be wisest to accept, Lysan,” she said.
He turned his head to look at her. “You are Flach,” he said.
“Aye. But I were always both, as be Weva and Beman. It b( a big adjustment, but we shall do it, as we did mergence be fore.” She—he—smiled impishly. “Methinks those in the cities have big adjustments to make too!”
Weva became Beman. “Yes, I be Weva,” he—she—said “Needs must we all adjust. But it be especially important for thee, Lysan, because thou wills! have to coordinate the integration o’ the Hectare into the new order. The faster we can al come to terms with ourselves, the better off we shall be.”
Lysander turned to Oche. “I always knew you were both,” he said. “I knew the harpy watched everything. I knew she way the brain in your machine, just as you knew a living Hectare was the brain in my laboratory-generated body. What ha? changed is only a detail. I love the whole of you. If you love me—“
“Aye,” she said. Then she stepped into him, and they embraced. “But I think thy body be human now too, Lysan.”
“All the way human? But that would mean—“
“That we can have a family,” she finished.
He realized that his future was likely to be even more busy than his past. But there was no time now to ponder the implications; they had to organize for the reorganization of the frames.
Epilog
They gathered beside the wooden castle of the Brown Demesnes. Tsetse looked out a window and spied them. “Brown—there’s an army outside! But a moment ago it was just open fields!”
“Mayhap it be Franken returning,” Brown said. “His step can shake the ground. He were on errand, returning the Book o’ Magic to the Red Adept.”
“No, I mean there really are people out there,” Tsetse insisted. “And animals, and everything.”
“Methought I felt a conjuration,” Brown said. Because her selves were the same, and Tsetse had only one self, the two of them had not been affected by the exchange of identities. It had taken a while to get used to the quarter turn the compass had taken, making the sun now rise and set at the North and South Poles instead of the East and West ones, but the climate of her region had changed only slightly. She considered herself well off in most respects, now that the alien conquest had been reversed.
But whatever could have caused this sudden gathering? She gazed out, and spied wolves, unicorns, elves, demons, animal heads, BEMs, and of course human folk. It seemed to be some kind of celebration, for the folk were brightly garbed and there appeared to be picnic sheets spread out.
“Needs must we go out and see,” Brown decided, speaking positively though she was perplexed and a bit nervous.
“Maybe I should stay in,” Tsetse said.
Brown came to a decision. “Nay, friend. I love thee and will deny thee not. An thou lovest me, come face the world with me.”
“If you’re sure—“
“I know only that I will live a lie no longer, come what may.” She took the woman by the hand, kissed her, and led her to the front portal.
Outside, the gathering was organized almost like an army, with contingents spread in a large semicircle, and a small group centered, facing the castle entrance. As Brown walked out, the visitors came to attention, silently.
At the head of the assembly was Purple, whether Citizen or Adept she would not know until he spoke—and then she would remain in doubt, because of the reversals. This was another surprise; she had thought him imprisoned again. Just behind him stood the woman Alyc, the one who had dated Lysander but then worked for the enemy. Evidently she had found another companion. Brown stopped before Purple, Tsetse beside her.
Purple spoke. “Thou knowest my life be forfeit, for that I twice betrayed my culture. Thou must believe I bespeak thee truth now. I yield naught to none, except to thee, for that thou didst treat me kindly. Know, Adept, that the specter I held o’er thee were but a phantom; others differ but judge thee not for it, as thou dost not judge them. An thou accept it not from thy friends, accept it from thine enemy: it be no barrier for thee.”