You there, Ray? You talking at me, Woodchopper?
Who the hell else? Hey, Aik, if this is a dream, don’t wake me up.
No dream. It’s realio-trulio and we are in for one helluva good time. Hey! What say we bust out and do a little sightseeing in the town?
They got me locked in, Aik.
You forgot what we learned at the party? Hang on a nano-sec while I put my clothes on and I’ll be right there.
Aiken threw on his golden costume, checked to be sure that no Tanu was watching, then launched himself out of his bedroom window. Hovering above the mansion like a great gleaming insect, he sent his seekersense homing in on Raimo’s querulous thought pattern, then dived at the open window of his buddy and popped into the room crowing, “Ta-dah!”
“Damn, you really do know how, don’t you?” Raimo said with some envy. “Seems I’m only good for pickin’ up furniture.” By way of demonstration, he caused the bed to dance and sent tables and chairs flying about the room.
“Everybody’s different. Chopper. You got your talents, I got mine. You could have diddled the mechanism of the lock to escape, you know.”
“Shit. Never thought of it.”
Aiken grinned. “You’ll be thinking of a lot of things from now on, Ray, and so will I. Last night was some kinda eye-opener, no?”
The former woodsman laughed out loud and the two of them wallowed in a mutual replay, chortling over the discomfiture of the scandalized Sukey and Elizabeth, who had retired abruptly when the members of the Hunt joined the festivities. Poor straity-ladies! No sense of humour and probably fridgies to boot. It had been good riddance when they left, and the party had gone on until dawn, featuring entertainments increasingly delightful that the two men could savor to the full, strengthened by their silver torcs. Good old meta-boodly psychokinoodly!
Aiken gestured out of the window. “Come on. Let’s see how the human half lives. I’m curious about the way the normals operate in this Exile setup. Don’t sweat the flying bit, Ray. I can hold up the both of us.”
“They’ll spot us.”
“I’ve got another metafunction. The illusion thing. Check this!”
There was a soundless snap and the small golden man disappeared. A tiger swallowtail butterfly flapped up and landed square on Raimo’s nose. “Keep those paws down or I go hornet,” said Aiken’s voice. The butterfly vanished, and there was the practical joker again, standing in front of Raimo with one finger resting on the forester’s nose.
“Hell’s bells, Aik! You are loaded!”
“Say again, Chopper. Gimme your hand. Come on, don’t be a poop. We’re off!”
Two yellow butterflies flew away from the Tanu dwelling and over the town of Roniah. They swooped above the workshops of potters and rooftile makers and weavers and carpenters and metalsmiths and boatwrights and armorers and glassblowers and sculptors. They intruded upon lapidaries and painters and basketmakers and rehearsing musicians; sipped nectar from the jasmine that bloomed beside swimming pools where pregnant women lounged and laughed; flew into an open-air school-room where a dozen blond, lissom children pointed their fingers in amazement and a startled Tanu teacher sent a dangerous query arrowing back toward Bormol’s mansion.
“To the docks!” Aiken ordered, and they flew toward the riverside. Broad flights of steps led down to a busy landing stage. Rama stevedores unloaded barges while human dock-hands and boatmen, many of them naked to the waist in the morning heat, went about their jobs or loafed in shady places waiting for some other man to finish his.
The two butterflies landed atop a fat mooring bollard and turned back into Aiken and Raimo. One dockworker gave a shout. Seagulls rose up from the pavement and pilings, squawking an alarm. Aiken strolled off the bollard, leaving Raimo sitting there and blinking, and struck a pose in thin air. A burly bargee gave a shout of laughter and exclaimed, “Well, if it ain’t Peter Pan himself! But you better send that there Tinker-bell back for a refit!”
The dockside loafers roared. Up on the bollard, Raimo extended both of his arms to the side. His slanty-eyed Finnish face wore a crooked grin and a look of odd concentration. Immediately a dozen gulls fluttered down and aligned themselves from his wrists to his shoulders.
“Hey, Aik! Shootin’ gallery! Zap before crap or you lose!”
The hovering little man in gold took aim with his forefinger. “Tarn!” he said. “Pam-pam-pammidy-pom!”
Small flashes ran along Raimo’s plaid-flanneled arms. He was engulfed in a cloud of smoke and fragmentary white feathers. The audience whistled and applauded while Raimo sneezed. “Attaway, li’l biddy buddy!”
“And for my encore,” Aiken cried, making a pass with both hands at the bollard itself, “I give you, shazooml”
There was a sharp explosion. The heavy timbers of Raimo’s perch disintegrated, leaving him suspended above the water wearing a look of pained surprise.
“Was that nice?” the ex-forester expostulated. He floated over to the chuckling Aiken, grasped him by the epaulets of his golden suit, and suggested, “Maybe we should cool off with a swim!”
The two airborne figures began to wrestle, bouncing low over the muddy yellow waters of the Rhône among the moored lighters and wherries and barges like wind-tossed carnival balloons. The men on the docks cackled and stamped, and terrified ramas dropped their burdens and covered their eyes.
Enough!
Creyn’s mental command whipped out, hauling the two back to the quayside and depositing them onto the pavement with a painful jolt. Four attendants from Bormol’s mansion stepped forward to take firm hold of the still snickering miscreants. With the fun clearly at an end, the dockworkers and boatmen began drifting back to their jobs.
“I am programming mental restraints upon your major metapsychic functions until you have received proper training at the capital,” Creyn said. “We’ll have no more of this childish behavior.”
Aiken waved at Elizabeth, Bryan, and Sukey, who were being escorted down the quay stairs together with Stein on his litter.
Raimo said, “Aw, Chief. How else we gonna learn what we can do?”
Aiken added, “Lord Bormol told us last night to get right into it. And did we ever!” He winked at Sukey, who glared at him.
Creyn said, “From now on, you’ll do your learning in a controlled environment. Lord Bormol doesn’t need you repaying his hospitality by destroying his wharf.”
The little man in gold shrugged. “Don’t know my own strength yet is all. You want me to try putting that thing back together again?”
Creyn’s eyes, opaque blue in the sunlight, narrowed. “So you think you could? How very interesting. But I think we’ll wait, Aiken Drum. It will be far safer for all of us if you stay on the leash for the time being.”
Elizabeth’s thought came stealing gently along…
So many wild talents you do have Aiken. What else is hidden in there? Let me look.
She sent a probe boring into him. It caromed off a hastily erected but effective barrier.
“Cut it out, Elizabeth!” Aiken cried aloud. “Quit or I’ll fewkin’ well zap you!”
She regarded him sadly. “Would you, really?”
“Well…” He hesitated, then gave her a lopsided smile. “Maybe not, sweetie-face. But I can’t have you messing about with me, you know. Not even in fun. I’m not Stein… or Sukey, either.”
Creyn said, “Our boat is waiting for us at the end of the landing stage. We must be on our way.” But as they all went down the dock, the Tanu man reached out to Elizabeth on a narrow-focus mode that spoke to her mind alone: