Multiverse: Exploring the Worlds of Poul Anderson Read Online Free

to speak and Luke raised his hand. For once, the boy subsided, his eyes on Carolyn. Just as Luke decided she was not going to answer, she raised her head.
    “They were illusions. But not lies. Because we really did experience the illusions. We saw them and heard them.” All at once she began to sing:
    “Cast a spell,
    Weave it well
    Of dust and dew
    And night and—”
    “Stop!” Terry shouted.
    “Mistherd—”
    “Don’t call me that!”
    She put her hands over her face and started to cry. “Flowermother came to see if I was all right! She came in her own body and she came even though she thought humans might kill her or capture her. She came because she cares about us. And even after I went through their shield she stayed as herself. Do you understand, Mistherd? She cast no illusion in my mind!”
    The girl looked directly at Luke, all of Roland’s pagan wilderness in her eyes, and said, “You asked me what I saw. I saw the alien who raised me and loves me and came to see if I am all right. That’s why she came. And—” the girl drew a deep breath—“and my name is Shadow-of-a-Dream.”
    Later, after they had gone, the girl in tears, Luke sat alone in his office. He sat for a long time. Finally he activated the commlink and sent a message to Chief Halford.
    “I think you should put a twenty-four-hour guard on Carolyn Grunewald. She may try to go back to them.”

    Dogs were never fooled by alien illusions; evidently their brains were too different. Chief Halford was accompanied by her mastiff when she came to Luke’s office, although privately he doubted that she actually needed it. Some people’s minds seemed impervious to illusions, even the illusion of goodwill created by common courtesy.
    “You failed,” the chief said. “Carolyn is refusing to see you again, and not even Terry can persuade her.”
    “That was a risk I had to take. The greater risk was having her run.”
    “Why would she do that? Why would anybody do that? I don’t understand!”
    The plea might have moved Luke if it had been less belligerent, or if he hadn’t felt so weak. This was not one of his good days. It was so difficult pretending to not be sick, pretending to not be old. He was not moved by Chief Halford, with her small glaring eyes and self-righteous scowl, but he owed her an answer.
    “The aliens’ neuropsychic projections can create the illusion of seeing whatever archetype you most desire,” he said gently. “Why wouldn’t that tempt a person?”
    “But it’s not real!”
    “No.”
    “Then the girl is insane. Or you misdiagnosed her.”
    “I didn’t diagnose her at all. I merely alerted authorities that I thought she might run and was therefore a danger to herself. As I am legally required to do.”
    “Oh, I know, you follow all the rules, doctor.”
    He had her pegged now: a fear biter. She was like certain dogs—hopefully not the mastiff lying by her side—that attacked when afraid. Chief Halford’s fear was not for herself but for Christmas Landing, for the humans so tentatively established on Roland, and for Anne.
    The attack came next. “Why didn’t you tell me that you are dying of an inoperable brain tumor?”
    Anger rose in Luke. “Medical records are supposed to be confidential.”
    “Nothing in Christmas Landing is hidden from me!”
    She actually believed it. Luke would trace the leak later, and someone would be in deep trouble for it. Now all he said was, “Total knowledge is an illusion.”
    It went right over her head; she was not built for irony. She rose, looking down at him—to gain an advantage?—and said, “I don’t want you to see Anne anymore.”
    “That’s really up to her. As you’ve pointed out to me, sixteen is legal adulthood on Roland.”
    “We’ll see about that.” She banged the door as she left, and the mastiff growled at him.
    No, not one of the good days. And only half over.

    The chapel in Christmas Landing was dusty. No one had cleaned the tile floor or