Robot Adept (16 page)

“But the ‘corn can,” he replied. “An the rovot return and change his mind, we want that unicorn captive.”

“Where be she now?”

“We know not. She set out afoot in girlform for the mountains, but vanished.”

“Belike she took birdform and flew away,” Tania said. “An she come to me in that form, I know how to deal with her!” Her gaze flicked to the butterfly net.
 

“Save thy strength for Bane,” he advised. “It will require it all to make him do thy will.”

She shrugged, her breasts moving. “He be a man. I have practiced the Eye to stun the higher functions. An I hit him with that, he will not know he be changed; he will see only a body he lusts to possess. By the time he spend himself on that, he be mine.”

“Just make sure he is, an that time come,” Tannu said seriously. “Meanwhile, we marshal the animals.”

“Speaking of which—there be a bird below. Do thou get it away from here before it stinks.” He shook his head. “Thou must cease wasting thy power on nonentities, Tania.”

“Well, bring me something worthy of mine effort!” she snapped. “Like Bane. Methinks I could have amusement of him; he be a fair young man now.”

“All in good time,” he replied, and got up, evidently to take care of the dead bird.

Bane realized that he had scored as a spy after all.
 
By being made captive, he had remained close enough to overhear the enemy dialogue. Now he had confirmation of the treachery of the Adverse Adepts—and some notion of their interest in him, too. Could Tania really use her evil eye to enchant him? He would have thought no, before, but now he was not sure. She seemed too confident, and her approach was insidious.
 
Stun his higher sensitivities, and tempt him with sex. If he succumbed to that, it would play havoc with his relationship with Agape, as perhaps Tania intended.
 
More likely, she merely wanted the challenge of taming an apprentice Adept, and of fashioning a sexual plaything.

He did not think she could do it. But he wasn’t sure, and did not care to take the chance. He would stay well away from her!

The day slowly passed. Bane flew to a number of flowers in the cage, satisfying his hunger, but did not dare try to escape. He was sure he could get away by reverting suddenly to manform and immediately conjuring himself away, but that would give away his identity and ruin the validity of the information he had gleaned. It was important that he escape without being suspected.

At night, when Tannu and Tania had settled for sleep elsewhere in the tree, he made his move. He flew to a firm spot in the garden, and reverted to his natural form.
 
Then he walked carefully to the fastened flap of netting that Tania used for her own entry, opened it, and stepped out. Then he climbed a branch overhanging the garden and broke off a dead projection. He brought this down to the net and used it to tear a small hole in the fabric, directly below the spot from which the branch had been taken. He set it down just beside the net. In the morning, when Tania found her prize butterfly gone, she would discover the hole evidently made by the falling branch, and realize how the insect had escaped. She would be annoyed, but not suspicious. He hoped.

Then he climbed down a trunklet to the ground, and made his way out of the tree. He walked some distance into the night, putting distance between the sleepers and his conjuration, making it less likely that they would be aware of it. Then, finally, he conjured himself home.
 
In the following days he spied on the goblins, ogres and demons that Tannu had mentioned. Sure enough, they were organizing as for battle. But where did they plan to strike, and when, and with what forces? The break he had had at the Tan Demesnes turned out to have been his best; butterflies could not get close enough to the decision makers at the right times to spy out anything critical.

Then he learned that the Adverse Adepts were suspicious of the unicorn. They had managed to trace her to the Red Demesnes, and saw little reason for the unicorn to go there. But if it were another person in her body, who needed help learning the magic, that could account for it. So they were alert for her, in whatever form. They knew their strongest possible hold on him, Bane, would be through the creature he loved, just as it was with Mach.

“I must go to her, to protect her,” he told his father.
 

“No,” Stile said. “They aren’t sure. If you do that, they will be sure, and her danger will be increased. Let Trool handle it; he can protect her readily enough.” Bane knew that his father was right. So, reluctantly, he continued his spying missions, hoping for the break that would give them the rest of the information they needed. In time he would be reunited with Agape. That was what he lived for.

Mach found himself naked in a chamber, embracing the alien female, Agape. “The exchange has been accomplished,” he said. “We had better disengage.” For Bane had conveyed to him that this was the office of one of the Contrary Citizens. What a place for them to hide!
 

“Where be we?” the woman asked.

He started to explain, then realized it was pointless, because she had been here all along. “But you already know that. Agape.”

“I be Fleta!” she said.

“Don’t tease me like that, Agape,” he said. “I love her.”

“Tease thee? I tease thee not,” she protested.
 
They discussed the matter, and soon she satisfied him that she really was Fleta, who somehow had managed to exchange with him, and was now in the body of the alien female. What a development!

“This really be thy rovot form?” she asked.
 
He was glad to have his love with him, however unexpectedly, but this was decidedly awkward. Fleta had no notion of the ways of Proton, or even of the management of her strange body. She would quickly give herself away, if he didn’t indoctrinate her immediately.
 
Her language alone . . .

They worked on it. Fleta adapted to the language fairly readily, and with some difficulty learned how to reshape her amoebic body. Learning how to cope in the frame of Proton would be a longer task; he had to settle for the minimum.

In the course of their discussion, he learned from her that Tan was the Adept of the Evil Eye, and that he had wanted to marry his daughter to Bane. How fortunate that Bane had resisted!

Teaching Fleta to eat the amoebic way was a challenge. Getting her through the night was another, be cause Agape’s body melted when it lost consciousness and puddled on the bed. But they squeaked through it, and in daytime Fleta was at the front desk as Agee, the android receptionist.

Meanwhile he researched their situation, and learned that the self-willed machines were helping, and had a plan to enter Agape in this year’s Tourney, which was about to begin. That would protect her from the Contrary Citizens until she washed out, when she would be shipped back to Planet Moeba, no interference brooked. Good enough; all she had to do was hide for three days, and she would be safe.

Except that it wasn’t Agape with him now, it was Fleta, and Fleta knew nothing about the Tourney, and less about Planet Moeba. It would be complete disaster to ship her there.

He would have to get her exchanged back to Phaze before she went to Moeba. That could be difficult. He would have to think about ways and means.
 
Tania stopped by the office: the very thing he hoped would not happen. She was striking in her fashion: a face that was removed from the ordinary by its tan eyes and framing of tan hair, and a well-developed body.
 
Obviously she could be a beauty when she chose to be.
 
At the moment she was too cold and Citizenlike despite her nakedness to be attractive, however. Serfs learned early to treat the bodies of Citizens as objects of veneration, not of interest, unless directed otherwise.
 
She reviewed Fleta in a cursory manner, then Mach.
 
She wasn’t satisfied. She curtly ordered Fleta to requisition a replacement menial robot. Then she was gone. Perhaps it was a test; if so, Fleta passed it nicely, except for the single error of referring to him as a “rovot.”

Then Tania’s brother appeared. In Phaze it seemed that this young man had not yet assumed the office of the Adept, but in Proton he was evidently Citizen Tan.
 
Parallelism was approximate, not perfect; otherwise Mach and Bane could not have been alternate selves.
 
Did the Citizen suspect? Mach watched with increasing apprehension as Tan questioned Fleta, then handled her, then took her to the sleeping chamber for a sexual exercise. Obviously a true android serf would be thrilled to have such attention from her employer, while an alien female in love with a robot would not. Could Fleta tolerate this intimacy for the sake of concealment of her nature? He feared she could not, and tried to interfere on a pretext.

And his body was abruptly shorted out. Now he knew, too late, that Tan suspected; he was helpless.
 
But Fleta, primed to act when he gave the word, decided it was time. She wrapped her amoebic flesh about Tan’s more sensitive parts and forced him to obey her. She made him free Mach, then deposit her in the waste disposal chute. The self-willed machines would guide her from there. She had escaped.

Leaving Mach with a hurting and humiliated Citizen.
 
It would not be smart for Tan to do anything to Mach, because Mach was the key to communication between the frames that the Contrary Citizens so very much desired. But Mach wasn’t sure that Tan was in a. mood to be smart at the moment. He made a hasty retreat from the office, and with a speed that only a machine in a frame whose details were run largely by machines could manage, became lost in the service network. He knew Tan would not give the alarm; this would be a private grudge. Citizens did not take lightly to depradations on their dignity.

He consulted his brethren, the machines. He learned that there was indeed a search on for Agape (Fleta), and that it would be dangerous for her if Mach were to try to approach her before she was safely qualified for the Tourney.

Yet she would want and need his support. How could he provide it, without putting her in peril? How could he resist the natural urge to go to her prematurely?
 
He knew how. He requisitioned a unit and programmed a dialogue. He dictated an opening statement that would satisfy her as to his authenticity, and left the rest to interactivity. It would seem just like him, and give her comfort. He left it with the self-willed machines, who would use it when appropriate.
 
But when he set foot in the halls, and sought to lose himself among the walking serfs as he made his way to the estate of Citizen Blue, an android turned abruptly and threw an object at him. Mach dodged it, and it struck the wall beyond him, detonating in a flash and report like that of a small bomb but doing no harm.
 
Apparently it was a toy, a mock explosive.
 
Mach took off after the android, who was trying to duck around a corner. He wanted to know who had sent him, and what the mock-bomb was supposed to do.

The android, like most of his species, was clumsy.

Mach reached him easily, catching him by the shoulder.
 
The man whirled, flipping another bomb toward Mach’s face. Mach intercepted it with his left hand, his reactions much swifter and better coordinated than the android’s.

The bomb exploded in his hand, and the pieces of it fell away. It might have harmed a flesh hand, but not his. “What are you trying to do?” he demanded.
 

“Mark you,” the android said.

Suddenly Mach understood. That had not been a damage-bomb, but a marker-bomb! It had impregnated his hand with radiation that would enable him to be traced.

“Who sent you?” he asked.

“Citizen Tan.” The android was not even trying to evade; evidently his attempt to flee had been part of a ruse to get Mach close.

Mach let him go and ran on toward his destination.
 
But he saw suggestive motion ahead, and realized that others were already closing in. They knew his destination, and his location, and would intercept him before he reached safety.

He had been right about Citizen Tan: the man was angry. Tan intended to capture Mach, regardless of the Contrary Citizens’ desire to get him to work for them.
 
Injured pride was more immediate than long-term power. Fleta was safe because Tan could not find her—but Tan could get at her through Mach, reversing the ploy.

This situation had developed so quickly that Citizen Blue was not aware of it. Mach needed to get back to the self-willed machines, who would alert his father.
 
But the minions of Tan were cutting him off from that-contact too. Also, his contact with them now would serve as proof of their complicity. He had to find some other avenue of escape.

Mach charged back the way he had come. This happened to be the hall leading to the spaceport; he had entered it from a service aperture, which he did not dare use now, as the tracer radiation would betray his private contacts.

The spaceport? That was a dead end! They would close in on him there, and spirit him away before he could alert his side. Unless—

Why not? Their tracer would do them no good, if he were offplanet!

He hurried to the waiting shuttle. Ships did not actually land in the dome city; the shuttle conveyed passengers to the orbiting station, where they boarded the interplanetary vessels. He stepped in just as the port was starting to close; the shuttles departed on a rigid schedule every few minutes. He was safe from pursuit—for those few minutes.