Coan escorted him to a building that appeared to have been constructed by natives of another planet. That made sense; the Moebites had had no technological culture of their own. This was the limitation they were trying to surmount.
“In the beginning, our culture was without form and void,” Coan said, showing a setting of deep water. “We were amoeba, but small, floating in the current. We were victim to other species, and to each other. Predator species were dominant.” And in the setting, little amoeba were engulfed by larger ones.
“We retreated to the least hospitable realms, the shallows and the rivers,” Coan continued as they moved to the next exhibit. “Conditions were more extreme here, and we had to develop tougher membranes and tougher protoplasm. But the predators did the same, and followed us. We retreated to the fresh water, developing membranes to contain our vital solutions, and finally to the land itself.” The settings showed this progression.
“But here the climate was truly savage. No amount of fleshly adaptation could sustain us against the alternate desiccation of the summer sunlight and freezing of the winter. But we discovered how actually to shape our environment somewhat for our comfort, by Grafting deep pools in hollows on the land that the predators could not reach, or by walling off sea inlets so that predators had difficulty passing. Food was a serious problem on land, but we learned to cultivate simple cells and feed on them.
“The most important breakthrough was the development of linguistic communication. It enabled us to form, in effect, a larger entity, that was better able to cope with inclement conditions. We now dominate our planet, and no other species preys on us. But when the first shuttle from an alien planet landed, we realized that a great deal more remained to be mastered.”
“But how do you reproduce?” Mach asked.
“By fission. We grow to sufficient size, then divide into clone entities, each the same as the original.”
“But this should result in the continual fragmentation of the species,” Mach protested.
“No. When two of us have need, we flow together, and the dominant genes establish a new entity with traits of each of the contributors. Then we fission, and the clones are similar. This process maintains a unified species.”
“But each individual loses its identity when mergence occurs,” Mach protested. “A new individual is formed, a compromise creature.”
“Yes. This is why our leading scholars avoid mergence as long as possible. Unfortunately, mergence is our nature; aging and weakening occur if it is postponed too long. Thus we are unable to maintain a truly discrete intellectual stratum in the fashion of the creatures of other planets. This, we now perceive, is a liability.”
“Sexual reproduction allows individuals to reproduce in a species-unifying way without sacrificing their individuality,” Mach said. “That is an asset.”
“Yes. That is why we seek to master this style of reproduction. We are devising a mechanism of uneven fission, so that the clones are not of the same size.”
“But the merging entities must still form new individuals,” Mach protested. “The size should not affect that.”
“True. But it enables one of the clones to retain identity.”
“I am a machine. My thinking may be limited. I don’t follow this.”
Coan showed him to another exhibit. This was an expanded view of two amoeba. “Each adult fissions unevenly,” he explained. As he spoke, the models divided, each forming one large and one small daughter cell. The amoeba, of course, were single-celled, despite their size. “But this is contrary to our nature; the smaller individuals cannot survive alone, being too small to sustain the sophisticated processes of our advanced state. They must merge immediately, while the larger ones are able to survive independently.” The two small ones merged, forming a new individual of about the size of the parent amoeba.
Now Mach understood. “The two parents survive unchanged; together they have generated a new individual, without sacrificing their identities!”
“Yes. This is our analogue of sexual reproduction. By this device we can retain our memories and culture, without sacrificing succeeding generations. But problems remain. The fission into uneven clones is not natural to us, and there is little individual incentive to do it. We need to make it sufficiently rewarding so that every one of us has an incentive to do it this way instead of the old way.”
“And so you are studying the other species of the galaxy, seeking the secret of sexual attraction and fulfillment,” Mach said. “That was what Agape was doing, when she encountered—” He hesitated, then continued. “Me.”
“Yes. It appears that she was successful.”
“I believe so. Not only did she learn the physical pleasure of sexual union, she learned the emotional pleasure of love.”
“We have had difficulty with the latter concept.”
“I am sure you have! But Agape will try to explain it to you when she returns to this planet. Meanwhile, if I might offer a suggestion—”
“We are seeking suggestions from all sources.”
“I am a robot. I have no natural emotions or pleasures. All that I am is unnatural: the result of programming for specific effects. Yet I do have pleasure, and I do love. Perhaps you need to program artificial inducements for your artificial process of reproduction.”
“How can you, as you say a machine, know that your feelings would have meaning for living creatures?” Coan asked. “You have had no living experience.”
Mach decided to be open. “I have had living experience. My identity has crossed over into the body of a living male. I found the sensations and emotions more intense, but of the same general nature. I had not understood them before that experience, but when I returned to my machine body, so did the emotions, and I know they are the same, only reduced somewhat in strength. Enhancement of my programming could correct that. If you could arrange for genetic programming of similar emotions—”
Just then two others barged into the chamber. “My pursuers!” Mach said. “I must flee or fight!”
“But there can be no violence here!” Coan protested. Mach ran for the far exit—and encountered a third intruder, a Moebite in the form of a giant legged ball, with two tentacles at the top holding the poles of what he recognized as an electronic shorting device. One touch of that, and he would be turned off. They had come prepared!
But they were amoeba, not robots. They lacked his strength and ferocity of reflex. He dived below the dangerous tentacles and slammed into the ball-body. It squished. He reached up to grasp the insulated handle end of a pole and ripped it out of the flaccid grasp. He jammed the point against the opposite point.
There was a flash. That shorted out the shorter; it was now useless. He dropped it and scrambled on out of the chamber.
Soon he found himself outside, on land. But the others were following, and he knew they would not be careless again with their shorters. He had to get farther away.
The water! He could handle it, and the shorter could not. He would be safe there. He ran for it, and plunged in.
In a moment he was in the wilderness of uncivilized Moeba. Life was thick, here in the sunlit shallows, and he discovered to his surprise, also beautiful.
Some shapes were like yellow ferns, waving gently in the warm current. Some were like patches of blue gelatin, spread across the warm rocks. Some were like pink puffballs clinging to vertical surfaces, and others like the thick brown bristles of scrub brushes. Some were like flowing syrup, and some like puffy white mold—which they just might be. Many were like large ant eggs standing on end, and many others were like dewed spider webs.
This was the realm from which Agape had sprung. He made a file of photographs of it, so that Bane would be able to recall this information and see it all, exactly as Mach was seeing it now, when Bane returned to this body. Mach knew that his living other self would be pleased.
He was safe, now, walk-swimming through the water. But how was he to return safely to Proton? By this time
Citizen Blue would have secured things there; all Mach needed to do was get there, and see how Fleta was doing.
He decided to wait a reasonable interval, then return to the museum, where the Moebite authorities should have dealt with the intruders. As Coan had said violence was not tolerated there; they would do whatever they did to criminals. Then he would be able to return to the space station in the normal manner and take the next ship for Proton. It should be straightforward now that he had triggered the trap and escaped it. Agape too, should be safe, when she came here; the Contrary Citizens’ fangs had been pulled, at least on this planet.
Meanwhile, he would explore this realm further recording as much of its beauty as he could for Bane.
Chapter 7
Troll
When she recovered full consciousness, she was in a cage. She scrambled up in alarm.
Immediately a bat leaped into the air beside her cage. The bat became a woman of extraordinary beauty, wearing a light cloak resembling the folded wings of the bat. “Adept!” she exclaimed. “She wakes!”
An extraordinarily ugly man appeared. “Aye,” he agreed. “The amulet restored her somewhat. Now must thou teach her to change her form.”
The woman reached up and opened the cage. “Come to me, hummingbird,” she said. “I be Suchevane, and I did promise my bitch friend to help thee. She says thou art not Fleta, but her other self, unable to use her body well.”
So this was Suchevane! Bane had been right; there could be no lovelier creature than this! Agape hopped onto her hand.
“The Red Adept caged thee with an amulet to restore thy strength, but thou must also eat,” Suchevane said. “Now shall I revert to my natural form. Do thou take my paw and change back to girlform with me. Dost thou understand?”
The routine was becoming familiar. Agape nodded agreement.
The woman set her down on the floor. Then the bat reappeared, beside her. Agape touched the bat’s paw. Then she willed herself to change when the bat did.
The room reeled. She found herself being supported by the bat-girl. She was human again!
“I thank thee, Suchevane,” the Red Adept said. “Now can I help her, and thou be free to return to thy flock.”
“Will she be well, Adept?” Suchevane asked anxiously. “She be—her body be my friend too.”
“She will be well,” the Adept assured her. “It will take time for her to recover completely, for much vitality was lost in the birdform, but I will see to her recovery.”
The bat-girl smiled at him. “Much do I appreciate this, Adept. An thou dost need me for aught else, thou needst but ask.”
“For naught but dreams,” the man muttered. Then, with ordinary volume: “Thou has done more than enough. I must not hold thee longer.”
“Then do I take my leave,” Suchevane said. She became the bat, and flew away.
The ugly man turned to Agape. “I be Trool the Troll, otherwise known as the Red Adept. I see thou art repelled by mine appearance, as all normal damsels be. But fear not; I gave up trollish ways when the Blue Adept befriended me. I mean thee no harm, but only to restore thee to proper health and the use o’ thy body, so that thou mayst go thy way without danger. It was needful to convert thee to thine human form so that thou couldst eat normally.” He walked to a chest and brought out an armful of fruits and breads. “Do thou eat thy fill, and then I will show thee where thou mayst rest. The cage were but to protect thee from injury, an thou shouldst wake and be affrighted.”
Agape gazed at him, becoming reassured. “You like her, don’t you.”
The Adept paused, taken aback. “Does it show so much? I wish to make not a fool o’ myself.”
“No, not at all,” Agape said quickly. “She is stunningly beautiful, and I—I am an alien creature who loves a human man. I think I tune in to this sort of thing, now.”
“An old troll has no business dreaming,” he said. “Now do thou eat, for thy present well-being is but temporary, the result o’ mine amulet. I will leave thee now; do thou snap thy fingers when thou wishest aught.”
He turned away.
Agape realized that she was ravenous, but she had a doubt. “Adept, if you will—if it is not an imposition—would you stay?”
“Stay? I thought to relieve thee o’ my presence whilst thou dost eat.”
“Your presence is no affront to me. I recognize that for a man you are ugly, but I realize that you are not a man, and in any event, my standards are alien. I am not certain I can eat, here, so may need your further help.”
“The food be good,” he said quickly. “The vamps provide it—”
“I am sure it is good. It is that my normal mode of eating may not work, here, and I am not sure I can eat the human way.”
“Thou dost become more interesting by the moment,” the Adept said. “Do thou make the attempt, an this suit thee not, I will fetch other.”
Agape made the attempt. She put her face over a chunk of bread and tried to melt into the digestive format. Nothing happened.
Trool fetched a chair and sat opposite her. “Exactly how dost thou eat, in thine own fashion?”
Agape described the process.
“But thou dost know how human beings eat?”
“I have seen it happen;” she admitted.
“Thou art now in human form, and not merely in external emulation,” he said. “Do thou imitate me, step by step.” He took a chunk of bread, and brought it to his face.
She imitated him. He opened his mouth, baring his teeth, and bit into the bread. She bit likewise. He tore free a piece of bread and closed his mouth over it. She did the same. He closed his mouth and masticated, and she did too. Finally he swallowed, and she copied him as well as she could.
The sodden mass of chewed bread went down inside her neck and into her main torso.
“That be it,” he said. “Thy body will take care o’ it from here. Do thou continue eating.” He took another bite.
“You mean—that’s all?” she asked, amazed by the revelation. “I don’t need to melt into it?”
“That be all,” he agreed. “Thy digestive processes be now entirely within thy body.”
“I—I thought it was like—would be the way it is with Bane—with Mach’s robot body. He can eat, but not digest, so must open a panel and remove the food before it spoils.”
“That be one fancy golem body!” Trool remarked. “Nay, it be not that way for thy present body.” Then he angled his head, struck by another thought. “Hast thou had experience with elimination?”
“Only of my own type, which is not the same.”
“It be not meet for me to try to teach thee that. Suchevane can instruct thee, when she comes to practice thee on form-changing.”
Agape practiced her eating, finishing the chunk of bread, then tackling a large pear. Juice slopped down her chin; this was a new challenge! But gradually she learned to do it more neatly and efficiently. She even managed to drink a cup of grape juice without spilling very much down her front.
Finally, her stomach full, she stopped. She lay on the bed the troll had provided, and slept.
In the afternoon Suchevane arrived. Trool explained briefly the need, and the bat-girl escorted Agape to a shed that smelled of manure. “Do thou sit on this hole and let it go,” she said.
“Let what go?”
Suchevane cocked her head. “Thou has truly done this not before?”
“Nor seen it done,” Agape agreed. “Human beings are secretive about the details, and Bane—the robot had no need. He showed me sex, but not elimination.”
“He showed thee sex,” the girl repeated. “Aye, and he showed that me, too; men be eager enough for that.”
“Bane showed you sex?”
“We were young, and curious. He had no human female friend, so he played with us animals, and we be friends since. Fleta, Furramenin, me—we told not the adults, o’ course.”
“He played with me too,” Agape said. “In the frame of Proton. But why didn’t he
marry one of you?”
The girl laughed. “The son o’ an Adept marry an animal? That were never in the cards! Nay, it be play only, and long o’er now.”
“Did he tell you that he loved you?” Agape asked, concealing the tightness she suddenly felt.
“Nay, o’ course not! Bane ne’er deceived others; he spoke only truth.” Then she looked sharply at Agape. “He told thee that?”
“Yes.”
“And Mach told Fleta!” Suchevane shook her head.
“Oh, did he e’er tell her! He spake her the triple Thee. I was there, and ne’er saw the like! The air, the cliffside, indeed all the world it seemed turned sparkling clean, and she—” She shook her head. “I envy both!”
Agape remembered the way the Red Adept had reacted to this young woman. “Adepts don’t marry nonhumans?”
“Ne’er! Why should they, an they have anything they want o’ us anyway? They marry seldom at all, and then only human women, as did Blue.”
“Forgive me if I am speaking inappropriately—but would you marry an Adept if he asked you?”
Suchevane shrugged. “That be entirely theoretical. Any animal would marry any Adept, an he asked her. Or any decent human man. I would have married Bane, an he e’er wished. But an Adept ne’er would.”
“But what about a nonhuman Adept?”
“There be only one, and he be Trool the Troll. He be separated from his own kind since he adopted human ways, and he be kind to my folk. An he wish to take one o’ us for play, she would do it readily enough.”
“Even you, the most beautiful of creatures?”
“Aye, especially me! I tired early o’ handsome males; fain would I settle with one like him, with decency and power. But he has no interest.” She looked at Agape. “But this be a diversion. I must show thee how to eliminate.”
True enough. Agape was suffering some discomfort but was unable to relieve it in her natural fashion. “Is it like eating?”
“Nay, not precisely. Here, mayhap I can show thee. Let me take the hole.”
Agape moved off, and Suchevane moved on. She lifted her cloak out of the way to reveal her bare posterior. “Here do the solids come out, and here the liquids.”
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