The water stabilized. The pipe must now be in shadow. What a blessing!
She heard a tapping. She came alert; that was the signal! And in a moment she came to a division in the pipe; a smaller offshoot diverged, and the tapping was from its direction. She wriggled into it, flowing up to a narrow spigot. She squeezed through it, landing in a basin supervised by a testing machine.
She formed an eyestalk so that she could see more clearly. There were no serfs here; this unit was completely mechanized. Good; she formed into her full human shape.
"Go to the overseer's office," the grille on the testing machine said. "Follow the line."
Agape looked, and saw the line. It traveled down the center of the chamber, and was evidently used to guide the less intelligent machines. She followed it out of the chamber and down a hall, and in due course came to the office.
"Assume this form," a new grille told her. A picture flashed on the adjacent screen.
"But – but that's a man!" she protested.
"Is it beyond your ability?"
"No." She realized that she had become too thoroughly wedded to the original human form she had assumed. She thought of herself as female, but she could have become a male. Probably the machines wanted to conceal her identity completely, and this was the way to do it.
She melted partially, drawing her hair and breasts back into her torso, then reformed to match the picture. It was holographic, slowly turning to reveal every detail, so this was not difficult. She hesitated when she studied the masculine penis, but realized that she could not afford to omit this detail. So, dismayed, she formed it and the attached scrotum.
"You are Sander, traveling to become the employee of Citizen Kumin. You are new to Proton. Avoid discussion beyond this subject."
"I am Sander, to become the employee of Citizen Kumin," she repeated dutifully.
"Take the air shuttle to Hardom. When there, assume your normal human identity and go to the premises of Citizen Blue."
Agape walked out of the water processing section, following directions, and to the air shuttle station. This was a busy place, with serfs and machines hurrying to and fro. There were shuttles going to Anidom and Gobdom and Moudom and Gnodom; she found the one for Hardom and walked up the ramp and took the first vacant seat she found. She had only used such a conveyance once before, and felt uneasy.
Other serfs entered, some with tattoos showing their employing Citizen. The seats filled. A young woman plumped down beside Agape. "Hey, who you with?" she asked.
"I am Sander, to become the employee of Citizen Kumin," Agape said carefully.
"Oh? I'm Lula, and I work for him too. Had to hand-carry a message, now going back. So you're new on Proton?"
"New, yes," Agape agreed.
"So you don't know the ropes."
"Yes." Agape was not at all comfortable with this.
"Well, we might as well get friendly, since we're going to the same place." Lula, seated to Agape's left, put her right hand on Agape's left leg, stroking it. "You're human, aren't you?"
Agape became aware of two things. Lula was not human, she was android; the forwardness of her manner suggested that. And she assumed that Agape was human, and male, and proposed – what?
"Oh, come on now," Lula said, evidently taking Agape's silence for timidity. "This is Proton. We're serfs. Nobody cares what we do." Her hand moved, becoming considerably more familiar. "Get it up, and I'll sit on your lap, and when the takeoff boost comes – hoo!"
"No!" Agape said, blocking the further progress of the hand. "I can't – "
"Oh, so you figure you're too good for an android!" Lula exclaimed, her anger flaring readily. "You think just because you're human, you don't have to mingle!"
"You misunderstand," Agape protested. "I'm not – "
But she could not go on, because she did not want to reveal her true nature until she was safely in Hardom, away from any possible interception by Citizen Purple.
"Then show it!" Lula said, reaching again.
"Not from this planet," Agape said, intercepting the hand again. "Where I come from, it is not this way."
"Well, brother, you are not where you come from."
"Oh, leave him alone, android," another serf said. "He doesn't have to play with you."
Lula turned to the other. "You going to play instead, robot?"
The man smiled. "You think I can't? Come sit on me, android."
Lula leaped to the challenge, joining him. In a moment the vacated seat was filled by a new boarder, this one male. Agape relaxed.
Belts snaked out and secured the passengers to the seats. Without further ceremony, the shuttle took off. Its nose was hauled up to a forty-five-degree angle, and it was catapulted out through the forcefield that was the city-dome and into the harsh thin atmosphere of Proton. Wings sprang out from its sides, and a jet of fire propelled it onward.
In moments the craft was cruising over the Purple Mountains, proceeding north. Agape stared out the port, fascinated. She realized that a mispronunciation of her name would describe it: she was agape. On her prior shuttle flight she had not crossed the mountain range; it had been from the main spaceport to Hardom, and she had been distracted by the newness of the entire situation. Now she could focus on the geography, and wonder whether she could spot the particular mountain on which she and Bane had hidden from the Citizen's minions.
Bane. The machines had read her appendage, and verified to their satisfaction that she loved him. But would she ever see him again? The question filled her with melancholy.
"Something wrong, man?" her new companion inquired.
She was crying, and it was human but not masculine to cry. She was guilty of a social impropriety. "I am new to this planet," Agape said.
"Must be," the man said, and averted his eyes.
The mountains passed all too rapidly, and the shuttle began its drift downward, economizing on fuel by losing altitude. Then, approaching Hardom, it nosed up until it stalled, then dropped precipitously, leveling out just before reaching the dome. It plunged through the force– field and was caught by another field that netted it and brought it to the dock with a thunk. The ride was over.
The belts retracted and the passengers filed out. Lula passed, glancing briefly down at Agape; evidently she had had her satisfaction of the robot. Contrary to what the android might suppose, Agape did have a notion how that could be.
She got up and joined the file. She emerged into the station, and ducked away before the android could remember she was supposed to be going to the same place. She went to a sanitary facility, entered a male booth, and changed to her normal female human form. What a relief.
She stepped out – and a passing male serf stared at her. Too late she realized that this was a segregated facility, and she was in the male one. Yet what could she have done, in her male guise – entered the female one?
She hurried out and along the passages, eager to get to the security of Citizen Blue's estate. She kept thinking that some minion of Citizen Purple's would leap out and capture her, nullifying her entire effort of escape and putting Mach or Bane into jeopardy again.
But she arrived without event; apparently the self– willed machines had spirited her out without notice. She approached the office marked Blue.
There was a secretary in the office. This was a woman
of early middle age, a serf whose body remained well formed but whose light brown hair was beginning to turn gray. This surprised Agape, for hair color was easy to control, and desk-girls were normally young.
"May I help you?" the woman inquired, lifting her gaze to meet Agape's. Her eyes were green and clear.
"I – have important news for Citizen Blue," Agape said.
The woman smiled. "I am in touch with him. What is your name?"
"Agape."
"He will see you immediately." The woman stood. "Please come this way."
Agape followed her through a door-panel into the Citizen's office. Evidently Citizen Blue
was ready for her, though Agape had been aware of no message to him. He stood facing her, smiling.
The Citizen was an unusually small man, shorter than Agape herself, and of no great girth. He was garbed in a simple blue robe. But his features were unmistakably related to those of Mach.
"Agape has arrived," the secretary said.
"Thank you, Sheen," the Citizen said. He focused on Agape. "You love my son, Mach?"
"No, sir," Agape said, taken aback.
"Who, then?"
"Bane, sir. His other self from Phaze."
"You believe it was Bane?"
"Yes, sir."
"You can tell the difference?"
"Yes, sir."
Blue gestured. A panel opened, and a figure entered.
Agape turned to look at it. And froze. It was Mach!
Or was it? Realizing that this was a test, she went to him, and put her arms around him. The man responded. Agape put her lips up to be kissed, and the man kissed her.
She pulled away. "This is neither," she said.
"I told you she would know," Sheen said.
Suddenly Agape made a connection. "Sheen! Mach's mother!"
"Of course," Sheen agreed.
"But you are a robot. How can you have aged?"
"Cosmetics can do wonders," Sheen said.
"And you are serving a menial task! But you are married to a Citizen!"
"I am a serf," Sheen said simply.
Agape remembered her mission. "I must tell you – both of you – Citizen Purple has Mach captive. You must free him!"
"He remains intact?" Sheen asked.
"Yes. They don't dare hurt him, because he represents their only contact with Phaze. But – "
"We were so concerned!" Sheen said. "When he was missing for a week – we knew someone had abducted him, but the records were wiped before we traced them. We could not even sound an alarm, until we were sure."
"Citizen Purple is an ugly, vicious man!" Agape said.
"Get Purple on the screen," Citizen Blue told Sheen.
The woman went to the desk.
Blue turned to Agape. "Sit down," he said, guiding her to a couch, where he joined her. "Citizen Purple kidnaped my son because he believed he has contact with the frame of Phaze?"
"Yes, sir. And he sought to use me as a lever against him, to make him serve the bad Citizens."
"Because Mach loves you?"
"No, sir. Bane – cares for me. Not Mach. Not that way. But Mach got me free, with the help of – " She broke off, uncertain whether she should mention the self-willed machines.
Citizen Blue smiled. "My wife is one of them. She knows. No more need be said. But you – it may be difficult for you to continue with the Experimental Project, now."
"Yes, sir. I think I must go home to Moeba."
"And leave Bane behind?" "And make it impossible for the bad Citizens ever again to use me against him. Or Mach."
"You would stay, otherwise?"
"To perhaps see Bane again, if he returned? Yes, sir. With your permission."
"You suppose that we would disapprove a liaison between a robot and a living creature?"
And he had married a robot! "No, sir. Between a robot and an alien creature."
"That would be his choice to make. But I will tell you this, Agape. We have researched everything known about you and your species. We would welcome you into our family."
"Oh, sir!" she exclaimed, and leaned across and hugged him. Then, appalled, she jerked back. She had touched a Citizen!
"But it be Bane, not Mach, whom thou dost love," Blue said. "That be a problem thou canst not readily solve."
Agape stared at him. "Sir," she breathed.
Blue laughed. "I was reared in Phaze," he said. "Dost thou think I remember not? Surely Bane does love thee!"
"Online," Sheen murmured.
Citizen Blue swung around to face the large screen above the desk, visibly hardening as he did. He said no word.
Citizen Purple stared out of the screen. His eye fell on Agape, seated so close beside Blue. For a moment his mouth worked silently. Then he scowled. "It's a bluff, Blue! That's a mockup!"
Blue turned back to Agape. "Show him," he said.
Agape understood. There was only one visitor from Moeba on the planet. She began to melt, her facial features dissolving into formlessness, her arms softening and withdrawing back into her torso.
"Enough," Blue said. Agape reversed the process, and began to reform her human features.
"But I've still got your robot boy!" Purple said. "If you ever want him back in one piece – " "Is it then to be a test of strength between us?" Blue asked evenly.
Purple looked like a cornered rat. "You can't do anything as long as I've got him, Blue!"
"If you force me to move against you," Blue said, "I will ruin you."
"I'm not giving up that machine!" Citizen Purple said. "You know why!"
"Then defend yourself, cretin," Blue said. The screen went blank.
"No!" Agape cried. "Don't let them hurt him! I'll go back!"
Blue put his hand on hers. "Be not concerned, lovely creature. We shall have him soon safe."
But Agape had seen the malice of Citizen Purple firsthand. She was terrified of what was about to happen.
14. Appeal
When her keen equine ears picked up the distant commotion, Fleta knew it was time to act. Bane had used his magic to nullify the amulet tied to her horn; it no longer bound her.
She changed to hummingbird form, letting the harness drop. She darted to the magic screen, but could not pass. Her magic had been restored, but its magic had not been nullified. She needed the amulet.
She darted back and tried to pick up the fallen amulet, but it was too heavy for her present form to manage. Already the troll on guard was staring, about to cry the alarm. But the troll was outside the cell, and could not get in.
She changed to girl form, stooped, picked up the amulet, and hurled it at the barrier. There was a sparkle as it burned through, then dropped outside. She marked the place, then changed back to bird form and darted at that invisible hole. She folded her wings and slid through, feeling the terrible pressure of the barrier's magic against her tiny body. A hole the diameter of a unicorn's horn was a tight squeeze even for her present form!
She wriggled on out of it, spread her wings again, and darted under the troll's ugly nose and on down the hall. She was out of the cell, but not really free yet. She had to win clear of the Purple Adept's Demesnes entirely.
Fortunately her present form had a good sense of smell, especially for the things of nature, such as the bloom of flowers. She could trace the currents of fresh air. She flew upcurrent, following the freshness to its source: a vent-shaft leading to the surface. It was covered by a grille, but the holes in it were large enough for her to pass. She flew up and out – and almost into the clutches of a harpy.
Knowing that the harpy would snatch her and kill her, she changed immediately to girl form and dived for a stick with which to fight it off. Unicorn form would have been better, but she knew that any appearance of a unicorn here would alert the Adept; she couldn't risk that.
Her ploy worked. "A vampire!" the harpy screeched, mistaking her fleeting glimpse of the hummingbird for a bat. "What do ye in Harpy Demesnes?"
"Just passing through," Fleta said, holding the stick ready.
"Well, this will end thy travels!" the harpy screeched, and launched herself, talons extended.
Fleta smashed the dirty bird with her stick, with mixed result. The harpy was knocked to the ground, but the stick was rotten, and shattered.
"O, I'm going to skewer thee!" the harpy screeched, righting herself and spreading her gross wings again. Like all her kind, she was a tough old bird.
Fleta fled. She wanted no contact with those poisoned claws! As a unicorn, she was proof against most magic, regardless of the form she assumed. So the poison would not kill her, but it would make her sick and leave an ugly scar. Sh
e outdistanced the harpy and concealed herself in thick brush. Too bad it wasn't that easy to foil an Adept! But of course nothing could foil an Adept, except another Adept.
But the harpy's commotion attracted others of her kind. There was rustling all along the forested slope. Fleta knew she was in real trouble now; even in unicorn form she would have trouble breaking out of this. They would soon sniff her out.
Then she remembered Phoebe's feather. She brought it out and set it on the ground. Then she changed to unicorn form and struck her hoof against a rock, making a spark. The spark jumped to the feather and started it burning. Then Fleta changed back to girl form, hoping Phoebe would quickly smell the smoke. That was the secret of that "magic," of course: each harpy could detect her own essence from almost any distance. Some harpies used their own excrement to mark off hunting territories.
But Phoebe was some distance away, while the other harpies were close. And the wind was wrong. If the smoke did not reach her, or if it took too long to carry Fleta's summons…
"I smell a bat!" a harpy screeched, close by. That was an exaggeration; it was the hummingbird she had winded.
Fleta cast about desperately for some escape. She knew she could not make a break for it through the air; she could maneuver well, but could not outfly the harpies in a straight-line effort. But how could she hide, when they smelled her?
She spied a small hole in a nearby trunk. She did not trust such holes, for anything could be in them, but now she had to risk it. The harpy was already lumbering into sight. She shifted back to hummingbird form and darted in.
She was in luck. The hole was empty, though by the smell it had on occasion been used by a wren.
Almost immediately, the body of the harpy thunked into the trunk. A talon plunged into the hole. "Gotcha, batbrain!"
But again it was enthusiasm rather than accuracy. The hole was deep, and Fleta was able to wedge herself back beyond the range of the talon. The dirty birds couldn't get her. Now she had only to wait. She hoped.
"So it be that way, eh?" the harpy screeched. "Well, I'll spit on thee!"
Oops! A harpy's spittle, like her poison, was vile stuff. If a globule of that caught Fleta, it would foul her unmercifully. It wouldn't really hurt her, but it would be a singularly unpleasant experience.
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