No creatures bothered her along the way. She knew that Trool had seen to that. He had not helped her to travel there, because he did not like her purpose, but he had agreed to protect her from interference during the interim.
It took several days. At last she reached the mountains, and climbed the foothills, and then the main slopes. As evening closed, she made her way to a grassy ledge overlooking a deep chasm.
It was the ledge where her dam, Neysa, had stood, twenty years before, when ready to leap off rather than suffer Stile to conquer her. Neysa had not intended suicide; she would have changed in midair to her firefly form, and flown away, leaving Stile to fall to his death below. But he, not realizing that, had freed her instead – and in that act had captured her after all. Thereafter she had given him everything. Later he had made to her that Oath of friendship that had subtly changed the relationship of men, unicorns and werewolves, and whose power still was felt, twenty years later. But that Oath had its root at this site, where he had taken that first step.
Fleta stood at the brink. Neysa had not contemplated suicide – but Fleta did. Had she come here ordinarily, she could have leaped – but would have changed to bird form involuntarily, rather than die. So she had had herself enchanted. Now, when she jumped, she would not be able to change her mind.
This act would solve the problem. She would be beyond caring, and Mach, if he ever learned of it, would know that there was no longer anything to distract him from his other business. She was freeing him – from her. From the temptation and distraction of the impossible.
"Mach!" she cried, letting her love for him overflow at last, letting the mountains hear it. Indeed they heard, for they echoed it back. At the snowy heights the snow– demons emerged from their ice caves, marveling at that echoing word. A ripple passed through the air: the splash of conviction.
Now she had uttered it. Now she was committed.
Then she made a swan-dive off the ledge.
15. Blue
Bane found himself back in a Proton cell, this time clamped to a wall so that he could not move. Evidently Mach had not been able to free himself. But had he been successful in freeing Agape? That was what really counted.
He tuned himself out, knowing that there was nothing he could do at the moment, and that there was nothing the Contrary Citizens could do to him, since without him they would have no avenue to Phaze. Since this machine body had no so-called natural functions, his immobility did not generate discomfort. Obviously something had happened, to make the Citizen wary of his prisoner's freedom. What had Mach done?
A screen came on before him. It was set in the wall opposite, and his head was locked into place facing it; he could tune it out in his mind, but could not look at anything else. It seemed his captor wanted him to watch it.
The picture was of the interior of a house or suite.
The furnishings were in shades of blue. "Pay attention, robot," Citizen Purple's voice came. "You thought you were pretty clever, springing the amoeba, but watch how we get her back."
So the Citizen didn't know that Bane had returned to Proton. He thought he was addressing Mach. Thus he was inadvertently providing the very information Bane most desired: the news that Agape had escaped. Mach had done his job!
But if she had escaped, she should have gone to Citizen Blue. The picture showed blue, suggesting that this was his residence. Was she here?
Indeed she was; in a moment she entered, in the company of a lovely older serf woman. They sat on the couch, unaware that they were being observed.
"We have to free Mach," the older woman said earnestly. "They can no longer put pressure on him by threatening you, which is one reason he arranged to free you first. He could have used my friends to free himself, but he didn't want to leave you in their power."
"Your friends?" Agape asked.
"The self-willed machines. I am one, of course; our form matters less than our brain."
"Your whorish robot mother must have taught you those tricks," Purple muttered. Evidently his commentary was separate, directed to Bane alone.
"But why didn't they save him too?" Agape was asking.
"They could have – but that would have alerted your captor to your own escape, and he might have intercepted you before you got clear. So Mach used himself as a diversion, distracting the Citizen's attention from you, giving you the time you needed."
"The bitch machine is right," Purple said. "We were watching you. But that trick won't work again. I have eliminated all the self-willed machines from my employ, and acted to prevent you from using any more cute little parts of yourself to do mischief."
So that was what Mach had done! Bane would never have thought of that. He kept silent; he was doing well enough this way.
"But Mach – what of him, now?" Agape asked. "I never meant to leave him prisoner!"
"My husband will rescue him," the woman said. "But we must make absolutely sure they do not get hold of you again because you represent their best lever against him. So I think we must send you back to your home planet, at least until my son is safe."
"Yes, of course," Agape agreed. "I have caused you too much trouble already."
"Your participation in the problem was coincidental," the woman, who Bane realized was Sheen, Mach's mother, said gently. "Your support to him has been invaluable. We feel that no blame attaches to you. But now that you have become a key figure, we must keep you out of their hands. We are arranging to take you directly to the ship leaving today for Moeba."
Was this to keep her safe – or to eliminate her as a factor in Mach or Bane's life? Bane wasn't sure. Yet perhaps it was best; he would rather have her on another planet than at risk of torture here.
"Guess what's going to happen," Purple said.
Suddenly Bane realized: they were watching a private dialogue! The enemy Citizen had used one of his pseudomagic devices to spy on Citizen Blue, and knew what was being planned. "No!" he cried.
"You thought all you needed was to spring her loose, boy? The game isn't over till the blubber-lady sings."
They were going to recapture Agape – and what would Bane do then? He couldn't let her suffer!
Maybe it was a bluff. A charade, with actors in a setting resembling the home of Citizen Blue. After all, how could such a spying eye be placed without Blue knowing? Certainly Bane's father, Stile, in Phaze, could not be spied on in such manner!
Yet Agape looked so genuine! He was sure it was her!
"We'll bring her in to see you," Purple said. "Little reunion; you'll like that, won't you! So take it easy, machine; you'll be sure enough it's her when she arrives."
Bane was all too certain that was true.
The screen dimmed out, and he tuned out. But later he was roused by the screen again. This time it showed an atmospheric flyer, similar to the one that had picked up Bane and Agape. It was cruising across the foggy desert. Beside it was another, and a third; a small fleet of them.
"They figured to sneak her out on a routine supply flight," Purple's voice came. "We figure to pluck it like a plum." He laughed coarsely. "A damned purple plum! Blue's got a lot of wealth, but precious little common sense! Here he's trying to figure out how to get you back, and he's losing his own high card!"
Bane watched, mortified, as the supply craft came into sight. The attack-craft intercepted it, surrounding it.
"They're signaling for help," Purple remarked. "Doesn't matter; by the time it comes, the prize'll be ours."
Indeed, the attacking craft brought the supply craft to the sand. Suited men sprang out and swarmed to it. Soon they hauled a figure out, and Bane could tell by the way it moved that it was Agape.
They shoved her into one craft. The screen changed to show the face of a serf. "Sir, we have the alien," the man said.
"Put her on the screen," Purple said. "I want to see her myself."
They hauled Agape up to the camera. She remained in the suit, but now her helmet was off. Her features were slightly melted aroun
d the edges, because of her distress. She was still struggling, but ineffectively.
Bane felt his nonexistent heart sinking. They did indeed have her.
"Now you know I don't care about the amoeba," Citizen Purple said. "And maybe you don't too. But you bet your other self does."
What use pretense? "I be the other," Bane said.
"Oho! You switched back already?"
"Aye. Mach be free in Phaze; I be captive here."
"Yeah? How do you figure he's free?"
"I used magic to free the unicorn. Thine other self was about to slay me, but the Translucent Adept took me instead, and let me go. I returned to find out about Agape."
"Translucent, eh? Yeah, that's like him. He uses the soft sell, but he always wins in the end. But how do you figure the machine is free now?"
"Translucent gave his word."
"Translucent's one of us!"
"I know. But he honors his word."
"So do I, boy. And I promise you this: that girl– creature of yours is going to suffer if you don't cooperate. I want your word: no more tricks."
Bane was silent.
"Well, we'll do it the hard way, then," Citizen Purple said grimly.
Bane tuned out again, as there wasn't much else to do. What would happen, would happen.
He resumed awareness when people approached his cell. It was the Citizen – and Agape. She was tearful and dispirited, and her details were blurred by trace melting. It was evident that she lacked the will to muster her proper human appearance.
The panel of the cell slid across behind them. "Okay, boy," Citizen Purple said. "We're private now. This is nobody's business but ours. My serfs don't know what I want from you, but you do. Let's play a game, you and me. Let's see who can stand the most heat."
"I be in a robot body," Bane reminded him. "I can endure more heat." He wondered why the Citizen should wish to have this encounter private; did he fear betrayal by his own serfs? Or was he afraid that Citizen Translucent would spy on him, and take over just the way the Translucent Adept had in Phaze? That did seem more likely; it was evident that neither the Contrary
Citizens nor the Adverse Adepts fully trusted their own associates.
"Well, we'll just see about that." The man brought out a tiny instrument. He touched buttons.
Immediately the heat began. It radiated from the walls, in the manner of an oven, raising the temperature of the air.
Agape made a muffled whimper.
Then Bane remembered: she was vulnerable to heat. It melted her. That was the true thrust. He could withstand more than could the Citizen – but surely Agape could withstand less.
The Citizen was fat. The heat affected him quickly. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He removed his jacket.
Agape tried to remain firm, literally, but her flesh was already melting. She tried to be silent, but a moan overtook her.
What should he do? Bane knew that the Citizen would not relent. He wanted Bane's cooperation, and he would gladly sacrifice Agape to obtain it. Yet if Bane cooperated, men he didn't like and didn't want to support would use him and Mach for their benefit.
Purple removed more clothing, baring himself to the underwear. "Sure is hot in here!" he remarked. Indeed, he looked most uncomfortable.
Bane realized that the man was doing it to show that there was no bluffing about the heat. If it had this effect on a living man, it was having worse effect on Agape's less-solid tissue. Indeed, her face was becoming shapeless, and her breasts were sagging deeply.
Purple glanced significantly at her. "Now I don't know the exact tolerance the amoebas have for heat," he said. "But I'd guess that first they settle into a puddle, then they expire. Seems we're about to find out."
"Nay!" Bane cried.
The Citizen looked at him. "Ready to give me your word, boy? No more tricks, full cooperation?"
"No commitment given under duress is valid!" Bane protested.
"Suit yourself, boy. You know how to stop it, before we all fry."
Agape staggered. Her head was now a hideous mass of flesh, and her body was barely human. She stumbled against the Citizen.
"Get away from me, you jellyfish!" Purple snapped.
But Agape wrapped her melting arms about him. "I'm going to consume you!" she hissed through the slit that was all that remained of her face.
Horrified, the Citizen shoved her away with all his strength. But she clung, smearing her dripping surface against him. The two of them spun about in that loathsome embrace, and fell heavily to the floor.
Then Agape came up with the control unit. She touched a button, and the radiation ceased. "Let's conclude this charade," she said, her voice abruptly changing.
"What?" Purple demanded, hauling himself up.
Agape put her free hand to her face and scraped the flesh down and off. Other features appeared beneath. "Do you know me now, fat stuff?" she asked.
"Blue!" the Citizen exclaimed with renewed dismay.
Citizen Blue! Now Bane recognized the likeness of his own father, Stile, emerging from beneath the sagging covering of pseudoflesh.
"Did you think I was stupid enough to leave your monitor in my premises without reason?" Blue asked. "Or to ship the girl unguarded?"
"You suckered me!" Purple said.
"You suckered yourself. Now let's complete our business, shall we?"
Purple grabbed for his control panel, but Blue held it clear. Purple, considerably larger than his opponent, lunged. "Give me that, you midget!"
Blue seemed only to touch the man, stroking the fingers of his left hand across the right side of Purple's neck. But Purple stiffened, then collapsed, unconscious. "A duffer should never charge a Gamesman," Blue said.
"Thou art a Gamesman?" Bane asked. "I thought my father Stile was that."
Blue came across, releasing the fastenings that held Bane to the wall. "So you exchanged again," he said. "Does that mean my son is now the captive of the Purple Adept?"
"Nay; Translucent won the wager that he could obtain my cooperation voluntarily, and now leads the Adverse Adepts, and he gave his word that either of us would be free."
Blue nodded. "I daresay things have changed in twenty years, but I knew Translucent and his young son to be men of their word."
"The one thou didst know as the son be the current Adept, and aye, he be a man of his word. But his purpose be not my father's."
"But if we free thee," Blue said, reverting to the dialect of Phaze that he had known when young, "then the Adverse Adepts will have neither thee nor my son, and neither Agape nor – "
"Nor Fleta," Bane concluded.
"Fleta?"
"She be the filly of Neysa, and I believe Mach loves her. As I love Agape."
Blue pursed his lips. "He loves a unicorn?"
"I think he knew her nature not, at first. She be a most fetching person, vivacious and feeling, in human form."
"Neysa seldom took the human form, and spoke little then," Blue said. "I knew her through mine other self. Yet was she the most worthy of persons."
"She be still," Bane said. "Gray of forelock, now past breeding, but well respected in the Herd her brother governs. But Fleta be expressive in all the ways her dam be not. An Mach took her for human – "
"Here in Proton we are practicing tolerance," Blue said. "I feel not the dismay for such liaison that I might have when young." He went to bend over the fallen Purple. Bane noticed that he did not bend his knees, and remembered that his father said he had been injured in the knees, in his original body. The body that had sired himself, Bane, before returning to Proton. Blue was, physically, his father.
"But when we return to our own frames," Bane said, "I love not the unicorn, friend as she may be, and Mach loves not Agape."
Blue nodded. "There be matters yet to consider. But now we needs must spring thee free of this hole." He had stripped Purple's remaining clothing, leaving him naked, and under his busy hands Purple had assumed the appearance of a blob. Pseudoflesh co
vered his face, leaving only nose-holes for breathing, and his genital region now looked female.
"The Citizen's minions will think he is Agape!" Bane exclaimed, catching on.
"Aye. And I shall play the part of a Citizen," Blue said, donning Purple's clothing. He had to wad and tie some of it underneath, to give the appearance of greater girth, and the loose-fitting shoes did not elevate him to the other man's height, but the resemblance was becoming striking enough.
"The Game!" Bane exclaimed. "Thou didst learn such mimicry for the Game!"
"Aye. Mine other self was the expert, but I thought it meet for me to study it somewhat also, and teach it to my son."
"Would I could learn that Game," Bane said wistfully.
"Thou dost like Proton?"
"It is love of Agape that lures me," Bane admitted. "But aye, I find this frame more challenging than mine own. It be foolishness, I know."
"A foolishness I share," Blue said, smiling. "Now, we both have parts to play. Thou dost remain prisoner, chastened by seeing thy love melt. I am taking thee to safer confinement."
"That part can I play," Bane said. "But surely Purple's minions will not be fooled by thee!"
"There be some distractions," Blue said with a small smile. "It was necessary for me to wait until I knew they were in place, before taking action here. Now shall we see how the magic of science performs." He took some of his surplus pseudoflesh and molded it in the corner, against the locked panel. He set a tiny stick in it and pinched off the protruding end of the stick. "Shield me with thy body," he said, retreating to the far side of the cell. "It be tougher than mine own."
Perplexed, Bane stood as directed, standing between Blue and the pseudoflesh, facing away from it, bracing himself.
There was an explosion. It shoved him into Blue, and both against the wall. Bits of wall and panel were hurled like stones into the other walls. "What happened?" Bane cried.
They recovered their feet. "A trick of the trade," Blue remarked, dusting himself off. "Follow me." He hurried out of the smoking cell, through the shattered panel.
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