Pet Peeve

by Piers Anthony

  The villagers were applauding as the demons took Goody and Hannah back. They left Matt and Sam Dog; their mission had been accomplished, except for the delivery of the Pierian Springs water to Pewter's cave. Goody was sure they would honor the deal. And if the two Mundanes had not been completely accepted in the village before, they certainly would be now. Especially by girls with restored panty power.

  Meanwhile it turned out that they were making real progress on the program. Working under Pewter's direction, Gwenny had removed the robot's master chip from its head, and Pewter had analyzed it. Now Pewter was designing a program to provide a conscience, guided by Gwenny's advice. Because Pewter hardly cared about such a thing, but Gwenny did.

  "It's designed like a virus," Gwenny said breathlessly. Goody loved her breathlessness; it had its own magic. "If he—turns out he's male—looks into the lens of another robot, the soul aspect of the program will transfer, and the other robot will have a conscience too. In time, all of them will, and then they will be tolerable neighbors. But we see a problem: if the others catch on too soon, they may try to destroy the souled robots."

  Goody still felt the effect of the Pierian elixir. "Then make him bigger, so they can't. That will also enable us to readily tell him apart from the others, so we know with whom we are dealing."

  She gave him a fast but nice hug and kiss. "Oh, you're so smart, Goody! We'll do that."

  They went out to tell the demons, who popped off to Iron Mountain and brought back loads of defunct iron robot parts. Pewter changed the reality of their shapes to make them fit the existing robot, and he grew until he was full human man sized.

  "We need a name for him," Hannah said. "Beginning with RO. What would be good?"

  "Roland," Tristan said. "Another legendary Mundane hero." The troll was evidently partial to that kind.

  "Roland it is," she agreed. "Roland Robot."

  Pewter extruded the reprogrammed chip. Hannah took it and carried it to the robot. Then, caught by a sudden vapor in the air, she sneezed. Right on the chip. "Oh, no—I've given it a virus!"

  "It is not the same," Tristan said, unconcerned. He took the chip and set it carefully into the robot's enlarged head. He fixed it in place and closed the face-plate. "Now he should be operative. We should test him."

  "Your name is Roland Robot," Gwenny said. "You are now twice as tall as you were, and stronger in proportion. How do you feel?"

  The robot animated. "I feel—strange. I—" He sneezed.

  "The virus!" Hannah wailed. "It is the same! It's my fault."

  Roland's head turned to bear on her. "What phenomenally fair creature is this?" he asked, amazed. Goody wasn't sure how metal features conveyed such emotion, but they did.

  "Just me, Hannah Barbarian. I'm sorry I infected you."

  "I love you."

  "What?"

  "Worship, desire, adore, deify, amour—"

  "But you're a machine!"

  "And you're a ravishingly lovely barbarian woman. Just my type."

  "That infection," Gwenny said, awed. "It oriented the program on her. He really is in love with her."

  Had their seeming success become disaster?

  Roland crossed to Hannah and put his metal arms around her. "Embrace me, beloved. Kiss me with your splendid barbarian passion. I am yours."

  "But I'm alive!" she protested. "You're iron."

  "I must have you, you luscious creature, lest my unrequited desire melt my innards." He put his face-plate to her face, attempting to kiss her.

  "But this is impossible! You don't have lips."

  "And I must possess you, you unutterably exotic delight. Hold me close."

  "But you don't have a—"

  He paused. "So I don't. Make me one. I need it."

  "That'll be the day!" the parody said, finding this hilarious. "The chip needs a poker."

  "The brassy men have brass ones," Roland said. "I can have an iron one."

  "How do you know about brassies?" Hannah asked, surprised.

  "It's in my new improved data bank. A person can't have a conscience without knowing to what it applies. All species of Xanth are there, and all are to be respected on their own terms as long as they don't get in my way. It's the barbarian code."

  "So it is," Hannah agreed. "I like that."

  "Then get me the parts I need to love you completely." He drew her close again.

  "Attaboy, Robbie! Give her an iron smooch!" the peeve said.

  "Com Pewter," Goody said urgently. "Change reality! Abolish the virus."

  "Pewter can change the reality of the locale and the events," Tristan said. "But the robot is governed by the programmed chip. That must be removed and reprogrammed."

  "Then remove it!"

  Tristan approached Roland. "Oh, no," the robot said. "I don't want to be changed. It would deny me the great love of my unlife."

  "If you love Hannah," Gwenny said, "You will want what she wants."

  Roland nodded in the manner Hannah might have. "True. If my love asks this of me, I must obey, though it crack my iron heart."

  "Ask him, Hannah," Goody said.

  But Hannah hesitated. "He's a barbarian male. An iron one, it is true, but still barbarian. And he loves me."

  "Yes, it's in his infected program," Tristan said. "He will never stop, unless that program is changed."

  "And now is the time to change it," Gwenny said. "We need to get it right before we leave this cave. Pewter doesn't give refunds."

  "Ask, beloved. I can deny you nothing, not even the loss of my overwhelming love."

  "I—" She shook her head. "I think I want to explore this further before deciding. Could there be a trial period?"

  "Hannah!" Gwenny said, aghast. "You're not thinking of keeping him like this? Of—of—"

  Hannah blushed, which must have been a considerable effort for her. "I think I want to try it, just in case."

  "But he's a robot!"

  "He's a barbarian male machine. Those are rare."

  "Pewter understands your preference," Tristan said. "Roland, come with me a moment."

  Roland hesitated. "Go with the troll," Hannah said.

  "Kiss me first, adorable."

  "Kiss me first, addlebrain," the parody mimicked.

  She planted a savage kiss on his face-plate.

  "Now I go," he said. "If it be the first and only kiss I have of you, it nevertheless fulfills my fondest desire." He let her go and followed Tristan to another section of the cave.

  "You can't be serious," Gwenny said.

  "A male troll can be decent, a male goblin can be polite," Hannah said. "Why can't a robot be a manly barbarian?"

  "Because he's not alive!"

  "Yet you saved him from extinction, and made a deal to get him a better program. Did you do all that for a dead thing?"

  That set Gwenny back a bit. "But I didn't consider him as a lover."

  "What about as a friend? Didn't you trust him, and he helped you contact Goody?"

  Gwenny considered. "Yes. I suppose you're right. Give him a chance."

  Tristan and Roland returned. Now the robot had a roughly human face, complete with lips, and a subtly revised midsection. "Not all the changes show," Tristan said.

  "You didn't change my program," Roland said.

  "Too bad, rust bucket!" the peeve said.

  Hannah was taken aback. "You thought that was what I wanted?"

  "Barbarian subterfuge. But if it was your desire, I had to let it happen."

  "That's not the way of trust," Gwenny said. "She wouldn't do something like that sneakily."

  "Some people would."

  "Some civilized people," Hannah said. "They lack barbarian honor."

  "True. But most of those here are civilized."

  "You have a healthy distrust of civilization," Hannah said. "I like that." She embraced him and kissed his new metal lips.

  It looked to be some kiss. Roland's limbs quivered and his iron color shifted to a shade of gray. "Oh, you gorge
ous mistress!" he said shakily.

  "Gorgeous what?" Goody asked.

  "Never mind!" Hannah snapped. "Let's go somewhere we can explore this."

  Gwenny murmured something to the troll, who nodded. "Pewter has a pass for the honey side of the moon for three," Tristan said. "You may use it now."

  "For three?" Hannah asked.

  "For you and Roland, and a chaperon."

  "A chaperon! What do you think we're going to do there?"

  "That's why you need one," Gwenny said with three-fifths of a smile. "Goody can do it; I have business back at Goblin Mountain."

  "But I don't—" Goody started.

  Gwenny caught up to him at that point and kissed him. "Just do it, dear."

  Dear? The word stunned him almost like a panty flash. By the time he recovered, he was outside the cave with Roland and Hannah. "You had to be the one," she said. "Because I can't guard you unless we're together."

  "Why is Pewter being so nice? That isn't like him."

  "Gwenny made some kind of deal for the electronic rights to the soul program. Pewter can use them. It seems there may be a huge market in Mundania."

  "Machines with souls," Goody said, seeing it. "Machines that always do the right thing."

  "That would really help with their Outernet."

  The three demons appeared. "Take us to the honey side of the moon," Goody said.

  "You're marrying the Neanderthal?" Metria asked, surprised.

  "Marrying the what?"

  "Barbarian!" Hannah said. "No, he's not. I'm going with Roland."

  Dara eyed him. "This is the robot we brought here?"

  "We upgraded him."

  "I'll take him," Vore said.

  The demons closed about them, and two pats and a squeeze later they stood on the lovely honey side of the moon. The side facing Xanth and Mundania, of course, had long since had its milk curdled to moldy cheese by the sights it witnessed. This was the unspoiled side, a land of milk and honey, conducive to romance.

  Hannah took Roland's hand and led him along a gently curving path between moon flowers. "Tell me more of what you think of me," she said.

  "You are the most graceful of all women, wonderful in ways I wish I could imagine. I would like nothing better than to bask eternally in the joy of your favor."

  "Sickening," the peeve said.

  "That's an interesting revision of the program," Vore said.

  "Not to mention the enhancement of physique," Dara agreed admiringly. "Buns of steel. What happened?"

  "Hannah sneezed on the reprogrammed chip. That gave it a virus. It seems the virus made Roland a barbarian, and in love with her."

  "That's so romantic," Dara said.

  "So now she wants to screw with that nut," the parody said.

  "Do what with what?" Metria asked.

  "I think I'm supposed to prevent that," Goody said uncomfortably. "They're just supposed to get to know each other, while she decides whether to have his program cleared of the virus." He followed the couple.

  Hannah glanced back at him. "Can't you give us a little more room? Three is a—" She paused, an odd look crossing her features and disappearing into her body. "Morgan le Fay?"

  Oops. That was the Mundane sorceress Goody had balked in the dream realm, when she tried to take over Helen of Troy's body.

  "I know that name," Dara said. "She's a mischief maker from way back. She takes over the bodies of attractive women."

  "I thought that was the Sea Hag," Vore said.

  "Morgan's less destructive. She can't force them, exactly. She simply instills a strong desire to do what she wants them to do, and they think it's their own. After a time her wishes become theirs. She's strong on the physical pleasures, not the moral ones. She's been confined to one of the tiered Moons of Ida and wants to find a host in Xanth proper."

  "Odd that she should appear just when we are here," Vore said.

  "Why should I want to get back at Goody Goblin?" Hannah asked, evidently speaking to someone unseen.

  "Because I messed Morgan up," Goody said. "She must have learned my identity."

  "She thinks Hannah's your girlfriend!" Dara said. "So she's infesting her."

  "The word is investing," Hannah's voice said.

  "Like a virus," Goody agreed.

  "No coincidence at all," Vore said. "This is after all where lovers come."

  "We've got to stop this," Goody said. "But I don't know how."

  "Idiot!" the parody said. "Play it through."

  Goody focused, and the bird's meaning clarified. "Roland!" he said. "Hannah has a visitor inside her head, like a new program. The visitor doesn't believe you are romantic. You're her boyfriend. Show her visitor what barbarians are made of. Make love to her."

  "With your iron prong," the parody added encouragingly.

  The robot required no further urging. "Beloved! Be mine!" He embraced Hannah, kissing her avidly. His reworked lips seemed to work just fine.

  "What's this?" Hannah's voice screeched, sounding like someone else, possibly a harpy. "Unhand me, brute!"

  "Ignore her maidenly protestations," Goody called. "She wants to be mastered barbarian style."

  "Outrageous!" Hannah's voice exclaimed as Hannah's body struggled with the iron grip of the robot. "Get your face-plate out of my face, you ludicrous contraption!" But she wasn't having much success in persuading him.

  "Morgan!" Goody said. "Hannah is Roland's girlfriend, not mine. You are doomed to perpetual mechanical love."

  "The bleep I am!"

  Something changed. Roland paused. "Hannah?"

  "She's gone," Hannah said. "What a witch!"

  "You don't want to be mastered?" He sounded disappointed.

  Hannah considered. "Goody, go back to the cave and tell Pewter the present program is all right. We'll stay here for a while or two."

  "But—"

  "We no longer need a chaperon," she said firmly.

  "Take a hint, simpleton!" the parody said.

  Oh. And they were in the place of romance.

  Metria enclosed him and transported him back to the cave. Naturally she squeezed him in especially awkward places. "Ain't love grand," she murmured. "May he never soften."

  Almost, he asked for a clarification of the term, but caught himself in time.

  19

  Peeve

  It was sheer delight waking up in a full goblin bed with Gwenny beside him. "This goes beyond niceness," he said. "I know you made a deal with Com Pewter, but Roland and Hannah's visit to the honeymoon took care of that. Why did he provide us this wonderful private room?"

  "He needs Roland's agreement too, so has to wait until they return."

  "They're still there?"

  "Hannah has been without a man for a long time, and it seems he is indefatigable."

  "Tristan made a working, um, device?"

  "Tristan made an approximate one. Then Pewter changed its reality, following some sort of treatment described on the Mundane Outernet to make it bigger and harder. It surely works."

  "Will it fool the storks?"

  "Oh, I should think so." She kissed him. "Why this interest in them, when you've got me?"

  They had had a remarkable night, but her words alerted him. "Is that a hint?"

  "No. It's a seduction." She rolled onto him, making it literal.

  "Oh Gwenny," he gasped shortly later. "I know I love you. I wish you'd ask me to marry you."

  "In due course. There remains one thing to verify."

  "What is that?"

  "You will know it when it occurs. Meanwhile we still have to place the peeve."

  He had almost forgotten. "The peeve! Where is it?"

  "Entertaining Tristan Troll. Trolls understand attitudes like that."

  "Do you suppose—"

  "No, Pewter doesn't want bird droppings in his cave."

  "Too bad."

  "Now if you're quite done ravishing me—"

  He had to laugh. "I doubt I'll ever be done with that. You
make me feel young again."

  "You're eleven years older than I am. Are you saying I'm getting old?"

  "No, of course not!"

  "So will you tire of me when I do get old?"

  "No!" She was teasing him, but he couldn't help reacting.

  "And you really don't mind that I'm lame?"

  "I don't even notice. But if I did, it wouldn't make a difference. You're beautiful, and you have no trouble with your legs where it counts."

  "Slow walking?"

  "That too."

  "I wish I could dance."

  "Maybe you just haven't found the right dance."

  She kissed him. "Maybe."

  They got up, cleaned up, and went out to see whether the others were back. They were, and Roland had already given his consent for the electronic rights. Both looked about as satisfied as Goody felt.

  "Now let's get that bird a home," Hannah said. "So I can stop guarding you."

  "We had a small diversion," Goody said. "But now we should be able to focus exclusively on that."

  "Lotsa luck, suckers!"

  Goody sincerely hoped the parody's cynicism was unjustified. But he feared it wasn't.

  Soon they were on their way. Goody, Gwenny, Hannah, and Roland. They walked slowly, so that Gwenny had no trouble. They stayed mostly on the enchanted paths. And they focused on the parody.

  They came to a pleasant garden beside the path, tended by a young man. "Hello," Goody said. "That's a nice collection of plants."

  "Thank you," the man said. "It's my talent. I can modify things to other varieties, and modify them again, in a chain."

  "Modify your stupid head."

  Goody hastily explained about the talking bird.

  The man demonstrated. He started with a lily flower, and modified it to a tiger lily that growled and snapped at them. Then he modified it to a purring pussy willow. Then to a stiff cattail. And so on, finally back to a lion lily.

  "That's beautiful," Gwenny said. "Can you modify a bird?"

  "Don't you dare, turnip top!"

  They had to go on, reminded of just how difficult it was to place the parody. "Do you actually want to find a home?" Goody asked it.

  "Sure, if that gets rid of you, slacker."

  But Goody had to wonder. A good home might leave the peeve nothing to be peeved about. It wouldn't like that.