Robot Adept

“Nay, it be but luck,” she protested. “I fear for each new contest, that I may muff what I might have played well.”

“Which is exactly the attitude of a superior games man.” He smiled. “In any event, you have to get through only one more, and then you can exchange.”

“One more—and then be separated from thee,” she said, with mixed emotions.

Her Round Four match was against a Citizen. Fleta saw him approaching the console with horror; how could she defeat such an opponent? Furthermore, she recognized him: he was the Purple Adept, here known as Citizen Purple.

Now she knew that the Contrary Citizens had caught on to her identity, and somehow arranged to get close to her within the Tourney. If she lost this one. Purple would have her, and Mach would be helpless. The alliance of Citizens and Adepts would have both sides of it, and Bane and Mach would have to work wholly for them. Their noose was closing.

Purple looked at her, and grinned. “I mean to have your hide, animal,” he said. “You have led a charmed existence, but I have a score to settle.” Terror coursed through her. This man was serious—and deadly. Mach had said something about the way Agape had escaped captivity by this man, and Mach himself had escaped, in a violent confrontation. Certainly Purple had a score to settle—and she knew he was an evil man.

“Thou canst not touch me in the Tourney,” she said with as much bravado as she could muster. She had to cling to the console, for her knees were melting.

“But the moment you wash out, as you are about to, I shall preempt the deportation process and take you with me,” he said. “Citizenship hath its privileges.” Could he do that? She feared he could. The Game Computer had protected her from external threats, but could not bar a legitimate contestant, and Citizens did have special powers. She had to win! But could she?  She greatly feared that this man had her number, as the serfs put it.

Her screen showed that she had the letters. That meant she could choose ANIMAL. But Purple would be ready for that, and have some devastating trap ready.  What, then, was left? What she understood least was MACHINES, having had no experience with them prior to her meeting with Mach. Purple knew that too, and he was of course thoroughly conversant with the most sophisticated machines. It would be folly for her to choose that category.

So it was between NAKED and TOOL. In her own unicorn body she would have been confident with NAKED, but in this Amoeba body she was doubtful.  It was a wonderful body, but she hardly understood it well enough to trust it to direct physical competition—and she was afraid that that was exactly what Purple would choose. TOOL? That could be anything, including weapons; he was surely skilled with those, while she understood only the weapon of her horn—which she lacked, here. She seemed to have no good choices!  But maybe she could surprise him! With sudden re solve, she touched the very worst of her choices: MACHINE.

He had chosen PHYSICAL, as she had surmised.  Maybe Mach was right: she did have a touch for the Game, being able to judge her opponent’s likely choice.  But she was still stuck in a box she didn’t like.  She hoped she would get the numbers, this time, so she could avoid INTERACTIVE or COMBAT and perhaps COOPERATIVE; she wanted no contact with this brutal man!

Luck did not help her. She got the letters again, and had to choose between E. EARTH   F. FIRE G. GAS and H. H2O. She had learned that EARTH meant a flat surface, such as a ball could roll on, and that FIRE meant a variable surface that a stick might help to cross, and GAS meant a broken surface, such as might have been carved up by a knife, and that H2O meant water, where anything went. She didn’t trust any of them, but as a unicorn she preferred the flat surface, such as might be grazed or run on. Therefore she avoided that, still trying to surprise the Citizen, to get into some combination that, however bad it might be for her, would be worse for him. So she touched FIRE, with a sense of futility.

He had chosen 6. INTERACTIVE. Thus they were in 1C6F: Machine-assisted physical activity on a variable surface, interactive. That, when they played through the choices, turned out to be SNOWMOBILE BUMPING.

“Well,” Purple said, making a motion as of lathering his hands. “It will be a pleasure to return to this sport.” She realized that she had nothing to lose except the game, and her freedom. There was no point trying to placate the Citizen, but perhaps she could learn some thing from him. “Thou wast good at this?”

“I was good at everything, in my youth,” he said.  “But especially mountainside sports, because of my association with the mountain range.”