Robot Adept

“I brought a good paddle carved by the Red Adept,” he said. “It has perfect heft and balance, and I can play well with it.”

“We shall see,” she said. “Let me change into something more comfortable.” She spun around, her skirt flaring, showing her legs up to the thickening region of the thighs, and walked to the tanion tree. Mach, accustomed all his prior life to naked serfs, was amazed at how much a little clothing could do for a woman.

Tania had not looked nearly as enticing naked in Proton.

Fleta’s foot came down, just missing his toe. “What be thou looking at, machine?”

“Uh—”

“She knew we were coming,” she hissed. “Why did she change not before?”

“Remember, I’m supposed to get her to lend me the paddle,” Mach said. “I have to seem interested, though of course I am not.”

“Thou couldst have fooled me,” she muttered. Soon Tania reappeared, garbed in tight tan shorts that made her nether portion seem almost bare, and a translucently loose blouse. “This be better, methinks,” she murmured.

“She thinks!” Fleta sniffed.

After a moment Mach noticed that Tania carried a paddle. She was evidently ready to play.

There was a chamber in an alcove of the tree, and the table was there. Tania took a stance at one end. “Do it to me,” she invited.

“Nay, an I could…” Fleta breathed wrathfully.

There was a ball on the table, wedged by the net. Mach fetched it, and served it. He had not played this game in this body, but his motions were good; either his experience or Bane’s reflexes made the play easy.

Tania jammed her paddle at the ball somewhat jerkily; it was obvious that she was not an apt player. But the ball came back; she had made the return.

He struck the ball again, getting the feel of it and the paddle and his body. Again she was somewhat awkward, but returned it. Obviously she would soon miss, though.

He struck it the third time, angling it across the table. She stretched, almost losing her balance, and he thought she was going to hit the ball well wide—but it returned neatly enough.

Curious, he slammed it off the right corner. She blocked it in a pure reflex of self-defense—and the ball looped back to the center of his side of the table, another fair return. How had she done it?

In the course of the next several volleys, he discovered that no matter how awkwardly she moved her paddle, the ball always made a good return. He finally missed his own shot, trying too hard to make her miss. The skill was not in her, but in the paddle: that was its magic. It would not miss a point.

He lost the game, winning no points at all. He could not prevail against the magic paddle.

Tania smiled as she won. “What wouldst thou give for this paddle, rovot?” she inquired, her bosom heaving. “To use ‘gainst Bane in thy tourney?”

She had a double score to settle with Bane, he realized: he was on the other side, and he had resisted her attempt to fascinate him. She would lend Mach the paddle; she was just trying to see what else she might profit from the transaction. Meanwhile, he had Fleta to contend with.

“Nothing, Tania,” he said gruffly. “There will be three games; it could only win one of them for me. If I depend on magic, I will lose. I need to hone my playing skill, and you are unlikely to do that for me.”

Tania’s face transformed in the course of his speech from self-satisfied to furious. “Take it then, golem-brain; I care not!” And she hurled it at him.

He caught it. “If you insist, Tania.”

She glared, evidently ready to use her magic on him. He snapped his fingers, and a full-length mirror appeared before her, reflecting her outraged visage back to her. Then he turned his back and walked with Fleta away from the table and the tree.

“Methinks that were not wise, Mach,” she said, satisfied.

“Better an angry woman than an angry unicorn,” he said. “She was supposed to demonstrate the paddle, not try to vamp me. I tried to be polite, but she pushed her luck.”

Fleta was silent, but her anger was gone.

Mach found practice with the animal heads. Most of these supported Stile, but one aberrant faction did not, and one of the best table tennis players of the frame was a member of that faction. This was an elephant head, who held the paddle in his trunk, and manipulated it marvelously well.

Against Eli the elephant head Mach used his regular paddle, the one Trool had carved. It had no magic, but was an excellent instrument. Mach played well, very well, for the reflexes of Bane’s body were good. But Eli tromped him; his control was superlative. This was the one who could teach him improved play without magic.

But Mach used magic, not to make returns, but to improve his own perception and stamina. To enable himself to learn, to become a better player.