Robot Adept

She made an eyeball on the end of the pseudopod, and peered through a vent in the top of her container. All she saw was other containers, similar to her own. She started to extend her eye farther, so as to see more.

“Unsafe,” a voice said immediately. “Wait. Hide.”

She dissolved the pseudopod and settled down. If the Citizens were tracing the possible routes of her shipment from the waste chute, it would be dangerous to manifest now. They must have her stored in a warehouse, until the search passed. She would be lost among all the sludge containers. That was good.

She had nothing to do, so explored her own parameters further. She discovered that there were patterns in her memory for a number of set forms, and that she could fairly readily modify these for specific effects. Thus she could emulate a human being, the pattern being for the form she had found herself in when she exchanged to Proton, but could also change that form so that she remained human but did not resemble the original form. She could become almost anyone, if she had a representation to copy from.

Agape was very like a unicorn, slower in her changes, and limited to a fixed mass, but more versatile within that mass. Of course Fleta preferred her own body—but here in Proton, the amoeba body might be better.

Time passed, and nothing happened. She grew bored, and then sleepy. This was actually the sleep format of this body, and this time she didn’t have to worry about melting off the bed.

She was awakened by the resumption of motion. She started to stir. “Remain quiescent,” a machine voice ordered.

She did so, but was alert. Her container was loaded onto another vehicle, which then moved a short distance and stopped. She was unloaded and wheeled to yet another chamber.

Then at last the directive came: “Form into humanoid semblance.”

She invoked the process of human body formation, which included the hardening of columns of flesh into the equivalent of bones and joints and the development of the key apparati of perception and communication, as well as the humanoid skin tones. Agape must have worked hard to develop this pattern, and had done an excellent job! Fleta never would have been able to do it, had she had to develop the pattern herself. Soon she stood as Agee, the office android.

She was in another warehouse chamber, much like the prior one, alone.

“Modify to male,” the speaker said. It was a grill set in the ceiling.

Fleta spluttered as the import registered. “Male?”

“Affirmative.”

She had never thought of such a thing! But she realized that probably the pursuing Citizens had not thought of it either. She discovered that there was a pattern for humanoid male, so she invoked it.

Her breasts shrank, until they were mere nipples set in her chest. Her hips melted and reformed, contracted. Her genital region became jelly, then drooped. It formed a penis and scrotum, neither functional, but similar externally to those of male serfs. Her shoulder-length mane shrank into briefer tonsure.

“Modify to this image,” the grill said. An image formed in the air before her, of an unfamiliar man.

She studied the details of the man, changing her configuration to match. The hair was yellow, the body slender and tall, the chest hairy, the eyes blue.

“Less buttock,” the grill said.

Oh. She worked on that region, shrinking the dual masses further.

“Follow the line to the Game Annex,” the grill said.

“But where is Mach?” she asked. “I need his advice!”

“Mach is being watched. You must qualify alone. You will be secure as long as your identity is not suspected. If you qualify for the Tourney, you will be secure until you are eliminated.”

And thereafter, if she returned directly to Moeba. Theoretically. She hoped Mach intercepted her before that happened!

She walked along the line. It led her from the warehouse and through a passage and into a concourse where other serfs walked. They were following lines too; it seemed that this was a standard way to show them where to go, as they went to the Game Annex.

She remembered the Lympics of Phaze, in which the various major species competed for honors. She had hoped to enter the Unilympics, for she was fleet of foot, and also could play her horn well. She had been working on a duet with herself, accompanied by an intricate hoof-tap pattern, that she thought could be a contender in the marching music division. But now, in Proton, in an alien culture and an alien body, none of that applied.

If she won entry to the Tourney, she would in time find herself confined to the alien planet. If she lost, she could be caught and tortured by the Contrary Citizens, to make Mach do their will. Or Bane, because they thought she was Bane’s love; they already had Mach’s cooperation, if they but knew it. What a complicated confusion!

She arrived at the Annex. Her line led to a console. A young man stood at the other side: her assigned opponent.