Robot Adept

“I be not apt at the game,” Bane said.

“But thy potential be Mach’s, in his body,” Fleta said. “And his be thine, in thy body. An we exclude not magic from the games, with Mach a duffer there—”

“Training,” Translucent said. “Go to experts of Proton for training. They will do their honest best.”

“Better yet,” Trool said. “Go to the Oracle.”

Now Bane was stunned. The legendary Oracle! The magical entity that had guided his father’s career in Phaze. The Oracle knew everything—and it was now in Proton, in the guise of a computer, guiding Blue’s dominance of that frame. If he could not prevail with the Oracle’s help, he could not do so at all. “Aye.”

“But the equivalent in Phaze be the Book of Magic,” Translucent said. “And that be not in our power.”

“An Bane be trained by the Oracle,” Trool said, “I will lend thee the Book of Magic, for the training o’ Mach only.”

This time it was the Translucent Adept who was stunned. “That be the mainstay o’ thy power!”

“Aye. Canst make oath to abuse it not?”

Translucent considered, and there was a faint shimmer about him. “Nay. Canst give me access to it in thy Demesnes?”

Now Trool the Troll considered, and the shimmer was about him. “Aye,” he said at last.

“Then can I agree,” Translucent said. “Troll, we be on different sides, but I would be friends with thee.”

“Aye,” Trool said.

Translucent stepped out of his bubble, and it dissolved into vapor. He walked across to Trool, extending his hand. The troll accepted it.

Then Trool turned back to Bane. “Does Mach agree?”

“Ask him,” Bane said. He stepped back into overlap. New challenge, he thought. They will explain. Then they made the exchange.

Chapter 10 Filly?

« ^ »

Mach felt the change, and knew it was now Agape he held. She had returned to her proper frame, and could return also to her own world of Moeba.

He disengaged. “I had better acquaint you with recent events here,” he said.

“Aye,” she agreed.

He looked at her, startled.

She laughed. “No, I am Agape. I have a story of my own to tell.” She looked around the chamber. “But is it safe to talk?”

“It’s supposed to be.” But now he remembered how Citizen Purple had caught on to Fleta’s identity. Had it been a good guess, or had information leaked from this chamber? The Game Computer could overhear everything, of course; Mach had trusted its discretion, but Citizens did have extraordinary powers.

She read his doubt. Then she hugged him. “Let us whisper, in that case. I have learned things about enmity.”

“You are in the Tourney,” he whispered in her ear.

She drew back her head and looked at him again, startled.

“It was the only way to protect Fleta from the Contrary Citizens—and even then, it was close. But you need not worry; you can lose and be shipped home to Moeba. You know the planet better than she does.”

She smiled, agreeing.

There was a knock on the entry panel. Both of them glanced at it, startled. Who would knock, instead of using the screen to communicate?

Mach went to the panel and opened it. There stood a cleaning machine. Since when did such service devices knock?

The machine’s speaker murmured a code. Then Mach understood: this was a self-willed machine masquerading as a mindless one. It extended a tiny package.

Mach took the package and folded it into his palm. Then the machine rolled on down the hall, and Mach closed the panel and turned to face Agape, making a small gesture toward his lips with a finger: silence.

She understood. She shrugged, and went to the food dispenser. He quickly opened the package, removed the electronic chip inside, and slid it into an aperture that opened under his left arm.

The message was stark: CONTRARY CITIZENS WILL CHALLENGE AGAPE AS FALSE ENTRY, DISQUALIFY HER, TAKE HER INTO THEIR CUSTODY. SHE MUST DEMONSTRATE SHE IS FLETA. TAPES OF THE CHAMBER TO BE REQUISITIONED AS EVIDENCE FOR HEARING. ACT ACCORDINGLY.

Assimilation took only an instant. Now he understood why the contact had been physical and masked: a communication through the screen would have become part of the requisitioned evidence. The Contrary Citizens were still after Agape, and would not let her get to her home planet, now that he had nullified their trap there.

She had to prove she was Fleta? Evidently the Citizens had caught on, but did not know that the girls had exchanged back. He trusted the judgment of his kind; he would do as they recommended.

Meanwhile, Agape was about to operate the food controls. He hurried over. “Fleta, you should know better than to try to work that thing yourself; you’ll foul it up. Let me do it. What would you like?”

She masked her surprise. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently urged her to the side. As he let go, he tapped the spot under his arm where he had inserted the message chip. She nodded almost imperceptibly. Fleta might have been confused, but Agape understood his machine nature.

“The usual,” she said. “I thank thee.”