Robot Adept

She was cooperating quickly and well! His experience on Moeba had increased his understanding and appreciation of her kind, and now he saw things about her that made him see how his other self could have come to love her. The tiny amoeba in the laboratories of Proton were far from intelligent, but those of Moeba were advanced, and every bit as clever as multicellular life. To think of a microscopic amoeba as the model for Agape was about as accurate as thinking of a single on/off switch as the model for Mach.

He fixed her the usual: a bowl of nutritious mush, that she could digest with her feet. He reminded her of this matter-of-factly, as if bored by it, but the information was important. Agape would not otherwise have known how Fleta had adapted to the amoeboid body.

After she had eaten, he guided her to the bed and lay down with her. Her look of uncertainty was only fleeting; she knew he had reason. He hugged her, and spoke quietly into her ear.

“Message chip. They mean to challenge your legitimacy as a Tourney participant. You must prove you are Fleta.”

“But I don’t know how she played, or anything!” she protested.

“Evidently my kind believes you can authenticate it. But the tapes of this chamber will be requisitioned as evidence. That means—”

“Aye, I know what it means,” she replied.

“I’m not sure you do. You see—”

“A moment, Mach, while I change into something more comfortable,” she said.

He waited, not sure what she had in mind. What he had been trying to tell her was that Mach would have made love to Fleta, and if she was to prove she was Fleta, now, when supposedly unobserved, this was a necessary step. As a robot, he could do what was necessary, without compromising his love for the real Fleta. But could she—?

Her body was melting and changing. Her hair turned black, and a button appeared in her forehead. Her features—

“Fleta!” he exclaimed, amazed. For she was assuming the exact likeness of the unicorn girl, in her human form.

How could she have known that form? Then he chided himself for his doubt: Agape had just spent a good session in Fleta’s body. Of course she had come to know it!

It was evident she also understood the rest of it. Agape loved Bane—but she had just been with Bane, and knew his plan to spy on the Adverse Adepts. She knew that Bane would have to treat Fleta as Mach would have treated her. Now she was ready to emulate that action here: Mach and Fleta, with the female being the pretense-identity, instead of the male. Perhaps there was a certain justice to it.

She smiled at him. “Come, my love. Do what thou must, and I will help thee. I would sleep soon, for I have a game on the morrow.”

She looked like Fleta. She sounded almost like her. She knew his body, because of Bane’s occupancy. She understood the rationale. She was a worthy person. But she was not Fleta, and he could not blank out that knowledge.

Could not? What was he thinking of! He could do just that, with a little spot reprogramming. He did it now, setting up a bypass so that for the next hour he would believe that what he saw was genuine. As a machine he could do that deliberately; he knew that living creatures could sometimes do it unconsciously, blanking out portions of their memory or instilling delusions that seemed real.

“Fleta,” he said, accepting the presence of his love in this frame. He remembered the delight he had had of her in Phaze, after she had learned to accommodate his kind of love-making. He remembered his oath of love to her.

After that, it was easy.

Next day the challenge came: Citizen Purple levied it against Agape. “I submit that this is not the creature from Planet Moeba, but another creature in her body,” he declared. “As such, she is not qualified to participate in the Tourney. Her apparent victory over me must be nulled, and she disqualified and turned over to me for compensation.”

Such a charge would have been dismissed as nonsensical, had a serf made it. A Citizen was another matter. Agape was required to report to a hearing chamber for a settlement with the Citizen.

“But the evil man will grab me!” she protested. “I know not the ways of thy frame, but I know the ways o’ the Adverse Adepts!”

Mach’s temporary circuit had been eliminated; he knew her identity. But how like Fleta she was acting! That time in Phaze had really prepared her.