Unicorn Point

They were at the Tan Adept’s office precisely on time. Serfs were always punctual when dealing with Citizens, because a rapid process of selection eliminated all who were not. The normal manner of elimination was firing, which meant that the serf had to leave the planet unless he could find a new employer—a forlorn hope. But there were few questions when serfs simply disappeared, though all knew this could not hap pen by the serfs choice. No serf ever gave any Citizen reason for annoyance if it was possible to avoid it.  As it happened, Mach had given Citizen Tan reason for annoyance, and Fleta (in Agape’s body) had given him reason for rage. But they had survived because Mach was an essential resource and Agape was under his protection. Bane (in Mach’s body) and Agape called themselves married, but this was an affectation; there was no marriage among serfs, merely an informal tolerance of a continuing association. If the closeness of Bane and Agape ever abated, she would have to get offplanet in a hurry, for her protection would be gone.  There seemed to be no danger of any separation, considering the presence of Nepe; nevertheless. Agape normally remained well clear of Citizen Tan.

They were on time, but the Citizen was late. That was the Citizen’s prerogative. They waited in the office antechamber, watching the pretty and efficient human secretary brush her lovely hair. This was not any abuse of her position; it was a tacit demonstration by the Citizen that he had no legitimate use for her, and maintained her only for show or for any other purpose he chose. A serf with a brush was unusual, and none would perform any personal toiletry on the job without the express directive of the employer. The implication was that the person waiting for the appointment was virtually nonexistent; not even the secretary cared for his opinion.  Tan did not like Mach, but had to work with him. Their direct encounters were always formal and polite; the animosity showed only in this indirect fashion. Tan was making Mach wait—and Mach had brought a visitor. No other serf would have had the audacity, perhaps not even Bane. But Mach knew his power, and used it to counter the subtle manifestations of the Citizen’s ire.

Why had Tan chosen to be the one to work with him? That had always been a mystery. The Contrary Citizens could have arranged to have any of their number, or some trusted high placed serf, deal with Mach and Bane, yet it was Tan. Tan, whose genitals Agape’s body had squeezed during Fleta’s escape from him, before Bane had joined the Citizens and thereby guaranteed her safety. No other person had ever committed such an act against a Citizen and lived a day, let alone five years!

“Gee, you’re pretty!” Nepe said to the receptionist.  The receptionist glanced at a panel on her desk before answering. Discovering no signal of negation there, she smiled.  “Thank you, Nepe.” Indeed, she was more than pretty; she was as well formed and featured as a serf could get, considering that serfs were allowed no enhancements. Her hair was silvery and shoulder length, almost shining, and her gray eyes seemed almost like silver too. Mach had not seen her before; she either was new, or had been transferred in from another office.

“Howd you know my name. Tsetse?” She pronounced it “Setsy,” with the accent on the first syllable. Mach knew the word as the name of a fly, the carrier of sleeping sickness, and wondered how the woman had come by it.  Again the secretary glanced at her panel, careful to say nothing not authorized. “We know all who associate with your uncle,” she replied.

“You mean you watch us?”

“Yes. To be sure that nothing happens to you.”

The child shrugged. “Not close ‘nough.”

Then the secretary did a delayed doubletake. “How did you know my name?”

“Uncle Mach told me.”

Mach would have jumped, had he been alive. He had not even known the woman’s name before Nepe gave it! What mischievous game was the child playing?  Then a signal flashed. “The Citizen will see you now,” the secretary said. “Nepe will remain here.”

“Of course,” Mach said, though he did not like this. He knew better than to counter any directive of the Citizen, but if Nepe were subjected to any ill treatment, even purely psychological, Mach would be in an extremely difficult position.

“I’ll be okay. Uncle,” Nepe said brightly. “Tsetse’s nice.” Mach hoped so. He braced himself and stepped through the opaque force-curtain into Citizen Tan’s inner office.  Tan was standing, garbed as usual in his tan robe, his hair tinted tan, and his eyes matching. He was actually a fairly handsome figure of a man, and Mach suspected that the lovely new secretary really did not mind the uses to which he surely put her. But he was arrogant in the manner of most Citizens, and ruthless, and he used women as he used men: with complete indifference to their sensitivities.

“Sir,” Mach said respectfully.

“You have the information?”

“Yes, sir.”