Unicorn Point

He lowered his face and kissed her. He felt a surge of guilt, thinking of Fleta. But he damped it down, realizing that he really had no choice. Perhaps after playing with him for a time, Tania would lose interest, as a cat did with a dead bird.  Tania broke, with a flicker of irritation. “As if you mean it,” she said. “Again.”

“Whatever I show, I will not mean it,” he said.

“Perhaps not yet,” she repeated, waiting.  He kissed her again, as if he meant it. Unfortunately his circuits were cued to a degree to his actions; it was a feed back loop that normally enhanced his human emulation. That meant that to an extent he did mean it, at least for the moment. This time she was satisfied. “Now speak the formulae,” she said.

“They will be meaningless to you.”

“But they will be recorded. They may not be meaningless to our analysts.”

He doubted that, because in five years no one other than the Oracle had been able to make sense of the strange statements he had brought from the Book of Magic. It was as if the magic were in some alien language that only the Oracle spoke. That was another reason that progress had been so slow.

However, he was obliged to humor her. He spoke the formulae, and Tania listened as if interested. It did not take long.

“Now we shall send the child on her way, and go to the Oracle,” she said.

Nepe! He had almost forgotten her! He was getting more human all the time, and suffering the liabilities of the state.  A true machine forgot nothing that was not expressly erased.  Of course he was no longer a true machine; half his current experience was human, in Phaze. There he was called the Robot Adept (or, as the natives had it, “Rovot”), but he was really a living man with considerable power of magic. Per haps it wasn’t surprising that the human liabilities as well as the human delights carried across the frames.  They emerged to the front office. The child was sitting on the desk, watching a cartoon on the receptionist’s screen, her little legs swinging and tapping the desk.  Nepe looked up immediately. “Were you surprised, Uncle?”

“You knew?” he asked, surprised again.

“Oh, sure. Did she vamp you yet?”

Mach froze, appalled at both the question and Tania’s likely reaction.

“Not yet,” Tania said, laughing.

“Oh, goody! Can I watch, then?”

“But—“ Mach started.

“Certainly,” Tania said. She turned back to Mach, and put her arms around him, drawing herself close. “Kiss me,” she said.

“This is pointless and unnecessary,” he said, not yielding.

“If you don’t,” Tania murmured, “I shall make demands on you that are apt to embarrass you before the child.” He knew her well enough to have no doubt of her sincerity.  Fuming in a manner that would have done credit to a living person, he bent his head to kiss her.

Nepe clapped her hands, applauding. “She’s making you do it!” she exclaimed. “I bet Tsetse she would!”

“Tsetse?” he repeated, chagrined at the openness of this matter.

“Tsetse—my receptionist,” Tania explained, misunderstanding. She pronounced the name as Nepe had, but with the t’s sounded. “I brought in my own personnel, since I am to handle this case. I named her, because she is good at making men sleep. Does she please you?”

“I have no interest in her,” Mach said. What a name to hang on such a pretty woman! Tania’s cruelty was showing.  Tania turned to the woman. “Take Nepe to her ship.”

“No, I’ll do that!” Mach said.

“So you do have an interest in her,” Tania said, “because she affects the welfare of your niece.”

“To that degree,” Mach agreed. What was Tania trying to do? He saw no consistent pattern in her actions.  Tania read his doubt. “I am showing you that there are ways and ways I can affect your interests if you cross me. We have a covenant, and no one will be hurt. But you could have to do things you dislike, and the child could witness things you prefer she did not. Now Tsetse will escort her safely to her ship, and you and I will dally on the way to the Oracle.  Need more be said?”