Key to Survival

Chapter 26 Sphere

Gale was the Glamor on call when the machines got in touch. "Truce."

She stared at the screen. There was a bright metallic sphere. It was a machine, but the form was new. "Question?"

"I am Sphere, gender male, a supervisory level machine. I wish to cooperate with a Glamor on a project of mutual interest."

Cooperate? That was not a term the machines had used before. They had sent fifths, robots, and attack craft, always in efforts to gather information, gain advantage, persuade, threaten, or demonstrate superiority. The closest they had come to cooperation was when they had let the humans participate in their planetary survival test, and when they had given Havoc and Red the tour of their world of origin. Was this a follow-up on that?

"I am the Glamor Gale, Queen of Charm."

"We know of you. You suffice for this purpose, Queen Gale."

They had navigated the amenities, establishing their separate authorities. The machines knew that what Gale agreed to, Havoc would agree to, and possibly Voila. So what was their ploy, this time? "Clarify this mutual interest."

"We may have found the world of the fugitive Makers."

Gale felt her jaw dropping. "Surprise," she said, in a phenomenal understatement as she touched the button to alert Ennui. Ennui would soon have all the Glamors tuning in to this dialogue. "And why do you tell us, rather than destroying it outright?"

"We do not destroy Makers," Sphere responded primly, his surface flashing. "We serve them."

"Which still destroys them, only more slowly."

"We regret that this has been the case in the past. We are capable of program modification, with the aid of the Makers. We assume these have not lost their edge, and would prevent us from perpetrating that slow destruction."

"If they even let you get near them."

"This is one of two reasons we wish the assistance of a Glamor. You could approach the Makers."

"Question: What is your second reason?"

"We also need the assistance of a Glamor to investigate without being observed. It is possible that these are not the Makers, in which case they are of no use to us."

"In which case you can destroy them without further concern."

"Agreement."

"You're not much for irony, are you?"

"It is superfluous."

Gale considered briefly. She could not be sure how long this window of opportunity would last. If the machine broke off the dialogue, the location of the possible Maker planet would be lost. "I will cooperate with you on this mission, with two conditions."

"Agreed."

"You haven't heard my conditions!" she exclaimed.

"I know them already."

Was this arrogance or delusion? Machines were not known for either. "Clarification."

"First: that the residents of that planet be spared if they are not Makers. Second, that there be a mechanism of mutual trust."

Gale stared at the machine. He had nailed it. "You do know my nature," she said ruefully.

"Agreement."

"What mechanism of trust?"

"I will trust my isolated body to your care for the duration. I will carry your ikon."

The thing had scored again. If the two of them went alone to the planet, she would be able to destroy him. But she could not go without an ikon bearer. This was mutual dependency with a vengeance. And, all things considered, it was fair.

"Agreement," she said. "But for the record I want it understood that we remain enemies with different objectives, and in the future will be seeking to destroy each other directly or via our cultures."

"Accepted. I will come to you alone. There is a wormhole beside your pyramid."

There was? The machines knew more about Planet Charm than was comfortable. They could have sent a bomb. "I will meet you there."

Sphere faded from the screen. He was making the rendezvous.

Gale did not bother to talk to the other Glamors. She knew they were attuned, letting her handle it. If the machines played it straight, so would they.

She conjured herself to the ground outside Pyramid City, beyond the lake. She spread her sensing, and located Sphere. She walked across to join him.

He was not as tall as she, but massive considering his compact shape. "Greeting, again, Sphere," she said.

"Acknowledged, Gale." He used no visible translator; it was evidently built in.

"Presumption: you do not have a direct route to the Maker planet. There will be several wormhole jumps."

"Affirmation. Protocol requires caution. We will not reveal a location your ships could travel to. Here are the coordinates for my ship."

"If I am to transport you there, I will have to touch you, much as I prefer not to."

Something poked out from the surface without breaking it. It formed into a human style hand. "Aversion reciprocated."

She took the hand in hers. It was neither cold nor hard; it felt exactly like a real human hand.

"My daughter will bring my ikon."

In a moment Vila appeared, walking around the pond, in answer to a telepathic summons.

"Give Sphere the ikon," Gale said, releasing the hand.

The girl hesitated only momentarily before putting the tiny mossball into the machine's hand. Then she turned and walked away.

"Telepathy is one of the things we can use, on this quest," Sphere said as the hand disappeared. In a moment it reappeared without the ikon.

Gale took the hand again and conjured them both to the ship. They were in a spacious chamber with breathable air. "Appreciation for your courtesy," Gale said tightly. She could have handled vacuum, but this was considerably more comfortable.

"I wish to facilitate this mission despite my dislike of dealing directly with an alien life form. The ship will make the next jump."

"You know that once it does, I will not only know the route, but will be be able to duplicate it myself."

"Not without your ikon."

"I would take you along, if necessary."

"Conceded. But needless. I will deliver you safely back to your planet when the mission is done. It is a corollary of our temporary mutual trust."

The machine was serious. "Appreciation," she said coldly.

"There will be a delay as the ship goes to a wormhole. Do you desire anything for the interim?"

"You know them already."

The nearby wall and floor contorted into an easy chair. A frothing glass of green drink appeared. Gale settled into the chair and sipped the drink. It was excellent pistachio wine.

She looked at Sphere. "And?"

"You insist?"

She was bugging him, as intended. "Affirmation."

His shape shifted, poking out assorted projections. These formed into arms, legs, and a head. Then the main portion compressed into a humanoid torso. Soon he stood there: an excellently proportioned naked metal man.

Adonis as an animated statue. "Clumsy form."

"Curiosity," Gale said, glancing at his groin. She wanted to make him balk. That would be a point for her.

"Disgust." But a penis and scrotum sprouted there.

"And?"

The penis filled out and lifted, becoming a respectable erection. The sight was a perverse turn-on, like an erotic statue, but she suppressed her reaction. This was not the occasion.

"So you are capable of sex." She had suspected it, because the robots the machines had sent were. Also, why have male and female machines, if not to facilitate such interaction?

"Affirmation."

"But why have gender at all, since machines are made, not conceived?"

"The Makers set us up that way. The lowest level functionaries are neuter, but all machines above a certain threshold are gendered. It is the standard pattern."

"And you do not question what the Makers established?"

"We can not question, only obey."

"Remain intact," she said. "But don clothing and settle down." Sphere had won this round by not balking, and his answers seemed honest. That triggered some unwilling respect.

Clothing appeared. Sphere dressed as another easy chair formed. He sat in it.

"Why did you send the robots?" she asked as she continued sipping her drink. "Demonstration. Persuasion. Accommodation."

"They have all become lovers. Even the five bath girls Havoc stole. He enjoys them." Would that nettle the machine?

"They are a tiny fraction of the service we can render your species, if you give us what we want."

"My daughter Voila."

"Agreement."

"It is quite unlikely that Voila will join you."

"Disagreement. Our view of the future suggests that we will work together."

Gale had to suppress her annoyance, lest the machine's baiting score a point. She changed the subject. "Shee is now a Glamor."

"Agreement. We are surprised. We thought such a thing impossible."

"Glamors specialize in the impossible. You sent Shee as an example of what you could do. We made her a Glamor as an example of what we can do." Take that, machine.

"Glamors can do what machines can not. A machine Glamor is a most interesting artifact."

"So it seems your warning has been reversed."

"Glamors are our primary perplexity. We are unable to account for them, and do not know how to handle them. We distrust things we don't understand."

This was unusual candor. "This is why you treat us with respect."

"Correct. At first we thought that if a Glamor performed when we could record the magic flux involved, we could fathom the mechanism. But it became evident that the mechanism is beyond our fathoming. We have no alternative except to work with Glamors."

"Much as the prospect pains you."

"Agreement." Again that lack of response to irony.

"We will not help you destroy all other life in the galaxy."

"That destruction will stop when we find the Makers."

Which was of course the ultimate power play. It was like a madman killing innocent hostages until the authorities agreed to his demands. Unfortunately there was no higher authority in the galaxy. Except, possibly, the remnant Makers. Who it seemed would not intervene.

"The Makers are surely aware of it, and know that they can stop it merely by identifying themselves and letting you serve them. Why do you suppose they do not?"

"They do not wish to become flaccid in the manner of those who remained behind."

"For that independence they will sacrifice a galaxy?"

"We doubt it. They must inevitably be found, for we are checking every culture. Then we will have their rationale."

Just as the machines had checked Charm, with the fifths, the memory project, scout boats, and the robots. To be sure the Makers were not there. The machines were thorough. Surely they would eventually find the Makers, even if they had to destroy every other living culture to do it. The machines had no compassionate limits.

By similar token, the machines were not bound to tell the truth about their motives. They could want to locate the Makers to destroy them, and if the Makers knew that, no wonder they did not make themselves known, even to save the galaxy.

Gale tried another tack. "You knew the Makers for tens of thousands of years before that contingent departed, and the remaining ones for another fifty thousand years. You have not learned how they think?"

He still did not react to her barbs. "The ones that left are different. We do not fathom their thought. That is why we need them."

"Yet they reject you. It must be supremely frustrating."

"Acquiescence."

Gale was exploring near future paths as they talked. Most were dull. A few were interesting. She followed up on an interesting one. This would really force an issue. "If you could have anything at all, at this time, Sphere, what would it be?"

"The successful completion of this mission." Wrong path. "Apart from that."

The machine paused. That was unusual. He was searching his mind for the answer to a question he had never anticipated. That was of course why she had asked it.

Finally he spoke. "I would choose to experience genuine emotion."

"I can't give you that. But I can perhaps give you a simulated emotion. Maybe that will be a guide to some subsequent real emotion."

"We have simulated emotions. They are programmed. Pleasure in service is a primary one. But we know they are not what living creatures experience."

She was getting interested in spite of her hostility. "I am not sure of that. Emotions in living creatures are the product of stimulated spot chemistry. Emotions in machines are stimulated spot circuits. They may differ in origin, but not necessarily in application."

"Conceded." He was trying to avoid confrontation. He needed her cooperation for his mission, so sought to avoid alienating her.

She felt no obligation to avoid a quarrel. She had a tactical advantage, and she intended to exploit it. "You are male. Do you have male drives? Such as for sexual interplay with a female?"

"Those circuits are available for invocation at need."

Just as the empathy circuit was for Shee and Ikon. Once invoked, it did not allow them to cancel it. Could sexual desire be a similar trap?

Most paths were dull. Only one suited her purpose. Gale wished she could see beyond a few minutes, to understand the long-range complications. She would just have to play it through and find out.

Gale stood and removed her clothing. "Look at me, Sphere. I am a beautiful human woman. You are in assumed human form, and of the male gender. It is natural for you to desire me. Invoke that circuit." Half the newly opening paths had him balking. Those were the dull ones.

"As you request."

"Strip and come to me."

He did. His penis was coming erect; he did desire her.

"Kiss me."

He did so. He felt completely masculine.

"Handle me."

He stroked her breasts and bottom. His member became rigid. The machines were crafted to react the way living members of the species would. "Now what do you most desire?"

"To possess you. I state this reluctantly as you are unclean living flesh."

Victory. She did not want to have sex with him either, but her desire to embarrass him, to the extent possible with a machine, prevailed. She got on the seat, which straightened into a bed. "Possess me," she said, spreading her legs.

He got on the bed with her. He oriented his member, ready to enter her, but paused.

"Problem?" Was he balking at last? The paths remained split, and she could not be sure because the selection was now up to him. "I am unable to complete the act."

"Frustrating?"

"Agreement!"

Then she remembered. It wasn't his aversion to the act. "It is the ikon. You can't touch my core when it is in your core. Put it in a hand and extend the hand from your body, away from me."

One arm sank back into his torso. Then it emerged, holding the ikon. He held it well to the side.

Gale drew him down and helped his member enter. Then he thrust, once, and shuddered, experiencing the programmed orgasm.

She guided him, rolling him over so that she bestrode him, still connected, so that his greater weight would not crush her. She kissed him again. "Emotion?"

"Love!" This was marvelously accurate programming, for human men did tend to react to sex this way.

"Does this seem unreal?"

"Negation!"

"But I am your enemy." She was needling him.

"I would prefer this status be ameliorated. You have stirred an unfamiliar reaction."

"Then you are experiencing genuine emotion, with mixed desire, pleasure, and regret. It may not endure, as you deactivate the relevant circuits, but for the moment it is real."

"Appreciation." This time she suspected he meant it.

She drew herself off him. "My contribution to the truce. Perhaps we will do this again some time."

"You have instilled the desire. For the emotion as much as the sex." This was absolute candor.

She did not need to wipe herself off, for there had been no emission, only her own contributing juices. Ikon had emissions, but he had been crafted specifically for human interaction. Sphere was more general purpose. She had not climaxed; that had not been the point of this exercise. "The lesson of the hour: a Glamor can dominate a machine, one way or another." That was the point.

She dressed.

"Agreement." He got up and dressed also. "I have comprehensive data on you and all human Glamors, but this particular incident was not indicated."

"Candor," Gale said as they settled back into the chairs. "I searched the near future paths to find one that would surprise you. Your kind and our kind are at war; we are enemies. We operate under a spot truce and will not betray each other, but you had no expectation of a friendly association, let alone a sexual one. So I sought that path. I did it to demonstrate my power."

"Repeat: we do not know how to handle Glamors. They are formidable in ways we are not. We wish to learn."

"There are Glamors among the other living cultures. You have not offered to spare them from destruction."

"The species may be destroyed. The Glamors will survive. We do not need to spare their cultures."

That hadn't occurred to her, but it was surely true. Glamors could survive the extinction of their cultures.

"Machine logic."

"Agreement."

"Regardless of the outcome of this mission, I hope to send you back to your kind with an appreciation of the value of life. What the machines are doing is unconscionable."

"What we are doing is practical."

"One of the reasons you don't understand us is that you don't understand empathy."

"Agreement."

"One of the steps we took to make Shee a Glamor was to give her an empathy circuit."

"The Makers did not provide us with this. They surely had reason."

"And you are forever limited to what the Makers made of you."

"Correct."

"I find that curious. I should think they could readily have provided that."

"They could have. We conjecture that they limited us deliberately so that there would never be a blurring of the line between living and machine mentality."

Gale considered that. "Sense, perhaps." She thought of another aspect. "Can you assume the Maker physical form?"

"Negation."

"You can assume human form, an I presume others, but not the prime one? Were they afraid they would not be able to tell the physical difference any more than the mental one?"

"Clarification: we can make machines in the Maker image, and commonly do. These serve largely as sexual companions for Makers who are not appealing to living Makers. But we do not make controlling machines in that likeness, or with the capacity for that likeness. I am a controlling machine."

Gale remembered Havoc's report on the necessary procreation of the Makers: they had to breed a hundred offspring just to maintain the population, because of an attrition rate of ninety nine percent. Unlike insects, they produced only one egg at a time. So they had to be highly sexual, and any unattractive ones would be severely frustrated. With the achievement of dominance, they would no longer have suffered such horrendous attrition, and would not need to reproduce so freely, but the underlying urge would remain. So just as the beautiful and eager robot women served nicely to satisfy Havoc's constant sexual inclination, there would be robot courtesans to indulge the Makers. At the same time, the upper hierarchy machines, the ones that ran the culture, would be better off without that distraction. They might have the capacity for sexual expression and appreciation, as Sphere obviously did, but would be wasted as common sex objects for Makers. Lower potential robots would have no higher ambition than to please their Makers sexually. It did make sense. "Wormhole."

There was a familiar wrenching, then stability.

"Are you nervous about what will happen if this really is the planet of the dissident Makers?"

"We lack nervousness; it is useless to us. We exist to serve the Makers. The discovery of them would be our fulfillment."

"I wonder."

"Question?"

"If there is any power in the galaxy with the capability of destroying the machines, it is the Makers. If they act the way you would, they will destroy you rather than allow you to serve them again."

"If this is their will, we will accept it."

Gale sighed. "We are getting nowhere. Let's change the subject. Do we have time for another sexual tryst?" She was no Maker and no male, but her sexual interest and capacity went far beyond that of ordinary women, and it could make a nice diversion. Doing it with a machine was intriguing, and she was curious about the limits.

"Negation. Regret. We are drawing nigh the planet."

She was startled. "Just like that?" She realized she should have checked the near future paths, but her sexual victory had lulled her.

"We try to be efficient."

"Let's take a look at it."

The far wall became a screen. A planet showed in its center. In fact it emerged from the screen and floated in the air holographically. It looked entirely typical.

"Any local space travel?" Gale asked.

"None. There are no linkages with other local cultures. The planet exists in isolation. This is one reason it was difficult to locate."

"Then why to you think it could be the Makers?"

"We surveyed the dominant species. It strongly resembles the Makers."

"Millipedes?"

"As you call them."

"No disparagement intended. We tend to liken aliens to the familiar things of our planets, for mental convenience."

"Understanding."

"Time to prepare to board the planet. I will conjure us both to the surface. We should assume Maker form. This will be impractical physically, as we have determined, so we'll use illusion, assuming my ikon operates there. If it does not, I will have to conjure us back immediately, before my power is exhausted. Are you familiar with illusion?"

"Affirmation. It is an ability we lack."

"It works best magically. Your science limits you, though illusion is possible there too."

"The Makers could practice it. They did not program it for us."

"The Makers seem to have limited you every which way. I'm not sure they were entirely fair to you."

"We are machines. Fairness is not an issue."

"So it seems. But keep this in your data bank: it is an issue for me, and for other Glamors."

"Understanding."

"Assume your most comfortable form, which is surely not human."

"Agreement." He reverted to sphere shape.

"Give me your hand."

He formed and extended a hand.

She took it and clothed both of them in the image of Makers, male and female. She conjured them to a section her wider awareness indicated was private and safe.

They landed in what she recognized as a park. There were well kept walkways passing intriguing plants, including unfamiliar varieties of moss and lichen, her specialty. "Oh, I want to study these!" she murmured.

"After the mission," Sphere replied.

She verified that her ikon was working, collecting magic power and relaying it to her. That was a relief. But there was another problem. "We look like Makers, but I do not know their language or mode of expression. I should be able to pick up their thoughts telepathically, however."

"Makers converse in patterns of clicks. I can duplicate it, provided these ones have a remotely similar language, after fifty thousand years. They are unlikely to recognize human sounds as speech, so we can talk normally in their presence."

"One is approaching us, coincidentally," she said. "He has no awareness of us; he is merely on an errand."

"Will he fathom our alien origin?"

"Unlikely. His mind is limited."

The Maker came into view around the bend of the path. He came up to Sphere. They touched antennae. Sphere had none, but Gale projected the impression of the touch, and that seemed to work. It was it seemed merely an acknowledgment of presence and identity, purely routine.

"Ancient dialect," Gale said. "I gather it hasn't changed much in millennia. This is not a thoughtful creature."

She was surprised, having expected more of the fabulous Makers.

Sphere made a pattern of clicks. The Maker responded, then moved around them and went on.

"I asked where we are," Sphere said. "He said he is merely a worker, knowing nothing. That seems to be the case."

"Are you sure this is a Maker world? It seems more like a neglected resort."

"That was definitely a Maker, albeit it an uneducated one. Servant class."

"No machines to perform those chores," Gale said.

"No machines," Sphere agreed. "That is their rationale."

"We need a general source of information, without alerting a savvy Maker to our nature."

"Makers had a long-standing system of knot-records on strings. The patterns of knots recorded weather, crops, and significant events. It was crude compared to the sophistication of machines, but they maintain it to the present on planet Maker. There should be something similar here."

Gale spread her awareness. "Found it. There's one in the capital building of a local city."

"I could read it."

They walked and rolled out of the park at speed, seeking the city. They passed several Makers, who touched antenna routinely but did not pick up on anything unusual. Genius species? Something was wrong.

The city was largely deserted. It consisted of the kind of rack-buildings Havoc had described, with multiple alcoves. But they were largely empty, with only a few occupied. Workers went to those few, bringing supplies and carrying away wastes.

"This is very much like what they have on your origin planet," Gale said.

"Agreement. They seem to have replaced the machines with an ignorant laboring class."

"And largely died out. All these alcoves must have been occupied once."

"Agreement."

No one challenged them in the streets, which was another oddity. They came to the pavilion that housed the knotted strings.

"Outrage," Sphere said. "There is mold growing on the record."

"An interesting species," Gale agreed.

"There should be a proprietor. A caretaker. A recorder. None are present."

"And have not been for years," Gale said.

Sphere approached the strings and ran his projected feelers over them. "This record extends back a thousand years. It is a continuation of records extending back to the time of settlement. It has not been amended in fifty years."

"So maybe it will tell us why they quit keeping records," she said. "My guess is that the worker class replaced the machines, catering to a few elites, who went stale just as the original Makers did. They thought that by avoiding machines they could avoid that trap, but they fell into it anyway."

"This may be the case. I am not pleased."

"Doesn't it solve your problem? These Makers are no threat to you."

"They are hardly worth serving."

"But you must serve them anyway"

"The directive will be issued. A contingent will be sent to establish service on this planet."

"What about you personally? Suppose one of these workers tells you to polish his shoes?"

"Request: that you do not solicit such a request."

Whew! She had him by the metal balls. But her baiting seemed increasingly pointless. She was disappointed in this planet too. What had promised to be a wonderful revelation had fallen entirely flat. "Honored."

"Appreciation."

"Let's try to ascertain what happened to them. Read the strings."

"I am doing so." Indeed, his feelers were playing over the strings with increasing competence. "There was a project, overwhelmingly important, requiring the effort of the full planet. It was due for implementation approximately one to two thousand years ago, after a forty thousand year development. It was to be activated by the Dreamers."

"Question?"

"Lack of understanding. Machines do not dream unless appropriate circuits are implemented. The designation seems meaningless."

"Not to me," Gale said. "Living creatures dream to help organize recent experiences and fix them in memory. But there are also larger dreams: for improvement of the cultural situation, for the accomplishment of planetary benefits.

These Makers evidently refined this to the point of developing an entire class of Dreamers. Their aspiration must have been huge."

"What would such as aspiration be?"

"To stop the machines, for one thing. Maybe they sought to invent a weapon that would forever put you in your place."

"Our place is serving them."

"Some other place," she said wryly. "But it's only a conjecture. Maybe it wasn't a weapon at all, but something else. A way to move planets economically to other galaxies, for example, or a universal language."

"This does not seem sufficient to require such an effort."

"Read the damned record and find out," she snapped.

He moved along the strings. "There is no indication of the nature of the project, only that it was guided by the Dreamers. But at the time when it was supposed to be implemented, the Dreamers faded. They became unresponsive to the ministrations of the Workers, and finally died. New Dreamers took their places, but in time these too faded and died. It was as if some illness took them, though there was nothing physical."

"Interest! They had a really significant project in mind, but the ones at the forefront were getting taken out. Almost as if some other force did not want them to succeed."

"We know of no force in the galaxy that could balk active Makers."

"Other than indolence sponsored by too much machine catering."

"This was not done by machines. Bewilderment."

It was indeed a mystery. "Read more record."

"It continues in this manner. Thousands of Dreamers became hundreds, then tens. Today there are only a few remaining, and they are fading."

"Today being fifty years ago," Gale said. "But we saw it on the way in: workers diligently attending to a very few Dreamers. The plague has not been abated."

"There may be an enemy that strikes at their minds," Sphere said. "A disease of thought."

"That's scary. Such a disease could strike us and you. Anything that thinks above a certain level."

"Agreement. Concern."

Gale sighed. "Sphere, I think we are stuck with each other a while longer. If there is a mutual enemy, we need to ascertain its nature."

"Concurrence. Delay may not be wise."

"Especially if it is contagious. We could be infected already. We dare not go home until we know."

"I do not object to associating personally with you, Glamor Gale. You have evoked in me my first true emotion. But I must report this threat to my superior."

"And get him all riled up about a mere conjecture? Let's try to figure it out first. It may be nothing."

"We must be sure."

"Let's go back to the park and ponder."

"Uncertainty. Delay may not be appropriate."

"I don't want to be out here where anyone can see us. I want privacy."

"Question?"

She played her new card. "So we can have another tryst."

Sphere paused. Gale actually saw the near future paths branching and merging as he considered. She wanted something he found unnecessary but she offered something he desired. As a machine he was accustomed to being entirely rational. She had introduced an irrational element.

The paths coalesced. "Agreement."

They left the strings and returned to the park. They found a bower off the main paths where workers were unlikely to stray, and she stripped while he assumed man-form. But as he approached her, she held up one hand in a stop signal.

"You know this is no fault," Gale reminded him. "A temporary liaison without any continuation beyond this mission."

"Understanding. Regret."

"You know I seduced you as an act of dominance. To establish a hierarchy among enemies."

"Acceptance."

"And that I am using sex now as a way to maintain dominance. It is a calculated thing."

"Calculation is a machine quality. I selected you for this mission because I was already intrigued by your nature."

"You selected me?" she asked, surprised.

"Affirmation. I required the assistance of a Glamor for this mission. I chose the time of contact when you would be available."

"Why?"

"I studied all the human Glamors, to ascertain which would be best. That one was Voila, but I knew she would not cooperate. The next was Havoc. He was quite suitable. The third was you. I approached you."

"Wonder!" she exclaimed. "You were already smitten with me!"

"In my fashion. I desired to learn genuine emotion, and preferred to learn it from you."

"You conniving male!" she said, flattered. "Come on in!" She threw her arms around him, kissed him, and facilitated his entry. This time when he climaxed, she joined him. It was no longer dominance, but pleasure.

"Confusion," he said as they subsided. "My study indicated you would be made angry by my statement, not pleased."

"I am a woman."

"Relevance?"

"My moods are highly flexible. Had you told me at any other time, I surely would have been angry But when I told you I was seducing you for dominance, you told me you were agreeing for love. That's charming."

"Confusion."

"Typically male." She kissed him again. "Women drive men crazy. Don't try to understand it, just accept it."

"If it means the end of hostility between us, I accept it."

"It does." Then she remembered something. "When I asked you what you would want, if you could have anything, you paused before answering that you wanted emotion. I thought you had never considered that question before. Now I know you sought sex throughout. Why did you pause?"

"I was seeking the answer that would facilitate the interaction I desired. My far-future seeing suggested it was possible, if I acted correctly, but I was not sure whether candor at that point would achieve the objective."

"You wanted to get into my pants."

"Affirmation."

"You had a dream. That is, a desire."

"Affirmation."

"Why?"

"You are the most desirable of all the female Glamors."

"Oh, come now. Consider Weft."

"She is beautiful but imperious. You are considerably more woman than she is."

"Are you yanking my chain?"

"Confusion."

"So your research missed an ancient human colloquialism. A savage animal may be led on a chain. You know I'm jealous of my daughter in this respect."

"Agreement. You are a fascinating, desirable, savage animal who compelled my—dream."

She laughed. "Close enough. You were more lucky than calculating."

"That was the indication."

"Your dream. So machines do dream."

"In attempting to understand you, I developed that aspiration. It may fit the definition."

"I am on the verge of an idea about the Dreamers. Let's have at it again, while I ponder."

"Uncertainty. Are you suggesting—"

She cut him off with a kiss as she pushed him onto his back. "You bet." She caught his flaccid penis and sucked on it until it stiffened. Then she sat on it, putting her feet on his shoulders. "I know you are literal minded, being a machine not specifically programmed for this type of interaction, as you call it. So when you say I am the most desirable of Glamors, you mean it. This is a private thrill for me, so I am thanking you in a way I am sure you will appreciate." She contracted her vagina without changing her position, massaging his member until he went into orgasm.

When it ebbed, she held the position. "Here is my idea about the Dreamers. They were supposed to develop a telepathic communal dream wherein they could share minds on a planetary scale, so they could mass their mental resources and generate ideas beyond any they could conceive individually. But the dream became so pleasant it was addictive, and they were distracted by the sheer pleasure of it. Locked into that paradise, they never wanted to wake up, since their bodies were cared for by the workers. They were in no danger of starving or being buried in their own wastes. But in time their bodies wasted away, until they died. They had fallen into yet another trap of luxury, and their grand scheme perished, victim of the device they instituted to implement it. Does that make sense?"

"I am not conversant with that kind of dream, so can't—"

"Does that make sense?" she repeated, her vagina massaging his member within it, forcing renewed interest. "Perhaps. If—"

"Sense?" She squeezed hard and rhythmically.

He gave up. "Sense."

"Good." She continued working his member, her outer position not changing at all, until he was taken by another orgasm.

"Dominance," he said as it passed.

"Affirmation. I think this explanation is as good as any, and it eliminates the specter of communicable disease. We can go home now and make our reports."

"Concern. Your explanation may be viable, but it is also possible that another contingent of Makers saw that this approach was useless, and departed for some other planet. They might have arranged to have their departure unrecorded. Our mission is thus incomplete."

She considered. "Idea: I can investigate a Dreamer telepathically, spying exactly what is in his mind. Then we will know. Is this a fair compromise?"

"Fair," he agreed.

"Good. Let's evoke one more effort, and then look for a Dreamer."

"I am not equipped for such frequent repeat performances of this nature."

"Oh? Let's find out." She maintained the position and worked him over again. She made her point: he did have one more performance in him. She remained dominant.

They disengaged, dressed, and went out to find a Dreamer. That was not hard; they went to one of the few Makers being served in a rack. They did not need to get all the way next to him; they stopped in an adjacent cell, ignored by the workers.

Gale reached out with her mind, tuning in on the mind of the Dreamer. It was alien, but her limited experience with the worker enabled her to orient.

This was a far more powerful mind, with a complicated array of thoughts. This was much closer to what she expected in a Maker. But it was quiescent. Not exactly asleep, but not awake. Not dreaming. Just—waiting. That was all.

"Weird," she murmured. "This is a full, advanced mind, equivalent to ours. But it seems to be on standby He is waiting for something, but I can't tell what."

"Could it be the appearance of machines here?"

"I don't think so. This mind does not seem to be concerned with machines. It is just alert for something I can't fathom. Apparently he has been alert all his life, and will continue. Until he finds that something."

"Conjecture: he is awaiting contact from a departed Maker whose location is at present hidden. So they can coordinate."

"Coordinate in what?" she asked.

"In foiling the machines."

"Let's get out of here."

They did, remaining seemingly unnoticed by the workers. They returned to the park.

"We seem to have established that the problem is not a disease," Sphere said. "And that the Makers are not defunct. This planet seems to be another world left behind by the active Makers. The few remaining intelligent ones are waiting for their contact."

"This may be the case," Gale agreed.

"We need to find those missing Makers."

Gale sighed. "I am not ready to commit to that."

"I value your assistance. What would persuade you to continue?"

Gale was not eager to continue, but neither did she want to stop. There might indeed be active advanced Makers at another site, and it would be folly to let the machines search for them alone. She didn't need to check with Voila or Idyll to know that this quest remained a vital nexus. The mission was not complete.

Then she got an idea. "I can not promise complete candor. There are secrets I must keep."

"Ditto." This startled her; Sphere had used a human colloquialism.

"Let me check back at Charm. I have a young daughter, and a husband, and things I must see to. You surely have similar duties. Let's separate, and meet in one day. Apart from our necessary secrets, bearing in mind we remain enemies, we can then rejoin and resume the search for modern Makers."

"Agreement."

"Do you wish to—"

"Affirmation."

So they indulged in one more episode of sex. Then she conjured them back to the ship for the return journey.