Out of Phaze

9. Game

Bane found himself in the apartment, with Agape back to her jelly state. He must have been unconscious, and she still was. Obviously the technicians of Proton had the means to knock a robot out and to knock out an entity of Moeba, and when the charade had been exposed, these means had been used. He discovered that his chewed finger had been restored; someone had done some work on him, perhaps replacing that unit.

He decided to wake Agape, if he could. He didn't like the present situation, and wanted to escape it, but would not make the attempt without her. He reached for her, but hesitated to touch that semiliquid form. It was not that it repulsed him, but that he was afraid he might do her some damage.

"Agape," he said. "Can you hear me? Wake!"

She did not stir. Perhaps she could not hear, with no ears at present. Surely she could not see, with no eyes.

He extended one finger and touched the protoplasm. It was not actually liquid; it had a translucent skin. His touch depressed a spot, that returned when he withdrew. It was like poking a water bag. Still she did not stir.

He tried again, this time pushing her surface with his whole hand. The substance proved to be infinitely malleable, giving way wherever he applied pressure, resettling in whatever new configuration was convenient, and slowly returning to its original state when allowed to. But it did not animate itself.

Finally he took hold with both hands and hauled. The form stretched out like flaccid taffy, and the form elongated. He continued to haul, and the end of it came over the edge of the bed. Finally the rest of the mass slid down, and the substance resumed a more globular form. Bane let go, and the mass sank down on the floor at the foot of the bed, the portion that remained on the bed sliding along to merge with the main mass. Now the body of it was on the floor.

Bane didn't like the notion of her getting dirty, so he tried to put the mass back on the bed. He put his arms around it and lifted, but only portions came up; most of it simply slid through his grasp and resettled below. He tried again, sliding his arms more carefully underneath; then the center came up and the protoplasm to either side flowed down, leaving him with a thinning strand that would not stay on the bed.

He pondered, then fetched a sheet from the bed, put it on the floor, and half rolled, half shoved the protoplasm onto the sheet. Then he caught up the corners of the sheet, making a bundle. He lifted this up to the bed and set it down. But as he swung the mass over, his feet could not follow; he lost his balance and fell facefirst onto the jelly.

Now it stirred. Bane tried to lift himself free, but the protoplasm spread out beyond the range of his hands, squeezed flat by his weight, and wherever he tried to set his palm, he was squishing more of the stuff. Meanwhile it was animating more actively, trying to form into the human shape but prevented by his presence on it.

Bane rolled, squashing one side of the mass but freeing the other side. He made it to the surface of the bed, but some of the protoplasm was carried along with him, half covering him. He waited, and the arms, legs, torso and head of Agape formed, beside him and over him.

She lifted her head, on which the hair was still sprouting, and looked down at him. "You are becoming most affectionate!" she remarked.

"I was trying to wake thee," he said lamely.

"I think you succeeded." She smiled. "I thought perhaps you were trying to show me how sex is performed."

Bane smiled, though he was embarrassed. "If Fleta had said that, I would know she was teasing me; she has that kind of humor. But I think thou art serious."

"Yes. But I would like to know your Fleta."

"Thou dost resemble her in that thou canst change thy shape, and thou art not human. But I fear thou canst never meet her."

"Still, if you are now ready to show me-"

"I woke thee because I think we were rendered unconscious and returned to this chamber. I think we be prisoners, and I like that not. I want to get away from here."

"You are correct. I did not sleep deliberately; I was looking at Citizen White, and then you were handling me."

"I don't know enough about this frame to operate all its mechanisms. But with thy help, perhaps-"

"You would have gone alone, had you known more?"

"Nay! I intend not to leave thee, Agape! So I had to wake thee anyway."

"I think I knew that, Bane. But I have never wished to impede you."

"Let's see if we can get out of here. Canst thou work the locks?"

"I'll try." Agape got up, walked to the exit panel, and touched it. It did not open. "No, they have attuned it to answer to some other signal. I lack the means to make it respond."

"I be not surprised," he said.

They used the food machine to get a meal. Bane paused at it. "This be a different machine! See, it has a colorless bar painted across it; the other had a white bar."

"The dust has a different flavor," Agape agreed.

"You can taste the dust?"

"When I sleep, I do not absorb the dust, because I taste it and reject it," she explained. "I absorb only what is nourishing." She then went protoplasmic and absorbed her nutribev, while Bane pondered their situation.

So they had been moved. Was it just to another suite, or farther? There seemed to be no way to know.

After they had eaten and caught up on routine functions, such as combing hair and trying unsuccessfully to get information from the video screen, they heard someone at the exit panel. The aperture opened and a serf appeared. It was an attractive young woman. "Foreman will see you now," she announced.

They seemed to have no choice. They followed the serf out. She led them to a chamber with chairs and a desk. An older male serf sat at the desk.

"You may call me Foreman," the serf said. "The Citizen wishes you to understand your position. You, Bane, have demonstrated that contact between the two frames is possible, and that information can be exchanged. The Citizen wishes to establish regular contact with his opposite number in Phaze. He is prepared to make it worth your while to facilitate this contact."

"I have no contact!" Bane protested. "I have been trying to find my way back, and have been unable."

"The Citizen will help you to find your way. All you have to do is explain how you made the exchange with the robot to reach this frame, and how you propose to return."

"Bane," Agape murmured. "He says it is a male Citizen. We were in the power of a female Citizen."

"You are not where you were," Foreman said. "You were transferred to the estate of another interested Citizen. The identity of that Citizen is not your concern."

"But this is kidnaping!" Agape protested. "We are members of the Experimental Project! We should not be held here!"

"You will be returned to that project after you have satisfied the Citizen," Foreman said. "I suggest that you cooperate to the maximum extent."

"Why should I cooperate with thee?" Bane demanded. "If thou hadst not interfered, I would have been home by now!"

"That is why you were intercepted," Foreman said. "The Citizen could not allow you to return before making use of your unique ability. For twenty years there has been no contact between the frames; now there can be. This is more important than your private concern; the welfare of the frames can be affected by the restoration of communication."

"But what good would it be, if Mach and I be the only two who can exchange places? Thou canst not have trade or any dialogue not filtered through this body; I would have to carry any message of thine to any person there."

"That would suffice," Foreman said. "The Citizen misses the old days of free contact; he wants to know how his opposite number is doing in Phaze, and catch up on the general history, and provide similar information. There can be nothing tangible, but that need be no bar to social contact."

Bane was not well versed in the technology of Proton, but he had a fair notion of people. He could tell that this serf was not giving him the whole story. Therefore he balked. "I see not the need for such contact. The frames have gone their separate ways for a score years; they can continue."

"Still, the Citizen would like to have this contact, and as I said, he is willing to make it worth your while to humor him. It is always best to humor a Citizen."

"Citizens mean naught to me!" Bane said hotly.

But Agape drew on his arm. "I have not been on Proton long myself, Bane," she said. "But I know it is terrible trouble to go against a Citizen. I beg you, do not antagonize this one."

Bane recognized the sensible voice of caution. Still, he knew something was false here. What should he do?

"What do you most want in life?" Foreman inquired.

"To go home," Bane answered immediately. But he wondered whether it was still that important to him.

"You can go home. Only show us how you do it."

Again there was an aspect of insincerity in the man. What would happen to Mach when he returned to this body and this frame? Surely the Citizen would not just let him return to the Experimental Project. Still, the Citizen could not make them exchange again if they didn't want to, so there did not seem to be a serious risk. "I think I'll wait awhile."

"You bargain for something? Do not try the Citizen's patience."

"Bane, if the Citizen will help you return-" Agape said.

Still it was too pat. Bane remembered how his father Stile dealt with Adverse Adepts whose power paralleled his own. Once those Adepts had tried to kill him, and had killed his other self. There was always a tension in the air when one of those encountered Stile now, and Bane visualized them as dragons who longed to attack, but were restrained by the knowledge that Stile was stronger and had allies who were dangerous to dragons. Yet the words were always courteous; the enmity was muted. One thing was sure: Stile never trusted an Adverse Adept. Bane did not trust this anonymous Citizen either.

"I be not bargaining," he said. "I just want to deal not."

"If you do not, as you put it, deal, you will be unlikely to return at all."

"Bane-" Agape said urgently.

Foreman glanced at her. "What is this amoeba to you?"

"My friend!" Bane snapped. "Sneer not at her!"

"Your friend," Foreman said thoughtfully. "Then she can be included. Whatever you want for her, she will have."

"Her freedom!"

"Of course. Show us how you communicate with Phaze."

"Bane, you do not know how bad the enmity of a Citizen is," Agape said, distressed. "Before I came to Proton, I knew that no serf must ever oppose any Citizen. It can be immediate expulsion from the planet, or even-"

"Finish your sentence," Foreman told her mildly. Bane realized that this was a kind of threat.

"Death," Agape whispered.

Foreman returned his attention to Bane. "The Citizen has been gentle with you because he knows you are not conversant with our culture. The alien speaks truly. Don't push your luck."

Bane felt little but contempt for the Citizen and his minion. But it did seem best to temporize. "Maybe-a game," he said.

"What?"

"Do not folk settle things here by playing games? Let me play a game with the Citizen, and if I win, Agape and I go free immediately, and if he wins I'll show him how I make contact with Phaze."

The serf seemed to swell up. "You offer such a deal to the Citizen? No serf has the temerity!"

"I be not a serf," Bane said. "I be an apprentice Adept."

"Here you are a serf-and you are in danger of becoming less even than that. I strongly suggest that you reconsider, before-"

A voice cut in, emerging from a grille on the desk. "I will make that wager."

Foreman's face froze. "Sir."

"Conduct our guests to the Game Annex."

"Yes, sir." The foreman stood with alacrity. "Follow me." He walked quickly from the room.

"Citizens like to gamble," Agape whispered. "It is notorious throughout the galaxy! But I never imagined-"

"I trust this not," Bane muttered.

"Trust is not a factor when dealing with a Citizen!" she said. "They give the orders, the serfs obey them."

They arrived at a pedestal similar to the one Bane had played on before, with the female robot. "Wait here," Foreman said tersely.

In a moment a stout clothed man walked up from the other side. This was obviously the Citizen. His apparel was white, and he wore a ring set with a huge purple amethyst.

"Purple!" Bane exclaimed.

"Say Sir to the Citizen!" Foreman snapped.

But the Citizen hoisted a restraining hand. "You know me from somewhere, apprentice Adept?"

"Aye," Bane agreed. "Thou art the Purple Adept."

The Citizen smiled. "So you really are from Phaze! And my other self retains his position there."

"Aye," Bane agreed warily. Purple was one of the Adverse Adepts, a dragon lurking. Now Bane was quite sure that this man was not to be trusted. But he did have power, whether as Adept or Citizen, and had to be handled carefully.

"So it seems we have a wager," the Citizen said, smiling coldly. "One game to settle the issue. I win, I get your secret; you win, you go free."

"Aye," Bane agreed, not quite sure of himself. He might have contempt for the idiosyncrasies of the society of Proton, but the power of Adepts he understood and feared. He had in effect challenged a dragon barehanded, and he was apt to rue it.

"Then play, apprentice," the Citizen said, touching his side of the pedestal.

Bane looked at the grid. The numbers, letters and words were there by the squares.

"But this is wrong!" Agape said. "Both are lighted!"

So they were. Which was he to choose from?

"This is not your ordinary entertainment-type game," the Citizen said. "In this one, you choose all your parameters, and I choose mine."

Agape fidgeted beside him. Bane knew she was bothered by this, but he was prepared to play one version of the Game or another. He touched PHYSICAL and NAKED, 1A. He felt most comfortable with that.

"But the Citizen isn't limited to that!" Agape reminded him.

He hadn't thought of that. In immediate retrospect it was obvious. He had blundered, but it was too late to take it back. The second grid was already on the screen.

"You choose," he told her, knowing that her limited experience was more comprehensive than his own.

"I will go with you," she said, touching 8. COOPERATIVE. "And maybe slopes are best." She touched F, which covered FIRE or VARIABLE SURFACE.

"And I have chosen 2C6H," the Citizen said. "Machine-assisted intellectual interactive general-format."

Bane was baffled by the description. "What meaneth that?"

The Citizen gestured toward the door beside the pedestal. "Enter the Game and find out, apprentice. You and your alien friend are a naked team. If you suffer a Game-death, you lose."

Bane shrugged. He went to the door, and Agape followed him. It was an opaque panel that fogged at his touch. They stepped through.

They were in mountains. Ahead was a thickly wooded slope. The peak of the mountain had a purple hue.

"The Purple Mountain range!" Bane exclaimed. His confidence increased. He knew this range; he had crossed it several times, by magic and by foot, sometimes with Fleta. This was of course a mere mockup, like the Vampire Demesnes of Citizen White; even so, he was much more at home here than in ordinary Proton.

"Challenges to be mounted singly," the voice of the Game Machine announced. "Time limit: seven days."

"So we have seven days to avoid the Game-death," Bane said. "But how will the Citizen try to kill us? What be a machine-assisted intellectual format?"

"I do not know," Agape said. "I thought it was a computer, but I don't see how that can hurt us."

"I think, as he said, we shall find out."

"This is made to resemble Phaze? Could the hazards be natural ones of that frame?"

"If they are, I'll know how to handle them. But there be no computers in Phaze."

"Sometimes computers run things."

"Like what?"

"Well, like robots, or-"

"Robots!" he exclaimed. "Like this body?"

She nodded. "Oh, Bane, I fear this will be bad."

"But singly," he reminded her. "Since there be two of us, mayhap we can handle them. One can sleep, the other watch."

"And it's not real death," she said, taking heart. "We won't really be hurt. But if we lose-"

"Then I will show the Citizen what he wishes," Bane said grimly. "I like that not, for I trust him not, but I gave my word."

She glanced at him sidelong. "Your word is important to you."

"It be a matter of honor. My father has honor, and I be his son."

She nodded. "It's a good way to be."

"It be the only way to be. A man without honor be not a man."

"And what of those who are not men to begin with?"

Now he looked at her. "Elves have honor too, and unicorns and werewolves."

"Women - or creatures from other worlds?"

He laughed. "If thou dost have it not, tell me now, ere I trust thee to guard me in my sleep!"

"I may define it somewhat differently in detail, but I think the essence is the same."

They moved on through the forest, warily. "This be not Phaze, so I have no magic here," Bane said. "That makes me feel naked."

"You could fashion some clothing."

He laughed again. "Mayhap thou dost resemble Fleta some! E'er doth she tease. Her dam be always serious, and doth stay mostly in equine form, but Fleta-" He shrugged.

"Then perhaps a weapon. 'Naked' in the Game parlance means that you are provided with no tool, but you can make what you want from the surroundings. We don't know what kind of a robot will be attacking us, but it may not be wise to meet it barehanded."

"True." Bane looked about. "I would cut a staff, but have no knife."

"I can form a sharp edge," she offered.

"Sharp enough to cut wood?" he asked dubiously.

"I form substance hard enough to serve the function of bone and teeth; I can form harder if I try."

"That be right! In minutes thou dost go from jelly to full human form. Canst make a metal knife?"

"In facsimile," she said. She lifted her right hand, and it melted into a glob, then extended into something like a dagger. The edge firmed until it gleamed, looking wickedly sharp.

"Like magic," Bane breathed admiringly.

"What do you want cut?"

He checked around, and found a suitable sapling. "This."

She put her blade-extremity to its base and sliced. The edge cut in. She withdrew it and set it again, and in a moment a wedge of wood fell out. She made other cuts, and soon the sapling had been felled.

"Thou dost have thy uses," Bane said. "With powers like that, what use dost thou have for this Proton society?"

"My kind has individual abilities, but not technological ones," she said. "We need to learn, so that we do not remain a backplanet species."

"Methinks I prefer this backplanet," he remarked.

"I was speaking for my species, not necessarily myself."

Under his direction, she cut off branches and topped it, forming a long pole. Bane hefted it with satisfaction. "A sword would be better, but this be enough for now."

There was a stir from the side. Bane whirled about. "Mayhap none too soon!" he muttered.

It was no false alarm. A stocky goblin was approaching. The goblin had a small sword, and he waved it menacingly. "I'll destroy you, miscreant!" it cried.

"Goblins use not swords," Bane muttered. "Unless disciplined into an army, and they be more likely to hurt each other than the enemy. And they talk not of destruction; they just attack."

"It's the Citizen-using a remote-controlled robot," Agape said. "Don't let it get too close."

"Scant danger of that!" Bane agreed. "Do thou get behind me, so it can attack thee not." He faced the goblin, his staff ready. He had not used a staff in some time, but his father had required him to train in a number of hand weapons, and he knew how to use it effectively. Normally goblins came in hordes, making them formidable; a single one was not much of a threat.

The goblin simply charged in, swinging his sword. Bane sidestepped it and clubbed the creature's arm, jarring free the weapon. It fell to the ground.

"Nicely done," the goblin said in the voice of the Citizen. "Perhaps this will be a pleasant challenge after all." It stooped to recover the sword.

Bane rammed the goblin in the head with the end of his staff. He intended only to knock it down, knowing that a goblin's big head was the least vulnerable part of its body and could hardly be hurt by any blow. But the staff stove in the side of the head. Sparks crackled, and the goblin collapsed.

"Ooo, you killed it!" Agape exclaimed. "That is, you put it out of commission."

"So that was the first challenge," Bane said, surprised. "A real goblin would die not so readily." He picked up the goblin's sword. It was small, but of sturdy steel: a good weapon. "And this be a spoil of war, methinks."

"But there will be other threats," Agape reminded him.

"Aye. And if I understand rightly, of different types; we be through with goblins."

"Let's get somewhere else," Agape said nervously.

He found a vine and cut it to length and formed it into a crude belt. From this he hung the sword, so that he didn't need to carry it in his hand.

They moved on, climbing the slope of the mountain. Its general contour seemed familiar, but he realized that it could be the same mountain in Proton as the one he had known in Phaze, covered by one of the scientific domes and provided with fresh air and planted, so as to duplicate the original more closely. The Citizen had good taste in landscape!

But soon there was another sound, this time from the air. They peered up between the trees and saw a gross bird-shape. "A harpy!" Bane exclaimed.

"Is that worse than a goblin?"

"Depends. True harpies have poisoned talons and can move them very quickly in close quarters. But a robot harpy may be clumsy."

"I hope so."

"Clever blow, last time," the Citizen's voice came from the harpy. "But you'll not catch me again that way."

Bane backed under the canopy of a tree. "Get beyond the trunk," he told Agape. "If it flies at you, just circle around the tree, staying clear."

"But what about you?"

"I want not to flee it, but to kill it."

"But-"

"Move, woman!"

She moved. The harpy oriented and swung low; then it folded its wings and dived down at him.

Bane stepped aside, as he had before, and the harpy swerved. But this time he had stepped to the other side, and the Citizen had been geared for the first side. Thus the harpy missed completely-but Bane's staff didn't. It caught the harpy on the back, knocking it down and out of control. It plowed into the ground. Bane rammed it in the side of the head, as he had the goblin, with the same result: sparks and cessation.

"Methinks I like this game," he said, smiling.

"Bane, I don't like it," Agape said. "I fear the Citizen is only toying with you. There is something-"

"Something? What?"

"I don't know. Something that doesn't quite match. It scares me. Let's get far from here."

Bane thought her concern was exaggerated, but it made sense to keep the Citizen guessing about their location. It was possible that these were indeed simple ploys, intended only to feel out Bane's defenses. Once the Citizen knew his opponent better, he might send in something more formidable.

They cut to the south (assuming the orientation of this mountain was as it was in Phaze), traveling at right angles to their former route. The forest was thick here, and they were careful not to scuff the ground. It would not be easy to spot them; probably the Citizen would have to do some searching. Bane intended to see just how good a searcher the man was, in a robot body.

There was a noise to the side, but not a threat. It was a brown deer bounding away, its white tail flashing. It paused, glancing back, then ran on out of sight.

"Stocked with real wilderness animals!"Agape exclaimed, delighted.

"Mayhap I can kill one and have it for food," Bane said.

"Kill a deer?" she asked, horrified. "How could you!"

Suddenly there was a roar right ahead. A demon leaped at them. Agape screamed and fled; Bane whipped his staff up and caught the creature in the belly, shoving it back.

"Surprised you, didn't I!" the Citizen's voice came from the toothy maw of the monster. Then it lurched right over the staff, those teeth coming for Bane's face.

Bane snatched the goblin sword from its mooring with his left hand. He drove the point at the demon's gaping mouth. The blade went in, puncturing the back of the mouth. Again there was a crackle, and the monster became nonfunctional.

Bane pulled out the sword and replaced it in his belt. "Aye, this be an easy game."

"But don't you see," Agape said. "Each time you kill one, another comes. And they seem to know where we are! The Citizen must be able to see us, before he animates a robot!"

"What wouldst thou have me do?" Bane asked, irritated. "Not kill a monster?"

"Maybe that would be best," she said.

"Let it kill me instead?" he demanded acidly.

"No, Bane. Just-avoid it for a while. So that no new one can come. Better to retain the known danger, than to bring on an unknown one. After all, there's a lot of time-a whole week, and-"

"Flee from a goblin or a harpy I could readily kill? What kind of man would folk take me for then?"

"A sensible one!" she flared.

"It be not sensible to leave an enemy creature on my tail!"

"But Bane, don't you see, there are things we don't understand-"

"I understand well enough!" he retorted. "Thou dost not like to hurt robots!"

"That's not true! It's just that-"

"Get away from me, woman!" he cried. "I need not counsel of the like of this!"

"Well, if you feel that way-!"

"Aye. Go thine own way, and let me be."

She gazed at him for a moment, then turned and walked away. Bane watched her go, furious at her betrayal, then struck for higher ground. He wanted to get where he could look about, to see whether there was something watching him, such as one of the magic screens.

Just to be sure, he made a loop: he circled carefully,

and stopped just before he crossed his own prior trail. If something were following him, this should foil it. Nothing did; all he saw was another deer, browsing amidst the leaves of a copse of small trees. He settled down and kept quiet, so as not to disturb it. When it spooked, he would know something was coming.

His thoughts returned to Agape. She had supported him so loyally, until now; why had she started second-guessing his strategy, that was so obviously successful? He had proved himself readily able to handle the assorted imitation creatures the Citizen had sent against him; she should have been satisfied with that!

There was a thunk beside him. Bane jumped. There was a feathered arrow in the trunk of the tree he squatted near. He was being attacked!

He scrambled away as another arrow whistled through his region. He dived behind another trunk. This time the Citizen was striking from a distance; neither staff nor short sword could do much about that!

How had the man found him, and come up behind him, without even alerting the deer? Bane's loop had made no difference. The Citizen had not followed his trail, but had simply arrived at his location.

Bane poked his head around the tree, trying to spot the Citizen. But another arrow swished by, too close. The Citizen has good aim!

"Now let's see you club me in the head!" the Citizen called.

Had the man come in person, this time? If so, the Citizen was taking a serious chance, for he was fat and slow, while Bane was young and fast.

Another arrow thunked into the ground just beyond Bane's tree. But this one was different. It sparkled. In a moment the dry grass and leaves of the forest floor were burning. A fire-arrow!

Bane went to stamp out the fire-but another normal arrow whizzed by his head, and he had to retreat. But the fire was spreading rapidly toward him. Soon he would have to move, or get burned. But when he moved, he

would become vulnerable to the arrows of the Citizen!

He had no choice. He saw the deer running by, spooked by the smoke, in its alarm actually cutting past the fringe of the fire and leaping toward the Citizen. Well, maybe that would distract the man for the necessary instant!

Bane charged for the next tree. But an arrow passed ahead of him, making him dive to the ground.

"I've got you covered, apprentice!" the Citizen called, striding forward, his bow ready, the next arrow already nocked. "You weren't as much competition as I had hoped, after all. Too bad."

Bane scrambled up. The Citizen's bow moved to track him with unerring accuracy. He had no chance!

Then the deer hurtled into the Citizen. Both fell to the ground. Bane, amazed, nevertheless grasped his opportunity; he launched himself in that direction, intending to club the Citizen before the bow came back into play.

But he discovered that the job had already been done. The deer was striking at the man's head with its sharp front hooves, and the head was crackling. It had been another robot, fashioned into a man's image, and it had been put out of commission.

But by a wild animal?

Then Bane caught on. "Agape!" he exclaimed.

The deer looked at him and nodded. Then it began to melt. Soon it was reforming into Agape's more familiar human form.

"Thou didst save my life!" Bane exclaimed. "Or at least my freedom. Thou wast with me all along! But why, when we quarreled?"

"Friends can disagree," she said as her human face became complete. "I couldn't let you lose the game if I could prevent it."

He took her in his arms. "We spoke of honor. Thou didst say that thou didst define it differently. I like thy definition."

"I just did what I had to do."

"Must I needs apologize to thee," he said.

"No need, Bane. Just win the game."

"Aye. But now will come another threat - and methinks it will know where we be."

"The last one followed you and didn't recognize me," she said. "Maybe the Citizen tunes in on the substances of your body. Living flesh may not work for that."

"This be more of a challenge than I like. How can I sleep, and the Citizen tune in on me?"

"We've got to find a way to nullify the threat without destroying it," she said. "Then it won't matter if it knows where you are."

Bane cast about for stones. "Next bowman comes, I want a distance weapon."

"Why not use the bow?"

Bane knocked his head with the heel of his hand. "The bow: Spoils!"

Bane picked up the bow, and checked the remaining arrows. Most were ordinary, but one was incendiary and another was glowing: a marker.

He tested the bow, shooting an arrow at a distant target. It scored; this was an excellent instrument. Probably the man-robot had been designed for perfect marksmanship, too. Well, Bane could score well enough with this, being both trained and having a robot body.

"Each attack seems to be worse than the preceding one," Agape said. "I think we'd better prepare for something bad."

"Aye. But thou dost not wish to kill it."

"Not if we can nullify it without destroying it. Then the Citizen won't be able to bring a new threat."

"If we just knew what to expect!" he fretted.

"Since we can't seem to hide from it, maybe if we made a good defensive position-"

"Or a trap!" he exclaimed.

They discussed it briefly, then worked to set up a covered pit. Bane had to use the sword to excavate the earth and chop through roots, and they couldn't take time to make it too deep, because they did not know when the next attack would come. The best they could hope for was that the creature would fall in, and be distracted long enough for Bane to get in some crippling but not killing blow. Having slowed it, they could then outrun it, and the Citizen would not be able to bring in anything new.

They put branches and ferns across the hole, bringing them in from a distance, and covered them with some of the dirt. The extra dirt they used to fashion a kind of fort nearby. They spread dry leaves over everything. Then they settled into the fort and waited.

Nothing happened. After two hours, the sun was going down, and they were getting hungry. "The Citizen must be taking a break," Agape said. "He knows that we don't dare rest, so he can afford to. He has plenty of time."

That seemed to make sense. "Let's eat, then," Bane said.

They searched for food. Some of the trees had fruit, but it wasn't enough. They also needed water to drink.

"If this be a copy of the mountain I know," Bane said, "there be a cave and the snow from the peak melts into a stream that runs through it. Mushrooms grow in that cave. But some be poison."

"I can tell good from bad," Agape said.

They went to where the cave should be-and it was there. "The stream joins it inside; its channel be too convoluted and narrow for a person, but for a way it be nice," he said, remembering.

It was nice. It was dark inside, but Bane used the glow-arrow for light, and it was enough. The mushrooms grew thickly by the bank of the subterranean river. Agape melted a hand and touched sample mushrooms, locating a large patch of good ones. They had food, for now. He ate a token amount, just to keep her company.

Agape checked farther in the cave. She stroked the stones of it. "Bane, this is not safe!" she exclaimed, alarmed. "I feel the stress here; one hard knock, and the ceiling will fall!"

"Aye, I always used a spell to shore it up, just in case. But if we don't knock it-"

"Let's get back to the surface," she said nervously.

They returned to the forest. It was dark now, and the sounds of the night life were there. The Citizen had done an excellent job of renovating this region!

"Funny thing," Bane murmured. "The Citizen we fight corresponds to the Purple Adept of Phaze. But the one who captured us was the White Adept."

"I think the Citizens are collaborating," Agape said.

"If the correspondence be accurate, White and Purple both be enemies of Blue."

"It seems accurate." They returned to the earthen fortress and settled down for the night.

"The Citizen can attack any time," Bane said. "We'll have to keep careful watch."

"I'll watch while you sleep," she said. "Then you can watch while-"

Bane smiled. "Thou dost forget my present body. It does not need to sleep. I'll keep watch."

She laughed. "I did forget! You seem so human to me."

"I am human. It be just my body that is machine."

"Then I will sleep. But wake me, if-"

"How do I wake thee? When I tried before-"

"Tap this code on my surface," she said. She took his hand and tapped it in an intricate pattern. "That is the alert-code for my species; I will respond immediately."

He rehearsed the code, making sure of it. Then she formed a basin in the ground and lay down.

"Dost thou not get dirty?" he asked as she began to melt.

Her face was dissolving, but the mouth remained. It spoke. "No, my skin rejects it, just as it does the dust." Then the mouth disappeared into the coalescing central mass. She became a dark pool in the basin.

Bane kept watch. He discovered that though he did not require sleep, his consciousness did require some down-time to assimilate and properly organize the events of the day. Otherwise his awareness would become chaos.

So, while he watched, he also dreamed, in his fashion. It was pleasant enough.

In the morning he tapped Agape's surface in the code pattern, and she stirred. The protoplasm rippled and humped and shaped itself into the human mannequin; then the features clarified and the hair grew out. Bane watched, interested, then startled; then he smiled.

"Good morning, Bane," she said.

"Thy hair be blue," he said.

She lifted a strand between her fingers, bringing it around so that she could see it. "Oops!" Her hair dissolved back into her head, then regrew with its normal reddish color.

"But methinks I liked the blue better," Bane said.

She stared at him a moment, then laughed. "When you are serious about that, tell me. I can be any appearance you want."

They found some more fruit, and an edible root. It wasn't much of a breakfast, but it served. "Actually, I can assimilate cellulose," Agape said. "It takes a little longer, but there is no need for me to take food you could consume. In fact, I might be able to predigest some for you, so that-"

"Nay, this body needs food not," he reminded her.

She laughed ruefully. "I keep forgetting! You seem so-so alive!"

"I be alive," Bane said. But he knew what she meant. Were he in living flesh, he would be required to eat. The notion of consuming her predigested food bothered him, but he realized that there was no sense in being repelled by the notion; what was honey, but pollen that had been predigested by insects? "We should be seeing the Citizen soon."

"As he finishes his breakfast and gets ready for his day's entertainment," she agreed.

They had called it correctly. The Citizen manifested-in the form of a small flying machine.

"A toy airplane!" Agape exclaimed.

"I mistrust the Citizen's toys," Bane said.

The airplane looped in the sky, then oriented unerringly on Bane and dived down.

Bane saw it coming and scooted around behind a tree. A dart thunked into the trunk; the plane had fired at him.

"Like a man with a bow-only this time it flies," Agape said.

Bane ran for the cover of a different tree as the plane sailed up in the sky and looped around again. He picked up a pair of stones.

The plane was not in sight, but they could hear it as it circled. Then it came down, flying directly at Bane's present hiding place, on the side that he stood. "Circle the tree!" Agape screamed.

He did so with alacrity. Another dart struck, and the plane climbed back into the sky.

"How does he know where I be?" Bane asked. "I couldn't see it, so it couldn't see me-yet came it right at me."

"There must be a sensing device on you," she said, running after him as he went for another tree.

"Like a spell of location?"

"I think so. Maybe if you take off the sword-"

Bane threw down the sword and ran for another tree. The plane came down and planted another dart in that trunk as Bane dived clear.

Then it came to him. "The finger!" he cried.

"The what?"

"The Citizen fixed my chewed finger! That be where it be!"

"Of course!" she agreed. "But in that case-"

Bane lifted his finger to his mouth and bit it off. The pseudoflesh and pseudobone resisted his efforts, but he kept chewing until it was free. He hurled it away from him.

The plane came down and fired a dart into the ground near the fallen finger. "That confirms it!" Agape cried. "Get away from that finger, and he'll never find us!"

But Bane had another notion. "That flyer can cast about and mayhap spot us anytime; I want to trap it, alive."

"Bane, you can't-"

"Follow me!" He ran across and swooped up the finger. "I'm going to the cave. Tell me when the plane be coming at me."

"The cave! But the plane is small enough to fly in there too!"

"Aye."

"Bane, this is crazy! It will follow you and trap you in there!"

He kept running, and she had to follow. They zigzagged down the slope toward the cave.

"It's orienting!" Agape cried.

Bane dodged to the side without stopping. In a moment a dart struck the ground near his prior course. The plane passed on by and ascended. Apparently it was only able to fire once on a pass, and it was doing so from too far away to compensate for his last-moment maneuvers.

They reached the entrance to the cave. "Bane, you can't!" Agape cried. "You can't take the finger deep enough to lead the plane in, and still get out yourself-and the plane will come out the moment it discovers that it's only the finger, anyway!"

"Not if I throw the finger into the water, and then bash out that weak section so the roof falls down, trapping it inside."

"No!" she cried. "The collapse will be behind the wall; I felt the nature of the stresses. You will be trapped too!"

The plane was coming in again. "I'll take that chance!"

"No, I'll take it!" she said, grasping the finger. "I can get out through the river channel; you can't." She hurried into the cave.

He let her go. It was too late to stop her without getting caught by the plane-and he realized that she was right. She could melt and climb in a way that he could not. He scrambled for cover outside the cave.

The plane came down, aiming for the cave. It slowed as its sensors showed the nature of the terrain. But its sensors also told it that the target was in the cave, and could not be reached from outside it, so it followed.

Bane watched as the small craft corrected course and flew inside. He realized that the Citizen was guiding it, and had to be very careful here, lest he crash it before reaching his target. But the plane could not travel too slowly, lest it drop to the ground. It had to get in there and score; then it wouldn't matter what happened to it, because the game would be over.

Had Agape had enough time to reach the water and throw the finger in? Would their trap work if she sprang it? Now his doubts loomed grotesquely large. How could he have let her take that risk in his place? She was such a good, caring, self-sacrificing creature! Probably if he had occupied his natural body, whose emotions were not under control the way those of the machine were, he would not have let her do it. He hadn't even shown her what he had promised-and if she got caught in the collapse of the cave-roof, he would never have the chance, because she would be not merely Game-dead, but all-the-way dead.

There was a rumble. The ground shook, and dust swirled out from the mouth of the cave.

She had done it. But at what cost?

Bane went to the cave, but it was so full of dust that he could not see anything. He just had to hope that the plane had been trapped, and that Agape survived, and was making her way out. There was nothing he could do but wait.

He returned to the minor fort where they had spent the night. He recovered his staff and sword and bow. The game was not over until either he was "dead" or time ran out.

A huge shape loomed in the sky. Bane peered up at it from cover. It was a dragon! It was circling the peak of the mountain, looking down.

Bane considered. That had to be a robot, because there were no magical creatures in Proton. That meant it was the Citizen in another guise. That in turn meant that the airplane had been destroyed rather than trapped, so their plan had failed in that respect. Now the Citizen was free and Agape was not: the opposite of what they had tried for.

But why was the dragon circling the mountain, instead of searching for Bane himself? That didn't seem to make sense.

Then he reasoned it out. The Citizen was still orienting on the finger! It had been dark in the cave, and when the roof collapsed the finger had not been touched, being deeper in. It would not have been obvious that the finger was unattached; after all, it had been moving purposefully until that point.

The Citizen thought Bane was trapped inside the cave! The dragon was trying to figure out how to reach him in that impenetrable fastness. Or perhaps making sure he didn't escape, so that he would starve in there. Death by starvation was still death; that would represent victory for the Citizen.

But what of Agape? Had she survived, or was she truly dead? The Citizen might not care, but Bane did! He had to assume that she was all right, and was making her way slowly up through the channel used by the stream. That could be quite tortuous; he should be patient.

Patient? He should be half mad with anxiety! These robot feelings lacked the punch of the natural ones, because he could control them; if he decided not to care about the fate of his companion, then he didn't care. That might be convenient for a machine, but he preferred the natural way, inconvenience and all. In his own body, he'd be-

He analyzed it, as he could do with this body. He concluded that his first thought was correct: he would be quite smitten with Agape. Oh, it was true that she was an alien creature who dissolved into a puddle of jelly when she slept. It was true that she hardly knew the meaning of human sexual involvement. In fact, she hardly understood the distinction between male and female. But she was working hard to learn, and was succeeding well. When she assumed her human female form, she was lovely indeed. More important, her loyalty and effort and personality were all nice. A human woman like her would be an admirable companion-and Agape could be exactly like a human woman.

Bane had had his eye on the females of Phaze throughout. He knew that in due course he would have to marry and settle into the business of being the Blue Adept. Whenever he had encountered a female, he had judged her as a prospective companion or wife. Many were excellent companions; none had seemed suitable to marry. Some very fetching ones were nonhuman, like Fleta or Suchevane, the mind-maddening vampire. But only the fully human ones were suitable for marriage-and they had other counts against them. Some were not really attractive, physically; he knew that was narrow of him, but he did not want an ordinary woman. Some were beauties-but were the offspring of Adverse Adepts. Sheer mischief, there! Probably their appearance was substantially enhanced by magic, and the reality would be a disappointment. So he had not found any woman to love, in Phaze. Only playthings. He had been over this before, in his own mind, seeking some solution, and had come to none.

Here in Proton there were the frivolous types too, such as Doris the cyborg, that one who had dumped Mach. But here too was Agape, and there was nothing frivolous about her. She concealed none of her nature from him, and supported him in whatever way she could, asking in return only a type of instruction that it would be laughable for him to charge anything for. Now she had willingly, almost eagerly risked her life, her real life, to save him from a pseudo-death in the Game. So that he would not have to tell the Citizen how to contact his other self in Phaze. She could hardly understand his rationale for wishing to keep the matter private; he hardly understood it himself. He just didn't like being forced into doing something, and he regarded the Citizen as a member of a class of opponents who should not be accommodated in anything important. None of this was any concern to an alien creature. So her support was mostly altruism-and her kind of honor.

Honor. She had it, obviously. There, emerging at last from the complexities of their relationship, was the essence. She was a creature who was capable of understanding and practicing an honorable existence. That was the kind of female he wanted for a long-term companion.

But she was of the frame of Proton, and he was of Phaze. He could not become the Blue Adept and have her with him. So the relationship could not be permanent. The best he could do was give her her instruction in the human mechanism of sexual expression, and leave her.

It made sense; his robot brain saw it clearly. But his human consciousness damned it. This was not the relationship he wanted with her.

But his robot logic would not stop. Agape was a creature from the planet of Moeba, and was here on a mission. She saw him as a feasible way to implement that mission; she had always been open about that. Once that was done, her use for him should abate. She had never spoken to him of love or permanence; she had always tried to help him to return to his own frame. So he was probably fooling himself if he thought she had any genuine feeling for him; it was possible that her species did not possess such feelings. He had been humanizing her in his perception of emotion, just as he had been with her body. She looked human, but was not; she acted human, but was not. Therefore it was foolish of him even to consider any permanent relation with her, regardless of its feasibility.

Well, if she had survived the cave, and returned to him intact, he would forthwith honor his bargain and show her everything he knew about human sexuality. Then she would be free to go her way, and he free to return to Phaze. That was the proper course. Not the ideal course, just the proper one.

The day crawled past, while the dragon circled, then flew away for several hours, then returned to circle again. The Citizen had taken a lunch break, but was still watching. Bane ate also, and snoozed in his robot fashion, ready to spring alert if the dragon came his way.

Dusk came, and darkness, and Agape had not shown up. Bane kept reminding himself that the river channel could be long and difficult, and her progress in the amoebic form could be very slow; he had no reason to assume she was dead. Yet he had little reason to assume otherwise, either.

Then, near the middle of the night, there was a nearby stir. He snapped alert, grasping the sword.

"Bane?" It was her voice!

"Agape!" he cried. "Are you all right?"

"I had to wait till the dragon went. Then I threw the finger into the river outside."

"But that's nowhere close!"

"I assumed the form of the deer, for better speed. But for you, here-"

He dropped the sword, strode to her and enfolded her in his arms. He kissed her, and kissed her again, and whirled her around. They fell laughing on the ground and rolled about, heedless of the dirt and leaves. They made love, joyously, explosively. Then they talked, catching up on events and recent fears and the details of their survival.

Then she said: "Perhaps tomorrow you can show me how your kind does the act of reproduction."

"We just did it!" he exclaimed.

She was startled. "When?"

"When we-were on the ground."

"Oh, you should have told me! I would have paid better attention."

Disgruntled, Bane changed the subject.

Agape, tired after her long effort, collapsed into a pool and slept.

He let her be, when morning came, fashioning some branches for shade so that the light of the artificial sun would not burn her substance. He watched for the dragon, and noted how it was now flying in the distance, over the river. How long would it be before the Citizen realized that Bane was not swimming in that water?

It was some time. When the Citizen finally did catch on, he deliberately crashed his dragon into the mountain, destroying it. Then he came after them on the ground, in a vehicle Agape described as a tank, that crashed through the brush and fired jets of fire. But without the signal from the finger, the Citizen had no easy way to locate them, and it turned out that he had no natural skill in tracking. For the remainder of the Game they avoided the clumsy machine, eating from the land and covering the matter of Agape's instruction in considerable and pleasant detail. When the time expired, they were alive, therefore the victors.

Game exits manifested: cubicles rising from the forest floor. They entered one and were borne down to the formal complex.

Foreman was waiting. "The Citizen wishes to convey his congratulations to you on your victory," he said to Bane. "You are free to return to your Experimental Project."

"We be ready," Bane said, eager to get away from this region.

"Not two; one," Foreman said. "The alien will remain here."

"But the bet was for both!" Bane protested.

Foreman touched a button on an instrument he carried. The Citizen's voice sounded from it: "I win, I get your secret; you win, you go free." Then Bane's reply: "Aye."

Foreman looked at him. "That was the agreement?"

"Aye," Bane repeated. "We two go free."

"No. Only you the speaker go free, no other."

"But I meant both! 'You' be plural!"

"Not necessarily, in the dialect of Proton. Ask your associate."

Bane looked at Agape. She nodded. "The word is both plural and singular," she said. " 'You' can mean several people or one person."

"And the Citizen was addressing one person: you," Foreman said. "You won the game, you go free. She remains."

"I go not without her!" Bane exclaimed.

"Suit yourself. The hospitality of the Citizen is open to you."

"But I want it not! I want Agape free!"

"That would require a separate agreement."

"Bane, go without me," Agape said urgently. "I don't matter."

"Thou dost matter more than everything else!" Bane exclaimed. "Thou didst almost sacrifice thyself in the cave, for me; I will not have it again!"

"Have no concern for her comfort here," Foreman said. "She will be granted residence in a suitable container." He gestured, and a wall dissolved. In the adjacent chamber was a monstrous black pot suspended over leaping flames.

Agape looked, and fainted. Her body dissolved, its substance sinking to the floor.

Bane swallowed, knowing he was beaten. The Citizen was threatening to torture or kill Agape if Bane didn't cooperate, and he knew it was no bluff. The enemy Adepts always made good on their most dire threats, if not on their promises.

"Free her," he whispered.

"You understand the necessary agreement?"

"Aye." Bane was enraged by the duplicity of the Citizen, but terrified by his cruelty. He had no choice.