Phaze Doubt

1 - Lysander

Lysander found his assigned seat in the shuttle as it commenced slow acceleration. The spaceship had been a liner, with individual cabins for each passenger, but the planetary shuttle was cramped in the manner of an atmospheric transport. Well, he was used to tight quarters, after his time in the laboratory.

He hesitated, glancing at the young human woman in the adjacent seat. She was in the process of getting out of her dress by working it up past her legs and buttocks. “Please, excuse me, if it is not an imposition—“

She looked up at him, pausing in her labor. She had short curly black hair and dark brown pupils, in those respects almost matching him. But what was coming into view below didn’t match. “Am I embarrassing you?” she inquired brightly.

“No, I am most interested. Your form strikes me as pulchritudinous.”

She blinked. “What?”

Evidently he had used the wrong term. “Of aesthetic outline. Comely. Subject to admiration. Incitive of sexual ambition.”

She smiled. “Attractive?”

“Yes, thank you. That must be the operative term.”

“You’re not from this neighborhood,” she remarked.

“This is a perceptive observation. Indeed I am not. But you—you are a native of the upcoming planet?”

“Yes. In a manner. I’m a serf. We don’t wear clothing.”

“Now I understand. I read the handbook. I will be a serf too, to earn what I need to be recognized as an independent individual. But would you be willing to exchange seats? I have little experience of planetfall and would like to gaze out the window.”

“Oh, of course. I’ve seen it before.” She got up and stepped to the center aisle, her dress remaining halfway up. Lysander took the seat she had occupied. Then she lifted her dress the rest of the way off, over her head, leaving only pink bra and panties. She was a well-endowed female, quite appealing in that limited outfit. She folded the dress carefully and took the outer seat.

“Thank you,” Lysander said. “May I introduce myself? I am Lysander, from Planet Grenadier. I am a specialist in robot feed back circuitry.”

“Alyc,” she responded. “That’s A-L-Y-C, not ALICE. We serfs have little of our own except our names. I’m assistant what ever for Citizen Blue. Not in your class, I guess.”

“Class?”

“I’m not educated like you. I just help with housework and cooking and whatever, as I said. I never got beyond regular schooling.”

He smiled. “There may be a misunderstanding. I did not have schooling. I am an android.”

She stared at him momentarily, startled. “You’re joking!”

“My humor is limited, as it is in all my kind. My body was generated in the laboratory.”

“But androids are, well, not smart. You don’t talk at all like that!”

“Perhaps that is because my brain is fully organic. It was taken from a living creature and implanted in the android body in the manner of a cyborg. I was pre-educated in the laboratory so my only challenge was learning to use the body.”

“That’s fascinating!” she said. “I never heard of an android cyborg!”

“So as you understand, I am not in your class, not being a proper man. I have existed in this form only two years.”

She was gazing at him with increasing interest. “You haven’t had social experience on your own world?”

“I am not entirely certain what you mean. I am conversant with the appropriate modes for eating, eliminating, sleeping—“

“Man/woman,” she said. “Interaction.”

“I have been instructed on the mechanism for copulation.”

Alyc laughed. “Dating. Dancing. Kissing.”

“The mechanisms for relating the local calendar to current events, or—“ He saw by her expression that he was not reflecting her intent. “I suspect not.”

“Would you like to start with me? I mean, until you get into things in Phaze?”

“Phase? To be in phase, or out of phase?”

She laughed again. “Phaze. With a z. The magic part of Proton.”

“Magic? I think I must misunderstand.”

“So you don’t know about that. Well, I guess they haven’t bruited it about, offplanet. You’ll see. But what I meant was whether you would like to be my boyfriend, until you find a girl of your intellect?”

“But you are full human!” he protested. “My indoctrination is specific about the perils of miscegenation. I am obliged to inform any human person of my status as quasi-human.”

She turned earnestly to him. “I am a serf. And you will be too. We’re all equal, on Proton: humans, robots, cyborgs, androids, and aliens. All naked, too; will you be able to handle that?”

He frowned. “The social—the types interact? I assumed that the social interaction was confined android to android, and man to woman, in practice.”

“You are a man, Lysander, as I’m sure I can show you. The only forbidden interaction is disobedience to a Citizen. Of course serfs don’t normally marry, but they do have relationships. So—“ She looked at him questioningly.

“In that case, yes, I would like to be your social friend. As I remarked, your physique is attractive.”

“Oh, I’m so pleased!” she exclaimed. “I’m sure it will be very nice, the little time it lasts.”

“These affiliations are of limited duration?”

“With me they are. You see, I like smart men, and I can attract them at first, but they always leave me for smarter women.”

“I apologize in advance for doing that.”

She started to laugh, but changed her mind, remembering that he wasn’t much for humor. “Well, let’s make it count.” She leaned over to kiss him.

“Secure belts for landing.” It was the shuttle announcer system, giving warning of higher acceleration. The vessel had been accelerating at just under one gee throughout, backward, its jets toward the planet. In this manner it had reduced the momentum it had started with at the ship. But now it had to make planetfall, and that would require more than one gee.

“Never fails,” Alyc said. “Just when things get interesting.” She kissed him quickly and settled back into her seat, fishing for her harness.

Lysander heeded the directive, and snapped his own seat harness about his humanoid body, glancing around as he did so. The other passengers were all humanoid, most of them seeming to be fully human beings, some seeming to be robots. This was hardly surprising, since Proton was a human colony; few creatures of planets other than Earth found it compatible. Gravity, atmosphere, diurnal cycle, light intensity, and temperature range closely matched those of the colonizing planet.

“Is it all right if I watch the approach?” he asked. “I am of course interested in what you propose, but you will remain, while the vision of the landing will be fleeting.”

“Of course it’s all right,” she said, after a slight hesitation. “I’ll just hold your hand, meanwhile.”

Lysander peered out of the old-fashioned porthole. They were approaching the planet obliquely, and he had an excellent view of it. He was indeed fascinated by it.

The odd thing about Planet Proton was that its South Pole pointed directly toward its sun, always. Most planets in most systems rotated in the planes of their ecliptics, so that their equators were warmest and their poles coldest. Some were skew, so that their poles were alternately heated as they proceeded through their years. But Proton acted as if it were on a fixed axle extending from the star, in seeming defiance of the laws of physics.

The acceleration increased. Gee rose to about 1.5. His right hand felt odd. He tore his eyes away from the porthole and looked at it.

Alyc was holding his arm to her bosom and kissing his hand. It was warmth of her breath on his fingers that had distracted him. Relieved that it was nothing serious—sometimes this body reacted in odd ways to stress, and 1.5 gee was a type of stress—he returned his gaze to the porthole.

What Lysander found hard to figure was how the planet maintained a regular day-night cycle. With the sunlight coming always toward the South Pole, there should be no changes; the southern hemisphere should always be day, the northern hemisphere night. Yet that was not the case. The planet acted as if the light were turned at right angles, and it cast its night shadow to the side. The manual indicated that scientists had never been able to agree exactly how this was possible, but it was so. The prevailing theory of the moment was that the planet acted with respect to light like a black hole, bending the light ninety degrees without affecting anything else. This left formidable questions unanswered, but was the best that was offered. Apparently no competent local study had been undertaken to resolve the mystery.

Then the shuttle changed orientation. The planet seemed to swing back and out of sight. They were coming down to the surface. There was nothing of interest to be seen now.

Alyc still had his hand. She was licking it. Lysander tried to remember whether this was normal procedure, but found no applicable facet. He had to assume that it was within tolerance for the species.

Alyc saw him looking. “I’m sorry,” she said. “High-gee makes me nervous.” She removed her mouth, but did not let go of his hand.

A stress reaction. He filed the information in a facet. Others might have different mechanisms of coping. Still, it was possible that it was not the mere availability of more intelligent companions that caused males to leave this woman.

The gee increased. Then there was a bump, and the gee reverted to one. They were down.

Alyc relaxed. She released Lysander’s hand. “I feel so much safer on solid land,” she said. “Low-gee or high-gee just—“ She shrugged. Then she touched the center of the bra, and it separated and fell away. “We might as well wait for the others to clear,” she said, nodding her head at the people now stepping into the aisle.

Lysander noted that a number of the others had done as Alyc had, and were now naked. They carried their clothing bundled under their arms. They seemed to have no luggage.

Alyc drew up her legs, bending the knees. In a moment she had worked the panties off. “You might as well strip here,” she said. “That way, they’ll think you’re a returning serf, like me, and you won’t have to go through the indoctrination routine.”

Lysander nodded. He preferred to avoid attention. He started to get out of his clothes, awkwardly, in the seat.

Alyc jumped to help him. Her hands touched his body caressingly, not shying away from the genital region.

“I am not certain this is wise,” he said.

“Oh, no, it’s better to strip now,” she assured him.

“The presence of your hands is causing a reaction,” he explained.

“Oh, that’s right—you’re new here. You think naked is sexy!”

“I was under that impression. Am I mistaken?”

“Yes, here. Serfs aren’t sexy, they’re dull. We really have to work at it to get sexy. Clothing helps a lot; I got so heated up the first time I went offplanet—“ She shrugged again. “But I know it’s the other way around, with you. I can take care of it, though. Just get naked so I can—“

He realized that she intended to proceed to a sexual engagement. Human interest in the act declined after it had been indulged. But he foresaw points of awkwardness, because he understood that such an act was normally done in a private place, and would attract some attention if done publicly. Also, his inexperience was likely to contribute to miscues. It would be better to avoid it at this time.

However, he did not wish to walk out of the ship in an obvious state of sexual excitement; that too might attract attention.

He would have to draw on his true nature to turn it off. “I think I am adapting to the culture,” he said. “Allow me a moment.”

“If you wish.” She seemed disappointed.

He reverted to his core facet. Now he saw things as he would if in his natural body, rather than as the humanoid body did. He opened the two eye segments available and looked at the woman.

She was completely repulsive. A mat of long fur sprouted from the top and rear of her head to dangle around the auditory flaps and the jaw bone, tufts of it coiling of their own accord. Her breathing orifice projected, and her eyes were rounded and set in sockets. Assorted white teeth showed within the peeling gash of her sustenance intake orifice. Substantial bags of flesh hung around her front. She had two massive upper limbs and a bifurcate base.

He shut off the eyes; the awful vision was too strong. If he allowed it to go further, he would be unable to function in this alien society, and therefore unable to pursue his mission.

He stood and quickly completed the disrobing. He had no sexual interest in the female now. He hoped he would be able to damp down the vision of her fleshy nature when the time came, as it inevitably would, to indulge in the way she preferred.

“I guess you did adapt,” Alyc said. “Well, maybe some other time. It isn’t too good in a shuttle, anyway, I think.” She evidently would have been glad to make a trial of it, however.

“Yes. Now I must enter the city and seek employment.”

“You don’t have a job yet?” she asked.

“I understand that employment is inevitable. Was I required to achieve it before coming?”

“Oh, no! I just thought maybe you had been brought in for your expertise. A special assignment.”

“No, I merely wish to achieve a suitable situation, in a culture that accepts androids more readily than does my own.”

“Then maybe you can apply for work with Citizen Blue!” she exclaimed, delighted. “He’s a good employer, really he is! He’s very generous. Most Citizens don’t allow their serfs offplanet until their terms are up and they have to go, forever, but he let me travel.”

Lysander frowned, though this was exactly what he wished. “Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest?”

She was preceding him down the aisle, her fleshy posterior shifting its masses in ways that threatened to alienate him again. He focused his two eyes on her face as it turned halfway back toward him. “Conflict?” she asked, perplexed.

“If you and I are to have an association, wouldn’t that disallow employment by the same Citizen?”

She laughed, as she so readily did. “No way! Citizens don’t care about serf interactions. Just so long as they do what they’re told. The only trouble is when a Citizen wants a serf-girl for sex and doesn’t want anyone else using her. But Blue isn’t like that; he’s true to his wife, as he has been for twenty years.”

“She must be a remarkable woman.”

“She’s a robot. They have a son.” She paused, waiting for his reaction.

He made it, as they left the shuttle and passed into the interior chamber of the spaceport. “A robot had a son?”

“The son’s a robot too,” she explained. “Her name is Sheen, and his is Mach. Mach-Sheen, Machine, you see; it’s sort of a pun, only nobody laughs. And he’s married to an alien female, and they have a daughter, Nepe. Only it’s more complicated than that.”

“I think that’s as complicated as I can assimilate,” Lysander said ruefully. He glanced around the large chamber. Sure enough, only the clothed parties were being challenged; the naked ones were ignored. “So you believe that Citizen Blue might employ me, if he has use for my abilities?”

“He sure might!” she said enthusiastically. “I can ask him for you!”

“Is this normal procedure? I understand that I should register for employment, and that if I did not obtain it within three days I would be summarily dismissed from the planet. I admit this is a concern.”

“You register, but Blue will ask for you, if I ask him, maybe,” she said.

“In that case, by all means ask him,” Lysander agreed.

“Oh, this is working out so well!” she said, taking his hand and holding it as they walked side by side.

Lysander was coming to understand better why Alyc’s liaisons tended to be brief. She was quite open, and perhaps possessive, offering her wares too rapidly, so that her store was quickly exhausted. But this was extremely convenient now. He had received instruction in the laboratory, but had no direct experience, so her forward attitude enabled him to learn quickly without a great risk of error.

She brought him to a registration desk at the spaceport. “Check in here, and they’ll give you a three-day permit,” she explained. “Then I’ll take you to Blue.”

He approached the desk. “May I register for employment?”

The naked woman behind the desk glanced at him, bored. “Name and planet of origin?”

“Lysander of Grenadier.”

She glanced at a terminal screen. “Right. Android. Your specialties are games and computer circuitry. Put your eyes to the window.”

She had a detail wrong, but it seemed expedient to let it pass. He was trained in robotic feedback circuitry, which related to programming rather than hardware.

There was a panel with a scanning window. He put his face to it, knowing that the scanner would record his retinal patterns and match them to those of his listed identity. Such identification could be counterfeited only by the replacement of the eyeballs, which was more trouble than the average intruder would care to undertake. Androids were standardized in many respects, including the immune system, so they could take eyeball transplants more readily than full humans could. But all android retinal patterns were registered, so unless the paperwork was in order, a transplant was useless for any purpose other than correcting a defect in vision.

“Are you familiar with local protocol?” the woman asked as he stepped away from the window. The scan had checked, of course.

“I believe so. I go naked, address every Citizen as sir, and do what I’m told.”

“There are details. Are you aware, for example, that magic is operative here?”

“Prestidigitation is a game skill I have developed. It will be interesting to compare local techniques.”

The woman’s mouth turned wry. “This is more than that. Perhaps you should take the indoctrination course.”

“I’m helping him,” Alyc put in. “I’m Alyc, employee of Citizen Blue. May I call the Citizen now?”

“If you wish.” The woman turned a videophone screen toward her.

“Alyc calling Citizen Blue,” she said to the screen.

The clerk’s eyebrow elevated. “You expect him to answer you direct?”

A woman’s face appeared on the screen. Her eyes were green and her hair brown, fading to bleached strands at her shoulders. The lines about her face and neck indicated that she was no young, but she remained beautiful. “You’re back, Alyc!” she said with evident pleasure. “Was it a good trip?”

“Yes, Sheen. But funny wearing clothes. I’m glad to be back Could—could I talk to the Citizen, please?”

The clerk made a tiny shake of her head at this audacity. I was obvious that smart serfs did not push their luck like this.

A man’s face came on the screen. There was no question o his age; he was at least in his fifties, but his eyes were alert The collar of a shirt was visible at the base of the picture; hi was clothed, therefore a Citizen. “Yes, Alyc.”

The clerk’s jaw dropped slightly. She turned away.

“Sir, I met a man on the ship back, and maybe you could hire him.”

The Citizen’s countenance quirked in what was becoming o< Lysander a familiar expression in those who spoke to Alyc: that one assumed when dealing with a child or harmless animal that had intruded on the carpet. “Perhaps. Who is he?”

“Lysander. He knows about computers and games, though—“

“He is present?”

“Right here, sir,” she said eagerly, moving aside so that the Citizen could look at Lysander.

Blue nodded. “No promise, Alyc. But bring him here.”

“Oh, thank you, sir!” she exclaimed, actually jumping in he excitement. But the Citizen’s glance at Lysander, as the image faded on the screen, was disconcertingly sharp. This was going to be far more chancy than the registration had been!

Alyc led him out of the spaceport to a public transport car. It was half filled with naked humanoids, with a few machines of various configurations. All the human beings were in good health, none fat; it was obvious that the governing Citizens did not encourage over-indulgence. In fact, this seemed to be a well-run planet.

“About magic,” Lysander said. “What did the clerk mean about that? You mentioned it on the shuttle but did not clarify your reference.”

“About a year ago the frames merged,” Alyc said brightly. “Citizen Blue did it, to stop the Contrary Citizens from taking over and ruining everything. That was just before I came here, so I don’t know how it was before, but it certainly is nice now. Anyway, science works, and magic works. It’s a lot of fun.”

“My education, as I said, was programmed. My brain was in effect force-fed with the language of this planet and the general nature of the galaxy, and the necessary skills of survival were inculcated. Perhaps I missed something. Magic is generally known as a fraud, something that can not possibly operate as claimed. It is nonsensical by definition. Therefore I wish to know what is meant by the term here, as it can not be what I mean by it.”

She smiled knowingly. “Brother, have you got a learning experience coming!”

“You propose to show me actual magic?”

“Well, not me personally. It’s mostly only those who have been here a long time who can do it, especially the mergees. But I’m sure—“

“Mergees?”

“Oh, this gets complicated! You see, there were these two frames, Proton and Phaze—with the z, remember?—and they were sort of separated, and in one science worked and in the other magic worked. The people, a lot of them were the same, I mean people in Proton had other selves in Phaze, who did magic. But then they merged, and all the people merged too, and now they—well, wait till you meet Mach/Bane and Fleta/Agape!”

“MacBane and Fleta who?”

“They—you won’t believe me until you see it. Meanwhile just take my word: there’s magic here now, because the land; merged too. But they say a lot of it only works once, so they don’t do it much, except for the natural shape changing.”

“I will take your word,” Lysander said, hoping she did no catch the cynicism. She had not seemed crazy before! In due course they arrived at the section of the city that housed Citizen Blue’s estate. Lysander was surprised to find it ordinary; there was no ostentation. His respect for the Citizen grew, and hi dismay; he was not at all sure he could fool this man.

“You look nervous,” Alyc remarked. “I know how it is! I was so scared when I first came here I thought I’d do something, in my pants—and I didn’t have any. But Blue is just great; you’ll like him.”

Lysander doubted it.

“And we can be together,” she continued cheerily. “I’ll show you around everywhere. Blue does that; he lets newcomers break in easy.”

That was more appealing. The longer he had before he had to get serious about his mission, the better it would be.

He assumed that they would be admitted to some outer chamber, where the citizen would interview him by video. This was not the case. They were ushered instead into the main apartment, where Citizen Blue and Sheen stood waiting.

Sheen stepped forward and hugged Alyc as if she were a de friend. Sheen was a robot, but this was hardly apparent; s seemed as womanly as it was possible to be.

“Did you have a nice visit home, dear?” Sheen inquired.

“Yes!” Alyc agreed with her customary vigor. “Mom to; me I needed to eat more, I was thin as a reed!” This was laughable; she was about as well fleshed as she could be without sacrificing sex appeal.

“Don’t listen to her,” Sheen said, smiling. “Men prefer thee. Speaking of which—this is your new young man?” Her eyes turned to Lysander.

“Yes—as of an hour past,” Lysander said. “She has been helping me get adapted.”

“She does that,” Sheen agreed. She turned back to Alyc. “Let’s go get reacquainted with Agnes. The men may want to talk.”

The two naked women walked to another room, leaving Lysander with the Citizen. Citizen Blue was a tiny man, a head shorter than average, though not so small as to be a dwarf. He wore an open shirt and casual trousers, with slipper-type shoes. On any other humanoid planet he would have been dismissed as a man of no consequence. Here the clothing made him a figure of stature.

Yet even if Blue had been naked, his bearing would have set him apart. The man had power, and it seemed to imbue him with a presence that was not to be ignored. Lysander presumed that this was typical of Citizens in general, but perhaps especially of this one, because he knew that Blue was not just any Citizen. He was the Citizen—the leading figure of the planet. That was why his ready accessibility was surprising. Surely there were bodyguards watching, or killer laser beams oriented on the visitor; the Citizen would not leave himself open to the mischief of a stranger.

“Sit down, Lysander,” Blue said, and took a seat himself.

Lysander sat opposite, in one of the simple plastic chairs. This was no social visit; it was an employment interview. It was also, more critically, a test. If Blue had any notion of Lysander’s true mission—

“Your meeting with Alyc was no coincidence,” the Citizen said.

And there it was, already. “No, sir,” Lysander agreed.

“Please explain.”

“I have special training. My planet—the authorities there-wish to upgrade their computer technology, especially with regard to self-willed robots. They feel that solid experience with advanced systems should help. When they discovered that a servant of a family including two self-willed robots was returning to Proton, they felt the opportunity was too good to be allowed to pass. So they arranged for me to be seated beside that servant, who was known to be friendly to handsome men.”

“And you were created handsome,” Blue said.

“Yes, sir. My body is android, crafted on ideal humanoid lines. My brain is animal, so that I do not suffer the typical dysfunction of androids.”

“You are using Alyc as an avenue to employment here?”

“No, sir. That is, the intent was to befriend her, and so have better access to those who are in a position to guarantee my employment in my specialty. It was known that you support your employees, so if you felt her situation would be improved by my retention as a serf on this planet, you would arrange it. But actual employment by you—“

“She surprised you by being too helpful,” Blue said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Your background checks out. We can use you. But I take exception to the mechanism of your acquaintance with Alyc. She is vulnerable to exploitation, especially by a male such as yourself. She wears her heart on her sleeve, as one of our ancient sayings puts it, but she is not an unworthy person. What are your intentions toward her?”

“I have no present emotional commitment, sir. If you direct me to disassociate with her, I will do so.”

“I do not make directives of that nature.”

“Then I would prefer to explore the association she proffers, sir. I am inexperienced in social and sexual interactions, as I was crafted two years ago and have spent the majority of my awareness in training. I believe she could show me much I lack.”

“And when you have had the experience?”

“She has informed me that her associations are generally brief, because men come to prefer more intelligent women. My interest is in my specialty rather than in any social situation. I see no reason to break with her unless that is her preference.”

“These things are not necessarily predictable,” the Citizen said. “I loved a human woman, but later lost that love, and associated with Sheen instead. If your interest changes, you should do as you wish. I only ask that you give Alyc a fair chance, and if you have occasion to change women, that you set her down gently.”

“I shall do that, sir.”

“Then go and tour the planet,” Blue said. “Alyc will show you the landmarks. Familiarize yourself with our conventions before settling down to your specialty.”

“But sir, with all due respect, I have only three days to find employment. If I squander it—“

Blue silenced him with a slightly elevated hand. “I apologize, Lysander. I thought you understood. You have been registered as my employee. My suggestion was in the nature of a directive.”

Lysander stared at him, for the moment too surprised to speak.

The Citizen smiled. “You are new here. That is why you need to familiarize yourself with our culture. Let me anticipate Alyc with this one caution: when a Citizen speaks to you, take him literally. Never protest the case, unless you are sure you know something he doesn’t which might affect the case. In all other circumstances, simply ignore a Citizen, except to stay out of his way.

“I apologize for transgressing, sir,” Lysander said, embarrassed.

“And don’t apologize to a Citizen; that presumes sufficient status to make it meaningful.”

“Yes, sir,” Lysander said, embarrassed again.

“And do not speak at all unless he requires it of you.”

Lysander was silent.

Blue laughed. “There is no offense, Lysander. Merely a demonstration. Come, we shall join the ladies.” He got up, and Lysander immediately stood also.

Blue glanced at him. “Did I tell you to stand?”

“No, sir,” Lysander said hastily, sitting down again.

“But it was implied. I invited you to join the ladies, which you would find awkward to do if you remained seated. But if you stood merely because I did, you were in error.”

Lysander stood again, silently. He suspected he was flushing the full length of his body.

Blue clapped him on the shoulder. “A few days with Alyc will enable you to get everything straight. But your specialty may attract the interest of other Citizens, or I may contact you myself in that period, and I would not want to be embarrassed by having an employee who seemed uncertain of relevant protocol. I can not say I approve of all the details of our system, but others do, and that makes appearances important. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Exactly.” Blue showed the way to the other room.

An older maid was serving a beverage at a table. “This is Agnes, maid and friend,” Blue said. “In the absence of myself and my wife, she is the ranking figure of this household, and you will honor any request she makes of you.”

Lysander nodded to Agnes, but did not speak. They took places at the table.

Alyc glanced at the Citizen as if wanting to say something. Blue nodded. “Sir, Lysander doesn’t believe in magic.”

The Citizen frowned. “And you had the audacity to associate with him?”

Sheen smiled. Lysander, taking his cue from her, smiled also.

“Yes, sir,” Alyc said, abashed. “I thought maybe—“

“This sounds like a job for my granddaughter,” Blue said.

“Yes, sir.”

“You can spare him for an hour?”

“Yes, sir!” Alyc said, happy.

“But you know he will never be the same, once Nepe finishes with him.”

“Don’t tease her, dear,” Sheen reproved Blue. He smiled. It was obvious that Alyc was quite satisfied to be teased by this man.

The Citizen nodded to Agnes, who left the room. Then they settled down to their beverage, which turned out to be pseudo-wine. This had the flavor and texture of something vintage, but no alcoholic content. Lysander was interested to see that Sheen drank it too. She was the perfect woman, machine though she was.

Lysander saw a problem on the horizon. These were likeable people, and he liked them. That was apt to be awkward, when he had to act.