Unicorn Point

8 - Bane

Uncle Bane! An I commune with Nepe, my dam be killed! Bane, in the process of exchanging with Mach, felt as if he had been knocked out of the connection. He stood in Proton, tuning in, but there was nothing more.

Mach! he thought after a moment. Didst thou hear?

Yes. That was Flach.

Ne ‘er did he send to me before! Dost believe he tells truth ?

Yes. I think we now know why the two have ceased contact.

Bane pondered momentarily, as things fell into place. Wouldst call it a violation o’ the covenant?

Yes. Our wives were not to be threatened. Then thou hast aught to do in Phaze, and I in Proton.

Agreed. We must not commune again until it is done. Thus quickly had their loyalties changed. They had known almost from the outset that they served the wrong side, but had been bound to it by honor. Now that the Adepts—and surely the Citizens—had violated the terms, the two of them were free to do what they wished. They would join Stile and Blue.

They communed no more, for any prolonged contact at this stage would become suspicious. The Adepts and Citizens could monitor the fact of their contact, but not its substance, just as they could monitor the children’s contacts. For a long time the children had communed without being detected, because they did it only when Mach and Bane were communing, and made no separate signal. But after Flach and Nepe exchanged, and almost secured their freedom despite the net closing on Flach, their amazing ability was known, and the monitoring technique had quickly been refined to distinguish their contacts from those of Mach and Bane. But this single communication was so surprising that Bane knew no provision had been made for it. Flach sending to Bane! And what a message! At one stroke this had solved the riddle of the children’s recent attitude, and sundered the agreement that bound Mach and Bane to the forces opposing Stile and Blue. The parity of the impasse had supposedly been replaced by the parity of mutual connections between the frames. Now it was evident that one side was cheating, in an effort to make the critical breakthrough and assume power.

Bane kept his face straight as he pondered this. He had no trouble concealing his emotions, in this robot body! He had to act normal until he decided how to proceed. If Fleta was threatened in Phaze, Agape would be similarly threatened in Proton.

Yet how was this possible? Neither Mach nor Bane had set up anything like this in either frame—and they represented the only contact the Citizens and Adepts had between frames. Fleta might indeed be in danger in Phaze, but how could Agape be under a similar threat?

Bane knew the Citizens: they would have made it tight. Somehow they had done it; he could not afford to assume otherwise. Perhaps they had made Flach send to Nepe—

But Nepe would not have relayed such a message to the Citizens! A death threat against her mother? She was an amazingly clever girl, and even a stupid one would have realized that the threat could only be real if she told the Citizens. She would have kept it quiet, thus defusing it. How, then? He came to no answer, yet he was sure there was one. Meanwhile he was proceeding to his rendezvous with Tania, to make his routine report. He smiled internally, grimly. For the past four years, in Proton, Tania had been his liaison with the Citizens. She had tried to seduce Mach, suggesting that he had no woman in Proton and that she was appropriate. Mach had consistently put her off, but never with prejudice, because she could make a lot of mischief if she chose. Bane had made it clear that his love was in Proton, and he would consider nothing else. Still, it had been evident that she would take either of them if she could.

He had agreed with Mach to say nothing to her or anyone else in Proton of the situation with Tania in Phaze. Only to Agape, from whom he kept no secrets, and Troubot, who could be trusted. Troubot! Who had turned out to be Nepe! But still could be trusted.

In Phaze, Tania had used her blandishments openly, and despite the defensive spell Mach had given him, he had felt the impact. When it had become apparent that her ploy had reversed, and she had fallen in love with him, it had been hard not to yield to some degree. When she adopted what he considered to be decent ways, leaving her cynicism and cruelty behind, he was impressed despite his suspicion that this was artifice. When she befriended Fleta he had been more impressed, for Fleta was exceedingly choosey about her associations.

He wished he could discuss the matter with Agape. To what extent was there merit in the proposition that the two frames were separate, and that a man could have a woman in each? Stile and Blue, as alternate selves, had different women. But Mach and Bane, as alternate selves, already had different women. For each to have two—that seemed too much of a stretch of ethics. Yet the temptation existed. Now he realized that Tania could be useful. He knew a lot about the one in Proton, because of his experience with the one in Phaze. He was sure he could get her help, if it could be done covertly. Perhaps she had been involved in Flach’s action in sending the message; she was there with Fleta in Phaze, now, because the Adepts suspected her of trying to let Flach escape the net. The boy would not have known what to do about the threat against his mother, but Tania’s more cynical mind could have handled it. Still, he could not see the boy confiding in her, so that matter remained in doubt. Could he trust her?

He reached Tan’s office. Tania was there alone; the pro vocative serf secretary was absent.

He decided to gamble on her. “Tania,” he said without preamble, “I need thy help.” He knew that this was private; the office was always sealed off from unwanted intrusion.

She was surprised. “What, no sneer today. Bane?”

“Swear to me that thou willst betray my confidence not, and I will tell thee much that interests thee.” Her eyes assumed the look of those of her other self, though they lacked the magic power.

“You want me to do something for you, and not tell, and you will tell me what I want to know? I believe I am safe in assuming that you are not think ing of asking me for sex.”

“Aye. I promise naught more, but I think it be enough.”

“I don’t trust this. Bane. You never gave me the time of day before.”

“I ne’er had need, before.”

She walked around the room, considering. Bane, accustomed in youth to the clothing of Phaze, had never completely adjusted to the nudity of Proton serfs. She looked exactly like her other self, except for her lack of clothing, and he found that illicitly fascinating despite all the deliberate glimpses her other self had proffered. In Phaze he had a spell to ward off her seductions; here he did not. “I won’t kill anyone, or do anything against my side,” she said.

“It be against thy side.”

She laughed. “And why would you suppose I would do that?”

“Because, an thou didst, I might pursue thy case with Mach.”

She halted abruptly. “You’re serious!”

“Aye.”

“Listen, Bane—if I go against my side, I can wind up dead!”

“An they learn o’ it, aye. But things be changing, and mayhap the other side would protect thee.”

She stared at him. “Are you changing sides? What of the covenant?”

“Swear, and we deal.”

She paced again, and he watched her breasts and buttocks moving. She had been foolish to go after Mach, when she could have had any other man she chose. But perversity was evidently her basic component. She was fascinated with the notion of Phaze, and of magic, and with the notion of power; thus Mach became the object of her interest. Had there been any other available male with similar connections, she would have been as interested in that one. Indeed, her other self pursued Bane, because of his connection with Proton. Then she nodded. “I’m a fool. I swear.”

“In Phaze thine other self hast spent the past four years seeking to seduce me, just as thou hast done with Mach. Thine actions have been parallel. But with her the ploy turned; instead of corrupting me, she fell in love herself, and her nature changed. She be in bad grace with the Adverse Adepts, because she tried not hard enough to capture the lad Flach, Nepe’s other self.”

Tania nodded. “So you believe I am similarly vulnerable, and ready to help you.”

“Aye.”

“Aye,” she echoed ironically. “Damn it, I know it’s true; I felt her emotion. I echo it. I do want Mach—and Phaze, as she wants you and Proton. We are locked in this foolishness, letting a man rule us instead of the other way around. And you—you gave her no more satisfaction than Mach has me!”

“Aye.”

Those eyes bore on him again. “But did you wish to?”

Bane was silent.

“You promised to tell. Bane! I need to know.”

“Mach gave me a spell to ward her off. I ne’er touched her.”

“You still haven’t answered! Did you want to?”

“Aye,” he said reluctantly. “When I returned here to Agape, at times she teased me, assuming her likeness.”

“My likeness! And you had sex with her like that?”

“Aye,” he said, even more reluctantly. “But I knew it was Agape, else ne’er would I—”

“You desire me now!” she exclaimed triumphantly.

“I love thee not!”

“Again you haven’t answered! You desire me!”

“Thou knowest I may not answer that.”

She nodded, satisfied. “And Mach would wish to—?”

“Aye.” That much he could fairly answer.

She nodded again. “You were right. This interests me. If I help you, Mach may have reason to treat me more compatibly. And, judging by you, he would also have the desire.”

It was his turn to nod.

Then she glanced at him sharply. “And what of you, if Mach is dealing similarly in Phaze?”

“I would have to talk with Agape.”

“Who might not understand,” she said, smiling.

“Who might understand too well.”

She laughed. “What do you want me to do?”

The worst was over. “Make a reservation for departure from this planet.”

“You could do that yourself!”

“And yield that berth to Agape.”

She sobered. “Then you know.”

There was his confirmation that Agape was similarly threatened. “Aye.”

“But she can’t just walk out, you know. The moment she steps beyond her suite—”

“Aye.”

“And the child. She won’t leave the child behind, after losing her for so long.”

“That be a separate problem.”

“And you. You had better be gone the same time.”

“Aye.”

“And me. They’ll know as soon as it happens, and I’ll be finished.”

“Thou must go to Blue for asylum.”

She faced him squarely. “If I do this, and Mach does not settle with me, you do.”

“I can not!”

“I am not putting my life and career in jeopardy without that promise. I save Agape, one of you owes me, and you know how. In fact, Mach never settled for his prior debt to me, and this makes two. Both of you owe, now. No loop hole.”

He had not even come to terms with what Mach might commit him to in Phaze, and now he had to deal with it in Proton. But he knew her, and knew she would not yield. She wanted what she could get of Phaze, and she was used to hard dealing.

He thought of Agape, and knew he had to do it. “Aye.”

She went to the desk and checked the screen. “Do you care where she goes?”

“Nay, I care only that she not be suspected. She will assume thy likeness. Once away, she may change her route.”

“Of course. Then here’s a ship to ConGlom; I go there on occasion for relaxation. It’s fun to be able to wear clothes, oflplanet; I have a trousseau there she may draw on.”

“An they catch on, they will seek that planet. She dare not use thy trousseau.”

She shrugged as she touched a button. “Reservation made; that ship leaves the port in two hours. I will go there, and if she doesn’t board, I will, to cover my complicity. Tell her to meet me in a privacy stall—let’s say number four hundred and one. Can she get there fifteen minutes before boarding?”

“She must.”

She left the desk and approached him. She kissed him, and he had to accept it. He felt guilty for liking it. “Nice doing business with you. Bane. Now our time is up; go meet your love.”

He left the office. The first step had been taken. Tania was a sharp, motivated woman; she had understood immediately, and driven her hard bargain. But this was a three-step project, being formulated on the spur. Step one: get Agape away. Step two: get Nepe away. Step three: get himself away. Each step had more than one substep, and any misstep could be disastrous. Had there been only one, he could have taken Agape to Citizen Blue for sanctuary. As it was, that sanctuary would have to be saved for the last resort.

He had to try something he had never tried before. If it failed, he would have to try something else, but he had no notion what. He had never thought this action was possible, until Flach had called to him mentally; that should mean that no one else had thought of it either. That was a critical advantage—if it worked.

Nepe! he called mentally, as if contacting his other self across the frame. Nepe!

Daddy! she responded immediately.

Contact! Just like that! But he couldn’t pause to savor it. I know the threat. I be changing sides. Help me get thy mother offplanet.

She doesn ‘t know! They are watching. Oh, Daddy, I didn ‘t dare tell—

Aye. We needs must ship her to the spaceport, concealed. The flight to ConGlom within two hours. She must exchange with Tania in booth 401. Tell her that.

But they will not let her go! They are watching the apartment!

Yes. We must ship her out concealed. Order a monstrous vat o’ ice cream mix—

Got it. Daddy! But they call in every hour—

Thou willst have to emulate her for the screen.

Can do! Tell Troubot to make the delivery; he ‘II know what to do.

But thou wert Troubot! There be no…

Trust me. Daddy! He exists. He’s hiding, but go to this address and speak this code, and he will come. She rattled off the information, which Bane, with his computer brain, memorized instantly.

Once Agape be out, needs we must act quickly, he thought.

Sure!

That was it; they had no time for conversation. He went to the address, which fortunately was not far out of his route to the suite.

It turned out to be a storage region, where supplies of food, medicine and machine accessories were kept on a temporary basis, for immediate access by local service machines. The robots operating here were low grade, possessing no sentience; as long as he did not interfere with them, they had no awareness of his presence. There were no automatic recorders; such devices were expensive, and this was only a warehouse annex.

Nevertheless, he waited till no worker machines were in the immediate vicinity before acting. Then he spoke the code, quietly, not expecting any prompt response. Troubot was the name she had taken during her hiding; what could answer that call now?

A portage machine trundled by, carrying a load of packages of white powder. Bane stepped out of its way. “Troubot,” it murmured as it passed.

Well! “Make the delivery Nepe calls in,” he said.

Troubot stacked the bags and maneuvered to turn around.

“Of what nature?”

“Ten-gallon tub o’ ice cream.”

The machine trundled away toward the maintenance alcove, evidently to get an ice cream carrying body. Thus it would be ready to respond to the order, seemingly coincidentally.

Mach walked on out of the warehouse, unhurried. He merged with the traffic of the hall beyond: serfs, androids and lesser robots. There was always activity around warehouse areas, because the needs of Citizens and their serfs were constant. No sensors were tracking him at the moment; in the course of nine years he had come to know the capacities of this robot body well, and could now do things with it that Mach himself could not, because his living human mind was superior to the best that a machine mind could be. He could detect sensors, having modified this body some time back to do so. It was a great advantage! He had set things up, but he needed a pretext to dawdle while the ice cream was delivered. The Citizens would be least likely to suspect Agape of making her escape before Bane arrived to see her after two weeks’ absence. But it would be suspicious if he delayed; he normally had one thing in mind at such times. Well, he would not delay; he would be delayed by an out side party. It was time to exploit another hidden feature of this body.

He tuned in on a paging station. He sent a signal that mimicked its control sequence, as if a call were coming through. A call seeking Bane himself.

“Bane,” the loudspeakers of the vicinity blared. “Incoming call. Please pick up at convenient unit.”

“Damn!” Bane said, as if displeased. He walked to the nearest public phone station. “Bane here,” he snapped. “Be this call important? I be on my way to—“

“It will take only a moment,” a dulcet female voice cut in. He was generating it electronically in his own body, but it sounded authentic, and any recording would sound authentic also. It was almost impossible to trace the origin of local calls unless special procedures were invoked. “I am a visiting journalist, and I just wanted to—“

“I know thee not, nor any journalists,” he said.

“Look, I have been away for two weeks and have naught to—“

“Please, this will be very brief. I believe you are the only self-willed robot to have a—“

“I be not a rovot! I be a living man!”

“Beg pardon? I understood that—“

So it continued: his irate explanation that he was actually a man in a robot’s body, for an interviewer who had difficulty getting that straight. He played both parts with a certain vigor, pleased with his imagination. By the time he finally won free of the persistent caller, almost half an hour had passed, and he appeared fit to explode.

He hurried on to his rendezvous with Agape. By this time, he trusted, Nepe should have explained, Troubot would have arrived with the ice cream, and Agape would have rejected such a ridiculous order—and melted and gone out with Troubot in lieu of it. There was still about an hour to the departure of the ship for ConGlom: sufficient time to trundle there with out haste. All he had to do was make sure that the Citizens did not catch on before the ship took off. He reached the suite, and touched the panel. His hand was coded for it; it opened and let him in. He paused, checking the security. There were supposed to be no electronic spies operating within, but he never took that on faith. His own electronic mechanisms traced the circuits, verifying that all were accounted for. It was all right; nothing had changed. That meant that he could talk freely, here.

He entered the main chamber. Agape was there, standing behind a chair. He suffered a siege of alarm—then relaxed. “Very good, Nepe,” he said. “Thou dost resemble her exactly.”

“Did I fool you for an instant, Daddy?” she demanded eagerly.

“For an instant,” he agreed. “Longer, had I not known thou wouldst not fail me.” He strode across the room and enfolded her, embracing her as if she were her mother.

“Easy, Daddy,” she said. “I’m standing on the ice cream.” So she was. Her natural mass was less than half that of Agape, so she had perched on the top of the oblong container, and formed only that portion of the body from the narrowing of the waist up. She had done a superlative job; the breasts were full and perfect in their contours and heft, the arms were completely functional, and the neck and head so apt that it was hard to believe this was an emulation. Of course the original Agape was an emulation, which perhaps made it easier. Still, it was impressive.

“Thou hast done well, Nepe,” he said. “Maintain this emulation while I call out; I want them to know Agape is here with me.”

She remained as she was, while he crossed to the screen. She had positioned herself so that only her upper portion could be seen by the pickup. He activated it, knowing that the two-way connection would show his wife in the background. The Citizens would be monitoring this; their agents would be reassured, and no report would be made. But the moment the line was opened. Bane extended his electronic expertise. He tuned in on a nearby line reserved for Citizens, and fixed a limited diversion that would allow him to monitor it without being detected unless this specific device was suspected. This technology was not generally known; in fact, he was practicing the Proton equivalent of magic. Mach had become the Robot Adept, now far more talented in that respect than Bane. But Bane, unadvertised, had become the equivalent in Proton, and now he was drawing on these unique skills.

“Hold all calls, this hour,” he said. “Except from Citizens, of course.” Then he disconnected, not waiting for confirmation. This was his normal procedure; the nature of his first-hour activity was generally known. But now he had his secret loop established. Outsiders could neither call in nor spy on what happened here, but he would know what was going on outside. Already there was a stream of routine communications, as one Citizen contacted the office of another about some trifle. Mach monitored these on what in his living brain would have been a subconscious level; if any key reference occurred, he would be alerted. “Now thou mayest talk,” he told Nepe.

“Are you really changing sides. Daddy?” she asked, delighted. “How come?”

“The threats against thy mother and Fleta in Phaze repre sent a violation o’ our covenant. Mach and I agreed to serve the Adverse Adepts and Contrary Citizens in return for their protection and sanction o’ our liaisons with our chosen females. Since Mach made the first deal much has changed; he won the contest that required me to join him. But Stile’s opposition to Mach’s union with Fleta ended, so the original cause was gone; only our agreements held us. We have served loyally; as thou knowest, we finally did locate Flach and capture him, and through him, thee. But all along, we would have preferred to be on the other side. Evidently the Citizens and Adepts, knowing this, and balked for four years, decided to make one swift sweep and gain a permanent advantage by unethical means. They tried to conceal this from us, believing that they could secure the power they required in both frames before we realized. But Flach told me, and now I be acting, and Mach be acting, to remove ourselves and our loved ones from the enemy camp.”

“I’m glad, Daddy! I didn’t like hiding from you, but—”

“Each must serve the side he serves. Now we be united in purpose as well as in person, and needs must we plan for action. As soon as Agape be offplanet, we must get thee to Blue.”

“But what about you. Daddy? Once they find out, they will make you prisoner.”

“I have means o’ escape. Thou dost be the one we must free next. We can use not the ice cream ploy again. Mayhap we can send thee to a game while we—“ He hesitated.

“Daddy, I know what you do with Mommy. I kept track of you, those years, and Flach told me about Mach and Fleta.”

“How couldst thou keep track o’ that?” he asked, be mused. “E’en as Troubot, thou didst ne’er see the act.”

“Same way you keep track of the Citizens. In my metal aspect I learned some things about wiring.”

“Which doubtless be why it was so hard to find thee.”

“You never would have found me, if you hadn’t traced me through Flach,” she said smugly.

“But it be harder for thee to hide this time. An I send thee out, they will be watching.”

“I think you could carry me out, if I become part of you, like maybe a leg. Then you could use your blankout circuit to-”

“My what?”

“You know, the way you short around the circuits of the spybeams on you, and make yourself invisible to them. Then you could take me to Grandpa Blue—“ Bane was amazed again. How many of his secrets did she know? But probably that would work. By the time the Citizens realized that something was up, and checked the suite, they would find nothing there except ten gallons of ice cream mix.

“Very well. As soon as we be certain your mother be safe, and have not to emulate her any more—“ He broke off, for his intercept had just sent up a signal. . . . made the reservation while interviewing him, and now is heading for the spaceport. Better intercept her and find out whether this has anything to do with Bane. I’ll send a pair of androids with her person-code; there will be time.

“They be going to intercept and question Tania!” he ex claimed. “Must needs I stop that! Agape will be able to exchange with her not if there be androids there!”

“Go now. Daddy!” Nepe exclaimed. “I’ll cover!”

“What, for me?”

“I can do you too, with a few minutes to set up.” Already she was starting to change, her features melting.

“Thou dost be a wonder!” he said, stepping toward the portal. “I will return for thee when I can.”

“I’ll be waiting. Daddy,” she said bravely. He used his intercept circuit to tune in on the spy devices beyond the portal. In a moment he had nulled them without alerting their malfunction alarms. Then he opened the portal and stepped out.

A human serf was passing in the hall. Bane ignored him; it was only the spy device that counted. Later they might round up and question all serfs in the vicinity, and learn that Bane had been seen leaving, but by then it would be far too late.

He had little time. Agape would be meeting Tania about half an hour before the flight, and the androids could be arriving shortly before that, being dispatched from some local depot. The spaceport was a fair distance from this region. A walking pace would require at least an hour, and all he had was perhaps twenty minutes. A Citizen could readily get there in time, by taking private transport, but he was a serf. He had to have transportation—but the fast belts and rail tubes were all monitored, and he wasn’t sure he could remain in visible to them.

But he had an answer. He stepped into a service alcove. There was a hall-brushing machine, awaiting its call. It had a huge roller brush in front, and a large bin for refuse behind. Bane addressed it electronically, tapping into its commu nication circuit. He had talked verbally to Troubot, but then he had been walking openly; now he was hidden from electronic observation, and needed to remain so. Activate, he sent. Stand ready to accept load of refuse. Take that load via expedite route to spaceport depot and release it.

The sweeper did not question these orders. It hummed into its version of life and opened the lid to its refuse bin. Bane climbed up to stand in the bin. It was too small for him to hide in, being only half his height and too narrow to allow him to squat. He touched his body efficiently, and in a moment removed his right leg. He propped this in the front right comer, and then disconnected his left leg. He put his hands on the rim of the bin, hefted himself up, and let the left leg wobble into the front left comer. Then he lowered his torso down in a maneuver a living body would have found difficult, until it wedged against his standing legs at the bottom of the bin. He squeezed his arms down and into the scant remaining space.

The sweeper slid its lid back over. It clicked into place, making an airtight seal. Bane was glad that this body did not need to breathe; it did so only for appearances, and for verbal communication.

The sweeper trundled forward, heading for the expedite route. This was a network of tunnels used for the swift trans port of supplies and equipment. The sweeper rolled onto a transport cart, was tied down, and gave its destination. Abruptly the motion was savage. No human limitations of atmosphere or acceleration were considered; machines were tougher. It was like being launched by a swinging club; one moment the cart was stationary, the next it was rolling down the tube at a horrendous velocity. There was a violent jerk as it changed tracks, proceeding at an angle down a new tube, orienting on the spaceport. Bane’s legs raided against his torso. But high velocity was what he wanted! In only ten minutes the sweeper rolled into the spaceport depot. Its lid slid open. Bane got his arms up, put his hands on the rim on either side, and somewhat clumsily hoisted his body up. This was harder to do than letting it down, and getting the first leg attached was harder yet. But he managed to use his torso to nudge his leg into the appropriate place, and to set himself on it so that it took some weight; that freed a hand so that he could complete the connection. The second leg was easy.

He climbed out. Return to assigned depot, he sent to it.

Use alternate route, unrush.

The machine closed its hatch and trundled off. It would probably not be missed, and its excursion might never be noted. Meanwhile, it had gotten him to the vicinity of the spaceport in ample time.

Now he extended his electronic awareness to locate Troubot. Yes, he was on his way in, carrying Agape in dissolved form. He repeated the identification code Nepe had given him. Troubot: provide projected route, he sent. The machine responded with the coding for his route.

If intercepted, notify me.

Troubot, a self-willed machine, understood. He would do his best to protect his cargo.

Now Bane oriented on Tania, whose identity he knew well. She was also on her way in, using her brother’s Citizen transport. She would arrive before Agape, which was as it should be.

Finally he checked for the two androids. They were close; they would arrive before Tania, and be awaiting her at the spaceport. They were orienting on her boarding pass, which was keyed to her identity.

Now it got tricky. If he intercepted the androids before they interviewed Tania, the Citizen expecting the report would realize that something was wrong. Any hint of a problem would cause them to put a hold on the takeoff, and all would be lost.

On the other hand, if they interviewed Tania, they might not finish before Agape had to make the exchange. That, too, would be disaster.

But in a moment he had a way to thread through: Agape and Tania did not actually have to meet; they merely needed to exchange places and identities in a manner that aroused no suspicion. He could get the pass from Tania and give it to Agape; Agape could board while the androids interviewed Tania. True, it might seem that Tania was in two places at once—but no one should be checking for that. It seemed a reasonable risk.

He hurried to intercept Tania as she emerged from the transport. “Give me the pass,” he said. “Androids be waiting for talk with thee.”

She caught on immediately. “Someone is checking on me, because of my sudden departure. That will be routine. But if I don’t have the pass, how will they find me? You don’t want them tracking her.”

Excellent point. “I will come with thee, and mock the pass. They will check it not further after they encounter thee.”

“You have unheralded talents,” she murmured, glancing at him sidelong. “Fortunately, I like your company.” They changed course to intercept Agape’s route, and waited a moment. Probably the androids would not search for Tania beyond the spaceport; they would have been told to find her there, and they were stupid. So they would not see Agape in Tania’s likeness.

Troubot came. Give this pass to Agape, Bane sent to it. Tell her to assume Tania’s likeness, and board as soon as the ship be ready. Once aboard, she may hide as pleases her, until we join her at Planet Moeba. He gave the pass to the machine.

Troubot trundled on without pause. Agape would know how to get from Planet ConGlom to Planet Moeba. There was no chance for more detailed planning. Then he walked with Tania on toward the spaceport, maintaining a circuit that emulated the recognition pattern of the pass, with more force than the original, so that any sensors would tune in on this one instead. “Once they be satisfied that it be thee, I will depart,” he said. “Thou canst reassure them that thy journey be routine.”

“Nuh-uh, metal man,” she said, taking his arm possessively. “I am now without my pass. If they think to check, they will know something’s up, and I’ll be in as much trouble as you. Stay with me, and see that I get out of this.”

“But-“

“The moment they realize that she is gone, and that I had a part in it, zap,” she continued, slicing her free hand across her throat. “And I think that will happen about one minute after that ship takes off. You will be on hand to get me out of it.”

“But I must return to see that Nepe—“

“If, on the other hand, all proceeds smoothly, you will be able to see to the child too. My help comes at a price, and saving my hide is part of it.”

Bane had no alternative but to go along with her. He suspected that she enjoyed asserting her position. They came to the spaceport and approached the privacy booth 401. The two androids appeared, intercepting Tania exactly as directed. Both had the nondescript look of their kind; they were completely humanoid, including genitals, but somewhat slack-faced. “Tania,” one said. “We must ask why you make this trip.”

Tania glanced at the nearest wall clock. Takeoff was in just under half an hour, and boarding would occur in fifteen minutes. She had either to satisfy these androids, or keep them occupied so that they could not check the people actually boarding.

“I do not have to answer to you,” she snapped aloofly. “My excursions are my private business.”

“Citizen Tan sent us,” the android said. “We speak for him.”

“My brother knows my pleasures,” she said. “Now look, gunkheads: I have only about ten minutes before I have to board, and I have latched on to a man for some spot entertainment until then. Just tell my brother I am my usual willful self, and let me be.”

“Entertainment?” the android asked.

“Yes. In here.” She drew Bane in toward the booth. He tried to resist, wanting no part of this ploy, but could not do so openly. Dealing with this woman was like handling quick silver!

“But you haven’t answered,” the android protested. “Why do you make this trip?”

Tania paused. Bane knew she was figuring out the best way to take advantage of this situation, knowing that he could not make any objection. “Well, I got bored with the local men,” she said. “I mean, look at this one: would you make love to him?”

The android turned to look at Mach directly. His dull eyes widened. “This is—“ Bane cut him off with a blow to the throat, utilizing reflexes that no living man, let alone an android, could match. Then he whirled on the other, catching him by the side of the neck and rendering him unconscious by a nerve block. He caught him as he tottered, and hauled him into the booth. Tania meanwhile manhandled the other android to follow. In a moment the four were crammed inside a booth intended for one to primp in comfort. One android was slumped on the toilet, and the other on the table before the wall-sized mirror. “Well, robot, I seem to have misplayed it,” she said, not entirely displeased. “Now we shall have to keep them here, and stay out of sight ourselves, until that ship takes off, so that nobody sees anything suspicious. Whatever shall we do for twenty minutes, handsome?”

“We can leave them here,” he said, bothered. “They will recover not consciousness soon enough to report in time.”

“No. My brother may call in, and they must answer, or there will be mischief. See?” She pried at the closed hand of the android who had done the talking. Sure enough, there was a communication button set into the palm. Bane gritted his teeth, figuratively. It was true; they could not gamble on the call coming in and receiving no answer, before the ship left. They had either to haul the unconscious android along with them, which would surely arouse suspi cion, or wait with him here until the danger passed. “That is what I thought,” she said, reaching up to catch hold of him around the neck. “You know. Bane, I have confined my attentions to Mach, because he is the one with no woman in Proton, but I think now those concerns are blurring. Phaze fascinates me, and if you are going to do it with my other self there anyway—”

“Thou dost push thy luck,” he muttered, not responding physically.

“We are the same, she and I. I feel her emotion—and that emotion is for you rather than Mach. I never quite figured out what was wrong, until you told me of the situation in Phaze. I see now that I was trying for Mach only nominally; it was you I really wanted. Now I am helping you to save your lover, and I believe—”

“Sork,” the android’s hand said. “What report?”

Bane used his ability to activate the return connection. “She says she just wants a change from Proton men, sir,” he said in the android’s voice. “She says it is routine.”

“What else?”

“That it is none of my business, sir.”

There was a dry laugh. “All right, let her talk to me.” Bane held up the android’s limp hand. “He wishes to talk to thee,” he said.

“All right. Tan sir,” she said, grimacing. “And what does my Citizen twin brother require of me now, sir?”

“A straight answer,” Tan’s voice snapped. “Why are you leaving the planet without notifying me?”

“I forgot. Citizen sir,” she said, not bothering to conceal the malice. She resented the fact that he had gotten the Citizenship instead of her. “Now are you going to let me board, sir?”

“I don’t think so. There’s something funny about—“ He paused, evidently making a connection. “Thee? The android wouldn’t have said that!”

Oops! Bane had given himself away!

“You must have misheard,” Tania said. “Bane’s in with the amoeba wench, plumbing her protoplasm with his metal rod.”

“One moment,” Tan snapped. Bane knew he was putting in a priority call to the suite, to see who answered. He also knew that Nepe, in his likeness, would answer and cover for him.

Sure enough, soon Tan spoke again. “He’s there, all right, looking mad about being interrupted. But I distinctly heard a ‘thee.’ Who are you with?’

Tania covered for him again. “All right, if you must know: I managed to talk a man into going with me. I—you know, Phaze, the way I—I’ve got him made up like Bane, and told him to talk like—”

“I doubt it,” Tan said coldly. “More likely you found a way to coerce Bane into coming with you so you could seduce him, and Agape is emulating him at their suite. How the hell you got her to cooperate I can’t guess. I won’t have it; we need him here. Permission to depart the planet is denied; return immediately to the office, and bring him with you. We shall get to the bottom of this.”

Tania glanced at Bane. Her brother had leaped to an apt conclusion, with one key error!

“Damn!” she said. “I hear and obey. Citizen Tan sir! But this matter is not finished.”

“Agreed,” he said, with an inflection that made her wince. They stepped out of the booth. “Methinks we need a distraction,” Bane said. “There be a few minutes yet till the ship launch. An he rethink the ploy—”

“And it is time for me to make my move,” Tania said. “This will quickly unravel. If I know my brother, he will not depend on my sense of sibling duty; he’ll send a competent force to arrest me—and you. Pull out your stops, robot; this is the time.”

“Aye, wench,” he agreed. “Follow!”

They ran to the nearest service exit to the takeoff ramp. Bane used his ability to make the door open for him as it would for a machine servitor. Beyond was a chamber in which the service machines were parked: huge forklifts, dozers and ramp cleaners. Bane went to one of the last: a machine taller than a man, with s scalable cockpit, and nozzles and brushes all around. “Climb in!” he told her, as he made the cockpit dome lift open.

“How?” she asked, halting before the monstrous caterpillar tread of the thing. It offered little purchase for a human being. Normally these machines were remote-controlled; the cockpit was there only in case a man should be assigned.

“I’ll boost thee!” He caught her by knee and upper thigh and lifted her up so that she could scramble onto the top of the tread.

“Goose me again, why don’t you,” she muttered as his hand fell away from her thigh. But she made it to the cockpit and climbed in.

Bane followed. He zeroed in on the machine’s control circuitry, and locked off the remote input. Now he alone con trolled it. He studied its mechanisms.

“Get going!” Tania cried, jammed into the tiny cockpit beside him. “They’ll be here any minute!” Bane knew that. But he wanted to be certain of the cleaner’s potential. He had chosen this machine because it most resembled an old-fashioned tank. Properly directed, it could defend itself, and could travel beyond the dome.

A group of androids burst into the chamber. “Here they are!” Tania exclaimed. “They’ve got stunners!”

He had anticipated as much. “Get comfortable,” he said grimly. “It may be a hard ride.”

“I can’t get comfortable here! There’s a gearstick poking my bottom.”

“Lucky gearshift,” he murmured, as the machine lurched out to meet the androids.

One of them fired. The shot was invisible, and was evidently deflected by the metal and plastic framework of the machine, for there was no effect. Still, this luck would not hold; he had to eliminate the menace.

He aimed a nozzle and fired. Foam squirted out to blast the androids. The force of it was formidable; it knocked them off their feet. Bubbles enclosed them, and they gesticulated wildly as they fought for good air to breathe.

“What is that stuff?” Tania asked admiringly.

“Merely light detergent. But methinks it would sting if it got in the eyes.”

Indeed, several androids were rubbing their eyes. None were trying to use their stunners. This group had been effectively defeated.

But more would come, this time better prepared. Not enough time had passed to allow for the ship taking off. “Me thinks we had better give them aught to ponder,” he said, guiding the vehicle to the service entrance.

“Robots!” she cried, pointing.

That was what he had feared. Detergent foam would not stop those!

So he charged them as they passed through the door. They were machines, but they were no match for the mass of the vehicle; they dived aside as he smashed into the door, and broke it in, along with a large segment of wall. Human and android people screamed. Tania grunted as she was bounced against the cockpit dome and back into Bane. Her knees were now jammed against his belly, and she clung to his neck for support. Her hair was in wild disarray, but she was smiling. This was her kind of mayhem!

But already the robots were righting themselves and orienting their weapons. Bane touched a lever, and water blasted out in a circular sheet, horizontally, sweeping them all off their feet again. “Rinse cycle,” he murmured to the top of Tania’s head, which was jammed against his right shoulder. “May short out some of those weapons.”

Then he maneuvered the vehicle around and away from the smashed wall, retreating. “Takeoff!” he said gladly.

“This thing flies?” she demanded, astonished.

“The ship be launched,” he explained. “Now it be safe to pass its ramp. I wanted to interfere not, before.”

“Figures,” she agreed.

Some robots were coming after them. Bane tried his third weapon, the sander. Powdery sand blasted out, and the big brushes extended, whipping it into a dust-storm frenzy, in tended to scour away the worst runway buildup of grime or old paint.

“Those robots won’t like that,” Tania remarked, grinning. But just to be sure, he aimed his foam nozzle and sent out a prolonged rearward jet of liquid detergent. He was rewarded by the sight of robots sliding helplessly back on a spreading wave of bubbles. They had finally been defeated. They passed the main launch ramp. The ships did not take off vertically; they lay at an angle, and were catapulted up before their engines cut in, so as not to befoul the interior of the dome. Incoming ships landed outside, and were then hauled in on flatcars. It was an efficient system, but did not do much to abate the exterior pollution. They passed through the dome wall, which was just a force field that served as a barrier between the clean inner air and the bad outer atmosphere. Here the view was murky; here the dust storms were natural.

“They’ll have aircraft after us,” Tania said. “We can’t dodge those long, or shoot them down with squirts of water.”

“Aye. Now we call for help.”

He set up a radio circuit on a special channel. Blue! Blue! Willst take me in?

Thought thou wouldst ne ‘er ask, the laconic reply came. Then, flying low on the horizon, came a winged craft, bright blue. It looped around them, then slowed and glided down for a landing.

“Don this,” Bane Said, drawing from the back of the cockpit a helmet and breathing tank.

Tania wedged her head into it and made sure the seal was snug about her neck. Then Bane opened the canopy and let the atmosphere in. They clambered out and ran across to the airplane.

In a moment they were inside, and the plane was taking off. It was a remote-controlled unit, made to hold two. “That’s Tania!” Citizen Blue’s voice came. “What of Agape?”

“She be offplanet now,” Bane explained. “Tania and I be defecting to thy side, and Mach likewise in Phaze.”

“What about Nepe?”

Bane had known he could not rescue Nepe the moment Tan caught on to the ploy, but had been distracted by the need to act swiftly and effectively. Now the realization struck with full force. “She be captive o’ the Citizens. She covered for me, to get her mother out.”

Tania turned to him, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. Bane,” she said with genuine regret.

“I think we shall have to negotiate,” Citizen Blue said, as the airplane flew them to the safety of his power.

“Aye,” Bane agreed, depressed.