Phaze Doubt Part 28

They came to the first nether chamber. There stood the other robot, and it was not a maintenance machine, but a humanoid specimen, of masculine gender. This was another surprise, because there had been no such machine in evidence in the three years they had lived here, and they thought they had come to know every member of the community. Obviously they had missed a lot.

"Who are you?" Nepe asked.

"I have a name," the robot said. "But that is an approximation for convenience, and need not be employed."

Which was a typical robot answer. "Are you self-willed?"

"I am."

"Why didn't I see you before?"

"That answer will be known in due course."

Another robotoid response! Nepe walked on with it, toward the chamber where Eli normally stayed.

"I must separate from you now," the robot said. "But a man will await you."

The robot departed down a side tunnel. Nepe walked on, taking the opportunity to shift to her straight human form-and soon encountered a boy.

She stopped and stared. This was a full, complete, man-headed human being! Which was absolutely unlikely, here.

"Who are you?" she asked gamely.

"I am called Beman, but that tells only part of my story," the young man said.

Nepe studied him frankly. He was a handsome youth, about her own age, with curly reddish hair and eyes that seemed almost to echo that color. She would have liked him better if less perplexed about his appearance here, though.

"How did you come here?" she asked.

"I was made here," he replied.

"Oh-you're an android!"

"Not exactly." Like the others, he seemed amused.

"How many of you are there in this game?" she demanded suspiciously.

"As many as there are in yours."

She walked with him, not satisfied with this answer. Something odd was going on, and evidently Eli and the animal heads were in on it. But what was the point, when they knew she had a mission to save the planet?

"I must leave you now," Beman said. "But there will be one to make everything clear."

"Thanks just oodles," she said sarcastically.

Beman walked away, taking a side pa.s.sage. Nepe pondered, then returned the body to Flach, who could change forms more readily than she could.

Flach, in his normal boy form, walked on to Eli's cave. He would have the answer soon, or else!

But as he entered the elephant head's cave, he came to a shocked stop. Within it stood not Eli, but a BEM-a complete Hectare!

How could the enemy be here, deep in the time-protected caves under the North Pole? Had the BEM they had gamed with betrayed them after all? No, that couldn't be; Flach had come to know one and a half BEMs, in the guard and Lysander, and he believed in their sense of honor. Besides, this was something he had never seen before: a small BEM, only about two-thirds the apparent ma.s.s of the grown ones. A grown one would not have fit in the entrance hole.

How had a young BEM come here, when only adults had invested the planet? How could the animal heads have tolerated it? And how could it have happened recently, since Flach and his companions had been watching the entrance for a sign?

Then it came clear. "The Hec seed!" he exclaimed.

The monster slid a tentacle across a screenlike surface. Where it touched, a line appeared. It wrote an answer in script: YOU BROUGHT ME, FLACH.

"But why do we need a BEM?"

I DO NOT KNOW.

"They raised thee here from seed, somehow, though Hectare cannot grow away from their native planet?" But obviously it was so. "Thou dost be what I were supposed to-thou dost be the West Pole's product?"

SO IT SEEMS.

"But the vamp girl, Weva, said I had to be inside for a day- which be four months here. That be not what-"

Flach broke off. Something so truly amazing was breaking across his mind that his mouth fell open.

Nepe filled it in for him, as flabbergasted as he. The werewolf, the vampire-WErewolf, VAmpire-WEVA. They are the same! And Beman must be BEM and ANdroid. They are all the same!

"Just as we are," Flach agreed, awed. "Male, female, robot, animal-where we're unicorn, they're-"

I THINK NOW YOU KNOW ME, the Hectare wrote.

"Change with me," Flach said. He became a wolf.

The Hectare became a wolf.

"But you're a b.i.t.c.h!" Flach growled.

"Aye," she growled, and a.s.sumed the girl form.

Flach became a bat. The other became a female bat. "An thou desirest a male, needs must I turn straight human," she said in bat talk.

Flach became Nepe. The other became Beman.

"And one of your forms is a BEM!" Nepe breathed. "Who could have believed it!"

"It was done in the laboratory," Beman said. "As I understand you were, before you merged with Flach. Can we be friends?"

"We'd better be!" Nepe exclaimed. "We don't want to be enemies!"

"Especially since you must teach me magic," Beman said.

Nepe turned over to Flach. "Magic!" he exclaimed.

Weva appeared. "Please?"

"That's what the four months is for?"

"Aye, Flach. Eli says it needs must be, but only thou be Adept. He says I can learn, but there be none but thee to teach me."

That was surely true! Anyone could learn magic, but most folk had only slight talent for it, while those who became Adept had great talent. It wasn't safe for ordinary folk to try too much, because the Adepts quickly cut down anything that seemed like potential compet.i.tion in their specialties. But a person with apt.i.tude, tutored by an Adept, could learn relatively rapidly. Flach himself had been close to Adept level by age four, but that had been his secret, and Grandpa Stile's. If she had the ability to learn, he could teach her a lot in four months.

"But thou dost be part BEM!" he protested.

"Aye, Flach. But three parts human, as be thou."

Through her werewolf, vampire, and android components, he realized; each of those was one part human, one part other. His own human heritage stemmed from his unicorn dam and his two human grandparents. Because he had more human shares than any other, he regarded himself as human, despite his t.i.tle of Unicorn Adept, but he could a.s.sume any of the aspects of his lineage. The same would be true for Weva. "Aye," he agreed.

"I thank thee for thine understanding," she said, and kissed him.

It was a supposedly innocuous gesture, but it electrified him. The revelation of her nature was still amazing him, on a lower level of his consciousness: she was an aspect of a creature like himself, with his own potential. But superficially she was a pretty girl, much like Sirel. It had been a year since Sirel had come to her maturity, and brought him to his, in their wolf forms, but the knowledge of the change in their status still thrilled and appalled him. He was ready to relate to a girl-to a woman on the adult level, but there had been none to relate to. Now, suddenly, there was, and she was much more than he had dreamed possible. Perhaps her kiss was innocent for her, but it was not for him.

"Aye," he repeated.

He taught her magic. She was quick to learn. They found that what Weva could do, Beman could not, though he was her male aspect. Weva derived from cells taken from Sirel-which accounted for her similarity to Sirel, making her a person he could like, without having to give her up the moment it got serious- and Alien. These were creatures of Phaze, the magic realm, and magic was in them. But Beman derived from human, robot, and Hectare elements, which were scientific, and they related well to the things of science and not to the things of magic. The animal heads had evidently taken care to educate Beman in Proton speech, to clarify the distinction.

Nepe was curious about the way Beman could a.s.sume a full robot form instantly; her robot forms were all emulations, without her flesh actually becoming metal, but his seemed to be genuine metal. But he could a.s.sume only the humanoid robot form, while she could adopt any form she chose. The two compared notes, and discussed things of science, while Flach and Weva tuned out, bored. It seemed that Flach and Weva were the naturally s.e.xed forms, while Nepe and Beman were emulations from neuter stock. The rule of no true male-female composite was being maintained.

But mostly it was Flach because of the need to cover the magic. Weva learned to conjure, and to fashion animate clouds, and to a.s.sume forms that were not in her ancestry. Thus she could become a machine that was not a humanoid robot, though her other self could not. She had to use a different spell each time, but she built up a collection of spells for such purpose, just as Flach had done in the past. Her new forms were not as realistic or functional as his, but in time they would become so. She was, after all, only twelve years old, and new to this.

Betweentimes, they talked, their dialogues becoming more intimate as their knowledge of each other progressed. "I be glad indeed that thou hast come on the scene," Flach said. "But what I fathom not is why thou didst have to have a BEM component. The BEMs be our enemies."

"I be part BEM," she agreed. "But I be not thy enemy, Flach, and ne'er can be. I serve this planet and this culture, and if it be not freed, then will I perish with it and thee."

"That I know. Yet what can a BEM do that we o'erwise could not? I think this be not part o' the prophecy."

"Nay, it be part o' thy sire's plan, and thy grandsire's plan," she said. "And that we shall fathom not till thou dost convey me to the South Pole."

"Aye. Would I could show thee Proton on the way there, but I dare not. Needs must we go direct, when we go."

They also played the flutes. She had been trained in music, as had the three of them, and had her own iridium flute. She was good with it, too-better, in fact, than he. "Well, I had more time, she said. "From age three on, did I train with it, though not by choice. But I think it be more than that."

"More than training?" he asked. This business of the flutes still perplexed him. Why should they all have to play them, when not one of them could touch the expertise of the Adept Clef? "Be thine the magic flute?"

"Nay, I can play thine as well as mine." She exchanged flutes with him, and they verified that they were the same.

"Then what?" he asked, covertly annoyed at being out-skilled.

"It be my BEM component," she explained. "The BEMs be apt in coordination, because o' their many tentacles and eyes. Beman's BEM aspect can play best o' all."

"That would I like to hear," Flach said, intrigued.

The BEM appeared. The sight no longer startled Flach; he had become familiar with it, and his interaction with the guard outside had prepared him. Beman was no monster to him, in any form.

The BEM lifted the flute and fastened an air hose to it, so that the stream of air pa.s.sed across the mouthpiece and caused a sustained note. Then it applied tentacles to the holes and keys, and played.

The sound was phenomenal. Flach had heard his Grandfather Stile play, and knew that on all the planet only one was better. That was the Adept Clef, whose sound was magical, figuratively and literally. In unicorn form, with his recorder horn, Flach could play very well, because it was natural to that form. The recorder was a form of the flute, with a mellower sound, and this gave him an advantage when, in human form, he played the flute. He played it very well. Thus it had been a surprise when Weva had turned out to be better, since she had no unicorn component. But now he understood that her BEM component was indeed the source of that talent. The BEM might be doing a mathematical translation, and not have any particular feeling for the spirit of the music, but its technical expertise was superlative. Weva, with animal and human components, supplied the feeling the BEM might lack, and so even her relatively clumsy human fingers had marvelous skill.

Flach took his own flute and joined in, after a few bars, playing extemporaneous counterpoint. The music was beautiful, but he had to stop soon, because the magic was gathering. The BEM had no magical power, and its music was merely sound, but Flach could summon magic when he played, and it was dangerous to do that without turning it to some particular task.

Weva reappeared in mid note- "Teach me that!" she exclaimed.

He had a.s.sumed she realized how he used music. He realized that there was more to cover. They got to work on it.

In all too brief a span, their "day" was done, and it was time to go back out into the ordinary realm and make the journey to the South Pole. There, they hoped, the mystery of their mission would be clarified at last.

13 - South

Lysander remained uncertain whether he was doing the right thing. So far he seemed to be forwarding the cause of the enemy more than that of the Hectare. Yet what else was he to do? The members of the planetary resistance knew his mission, and allowed him along only so long as he was useful to them. If he balked, they would drop him. If he turned them in, the secret plan they were implementing would never be discovered, for they themselves did not know it.

So he went along, knowing that the cunning child Nepe/Flach was using him. But he had one saving hope: that the prophecy they believed in was valid, and that only he could in the end give the natives their victory. That meant that their effort would fail without his partic.i.p.ation and cooperation, which they could not in the end buy. Their magic had been effective in causing him to love Echo, but that love would not make him abandon his mission. So he retained the trump card, and eventually they would have to give him the chance to play it.

Unless this whole business of the prophecy was a lie, to make him cooperate. Yet that seemed unlikely, because their entire framework was marvelously consistent; everything they had told him had turned out to be true. Even the matter of the spell of invisibility: why make your enemy invisible, giving him enhanced power to snoop on you, unless you really need him? Why make one of your own partisans love him, unless you expect him to join your side?

Actually, the invisibility was wearing off now. He could see himself, translucent. So he now wore clothes, and smeared dirt on his extremities, making himself completely visible; it was better than the halfway state. It remained impressive enough, as magic: a single quick spell lasting for two weeks before beginning to weaken. He had no doubt that Flach could have changed him into a toad with similar longevity.

He stroked Echo as she lay beside him, sleeping. Her body was a machine powered by a pellet of Protonite, but her brain was living human, and it did need sleep. When it slept, the rest of her system shut down, and she was responsive only to significant physical shocks. His touch meant nothing to her now. In addition, his love for her was artificial, brought about by magic. But it was authentic. The magic had somehow reached into whatever senses his android body had, and his Hectare brain, and made those connections that natural love would have, and done them more securely than nature would have. A person who was killed by artificial means was just as dead as one who died of natural causes; similarly, his love was just as thorough.

It was interesting, though, that the love spell was not wearing off the way the invisibility spell was. Perhaps they were different kinds of spells. But it was possible that the spell was wearing off-only to be replaced at the same rate by natural love. He might be able to work his way out of love if he tried, by magnifying any doubts that seeped in. But he didn't care to try; there was no reason, when he enjoyed the emotion so much.

Would he have to give her up, when the time to implement his mission came? He was very much afraid he would. He felt grief for the action he knew he would take, betraying her along with the rest. But his discipline as a Hectare required it, and in this respect their effort of making him love a native woman had been wasted. It would not make a traitor of him. He did love her, but he loved honor more, for that was inherent in his Hectare nature. Never in all the history of the Hectare species had one of them betrayed its agreement on even the slightest matter. The protocols of honor were refined to a degree virtually incomprehensible to other species. Thus the Hectare guard, having made a deal with the enemy, honored it in letter and spirit, absolutely. True, it was betraying its species in the process-but had it won the wager, it would have helped its side similarly significantly. The protocols allowed for this; as long as the wager was fair, and the stakes equivalent, it was legitimate.

Lysander's mind reflected on the name, Hectare. This was actually a translation of a concept obscure to aliens. There was a human geographic measure termed the "meter," which was about one man's pace. In two dimensions, this became a square meter. One hundred square meters were an "are," and a hundred ares const.i.tuted a "hektare" or "hect-are," or ten thousand square meters. One BEM eye facet could track approximately one square meter at a distance, and the full eye complex could track, individually, approximately ten thousand such units. The ma.s.sive brain could integrate that information and coordinate response, limited only by physical factors. Since there were not ten thousand tentacles capable of firing ten thousand laser beams simultaneously, this was a limit; with computer a.s.sistance, such coordination was feasible, and a BEM in a s.p.a.ceship could indeed fire at ten thousand enemies and score on each. So the name seemed appropriate as an indication of the capacity of the species. The natives of this planet had seen only a fraction of the BEM potential. That was why the guard had no concern about the visitors to the West Pole; it was aware that they might lack the protocols of honor, but it could laser all of them well before any one of them could pull the trigger on a hand weapon. Lysander had spoken truly, as he had to, when he advised them that gaming was the only way past this guard.

There was a stir, and the bat and wolf appeared. They preferred to forage at night, and perhaps more; it was obvious that the two were quite taken with each other in their human forms. They were each twelve now, having aged three years under the Pole, and had evidently come to know each other well there. Flach, once interested in Sirel, seemed to be so no longer, though she was blossoming into an attractive young woman. They no longer spoke of their Promise.