Robot Adept

by Piers Anthony

  Mach discussed it with the Translucent Adept, who checked with his compatriots. They agreed, but wanted the selection of games done in advance, so that there would be time to prepare properly for particular types. Mach relayed that, and in due course got agreement, with further qualification: the advance choices would be for only one round at a time, with a thirty-day training period for each after the game was determined. They were concerned that Bane, having been raised apart from Proton society, would otherwise be at a serious disadvantage because of his lack of experience with the breadth of games available. With intensified specific training they could ameliorate this liability, making it a fair contest.

  To this stipulation the Adepts agreed. The contest was now established. All they had to do was decide on the first set of games.

  They set up a special console. Trool carved it from stone, and animated it by magic: it now had an operative screen just like one in a Game Annex of Proton. A similar, but science-animated, console was set up at the same spot in Proton. But Bane and Mach did not stand on opposite sides; they stood on the same side, overlapping each other, so that what one did was known to the other.

  The Game Computer operated the console in Proton, and the two selves relayed the signals so that the same information appeared on the one in Phaze.

  The grid appeared: It felt just like home!

  Mach wasn’t sure that a physical game could be played between the frames, so he touched 2. MENTAL. After a brief pause. Bane evidently made his choice, for B. TOOL developed a highlight. The box for TOOL ASSISTED MENTAL GAMES brightened and expanded to fill the screen.

  1. PHYSICAL 2. MENTAL 3. CHANCE 4. ARTS

  A. NAKED B. TOOL C. MACHINE D. ANIMAL

  5. SEPAR 6.INTERAC 7. PUZZLE 8. COOPER

  E. BOARD F. CARDS G. PAPER H. GENERAL

  PLAYERS: MACH—NUMBERS BANE—LETTERS

  Mach had the letters this time, so he touched E. BOARD. Bane chose 6. INTERACTIVE. The 6E square expanded.

  Now it was time to assemble their own grid. There was the usual list of choices down the side. Mach had the first choice, so he touched CHESS, OCCIDENTAL and put it in the center of the nine-square array. He had played many variants of chess, and liked them all; he had many standard strategies filed in his memory. Bane probably had not put the same type of time into it, though he certainly could be familiar with the game. But Bane’s chances of mastering a sophisticated chess variant in only one month were minimal.

  Bane put GO BANG in a corner. That was a relatively simple game in which each player tried to be the first to set five stones in a row.

  Mach put SHOGI next to Bane’s choice. That gave him two choices in a row. Shogi was Japanese chess, like Occidental but with extra pieces such as “silver” and “spear” and extra motions and strategies. For example, castles and bishops could be “crowned,” or promoted, taking on additional abilities, and captured pieces could be made to fight for their captor.

  Bane put CHINESE CHECKERS in that row, preventing Mach from having three of his own choices there. Had he gotten that, and then had his choice of rows rather than columns, he could have been set!

  Mach put POLE CHESS in the center of the bottom row. This was a minor but intriguing variant developed in the last centuries, first as a joke, then seriously.

  Bane put FOX AND GEESE, one of the hunt games, in the center of the top row.

  They continued, Mach with variants of chess, Bane with simpler games. At the end they chose their line and column, and Mach got one of his choices: POLE CHESS. He had a definite advantage; he had played the grid to win, and now was in a fair position to do so.

  But Fleta had a question. “Thou willst play here, in Bane’s body?”

  “Yes. But my basic knowledge of the game carries over.”

  “And Bane will play in Proton-frame, in thy body?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And has he not access to all thy memories and skills?” Mach froze. She had just identified a critical flaw in his thinking! Of course Bane had all the robot memories and skills; they were inherent in the nature of the machine and its programming. He, Mach, had even made a recording of his experiences on Planet Moeba for Bane to enjoy. Bane could do anything as well as Mach could!

  All his savage strategy had been wasted. Citizen Blue and the Oracle would see that Bane started at Mach’s level, and proceeded from there to a higher level. In fact, the infallible machine brain could probably play chess better than the fallible human brain, for it would not make the kind of error Mach was not prone to. Such as this one, of forgetting the elementary liability of his strategy!

  “I’m in trouble!” he muttered. “I outsmarted myself.”

  “Magic will enhance thy capacity,” Translucent said. “That is why we have made thee an Adept. Thou willst play better than ever thou didst as a machine.”

  “So will Bane,” Mach responded glumly.

  “I meant not to cause thee distress,” Fleta said contritely.

  At that he had to smile. “Good thing you brought me to my senses, filly!”

  Chapter 12

  Oracle

  Bane was in a chamber in Vamdom, and Agape was not with him. That drained much of the delight he had had in this frame. But with this new compromise, he should be able to bring her back.

  He went to a communication screen. “Citizen Blue,” he said.

  Almost immediately, the man who so resembled his father came on the screen. “Ah, Bane,” Blue said.

  Bane hadn’t even spoken directly to him yet, and the man recognized him! How was it possible, when he was in a robot body? “Aye, Citizen. I bear news o’ a new deal. Mach and I needs must play a tourney of our own, three rounds, and both serve the side that does prevail. The Adverse Adepts be training him, with the Book o’ Magic, and I may train with the Oracle. Dost agree?”

  Blue did not even hesitate. “I agree. Let me contact the other side. Meanwhile, go to the Oracle.”

  “Aye. But if Agape may now return—”

  “If the Contrary Citizens allow it.”

  “Methinks they will.”

  “We shall know in a moment.”

  Blue’s face faded from the screen. Immediately a new one formed. This was a young android woman, evidently a secretary. “You have business with the Oracle?” she inquired.

  Already! “I be Bane, of Phaze. Needs must I oppose mine other self in a tourney, and if the Oracle will train me for that encounter—”

  “If you will report to the nearest Game Annex, the Oracle will be in touch.”

  “Game Annex? But—”

  “The Game Computer permits this use of its facilities,” she explained. “The location of the Oracle is private.”

  So that the Contrary Citizens would not interfere with it, he realized. The Oracle was the mainstay of Blue’s power in this frame.

  He made his way to the Vamdom Game Annex. Soon he was sealed in a chamber with a holo unit.

  Color developed in the air, swirling diaphanously. “The Contrary Citizens have agreed,” a melodious voice said. “Agape will be recalled from Planet Moeba, on the technicality that she was never in the Tourney, but served only as the host for the unicorn who was, so cannot be deported for the unicorn’s loss. She will join you here in due course. In the interim, I need to learn from you what has occurred in Phaze during the past fifteen years.”

  “I will try to tell thee—”

  “Your present body is a machine. Plug in your brain, and I will take a full readout.”

  “Readout?” Bane was baffled.

  “There is an access panel behind your left ear. Connect this.” A multipronged plug appeared, extending from the wall.

  Bane found the panel and slid it open. He plugged in the plug. His awareness changed.

  First he felt a kind of draining, as if his mind were pouring out through the connection. Then he felt a return flow, as if other material were entering. He knew he was not losing his own identity; the information was merely bein
g called up and copied. But the process was interactive, and the act of reading his mind generated a lesser return flow, so that he perceived, as in a dream, the memories of the Oracle. At first he resisted; then he realized that this was a remarkable opportunity, and sank into the dream.

  There were levels and levels of it, a memory within the dream. Bane, confused, sought the beginning—and found himself in a vision of ancient Earth, when magic was there. In the ambience of magic, things occurred that were not possible with science, such as instant shape- and mass-changing, and the crossbreeding of divergent species. Indeed, crossbreeds nourished, and many such species had stabilized. Their magic was internal; they limited their effects to set form changes and particular talents, such as carving rock. They retained their potency throughout their lives.

  But every act of external magic—that which was not natural to the species—depleted the store of magic on the planet, and so its power inevitably diminished. The vacuum was slowly taken up by a new system, later codified as science. At first science was weak and unreliable, but it gained strength in direct proportion to the diminution of magic. In sum: magic waned, science waxed. Those who practiced the new discipline came to doubt that the old one had ever had validity, because they assumed that the fundamental forces of the universe were unchanging. That was their folly—but on Earth it could not be disabused. The old texts of magic were systematically destroyed, for their spells no longer operated.

  But in the larger universe, magic remained, and though it was losing its effect throughout, certain nuclei retained their potency. These came to shine like beacons in the thinning ambience, and drew the devotees of the old disciplines who were by their specialized arts able to detect them from afar. One of the strongest was the planet Phaze, where enormous magical energy had imbued its specialized nether rock.

  Earth was becoming inhospitable. An oracle, or prophecy, told of a distant locale where magic would be safe. So certain creatures fashioned a great wicker boat they called the Craft of the Oracle, or Coracle. Those who were ready to risk their lives for the sake of such a dream boarded it and set sail, leaving the more conservative majority of creatures behind. The Coracle passed through the fluxes of the universe and came at last to its destination, bringing to this planet the first unicorns, werewolves, harpies, vampires, dragons, elves, goblins, ogres, demons, trolls and others, leaving behind the centaurs, rocs, merfolk, sphinxes and others. The creatures spread out to fill the ecological niches of Phaze, and flourished; in due course there were many herds of unicorns, packs of werewolves, flocks of vampires, hordes of goblins and conclaves of elves. They achieved a certain equilibrium, each dominating its chosen habitat, generally hostile to each other when there was competition for particular territory.

  Then, hundreds or perhaps thousands of years later, man came to Phaze. Magic had been all but exterminated on Earth, and the crossbreeds remaining there were extinct. Some had been vicious creatures whose disappearance was little loss, but some had cultivated the best traits of their ancestor species, and their demise was a tragedy. The centaurs had been too arrogant to settle for any region less than Earth itself; now not only Earth but the universe existed without their civilization. Instead it suffered the ravages of man.

  Man came technologically, and brought the infectious seed of science with him. He set about colonizing the planet, calling it Proton, burning its forests and slaughtering its creatures. The animals had never been exposed to the horrors of science, and though they tried to fight back, they were being decimated. The goblins mounted a savage counterattack, wiping out several colony settlements, but the humans reciprocated by bombing the goblins’ camps and warrens and nearly wiping out several tribes. It was evident that all too soon the creatures here would go the way of their cousins on Earth.

  But not all the invaders were vicious or uncaring. Some few appreciated the nature of Phaze and sought to preserve its unique environment. These managed to deal with the elves to create a barrier between the frames of science and magic, separating them. This had an immediate effect, because the weapons based on science no longer worked in the magic frame, and magic no longer worked in the science frame. It effectively isolated the two factions, though they actually shared the territory. They were out of phase with each other. This was the origin of the name of the magic realm: Phaze.

  Then a peculiar effect manifested. The two frames assumed an equivalence in more than geography. Human beings who were born and raised on the planet began appearing on either side of the curtain, mirror images of each other. In some interaction between science and magic they had cloned, the parties on either side living similar lives, but utilizing different modes. It was possible for newcomers to the planet to cross the curtain, though not always easy. Clones could not; the presence of their other selves barred them. Thus the frames were increasingly separated. But this meant that only those who knew least about the opposite frames could cross to them, and this meant trouble.

  Some long-time residents developed formidable powers of magic, and became known as Adepts. The potential for magic was in every creature, but the Adepts acted ruthlessly to restrict its application. Those whose powers were less soon learned to avoid the use of magic almost entirely, so as not to seem in any way competitive with the Adepts. They settled into innocuous village life, while the Adepts became like distant lords. The Adepts took it upon themselves to protect Phaze from unwarranted intrusions across the curtain, using magic to detect and eliminate most of those who crossed.

  But the Citizens of the developing hierarchy of Proton were in no mood to brook such interference with their rights of exploitation. They used their computers to prepare an exhaustive analysis of the mechanisms of magic, and developed a computer that could invoke this magic without error or waste. Because a computer could not operate in Phaze, they digested these principles into a comprehensive Book of Magic that any person could use with devastating effect. The conquest of Phaze by Proton was about to resume. This of course was incipient disaster, and the more sensible elements of both cultures opposed it implacably.

  A compromise was achieved: the Book of Magic was confined to Proton and hidden, so it could not be used, and the computer was put across the curtain into Phaze, where it was given limited animation as the Oracle: an entity that would answer any question once. References to Phaze in the literature of Proton were extirpated, and in a generation it was as if the other frame did not exist. But the Citizens knew of it, and some of their secretaries learned. Surreptitious crossings still occurred, but there was a conspiracy of silence about the matter. The Citizens who had other selves in Phaze could not cross, and did not want others to do so.

  So it was for three hundred years—until the extensive mining of Protonite in the science frame generated an imbalance that threatened to tear the fabric that separated them and destroy both. The Oracle understood this, but could not act directly to alleviate it. Its only power was answering questions directed to it, and not many of those. Therefore it used that power to cause the Blue Adept to be murdered—

  Bane snapped out of the vision. “What?”

  “You have assimilated the history of the frames,” the Oracle said.

  “Thou didst cause Blue to die?” Bane demanded.

  “Only one person seemed likely to be able to do the necessary job,” the Oracle replied. “That was Stile, in the frame of Proton, the Blue Adept’s other self. He knew nothing of Phaze, and could not cross. Therefore I devised a plan to free him for crossing, and to acquaint him in due course with this mission. This is a story whose general gist you may already know.”

  Bane did indeed! The Red Adept had murdered the Blue Adept, whose soul had taken refuge in his harmonica: then Stile, Blue’s other self, had crossed the curtain and taken Red out, replacing her with Trool the Troll. Stile had married Blue’s widow, the Lady Blue, and begotten Bane. Blue, meanwhile, had crossed to Proton, animating Stile’s body. Stile was actually using a golem body crafted by Trool, animated by magi
c; he was a golem with the soul of a man. Or, in Proton terms, very like a cyborg. Bane had actually been conceived before that shift of bodies; there could be none conceived thereafter. All this Bane understood—but it seemed that there were aspects he had not been told.

  “The permanent separation of frames was intended to prevent any further imbalances from developing,” the Oracle continued, its light still swirling. “But it seems that there is after all imbalance.”

  “Because Mach and I exchanged frames,” Bane said.

  “That should not have been possible.”

  “For an entity that is supposed to know everything, thou dost seem to be short some information.”

  “True. I lacked news of the developments in Phaze. I must ascertain what changed,” the Oracle said. “I have the transcript of your life experiences, but this is not enough. I must know how you exchanged.”

  Suddenly Bane was back in the dream, but this time he was himself. He was in the retreat he had fashioned, really only a rock in a glade, communicating with his other self. He had not at first realized that this was what he was doing; he had been drawn into this glade for no reason he could ascertain, and now felt the odd presence. “Who be ye?” he asked, and felt it echo in alien language, Who are you?

  I am Mach! the answer came, definitely not his own thought. Then: Let’s exchange places.

  The notion intrigued him “Aye—for a moment.” He improvised a quick spell, and sang it, to facilitate the process, whatever it might lead to.

  Then, with an abrupt wrenching, he had found himself in the frame of Proton, and his remarkable adventure had begun.