He let her go too. As far as he could tell, all of them were complete, and were in every way alive. Yet they could not be. He was baffled.
Desperate, he tried one more thing, when she gave him his chance at the fifth one. He moved to kiss her, but instead of meeting her lips squarely he caught her lower lip between his lips, sucked it into his mouth, and bit it. If he tasted blood—
“Mmmph!” she protested, jerking back. “You win, you guano!” Then she became a large bat, and flew away.
Astonished, he stared after her. “A—a—” he stammered.
“A vamp-girl,” Alyc said. “How clever of you to figure that out! She had me fooled; I thought she was a werebitch.”
“But I—” It was still too much to grasp.
“A vamp can’t handle blood, even her own,” Alyc continued. “I mean, they eat it only for very special ceremonies, and it sends them into frenzy. She had to get out of here before she went wild.”
“But they all seemed alive!” he said. “I was just guessing; I didn’t know that was the one. I couldn’t tell them apart at all!”
Alyc smiled. “Then you lucked out. She pulled a double whammy on you. They were all her.”
“But they were all different!”
“No, I saw what was happening, because I was outside the game. She used magic all right, but just on you. To make you think you were taking five different figures, when it was really the same one each time. That’s pretty easy magic, for Phaze folk, if they work at it. Each time, you kissed her, and then one of the dummies walked off, and you thought it was the same. I was so mad! But I couldn’t say anything. I just had to hope you would see through the trick, and make her pay—and you sure did, Lysander, you sure did! That was a stroke of genius!”
“It was luck more than genius,” he confessed. “I was trying to test for the real one, but every one of them seemed so authentic. You mean I kissed the real one five times?”
“Yes. I was getting good and jealous, but you know I was laughing too. When you goosed the goose—!”
So she had seen enough to figure it out. But she was laughing, and he laughed with her. “And she had to stand there and take it, so as not to give herself away. I thought it was a dummy I was goosing!”
“Maybe it was,” she said cheerfully. “Then when you bite her—oh, Lysander, I was worried, but you sure came through! Let’s go back to my room and you can do it all to me, except the biting.”
“Good enough!” he agreed. He was getting good at schooling himself not to react sexually in public, but now that he realized what he had been doing to a real woman, the notion was getting ahead of him. “Hurry!”
They ran down the halls. Soon they got to her chamber, where they proceeded to passionate sex without bothering with the preliminaries.
After that, things were quieter. He played other games with Alyc, and enjoyed her frequent sexual favors. There was much to be said for enthusiasm!
He saw Jod’e again, and she did not seem to hold his bite against him.
“You beat me,” she said. “I thought I had you beaten, but you turned the ploy. I have to respect that.” She did not make any further move on him, but he encountered her often enough, because her off-shift was the same as his. He would have been quite intrigued by her, had it not been for his prior association with Alyc, and Jod’e’s too-bold opening move with the game.
He got into the work that Citizen Blue had for him. Blue was trying to fathom exactly what had gone wrong with the Game Computer; he suspected that the arrival of magic in Proton had infected the computer and given it full self-awareness. Even the self-willed machines were not usually independent; they had awareness and desire, but were satisfied to honor the existing order. The Citizen’s son Mach had been special—and now it seemed the Game Computer was, too.
But the Game Computer was complex and canny. It seemed to have borrowed something from the Oracle, which was a self willed machine whose ultimate motives were at best uncertain. Lysander needed to learn more about both of these, because both were integral to the functioning of the planetary society, and could generate significant problems for the occupying force—after the conquest. He asked to see the source code for the game-grid program, but it seemed that this was sealed off, to prevent any possible cheating. He had to figure it out from the field, as it were.
He played game after game, exhausting Alyc’s patience. “You’re a gameoholic!” she complained.
“You have me dead to rights,” he confessed. “But at least I am working for Citizen Blue while I indulge my fell appetite. I am searching for some pattern that will offer an insight into the change in the Game Computer. It isn’t in the circuitry; it has to be in some interaction between the program and the magic of Phaze. Something that makes the machine not only conscious, but independent. I think it must be a tricky kind of feedback—”
“Yes, yes, I know; your specialty. Let’s make love.”
“That is an attractive counteroffer,” he said. He had learned the code terms: “making love” meant copulation.
They retired to her chamber. He had by this time lasted longer with Alyc than any of her prior boyfriends, and he knew why: he wanted no disruption in his relation with Citizen Blue’s household. That was the center of the governance of the planet, and the likely center of any resistance to the conquest. As long as he remained with Alyc, that association was secure. But it was also true that once he had attuned himself to the sexual activity of the human body, it was a pleasant enough diversion. Serfs were treated to eliminate any chance of disease or conception, so sex was free. Those who wished to marry and have offspring had to petition their employers, who might or might not grant them the treatment that enabled conception. Neither Lysander nor Alyc (or, as the Phaze forms would put it, nor Lysander neither Alyc) wanted that, so were content with the normal indulgence. Actually he, as an android, was infertile anyway. So if she wanted it twice a day, he was satisfied to oblige. He gave all other women short shrift, which further pleased Alyc.
Thus his life settled in, for a month—until the investment.
Chapter 6
Hectare
It happened with stunning swiftness. Lysander and Alyc were in the Game Annex, between games, about to punch a beverage from the food dispenser. Jod’e approached. “May I join you?” she inquired, politely enough.
Alyc, having long since ascertained that Lysander had no sexual interest in Jod’e, was amenable to her company. It served to show every serf on the premises that she, Alyc, had nothing to fear from even the most beautiful competition. Jod’e had more of a taste for games than Alyc did, so often played them with Lysander, whose interest was insatiable. So the three of them were about to drink—when the announcement blared from all the speakers.
“This is Citizen Blue. An alien fleet has surrounded the planet without warning. It has the capacity to destroy all life and industry here. We have no choice but to yield to superior force. Hold your places for superior force. Hold your places for the announcement by the Coordinator of the Hectare.”
Jod’e stared at them, astonished. “Can this be a joke?”
“No joke,” Alyc said. Her face was assuming a more serious mien, unsurprising in the circumstance.
After a moment a harsh, computer simulated voice spoke.
“The Planet Proton is within the sector controlled by Alliance forces. Investment by the Hectare is proceeding. The following personnel will report to the central concourse for internment: all Citizens, Adepts, and government functionaries. If in doubt, report. Any eligible personnel who fail to report will be declared surplus. All interested in serving the new regime in a supervisory capacity report to the Game Annex. All others will proceed about normal business until directed otherwise. There will be minimal disruption.”
“Report for internment?” Jod’e said. There was a murmur all around; the other serfs were as amazed and confused.
“Exactly,” Alyc said. Now her bearing had changed completely; she
was no longer the enthusiastic, slightly low intellect serf. “I am an agent of the Hectare, sent to perform advance reconnaissance. I will identify all the members of the leading Citizen’s household and family and see that they are apprehended. I advise you, Jod’e, to volunteer for service in the new regime; the Hectare will find compatible use for all who do volunteer.”
Jod’e shook her head. “I am amazed! I never figured you for a traitor, Alyc! I’m not about to become one myself. I’ll take my chances with the old order.”
Alyc shrugged. “As you wish.” She turned to Lysander. “But you, I am sure, are more sensible. You have expertise that the Hectare can use as readily as the Citizens could; the Hectare are game fanatics, and will want to correct the Game Computer malfunction promptly. I can guarantee you an excellent position—and it hardly needs clarifying that you will remain my paramour.”
Lysander was astonished. He had never imagined that Alyc could be a Hectare agent! But she was not the type of agent he was. His duty required a response she would neither understand nor appreciate.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s been fun with you, Alyc. But though I have been here only a month, I have come to respect this culture for what it is, and I shall not betray it to any alien usurper.” That was an outright lie, required by his mission. But what followed was the truth. “Had I known you were an enemy agent, I would have turned you in at the outset. You fooled me, and I am disgusted.”
“The Hectare do not employ incompetent agents,” she said. “The longer you take to change your mind, the less advantageous it will be for you.”
“I’ll take that chance,” he said, rising from the table.
Jod’e rose with him. “I think we had better vacate the premises quickly,” she said.
“It will make no difference,” Alyc said. “If the Hectare want either of you, they will find you and take you. But it will be better for those who volunteer.”
Why was she so sure? She was correct that the first and most sincere volunteers would be treated best; she, as one of the very earliest, would have her pick of lovers, so she didn’t need him. But she acted as if he himself would be rounded up immediately, when that was obviously impractical. Lysander didn’t have time to ponder; he wanted to get well away from her and this region. Already the serfs were milling, as the majority sought to get out before they were mistaken for volunteers.
He did not look at Alyc again. He had been true to her, but in a devious fashion he felt she had not been true to him. This was a foolish sentimentality, for she had offered him a good position in the new order. He had evidently assimilated more of the local culture than he realized.
Lysander and Jod’e joined the throng crowding toward the nearest exit. “I don’t like this,” he muttered. “Suddenly there’s an alien takeover, and we’re supposed to cooperate?” He was saying what he knew was on the minds of most serfs, testing her for reaction. It had occurred to him that Jod’e had been conveniently close—indeed, had been close to him throughout. Had she known this was coming? If so, what was her purpose?
“She worked for Citizen Blue,” Jod’e said. “It won’t be safe for you to go there. I can help you get outside.”
The jostling crowd gave them better privacy than could be had elsewhere. “Why? Why should you bother with me?”
“I’ve been trying to make a play for you throughout!” she said. “Now’s my chance.”
“I don’t buy that. You’re beautiful. You don’t need me. You know I’m no changeling. I can’t convert to bat form and fly away with you. If I go outside, I’ll just be a liability to you. Make your own break; I doubt they’ll want you. But Alyc may feel she has a score to settle with me.”
“Women do not judge on appearance alone.”
“You’ve been interested in me, but not because of any encouragement I gave you. I’m not messing with you at all unless I know your real interest. I’ve already been betrayed by one girlfriend!” This was not precisely the case, but his mission required him to say it.
She glanced at him sidelong. “Oho! You think I’m another foreign agent?”
“You could be. Exactly why did you come after me?” They had squeezed out the Annex gate and were now in the concourse. Lysander didn’t want to be there, either, though he saw no Citizens.
“Crowd’s thinning,” Jod’e said. “Can’t talk here.”
“Yes we can,” he said. He grabbed her arm and swung her into an alcove. He embraced her and put his mouth against her left ear. “Tell me.”
“How clever,” she murmured, her mouth beside his own ear. “You tell me you don’t want my love by getting fresh with me. I remember a similar technique in that first Fox and Geese game.”
“Never again, if you don’t stop stalling!”
“Very well. Citizen Troal sent me.”
“Troal! Your employer. Isn’t he close to Blue?”
“Very. And we vamps are close to the Adept Trool.”
“Does this have anything to do with the prophecy that Clef told me about?”
“Prophecy?”
She didn’t know about that? “Never mind. So Troal sent you to me as a favor to Blue?”
“Yes, I believe so. You had better kiss me or do something with your hands; someone’s looking.”
He slid his hands down her back. He remembered their first encounter, of which she had mischievously reminded him, when he had explored her torso so intimately, thinking it was a mannequin. The memory excited him now; she did have a perfect body. “Why, when I was already dating Alyc?”
“Maybe they knew what she was.” She shifted against him, bringing more of that body into play.
Suddenly it made sense. If Blue had known Alyc’s mission, he would not have said so. He would have sought quiet ways to nullify it. If he really believed that Lysander had a key role to play in the support of the planet, he would have tried to protect him from subversion by an enemy agent. So he could have arranged to send an attractive counteragent in. Unfortunately, Lysander had misunderstood the ploy.
“You don’t know why Blue might care about my corruption?” he asked, his hands stroking memory-familiar contours.
“No. My guess is that he really wanted the Game Computer fixed, and not for the aliens.”
He decided she was to be trusted, partly because she didn’t seem to know any more than a pawn in a chess game would know about the motives of the king. “Then let’s get out of here.”
“I know a way out,” Jod’e said. “Then maybe we can get Phaze help. The aliens may not know much about magic.”
Surely true, for he had been quite unprepared for it. He separated from her and started down the concourse—and stopped.
“Serves you right, lover,” Jod’e said, laughing. For he had gotten too involved in their diversionary activity, and his masculine member had responded.
But Alyc had shown him how to handle that. “Run; I’ll chase.”
She took off, and he pursued her with evident amorous intent. But such was the distraction of the other serfs that they paid no attention, this time. By the time Jod’e brought him to the exit she knew, his ardor had subsided.
They crouched by a machine service entrance. “Must wait for a robot,” she said. “Then walk out in its shadow, so the scanner doesn’t catch the human form. I’ll turn bat and perch on you.”
“Just don’t do anything on my shoulder,” he muttered.
She laughed again. “Speaking of which—did Alyc scratch you, when?”
“When what?”
“Some women get very excited, when. They can claw a man’s back.”
“No, she’s not that type. No scratches. Why should you care?”
“I felt a bandage on your back, when I was stroking you.”
“A bandage? I have no bandage!”
“Yes you do. A flesh-colored tape. Effectively invisible; if I hadn’t been touching you, I wouldn’t have known. Here, feel.” She took his hand, twisted his arm behind his back, and brought his
fingers to the place. It was at the most difficult part for him to reach alone.
Now he felt it: a smooth section that was not his own skin. “She must have put it on me, when—I mean, there was a lot of physical activity, and she liked to touch me in the night.”
“I suspect she had some reason to touch you,” she remarked with the hint of a smirk. “Want me to take it off?”
“Yes. No. It could be—” He was abruptly angry, as the realization came. “An identifier. Something an enemy agent would use to mark someone.”
“Then you had better get it off!”
“No. These things—I understand they can be used as beacons. To show where a person is. I don’t want her to know I’ve caught on.”
“But how can I sneak you out, then?”
He sighed. “You can’t. Maybe you had better leave me; I think I’m dangerous for you.”
“But if the aliens want you that bad, you shouldn’t be allowed to fall into their hands.”
“It’s probably just Alyc who wants me that badly. I doubt the aliens care.”
She nodded. “She wants to hold on to you. Maybe she anticipated your reaction to the invasion, so made sure she could find you. If she’s truly their agent, they may give her what she wants. It would be a perquisite of the office.”
“Yes. I liked her, and I didn’t like you trying to cut in. But now—” Again the irony: he was a spy for the Hectare himself, but had to argue the case of the opposition—and found himself believing it. His respect for Alyc had plummeted the moment he learned her nature. Now Jod’e was far more intriguing, and not merely because she represented a prospective route to the core of the true resistance that would be forming. She had been sent at the behest of Citizen Blue, so even if she didn’t know why, she would be able to make contact with the organization he needed to infiltrate. But she was also a true patriot for her culture, and that integrity of motive was appealing. Her beauty hardly diminished the effect.
“Me too,” she said. “You were just an assignment, but you are becoming a person.”
Phaze Doubt Page 9
