Phaze Doubt

by Piers Anthony

  She gazed at the wall and pondered the play-family situation. Father, mother, daughter, father accused of poisoning the king in order to assume the throne. By the rules of this contest, she was sure, any statement made by a player had to be taken at face value; if the Hectare said the father was next in line for the throne, then it would be so, and they would have to find a way to nullify that motive without denying the connection. They could do that at the outset, as Purple had the first statement, but that would be purely defensive. If they said that the father was unrelated, merely a good friend of the king’s, who had no motive to do him harm, the Hectare might merely modify the charge: the father was doing it because he had no personal ambition, and would be unsuspected; he had a secret reason to promote a third party, who had promised him a much better position. That would be hard to refute, and the effort would keep them on the defensive, a bad position to be in. So the answer must be in the attack: keep the heat on the other side, so that it could not attack the father.

  She was discovering that her mind was attuning nicely to this challenge, despite her lack of experience. Perhaps it was the fascination of the setting, whose appeal made her truly want to participate.

  “Time,” the Game Computer announced.

  “Go for the attack!” Brown said hurriedly. “Never let up! I’m not sure of our defense.”

  “My own conclusion,” he said.

  They passed through the decorated stone door and reentered the main chamber. The Hectare and Citizen Tan emerged from an opposite chamber.

  Now it occurred to Brown that the layout of the palace could be significant; a person could establish an alibi by showing that he was nowhere near the kitchen at the time the dates were poisoned. No, the suspects had already been determined, so must have had access. Still, the complicated network of the palace might figure in some other way; she would keep that in mind.

  “We are gathered here in the South Anteroom to determine the truth,” the Game Computer said. “The scenes will be reenacted as described. Players will take turns addressing particular actors. Citizen Purple will make the opening statement.”

  “I address the maiden in the multicolored dress,” Purple said.

  As he spoke, that one animated, looking at him. “She is the sister of that young man.” He pointed to the narrow-waisted man Brown thought of as the bull-leaper. “She is in love with her brother’s friend, there.” He indicated the other young man. The young woman walked to the young man and embraced him, dramatizing their love. They made a pretty couple. “She wanted to marry him, but the king wanted her for a concubine.” The couple broke, and the woman gazed with evident dismay offstage, where presumably the king was beckoning. “So, in order to protect his sister, the brother tried to poison—”

  “Objection!” Tan cried. “He is charging an unaddressed player.”

  “Sustained,” the Game Computer said. “Statement must be limited to the addressed player.”

  Purple scowled, and Brown, sharing his situation, understood. The rule should have been clarified beforehand. “Still, you can establish the motive by implication,” she murmured.

  Purple nodded. “Correction: the young woman knew that the king desired her for a concubine, and that this would ruin her chance to marry her beloved, so she pleaded with her brother to do something to ease her case.” The young woman approached the man designated as her brother, and gestured animatedly as she faced him: her pleading. “She knew he would do whatever it took.” She looked confident.

  Brown considered it a good attack. The Hectare could hardly afford to ignore it; even if a motive were established for some other player, that brotherly love would be persuasive. It was also a good animation. She knew that the setting was largely illusion, and that the characters were robots, but everything looked real and alive, and it was easy to suspend disbelief. The drama was coming alive for her.

  The Hectare consulted briefly with his second, then made some squeaks. “I address the brother,” the translator said. The indicated young man animated. “It is true that he loves his sister, but his loyalty to his king is paramount. He would do anything to promote the welfare of his sister that does not conflict with his honor. So though she begged him to help her, and he agreed, he stressed that no action could be taken against the king. Instead, he would try to distract the king by proffering another potential concubine, the daughter of respected palace nobles.” A tentacle pointed, and Purple’s young woman animated: she was the one.

  “Oops,” Brown murmured, suddenly seeing what was coming.

  “Tan’s sharper than I thought,” Purple muttered. “He saw me coming with the brother ploy.”

  “So he approached the other woman,” the translation continued, and the young man did just that with Purple’s young woman. “He suggested to her that the king found her interesting, but hesitated to approach her because he did not wish to offend his friend the noble. If, on the other hand, she were to approach the king, she might find a warm reception, and excellent benefits from his favor. She, taken by surprise, agreed to consider the matter. However, her father overheard, and—”

  “Objection!” Brown called. “Neither the girl nor her father is being addressed.”

  “Sustained,” the Game Computer said.

  “As the brother left the girl,” the Hectare translation continued, “he saw her father in an adjacent chamber, separated by only a hanging rug, and realized that the man had been listening to their conversation. That made him nervous, for he knew the father to be a man set in his ways, and there was no telling what he might do if he thought his daughter was about to compromise herself with the king and ruin her value on the marriage market.”

  Brown was worried. The Hectare, supposedly not comfortable with human conventions, was addressing them very well. That had to be Tan’s input; he probably was serving the Hectare as loyally as Brown was serving Purple, lest his own hide suffer.

  “This I can handle,” Purple murmured. Brown was relieved, because her mind was blank on this one; she realized that she was not good at devious ploys. “I’ll throw him a curve that will scotch this ploy.”

  Purple spoke to the stage. “I address the father.” The man straightened up behind the rug. “What he overheard amazed him, but his reaction was not anger but gratification. He had felt subtly alienated from the king recently, and now understood why: the king was developing another kind of interest. But if his daughter were to attract the king’s interest, the father would be right back in the king’s favor. Since the daughter seemed to have no good prospects for marriage, this was an excellent alternative prospect. Meanwhile, this development provided him with a sinister private satisfaction. He was privy to certain secrets of the palace, and knew that the fiancée of the girl whose brother was trying to save her from the king was not the sterling character he seemed. He led a double life, and had had a mistress of lower class whom he had dearly loved—until the king had taken her as a passing concubine, and she had dumped him, the friend.”

  “Objection!” Tan said.

  “I am not addressing any other character,” Purple said. “I am merely describing the father’s thoughts, which cover his knowledge of palace intrigues and affect his course of action.”

  “Overruled.” the Game Computer said.

  Purple smiled, and continued. “The father knew that the friend had of course been unable to protest, but nursed an abiding grudge against the king for that episode, though the king had been unaware of his interest in the girl. The friend’s present engagement was a matter of expedience; his heart was not in it, though he said nothing to her brother about that. When the king’s interest in his fiancée developed, the friend realized that the king might do him an unwitting favor to match the unwitting injury before, by breaking up a liaison he had concluded he did not desire. But now the king was about to ruin even that, if the brother’s ploy was effective, and leave him stuck. He realized that it was pointless to allow events to take their own course; if he was going to sett
le with the king for the prior injury, it had better be now.” Purple smiled. “Such were the thoughts of the father. Of course he intended to protect the king against any such attack, and resolved to watch the young man closely.”

  Brown had to admit that Purple was a cunning character; he had figured out how to address two characters at the same time, defending his own and renewing the attack on his opponent’s.

  There was a pause while Tan and the Hectare consulted; this one had them in trouble. Then the Hectare squeaked. “I address the friend. So he considered killing the king, but naturally did not care to do it openly. Casting about for some subtle means, such as poisoning, he went to the storage region of the palace, where the king’s special favorite dates were kept for him alone. But as he navigated the tortuous passages, he encountered another person: the girl’s mother. He realized that though her father might approve a liaison between daughter and king, the mother would not. Indeed she would be so set against such dishonor that she might do virtually anything to prevent it. He realized that he did not need to do anything; the woman would do it for him. So he look another passage, and left her to go her way. It seemed that he could not lose: if the woman took out the king, his vengeance would be complete and he would be blameless. If she did not, the king would do him the favor of taking his fiancée off his hands.”

  It was Purple’s turn again. “It’s learning,” he muttered with grudging respect. “It’s going along with me, but diverting it. This may get complicated.”

  “But the mother won’t have the nerve to kill anyone,” Brown said.

  “Sure enough.” He faced the stage. “I address the mother. She did indeed have murder on her mind, to protect her daughter, but her encounter with the friend made her realize that she could hardly sneak in unobserved and poison the dates. Also, the closer she got to the storage room, the more appalling the notion of killing anyone became, especially the king, who was a good friend of her husband’s. She simply couldn’t do it. She would have to talk to her daughter, and persuade her not to do this thing, to save herself for some nice young man who was sure to come along eventually. So the mother set her vial of poison in a niche out of sight, and walked on by the storeroom, relieved that she had found a better way.”

  Purple took a breath. “However, it occurred to her in a moment that the vial wasn’t safe there; a cleaning wench might find it. and ask awkward questions, and if they tested it on an animal they would soon know its nature. So she turned about and went to recover it, despite her nervousness about possibly getting caught with it. But to her surprise and dismay she discovered it gone. It had been only a few minutes, and there was no one else in the passage. She realized that only one person could have taken it: the young man she had encountered and walked with briefly. He must have watched her, and then gone to recover the vial the moment she was gone. Was he going to use it himself?”

  Purple had turned it back on the Hectare. The mother was innocent, but the friend still had motive and opportunity—and poison now. The finale was approaching, and Purple’s situation was good.

  But Tan had evidently been pondering ploys, and came up with a good one for the Hectare. “I address the daughter,” the Hectare squeaked. The daughter turned to face him, her proud breasts prominent above her tiny waist, the sparkle of her necklaces calling attention to her frontal assets. Her skirt bands matched the color of her jewelry, providing her an artistic unity that further enhanced her sex appeal. Even her bare toes showing beneath her skirt contributed, suggesting that her legs were similarly innocent of covering all the way up under the skirt. Brown found herself desiring the girl, despite everything; the humanoid robot had come alive in the play, and become for her the highborn daughter of a Cretan noble. Such a girl could readily be loved.

  “This young woman has been misunderstood by all,” the translator continued. “The brother thought to persuade her to attract the notice of the king, and she seemed to be interested. Her father was glad for that prospect, while her mother was horrified. But in truth she had no intention of indulging with the king—or any man.”

  Brown felt a chill of apprehension. Purple would keep her secret as long as she supported him, but she had to deal with Tan, who surely also knew her secret. Was he going to throw in lesbianism to mess her up, so that the Hectare could gain the advantage over Purple? If she lost her concentration now, the play might be done before she could regain it. She tried to steel herself.

  “For you see, she distrusted men. It seemed to her that they inevitably took unfair advantage of women, and the king was the worst of all, because he had most power. Now her friend’s brother wanted her to distract the king, so that his sister could remain with her fiancé. But that fiancé was false, having secret affairs and no real respect for the woman he was to marry. If she were to distract the king, the fiancé would find another way to get rid of the fiancé. And her own father, instead of protesting the prospect of her liaison with the king, was in favor of it, because it would lend him additional status. Thus all the men were hopelessly corrupt. Only her mother supported her.” As the translator spoke, the named players animated and posed, the three men looking villainous, the mother looking noble.

  But maybe he was going another route, Brown thought. Distrust of men was not the same as love of women. Brown herself did not hate men; she had great affection and respect for a number, beginning with the Adept Stile. She just didn’t care to have sex with them, any more than the men would care to have it with each other.

  “So she, realizing that her mother lacked the gumption to do the job, and not trusting any man to do it, realized that she would probably have to do it herself. She hated the king and wanted him dead, because of his power over women and the possibility of his deciding to take her as a lover. Now was the time to kill him, because she had seen her friend’s fiancé go to the storerooms, and take the poison—”

  “Objection!” Brown cried. “It has been established that only two people were in those halls at the time. There is no way a third could have been there.”

  “Sustained,” the Game Computer said.

  “She had seen him go there, and saw her mother emerge without the poison, so she knew he had taken it.”

  “Objection! She couldn’t know that. He might have—”

  “Sustained. A third sustained objection will terminate the turn.”

  “Why are you objecting?” Purple inquired quietly. “The Hectare is framing his own character.”

  “I don’t trust that,” she said. “Whatever he’s doing, I want to stop it.”

  Purple shrugged. “Paranoia is good, in such a contest.”

  Brown felt pleased, then condemned herself for it. She didn’t want Purple’s favor! She just had to win this game for him, and go her own way.

  “She knew he could have taken it,” the Hectare said through the translator, after a pause for consultation. If it was annoyed, it didn’t show it. “Later she went herself to check, and found no poison, so she believed he had taken it. He was in a position to poison the dates.”

  Now even Purple was perplexed. “The Hectare can’t be throwing the game! They play to win, always.”

  “That meant that he could be framed,” the Hectare continued. Suddenly Brown appreciated the point: the buildup of the seeming guilt of a character determined to be innocent. Ouch! “So she could steal the poison from him, use it on the dates, and accuse him of the crime. In this manner she could get away with murdering the king, and another bad man would pay the penalty. It would be a double victory.”

  “Brother,” Purple muttered. “This will be hard to refute. It’s him or her, and we don’t have room to show much more about him.” For the first time he looked uncomfortable; in fact downright nervous. Brown would have enjoyed the sight, if her own situation had not been on the line too.

  She appreciated the problem. How could they explain away that motive, or put the young man into a situation that would make it obvious he was the guilty one? Any new wrinkle t
hey might try could be turned around as another ploy in the frame: he looked guilty but wasn’t. The Hectare was playing with increasing competence and finesse, catching on rapidly to the nuances of the human condition.

  They needed to get the girl of the palace, far away at the critical time. But they couldn’t, because she was one of the suspects; she had had opportunity to place the poison. Now she had motive, too; they could not undo that. At this stage, the jury was likely to rule against the girl. They couldn’t even give her an alibi, such as a love tryst at the critical time with her brother, because Tan and the Hectare had cleverly shut off that option by making her distrust men.

  Then Brown saw the answer. It was painful for her, but it would do the job. “She was with her girlfriend at the time,” she said. “You know how to play it.”

  Purple looked at her. “We made a deal. I need your golems on my side. They won’t be, if I break that deal.”

  “There won’t be any deal, if you lose your hand,” she pointed out, amazed to hear herself arguing this case.

  He nodded. “Play now, talk later. Maybe it will work.”

  “Nothing else will,” she said.

  He faced the stage. “I address the daughter,” he said, and the actress faced him, as lovely as before. “She had motive to kill the king, and to frame her friend’s fiancé getting rid of two bad men. She had intent. She had the courage to do it. But something happened at the critical time.” He paused for effect, and the play paused with him.

  “As it has been established, she was a most attractive figure of a woman, but she had a grudge against men. That did not mean that she had no romantic life. She cared very much about her gender. So she went to her friend, and told her of the perfidy of men, especially what she knew about both the king and the fiancée. Her friend was not really surprised; she had tried to blind herself to the infidelities of her fiancé, had known he was no good. She had no better opinion of the king. The two women agreed that no man was to be trusted. Their dialogue became more animated and intimate, as they discovered in each other a deep current of compatibility. This became physical, and in the end they loved each other. Because this was their first such experience, it was slow, with many hesitations. As a result, their encounter lasted several hours—the very time that the poisoning of the dates occurred.”