Piers Anthony: Robot Adept

Uncertainty buffeted her. He did seem exactly like Bane! But so would a clever actor, and if she fell into a trap fashioned by the Contrary Citizens, she could do the real Bane terrible damage. Her only proper course was to resist any blandishments he might make, until and if she was sure of him. The real Bane would understand; a fake one didn’t matter. “I must go my own way.”

He sighed. “I see the justice in thy position, Agape. But an thou shouldst die—” He shook his head. “I know thou canst not afford to accept new information from me, but I beg thee to listen while I remind thee of what thou dost already know. In that way I may help thee to survive the rigors o’ this frame, and if thou be not here, it matters not.”

“There is justice in that,” she agreed, wishing she could simply hug him and believe him.

“Thou dost now occupy the body of Fleta the Unicorn, whom mine other self Mach loves. She has three forms: human, hummingbird and her natural equine one. She has many friends among the ‘corns, weres and vamps. Such as Suchevane.” He said the name with special emphasis. “An thou dost go to that person, mayhap thou canst satisfy thyself.”

Agape nodded. Suchevane, he had told her before, was the most beautiful of female vampires. The setting of Citizen White had foundered when Suchevane had been identified as a male. Bane was giving her a chance to meet the vampire girl now; he had carefully refrained from identifying her sex.

But the minions of Citizen White could have listened to Bane’s prior comment, and learned their mistake. They could be using it now to convince her of the lie.

“No.”

“Aye,” he said sadly. “Then must I leave thee to thine own devices, that thou mayst satisfy thyself of the validity o’ this frame, and therefore of mine own validity too. But one thing I needs must aok, that thou accept a spell o’ protection, so that thou goest not naked into danger.”

“But anything like that would mask the reality of it,” she protested. “Exactly as would be required to conceal an artificial setting.”

“I know it. But on this must I insist, else must I remain with thee myself. I love thee, and shall not allow thee injury or risk that might be avoided. The spell be this: an invocation thou mayst utter that will make thee fade from the perception of those near thee. When danger threatens, say thy name three times, and it be done. But use it not capriciously, for a given spell be effective only once, and it will protect thee not a second time. An thou try it again, I will perceive the effort and come to thee, and woe betide who chastises thee.” Then he sang an invocation of his own, and there was a faint glimmer in the air; that was all.

“Thank you,” Agape said, feeling guilty for her intransigence. Yet if this were all an exceedingly artful device, she would be foolish to let it move her.

Bane walked away. Then, at a brief distance, he vanished. He had evidently invoked some other spell, and conjured himself to other parts. Or so it was meant for her to believe.

She was alone with the basket of oats. She was sorry to waste them, but they were in their hulls; it would be a difficult chore to consume them.

Difficult? Perhaps impossible! She seemed to be unable to melt or change her form. She tried it again, with no success.

Wasn’t that an indication that she was in a different realm, and a different body? No, not necessarily so; the Citizens could have given her medication to fix her in her present format, as part of the illusion.

Exactly what was her present form? Bane had called her Fleta the Unicorn, but she seemed to be thoroughly human. A mirror would have helped, but even without it she could tell that this was not her normal human semblance. Indeed, it seemed to have fixed flesh, with bones and digestion differing from her own. She wore a black cloak and orange slippers, and had a bony knob set in her forehead. That last detail suggested the unicorn form; it certainly seemed genuine. But surgery could have implanted it.

And, in one pocket, she found a somewhat grimy feather. Why would the unicorn have saved this?

The unicorn? Already she was accepting the appearance as valid! But if this was a Citizen setup, why would they have given her a dirty feather?

Well, she could throw it away. But if she did so, and this really was Phaze, she would be discarding something of evident value to Fleta. That did not appeal. So she repocketed the feather and reconsidered her situation.

She stood not far from the great Purple Mountain range. It really was purple, rising in the southwest. In Proton they were barren peaks; here they were clothed in verdure. She had had some experience in the Purple Adept’s mock-up of a section of these mountains, so they seemed familiar. If this were a larger mock-up, perhaps she could discover it by exploring that region of the range.

She started walking. She soon felt hot; the air was warm, and the sun was shining, and the grass was so thick she had to forge through it, so that she was expending energy and heating herself internally. She was tempted to take off the voluminous black cloak so as to let the brief breezes cool her body. Actually, she would feel better without it, because all of her time on Planet Proton had been spent without clothing; she was, here, a serf.

But on Phaze serfs wore clothing. Bane had been clothed. She had been so distracted she had hardly noticed! So nakedness might be an error here. If this really were Phaze.

She didn’t know, so after brief consideration, she removed her cloak. She had nothing on beneath it, other than the orange socks; her body was lithe and well formed, and seemed designed to be free of constraint. She walked on, feeling better.

But after a time she felt the heat on her shoulders, and realized that the sunlight was damaging them. Nakedness was a privilege available only to those in protected environments, such as the domes! With regret, she unfolded the cloak and donned it again; it was better to sweat than to burn.

Sweat? She didn’t sweat! Moebites dissipated heat by extending thin sheets of flesh to radiate excess calories, and by reducing activity. Only true human beings exuded moisture from their skins for the purpose of cooling. And horses. And androids.

Was she a true human being now? If so, she had to be in Phaze. No—she could be an android in Proton, so that was not definitive.

Yet how could her mind have been transferred to another living body? She was not a robot or cyborg; her mind was a part of her entire physical being, inseparable from the flesh. If she had accompanied Bane to Phaze, it would be an aspect of the exchange; Fleta the Unicorn would now be in Proton with Mach the Robot. But that might be just what the Citizens wanted her to think. Perhaps they did have a technique for transferring consciousness of an android body, perhaps maintaining an electronic link to her natural one. How could she tell the difference? Or they could simply have drugged her and given her hypnotic suggestion, to cause her to dream a programmed dream and believe that her body as she now found it was real. In that case, there would be no real danger to her—but the Citizens might go to extremes to make her think there was danger.

As if on cue, a great hulking shape appeared in the air: some monstrous flying creature. It looked very like a dragon.

Should she try to hide from it, or should she ignore it? If this were a setup, it wouldn’t matter. But if this were real, she could be in serious trouble.

She decided to play it safe. She ducked, trying to hide in the high grass.

But the dragon, evidently questing for prey, had already spotted her. It flew directly toward her. It came close, circled her once, then made a strafing run. Fire shot from its mouth, coming straight at her.