Piers Anthony - Robot Adept

“I dared not hesitate,” she said. “But oh, Mach—”

“This may have been a routine verification,” he said. “But the Citizens are looking for us, and we were assigned within the key period. It could have been a preliminary to the pounce.”

“The pounce?”

“If you were looking desperately for a person, and suspected that that person was already in your power, would you alert that person?”

“Nay.”

“The threat to replace me could even be a diversion. They want me with them, not away from them. But you are the real target; if they have you, they have me. You must be the one to escape. I must show you how to incapacitate a human being, and how to melt and reform.”

They worked on it. He pointed out the vulnerable places on the human body, male and female: the spots that could be pressured to bring pain or unconsciousness or death. “If I give the word, you do that to whoever bars your way,” he Said. “Then get to this waste chute and melt into it as fast as you can.”

They drilled on melting, until she could do it with fair swiftness. She practiced moving in the melted state: flowing like goo across the floor, then reforming into something that could climb. “The self-willed machines will help you at the other end, but you have to get through that screen yourself,” he said. “Remember: wait for my signal, then act without question when I give it. Have no concern about me; I am not threatened. Trust the machines. Their forms vary widely, but they are with me. I am a self-willed machine.”

“Aye,” she agreed, frightened.

Next day Citizen Tan himself stopped by, in the voluminous tan cloak or robe that identified him as a Citizen: a member of the only class privileged to wear clothing in Proton. He was the same age as his sister—they were twins—and similar of feature, especially in the eyes. Their tan irises and intensity were eerie. Fleta was afraid of him. Did he suspect her nature, either as Agape or as Fleta? If so, they were lost!

The Citizen asked a number of routine questions. He seemed gentler than his sister, but there was a sureness about his manner that continued to strike alarm in her. What was he up to?

Then, abruptly, she found out. He reached out to catch and squeeze one of her breasts. “Android, I like your look,” he said. “Enter the sleeping chamber with me.”

She followed him into the chamber where the bed was.

“Lie supine, spread your legs,” he said, as he opened his robe. Then, to Mach in the other room: “Robot! Come here and take my robe.”

Mach entered the room and took the robe. He stepped back, watching the proceedings, showing no expression.

Serfs had no rights with respect to Citizens; she had known that as a bit of otherframe folklore all her life. Just as animals had none with respect to Adepts. Power made the only law. But how could she tolerate this? He was going to use her sexually!

If she protested, she would give herself away. If she did not, what would Mach—or Bane—do?

But Mach had told her to wait for his signal before acting. She had to rely on his judgment. She lay down on her back and spread her legs.

It was another irony, she thought, that the sexual act as human beings performed it had no inherent meaning for either her or Agape. She normally would indulge in it only when in heat, for the sole purpose of breeding; only her association with Mach had educated her to the joys of sex as an act of entertainment or of love. Agape, with her completely alien body, would neither breed nor entertain herself in this manner; she surely did it only to please Bane. But now it was a matter of principle: this act should be done only with the one she loved. That, too, was the human way.

Naked, Tan sat beside her, running his hands along her body and up between her legs. “If you like it, I will make you a household serf,” he said. “Your body has a certain distinction from that of other androids. I am not sure exactly what it is. That is what intrigues me about you. Would you like to be a household serf?” This was a direct question, and required an answer.

“No, sir,” she said.

A tan eyebrow elevated in supposed surprise. “Why not? It is an exceptionally easy life, for an android.”

“I am not that kind of android.”

Now his gaze became so intense that she was sure; he had penetrated her disguise. “Exactly what kind of android are you, Agee?”

She had no answer she could give to that without giving herself away, so she did not answer.

“Well, let’s give you more experience on which to base your attitude,” Citizen Tan said. He climbed onto the bed, on hands and knees, his body above hers. “Now you will, regardless of whatever personal reactions you may or may not have, smile and emulate delight as I proceed.” He lowered himself.

Mach stepped forward, starting to speak. He froze.

“Ah yes, the robot,” Citizen Tan said. “Tried to act on its own, and got zapped by the shorting field I just turned on. So it’s self-willed, and quite possibly the one we seek.” He glanced down at Fleta. “But are you the female we seek? If so, this will be a special pleasure for me. I have never before indulged with an alien creature.” He resumed his positioning, about to proceed with the act.

Fleta decided that Mach must have been about to give the signal, before the field enchanted his body. That meant it was time for her to act.

She melted the flesh of her central region. In fact, she had started to do this before consciously making her decision, for the process was well along now. The Citizen’s probing member encountered only mush.

Then that mush rose up and gripped adjacent and very vulnerable flesh.

Tan opened his mouth to scream, as that grip closed. But Fleta slapped a hand across his mouth, and melted it to cover the lower part of his face. “An thou dost say anything, Adept, then will I squeeze, hard,” she whispered, and gave him a small sample. This was a pretty good body, for special effects!

Tan’s eyes glazed with pain. Fleta continued to melt. “Lie down, roll over,” she said.

He dropped on her and rolled over, carrying her around so that she was now on top of him. As she melted, her flesh spread across and around him. Only her head remained humanoid. “Turn off thy magic field.”

When he hesitated, she began to squeeze again.

“I’m free,” Mach said. “We’re off-camera here, but those in the front chamber remain operational, and you must pass through that. Form into his robe and make him take you there.”

She obeyed without question, knowing that only he understood the nature of the magic that surrounded them. She spoke once more to the Citizen: “I will become thy robe. Carry me to the waste chute and dump me there. Else will I squeeze. An thou do it right, thou willst be free o’ me. An thou balk, then will I kill thee, caring naught for my fate thereafter, for it be anyway sealed. Dost understand?”

The Citizen nodded. Then she melted her head, and spread herself over Tan’s body, and changed her color, becoming tan. She was getting good at this!

“Longer, with folds,” Mach murmured.

She thinned herself and lengthened herself, until she matched the length of his original robe. Then, as the man sat up, she flowed around to fill in the back. But she never released her constriction around his generative parts. Her freedom and life were at stake, and this was the other self of an Adept; she knew she could afford no error at all.

Tan walked to the other room. Fleta could no longer see or hear, because she had melted her eyeballs and ears, but she could feel the orientation and motion of his body, and she knew that Mach was following, a nominally servile robot, actually making sure nothing went wrong. She had to trust that the Citizen dumped her correctly.