Piers Anthony - Robot Adept

But they were amoeba, not robots. They lacked his strength and ferocity of reflex. He dived below the dangerous tentacles and slammed into the ball-body. It squished. He reached up to grasp the insulated handle end of a pole and ripped it out of the flaccid grasp. He jammed the point against the opposite point.

There was a flash. That shorted out the shorter; it was now useless. He dropped it and scrambled on out of the chamber.

Soon he found himself outside, on land. But the others were following, and he knew they would not be careless again with their shorters. He had to get farther away.

The water! He could handle it, and the shorter could not. He would be safe there. He ran for it, and plunged in.

In a moment he was in the wilderness of uncivilized Moeba. Life was thick, here in the sunlit shallows, and he discovered to his surprise, also beautiful.

Some shapes were like yellow ferns, waving gently in the warm current. Some were like patches of blue gelatin, spread across the warm rocks. Some were like pink puffballs clinging to vertical surfaces, and others like the thick brown bristles of scrub brushes. Some were like flowing syrup, and some like puffy white mold—which they just might be. Many were like large ant eggs standing on end, and many others were like dewed spider webs.

This was the realm from which Agape had sprung. He made a file of photographs of it, so that Bane would be able to recall this information and see it all, exactly as Mach was seeing it now, when Bane returned to this body. Mach knew that his living other self would be pleased.

He was safe, now, walk-swimming through the water. But how was he to return safely to Proton? By this time Citizen Blue would have secured things there; all Mach needed to do was get there, and see how Fleta was doing.

He decided to wait a reasonable interval, then return to the museum, where the Moebite authorities should have dealt with the intruders. As Coan had said violence was not tolerated there; they would do whatever they did to criminals. Then he would be able to return to the space station in the normal manner and take the next ship for Proton. It should be straightforward now that he had triggered the trap and escaped it. Agape too, should be safe, when she came here; the Contrary Citizens’ fangs had been pulled, at least on this planet.

Meanwhile, he would explore this realm further recording as much of its beauty as he could for Bane.

Chapter 7 Troll

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When she recovered full consciousness, she was in a cage. She scrambled up in alarm.

Immediately a bat leaped into the air beside her cage. The bat became a woman of extraordinary beauty, wearing a light cloak resembling the folded wings of the bat. “Adept!” she exclaimed. “She wakes!”

An extraordinarily ugly man appeared. “Aye,” he agreed. “The amulet restored her somewhat. Now must thou teach her to change her form.”

The woman reached up and opened the cage. “Come to me, hummingbird,” she said. “I be Suchevane, and I did promise my bitch friend to help thee. She says thou art not Fleta, but her other self, unable to use her body well.”

So this was Suchevane! Bane had been right; there could be no lovelier creature than this! Agape hopped onto her hand.

“The Red Adept caged thee with an amulet to restore thy strength, but thou must also eat,” Suchevane said. “Now shall I revert to my natural form. Do thou take my paw and change back to girlform with me. Dost thou understand?”

The routine was becoming familiar. Agape nodded agreement.

The woman set her down on the floor. Then the bat reappeared, beside her. Agape touched the bat’s paw. Then she willed herself to change when the bat did.

The room reeled. She found herself being supported by the bat-girl. She was human again!

“I thank thee, Suchevane,” the Red Adept said. “Now can I help her, and thou be free to return to thy flock.”

“Will she be well, Adept?” Suchevane asked anxiously. “She be—her body be my friend too.”

“She will be well,” the Adept assured her. “It will take time for her to recover completely, for much vitality was lost in the birdform, but I will see to her recovery.”

The bat-girl smiled at him. “Much do I appreciate this, Adept. An thou dost need me for aught else, thou needst but ask.”

“For naught but dreams,” the man muttered. Then, with ordinary volume: “Thou has done more than enough. I must not hold thee longer.”

“Then do I take my leave,” Suchevane said. She became the bat, and flew away.

The ugly man turned to Agape. “I be Trool the Troll, otherwise known as the Red Adept. I see thou art repelled by mine appearance, as all normal damsels be. But fear not; I gave up trollish ways when the Blue Adept befriended me. I mean thee no harm, but only to restore thee to proper health and the use o’ thy body, so that thou mayst go thy way without danger. It was needful to convert thee to thine human form so that thou couldst eat normally.” He walked to a chest and brought out an armful of fruits and breads. “Do thou eat thy fill, and then I will show thee where thou mayst rest. The cage were but to protect thee from injury, an thou shouldst wake and be affrighted.”

Agape gazed at him, becoming reassured. “You like her, don’t you.”

The Adept paused, taken aback. “Does it show so much? I wish to make not a fool o’ myself.”

“No, not at all,” Agape said quickly. “She is stunningly beautiful, and I—I am an alien creature who loves a human man. I think I tune in to this sort of thing, now.”

“An old troll has no business dreaming,” he said. “Now do thou eat, for thy present well-being is but temporary, the result o’ mine amulet. I will leave thee now; do thou snap thy fingers when thou wishest aught.”

He turned away.

Agape realized that she was ravenous, but she had a doubt. “Adept, if you will—if it is not an imposition—would you stay?”

“Stay? I thought to relieve thee o’ my presence whilst thou dost eat.”

“Your presence is no affront to me. I recognize that for a man you are ugly, but I realize that you are not a man, and in any event, my standards are alien. I am not certain I can eat, here, so may need your further help.”

“The food be good,” he said quickly. “The vamps provide it—”

“I am sure it is good. It is that my normal mode of eating may not work, here, and I am not sure I can eat the human way.”

“Thou dost become more interesting by the moment,” the Adept said. “Do thou make the attempt, an this suit thee not, I will fetch other.”

Agape made the attempt. She put her face over a chunk of bread and tried to melt into the digestive format. Nothing happened.

Trool fetched a chair and sat opposite her. “Exactly how dost thou eat, in thine own fashion?”

Agape described the process.

“But thou dost know how human beings eat?”

“I have seen it happen;” she admitted.

“Thou art now in human form, and not merely in external emulation,” he said. “Do thou imitate me, step by step.” He took a chunk of bread, and brought it to his face.

She imitated him. He opened his mouth, baring his teeth, and bit into the bread. She bit likewise. He tore free a piece of bread and closed his mouth over it. She did the same. He closed his mouth and masticated, and she did too. Finally he swallowed, and she copied him as well as she could.

The sodden mass of chewed bread went down inside her neck and into her main torso.

“That be it,” he said. “Thy body will take care o’ it from here. Do thou continue eating.” He took another bite.

“You mean—that’s all?” she asked, amazed by the revelation. “I don’t need to melt into it?”