Piers Anthony - Unicorn Point

Mach walked on out of the warehouse, unhurried. He merged with the traffic of the hall beyond: serfs, androids and lesser robots. There was always activity around warehouse areas, because the needs of Citizens and their serfs were constant. No sensors were tracking him at the moment; in the course of nine years he had come to know the capacities of this robot body well, and could now do things with it that Mach himself could not, because his living human mind was superior to the best that a machine mind could be. He could detect sensors, having modified this body some time back to do so. It was a great advantage! He had set things up, but he needed a pretext to dawdle while the ice cream was delivered. The Citizens would be least likely to suspect Agape of making her escape before Bane arrived to see her after two weeks’ absence. But it would be suspicious if he delayed; he normally had one thing in mind at such times. Well, he would not delay; he would be delayed by an out side party. It was time to exploit another hidden feature of this body.

He tuned in on a paging station. He sent a signal that mimicked its control sequence, as if a call were coming through. A call seeking Bane himself.

“Bane,” the loudspeakers of the vicinity blared. “Incoming call. Please pick up at convenient unit.”

“Damn!” Bane said, as if displeased. He walked to the nearest public phone station. “Bane here,” he snapped. “Be this call important? I be on my way to—“

“It will take only a moment,” a dulcet female voice cut in. He was generating it electronically in his own body, but it sounded authentic, and any recording would sound authentic also. It was almost impossible to trace the origin of local calls unless special procedures were invoked. “I am a visiting journalist, and I just wanted to—“

“I know thee not, nor any journalists,” he said.

“Look, I have been away for two weeks and have naught to—“

“Please, this will be very brief. I believe you are the only self-willed robot to have a—“

“I be not a rovot! I be a living man!”

“Beg pardon? I understood that—“

So it continued: his irate explanation that he was actually a man in a robot’s body, for an interviewer who had difficulty getting that straight. He played both parts with a certain vigor, pleased with his imagination. By the time he finally won free of the persistent caller, almost half an hour had passed, and he appeared fit to explode.

He hurried on to his rendezvous with Agape. By this time, he trusted, Nepe should have explained, Troubot would have arrived with the ice cream, and Agape would have rejected such a ridiculous order—and melted and gone out with Troubot in lieu of it. There was still about an hour to the departure of the ship for ConGlom: sufficient time to trundle there with out haste. All he had to do was make sure that the Citizens did not catch on before the ship took off. He reached the suite, and touched the panel. His hand was coded for it; it opened and let him in. He paused, checking the security. There were supposed to be no electronic spies operating within, but he never took that on faith. His own electronic mechanisms traced the circuits, verifying that all were accounted for. It was all right; nothing had changed. That meant that he could talk freely, here.

He entered the main chamber. Agape was there, standing behind a chair. He suffered a siege of alarm—then relaxed. “Very good, Nepe,” he said. “Thou dost resemble her exactly.”

“Did I fool you for an instant, Daddy?” she demanded eagerly.

“For an instant,” he agreed. “Longer, had I not known thou wouldst not fail me.” He strode across the room and enfolded her, embracing her as if she were her mother.

“Easy, Daddy,” she said. “I’m standing on the ice cream.” So she was. Her natural mass was less than half that of Agape, so she had perched on the top of the oblong container, and formed only that portion of the body from the narrowing of the waist up. She had done a superlative job; the breasts were full and perfect in their contours and heft, the arms were completely functional, and the neck and head so apt that it was hard to believe this was an emulation. Of course the original Agape was an emulation, which perhaps made it easier. Still, it was impressive.

“Thou hast done well, Nepe,” he said. “Maintain this emulation while I call out; I want them to know Agape is here with me.”

She remained as she was, while he crossed to the screen. She had positioned herself so that only her upper portion could be seen by the pickup. He activated it, knowing that the two-way connection would show his wife in the background. The Citizens would be monitoring this; their agents would be reassured, and no report would be made. But the moment the line was opened. Bane extended his electronic expertise. He tuned in on a nearby line reserved for Citizens, and fixed a limited diversion that would allow him to monitor it without being detected unless this specific device was suspected. This technology was not generally known; in fact, he was practicing the Proton equivalent of magic. Mach had become the Robot Adept, now far more talented in that respect than Bane. But Bane, unadvertised, had become the equivalent in Proton, and now he was drawing on these unique skills.

“Hold all calls, this hour,” he said. “Except from Citizens, of course.” Then he disconnected, not waiting for confirmation. This was his normal procedure; the nature of his first-hour activity was generally known. But now he had his secret loop established. Outsiders could neither call in nor spy on what happened here, but he would know what was going on outside. Already there was a stream of routine communications, as one Citizen contacted the office of another about some trifle. Mach monitored these on what in his living brain would have been a subconscious level; if any key reference occurred, he would be alerted. “Now thou mayest talk,” he told Nepe.

“Are you really changing sides. Daddy?” she asked, delighted. “How come?”

“The threats against thy mother and Fleta in Phaze repre sent a violation o’ our covenant. Mach and I agreed to serve the Adverse Adepts and Contrary Citizens in return for their protection and sanction o’ our liaisons with our chosen females. Since Mach made the first deal much has changed; he won the contest that required me to join him. But Stile’s opposition to Mach’s union with Fleta ended, so the original cause was gone; only our agreements held us. We have served loyally; as thou knowest, we finally did locate Flach and capture him, and through him, thee. But all along, we would have preferred to be on the other side. Evidently the Citizens and Adepts, knowing this, and balked for four years, decided to make one swift sweep and gain a permanent advantage by unethical means. They tried to conceal this from us, believing that they could secure the power they required in both frames before we realized. But Flach told me, and now I be acting, and Mach be acting, to remove ourselves and our loved ones from the enemy camp.”

“I’m glad, Daddy! I didn’t like hiding from you, but—”

“Each must serve the side he serves. Now we be united in purpose as well as in person, and needs must we plan for action. As soon as Agape be offplanet, we must get thee to Blue.”

“But what about you. Daddy? Once they find out, they will make you prisoner.”

“I have means o’ escape. Thou dost be the one we must free next. We can use not the ice cream ploy again. Mayhap we can send thee to a game while we—“ He hesitated.

“Daddy, I know what you do with Mommy. I kept track of you, those years, and Flach told me about Mach and Fleta.”

“How couldst thou keep track o’ that?” he asked, be mused. “E’en as Troubot, thou didst ne’er see the act.”