Piers Anthony - Unicorn Point

She paused again, as if interrupted, but the hens were rapt. “What’s that, you say? How could he meet his commitment to me, if he was gone? Well he did, in his fashion. He left his beautiful bantam body here, taken over by his other self, the Blue Adept of Phaze. The Citizens had to accept this exchange, because many of them had other selves in Phaze and had agreed that in the event of the death of one of them, the Phaze alternate would be accepted in lieu. It was a device for ensuring proper succession, you see. So Citizen Blue ap peared, wielding the power of Stile, and the battle between them has continued ever since. The Contrary Citizens wish to recover control so that they can exploit the planet without regard for tomorrow, while Blue fights to maintain a proper balance, and also to liberalize Proton society. Philosophy is no concern of mine, but I do like Blue as I liked Stile, so I support him. And it was Blue who discharged Stile’s commitment to me.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, what a night we had! The man was between loves at the time, having lost his wife to his other self, and not yet committed to the robot woman; he had a lot to give. He really made me feel the age I looked. But that was it; thereafter he married the machine, and has been faithful to her since. Still, I am minded to play a little game with him, if you do not object. After all, I like to think that I am approaching parallelism with the Yellow Adept, who can use an elixir to make herself as blushingly beautiful as she once may have been, and who was once rather taken with Stile herself. We do have our little ways with those of the masculine persuasion.” The hens looked at her quizzically. They now had an excellent view of what she offered men, as they squatted almost within the area enclosed by her spread legs, but did not seem to understand.

“You see, things have heated up recently,” she explained. “Blue’s robot son Mach managed to exchange with Stile’s human son Bane in Phaze, establishing the first contact be tween the frames in twenty years. What a can of worms that opened! We humans don’t appreciate worms the way you chickens do. The robot boy, delighted to have a living body, fell in love with a unicorn there, while the human boy loved an alien creature here. Didn’t that make conventional folk sweat! Now both those couples have offspring, who have be come pawns in the larger power play. Little Nepe is captive of the Citizens, and little Flach captive of the Adepts in Phaze. So they have scheduled a big double tourney to settle it, and the winner will have the ultimate power. Am I boring you?” The hens gazed at her. They did not seem bored.

“Well, then, I shall tell you the rest of it. I have been busy helping Citizen Blue with the negotiations. The details of the Proton Tourney had to be worked out to satisfy the disparate interests of both sides, and this was most difficult to do, be cause of course each wanted the advantage. My mind has not been so pleasantly exerted in decades! We finally hammered out a compromise. For the first contest, each side would choose a player from the elder generation—the ones who fought each other when Stile was on the scene in Proton. Thus Citizen Purple met the robot Sheen, Blue’s wife, in a dragon duel, and I regret to say defeated her in fair play. For the third contest, each side will choose a representative from the middle generation, those who came on the scene when Mach and Bane exchanged places. And for the second con test, players have been chosen from the young generation, or those who entered the picture more recently. That completes the span of generations. But because this contest may be cru cial—there may be no third contest, if the Citizens win this one—they arranged another device. Each side got to choose the opponent the other side would put up.”

She laughed. “Yes, I see how that amazes you! How could such a thing be workable? Wouldn’t the choices be designed to be the worst possible players, to guarantee the loss? And the answer is, of course—but the array of choices is sharply limited. Only those who actually have participated in signif icant events were eligible. The Oracle passed judgment, re jecting ineligible nominations. Thus the Citizens came to be represented by a young woman named Tsetse—some time I really must explore the derivation of that name!—who has no Game training but who, being the secretary of Citizen Tan’s sister and the mistress of Citizen Purple, qualifies despite the defection to Tania. Her assets are said to be almost entirely in her body, not her brain. The Citizens are not pleased, but are stuck for it. And Blue’s side is to be represented by a robot friend of little Nepe’s called Troubot, former informa tion expediter for the Citizens. Now you might think such a robot would be ineligible to represent Blue, but the Citizens pointed out that he in effect defected when he helped Nepe’s alien mother to escape the planet, and to that logic the Oracle acceded. So Troubot it is; he will play against Tsetse for extraordinarily high stakes. But there is just one little problem.”

She paused again, artfully, and sure enough, the hens peered at her attentively, enraptured by her narration. Merle was good at making an effect, and she enjoyed it now. “But I doubt that you would be interested in such a detail. Perhaps it is time for me to go tease Blue.”

Heningway actually stood and came closer, as if to plead for the finale. Merle stroked her again and relented. “Very well, it is this: Troubot can not be found. He is hiding, surely fearing the vengeance of the Citizens, and though the call has been spread across the networks, he has not responded. I am not a robot, but I believe I can guess his concern: how can he be sure the call is legitimate? It could have been put out by the Citizens, to lure him in, so that they can capture and destroy him. Naturally he is cautious. But as it happens, the call is legitimate, and if Blue does not succeed in presenting Troubot for the contest by tomorrow. Blue will have to forfeit the game and the planet to the Contrary Citizens. So you can see the matter is critical. Blue is desperate—exactly as the Citizens hoped. They have found a ploy that may defeat him by default, and Tsetse will never have to play. It’s a beautiful tactic, I must confess; I could hardly have thought of one better.”

She stood. “Well, you have been an excellent audience, but I think I shall go call Blue and tease him a bit. I’ll make him come here, so you can see him sweat. Enjoy your selves!”

Merle departed, closing the chamber door behind her. The hens remained where they were for a time, listening; only when they heard the second door close, signaling the woman’s entry into her house proper, did they rise. Then Heningway went to the door to peek out, while the others milled about aimlessly, pecking at stray grains. Heningway, reassured that the woman really was gone, re turned to the center of the little flock. She gave a coded series of clucks. Immediately the others clustered close. They hud dled, stretching their necks, touching their beaks together. With that contact, their nature changed. A person watching would have seen only their peculiar formation, but one who tuned in their electrical activity would have discovered the reality.

For the six individuals represented the components of a larger apparatus. The little flock was not a flock, but the parts of a self-willed robot. Each part was equipped with chicken legs and chicken head and feathers, but was not alive. Each was set up to emulate the simple acts of a hen: walking, pecking, defecating. The droppings were of pseudo-organic matter, because these hens had no digestive systems. The main brain unit was in the part labeled Heningway, with supplementary parts distributed among the others so that they could react to events in a reasonable manner. Fortunately, hens were not expected to be overly ambitious, and this was an extremely protected environment.