Piers Anthony - Unicorn Point

She knew the answer to the last question. Bane wanted her to win this game and the tourney, so that Citizen Blue would prevail. Bane loved her, but he was a realist. He would tell her to do what she had to do.

But could she? The very notion of seeking a sexual encounter with another man, even via a surrogate, appalled her. All she knew of this subject she had learned with Bane.

Granted the necessity, still she doubted she could do it. Then she thought of Nepe, captive of the Citizens. Her child. A victory here would bring her back. Now Agape knew that she would do it.

She touched a picture. Immediately it expanded to fill the screen. It showed a beautiful young woman with an expansive halo of black hair, dramatically erect and full breasts, and a confident expression. The text said: NAME: Milda. SEX:

Female. AGE: 23 Earth Years. EMPLOYER: Citizen Bliven.

ASSIGNMENT: On Call.

Agape read no further. No wonder the woman was beautiful; she was the Citizen’s mistress! She was apt to be an easy mark for an amorous serf, because Citizen sex, by most accounts, was demanding and not particularly pleasant for the serf, male or female. The Citizen had to be pleased, at all costs; the penalty for failure was to be fired, and that was bad news on Proton. Thus if a man came who sought sex on an equal basis, the woman should be nattered. She touched the picture again, and it condensed back to its prior place, surrounded by others. Agape touched a new one. This showed a relatively homely woman. There was nothing wrong with her appearance; she just was not anything a man would choose to pursue. This one might therefore diminish the male actor’s ardor.

Agape realized immediately that her notion was flawed. Suppose a handsome man pursued and flattered such a woman? Unaccustomed to such attention, she might welcome it, and do whatever the man asked in an effort to please him. Agape, as the player, could tell her no, but that might not carry much weight, being contrary to her natural inclinations. She touched the picture again, and it diminished. The third picture seemed about right: a pretty but slightly older woman with brown hair and brown eyes. She would surely be quite fetching when she smiled, and less attractive otherwise. The legend said: NAME: Deerie. SEX: Female. AGE: 30 Earth Years. EMPLOYER: Citizen Tosme. AS SIGNMENT: Foot Massager. INTELLIGENCE: 1.15. CREATIVITY: .95 STABILITY: 1.21.

Agape nodded. This looked very good. Deerie was old enough to know her mind, especially with a stability quotient twenty-one per cent above the norm. She had a simple menial job which might be a cover for “on call” and probably would accede to whatever demand the Citizen might make, but would be no easy mark for anyone else. Female serfs did not even count Citizen seductions as sex; it was just an involuntary necessity. This was a reasonably smart, unimaginative woman perhaps halfway through her Proton tenure; she would want to get all the way through without problems, and take her pay to her home world. Serfs who made it through could retire quite comfortably elsewhere; the system made it worth their while to undergo this servitude.

But how would this one be if she had to seduce a strange man? Here that lower creativity score should help: she would accept Agape’s bright notions as her own, not thinking to question them or to develop other options. Would her age count against her in this respect? Perhaps not, for she pos sessed quite comely features and was well proportioned throughout. Probably she exercised, because she looked physically fit. That could help if it came to violence—as, unfortunately, it could.

Agape touched SELECT. She would take Deerie as her actress. Citizen Tan, naturally, had long since chosen. “Go to the two privacy booths indicated,” the Game Computer said. A line appeared on the floor, leading away. She followed her line, glad that it did not go in the same direction as Citizen Tan’s line. At least she would be away from him physically.

The line led to a glassed-in booth. She entered and closed the door. There was a comfortable chair. That was all. She sat in the chair. Immediately the wall before it became a picture: the Commons, the region of relaxation for serfs when they were not working for their Citizens. It had many couches and beds, food machines, pools, and screens on which recorded entertainments could be evoked. It was a pleasant place; she had visited it many times with Bane, and many more times without him, during his absences in Phaze. She had brought Nepe here, in the early years before Nepe disappeared; the child had proved to be precocious with the entertainments. The rule was that serfs were free to do what ever they wished, here, provided it did not directly interfere with the pleasures of others. They could indeed indulge in sexual activity here, in full view; those who did not want to watch were free to look elsewhere. Thus this was the proper setting for a game such as this.

“Your opponent has the onus,” the Game Computer said. “He has therefore been advised of the identity of your actress. Speak cautiously; from this moment all that you say will be conveyed to your actress as soundless thought.”

“But—“ Agape started.

The picture on the wall jumped, as if someone had reacted. Agape realized that her word had been relayed, and that Deerie had heard in her mind But—! Naturally she had jumped; she didn’t understand why such a thought had come into her head.

She kept quiet and watched, and after a moment Deerie resumed her motion. Agape realized that the wall-picture she saw was what the actress saw; it moved as her vision did. How this effect was achieved Agape wasn’t certain; she had never played this particular game before and never explored this effect. Perhaps cameras on the woman relayed their pic tures, and the Game Computer assembled these into a holo graphic image that duplicated what the woman should be seeing. For it was three-dimensional; it seemed that the wall was glass, and that she was seeing through it into the Com mons.

Deerie walked past a mirror, and glanced a moment at her reflection. Agape caught a glimpse of the woman of the picture. The hair was longer now, and the breasts drooped somewhat; how long ago had that picture been taken? But the woman was moving on before Agape could assess the situation fully.

“No!” she said. “Stay and look a moment longer.” The image turned, as the actress responded. She faced back and approached the mirror again.

Agape had spoken involuntarily, but realized that the woman had taken it as her own thought. It was amazing how well this worked! But it would be better to provide a rationale, so that Deerie would not get suspicious. “I haven’t really looked at myself in some time,” Agape said. “I would like to reassure myself that I still look respectable.”

The woman stood before the mirror. She straightened her back and inhaled. Now her breasts lifted, becoming erect and prominent, and her belly flattened. Yes, she had a good figure; the years had not yet eroded it. “Yes, that’s nice,” Agape said. “I should maintain a better posture, so as to show my self off to advantage; there is no point in slouching and having others think I am getting old.”

Agape’s eye was caught by a brightening light to the side. She looked, and realized that the border around the wall picture contained a series of panels that glowed gently. The brightening one had letters formed by shading: PRIDE. Deerie was experiencing the emotion of pride! That was how the player knew the emotions of the actor; by watching the panels glow.

“Yes, I am glad I paused to take stock of myself,” Agape said. “I am reassured.”

Deerie lifted her hand to her hair. The brown tresses were pinned back by a comb. She lifted this out and used it to comb out her hair. Because serfs had no clothes, they had no pockets; unless a woman wanted to carry a purse, which was a nuisance on Proton, she had few ways to keep articles with her. Thus the double-duty comb was common. Deerie formed her hair into gentle inward curls about her shoulders, so that the outline of her face was softened. “Yes, I look better,” Agape said. She was becoming comfortable with this mode of communication, and was developing a certain rapport with her actress.