Piers Anthony - Phaze Doubt

“But if you love me, won’t you join my side? Maybe that’s what the Adepts want.”

“If you love me, will you join the Hectare?”

“I can’t do that!” she protested. “My world is my nature! All that I am, even the metal and plastic—I can not be untrue to that!”

“You have answered yourself,” he pointed out. “I am Hectare. I must serve my species.”

“If I do not kill you, you will betray our last source of resistance to the enemy?”

“Yes. That is my mission.”

“You can’t want to do that! You would not have told me, if—“

“I don’t want to do it, any more than you want to love your home world. It is in my nature to do it. Can you love me, knowing my nature and my mission?”

“If I see you about to betray my world, I will try to stop you,” she said.

“Is that an answer?”

“I do love you, despite what you have told me. I will not tell anyone, I will only try to stop you, and die if I fail.”

“You have no call to keep my secret. You should at least tell the Adepts.”

“I think they know. It makes it certain that you are the one the prophecy means. So I must believe that I am helping my world by keeping silent.”

Lysander found himself both surprised and unsurprised. If the Adepts truly believed the prophecy, then he could indeed be the one—because of what he was. Yet it had to require a great deal of faith on her part to trust in that. “Now we know we are enemies, or that we serve opposite sides. Can we still love each other?”

She stood, gesturing him to do the same, and took his hands in hers. “I will answer, and so will you, together. Then we will know.”

“But—“

“Speak only your true feeling, as I speak mine. Are you ready?”

He nodded, not sure what she thought this was going to accomplish.

She squeezed his hands. “When I squeeze again, we’ll speak.”

Then she squeezed. “Yes,” they said together.

Something strange happened then. A ripple seemed to go out from them, causing the air to shimmer, and the walls of the cave. It was as if the color of reality shifted, though color wasn’t quite it. But he didn’t care. He drew her into him and embraced her. He didn’t care how it had come about; his love for her was real and complete.

She melted into him, as passionate as he. “So it is true,” she breathed in his ear.

“I don’t understand.”

“You saw the splash?”

“Do you mean the ripple in the air?”

“That was the splash of truth. It comes only when the emotion is true and strong, and only once for a situation. We spoke our love, and it is true, though we are in Proton form. Phaze is here too, and it manifests. I love you and you love me; there is no doubt.”

He found he had to believe. “Then stay with me, and when I do what I have to do, you do what you have to do.”

“Yes. But until then, let it be only love between us.”

He was satisfied with that.

It seemed a moment later that there was a scratching at the entrance, above. “They are opening the door,” Echo said. “I must see what they want.”

Lysander looked at his watch. “Five days have passed,” he said, startled. “It must be time for us to come out.”

She used the root-handholds to hoist herself up. He followed. Soon they were beside the tree. A harpy with a horrendous explosion of hair and feathers about her head hovered near. “Take thy paramour to the Brown Demesnes,” she screeched. “The Unicorn Adept has need o’ him.”

“Thank you, Phoebe,” Echo said.

“Ne’er thank a harpy, slut!” the creature screeched. But Lysander had the impression she was pleased.

“We’ll dress and start walking. I suppose you know how it stands between us now.”

“Aye, Oche! We spied the splash. Then we dispersed our guard.”

“I thought you would. Warn us if dragons come.”

“Aye!” The harpy flapped heavily away.

“Who was that?” Lysander asked.

“The chief hen of our Flock, Phoebe. She befriended the Robot Adept long ago, before I was hatched. She speaks for him.”

“Then we’d better go to the Brown Demesnes! I hope you know the way.”

“I do. It will be a fair walk, but we’ll be helped if we need it,” She climbed back into the tree and disappeared, going for the clothes.

Soon they were on their way, garbed in belted robes and sandals. The jungle looked wild, but Echo knew the paths. When on occasion she was uncertain, she changed to harpy form and flew high, spying out the way. The first time he had seen her in that form he had thought her ugly; now it didn’t bother him, though he preferred her cyborg form. During the whole five days of their time in the love nest, he had hardly remembered that her body was inanimate; it had seemed completely alive. That love potion had been strong stuff!

They passed an open range. On the horizon he could see animals grazing: unicorns, surely. Once a huge shape appeared in the sky; Echo drew him quickly under cover. “Dragon,” she explained. “We’ll be protected, but we don’t want to cause a commotion.”

He was in good physical condition, but Echo was indefatigable. That was the advantage of a robot body. By the day’s end he was glad to rest.

She opened a breast cabinet and brought out food for him. She was able to eat, but didn’t bother. There was no shelter here, and the chill of the night was settling in, but this turned out to be no problem. They simply removed their robes, spread them as blankets on the ground, and lay between them. Echo’s body turned warm, like a gentle stove, and drove away the chill.

“I am coming to appreciate your qualities,” he murmured, caressing her.

“Had we had more time, we could have done this before the love,” she said. “But better in reverse order than not at all.” Then she embraced him. “However, now that I mention love—“

He tried to remind himself that her body was inanimate, but it was no good. She was all the way alive for him. Evidently he was all the way human for her, similarly. Their knowledge of each other changed nothing.

He was sorry he would have to betray this wonderful dual culture. But he knew he would do it, when the occasion came.

Next day, as they continued their walk toward the southeast, a figure abruptly appeared before them. It was Flach, the Unicorn Adept. “I need him now,” he said to Echo. “I thank thee, Echo, for thy service.”

“May I not remain with him?” she asked, alarmed.

The boy smiled. “It were unkind to deny thee, considering. Make thy way alone to the Brown Demesnes and watch; an thou see a woman emerge, take human form and go with her. We shall rejoin thee in due course.”

“Thank you, Adept,” she said. Then, quickly, she kissed Lysander. As the kiss ended, she became the harpy, and flew into the foliage of the nearest great tree.

The boy faced Lysander, and his small face was disturbingly serious. “Thou has fathomed that we know thy nature,” he said. “We like thee not, Hectare, but there be none but thee to give us victory, an thou choose. An thou not cooperate completely with me, thou willst ne’er get close to our plot, so it behooves thee to make thy move not early.”

So they had indeed known! “And if you nullify me early, your prophecy will be invalidated before it has a chance,” he replied. “Even if you can’t trust your love spell to change my mind.”

“Aye. So we fathom each other. We work together, until the moment.”

“Until the moment,” Lysander agreed.

“Now will I conjure thee to the Brown Demesnes, and make thee invisible. Keep thy silence, whate’er thou dost see.”

“Agreed.” It was an interesting situation: he was an enemy agent, and they knew it, and he knew they knew, but it changed nothing. It was analogous in its way to his love with Echo: the facts simply did not affect the situation.