Piers Anthony - Out of Phaze

The dragon, hurt, vented a horrendous cloud of steam, then charged back into the fray. So sudden was the thrust that Mach didn’t have time to swing the cumbersome pole back into position. The dragon bit at it sidewise and chomped it in two.

Mach drew his axe. Suddenly he was worried; he hadn’t wanted to resort to this, because of the close contact required. But apparently the dragon had forgotten to use the steam, and just charged in with jaws gaping.

Mach stepped aside, and bashed his axe violently down on the dragon’s nose as the jaws closed on the spot he had occupied. The stone blade sank into the right nostril, hacking through the flesh. Blood welled out.

But Mach was now on uncertain footing, and his step and blow had put him off balance. He took another step—and found no path. He splashed headlong into the water.

The dragon was thrashing, really hurt by the blow to its nose, but it remained alert enough to spot the sudden opportunity. It whipped its snout about to pluck Mach out of the water. Fleta screamed.

Without purchase on the path, Mach could not strike another blow, or even escape. He was helpless before those descending teeth.

“Without aplomb, bring me a bomb!” he sang with sudden inspiration.

Fog swirled. The bomb appeared in his hand. He heaved it into the opening mouth. In a moment it detonated.

The dragon paused, closing its mouth. Vapor seeped out between its teeth. Mach realized that he had again failed to conjure what he really wanted; the bomb had been a dud, or at least too small and weak to do the job. The one he had imagined would have blown the monster’s head apart.

The dragon lifted its head. Thick vapor jetted from its uninjured nostril. Its near eye bulged. The bomb had not really hurt it, but evidently the vapor bothered it. Mach remained in the water, watching.

Then he caught a whiff of the vapor. It was insect destructant! He knew the smell from the times he had visited one of the garden domes in Proton, where they had occasional insect infestations, and flooded the domes with this vapor. It was supposed to be harmless to larger creatures, but human beings tried to avoid breathing it.

Instead of a real bomb, he had gotten a bug-bomb. Now it was spewing its noxious vapor into the dragon’s mouth—and the dragon didn’t have the wit to spit it out!

In a moment the dragon plunged under the water, but a trail of evil-smelling bubbles showed that the monster still hadn’t let go of the bomb. Mach smiled as he clambered back to the path. His bomb had done the job after all!

“Oh, Mach, I feared for thee!” Fleta exclaimed, coming into his arms as he stood. She kissed him, then drew back. “Oh, I should have done that not!”

“Why not?”

“I think I like thee too well.”

“But you won’t tell me why that’s wrong?”

“Aye,” she agreed with a rueful smile.

“You’re stubborn!”

“My kind be that.”

“Well, I like you too,” he said. “I think you’re a great girl, and I wish—“ But he had to break off. What did he wish? That he could stay with her? That he could take her with him to Proton? Neither was possible, as far as he knew.

She drew away. “I was minded to—to do what I had to to save thee, but it happened so suddenly, and then thou didst vanquish the dragon alone. Thou art a hero, Mach!”

“Well, I wasn’t going to let it eat you,” he said.

“Yes, thou didst urge me to safety, whilst thou fought. No man of Phaze would have done that for my like, except perhaps the Blue Adept, and that be different.”

The Blue Adept. Mach’s father had been that before transferring to Proton, where his magic didn’t work. She referred to the other one, of course. But the two were alternate selves, and yes, either would have done the same to save a damsel in distress.

“We must go on, before more come,” she said.

“There are more water dragons?” he asked, alarmed.

“Many more,” she agreed.

He hurried after her, anxious to depart this swamp.

5 - Search

Bane stared. The landscape was absolutely barren. There were no trees, no bushes, no plants at all. There was only dry sand and grayish mist as far as he could see. It was dusk, but he realized that even by full daylight he would not have seen much more.

‘The country—where be it?” he asked, horrified.

‘This is the country, Bane,” Agape said through speaker-grille in her helmet.

“But it can’t be! There be no life here!”

‘There is no life on Proton,” she said. “Except with the domes. Did you not know?”

“I—I thought it would be like Phaze, only less so,” he admitted. ‘This—how did it happen?”

“I do not know much about the history of this planet, but I believe it was once alive. But the residents paid no heed to the quality of its environment, and so gradually it became as it is now, with good air and life in the dome-cities, and bad air outside. It is not this way where you live?”

“It be all sunshine and forest and meadows where the unicorns graze and rivers and magic,” Bane said. “Oh, what a horror be here!”

“But that means that the one you seek is comfortable, for he is there,” she pointed out. “You can seek him as you intended.”

“But—this,” he said, baffled by the desolation.

“We can walk, or perhaps ride.”

“Ride? There be no animals here!”

‘There are vehicles. I think serfs are permitted to utilize them.”

“Vehicles?”

“I do not know the specifics, but I am sure some are near, for the residents of the domes do not like to walk far outside. Let us look.”

Bane let her take the lead. She moved around the curve of the building they had just exited, and there was an alcove with several squat shapes within. She trudged to one and lifted its glassy upper section. Inside there were two deep holes. She climbed into one. ‘This will do,” she said. ‘Take the other seat, Bane. I think I can drive this.”

He climbed into the other hole. The transparent top settled down, shutting them in. Then there was a hissing, and gas swirled up. He tried to scramble out, but Agape restrained him. “It is not evil, Bane! It is air, so I can breathe without the helmet. When the light shows green, it will be all right.”

And in a moment a green light appeared before them, on a panel in the vehicle. Agape removed her helmet. “It will not release until I reseal my suit,” she said. ‘The gas out here would be harmful to my metabolism.”

“But I want not to stay in here!” he protested. “I want to look for mine other self!”

She smiled. “I think it is good that I am with you. I will make this machine perform.” She touched buttons before her, and took hold of a handle, bringing it out and down toward her.

Suddenly the vehicle lurched forward. Bane almost leaped out of his seat, but this time padded straps appeared and restrained him.

He peered out the forward glass. The terrain was coming toward him, as though he were riding a horse. “This—this be a wagon!” he exclaimed. “It moves by itself!”

“Yes, it is a machine, like your body, but not as intelligent as yours.”

“A machine,” he repeated, assimilating the concept. “Like a golem, or an enchanted object.”

“I think your world is as alien to this one as is mine,” she said.

“My world is natural. This be the alien one.”

“With that, too, I can agree.” She glanced at him. “Where would you travel, Bane?”

“I—I hadn’t thought. I mean, I had expected to circle in the forest, seeking to intercept mine other self. But now I know not.”

“The forest remains there, for him,” she reminded him. “I can circle if you wish.” And she guided the vehicle into a broad loop.