Piers Anthony - Out of Phaze

“Will that work?”

“We shall find out.” She adjusted the buttons on the panel, then settled back. The vehicle kept moving.

“Oh, Agape, I wish I had met thy like in Phaze!” he exclaimed, leaning over to kiss her. This time the experience was intensely rewarding.

In moments she was out of her suit and hugging him hungrily. But the seat restraints would not release their lower extremities while the vehicle was moving, and threatened to confine their upper portions too whenever there was a bump. This severely limited the action.

“I will deactivate the restraints,” Agape said, touching the panel again.

“Serf Mach and/or serf Agape,” the speaker said, startling them both. “Vehicle safety restraints have been deactivated. This indicates conscious activity. Acknowledge status immediately.”

“Canst silence it?” Bane asked.

“Serf Mach return immediately to base at—“ the speaker said, cutting off as she touched another button.

“What should I do now?” Agape asked.

“Come join me in my seat—no, I’ll join thee in thine—“ Bane hesitated, finding neither location suitable. Each place was made for one person; there really was not room for two, especially not for this type of activity. They needed more space.

“In my natural state, there are no such problems,” Agape said. “But of course our forms are not fixed.”

“Don’t change thy form!” Bane cried. ‘There has to be a way!”

They tried for some time to find a way, but the confines of the vehicle were simply too restricted. Kissing and some handling were all they could manage.

Then there was a crash. Both were thrown against the front panel. The vehicle tilted and tumbled. It came to rest abruptly, and the smell of the polluted air outside came in.

“Dome’s cracked!” Agape exclaimed, scrambling desperately back into her suit.

“We watched not, and we hit something,” Bane said, chagrined.

They forced up the canopy and climbed out. The headlamp shone off at an angle, but the beam of light was enough.

‘The Lattice!” Bane cried. “I forgot the Lattice!”

‘This is an interruption in the terrain?”

“Worse than that! It be a pattern of cracks in the ground, very deep. Demons lurk in their depths. Only a unicorn can cross it without falling in, and not all of them. I forgot that the same pattern exists in Proton, only without the demons. We be lucky we crashed in the shallow part of it!”

Agape leaned into the vehicle and caused the map to appear. “Yes, it is there—LATTICE,” she said. “I should have checked for hazards of terrain. Now I see why the vehicle traveled in a curve going north.”

“We’ll have to go around,” Bane said.

“I fear not, Bane. The wheel is broken, and we have not the means to repair it. We shall have to walk.”

“Around the Lattice? That would take forever!”

“Will your other self cross it? How will he do it?”

“He would have to skirt it to the south,” Bane said. “But I want him not to do that, because the demons watch the path. They’ll come out and grab him. I need to intercept him before he gets here.”

‘Then won’t the demons grab you?” she asked, alarmed.

“Me? Hardly! I would float them into the river. But Mach won’t know magic; it takes years to learn to do it properly, and only a few even have the talent. He may not.”

“Then I suppose we had better walk,” she said.

“Will help come for thee, if thou dost ask for it in the vehicle? Thou couldst wait there, out of danger, while I go on.”

“The cracking of the canopy would have caused an automatic distress signal to be launched,” she said. ‘They will be on the way already.”

‘Then I’ll get caught!” he said. “I must get going!”

“I will come with you,” she said. “There may still be some assistance I can lend.”

Bane doubted this, but liked her company, so he agreed. At the same time he felt guilty, because he had made her a promise he was unable to keep. She was likely to pay heavily for her involvement with him. He wished again that he didn’t have to leave her.

They walked, skirting the network of cracks, still homing in on the other self. Bane now judged it to be in the region of the crater; evidently Mach had taken the wrong path, but somehow made it through the swamp to relative safety. But there was no way out of the crater except back through the swamp, and if he tried that path again, the monsters would be twice as ferocious as before. Bane had to intercept him and make the exchange before Mach started moving again.

Something glittered in the air. “Oh, no,” Bane said. “A night dragon!”

“Or a flying machine,” Agape said. “I fear they have discovered us.”

“We must hide!”

“We cannot; it is my suit and the metal in your body they orient on. Oh, Bane, I am sorry you were not able to complete your quest.”

Bane took her suited form in his arms, unspeaking He discovered that he was not as sorry as he thought he should have been. They waited for the flying machine to capture them.

6 - Revelations

Evidently the news had spread among monsters that Mach was a creature to be reckoned with, for no others threatened them on the path through the swamp. They returned to the glade where he had left the clothes, but the clothes were gone. ‘The pigheads,” Fleta muttered. “They root for aught not held by spell.”

So he would have to continue with his makeshift outfit. Mach shrugged. After the amount of effort he had put into it, he might as well use it!

“Now this path bears south,” Fleta said, indicating the one he had left before. “But it leads to the Herd Demesnes, and once in that open country, we can trek north as far as the Lattice.” She glanced sidelong at him. “Mayhap we can get a unicorn to carry thee.”

“I’ve already been carried by a unicorn!” Mach exclaimed. “Look where it got me!”

“Aye, then shall we walk,” she said, somewhat wearily. “Never fear, we shall see thee safely to the Blue Demesnes.”

They walked the path. It was pleasant enough, now that they were clear of the swamp. The great trees leaned over to spread their shade graciously, and the ferns seemed to keep the ground clean.

Fleta paused to sniff the air in the fashion of an animal. “Methinks I smell aught foul,” she remarked. “Best we not pause.”

The path followed a ridge, then curved to the east and dropped down to a stream. Mach was ready to wade through, but Fleta held him back. “Not this one; there be poison in it. We must touch not the water.”

“But it is too broad to jump over,” he said.

“There be a ladder of rope. We merely pull it across and tie it in place.” She pointed, and there across the stream was a thick coil of ropes.

“How do we pull it, without first crossing?”

“There be a string.” She reached up near a branch, her fingers questing for it. Then she stamped her foot with sudden anger. “It be not here!”

There was a raucous cackle from the bushes at the far side. “Thou dost bet it be not there, nymph!” a voice cried.

“Methought I winded garbage!” Fleta snapped.

“Smile when you say that, cutie-pie!” the other responded. “Thou’rt in Harpy Demesnes!” And the speakerl came into view: a gross, filthy creature, with a woman’s head and bosom, and a vulture’s wings and tail and legs. The odor became stronger.

“And thou’rt in ‘corn Demesnes!” Fleta retorted. “Didst mess with the ladder? Thou knowest that is not to be, by the pact ‘tween species!”

“What dost the like of thee know of any pact?” the harpy demanded. “Dost think canst trot thy stud past Harpy Demesnes w’ impunity? Stay, filly, an we’ll goose thee across in our own fashion, after our sport with the other.”