Piers Anthony - Out of Phaze

‘Thou dost have thy uses,” Bane said. “With powers like that, what use dost thou have for this Proton society?”

“My kind has individual abilities, but not technological ones,” she said. “We need to learn, so that we do not remain a backplanet species.”

“Methinks I prefer this backplanet,” he remarked.

“I was speaking for my species, not necessarily myself.”

Under his direction, she cut off branches and topped it, forming a long pole. Bane hefted it with satisfaction. “A sword would be better, but this be enough for now.”

There was a stir from the side. Bane whirled about. “Mayhap none too soon!” he muttered.

It was no false alarm. A stocky goblin was approaching. The goblin had a small sword, and he waved it menacingly. “I’ll destroy you, miscreant!” it cried.

“Goblins use not swords,” Bane muttered. “Unless disciplined into an army, and they be more likely to hurt each other than the enemy. And they talk not of destruction; they just attack.”

“It’s the Citizen—using a remote-controlled robot,” Agape said. “Don’t let it get too close.”

“Scant danger of that!” Bane agreed. “Do thou get behind me, so it can attack thee not.” He faced the goblin, his staff ready. He had not used a staff in some time, but his father had required him to train in a number of hand weapons, and he knew how to use it effectively. Normally goblins came in hordes, making them formidable; a single one was not much of a threat.

The goblin simply charged in, swinging his sword. Bane sidestepped it and clubbed the creature’s arm, jarring free the weapon. It fell to the ground.

“Nicely done,” the goblin said in the voice of the Citizen. “Perhaps this will be a pleasant challenge after all.” It stooped to recover the sword.

Bane rammed the goblin in the head with the end of his staff. He intended only to knock it down, knowing that a goblin’s big head was the least vulnerable part of its body and could hardly be hurt by any blow. But the staff stove in the side of the head. Sparks crackled, and the goblin collapsed.

“Ooo, you killed it!” Agape exclaimed. “That is, you put it out of commission.”

“So that was the first challenge,” Bane said, surprised. “A real goblin would die not so readily.” He picked up the goblin’s sword. It was small, but of sturdy steel: a good weapon. “And this be a spoil of war, methinks.”

“But there will be other threats,” Agape reminded him.

“Aye. And if I understand rightly, of different types; we be through with goblins.”

“Let’s get somewhere else,” Agape said nervously.

He found a vine and cut it to length and formed it into a crude belt. From this he hung the sword, so that he didn’t need to carry it in his hand.

They moved on, climbing the slope of the mountain. Its general contour seemed familiar, but he realized that it could be the same mountain in Proton as the one he had known in Phaze, covered by one of the scientific domes and provided with fresh air and planted, so as to duplicate the original more closely. The Citizen had good taste in landscape!

But soon there was another sound, this time from the air. They peered up between the trees and saw a gross bird-shape. “A harpy!” Bane exclaimed.

“Is that worse than a goblin?”

“Depends. True harpies have poisoned talons and can move them very quickly in close quarters. But a robot harpy may be clumsy.”

“I hope so.”

“Clever blow, last time,” the Citizen’s voice came from the harpy. “But you’ll not catch me again that way.”

Bane backed under the canopy of a tree. “Get beyond the trunk,” he told Agape. “If it flies at you, just circle around the tree, staying clear.”

“But what about you?”

“I want not to flee it, but to kill it.”

“But—“

“Move, woman!”

She moved. The harpy oriented and swung low; then it folded its wings and dived down at him.

Bane stepped aside, as he had before, and the harpy swerved. But this time he had stepped to the other side, and the Citizen had been geared for the first side. Thus the harpy missed completely—but Bane’s staff didn’t. It caught the harpy on the back, knocking it down and out of control. It plowed into the ground. Bane rammed it in the side of the head, as he had the goblin, with the same result: sparks and cessation.

“Methinks I like this game,” he said, smiling.

“Bane, I don’t like it,” Agape said. “I fear the Citizen is only toying with you. There is something—“

“Something? What?”

“I don’t know. Something that doesn’t quite match. It scares me. Let’s get far from here.”

Bane thought her concern was exaggerated, but it made sense to keep the Citizen guessing about their location. It was possible that these were indeed simple ploys, intended only to feel out Bane’s defenses. Once the Citizen knew his opponent better, he might send in something more formidable.

They cut to the south (assuming the orientation of this mountain was as it was in Phaze), traveling at right angles to their former route. The forest was thick here, and they were careful not to scuff the ground. It would not be easy to spot them; probably the Citizen would have to do some searching. Bane intended to see just how good a searcher the man was, in a robot body.

There was a noise to the side, but not a threat. It was a brown deer bounding away, its white tail flashing. It paused, glancing back, then ran on out of sight.

“Stocked with real wilderness animals!” Agape exclaimed, delighted.

“Mayhap I can kill one and have it for food,” Bane said.

“Kill a deer?” she asked, horrified. “How could you!”

Suddenly there was a roar right ahead. A demon leaped at them. Agape screamed and fled; Bane whipped his staff up and caught the creature in the belly, shoving it back.

“Surprised you, didn’t I!” the Citizen’s voice came from the toothy maw of the monster. Then it lurched right over the staff, those teeth coming for Bane’s face.

Bane snatched the goblin sword from its mooring with his left hand. He drove the point at the demon’s gaping mouth. The blade went in, puncturing the back of the mouth. Again there was a crackle, and the monster became nonfunctional.

Bane pulled out the sword and replaced it in his belt. “Aye, this be an easy game.”

“But don’t you see,” Agape said. “Each time you kill one, another comes. And they seem to know where we are! The Citizen must be able to see us, before he animates a robot!”

“What wouldst thou have me do?” Bane asked, irritated. “Not kill a monster?”

“Maybe that would be best,” she said.

“Let it kill me instead?” he demanded acidly.

“No, Bane. Just—avoid it for a while. So that no new one can come. Better to retain the known danger, than to bring on an unknown one. After all, there’s a lot of time—a whole week, and—“

“Flee from a goblin or a harpy I could readily kill? What kind of man would folk take me for then?”

“A sensible one!” she flared.

“It be not sensible to leave an enemy creature on my tail!”

“But Bane, don’t you see, there are things we don’t understand—“

“I understand well enough!” he retorted. ‘Thou dost not like to hurt robots!”

“That’s not true! It’s just that—“

“Get away from me, woman!” he cried. “I need not counsel of the like of this!”

“Well, if you feel that way—!”

“Aye. Go thine own way, and let me be.”

She gazed at him for a moment, then turned and walked away. Bane watched her go, furious at her betrayal, then struck for higher ground. He wanted to get where he could look about, to see whether there was something watching him, such as one of the magic screens.