Piers Anthony - Out of Phaze

“Funny thing,” Bane murmured. “The Citizen we fight corresponds to the Purple Adept of Phaze. But the one who captured us was the White Adept.”

“I think the Citizens are collaborating,” Agape said.

“If the correspondence be accurate, White and Purple both be enemies of Blue.”

“It seems accurate.” They returned to the earthen fortress and settled down for the night.

“The Citizen can attack any time,” Bane said. “We’ll have to keep careful watch.”

“I’ll watch while you sleep,” she said. ‘Then you can watch while—“

Bane smiled. “Thou dost forget my present body. It does not need to sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

She laughed. “I did forget! You seem so human to me.”

“I am human. It be just my body that is machine.”

“Then I will sleep. But wake me, if—“

“How do I wake thee? When I tried before—“

“Tap this code on my surface,” she said. She took his hand and tapped it in an intricate pattern, “That is the alert-code for my species; I will respond immediately.”

He rehearsed the code, making sure of it. Then she formed a basin in the ground and lay down.

“Dost thou not get dirty?” he asked as she began to melt.

Her face was dissolving, but the mouth remained. It spoke. “No, my skin rejects it, just as it does the dust.” Then the mouth disappeared into the coalescing central mass. She became a dark pool in the basin.

Bane kept watch. He discovered that though he did not require sleep, his consciousness did require some down-time to assimilate and properly organize the events of the day. Otherwise his awareness would become chaos.

So, while he watched, he also dreamed, in his fashion. It was pleasant enough.

In the morning he tapped Agape’s surface in the code pattern, and she stirred. The protoplasm rippled and humped and shaped itself into the human mannequin; then the features clarified and the hair grew out. Bane watched, interested, then startled; then he smiled. “Good morning, Bane,” she said.

‘Thy hair be blue,” he said.

She lifted a strand between her fingers, bringing it around so that she could see it. “Oops!” Her hair dissolved back into her head, then regrew with its normal reddish color.

“But methinks I liked the blue better,” Bane said. She stared at him a moment, then laughed. “When you are serious about that, tell me. I can be any appearance you want.”

They found some more fruit, and an edible root. It wasn’t much of a breakfast, but it served. “Actually, I can assimilate cellulose,” Agape said. “It takes a little longer, but there is no need for me to take food you could consume. In fact, I might be able to predigest some for you, so that—“

“Nay, this body needs food not,” he reminded her. She laughed ruefully. “I keep forgetting! You seem so—so alive!”

“I be alive,” Bane said. But he knew what she meant. Were he in living flesh, he would be required to eat. The notion of consuming her predigested food bothered him, but he realized that there was no sense in being repelled by the notion; what was honey, but pollen that had been predigested by insects? “We should be seeing the Citizen soon.”

“As he finishes his breakfast and gets ready for his day’s entertainment,” she agreed.

They had called it correctly. The Citizen manifested—in the form of a small flying machine. “A toy airplane!” Agape exclaimed.

“I mistrust the Citizen’s toys,” Bane said.

The airplane looped in the sky, then oriented unerringly on Bane and dived down.

Bane saw it coming and scooted around behind a tree. A dart thunked into the trunk; the plane had fired at him.

“Like a man with a bow—only this time it flies,” Agape said.

Bane ran for the cover of a different tree as the plane sailed up in the sky and looped around again. He picked up a pair of stones.

The plane was not in sight, but they could hear it as it circled. Then it came down, flying directly at Bane’s present hiding place, on the side that he stood. “Circle the tree!” Agape screamed.

He did so with alacrity. Another dart struck, and the plane climbed back into the sky.

“How does he know where I be?” Bane asked. “I couldn’t see it, so it couldn’t see me—yet came it right at me.”

“There must be a sensing device on you,” she said, running after him as he went for another tree.

“Like a spell of location?”

“I think so. Maybe if you take off the sword—“

Bane threw down the sword and ran for another tree. The plane came down and planted another dart in that trunk as Bane dived clear.

Then it came to him. “The finger!” he cried.

“The what?”

“The Citizen fixed my chewed finger! That be where it be!”

“Of course!” she agreed. “But in that case—“

Bane lifted his finger to his mouth and bit it off. The pseudoflesh and pseudobone resisted his efforts, but he kept chewing until it was free. He hurled it away from him.

The plane came down and fired a dart into the ground near the fallen finger. “That confirms it!” Agape cried. “Get away from that finger, and he’ll never find us!”

But Bane had another notion. “That flyer can cast about and mayhap spot us anytime; I want to trap it, alive.”

“Bane, you can’t—“

“Follow me!” He ran across and swooped up the finger. “I’m going to the cave. Tell me when the plane be coming at me.”

‘The cave! But the plane is small enough to fly in there too!”

“Aye.”

“Bane, this is crazy! It will follow you and trap you in there!”

He kept running, and she had to follow. They zigzagged down the slope toward the cave.

“It’s orienting!” Agape cried.

Bane dodged to the side without stopping. In a moment a dart struck the ground near his prior course. The plane passed on by and ascended. Apparently it was only able to fire once on a pass, and it was doing so from too far away to compensate for his last-moment maneuvers.

They reached the entrance to the cave. “Bane, you can’t!” Agape cried. “You can’t take the finger deep enough to lead the plane in, and still get out yourself— and the plane will come out the moment it discovers that it’s only the finger, anyway!”

“Not if I throw the finger into the water, and then bash out that weak section so the roof falls down, trapping it inside.”

“No!” she cried. ‘The collapse will be behind the wall; I felt the nature of the stresses. You will be trapped too!”

The plane was coming in again. “I’ll take that chance!”

“No, I’ll take it!” she said, grasping the finger. “I can get out through the river channel; you can’t.” She hurried into the cave.

He let her go. It was too late to stop her without getting caught by the plane—and he realized that she was right. She could melt and climb in a way that he could not. He scrambled for cover outside the cave.

The plane came down, aiming for the cave. It slowed as its sensors showed the nature of the terrain. But its sensors also told it that the target was in the cave, and could not be reached from outside it, so it followed.

Bane watched as the small craft corrected course and flew inside. He realized that the Citizen was guiding it, and had to be very careful here, lest he crash it before reaching his target. But the plane could not travel too slowly, lest it drop to the ground. It had to get in there and score; then it wouldn’t matter what happened to it, because the game would be over.

Had Agape had enough time to reach the water and throw the finger in? Would their trap work if she sprang it? Now his doubts loomed grotesquely large. How could he have let her take that risk in his place? She was such a good, caring, self-sacrificing creature! Probably if he had occupied his natural body, whose emotions were not under control the way those of the machine were, he would not have let her do it. He hadn’t even shown her what he had promised—and if she got caught in the collapse of the cave-roof, he would never have the chance, because she would be not merely Game-dead, but all-the-way dead.