Out of Phaze

He hadn’t thought of that. In immediate retrospect it was obvious. He had blundered, but it was too late to take it back. The second grid was already on the screen.

“You choose,” he told her, knowing that her limited experience was more comprehensive than his own.

“I will go with you,” she said, touching 8. COOPERATIVE. “And maybe slopes are best.” She touched F, which covered FIRE or VARIABLE SURFACE.

“And I have chosen 2C6H,” the Citizen said. “Machine-assisted intellectual interactive general-format.”

Bane was baffled by the description. “What meaneth that?”

The Citizen gestured toward the door beside the pedestal. “Enter the Game and find out, apprentice. You and your alien friend are a naked team. If you suffer a Game-death, you lose.”

Bane shrugged. He went to the door, and Agape followed him. It was an opaque panel that fogged at his touch. They stepped through.

They were in mountains. Ahead was a thickly wooded slope. The peak of the mountain had a purple hue.

‘The Purple Mountain range!” Bane exclaimed. His confidence increased. He knew this range; he had crossed it several times, by magic and by foot, sometimes with Fleta. This was of course a mere mockup, like the Vampire Demesnes of Citizen White; even so, he was much more at home here than in ordinary Proton.

“Challenges to be mounted singly,” the voice of the Game Machine announced. “Time limit: seven days.”

“So we have seven days to avoid the Game-death,” Bane said. “But how will the Citizen try to kill us? What be a machine-assisted intellectual format?”

“I do not know,” Agape said. “I thought it was a computer, but I don’t see how that can hurt us.”

“I think, as he said, we shall find out.”

“This is made to resemble Phaze? Could the hazards be natural ones of that frame?”

“If they are, I’ll know how to handle them. But there be no computers in Phaze.”

“Sometimes computers run things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, like robots, or—“

“Robots!” he exclaimed. “Like this body?”

She nodded. “Oh, Bane, I fear this will be bad.”

“But singly,” he reminded her. “Since there be two of us, mayhap we can handle them. One can sleep, the other watch.”

“And it’s not real death,” she said, taking heart. “We won’t really be hurt. But if we lose—“

“Then I will show the Citizen what he wishes,” Bane said grimly. “I like that not, for I trust him not, but I gave my word.”

She glanced at him sidelong. “Your word is important to you.”

“It be a matter of honor. My father has honor, and I be his son.”

She nodded. “It’s a good way to be.”

“It be the only way to be. A man without honor be not a man.”

“And what of those who are not men to begin with?”

Now he looked at her. “Elves have honor too, and unicorns and werewolves.”

“Women—or creatures from other worlds?”

He laughed. “If thou dost have it not, tell me now, ere I trust thee to guard me in my sleep!”

“I may define it somewhat differently in detail, but I think the essence is the same.”

They moved on through the forest, warily. “This be not Phaze, so I have no magic here,” Bane said. “That makes me feel naked.”

“You could fashion some clothing.”

He laughed again. “Mayhap thou dost resemble Fleta some! E’er doth she tease. Her dam be always serious, and doth stay mostly in equine form, but Fleta—“ He shrugged.

‘Then perhaps a weapon. ‘Naked* in the Game parlance means that you are provided with no tool, but you can make what you want from the surroundings. We don’t know what kind of a robot will be attacking us, but it may not be wise to meet it barehanded.”

‘True.” Bane looked about. “I would cut a staff, but have no knife.”

“I can form a sharp edge,” she offered.

“Sharp enough to cut wood?” he asked dubiously.

“I form substance hard enough to serve the function of bone and teeth; I can form harder if I try.”

“That be right! In minutes thou dost go from jelly to full human form. Canst make a metal knife?”

“In facsimile,” she said. She lifted her right hand, and it melted into a glob, then extended into something like a dagger. The edge firmed until it gleamed, looking wickedly sharp.

“Like magic,” Bane breathed admiringly.

“What do you want cut?”

He checked around, and found a suitable sapling. “This.”

She put her blade-extremity to its base and sliced. The edge cut in. She withdrew it and set it again, and in a moment a wedge of wood fell out. She made other cuts, and soon the sapling had been felled.

‘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.