Out of Phaze

“Aye, she be thy concubine. I saw as much when the two of you trespassed across my Demesnes. Now I ask thee, apprentice: how much music will that mare play, without her horn?”

Fleta renewed her struggles, but the mass of trolls overwhelmed her. She could neither escape nor change form, while her horn was held.

What would happen to a unicorn whose horn was amputated? Mach didn’t know, but the very fact that the evil Adept expected him to be cowed by this threat served the purpose. He had no faith in any good will by this man, and he couldn’t risk harm to Fleta.

“I will carry a message to Proton,” he said dully. “Release Fleta.”

“Release her? Nay, she will remain with us—unharmed pending thy cooperation.” The Purple Adept made another signal, and the trolls heaved and shoved the resisting unicorn from the chamber. “She will reside in an enchanted cell that be proof from her escape in any form. An thou cooperate fully, she will be well enough treated otherwise.”

Mach felt a private rage such as he had never experienced when he had been a robot, but he knew he had to control it. He just could not risk harm to Fleta! “What is your message?”

‘The first one will be to mine other self, Citizen Purple, just to let him know that contact has been reestablished. He will know what to do, and what message to return.”

The first one. When would this brute ever give over? Not as long as he had control of Fleta!

But perhaps there was a way out. Mach suppressed that thought, not wanting any hint of it to show here. “I have to overlap the spot my other self occupies,” he said. “I can’t do that if you don’t let me move about.”

“Thou shalt move about—in my presence,” Purple said. “And be thou advised, apprentice, that thy magic may be apt against ordinary folk, but cannot compare with mine own. An thou try something against me, not only will I balk it, I will let my minions at the animal’s horn. Trolls hate ‘corns; only the restraint I impose prevents them from making her scream.”

There will be a reckoning, Mach thought, then quelled his outrage.

He tuned in on Bane—and his other self was very close now. Apparently Bane had been able to follow him here. So it would happen soon—and then he would see whether his wild notion would work.

He experimented, discovering that he could tell the direction from which his other self was coming. He faced that way, ready to walk toward Bane—but he was in a tunnel underground, and the rock wall cut him off.

So he walked along the tunnel, angling toward the other self, while the Purple Adept paced him. “As I understand this,” Purple said, “thou art from Proton and have little power of magic. When thou dost exchange back, Bane will be here, and he has power. But thou must remember that any hostile magic practiced here will cost the horn of the animal, and perhaps more thereafter. So thou wouldst be best advised to deliver the message, and bring the return message—and to advise thine other self of the wisdom of this procedure. He may not care for the animal as thou dost, and will leave her to her fate otherwise.”

“Understood,” Mach said tightly. He kept walking.

The awareness of his other self grew steadily stronger. Mach realized that the two would overlap very soon. He resolved to accomplish the exchange without giving any outward sign. That was part of his wild plan.

The tunnel curved, allowing him to proceed directly toward his target—and suddenly it happened. Overlap! But Mach did not stop walking, and in a moment the contact slipped; he had not grasped the opportunity when it had come.

Then he felt his other self approaching from behind. Wait, it thought.

I cannot, Mach thought back, as the other paced him for a moment. I am in enemy power.

So am I, the other returned.

Mach quailed. His wild hope had been dashed. He had wanted to get help through Proton, arranging some counter pressure there that would nullify the hold Purple had oh him. If he could have made the exchange without Purple knowing, and arrange the counter-action, and exchanged back—

He kept walking, and the other phased in again, this time maintaining it. Fleta is hostage; I am helpless.

Agape be hostage here.

Quickly they compared situations—and realized that they had a chance after all. Satisfied, they made the exchange.

Mach found himself in the same tunnel, only now it was a passage, lighted by electricity instead of magic-glow. He was naked. The one who paced him now was Citizen Purple, a man he knew by reputation. Obviously he had taken Agape hostage in much the same fashion as his other self, the Purple Adept, had taken Fleta hostage. And Bane must have developed a close relationship with the alien female. Well, it was perhaps no stranger than his own with Fleta.

He turned to the Citizen. “Contact be near, now,” he said. “What be thy message, again?” He hoped he had the language down well enough to fool the man.

“Stop stalling, boy!” Purple snapped. “You know the message!”

Mach stopped walking. “Let me see her again.”