Out of Phaze

“A what?” the Citizen rapped. Then: “But no signal can get out either!” Which meant they had picked up the signal, and were about to trace it down. That would take them some time. When they finally located it, they would not know how the signal unit had gotten there.

“Check the alien bitch!” the Citizen said. “He’s bound to try to spring her!”

But of course Mach hadn’t done that, yet. Agape was supposed to wait till night, then make her break. Mach hoped to remain hidden until after she started her action; then he could relax. All this was only a distraction, to keep the Citizen and his minions occupied until Agape could escape.

The Citizen’s voice faded out; Mach could hear with preternatural acuteness when he tried to, but there were limits, and the Citizen had passed out of range. The commotion continued, as the serfs launched a methodical search for the signal-unit and for Mach himself. At first, surely, they would believe that he was in the vicinity of the signal generator, and comb through the Game region—which would be a tedious chore indeed! Once they ascertained that the generator was a separate item, they would go through the remaining premises with determination. He would inevitably be found— but probably not before Agape started her escape and enlisted the aid of the self-willed machines.

When they did catch him, he suspected, they would ask him about the signal he had been sending: what was its nature, and to whom was it directed? He would tell them that it was a phony signal, meaning nothing, merely random noise, that could not penetrate the Citizen’s

signal-barrier. And they would not believe him, because why would he have gone to such an extraordinary effort to put out that signal if it could not accomplish anything? So the quest would continue, and that distraction would give Agape more leeway for her escape. And once she escaped, it would be only a matter of time before Citizen Blue had news of Mach’s location. Then the real fun would begin!

He was only a machine. But he was a machine in love, just as his mother Sheen was; he understood her better than he had before. As far as he was concerned, the Experimental Project was a success; as part of it, he had become as human as any of his kind had ever aspired to be. And he found that he enjoyed making a fool of Citizen Purple. He hoped Bane was doing the same to the Purple Adept.

Now it was time to dream of life, and of Fleta, and what he wished might have been. Time for machine dreams.

Mach tuned out, waiting.

12 - Apprentice

Bane, conscious of his agreement with Mach, gave no sign as he found himself in the passage lighted by magic-glow rather than scientific effects. He had been walking naked; now he was fully clothed, and that seemed strange after more than a week in the other state. He did not want anyone to know, yet, that the bumbling visitor had been replaced by the skilled native. “He is near,” he said. “I know I can do it. But show me Fleta first, in good health.”

“Do it now, or she shall lose her horn now,” Purple said sternly.

Rage flared in Bane. They were going to dehorn Fleta? That would deprive the unicorn of all her magic power and most of her will to live! The Adverse Adepts had done that to her uncle Clip, before Bane was born, and only Stile’s total magic had been able to mend that horn. Any chance that Bane might have worked voluntarily with these Adepts dissipated with this news. Fleta was hardly his love, but she was an old friend, and such a threat against her alienated him instantly.

He did not need to conceal his emotion, for Mach felt as strongly about the mare as Bane himself did, if in a different manner. The propriety of Mach’s relationship with the unicorn was questionable, but since Mach was now back in his own frame, that didn’t matter. It would be ironic if Fleta were mutilated to punish a person who might never see her again anyway.

‘Thou hast made that threat before,” Bane said grimly. “How can I know that thou hast not already done it?”

“So now thou dost affect native speech?” the Purple Adept remarked contemptuously. “Forget it, alien; thou canst not fool anyone.”

Oops—it seemed that Mach had maintained his own dialect. Well, Bane had been in Proton long enough to pick it up. “I thought it was close enough,” he muttered, as if disgruntled. “Anyway, show me she’s all right, or I’ll know she isn’t.” Indeed, he had no respect for the word of this man, and realized he would be foolish to deliver the message from Proton without ensuring that the terms were met.

The Adept scowled, but yielded. “One time, then— but try not my patience further.”

They went to the cell where Fleta was confined. She was in her natural form, and an amulet had been tied to her horn, nullifying it. She was also in a halter, with her head tied in place so that she could not move it to scrape off the amulet, and trolls kept watch.