Out of Phaze

“Mach!” she cried, letting her love for him overflow at last, letting the mountains hear it. Indeed they heard, for they echoed it back. At the snowy heights the snow-demons emerged from their ice caves, marveling at that echoing word. A ripple passed through the air: the splash of conviction.

Now she had uttered it. Now she was committed.

Then she made a swan-dive off the ledge.

15 - Blue

Bane found himself back in a Proton cell, this time clamped to a wall so that he could not move. Evidently Mach had not been able to free himself. But had he been successful in freeing Agape? That was what really counted.

He tuned himself out, knowing that there was nothing he could do at the moment, and that there was nothing the Contrary Citizens could do to him, since without him they would have no avenue to Phaze. Since this machine body had no so-called natural functions, his immobility did not generate discomfort. Obviously something had happened, to make the Citizen wary of his prisoner’s freedom. What had Mach done?

A screen came on before him. It was set in the wall opposite, and his head was locked into place facing it; he could tune it out in his mind, but could not look at anything else. It seemed his captor wanted him to watch it.

The picture was of the interior of a house or suite.

The furnishings were in shades of blue. “Pay attention, robot,” Citizen Purple’s voice came. “You thought you were pretty clever, springing the amoeba, but watch how we get her back.”

So the Citizen didn’t know that Bane had returned to Proton. He thought he was addressing Mach. Thus he was inadvertently providing the very information Bane most desired: the news that Agape had escaped. Mach had done his job!

But if she had escaped, she should have gone to Citizen Blue. The picture showed blue, suggesting that this was his residence. Was she here?

Indeed she was; in a moment she entered, in the company of a lovely older serf woman. They sat on the couch, unaware that they were being observed.

“We have to free Mach,” the older woman said earnestly. “They can no longer put pressure on him by threatening you, which is one reason he arranged to free you first. He could have used my friends to free himself, but he didn’t want to leave you in their power.”

“Your friends?” Agape asked.

“The self-willed machines. I am one, of course; our form matters less than our brain.”

“Your whorish robot mother must have taught you those tricks,” Purple muttered. Evidently his commentary was separate, directed to Bane alone.

“But why didn’t they save him too?” Agape was asking.

“They could have—but that would have alerted your captor to your own escape, and he might have intercepted you before you got clear. So Mach used himself as a diversion, distracting the Citizen’s attention from you, giving you the time you needed.”

“The bitch machine is right,” Purple said. “We were watching you. But that trick won’t work again. I have eliminated all the self-willed machines from my employ, and acted to prevent you from using any more cute little parts of yourself to do mischief.”

So that was what Mach had done! Bane would never have thought of that. He kept silent; he was doing well enough this way.

“But Mach—what of him, now?” Agape asked. “I never meant to leave him prisoner!”

“My husband will rescue him,” the woman said. “But we must make absolutely sure they do not get hold of you again because you represent their best lever against him. So I think we must send you back to your home planet, at least until my son is safe.”

“Yes, of course,” Agape agreed. “I have caused you too much trouble already.”

“Your participation in the problem was coincidental,” the woman, who Bane realized was Sheen, Mach’s mother, said gently. “Your support to him has been invaluable. We feel that no blame attaches to you. But now that you have become a key figure, we must keep you out of their hands. We are arranging to take you directly to the ship leaving today for Moeba.”

Was this to keep her safe—or to eliminate her as a factor in Mach or Bane’s life? Bane wasn’t sure. Yet perhaps it was best; he would rather have her on another planet than at risk of torture here.

“Guess what’s going to happen,” Purple said.

Suddenly Bane realized: they were watching a private dialogue! The enemy Citizen had used one of his pseudomagic devices to spy on Citizen Blue, and knew what was being planned. “No!” he cried.

“You thought all you needed was to spring her loose, boy? The game isn’t over till the blubber-lady sings.”

They were going to recapture Agape—and what would Bane do then? He couldn’t let her suffer!

Maybe it was a bluff. A charade, with actors in a setting resembling the home of Citizen Blue. After all, how could such a spying eye be placed without Blue knowing? Certainly Bane’s father, Stile, in Phaze, could not be spied on in such manner!

Yet Agape looked so genuine! He was sure it was her!