Phaze Doubt

So he set the matter aside and sought his date for the evening. She was as eagerly obliging as always. But the truth was, with the number of eligibles limited to about six, the matter was becoming a bit dull. He was also tired of walking in the subterranean park, where stalagmites formed a forest of trunks in many colors, and in watching re-reruns of the community’s store of video shows. Life was healthy here, as all things physically necessary to survival were provided, but emotionally stultifying. Many of the natives spent a great deal of time sleeping or gaming, but sleep was not for him, beyond the minimum required for survival, and gaming was now his vocation instead of his avocation.

It was no better for the elves, who on the surface had mined iridium and fashioned it into assorted artifacts. Deprived of their natural way of existence, they reacted in much the fashion of the human beings, sleeping, gaming, socializing, and fighting. Chief Oresmite was at times hard put to it to keep the peace.

There were some human-elf liaisons, not because of any natural affinity, but because of sheer boredom with the limits of their own populations. Lysander had not understood this well at first, but in time the relative unfamiliarity of the elf maidens became appealing, and he found himself dating them too. Such liaisons were officially discouraged, but privately tolerated; they were better than violence.

The whole community existed to support Mischief and the effort to save Phaze. But most of its work had been done before the four newcomers had arrived. Only if there was a cave-in in a tunnel or some other emergency was there actual need for human or elfin action. It was apparent that those who had settled here had made a considerable sacrifice. All longed for the time when they would be freed to live again on the surface—or die.

“The truth be,” an elf lass confided to him once, as she showed him what elves knew about fundamental interaction that human beings did not, “that I care not o’ermuch which it be, just so long as the dullness be done.” That seemed to be a general sentiment. They knew his position, but were not pushing him to save Phaze.

He avoided Echo, and she avoided him. But after a year desperation brought them together. “I told you I wasn’t interested in sex without obligation,” she said. “I have changed my mind.”

“It was better when we were in love,” he said. “If there were another potion, I would take it with you.”

“So would I. But there isn’t. Such potions work only once for a given couple. We would have to do it the hard way.”

“The hard way?”

“By falling in love naturally.”

“You mean that’s possible? I thought—“

“So did I. But others say that though it is harder, after a potion and nulling, it can be accomplished. It has to be worked at. I know you wouldn’t be interested in that.”

“I thought you wouldn’t be interested!” he said.

She gazed at him. “I wasn’t interested in being your mistress. Then. Now it doesn’t matter. Anything’s better than this bore dom.”

“Are the two incompatible?”

“Love and sex? They weren’t before.”

“Let’s consider it a challenge.”

“A challenge,” she agreed.

It turned out to be worth it. They could handle the sex readily enough, for they had had a lot of practice in their original month in love, but the love was slower. After a month there was only a flicker of emotion. After six there was some. After two years; it was significant. After three it was assuming the aspect of a shadow of their former feeling.

“I think we are right for each other after all,” he said. “I” have not been bored since we undertook this challenge.”

“Nor I,” she agreed. “Now I am glad we lost the unnatural love, because we are proving what is real.”

They kissed, quite satisfied. It seemed that love was most valuable when it was a struggle to achieve.

Four years after his arrival, Lysander was able to announce that the algorithmic computations were complete. “The figures, if invoked, will do the job,” he said.

Oresmite’s delight was restrained. “Then we must deal.”

“My position is unchanged.”

“But thou hast had opportunity to consider. Be it a victory for the Hectare an all be destroyed?”

“They would not consider it so.”

“But it be a victory for us, an it be saved.”

“Agreed.”

“So one side can win, and the other can only lose.”

“Yes. But this is logic. My mission is not subject to that.”

“Suppose it were possible at least to save most Hectare and some natives, by warning them now?”

“It isn’t. It would take several days to organize for a disciplined withdrawal, and only one day remained when I came here. Had I known the nature of the ploy sooner, I would have warned the Hectare.”

“Aye. We told thee little, until thou wast here. Yet there be a way.”

“Something you didn’t tell me?”

“Aye. I be thine enemy, remember.”

Lysander laughed. “I had almost forgotten! What is this secret?”