Phaze Doubt

Purple was taxiing around, getting aligned for the takeoff. By the time Tsetse was bare, the plane had gotten up speed. Purple, concentrating on his piloting, had paid no attention to Tsetse. That was just as well, since he would have caught on instantly had he touched her. He had after all had an affair with her. This remained chancy business!

Soon they reached the Hardom dome, and landed. A Citizen transport was waiting for them. They entered the chamber, and it moved into the hidden transport network of the city.

Purple touched a console. “Replay my engagement to play a game with the Hectare,” he snapped.

A wall became a screen. It was as if they were looking through a picture window to a larger room. There was Citizen Purple, exactly as now, speaking from the screen of a phone. “I crave the honor of engaging my Hectare supervisor in a game,” the figure said politely. “I feel this would benefit our mutual understanding. Of course there is no obligation, if you have other business, and I apologize for intruding on your time.”

That was it. The inset screen clock showed that this call had been made just about the time Purple was arriving at the Brown Demesnes. It was an obvious frame—to those who knew what he had actually been doing.

Brown, true to her agreement, said what she could. “Someone somehow emulated thee, Purple. But that was when thou wast talking with me, as I will attest. If thou dost explain to the Hectare, maybe—“

“Too late for that. Once the Hectare accepted the challenge, that was that. I’m hoist. But once I catch the perpetrator...”

“Methinks only Mach could do it.”

“The tech for the call, yes, Mach/Bane,” he agreed, pronouncing the names as if they were one name, appropriately. “But the emulation, that would be Flach/Nepe. I’ve tangled with that brat before, and she’s more dangerous than any of the rest. I told the Hectare, nail her first, but they didn’t understand. Now she’s getting me back.” He glanced at Brown. “I know you’re on the other side, but this need be no secret. I’ve got a healthy respect for that one, and if I don’t kill her, she’ll kill me. But you have made a deal, and you will not allow her to attack me through you.”

“I made the deal with thee,” Brown agreed. “But that extends not to betraying those who support Phaze.”

“Don’t quibble, woman. If you know where the brat is hiding, you won’t tell me. But if you know the brat is about to do me harm, you will protect me from it. She shall not use you to harm me.”

Brown realized that Nepe had set up the bogus challenge to the Hectare before approaching Brown. In fact, she had probably recorded it, and then her father had sent it at the critical moment. Nepe was using Brown to fight the invaders in some devious way, not to harm Purple directly. But if Purple lost the game, he would be harmed, and Brown would have some share of blame for that, because she was cooperating with Nepe. It was a devious situation, ethically, but as she saw it, she had to make sure that Purple won the game. “Aye.”

“I am sure you have had contact with her,” Purple continued. “Your castle is being watched, but of course she can get around that. It will be thoroughly searched during your absence. But as long as you honor the deal, no harm will come to you. Your chances of inadvertently betraying her are as good as they are of helping her. I figure that balances it out.”

“Aye.” She was developing a grudging respect for Purple. He was an unscrupulous and personally loathsome person, but he had made it possible for her to retain her loyalty and lifestyle while helping him. It was a more generous deal than she might have expected. She knew that Nepe understood that no direct attack on Purple could be tolerated now, however tempting it might be; if such a thing occurred. Brown would be obliged to betray Nepe to the enemy. Perhaps Purple, whose mind was as devious as any, was hoping for that.

The transporter stopped, and the door opened. They were at the Game Annex, about fifteen minutes early.

“Where is the game studio?” Purple demanded of the nearest serf.

“I will lead you there, sir,” the serf replied. “You are expected.”

“My second and her maid are also to be admitted.”

“The Hectare has arranged it, sir,” the man said as he led the way.

Indeed, the Hectare was ready, It stood within the studio, huge and grotesque, its myriad eye facets glinting. Brown did her best to mask the revulsion she felt at its proximity.

“Sir, this is my second, the Brown Adept, and her maid Tsetse,” Purple said.

A man stepped forward. It was Citizen Tan, wearing his tentacle-cap. “I am the Hectare’s second,” he said. “What the hell are you doing, Purple?”

“A frame,” Purple said darkly. “We need better security on the phone system.”

Tan nodded. “The brat—and maybe serf Lysander, who has computer circuitry skills. I want that one myself.” Then he turned to the Hectare. “Sir, Purple is ready when you are.”