Phaze Doubt

“For you see, she distrusted men. It seemed to her that they inevitably took unfair advantage of women, and the king was the worst of all, because he had most power. Now her friend’s brother wanted her to distract the king, so that his sister could remain with her fiancé. But that fiancé was false, having secret affairs and no real respect for the woman he was to marry. If she were to distract the king, the fiancé would find another way to get rid of the fiancé. And her own father, instead of protesting the prospect of her liaison with the king, was in favor of it, because it would lend him additional status. Thus all the men were hopelessly corrupt. Only her mother supported her.” As the translator spoke, the named players animated and posed, the three men looking villainous, the mother looking noble.

But maybe he was going another route. Brown thought. Distrust of men was not the same as love of women. Brown herself did not hate men; she had great affection and respect for a number, beginning with the Adept Stile. She just didn’t care to have sex with them, any more than the men would care to have it with each other.

“So she, realizing that her mother lacked the gumption to do the job, and not trusting any man to do it, realized that she would probably have to do it herself. She hated the king and wanted him dead, because of his power over women and the possibility of his deciding to take her as a lover. Now was the time to kill him, because she had seen her friend’s fiancé go to the storerooms, and take the poison—“

“Objection!” Brown cried. “It has been established that only two people were in those halls at the time. There is no way a third could have been there.”

“Sustained,” the Game Computer said.

“She had seen him go there, and saw her mother emerge without the poison, so she knew he had taken it.”

“Objection! She couldn’t know that. He might have—“

“Sustained. A third sustained objection will terminate the turn.”

“Why are you objecting?” Purple inquired quietly. “The Hectare is framing his own character.”

“I don’t trust that,” she said. “Whatever he’s doing, I want to stop it.”

Purple shrugged. “Paranoia is good, in such a contest.”

Brown felt pleased, then condemned herself for it. She didn’t want Purple’s favor! She just had to win this game for him, and go her own way.

“She knew he could have taken it,” the Hectare said through the translator, after a pause for consultation. If it was annoyed, it didn’t show it. “Later she went herself to check, and found no poison, so she believed he had taken it. He was in a position to poison the dates.”

Now even Purple was perplexed. “The Hectare can’t be throwing the game! They play to win, always.”

“That meant that he could be framed,” the Hectare continued. Suddenly Brown appreciated the point: the buildup of the seeming guilt of a character determined to be innocent. Ouch! “So she could steal the poison from him, use it on the dates, and accuse him of the crime. In this manner she could get away with murdering the king, and another bad man would pay the penalty. It would be a double victory.”

“Brother,” Purple muttered. “This will be hard to refute. It’s him or her, and we don’t have room to show much more about him.” For the first time he looked uncomfortable; in fact downright nervous. Brown would have enjoyed the sight, if her own situation had not been on the line too.

She appreciated the problem. How could they explain away that motive, or put the young man into a situation that would make it obvious he was the guilty one? Any new wrinkle they might try could be turned around as another ploy in the frame: he looked guilty but wasn’t. The Hectare was playing with increasing competence and finesse, catching on rapidly to the nuances of the human condition.

They needed to get the girl of the palace, far away at the critical time. But they couldn’t, because she was one of the suspects; she had had opportunity to place the poison. Now she had motive, too; they could not undo that. At this stage, the jury was likely to rule against the girl. They couldn’t even give her an alibi, such as a love tryst at the critical time with her brother, because Tan and the Hectare had cleverly shut off that option by making her distrust men.

Then Brown saw the answer. It was painful for her, but it would do the job. “She was with her girlfriend at the time,” she said. “You know how to play it.”

Purple looked at her. “We made a deal. I need your golems on my side. They won’t be, if I break that deal.”

“There won’t be any deal, if you lose your hand,” she pointed out, amazed to hear herself arguing this case.

He nodded. “Play now, talk later. Maybe it will work.”

“Nothing else will,” she said.