Phaze Doubt

Lysander had suffered a whirlwind change of situation, at the time of the invasion and again when he had fled the city with Echo, the cyborg woman whose other self was a harpy. He had quit Alyc when she turned out to be a Hectare agent, and gone with Jod’e, until the Tan Adept had used his Evil Eye to make her his love slave. Lysander was a Hectare agent himself, but his necessary association with the natives enabled him to relate to their concerns. Alyc’s identity as an agent had been a distressing surprise, and he had reacted as any loyal native would, dumping her. Jod’e’s conversion had been an uglier shock; he had really come to appreciate her qualities, physical and intellectual, in their brief association. But Echo-Echo was beautiful, with her slender body and brown fluff of hair. But her body was of inanimate substance; only her brain was human. Alyc had been full human, and Jod’e android, so Echo seemed to be one more step away. But on this planet few things were quite what they seemed, and he found he could accept the emulation of life Echo represented, knowing that her loyalty to the old order was absolute. Alyc had been fully alive in body, but a traitor in mind; Echo was true in mind. He had less interest in her harpy form, except that that was the root of her loyalty lo Phaze.

She had taken him to a serf boy walking the halls. “Who is this?” he had demanded.

“Who do you think, unbeliever?” the boy had responded. Then Lysander had known it was the weird child Nepe/Flach.

Three serfs walking ahead of them had assumed the likenesses of Lysander, Echo, and the boy, for the hall monitors to track. Lysander had ducked into a side passage with Echo, and abruptly had found himself standing here under the trees where he had first encountered the harpy Oche, and handled Echo’s legs.

“We’re out of the city!” he exclaimed, amazed.

“Yes, the Unicorn Adept conjured us free,” she said.

“Where do we go from here?”

“Nowhere.”

“But I hardly know how to forage, and I have no place to sleep. I can’t be much use to anyone, here!”

The harpy appeared, perched on a low branch. “Willst share my nest w’ me?” she screeched.

Lysander tried to mask his dismay. “No affront to you, but I’m not sure I care for the elevation, even if my weight doesn’t tear your nest out of the tree.”

Echo reappeared, her nakedness glorious in comparison. One hand was on the branch, and he realized that she had made a smooth translation because she had contact with it, and could guide herself during the change. “I also have a nether bower you may find more comfortable.”

“I’m sure I would,” he agreed quickly.

She put her hand to the trunk of the tree, and pulled on the bark. The bark swung out, becoming a panel or door. Now there was a hole in the tree, just about big enough for a man to crawl through. “After you, then,” she said, gesturing to it.

“But that’s just a cavity!” he protested. “There can’t possibly be room inside it for me! The trunk is only a meter thick.”

She merely waited, her gesture in place.

Lysander shrugged. He walked to the opening, and discovered that it was the entrance to a chute leading down. Oh. He lifted a leg and put a foot in, then worked the rest of his body through, until only his head was outside. His feet now dangled in the darkness; he had no idea how deep the hole was. “Drop,” Echo said. “You will not be hurt.” Could this be some trap to put him away? But why would they bother to transport him here for that? He had to trust them, because he wanted to achieve their trust. Only when he had it could he learn the most secret details of their plan for resistance—and betray it.

He let go. He fell down—and landed in a moment in a bed of feathers. There was a sliver of light from above, that soon shut off.

Echo was coming down after him. Hastily he rolled to the side so she wouldn’t land on top of him.

He was not quite fast enough. She whomped down beside him, knocking him flat in the darkness.

“Well, now,” she said. “This is the way I like my men: laid out.” She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed close.

“But we’ve only met!” he said.

“We met months ago. Now hang on while I take your measure.”

“Measure?”

“I need to ascertain whether you are truly with us,” she said. “Jod’e was supposed to do that, but Tan took her out. I doubt you’re ready to love me on such short notice, but we only have a few days, so it will have to be the crash course.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“The prophecy says—“

“Oh, that! But how can you be sure that refers to me?”

“We can’t. But if it does, we want you with us. We think you will be more likely to be with us if you love one of us. That’s why Jod’e had to take you from that spy.”

“You know about that?”

“The Adepts did. So they sent Jod’e to—“

“She did! But then Tan—“