Out of Phaze Read online

  Out of Phaze

  The Apprentice Adept

  Book 4

  by Piers Anthony

  Contents

  Chapter 1 Mach

  Chapter 2 Fleta

  Chapter 3 Bane

  Chapter 4 Magic

  Chapter 5 Search

  Chapter 6 Revelations

  Chapter 7 Citizen

  Chapter 8 Chase

  Chapter 9 Game

  Chapter 10 Adept

  Chapter 11 Escape

  Chapter 12 Apprentice

  Chapter 13 Agape

  Chapter 14 Appeal

  Chapter 15 Blue

  Chapter 16 Decision

  Chapter 1

  Mach

  The two young men dived into the pool. Mach struck the water more precisely and got the lead, but Rory splashed harder and caught him a third of the way along, then drove ahead for the victory. Panting and ruddy-faced with his effort, he laughed as Mach finished. “Slowpoke!”

  Mach shrugged. He had expected to lose, because his power was produced evenly; he could not put forth that extra surge of energy for a spot activity. However, neither did he tire; he could maintain a similar pace indefinitely. Had the race been longer, he would have won.

  Rory knew that, of course; it was only the luck of the grid that had given him the victory. He liked to tease Mach about his supposed unwillingness to try harder. It was his human way, for he was fully human. Mach was, of course, unhuman in all but form and consciousness.

  They shook themselves dry and watched while two girls lined up at the far end of the pool for their own contest. Both were young and well-formed, with tresses that fell down about their breasts with the provocative suggestion of clothing. One waved.

  “Hey, I think they’re following us!” Rory exclaimed. “Let’s wait for them!”

  “Yes, they collaborated to match our choice of contest,” Mach agreed.

  Rory squinted as the two young women dived in, wincing as one made a bad entry. “Android,” he muttered. “They’re clumsy.”

  “Less so than prior generations,” Mach said. “Soon the androids will be up to the human norm in coordination and intellect.”

  “I’d rather have them clumsy and stupid,” Rory said.

  “So you can love them and leave them,” Mach agreed. They had been over this before. The human male was easily aroused, but also easily satisfied. Mach himself could invoke his arousal circuit, and could also nullify it, but preferred to do neither. He wished that his body could move his mind in the involuntary natural human fashion, but it never happened.

  The girls completed their race and heaved themselves dripping from the pool. The breasts of the android bounced as she shook herself. The other girl was more diffident, standing somewhat awkwardly, so that her body did not show to advantage.

  “Looking for company?” Rory asked, his eyes traveling up and down the android’s body.

  “You’re human, aren’t you?” the android inquired. “I’d like to trade.”

  “Favors?” Rory asked, licking his lips.

  “Companions.”

  Rory nodded. “Sure, why not! Here’s Mach.” He hauled on Mach’s elbow.

  “Here’s Agape,” the android said, giving the other girl a little shove. “I’m Narda.”

  “I’m Rory. Let’s go somewhere.”

  The two walked away, leaving Mach with Agape. He had not sought her company, but found himself thus abruptly committed.

  “I don’t believe I have seen you before,” he said to the girl. Actually, he was sure of it; his memory for detail was of course infallible.

  “I’m new,” she agreed, speaking with an odd accent. “I just arrived yesterday. Narda was showing me the Game.”

  And now Mach was obliged to take over the task the android had been assigned. Well, he really had nothing better to do. “I will show you whatever you wish, Agape,” he said, carefully pronouncing her name the way the android had, three syllables with the accent on the first. “But I should advise you at the outset that I already have a liaison with one of your sex.”

  “My apology if I am violating a custom,” Agape said. “Are liaisons required?”

  “They are not. But sometimes they are expected.” He studied her more closely. “Are you android? You seem different.”

  “I am—alien,” she said. “This is not my natural form. But I was advised that if I wished to participate in this experiment, it was best to assume it. Have I given offense?”

  Alien! No wonder! “No offense.” Mach became more interested as his circuits grappled with the shift of concept. He had never interacted this closely with a humanoid alien before. The experimental community consisted of human beings, robots, androids and cyborgs, all in perfect human form, and in the course of the past year there had been a number of changes as individuals were shifted from one city to another. The purpose was to create a new, egalitarian society in which no serfs were ghettoized. It seemed to be working, and now these integrated serfs were being spread about the planet of Proton so as to bring the enlightened attitude to all. Whether that latest effort was to be successful remained in doubt; the wider society of Citizens and serfs clung to its prejudices as if they were points in the Tourney.

  Now aliens were being included. This was ambitious indeed. Mach perceived the input of his father in that. Citizen Blue had been laboring for twenty years to revamp the society of Proton, and had accomplished a great deal. Obviously the effort was not slackening.

  “Is my presence a burden to you?” Agape inquired.

  “It is not. I was merely assessing the implications.”

  “I am concerned that I merge inadequately.”

  “This is to be expected at the beginning,” Mach said. “I will show you the premises.”

  “This is appreciated.”

  He took her through the stations of the Game Annex, explaining how any legitimate resident was free to play any of the games of the grid. He told her how many serfs, including himself, practiced the Game diligently, because each year there was a Game Tourney whose winner was granted Citizenship and became a member of the ruling class. Apparently Narda had simply brought her along without explanation, and dumped her at the first opportunity. This was not proper behavior, but allowances had to be made for androids. They tended to be less socially aware than others were.

  He brought her to a cubicle and showed her the two panels. “This is the selection mechanism,” he explained. “You stand at one, and I stand at the other. Each panel presents the primary grid, with the numbered terms across the top, and the lettered ones down the side. One player chooses from the numbers, the other from the letters. On my grid the letters are highlighted, so I must choose from them. On yours it will be the numbers.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “They read ‘1. PHYSICAL, 2. MENTAL, 3. CHANCE, 4. ARTS.’ But I do not grasp what they mean.”

  “You must select one. If you wish to indulge in a physical competition, touch 1. If you prefer mental, touch 2. I will touch one of mine, and where they intersect will define the nature of our game.”

  “How very clever,” she said. “I shall touch the first.”

  “It is not necessary to tell me your choice. It is the mystery of it that provides much of the appeal.” But since this was only a demonstration, Mach checked his choices of A. NAKED, B. TOOL, C. MACHINE and D. ANIMAL, and touched B. He was of course a machine himself, but that made no difference here. Citizen Blue had given the self-willed machines serf status, which meant they could play the Game.

  The square for PHYSICAL/TOOL brightened, then expanded into a new pattern. “This is the secondary grid,” Mach explained. “It helps to define the tool-assisted physical games. We must choose again—you from the lettered ones, I from the numbered on
es, this time.”

  “E. EARTH, F. FIRE, G. GAS, H. H20,” she read. “I don’t believe I understand.”

  “They really stand for the type of surface on which the game is to be played,” Mach said. “Flat, Variable, Discontinuous or Liquid. Some programmer decided to get clever with the letters, matching them up with words. It is true that the earth is normally a flat surface, and fire forms a variable surface, and gas is discontinuous if you seek to stand on it, and H2O stands for water, which is a liquid. All you need be concerned about is the nature of the surface upon which you prefer to play, whether flat, or like a mountain, or—”

  “Thank you,” she said, and touched her choice.

  His own choices were 5. SEPARATE, 6. INTERACTIVE, 7. COMBAT and 8. COOPERATIVE. He touched the second.

  The square for FLAT SURFACE/INTERACTIVE brightened. Now the grid became a smaller one of nine boxes, with a list of terms at the side. “We get to fill in this one ourselves,” he explained. “Choose any game that you like.”

  “I do not know these games,” she protested. “Marbles, earthball, Jett de boules”

  Because she was alien. All the common flat-surface ball games were unknown to her.

  “We’ll simplify it,” he said. “We’ll fill the entire subgrid with one game, tiddlywinks. Then I’ll show you how to play that.”

  And so they did. Their selection made, they adjourned to a chamber with a table, and thereon was the tiddlywinks set. Mach showed her how to make one chip jump when pressured by another, and she was delighted. They played the game, and he won, but she was quite satisfied. Now she had a notion how things were done on the Planet of Proton.

  They exited the Game Annex. Mach would have preferred to go his own way, but was uncertain how to dispose of Agape. He had been given a commitment to assist her, and though he knew the basis for that assignment was largely spurious, he also knew that she needed guidance, and that he was a more responsible guide than the android Narda had been. Thus he could not let it go as casually as he had undertaken it.

  “Am I now becoming a burden to you, Mach?” she inquired nervously.

  “This is true,” he agreed. “But I conclude that I should assist you further, so that you will be able to handle our society alone.”

  She made an uncertain laugh, as though both the act and the basis for it were novelties. “You are unlike Narda.”

  “She is an android. I am a robot.”

  She turned her head to gaze at him with perplexity. “I had assumed you were android or human, like the others. You resemble those.”

  “I am crafted to resemble them, just as you are. But my interior operations are no more human than are yours.” He spotted a dining region. “Do you wish to eat?”

  “That is appealing,” she agreed.

  He guided her to one of the food dispensers. “You may describe whatever you wish, and it will craft it for you,” he said.

  “I am incompletely familiar with local custom. Perhaps I should attempt whatever you choose to consume.”

  Mach smiled. “Oh, I don’t have to eat. My power cell takes care of my energy needs.”

  “Yes, of course; you are a machine. Perhaps we should dispense with this activity, in that case.”

  Mach considered. He suspected that she was hungry, but so anxious about making an error of custom that she was afraid to make her own choice. “I can eat,” he said. “I merely do not need to. Suppose I order nutri-drink for each of us?”

  “My gratitude.” Indeed, she was almost fawning. He placed the order, and in a moment they had two tall containers of the beverage, complete with straws. “Is it permissible to be private?” she asked. “Certainly.” He showed the way to a booth, and the curtain closed about them, cutting off all sight and sound of the remainder of the dining alcove.

  Mach sipped his drink, using the straw. Agape hesitated. “It is a matter of generating a partial vacuum in the mouth,” he explained. “That causes the pressure of the air to push the fluid up through the straw.”

  “My concern is not of that nature,” she said. “I am an alien, amoebic in nature. I can maintain the human form for ordinary pursuits, but am unable to do so for imbibation. I am concerned that my mode of assimilation would be a social indiscretion in your presence.”

  “I will of course leave the booth if you prefer,” Mach said. “But I am scientifically interested in your biology, and I am not subject to annoyance because of differing modes of operation.”

  Still she hesitated. “Narda termed it ‘gross,’ I believe that is why she preferred to separate herself from me.” Androids were notorious for their crudities of behavior and humor. What could Narda have found gross? “Please be reassured, Agape. I am a machine. I have no emotion not programmed, and even those can be evoked or revoked at will. Nothing you might do would dismay me.”

  “You are certain?”

  “I am certain.”

  “Then I shall assimilate this material.”

  She put her hands to the container and stretched it wide, so that it gradually reformed into a broad, shallow dish. Mach had known how malleable the material was, as the empty containers were normally compacted into balls and rolled into the recycling hopper, but he had never before seen a person reform one while it was full of fluid.

  Now she leaned forward, bringing her head directly over the dish. Her features melted, the nose, eyes, ears and mouth disappearing. Her head receded into her neck, and her breasts lifted to join it, forming a single globular mass above the table. This mass flattened and descended until it covered the full dish. The flesh dipped into the beverage.

  In the course of the next few minutes the beverage disappeared, absorbed into the pancake-shaped mass of flesh. The amoeba was assimilating nourishment in the fashion of its kind.

  Then the mass lifted, forming another glob. The glob stretched out, narrowing to form the neck, bulging below to fashion breasts, and shaping gradually back into the human features above. The configuration he recognized as Agape returned, features clean, eyes and mouth closed.

  The eyes opened, and then the mouth. “Do you wish to depart my presence now?” she asked.

  “No. I find your process of assimilation fascinating.”

  “It is not gross to you?”

  “It is educational to me. I appreciate being shown it.”

  She looked at him without further comment. He remembered to resume work on his own drink.

  “If I may inquire without offense,” she said, “how is it that you, a machine, have been crafted in human form? I have seen other machines in other forms, suited to their tasks.”

  “I am what is known as a humanoid robot. I have been crafted to resemble a living human being as closely as is feasible, in both the physical and mental states. It is part of my father’s effort to integrate the self-willed machines into the society of Proton. If humanoid ones can be successful at this, then the non-humanoid ones can follow.”

  “But do not human beings grow from small creatures formed within the bodies of their parents? Surely you have a maker, not a father.”

  “I have a father and a mother,” Mach said firmly. “My father is Citizen Blue, an immigrant from the frame of Phaze. My mother is Sheen, a female robot. It is possible for a female robot to be implanted with a human egg-cell that can be fertilized internally by a human male, and for her to nourish that cell in the laboratory of her body and birth it in the human fashion, becoming a surrogate mother to his child. But Sheen elected not to be modified to accommodate this; she preferred to have a robot baby, like herself. Therefore I am a robot, but my basic programming makes my awareness and intellectual quotient very similar to those of my father.”

  “But then you were constructed as an adult, fully formed as you are now.”

  “I was crafted as a robot baby, incontinent and untrained. I was adjusted for growth on a weekly basis, trained and educated by hand. Periodically my metal skeletal structure was replaced, and my wiring revamped, but I never changed size o
r appearance in any large step. In this manner I proceeded in the course of sixteen years to my present size, and thereafter have remained constant. I was put through normal human schooling, along with the androids, cyborgs and human beings of my group. I regard myself as a human being in all except flesh.”

  “You are very like a human being,” she agreed. “I did not realize your nature until you advised me. But what is the point of this significant effort?”

  “To demonstrate that complete integration of the diverse intelligent elements of our society is feasible,” he replied. “In the past there has been discrimination against robots, cyborgs and androids. In the future all will participate on an equal basis.”

  “And perhaps aliens too,” she agreed. “Now the rationale behind my own participation becomes clear, was not informed by my own planetary authorities; was simply given my assignment. Your father is a perceptive being.”

  “This is true. But the job is not yet complete, and there is substantial opposition. We must all be careful.”

  “Opposition? I did not realize.”

  “The majority of Citizens would have preferred retain the prior system, in which only chosen human beings had power, and only human beings were eligible to compete for Citizenship.”

  “You mentioned this before. What is a Citizen?”

  “A member of the governing class of Proton. Citizens have enormous power, and the right to wear clothing, we serfs must address any Citizen as ‘sir’ and obey an directive he gives.”

  “But I had understood that serfs had opportunity to achieve power. That if I succeeded in accommodating myself to this society, such opportunity would become mine.”

  “This is true, but such opportunity is limited. A Citizen can confer an inheritance of his position on a designated heir, the new Citizen to exist when the old Citizen dies or abdicates. It is understood that when my father dies, I will assume his Citizen status, and be perhaps the first robot Citizen. But there is doubt that this will come to pass, because the Council of Citizens may succeed in outlawing such accession. It is also possible for any serf to win Citizenship through the annual Tourney, as I mentioned; this is in effect how Blue obtained his position, though it was actually won by his alternative self.”