Robot Adept Page 19

  She hugged him again. Then: “We have been apart, and now have so little time together. I know this is not my own body, but—”

  “I met thee in Mach’s body,” he reminded her.

  “Do you think Fleta would mind, if—”

  “Nay, she would mind not.” Then he conjured them both to the private glade where he had first exchanged with Mach, and made a small screened tent there, and they made love, first savagely, then again gently, and then they slept.

  Next day he brought her to the proper spot. He held her closely as they overlapped their opposites in Proton, and sang the spell to transfer her back.

  Her body did not change, but its nature did. In a moment he knew that it was Fleta he was holding.

  He put his lips to her ear. “Filly, dost know me?” he whispered.

  “Aye, Bane,” she whispered back. “I will help thee in thy quest.”

  “Thou knowest they watch us.”

  “Aye.” She drew back her head and gazed into his face as if in love with him. “Can you speak Protonese?” she murmured.

  He stared at her. It was not that her words were unreasonable; it was that he had never imagined her using that mode. “I can,” he said. “But—”

  “Methinks I can suffer this masquerade for a time, an thou canst,” she said. “I like it not, but my love asked me, an if it helps put things right…” Then she lifted her lips and kissed him.

  He was startled again. Of course she would kiss Mach! If he was to play the part, he had to play it, and she did too. That was why her cooperation was essential. He just had not anticipated this aspect. His days of experimentation with Fleta were long over.

  But, this being the case, he would have to make love to her too! It would be an early giveaway if he avoided this aspect of Mach’s relationship with her. But how did she feel about this? She had exchanged the triple Thee with Mach!

  She brought her mouth close to his ear again. “I love another, but I hate thee not, and can play such games with thee as thy kind does. As I have done before.”

  “Then it be but sex,” he whispered back. “Our hearts be in it not.”

  “Aye.” Then she drew away from him. “But we dally, Mach!” she exclaimed brightly. “Didst thou not have enough o’ manstyle play w’ me in Proton?”

  “I can never have enough,” he replied carefully. But he let her go.

  “We have been long away from our sanctuary,” she said. “Let me carry thee there.” And she became her natural self, the unicorn.

  “Yes, of course,” he agreed. He mounted her a trifle clumsily, as he judged Mach might. She set off westward. One thing about this: he did not have to say much or do much, so ran less risk of giving away his identity. The Adverse Adepts might be watching, but would soon become bored with this, and would not pay much attention.

  While he rode, he pondered the plan that he and Stile had devised. Stile, in those last three days, had taught him an exotic technique that even most Adepts did not know: that of spiritual separation. This magic could send a person’s awareness out apart from his body, so that he could perceive things that his body could not. It required a different spell each time, of course, but Stile had worked out several that had worked for him, and should now work for Bane. The effect was limited in time and distance, so it was necessary to get physically within range before invoking the separation. This restricted its application—but if Bane could find a way to get close without suspicion, it could be invaluable.

  That was why he had sought Mach’s cooperation.

  Mach could not spy in this manner, lacking the magic, and would not if he could. But Mach could get close to the Adverse Adepts. This switch of seeming identities should enable Bane to get close enough so that he could learn what they needed to know. The dominance of the frame might depend on his success in this mission.

  And Fleta, bless her, was cooperating! Mach had a good match in her; she might be an animal, but some animals were more substantial folk than some human beings, and she was an example. Her friend the werebitch Furramenin was another, and of course Suchevane—ah, the vampire was special indeed!

  As evening approached, and the sun reddened behind a cloudbank before them, Fleta stopped, and Bane dismounted. She set about grazing, which was her most comfortable way to eat, while he foraged for nuts and fruits. He could have conjured food, but did not for two reasons: first, because Mach would not be good at such magic, and second, because magic was too valuable to waste on routine chores. If he was in danger of starving, then a conjuration would be in order; meanwhile, foraging would do.

  As complete darkness settled in, Fleta assumed girlform and came to him. The air was turning chill—but again, what point magic, when they could share body warmth? They removed their clothing, and spread her black cloak and his blue shirt and trousers over the two of them as blankets, and embraced. It made sense because of the warmth, and because they were supposed to be lovers. For all an observer could have told, they were being lovers now, and that was the impression they wanted to give. Bane intended merely to sleep.

  But Fleta was as full of mischief as ever. “Canst guess how often I longed to get thee like this, an my heat approached?” she whispered.

  Heat! Bane went rigid. When a mare came to that part of her cycle, she had to breed, or suffer terribly, and no mere man could satisfy her. “Thou’rt not—?”

  “Nay, not this week,” she said. “But when I learned the human way of it, for pleasure rather than naughtiness, I came to like it any time.” She moved against him, breast against his chest, thigh over his thigh. She might be an animal, and a childhood friend, but she felt exactly like a woman at the moment.

  “I made love to her, in thy body,” he said, hoping to divert her. “We thought thou wouldst not mind.”

  “Nor do I,” she agreed. “Oft did I do the same with him in thy body.” She considered a moment. “How was my body?”

  “Ne’er better,” he confessed. “Now stop thy teasing, and let me sleep.”

  She decided she had gone far enough, and acceded. Her sexual urge was not at all the same as his; she just liked to demonstrate that she could make him react against his will. She had done that now, and was satisfied.

  He relaxed. But he knew the time would come soon enough when, to preserve his secret, they would have to make it real. That might be just part of the game, to her, because animals had no proprietary concerns about sex, but it was no game to him. He felt guilty already for what would surely occur—and more guilty because he discovered that a part of him desired it. The act he could account for, when circumstance made it necessary; the desire he could not.

  Bane had never been within the Translucent Demesnes before, and he found it fascinating. The underwater isle, the ancient creatures, the seeming ability to fly—what a realm the Adept had, here! He tried not to gawk as the unicorn carried him through the strange landscape to their refuge.

  At last they passed through the dome-shaped curtain and walked on the “normal” land of the isle. All around this region the creatures of the archaic ocean could be seen.

  “Must needs we tour the isle, to be sure naught be changed,” Fleta said brightly, shifting to girlform.

  “Yes,” he said, keeping his language in character. This was her way of acquainting him with the details of this setting, so that he would not make any giveaway errors.

  In this fashion she introduced him to the creatures she and Mach had come to know. “And here be Naughty, the same as ever!” she exclaimed as they encountered a creature like a squid in a shell longer than the length of a man. “Nay, chide me not, Mach; I know thou dost call him ‘Nautiloid’ from the Ordovician period o’ Earth! But to me he be Naughty, for all the times he blunders through to land and we needs must heave him back.” She reached through the dome-wall and petted the monster on the shell. A tentacle reached up and coiled briefly about her wrist, squeezing and letting go. Obviously the monster did remember her, and liked her.

  In due co
urse they completed the circuit of the isle. “All be in order,” Fleta announced. “Now let me graze and sleep.”

  “But—” Bane started, concerned that he did not yet know enough about this region to avoid a blunder.

  “Hast thou not had enough o’ sex on the way here?” she chided him. “Canst not let me sleep in peace, after carrying thee all this distance?”

  Oh. She was giving him a pretext to leave her alone, so that the Translucent Adept, who surely watched, had no reason to be suspicious.

  He foraged for his supper while she assumed her natural form and grazed on the rich grass growing here. She was catching up on sleep, too; she could graze while sleeping, which was a useful ability at times.

  After he ate, he caught up on natural functions, then piled fragrant ferns and lay down, nominally to sleep. Actually he whispered the spell of separation. Stile had worked this out so that its evocation was virtually undetectable; it was largely internal magic, not the external magic that used enormous power. When he conjured himself from place to place, the magic made a splash that could readily be detected by those alert for it; when Stile conjured one of Bane’s butterfly forms to another spot, the splash occurred at the site of the conjuration, not of arrival, so there was no alarm. But he had done about all he could with butterflies; now he hoped to do more with his spirit.

  He drifted out from his body. He could see, hear, smell and even feel, despite having a center of awareness that was insubstantial. He saw his body, seemingly sleeping; he saw Fleta grazing; he saw Naughty Nautiloid foraging in the nearby ocean.

  He moved on through the water, looking for the Translucent Adept. The man was in a palace that appeared to be made out of water: bricks of water kept firm by magic, forming walls and arches, with beams of water supporting the upper levels. There were large windows with panes of water, and furniture shaped from yet more water.

  Translucent was relaxing, watching a water-mirror in which an image of the isle was reflected. There was Bane sleeping, and Fleta grazing. So their suspicion was correct: they were under constant observation. Probably Translucent could hear their dialogue, too. The Adept had offered sanctuary for Mach and Fleta, and freedom, but had never guaranteed privacy. He did not interfere with their activities, but he knew of them, in every detail he cared to.

  But watching the Adept watch the isle would not accomplish anything. Bane wanted to know the exact plans of the Adverse Adepts, so that his father could counter them specifically. He could not depend on overhearing significant conversations; he had to find records or other indications.

  There seemed to be no records. Whatever Translucent knew or planned was in his head. That was a place Bane could not go.

  His spying effort here was a failure. He could not even be sure that Translucent was planning any treachery; the limited evidence was that the other Adepts were planning it, for the time when Translucent’s more liberal policy of accommodation failed.

  He passed the Adept again—and discovered that the water-screen had changed its picture. Now the Tan Adept was on it, talking to Translucent.

  “…she’ll be there tomorrow afternoon,” the senior Tan was saying.

  “I like this not,” Translucent answered. “I gave mine oath, and I mean to break it not.”

  “An they be truly the rovot and the ‘corn, with their triple Thee, she will have no power o’er them,” Tan said. “An they be the other pair, thine oath applies not. My daughter can capture Bane, then, and the whole of it be ours.”

  “I yield to thee on this point only to establish their legitimacy,” Translucent said, obviously irritated. “Thereafter, I want interference not from thee. There be a smell about this I like not.”

  “Agreed.” The Tan Adept faded out.

  So he had gained some information anyway! Tania was coming here tomorrow, to verify whether it was the right couple on the isle. The Adepts’ suspicion had been aroused, so now they were checking. Translucent was hewing to the letter of his word, and Bane respected him for that, but the man had to allow this test.

  Bane did not want Tania to try her evil eye on him. He could counter it only by the full exercise of his own magic—and that would give away his identity on the spot, because Mach had only clumsy powers of magic. But if he did not counter her, he would fall prey to her, and that would be worse. They were in trouble!

  He returned to his body. He had less than a day to figure out a way to pass this challenge.

  He pondered for a while, and drifted off to sleep. He could not talk to Fleta, knowing he was being watched; he had to act completely naturally.

  In the morning Fleta changed back to girlform and approached him for a kiss, as she would have done with Mach. “What news?” she whispered.

  He nuzzled her ear. “We be watched, as we thought. Today Tania comes to test us.”

  “The e’il eye!” she breathed, tickling his ear. “I like that not!”

  “Mach’s triple Thee would be proof against it. But we be the wrong partners; that oath exists not between us.”

  She drew back her head. “Not before breakfast, thou sex fiend!” she exclaimed. “Give me leave to think on’t.”

  He let her go. How cleverly she answered him, without arousing suspicion!

  They foraged for breakfast, and this time she remained in girlform and ate with him. As they finished, she leaned toward him. He caught the hint and grabbed her for another kiss. It would not do to have Translucent realize that only Fleta initiated such activity.

  “Canst leave before?” she whispered.

  He had thought of that, and rejected it. They were theoretically here so that they could love each other without restraint, in perfect security and comfort. They would not depart except for good reason—and they weren’t supposed to have any notion of the impending visit. “Would give us away,” he replied.

  She wriggled away from his grasp. “Not before wash-up!” she protested.

  Bane managed to convert a smile to a grimace. Any watcher would be convinced that he was constantly trying to get her into sex, while she was endlessly coquettish. Despite his knowledge of her rationale, he found himself responding, wanting her in the manner she pretended he did. Pretense of this nature could be treacherous!

  They washed up at a freshwater spring on the isle. It was amazing how Translucent had set this up! They stripped, setting their apparel out of harm’s way. Fleta insisted on washing him, using her hands to splash the water on him and to rub him down. Naturally she brought him to arousal. This was not entirely mischief on her part; Mach would have reacted exactly this way.

  “I think there be only one way to deceive Tania,” she whispered as she gaily splashed water at his eyes and ears. “We must be amidst it as she comes.”

  “But that be only sex!” he protested. “Her power could still move me.”

  “Why use it, an she sees how true we be to each other?”

  And that just might be the answer. Magic was not cheap for any practitioner. Tania could only use a particular variant of her evil eye on a particular person once. She would not care to waste it on a subject likely to be immune—as Mach would be, because of his absolute love for Fleta. The triple Thee, vindicated as it was said his had been, could not be overridden; indeed, it had overridden Adept magic itself. So if Tania were satisfied that she saw Mach, she would let him pass unchallenged.

  He had known that he would have to make love to Fleta, and had felt his mixed guilt about that. Now he realized that he would have to do it for an audience, and make it thoroughly convincing. His mission, and perhaps his freedom, depended on it.

  “Aye,” he whispered.

  She wrestled herself away, managing in the process to slide her slippery breasts almost the full length of his body. “Nay, Mach! Not till we be at the proper place!”

  What a tease she was! Surely Translucent, if he were watching at this moment, was chuckling.

  So it continued through the morning, Fleta always putting him off on one pretext or a
nother, he always yielding with decent grace. Then it was time for lunch, and then for a nap, she claimed. But she kissed him, and whispered in his ear: “Canst see her coming, now? Needs must we know exactly when.”

  He nodded. He fashioned a partial shelter from boughs and ferns so that the sun would hot burn him, though its light was filtered through the water above the dome and really was not fierce. Then he lay down for his “nap” and used a variant spell to separate his spirit again. He floated out to Translucent’s water-brick house—and there she was already! In only a few minutes she would be at the isle.

  He hurried back to his body. How lucky that Fleta had had him check!

  He stretched as if waking. Then he reached out and caught Fleta by the arm. “Damn it, filly—you have been teasing me all day!” he exclaimed. “Now you are going to get it!”

  “Now?” she asked, her eyes nicking about as if searching.

  “Any minute now,” he agreed. “Just let me get that cloak off you!”

  “Nay!” she protested, laughing. “That were too brief a nap!”

  “The hell with the nap!” he exclaimed, rather enjoying the Proton mode of swearing; it had a certain magic of its own. He wrestled with her, pulling ineffectively at her clothing.

  “O, here, thou’lt ruin it,” she complained. She drew off her cloak herself. Then she undressed him.

  But when he sought to embrace her, she resisted. “Thou didst teach me thy way, remember,” she said. “Not like my way, for when I be in heat and care not what member be in me, so long as I be bred. Slow, and with love.”

  She was still stalling, for Tania had not yet shown up. But she was also correct: he had to play this scene convincingly, and that meant that sex was only part of it.

  He looked into her eyes. “I love you,” he said. There was no ripple around them, of course; this was a line from a play. In fact, this was very like a game in the Tourney of Proton, in which the participants had to emulate a scene of perfect love-making. It was an open question whether two players ever got into such a match randomly.