"And perhaps aliens too," she agreed. "Now the rationale behind my own participation becomes clear. I was not informed by my own planetary authorities; I 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 to 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 any 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."
"Alternative self? Is this an aspect of human existence?"
Mach smiled. "In a manner. Most residents of Proton have an analog in the sister-frame of Phaze, wherein science is supposed to be inoperative and magic is operative. I find this difficult to credit, but my father claims it is so, and I am not programmed to believe him to be in error. It is at any rate academic, as there is no access to Phaze."
Agape brightened. "A human myth!" she exclaimed. "A thing known to be untrue, but believed regardless."
"That seems to be a reasonable view of the matter," he agreed.
"Do you, a machine, have any desire for the future?"
"None that can be realized."
"But perhaps a myth? A hope you would possess if it were reasonable?"
"I would desire to be alive," Mach said.
"Yet you are not, and can never be."
"Therefore it is pointless to desire it," he concluded.
Again she gazed at him in her somewhat disconcertingly alien manner. "I think that I shall now be able to exist in this society. I thank you for your assistance. Perhaps at some point I may be able to render you a similar favor of comprehension."
"There is no need."
They stood and left the booth.
"Ha!" a young woman cried, spotting them. She had hair that was almost orange, that flounced about her shoulders as she moved. "So it's true!"
Mach knew that he was in for a difficult scene. "Doris, allow me to explain-" he began.
"Shut in a booth with another woman!" she flared. "With the privacy curtain in place! I don't need any explanation for that!"
"But we weren't doing anything," he protested. "Agape required assistance-"
"I can guess what kind!" Doris cried, eying Agape's torso. "Just couldn't wait to get your hands on some alien flesh, could you!"
"I do not understand," Agape said. "Have I committed an error of protocol?"
"Protocol!" Doris said. "Is that what you call it? Melting in his arms?"
"She didn't-" Mach began.
"I did melt," Agape agreed. "But not for his arms."
"Don't tell me for what part of him you melted!" Doris cried. She whirled to confront Mach. "And I thought I was your girl! You're just like any other male! The moment you see a chance to grab something new-"
"You misunderstand-" Mach said.
"Not anymore! You and I are through!"
"Please listen," Mach said, reaching out to her. "I never-"
Doris stepped in and slapped him resoundingly on the cheek. "Don't lie to me, metal-heart!"
By this time a small crowd had gathered to admire the proceedings. One young man stepped up. "Is this machine bothering you, Doris?"
"Stay out of this, Ware!" Mach snapped, allowing his emotional circuits to govern in the human manner. Ware was an android, and Mach had had enough android-sponsored trouble for this day.
"Yeah? Make me!"
Doris' gaze passed from one to the other appraisingly. She was a cyborg, and by all accounts there were ghosts in those machines. A person could never be quite certain what a cyborg would do. "Yes, why don't you make him?" she asked Mach.
She was trying to promote a combat between them! Mach had to head that off, in the interest of species harmony; he knew how his father would react to any such episode.
"The Game," Mach said. "We'll settle this in the Game."
Ware laughed coarsely. "The Game? Why should I bother? Why not just settle it right here?"
Naturally the android didn't care what kind of a scene he made; he had nothing to lose, and perhaps a lot to gain. He had no chance at future Citizenship, because he wasn't the son of a Citizen or an expert Gamesman himself, but he could interfere with Mach's chance-for himself and his kind.
"For a prize," Mach said. "To make it worthwhile."
"What worthwhile prize could you have to offer? You're just a serf, like me!"
Doris smiled. "I'll be the prize," she said. "Winner gets my favor."
"No-" Mach began.
But Ware's eyes were lighting. He had always had a hankering for Doris, but until this moment she had not given him any positive signal. "Good enough! For Doris!" he agreed.
"Can a person be a trophy?" Agape asked, perplexed.
"Why not?" Doris asked with satisfaction. "You were!"
Mach wished he had the circuitry for a human sigh. He would have to put his relationship with Doris, which had been generally a good one, on the line. She was angry with him for insufficient cause, but had found a way to hurt him. He would have to go through with it.
They went to the Game Annex. They stood at opposite grid stations and touched their choices. Mach had the numbers, so selected 2. MENTAL, to nullify the android's advantage of temporary strength and throw it into the android's weakness of intellect. Ware selected B. TOOL, throwing it into the huge general category of tool-assisted mental games. Mach was strong here, so his prospects were brightening.
The subgrid for this category differed from that for the physical games. Mach had the numbers again: 5. SEPARATE, 6. INTERACTIVE, 7. PUZZLE, 8. COOPERATIVE. Ware had the letters: E. BOARD, F. CARDS, G. PAPER, H. GENERAL.
Mach chose 7. PUZZLE, trusting that his wit was quicker than the android's. Ware chose H. GENERAL, which broadened the range of choices.
They filled in the sub-subgrid with various types of mechanical puzzles: jigsaw, matches, string, knots, cube assembly, Rubic cube and a labyrinth. When the final choices were paired, the result was the labyrinth. Well, Mach should be able to solve that faster than the android could.
"Hey, didn't you run that one this morning, Ware?" a bystander called.
"Yeah," Ware replied, satisfied.
Oh-oh. The format of the labyrinth was changed on a daily basis. A player never could know which variant or detail it would have-unless that player had experienced it on the same day. Ware had gotten a major break.
Or had he made his own break, knowing that Mach preferred mental or tool-assisted games, and liked puzzles? Had he somehow planned for this encounter? If so, he was smarter or more determined than Mach had credited.
Still, Mach had run the labyrinth many times, and was familiar with most of its variants. He might not be at as great a disadvantage as he feared. There were interactive properties that could nullify advance knowledge.