He had assumed that the cleaning alcove would employ sonics, but this seemed not to. Instead there were handles whose purpose was opaque. This, too, had been omitted from his training: the details of variations of human hygienic devices. He hesitated just to turn the handles, lest he misuse the equipment.
“Excuse me,” he said. “I don’t wish to interrupt your entertainment, but I am unfamiliar with this mechanism.”
“They don’t have showers on Planet Grenadier?” she asked, surprised.
“They have sonic cleaners. Do you mean you clean with water?”
“Sure.” she said, bouncing off the bed. “Why not? It’s recycled. You turn on the water here—“ She reached past him to work a handle. Water blasted down from the ceiling, startling him. It was hot, but not unpleasantly so. “And soap here.” She worked another handle, and got a handful of foam. “Then you just spread it on and rinse it off, like this.” She smeared the foam on his chest.
“But you are also getting wet!” he protested.
“Well, I need to get clean too. Do you mind?”
“Of course not. It is your chamber. But—“
“You can soap me, then.” She guided his hand to the foam spout, and he got a handful of the frothy stuff.
He smeared it on her shoulders and back and breasts, and she covered him similarly, while the water descended on them both. She reached around him to massage his back, in the process pressing in close and slippery. His hands slid down to the same buttocks he had contemplated before. They had been visually intriguing; now they were tactilely intriguing.
“Is it permissible to reconsider?” he inquired.
“It’s too late to skip the shower!” she cried, laughing.
“About indulging in copulatory activity. It occurs to me that this occasion might after all be suitable.”
“I thought it might,” she murmured, satisfied. Then she reached up and hauled in his head for a wet and steamy kiss.
Belatedly he realized that this had been her intent throughout. She was an expressive, open woman, and she liked full interaction. She had known the human condition better than he; not only was their sexual encounter feasible, it was quite positive. His reservations about the human form faded away; this was a human body, and this activity was natural for it.
Finally, both clean and sated, they emerged to lie on her bed and watch the show. He followed her cues, and began laughing when she did. Soon enough his mind followed, and he found himself genuinely enjoying it.
In due course they slept. But he woke in the night, discovering that she was stroking his body. There was a certain art to it, and before long it occurred to him that another episode of sexual interaction might be appropriate. So it turned out to be.
In the morning she woke him again, kissing him and rubbing her body against his suggestively. She was evidently interested in yet another copulatory encounter. “About this time, most men begin to get tired of me,” she said. “Are you tired?”
“Not yet,” he said. He regarded this as excellent experience.
Later in the day she showed him how actually to play the game. “There are these consoles,” she explained, approaching one. “We stand on opposite sides, and it has a grid. Or it used to, before the mergence. Now sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn’t.”
“The rules have changed?”
“Not exactly. I mean, the grids shift a little each year, and sometimes the numbers are down the side, and new games get added and old ones subtracted, but that’s routine. But now it’s really different. Maybe I can show you.”
Perplexed, he stood opposite her. Before him was a screen, on which was a diagram.
PRIMARY GRID
1. PHYSICAL 2. MENTAL 3. CHANCE 4. ART
A. NAKED B. TOOL C. MACHINE D. ANIMAL
“Ah, I believe I follow,” he said. Actually, he had been trained in this type of grid, and knew it well, but he preferred to let her have the pleasure of showing him. It might even turn out that she would have some pleasant surprises for him, as she had during the night. It would take a phenomenal effort to convince himself that she was an unappealing creature, physically, now that he had indulged in the human copulatory ritual. She did seem to feel that there was something special about this game. “One person selects a number, and the other a letter, and where the two intersect defines the nature of the game to be played. Or am I mistaken?”
“Not exactly,” she repeated. “I mean, that’s how it’s played, yes, only sometimes it doesn’t work. You’ll see, maybe.”
“Then let’s play it,” he said. He saw that the numbers were highlighted for him, so he touched 3. CHANCE. She would have no chance against him in any ordinary game, so this was the only fair way, as it largely negated skill.
“I’m choosing A. NAKED,” she said, touching her screen.
“But are you supposed to tell me? I thought the point was that the choices are hidden until the result is manifest.” Indeed, that was the essence of gaming: the hidden strategy and counterstrategy.
“Well-“
She broke off, and he saw why. Instead of highlighting the 3A box, the screen was flashing words. SOME TALK OF ALEXANDER, AND SOME OF HERCULES; OF HECTOR AND LYSANDER, AND SUCH GREAT NAMES AS THESE. GOOD MORNING, LYSANDER! HAVE YOU MADE ANY RECENT CONQUESTS?
He looked over the console at Alyc. “This is a joke?” he asked, uncertain whether to laugh.
“Not exactly,” she said. Her cheeks showed a becoming hint of a flush. “I mean, I didn’t do it. It’s the Game Computer.”
“The computer recognizes me?” But obviously it did, using the ubiquitous sensors of Proton. It was already talking again.
LYSANDER: NAVAL AND MILITARY COMMANDER OF SPARTA, WHO ENDED THE PELOPONNESIAN WAR IN 405 B.C. BY DESTROYING THE ATHENIAN FLEET AND REDUCING ATHENS TO A SECOND-RATE POWER.
“I am no military commander!” Lysander protested. But he wondered: could the computer know of his true mission?
LYSANDER: A CHARACTER IN SHAKESPEARE’S MIDSUMMER NIGHTS DREAM WHO FALLS IN LOVE WITH HERMIA, WHO FLEES WITH HIM TO THE WOODS IN ORDER TO AVOID MARRIAGE TO HER FATHER’S CHOICE OF MEN. HAVE YOU TAKEN A WOMAN TO THE WOODS, LYSANDER?
“Well, actually she took me,” he said. “Her name was Belle, and she was a unicorn. She spoke to me musically on her horn, telling me of the recent history of the planet and the mating of ‘rovots’ and the unwelcomeness of goblins. But she had no human form.”
YOU ARE PLAYING CAT AND MOUSE WITH ME, LYSANDER. THEREFORE I GIVE YOU THE GAME OF FOX AND GEESE. DO YOU KNOW IT? A pattern appeared, showing thirty-three dark circles arranged in lines of three and seven.
“I know it. But this is not the type of game we selected.”
IT IS CLOSE ENOUGH. REPORT TO THE GAME CHAMBER SHOWN BY THE BLUE LINE. A line appeared on the floor, leading away from the console.
“See?” Alyc asked. “It does what it wants. It won’t let us play any game but the one it chooses for us.”
“Intriguing. Do you think the magic affected it?”
“It must have. Now it’s a self-willed machine.”
“Well, let’s see what it’s like. Do you prefer to be the fox or the geese?”
“I have no choice. It marked you the fox.”
“Oh. I hadn’t noticed. Very well, I’ll play the fox. You have played the game before?”
“Yes, it’s fun, the way it’s set up. Only I don’t like the way other women cut in.”
“Women cut in? Are we talking about the same game? This should be a board, with marbles—“
“You’ll see.”
Something was definitely askew. Lysander shut up and followed the blue line.