But the Game Computer was complex and canny. It seemed to have borrowed something from the Oracle, which was a self willed machine whose ultimate motives were at best uncertain. Lysander needed to learn more about both of these, because both were integral to the functioning of the planetary society, and could generate significant problems for the occupying force;-after the conquest. He asked to see the source code for the game-, grid program, but it seemed that this was sealed off, to prevent any possible cheating. He had to figure it out from the field, as it were.
He played game after game, exhausting Alyc’s patience. “You’re a gameoholic!” she complained.
“You have me dead to rights,” he confessed. “But at least I am working for Citizen Blue while I indulge my fell appetite. I am searching for some pattern that will offer an insight into the change in the Game Computer. It isn’t in the circuitry; it has to be in some interaction between the program and the magic of Phaze. Something that makes the machine not only conscious, but independent. I think it must be a tricky kind of feedback—“
“Yes, yes, I know; your specialty. Let’s make love.”
“That is an attractive counteroffer,” he said. He had learned the code terms: “making love” meant copulation.
They retired to her chamber. He had by this time lasted longer with Alyc than any of her prior boyfriends, and he knew why: he wanted no disruption in his relation with Citizen Blue’s household. That was the center of the governance of the planet, and the likely center of any resistance to the conquest. As long as he remained with Alyc, that association was secure. But it was also true that once he had attuned himself to the sexual activity of the human body, it was a pleasant enough diversion. Serfs were treated to eliminate any chance of disease or conception, so sex was free. Those who wished to marry and have offspring had to petition their employers, who might or might not grant them the treatment that enabled conception. Neither Lysander nor Alyc (or, as the Phaze forms would put it, nor Lysander neither Alyc) wanted that, so were content with the normal indulgence. Actually he, as an android, was infertile anyway. So if she wanted it twice a day, he was satisfied to oblige. He gave all other women short shrift, which further pleased Alyc.
Thus his life settled in, for a month—until the investment.
6 - Hectare
It happened with stunning swiftness. Lysander and Alyc were in the Game Annex, between games, about to punch a beverage from the food dispenser. Jod’e approached. “May I join you?” she inquired, politely enough.
Alyc, having long since ascertained that Lysander had no sexual interest in Jod’e, was amenable to her company. It served to show every serf on the premises that she, Alyc, had nothing to fear from even the most beautiful competition. Jod’e had more of a taste for games than Alyc did, so often played them with Lysander, whose interest was insatiable. So the three of them were about to drink—when the announcement blared from all the speakers.
“This is Citizen Blue. An alien fleet has surrounded the planet without warning. It has the capacity to destroy all life and industry here. We have no choice but to yield to superior force. Hold your places for superior force. Hold your places for the announcement by the Coordinator of the Hectare.”
Jod’e stared at them, astonished. “Can this be a joke?”
“No joke,” Alyc said. Her face was assuming a more serious mien, unsurprising in the circumstance.
After a moment a harsh, computer simulated voice spoke.
“The Planet Proton is within the sector controlled by Alliance forces. Investment by the Hectare is proceeding. The following personnel will report to the central concourse for internment: all Citizens, Adepts, and government functionaries. If in doubt, report. Any eligible personnel who fail to report will be declared surplus. All interested in serving the new regime in a supervisory capacity report to the Game Annex. All others will proceed about normal business until directed otherwise. There will be minimal disruption.”
“Report for internment?” Jod’e said. There was a murmur all around; the other serfs were as amazed and confused.
“Exactly,” Alyc said. Now her bearing had changed completely; she was no longer the enthusiastic, slightly low intellect serf. “I am an agent of the Hectare, sent to perform advance reconnaissance. I will identify all the members of the leading Citizen’s household and family and see that they are apprehended. I advise you, Jod’e, to volunteer for service in the new regime; the Hectare will find compatible use for all who do volunteer.”
Jod’e shook her head. “I am amazed! I never figured you for a traitor, Alyc! I’m not about to become one myself. I’ll take my chances with the old order.”
Alyc shrugged. “As you wish.” She turned to Lysander. “But you, I am sure, are more sensible. You have expertise that the Hectare can use as readily as the Citizens could; the Hectare are game fanatics, and will want to correct the Game Computer malfunction promptly. I can guarantee you an excellent position—and it hardly needs clarifying that you will remain my paramour.”
Lysander was astonished. He had never imagined that Alyc could be a Hectare agent! But she was not the type of agent he was. His duty required a response she would neither understand nor appreciate.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s been fun with you, Alyc. But though I have been here only a month, I have come to respect this culture for what it is, and I shall not betray it to any alien usurper.” That was an outright lie, required by his mission. But what followed was the truth. “Had I known you were an enemy agent, I would have turned you in at the outset. You fooled me, and I am disgusted.”
“The Hectare do not employ incompetent agents,” she said. “The longer you take to change your mind, the less advantageous it will be for you.”
“I’ll take that chance,” he said, rising from the table.
Jod’e rose with him. “I think we had better vacate the premises quickly,” she said.
“It will make no difference,” Alyc said. “If the Hectare want either of you. they will find you and take you. But it will be better for those who volunteer.”
Why was she so sure? She was correct that the first and most sincere volunteers would be treated best; she, as one of the very earliest, would have her pick of lovers, so she didn’t need him. But she acted as if he himself would be rounded up immediately, when that was obviously impractical. Lysander didn’t have time to ponder; he wanted to get well away from her and this region. Already the serfs were milling, as the majority sought to get out before they were mistaken for volunteers.
He did not look at Alyc again. He had been true to her, but in a devious fashion he felt she had not been true to him. This was a foolish sentimentality, for she had offered him a good position in the new order. He had evidently assimilated more of the local culture than he realized.
Lysander and Jod’e joined the throng crowding toward the nearest exit. “I don’t like this,” he muttered. “Suddenly there’s an alien takeover, and we’re supposed to cooperate?” He was saying what he knew was on the minds of most serfs, testing her for reaction. It had occurred to him that Jod’e had been conveniently close—indeed, had been close to him throughout. Had she known this was coming? If so, what was her purpose?
“She worked for Citizen Blue,” Jod’e said. “It won’t be safe for you to go there. I can help you get outside.”