She had to cling to the faint hope that this was possible. But her dread was that it was not.
Then at last Bane arrived. He appeared just beyond the moat and called out: “Anybody home?”
The two of them went out to meet him. Agape did not have to say a word; she stepped into his embrace.
He entered the castle with them, and had news of his own. “The Adverse Adepts be preparing for war. I spied on them and verified it; they be organizing their minions, the goblins and demons, ready to take by force what they may not accomplish by negotiation. They mean to have me join them, and to use thee as a lever against me, as the Contrary Citizens did.”
“I know,” Agape said. “I am not safe here either.”
“I would have come for thee sooner, but it be tricky spying on Adepts, and they were far more watchful than I expected. But news came to me that thou wast with Trool, and I knew thou wouldst be safe there.”
“I was.” It was so good to be with him again!
“But we must exchange thee back, and get thee to thy home planet! I love thee, and would not have thee taken hostage. I will visit thee on Moeba, later, when I exchange.”
“But we are going together!” she exclaimed.
“Nay. First must thou exchange, and I not, for there be much for me to do yet here. But ne’er doubt I will join thee when I can, nor Adepts nor frames will hinder me.”
He continued talking, reassuringly, but Agape hardly paid attention. She just hugged him forever.
Chapter 8 Tourney
A serf hurried toward her. “I am empowered by my employer to take you to—”
The Ladder screen blinked. Then its speaker spoke: “This serf has qualified for the Tourney. Until disqualified, Serf Fleta is ineligible for reassignment.”
The serf’s brow furrowed. “But Citizen Tan says—”
So Tan had caught up to her—just too late!
“The Citizen has no authority over the Tourney,” the speaker said.
The serf stepped forward, reaching for Fleta’s arm. “He won’t take no for an—”
There was a flash. The serf staggered, evidently jolted by something. “Interference in the Tourney is not tolerated,” the speaker said. “Serf Fleta to report to Game accommodations until further notice. Follow the line.”
“Yes, sir,” Fleta murmured, awed. The Adepts of Proton-frame did not mince words or actions!
The line led to a small residential chamber, complete with a screen and food machine. The door panel clicked behind her, and she realized that she was confined.
She was suddenly alarmed. Could the Contrary Citizens have tricked her again, and led her to—?
Then the screen came on. “Don’t worry, Fleta,” Mach’s voice said.
She whirled to face it. There he was, back in his normal guise. Still, it was only a picture, and she was coming to distrust those. “How do I know—”
He smiled. “When we first met, in Phaze, I was rescued from the swamp by a unicorn. She took me to a dead volcano crater, where I encountered a lovely young woman. It took me some time to realize that the two were the same, and that I was in love with an animal. But of course I was only a machine myself.” He eyed her body. “It is almost as difficult to realize now that this stranger is that same bubbly nymph whose foal I mean to sire, when we return to Phaze.”
It was Mach, all right! “I qualified for the Tourney!” she exclaimed gladly.
“I know. So you are being confined until it starts, so that no one can get at you. Now you can revert to your own girlform, and I will join you soon.”
“They are not watching you?”
“They are watching me, but I am not in danger. They lost their chance when they lost you.”
“Then we need fear them no longer?”
He grimaced. “Not so. They have our cooperation, in Phaze; we resist them here only because we are standing in lieu of Bane and Agape. Similarly Bane and Agape in Phaze may have a different status; the Adverse Adepts may be trying to capture them and convert them now. We must preserve their independence, by protecting yours. It’s a funny situation, but this is the way I interpret the truce. In Proton we are against the Citizens, until the situation changes, if it does.”
“I wish we were against the Adverse Adepts, too,” she said.
“Had Bane’s folks only been able to accept our love—”
“They want an heir,” she said.
“And they shall have it!” he said. “I have been thinking about that, and researching genetics here in Proton. I believe the Book of Spells now in the Red Adept’s possession will have information on the magical meshing of species, and I am going to research there the moment I return.”
“Then willst thou need not to support the Adverse Adepts!” she exclaimed, lapsing into her natural dialect.
“That does not follow. We made a deal, and I must deliver what I promised, unless the truce is modified. But perhaps the objectives of Stile and the Adepts are not mutually exclusive. If we could somehow forge a compromise—”
“A compromise!” she repeated. “A mating of their differing desires!”
“Yes. Therein lies our true hope. Now you get some rest; I have further research to do before I join you.”
“Do thy research!” she exclaimed, gladly. “An it mean our foal—”
“This is one advantage of exchanging between the frames,” he said. “I have the advantage of pursuing both lines of research. If I can’t see it through, I doubt anyone else can.”
Then he faded out, and she, relieved, melted onto the bed and slept, feeling exhilarated.
There were no challenges in the two days. Mach joined her, and now they were free of the need to hide or to conceal their identities; they had found temporary sanctuary here at the Game Annex. Now, for the first time, they were able to make love in these other bodies.
Then she learned that Mach had not really been talking to her, before their physical reunion. He had set up what he called a responsive emulation. “Damn thee!” she cried, furious at this deception. It had fooled her completely.
“But I could not approach you,” he protested. “It would have been dangerous for you. Then I had some trouble, so I went to Moeba.”
Curiosity caused her to rein her fury for the moment. “Agape’s planet? What did you there?” And by the time he explained, she had decided to forgive him.
“So when Bane returns, my research may help him,” he concluded.
“I like Phaze better,” Fleta said.
“So do I,” he agreed. Then he looked at her, becoming grave. “We have been assuming that we will return together. But if you wash out of the Tourney, and go to Moeba, will exchange be possible for you?”
She was stricken. “If I be not with thee, and they two together, how can we exchange?”
“I think we cannot. Therefore we must be sure that all four are together. If not, we must not exchange.”
“We cannot search for them, as we did in Phaze,” she said. “Needs must I remain in the Annex.”
“Yes, they must come to us. But when Bane contacts me, I will make this clear.”
“Aye.” She pondered a moment more. “Meanwhile, methinks I had best stay here until then. I must win my games.”
“Fleta, you are not trained in the games! You were lucky, and your opponents were selected, for the qualifying ladder. The Tourney is different; you will be up against experienced players, each of whom is desperate to win.”
“And I lose thee, and Phaze, if I lose. I too be desperate to win,” she said quietly.
“I’d better drill you in strategy.”
“Aye.”
So for most of their waking time, he indoctrinated her in the ways of the Tourney, trying to prepare her for a competent performance. The object was not to win the Tourney and become a Citizen, but to remain uneliminated long enough for Bane and Agape to come and make the exchange.