Bane was the basilisk, and Mach the dragon. Now the basilisk could glare forward—but the dragon could not be stunned from the rear, only from the front. Impasse, again.
But the dragon snagged a claw on a root, and stumbled. The basilisk almost caught up, but still could not get a line on the head, because of the mass of the serpentine body. They plunged on.
This was the last circuit; if Mach could survive the next two media, he would make it through, and win. But Bane was now within chomping distance. The next medium was the lake, and he would be the siren; she could charm from behind, because it was her voice that did it. Deep in the water, that voice would be distorted, but actual contact would undistort it. Touch the tail of the serpent, sing—and the serpent would be charmed into destruction.
The dragon dodged to the side, sideswiping a stout tree by the inverted bank, and lunged ahead. Bane, much smaller, gained time by making a leap to the water. He sailed surprisingly high.
And, in midair, he saw the dragon whip its tail around the tree. Its body reacted like rope; it snapped about, smacking against the other side of the tree.
Then Bane landed in the water, and became the siren. He was ready; he had actually gotten in ahead of the other!
And Mach did not follow.
Then Bane realized that he had been tricked. Mach had let him come deceptively close—and balked. Bane had been tricked into the one-way transformation, and could not return. He could not make the circuit, lapping his opponent, as he had tried to do before; he would be out of the game, because he would have gone through every form in every medium. All he could do was wait for the other to come through—and the other would never do so, now. It was an impasse—and that meant victory for Mach, because he had not been, and could not be caught.
Bane had lost the game, and the round. The very closeness of his pursuit had done him in, denying him the reaction time he needed to stay clear of the lake. Mach had won by using his mind.
Bane experienced relief. He knew that he had done his utmost, only to be caught by a trick that would have surprised all the watchers too. He had lost with honor. But there was one more round to go. Nothing had been decided yet.
Chapter 15 Table
Mach stood at the console. He had the numbers, so he chose 1. PHYSICAL; he trusted that more than the others. Bane chose B. TOOL, evidently not trusting NAKED after his loss in the Chase. The truth was, that had been a very near thing; had Mach’s desperate ruse not worked, Bane could easily have won, and finished the match.
He had the letters on the subgrid. He chose H. H2O, having found that general-surface category compatible the last time. Bane chose 6. INTERACTIVE.
The square opened out, and the list of games appeared; a number of ball games wherein more than a ball was used, such as tennis, Jai alai and bowling, so that they wound up in this catchall grouping; water games like pedal-boat bumping and underwater volleyball (wherein the ball had to be propelled under the net); and string-ball games such as tetherball.
They assembled the nine-box grid, and played it, and came up with what each was evidently well satisfied to play: table tennis. There were several variants; Trool consulted with the Oracle, with Mach and Bane relaying the messages, and decided on three variants, one for each game. The first game would be standard, with identical equipment on both sides. The second would be freestyle, which meant the individual paddles could be of any type. The third was to be doublet, generally considered to be the most formidable challenge of a player’s capacities.
Mach was familiar with them all, and good at them all. But Bane now had his expertise, as well as the sureness of the machine body. Could Mach, in this fallible living body, match that? He doubted it. Therefore his month’s training would be critical. He had to come up with strategy and skill that could defeat the person he had been in Proton.
Meanwhile, there was the separate challenge of enabling the games to be played. Trool and the Oracle had made the chess games work, and the chase games; but table tennis was a physically interactive game of another nature. How could they hit a ball across the barrier between the frames? He was sure it would somehow be arranged, though.
He turned to look at the Translucent Adept. “Who are the best players of this game?” he inquired.
Translucent scowled. “Stile, and certain vampires in manform. We be hoist again.”
“I have to find players better than I am, who can teach me things, and drill me in new techniques.”
“We have resources, but thou mayst like them not.”
“It doesn’t matter whether I like them! I can’t win unless I improve significantly, and even then the outcome will be in doubt, because Bane will improve too, and he won’t make errors.”
“Aye, thou must practice,” Fleta agreed. “There be naught distasteful in that.”
“One who can show thee much be Tania.”
Fleta’s ears flattened back, though she was in girlform. “That creature has shown thee already too much!” Mach had to smile, though he too was startled. “No, that was Bane she showed,” he said.
“When he were emulating thee!” she returned, as if that made Mach culpable. “And in Proton-frame—”
“But it was Tan who was making you—”
“So Tannu be bad for me, and Tania for thee!”
Translucent nodded grimly. “I realize that neither of you be partial to those of the Tan Demesnes. But Tania alone has what thou dost require.”
“What has that harpy that I do not?” Fleta demanded, one hand bunching and moving as if to paw the ground.
“A magic paddle.”
Mach’s interest quickened. “A magic paddle? To play table tennis?”
“Aye. It be a rare device, that she charmed from an elven craftsman of the carbon clan. Methinks thou must in turn charm it from her.”
“O’er my dead carcass!” Fleta snorted.
But Mach was already dazzled by the notion. “A magic paddle, of elven craftsmanship! That would be something very special!”
“Aye. So do thou come to terms with thy filly, and I will make arrangements for thee to visit the Tan Demesnes.”
Fleta did not seem to be in any mood to come to terms. “This may take a while,” Mach muttered.
It did. Unicorns were known to be stubborn creatures, and Fleta showed her mettle in this respect. She did not want Mach going near Tania! But finally he persuaded her that if he did not take advantage of every opportunity to improve his game, he would lose, and then the two of them would be separated. “But the only reason I yield,” she said grudgingly, “be because she be also in Proton, and I would be not there to safeguard thee from her clutches.”
“Good reasoning,” he said, relieved.
But it was not easy, when they went to the Tan Demesnes. Fleta insisted on carrying him there herself, in her natural form, theoretically to save his magic for more important things, but he suspected she was motivated more by the extra time it took this way.
Tania was resplendent in a fluffy tan cotton dress that fitted closely about her torso. Her hair was tied back with a tan ribbon and bow, and her feet looked tiny in tan slippers.
The grass here was excellent, but Fleta was not about to change back to unicorn form and graze.
Tania smiled brilliantly, flouncing her hem so that a petticoat flashed. “How nice to see thee, Mach! Hast come to play a game with a real woman?” Mach heard something like a squeal in the back of Fleta’s throat.
“A game of table tennis,” he said carefully. “The Translucent Adept said you have a magic paddle.”