Piers Anthony - Adept 04 - Out of Phaze

Content

1 - Mach.2

2 - Fleta.13

3 - Bane.24

4 - Magic.35

5 - Search.47

6 - Revelations.59

7 - Citizen.70

8 - Chase.81

9 - Game.104

10 - Adept123

12 - Apprentice.141

13 - Agape.149

14 - Appeal158

15 - Blue.167

16 - Decision.178

1 - Mach

The two young men dived into the pool. Mach struck the water more precisely and got the lead, but

Rory splashed harder and caught him a third of the way along, then drove ahead for the victory. Panting

and ruddy-faced with his effort, he laughed as Mach finished. “Slowpoke!”

Mach shrugged. He had expected to lose, because his power was produced evenly; he could not put

forth that extra surge of energy for a spot activity. However, neither did he tire; he could maintain a

similar pace indefinitely. Had the race been longer, he would have won.

Rory knew that, of course; it was only the luck of the grid that had given him the victory. He liked to

tease Mach about his supposed unwillingness to try harder. It was his human way, for he was fully

human. Mach was, of course, unhuman in all but form and consciousness.

They shook themselves dry and watched while two girls lined up at the far end of the pool for their own

contest. Both were young and well-formed, with tresses that fell down about their breasts with the

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provocative suggestion of clothing. One waved.

“Hey, I think they’re following us!” Rory exclaimed. “Let’s wait for them!”

“Yes, they collaborated to match our choice of contest,” Mach agreed.

Rory squinted as the two young women dived in, wincing as one made a bad entry. “Android,” he

muttered. “They’re clumsy.”

“Less so than prior generations,” Mach said. “Soon the androids will be up to the human norm in

coordination and intellect.”

“I’d rather have them clumsy and stupid,” Rory said.

“So you can love them and leave them,” Mach agreed. They had been over this before. The human male

was easily aroused, but also easily satisfied. Mach himself could invoke his arousal circuit, and could also

nullify it, but preferred to do neither. He wished that his body could move his mind in the involuntary

natural human fashion, but it never happened.

The girls completed their race and heaved themselves dripping from the pool. The breasts of the android

bounced as she shook herself. The other girl was more diffident, standing somewhat awkwardly, so that

her body did not show to advantage.

“Looking for company?” Rory asked, his eyes traveling up and down the android’s body.

“You’re human, aren’t you?” the android inquired. “I’d like to trade.”

“Favors?” Rory asked, licking his lips.

“Companions.”

Rory nodded. “Sure, why not! Here’s Mach.” He hauled on Mach’s elbow.

“Here’s Agape,” the android said, giving the other girl a little shove. “I’m Narda.”

“I’m Rory. Let’s go somewhere.”

The two walked away, leaving Mach with Agape. He had not sought her company, but found himself

thus abruptly committed.

“I don’t believe I have seen you before,” he said to the girl. Actually, he was sure of it; his memory for

detail was of course infallible.

“I’m new,” she agreed, speaking with an odd accent. “I just arrived yesterday. Narda was showing me

the Game.”

And now Mach was obliged to take over the task the android had been assigned. Well, he really had

nothing better to do. “I will show you whatever you wish, Agape,” he said, carefully pronouncing her

name the way the android had, three syllables with the accent on the first. “But I should advise you at the

outset that I already have a liaison with one of your sex.”

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“My apology if I am violating a custom,” Agape said. “Are liaisons required?”

‘They are not. But sometimes they are expected.” He studied her more closely. “Are you android? You

seem different.”

“I am—alien,” she said. “This is not my natural form. But I was advised that if I wished to participate in

this experiment, it was best to assume it. Have I given offense?”

Alien! No wonder! “No offense.” Mach became more interested as his circuits grappled with the shift of

concept. He had never interacted this closely with a humanoid alien before. The experimental community

consisted of human beings, robots, androids and cyborgs, all in perfect human form, and in the course of

the past year there had been a number of changes as individuals were shifted from one city to another.

The purpose was to create a new, egalitarian society in which no serfs were ghettoized. It seemed to be

working, and now these integrated serfs were being spread about the planet of Proton so as to bring the

enlightened attitude to all. Whether that latest effort was to be successful remained in doubt; the wider

society of Citizens and serfs clung to its prejudices as if they were points in the Tourney.

Now aliens were being included. This was ambitious indeed. Mach perceived the input of his father in

that. Citizen Blue had been laboring for twenty years to revamp the society of Proton, and had

accomplished a great deal. Obviously the effort was not slackening.

“Is my presence a burden to you?” Agape inquired.

“It is not. I was merely assessing the implications.”

“I am concerned that I merge inadequately.”

“This is to be expected at the beginning,” Mach said. “I will show you the premises.”

“This is appreciated.”

He took her through the stations of the Game Annex, explaining how any legitimate resident was free to

play any of the games of the grid. He told her how many serfs, including himself, practiced the Game

diligently, because each year there was a Game Tourney whose winner was granted Citizenship and

became a member of the ruling class. Apparently Narda had simply brought her along without

explanation, and dumped her at the first opportunity. This was not proper behavior, but allowances had

to be made for androids. They tended to be less socially aware than others were.

He brought her to a cubicle and showed her the two panels. “This is the selection mechanism,” he

explained. “You stand at one, and I stand at the other. Each panel presents the primary grid, with the

numbered terms across the top, and the lettered ones down the side. One player chooses from the

numbers, the other from the letters. On my grid the letters are highlighted, so I must choose from them.

On yours it will be the numbers.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “They read ‘1. PHYSICAL, 2. MENTAL, 3. CHANCE, 4. ARTS.’ But I do not

grasp what they mean.”

“You must select one. If you wish to indulge in a physical competition, touch 1. If you prefer mental,

touch 2. I will touch one of mine, and where they intersect will define the nature of our game.”

“How very clever,” she said. “I shall touch the first.”

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“It is not necessary to tell me your choice. It is the mystery of it that provides much of the appeal.” But

since this was only a demonstration, Mach checked his choices of A. NAKED, B. TOOL, C.

MACHINE and D. ANIMAL, and touched B. He was of course a machine himself, but that made no

difference here. Citizen Blue had given the self-willed machines serf status, which meant they could play

the Game.

The square for PHYSICAL/TOOL brightened, then expanded into a new pattern. “This is the

secondary grid,” Mach explained. “It helps to define the tool-assisted physical games. We must choose

again—you from the lettered ones, I from the numbered ones, this time.”

“E. EARTH, F. FIRE, G. GAS, H. H20,” she read. “I don’t believe I understand.”

“They really stand for the type of surface on which the game is to be played,” Mach said. “Flat,

Variable, Discontinuous or Liquid. Some programmer decided to get clever with the letters, matching

them up with words. It is true that the earth is normally a flat surface, and fire forms a variable surface,

and gas is discontinuous if you seek to stand on it, and H2O stands for water, which is a liquid. All you

need be concerned about is the nature of the surface upon which you prefer to play, whether flat, or like

a mountain, or—“

“Thank you,” she said, and touched her choice.

His own choices were 5. SEPARATE, 6. INTERACTIVE, 7. COMBAT and 8. COOPERATIVE. He

touched the second.

The square for FLAT SURFACE/INTERACTIVE brightened. Now the grid became a smaller one of

nine boxes, with a list of terms at the side. “We get to fill in this one ourselves,” he explained. “Choose

any game that you like.”

“I do not know these games,” she protested. “Marbles, earthball, Jett de boules—“

Because she was alien. All the common flat-surface ball games were unknown to her.

“We’ll simplify it,” he said. “We’ll fill the entire subgrid with one game, tiddlywinks. Then I’ll show you

how to play that.”

And so they did. Their selection made, they adjourned to a chamber with a table, and thereon was the

tiddlywinks set. Mach showed her how to make one chip jump when pressured by another, and she was

delighted. They played the game, and he won, but she was quite satisfied. Now she had a notion how

things were done on the Planet of Proton.

They exited the Game Annex. Mach would have preferred to go his own way, but was uncertain how to

dispose of Agape. He had been given a commitment to assist her, and though he knew the basis for that

assignment was largely spurious, he also knew that she needed guidance, and that he was a more

responsible guide than the android Narda had been. Thus he could not let it go as casually as he had

undertaken it.

“Am I now becoming a burden to you, Mach?” she inquired nervously.

“This is true,” he agreed. “But I conclude that I should assist you further, so that you will be able to

handle our society alone.”

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She made an uncertain laugh, as though both the act and the basis for it were novelties. “You are unlike

Narda.”

“She is an android. I am a robot.”

She turned her head to gaze at him with perplexity. “I had assumed you were android or human, like the

others. You resemble those.”

“I am crafted to resemble them, just as you are. But my interior operations are no more human than are

yours.” He spotted a dining region. “Do you wish to eat?”

“That is appealing,” she agreed.

He guided her to one of the food dispensers. “You may describe whatever you wish, and it will craft it

for you,” he said.

“I am incompletely familiar with local custom. Perhaps I should attempt whatever you choose to

consume.”

Mach smiled. “Oh, I don’t have to eat. My power cell takes care of my energy needs.”

“Yes, of course; you are a machine. Perhaps we should dispense with this activity, in that case.”

Mach considered. He suspected that she was hungry, I but so anxious about making an error of custom

that she was afraid to make her own choice. “I can eat,” he said. “I merely do not need to. Suppose I

order nutro-I drink for each of us?”

“My gratitude.” Indeed, she was almost fawning. He placed the order, and in a moment they had two tall

containers of the beverage, complete with straws. “Is it permissible to be private?” she asked.

“Certainly.” He showed the way to a booth, and the curtain closed about them, cutting off all sight and

sound I of the remainder of the dining alcove.

Mach sipped his drink, using the straw. Agape hesitated. “It is a matter of generating a partial vacuum in

the mouth,” he explained. “That causes the pressure of the air to push the fluid up through the straw.”

“My concern is not of that nature,” she said. “I am an alien, amoebic in nature. I can maintain the human

form for ordinary pursuits, but am unable to do so for imbibation. I am concerned that my mode of

assimilation would be a social indiscretion in your presence.”

“I will of course leave the booth if you prefer,” Mach said. “But I am scientifically interested in your

biology, and I am not subject to annoyance because of differing modes of operation.”

Still she hesitated. “Narda termed it ‘gross,’ I believe that is why she preferred to separate herself from

me.”

Androids were notorious for their crudities of behavior and humor. What could Narda have found

gross? “Please be reassured, Agape. I am a machine. I have no emotion not programmed, and even

those can be evoked or revoked at will. Nothing you might do would dismay me.”

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“You are certain?”

“I am certain.”

“Then I shall assimilate this material.”

She put her hands to the container and stretched it wide, so that it gradually reformed into a broad,

shallow dish. Mach had known how malleable the material was, as the empty containers were normally

compacted into balls and rolled into the recycling hopper, but he had never before seen a person reform

one while it was full of fluid.

Now she leaned forward, bringing her head directly over the dish. Her features melted, the nose, eyes,

ears and mouth disappearing. Her head receded into her neck, and her breasts lifted to join it, forming a

single globular mass above the table. This mass flattened and descended until it covered the full dish. The

flesh dipped into the beverage.

In the course of the next few minutes the beverage disappeared, absorbed into the pancake-shaped

mass of flesh. The amoeba was assimilating nourishment in the fashion of its kind.

Then the mass lifted, forming another glob. The glob stretched out, narrowing to form the neck, bulging

below to fashion breasts, and shaping gradually back into the human features above. The configuration he

recognized as Agape returned, features clean, eyes and mouth closed.

The eyes opened, and then the mouth. “Do you wish to depart my presence now?” she asked.

“No. I find your process of assimilation fascinating.”

“It is not gross to you?”

“It is educational to me. I appreciate being shown it.”

She looked at him without further comment. He remembered to resume work on his own drink.

“If I may inquire without offense,” she said, “how is it that you, a machine, have been crafted in human

form? I have seen other machines in other forms, suited to their tasks.”

“I am what is known as a humanoid robot. I have been crafted to resemble a living human being as

closely as is feasible, in both the physical and mental states. It is part of my father’s effort to integrate the

self-willed machines into the society of Proton. If humanoid ones can be successful at this, then the

nonhumanoid ones can follow.”

“But do not human beings grow from small creatures formed within the bodies of their parents? Surely

you have a maker, not a father.”

“I have a father and a mother,” Mach said firmly. “My father is Citizen Blue, an immigrant from the frame

of Phaze. My mother is Sheen, a female robot. It is possible for a female robot to be implanted with a

human egg-cell that can be fertilized internally by a human male, and for her to nourish that cell in the

laboratory of her body and birth it in the human fashion, becoming a surrogate mother to his child. But

Sheen elected not to be modified to accommodate this; she preferred to have a robot baby, like herself.

Therefore I am a robot, but my basic programming makes my awareness and intellectual quotient very

similar to those of my father.”

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“But then you were constructed as an adult, fully formed as you are now.”

“I was crafted as a robot baby, incontinent and untrained. I was adjusted for growth on a weekly basis,

trained and educated by hand. Periodically my metal skeletal structure was replaced, and my wiring

revamped, but I never changed size or appearance in any large step. In this manner I proceeded in the

course of sixteen years to my present size, and thereafter have remained constant. I was put through

normal human schooling, along with the androids, cyborgs and human beings of my group. I regard

myself as a human being in all except flesh.”

“You are very like a human being,” she agreed. “I did not realize your nature until you advised me. But

what is the point of this significant effort?”

“To demonstrate that complete integration of the diverse intelligent elements of our society is feasible,”

he replied. “In the past there has been discrimination against robots, cyborgs and androids. In the future

all will participate on an equal basis.”

“And perhaps aliens too,” she agreed. “Now the rationale behind my own participation becomes clear,

was not informed by my own planetary authorities; 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 retain the prior system, in which only chosen hum 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 an 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

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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.

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“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

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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, Ruble 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.

They adjourned to the labyrinth chamber. This time it was set up in the form of a huge circle with three

entrances. Doris was designated the Damsel in Distress, and Mach was the Rescuing Hero, and Ware

was the Monster. Mach’s object was to find and rescue the Damsel before the Monster found her and

dragged her away to his lair. If Mach could bring her out his entrance, he would be the victor; if Ware

brought her out his, he was. The Damsel was required to go with whomever touched her first. In a

double sense, Mach realized.

He had kept company with her because, as a cyborg, she had the body of a robot and the mind of a

human being. She had originally been human, but an accident to her body had rendered it inoperable, so

her brain had been transplanted to the machine, where it was maintained in a bath of nutrients and

connected to the machine’s perceptive and operating units. Such mergers had always been problematical,

for no human brain could align perfectly with anything other than a human body, but as cyborgs went she

had been more sensible than most. She had been given the finest of bodies, which she delighted to use for

every purpose, and because she

was both human and machine, she understood Mach’s ambivalence. He had one human and one

machine parent; having experienced the machine existence, he longed for the human one, the other face

of his coin. Doris had actually known both, and that made her endlessly fascinating. But she did have that

erratic streak, which could make her difficult to deal with at times. Evidently she was toying with the

notion of having physical relations with a flesh creature, having satisfied herself about those with a

nonflesh creature. Now that she was angry with him, she was using this notion to force him to respond.

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Piers Anthony - Adept 04 - Out of Phaze

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