“But what about you?”
“I want not to flee it, but to kill it.”
“But—”
“Move, woman!”
She moved. The harpy oriented and swung low; then it folded its wings and dived down at him.
Bane stepped aside, as he had before, and the harpy swerved. But this time he had stepped to the other side, and the Citizen had been geared for the first side. Thus the harpy missed completely—but Bane’s staff didn’t. It caught the harpy on the back, knocking it down and out of control. It plowed into the ground. Bane rammed it in the side of the head, as he had the goblin, with the same result: sparks and cessation.
“Methinks I like this game,” he said, smiling.
“Bane, I don’t like it,” Agape said. “I fear the Citizen is only toying with you. There is something—”
“Something? What?”
“I don’t know. Something that doesn’t quite match. It scares me. Let’s get far from here.”
Bane thought her concern was exaggerated, but it made sense to keep the Citizen guessing about their location. It was possible that these were indeed simple ploys, intended only to feel out Bane’s defenses. Once the Citizen knew his opponent better, he might send in something more formidable.
They cut to the south (assuming the orientation of this mountain was as it was in Phaze), traveling at right angles to their former route. The forest was thick here, and they were careful not to scuff the ground. It would not be easy to spot them; probably the Citizen would have to do some searching. Bane intended to see just how good a searcher the man was, in a robot body.
There was a noise to the side, but not a threat. It was a brown deer bounding away, its white tail flashing. It paused, glancing back, then ran on out of sight.
“Stocked with real wilderness animals!” Agape exclaimed, delighted.
“Mayhap I can kill one and have it for food,” Bane said.
“Kill a deer?” she asked, horrified. “How could you!”
Suddenly there was a roar right ahead. A demon leaped at them. Agape screamed and fled; Bane whipped his staff up and caught the creature in the belly, shoving it back.
“Surprised you, didn’t I!” the Citizen’s voice came from the toothy maw of the monster. Then it lurched right over the staff, those teeth coming for Bane’s face.
Bane snatched the goblin sword from its mooring with his left hand. He drove the point at the demon’s gaping mouth. The blade went in, puncturing the back of the mouth. Again there was a crackle, and the monster became nonfunctional.
Bane pulled out the sword and replaced it in his belt. “Aye, this be an easy game.”
“But don’t you see,” Agape said. “Each time you kill one, another comes. And they seem to know where we are! The Citizen must be able to see us, before he animates a robot!”
“What wouldst thou have me do?” Bane asked, irritated. “Not kill a monster?”
“Maybe that would be best,” she said.
“Let it kill me instead?” he demanded acidly.
“No, Bane. Just—avoid it for a while. So that no new one can come. Better to retain the known danger, than to bring on an unknown one. After all, there’s a lot of time—a whole week, and—”
“Flee from a goblin or a harpy I could readily kill? What kind of man would folk take me for then?”
“A sensible one!” she flared.
“It be not sensible to leave an enemy creature on my tail!”
“But Bane, don’t you see, there are things we don’t understand—”
“I understand well enough!” he retorted. “Thou dost not like to hurt robots!”
“That’s not true! It’s just that—”
“Get away from me, woman!” he cried. “I need not counsel of the like of this!”
“Well, if you feel that way—!”
“Aye. Go thine own way, and let me be.”
She gazed at him for a moment, then turned and walked away. Bane watched her go, furious at her betrayal, then struck for higher ground. He wanted to get where he could look about, to see whether there was something watching him, such as one of the magic screens.
Just to be sure, he made a loop: he circled carefully, and stopped just before he crossed his own prior trail. If something were following him, this should foil it. Nothing did; all he saw was another deer, browsing amidst the leaves of a copse of small trees. He settled down and kept quiet, so as not to disturb it. When it spooked, he would know something was coming.
His thoughts returned to Agape. She had supported him so loyally, until now; why had she started second-guessing his strategy, that was so obviously successful? He had proved himself readily able to handle the assorted imitation creatures the Citizen had sent against him; she should have been satisfied with that!
There was a thunk beside him. Bane jumped. There was a feathered arrow in the trunk of the tree he squatted near. He was being attacked!
He scrambled away as another arrow whistled through his region. He dived behind another trunk. This time the Citizen was striking from a distance; neither staff nor short sword could do much about that!
How had the man found him, and come up behind him, without even alerting the deer? Bane’s loop had made no difference. The Citizen had not followed his trail, but had simply arrived at his location.
Bane poked his head around the tree, trying to spot the Citizen. But another arrow swished by, too close. The Citizen has good aim!
“Now let’s see you club me in the head!” the Citizen called.
Had the man come in person, this time? If so, the Citizen was taking a serious chance, for he was fat and slow, while Bane was young and fast.
Another arrow thunked into the ground just beyond Bane’s tree. But this one was different. It sparkled. In a moment the dry grass and leaves of the forest floor were burning. A fire-arrow!
Bane went to stamp out the fire—but another normal arrow whizzed by his head, and he had to retreat. But the fire was spreading rapidly toward him. Soon he would have to move, or get burned. But when he moved, he would become vulnerable to the arrows of the Citizen!
He had no choice. He saw the deer running by, spooked by the smoke, in its alarm actually cutting past the fringe of the fire and leaping toward the Citizen. Well, maybe that would distract the man for the necessary instant!
Bane charged for the next tree. But an arrow passed ahead of him, making him dive to the ground.
“I’ve got you covered, apprentice!” the Citizen called, striding forward, his bow ready, the next arrow already nocked. “You weren’t as much competition as I had hoped, after all. Too bad.”
Bane scrambled up. The Citizen’s bow moved to track him with unerring accuracy. He had no chance!
Then the deer hurtled into the Citizen. Both fell to the ground. Bane, amazed, nevertheless grasped his opportunity; he launched himself in that direction, intending to club the Citizen before the bow came back into play.
But he discovered that the job had already been done. The deer was striking at the man’s head with its sharp front hooves, and the head was crackling. It had been another robot, fashioned into a man’s image, and it had been put out of commission.
But by a wild animal?
Then Bane caught on. “Agape!” he exclaimed.
The deer looked at him and nodded. Then it began to melt. Soon it was reforming into Agape’s more familiar human form.
“Thou didst save my life!” Bane exclaimed. “Or at least my freedom. Thou wast with me all along! But why, when we quarreled?”
“Friends can disagree,” she said as her human face became complete. “I couldn’t let you lose the game if I could prevent it.”
He took her in his arms. “We spoke of honor. Thou didst say that thou didst define it differently. I like thy definition.”
“I just did what I had to do.”
“Must I needs apologize to thee,” he said.
“No need, Bane. Just win the game.”
&
nbsp; “Aye. But now will come another threat—and me-thinks it will know where we be.”
“The last one followed you and didn’t recognize me,” she said. “Maybe the Citizen tunes in on the substances of your body. Living flesh may not work for that.”
“This be more of a challenge than I like. How can I sleep, and the Citizen tune in on me?”
“We’ve got to find a way to nullify the threat without destroying it,” she said. “Then it won’t matter if it knows where you are.”
Bane cast about for stones. “Next bowman comes, I want a distance weapon.”
“Why not use the bow?”
Bane knocked his head with the heel of his hand. “The bow: Spoils!”
Bane picked up the bow, and checked the remaining arrows. Most were ordinary, but one was incendiary and another was glowing: a marker.
He tested the bow, shooting an arrow at a distant target. It scored; this was an excellent instrument. Probably the man-robot had been designed for perfect marksmanship, too. Well, Bane could score well enough with this, being both trained and having a robot body.
“Each attack seems to be worse than the preceding one,” Agape said. “I think we’d better prepare for something bad.”
“Aye. But thou dost not wish to kill it.”
“Not if we can nullify it without destroying it. Then the Citizen won’t be able to bring a new threat.”
“If we just knew what to expect!” he fretted.
“Since we can’t seem to hide from it, maybe if we made a good defensive position—”
“Or a trap!” he exclaimed.
They discussed it briefly, then worked to set up a covered pit. Bane had to use the sword to excavate the earth and chop through roots, and they couldn’t take time to make it too deep, because they did not know when the next attack would come. The best they could hope for was that the creature would fall in, and be distracted long enough for Bane to get in some crippling but not killing blow. Having slowed it, they could then outrun it, and the Citizen would not be able to bring in anything new.
They put branches and ferns across the hole, bringing them in from a distance, and covered them with some of the dirt. The extra dirt they used to fashion a kind of fort nearby. They spread dry leaves over everything. Then they settled into the fort and waited.
Nothing happened. After two hours, the sun was going down, and they were getting hungry. “The Citizen must be taking a break,” Agape said. “He knows that we don’t dare rest, so he can afford to. He has plenty of time.”
That seemed to make sense. “Let’s eat, then,” Bane said.
They searched for food. Some of the trees had fruit, but it wasn’t enough. They also needed water to drink.
“If this be a copy of the mountain I know,” Bane said, “there be a cave and the snow from the peak melts into a stream that runs through it. Mushrooms grow in that cave. But some be poison.”
“I can tell good from bad,” Agape said. They went to where the cave should be—and it was there. “The stream joins it inside; its channel be too convoluted and narrow for a person, but for a way it be nice,” he said, remembering.
It was nice. It was dark inside, but Bane used the glow-arrow for light, and it was enough. The mushrooms grew thickly by the bank of the subterranean river. Agape melted a hand and touched sample mushrooms, locating a large patch of good ones. They had food, for now. He ate a token amount, just to keep her company.
Agape checked farther in the cave. She stroked the stones of it. “Bane, this is not safe!” she exclaimed, alarmed. “I feel the stress here; one hard knock, and the ceiling will fall!”
“Aye, I always used a spell to shore it up, just in case. But if we don’t knock it—”
“Let’s get back to the surface,” she said nervously.
They returned to the forest. It was dark now, and the sounds of the night life were there. The Citizen had done an excellent job of renovating this region!
“Funny thing,” Bane murmured. “The Citizen we fight corresponds to the Purple Adept of Phaze. But the one who captured us was the White Adept.”
“I think the Citizens are collaborating,” Agape said.
“If the correspondence be accurate, White and Purple both be enemies of Blue.”
“It seems accurate.” They returned to the earthen fortress and settled down for the night.
“The Citizen can attack any time,” Bane said. “We’ll have to keep careful watch.”
“I’ll watch while you sleep,” she said. “Then you can watch while—”
Bane smiled. “Thou dost forget my present body. It does not need to sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
She laughed. “I did forget! You seem so human to me.”
“I am human. It be just my body that is machine.”
“Then I will sleep. But wake me, if—”
“How do I wake thee? When I tried before—”
“Tap this code on my surface,” she said. She took his hand and tapped it in an intricate pattern, “That is the alert-code for my species; I will respond immediately.”
He rehearsed the code, making sure of it. Then she formed a basin in the ground and lay down.
“Dost thou not get dirty?” he asked as she began to melt.
Her face was dissolving, but the mouth remained. It spoke. “No, my skin rejects it, just as it does the dust.” Then the mouth disappeared into the coalescing central mass. She became a dark pool in the basin.
Bane kept watch. He discovered that though he did not require sleep, his consciousness did require some down-time to assimilate and properly organize the events of the day. Otherwise his awareness would become chaos.
So, while he watched, he also dreamed, in his fashion. It was pleasant enough.
In the morning he tapped Agape’s surface in the code pattern, and she stirred. The protoplasm rippled and humped and shaped itself into the human mannequin; then the features clarified and the hair grew out. Bane watched, interested, then startled; then he smiled. “Good morning, Bane,” she said. “Thy hair be blue,” he said.
She lifted a strand between her fingers, bringing it around so that she could see it. “Oops!” Her hair dissolved back into her head, then regrew with its normal reddish color.
“But methinks I liked the blue better,” Bane said. She stared at him a moment, then laughed. “When you are serious about that, tell me. I can be any appearance you want.”
They found some more fruit, and an edible root. It wasn’t much of a breakfast, but it served. “Actually, I can assimilate cellulose,” Agape said. “It takes a little longer, but there is no need for me to take food you could consume. In fact, I might be able to predigest some for you, so that—”
“Nay, this body needs food not,” he reminded her. She laughed ruefully. “I keep forgetting! You seem so—so alive!”
“I be alive,” Bane said. But he knew what she meant. Were he in living flesh, he would be required to eat. The notion of consuming her predigested food bothered him, but he realized that there was no sense in being repelled by the notion; what was honey, but pollen that had been predigested by insects? “We should be seeing the Citizen soon.”
“As he finishes his breakfast and gets ready for his day’s entertainment,” she agreed. They had called it correctly. The Citizen manifested—in the form of a small flying machine. “A toy airplane!” Agape exclaimed.
“I mistrust the Citizen’s toys,” Bane said.
The airplane looped in the sky, then oriented unerringly on Bane and dived down.
Bane saw it coming and scooted around behind a tree. A dart thunked into the trunk; the plane had fired at him.
“Like a man with a bow—only this time it flies,” Agape said.
Bane ran for the cover of a different tree as the plane sailed up in the sky and looped around again. He picked up a pair of stones.
The plane was not in sight, but they could hear it as it circled. Then it came down, flying directly at Bane’s present hiding
place, on the side that he stood. “Circle the tree!” Agape screamed.
He did so with alacrity. Another dart struck, and the plane climbed back into the sky.
“How does he know where I be?” Bane asked. “I couldn’t see it, so it couldn’t see me—yet came it right at me.”
“There must be a sensing device on you,” she said, running after him as he went for another tree.
“Like a spell of location?”
“I think so. Maybe if you take off the sword—”
Bane threw down the sword and ran for another tree. The plane came down and planted another dart in that trunk as Bane dived clear.
Then it came to him. “The finger!” he cried.
“The what?”
“The Citizen fixed my chewed finger! That be where it be!”
“Of course!” she agreed. “But in that case—”
Bane lifted his finger to his mouth and bit it off. The pseudoflesh and pseudobone resisted his efforts, but he kept chewing until it was free. He hurled it away from him.
The plane came down and fired a dart into the ground near the fallen finger. “That confirms it!” Agape cried. “Get away from that finger, and he’ll never find us!”
But Bane had another notion. “That flyer can cast about and mayhap spot us anytime; I want to trap it, alive.”
“Bane, you can’t—”
“Follow me!” He ran across and swooped up the finger. “I’m going to the cave. Tell me when the plane be coming at me.”
“The cave! But the plane is small enough to fly in there too!”
“Aye.”
“Bane, this is crazy! It will follow you and trap you in there!”
He kept running, and she had to follow. They zigzagged down the slope toward the cave.
“It’s orienting!” Agape cried.
Bane dodged to the side without stopping. In a moment a dart struck the ground near his prior course. The plane passed on by and ascended. Apparently it was only able to fire once on a pass, and it was doing so from too far away to compensate for his last-moment maneuvers.
They reached the entrance to the cave. “Bane, you can’t!” Agape cried. “You can’t take the finger deep enough to lead the plane in, and still get out yourself—and the plane will come out the moment it discovers that it’s only the finger, anyway!”