“Are you familiar with local protocol?” the woman asked as he stepped away from the window. The scan had checked, of course.
“I believe so. I go naked, address every Citizen as sir, and do what I’m told.”
“There are details. Are you aware, for example, that magic is operative here?”
“Prestidigitation is a game skill I have developed. It will be interesting to compare local techniques.”
The woman’s mouth turned wry. “This is more than that. Perhaps you should take the indoctrination course.”
“I’m helping him,” Alyc put in. “I’m Alyc, employee of Citizen Blue. May I call the Citizen now?”
“If you wish.” The woman turned a videophone screen toward her.
“Alyc calling Citizen Blue,” she said to the screen.
The clerk’s eyebrow elevated. “You expect him to answer you direct?”
A woman’s face appeared on the screen. Her eyes were grey and her hair brown, fading to bleached strands at her shoulders. The lines about her face and neck indicated that she was no young, but she remained beautiful. “You’re back, Alyc!” she said with evident pleasure. “Was it a good trip?”
“Yes, Sheen. But funny wearing clothes. I’m glad to be back. Could—could I talk to the Citizen, please?”
The clerk made a tiny shake of her head at this audacity. It was obvious that smart serfs did not push their luck like this.
A man’s face came on the screen. There was no question of his age; he was at least in his fifties, but his eyes were alert. The collar of a shirt was visible at the base of the picture; he was clothed, therefore a Citizen. “Yes, Alyc.”
The clerk’s jaw dropped slightly. She turned away.
“Sir, I met a man on the ship back, and maybe you could hire him.”
The Citizen’s countenance quirked in what was becoming of Lysander a familiar expression in those who spoke to Alyc: that one assumed when dealing with a child or harmless animal that had intruded on the carpet. “Perhaps. Who is he?”
“Lysander. He knows about computers and games, though—”
“He is present?”
“Right here, sir,” she said eagerly, moving aside so that the Citizen could look at Lysander.
Blue nodded. “No promise, Alyc. But bring him here.”
“Oh, thank you, sir!” she exclaimed, actually jumping in her excitement. But the Citizen’s glance at Lysander, as the image faded on the screen, was disconcertingly sharp. This was going to be far more chancy than the registration had been!
Alyc led him out of the spaceport to a public transport car. It was half-filled with naked humanoids, with a few machines of various configurations. All the human beings were in good health, none fat; it was obvious that the governing Citizens did not encourage over-indulgence. In fact, this seemed to be a well-run planet.
“About magic,” Lysander said. “What did the clerk mean about that? You mentioned it on the shuttle but did not clarify your reference.”
“About a year ago the frames merged,” Alyc said brightly. “Citizen Blue did it, to stop the Contrary Citizens from taking over and ruining everything. That was just before I came here, so I don’t know how it was before, but it certainly is nice now. Anyway, science works, and magic works. It’s a lot of fun.”
“My education, as I said, was programmed. My brain was in effect force-fed with the language of this planet and the general nature of the galaxy, and the necessary skills of survival were inculcated. Perhaps I missed something. Magic is generally known as a fraud, something that can not possibly operate as claimed. It is nonsensical by definition. Therefore I wish to know what is meant by the term here, as it can not be what I mean by it.”
She smiled knowingly. “Brother, have you got a learning experience coming!”
“You propose to show me actual magic?”
“Well, not me personally. It’s mostly only those who have been here a long time who can do it, especially the mergees. But I’m sure—”
“Mergees?”
“Oh, this gets complicated! You see, there were these two frames, Proton and Phaze—with the z, remember?—and they were sort of separated, and in one science worked and in the other magic worked. The people, a lot of them were the same, I mean people in Proton had other selves in Phaze, who did magic. But then they merged, and all the people merged too, and now they—well, wait till you meet Mach/Bane and Fleta/Agape!”
“MacBane and Fleta who?”
“They—you won’t believe me until you see it. Meanwhile just take my word: there’s magic here now, because the land merged too. But they say a lot of it only works once, so they don’t do it much, except for the natural shape changing.”
“I will take your word,” Lysander said, hoping she did no catch the cynicism. She had not seemed crazy before! In due course they arrived at the section of the city that housed Citizen Blue’s estate. Lysander was surprised to find it ordinary; there was no ostentation. His respect for the Citizen grew, and his dismay; he was not at all sure he could fool this man.
“You look nervous,” Alyc remarked. “I know how it is! I was so scared when I first came here! I thought I’d do something, in my pants—and I didn’t have any. But Blue is just great; you’ll like him.”
Lysander doubted it.
“And we can be together,” she continued cheerily. “I’ll show you around everywhere. Blue does that; he lets newcomers break in easy.”
That was more appealing. The longer he had before he had to get serious about his mission, the better it would be.
He assumed that they would be admitted to some outer chamber, where the citizen would interview him by video. This was not the case. They were ushered instead into the main apartment, where Citizen Blue and Sheen stood waiting.
Sheen stepped forward and hugged Alyc as if she were a friend. Sheen was a robot, but this was hardly apparent; she seemed as womanly as it was possible to be.
“Did you have a nice visit home, dear?” Sheen inquired.
“Yes!” Alyc agreed with her customary vigor. “Mom to; me I needed to eat more, I was thin as a reed!” This was laughable; she was about as well fleshed as she could be without sacrificing sex appeal.
“Don’t listen to her,” Sheen said, smiling. “Men prefer thee. Speaking of which—this is your new young man?” Her eyes turned to Lysander.
“Yes—as of an hour past,” Lysander said. “She has been helping me get adapted.”
“She does that,” Sheen agreed. She turned back to Alyc. “Let’s go get reacquainted with Agnes. The men may want to talk.”
The two naked women walked to another room, leaving Lysander with the Citizen. Citizen Blue was a tiny man, a head shorter than average, though not so small as to be a dwarf. He wore an open shirt and casual trousers, with slipper-type shoes. On any other humanoid planet he would have been dismissed as a man of no consequence. Here the clothing made him a figure of stature.
Yet even if Blue had been naked, his bearing would have set him apart. The man had power, and it seemed to imbue him with a presence that was not to be ignored. Lysander presumed that this was typical of Citizens in general, but perhaps especially of this one, because he knew that Blue was not just any Citizen. He was the Citizen—the leading figure of the planet. That was why his ready accessibility was surprising. Surely there were bodyguards watching, or killer laser beams oriented on the visitor; the Citizen would not leave himself open to the mischief of a stranger.
“Sit down, Lysander,” Blue said, and took a seat himself.
Lysander sat opposite, in one of the simple plastic chairs. This was no social visit; it was an employment interview. It was also, more critically, a test. If Blue had any notion of Lysander’s true mission—
“Your meeting with Alyc was no coincidence,” the Citizen said.
And there it was, already. “No, sir,” Lysander agreed.
“Please explain.”
“I have special training. My planet—the au
thorities there—wish to upgrade their computer technology, especially with regard to self-willed robots. They feel that solid experience with advanced systems should help. When they discovered that a servant of a family including two self-willed robots was returning to Proton, they felt the opportunity was too good to be allowed to pass. So they arranged for me to be seated beside that servant, who was known to be friendly to handsome men.”
“And you were created handsome,” Blue said.
“Yes, sir. My body is android, crafted on ideal humanoid lines. My brain is animal, so that I do not suffer the typical dysfunction of androids.”
“You are using Alyc as an avenue to employment here?”
“No, sir. That is, the intent was to befriend her, and so have better access to those who are in a position to guarantee my employment in my specialty. It was known that you support your employees, so if you felt her situation would be improved by my retention as a serf on this planet, you would arrange it. But actual employment by you—”
“She surprised you by being too helpful,” Blue said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Your background checks out. We can use you. But I take exception to the mechanism of your acquaintance with Alyc. She is vulnerable to exploitation, especially by a male such as yourself. She wears her heart on her sleeve, as one of our ancient sayings puts it, but she is not an unworthy person. What are your intentions toward her?”
“I have no present emotional commitment, sir. If you direct me to disassociate with her, I will do so.”
“I do not make directives of that nature.”
“Then I would prefer to explore the association she proffers, sir. I am inexperienced in social and sexual interactions, as I was crafted two years ago and have spent the majority of my awareness in training. I believe she could show me much I lack.”
“And when you have had the experience?”
“She has informed me that her associations are generally brief, because men come to prefer more intelligent women. My interest is in my specialty rather than in any social situation. I see no reason to break with her unless that is her preference.”
“These things are not necessarily predictable,” the Citizen said. “I loved a human woman, but later lost that love, and associated with Sheen instead. If your interest changes, you should do as you wish. I only ask that you give Alyc a fair chance, and if you have occasion to change women, that you set her down gently.”
“I shall do that, sir.”
“Then go and tour the planet,” Blue said. “Alyc will show you the landmarks. Familiarize yourself with our conventions before settling down to your specialty.”
“But sir, with all due respect, I have only three days to find employment. If I squander it—”
Blue silenced him with a slightly elevated hand. “I apologize, Lysander. I thought you understood. You have been registered as my employee. My suggestion was in the nature of a directive.”
Lysander stared at him, for the moment too surprised to speak.
The Citizen smiled. “You are new here. That is why you need to familiarize yourself with our culture. Let me anticipate Alyc with this one caution: when a Citizen speaks to you, take him literally. Never protest the case, unless you are sure you know something he doesn’t which might affect the case. In all other circumstances, simply ignore a Citizen, except to stay out of his way.
“I apologize for transgressing, sir,” Lysander said, embarrassed.
“And don’t apologize to a Citizen; that presumes sufficient status to make it meaningful.”
“Yes, sir,” Lysander said, embarrassed again.
“And do not speak at all unless he requires it of you.”
Lysander was silent.
Blue laughed. “There is no offense, Lysander. Merely a demonstration. Come, we shall join the ladies.” He got up, and Lysander immediately stood also.
Blue glanced at him. “Did I tell you to stand?”
“No, sir,” Lysander said hastily, sitting down again.
“But it was implied. I invited you to join the ladies, which you would find awkward to do if you remained seated. But if you stood merely because I did, you were in error.”
Lysander stood again, silently. He suspected he was flushing the full length of his body.
Blue clapped him on the shoulder. “A few days with Alyc will enable you to get everything straight. But your specialty may attract the interest of other Citizens, or I may contact you myself in that period, and I would not want to be embarrassed by having an employee who seemed uncertain of relevant protocol. I can not say I approve of all the details of our system, but others do, and that makes appearances important. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Exactly.” Blue showed the way to the other room.
An older maid was serving a beverage at a table. “This is Agnes, maid and friend,” Blue said. “In the absence of myself and my wife, she is the ranking figure of this household, and you will honor any request she makes of you.”
Lysander nodded to Agnes, but did not speak. They took places at the table.
Alyc glanced at the Citizen as if wanting to say something. Blue nodded. “Sir, Lysander doesn’t believe in magic.”
The Citizen frowned. “And you had the audacity to associate with him?”
Sheen smiled. Lysander, taking his cue from her, smiled also.
“Yes, sir,” Alyc said, abashed. “I thought maybe—”
“This sounds like a job for my granddaughter,” Blue said.
“Yes, sir.”
“You can spare him for an hour?”
“Yes, sir!” Alyc said, happy.
“But you know he will never be the same, once Nepe finishes with him.”
“Don’t tease her, dear,” Sheen reproved Blue. He smiled. It was obvious that Alyc was quite satisfied to be teased by this man.
The Citizen nodded to Agnes, who left the room. Then they settled down to their beverage, which turned out to be pseudo-wine. This had the flavor and texture of something vintage, but no alcoholic content. Lysander was interested to see that Sheen drank it too. She was the perfect woman, machine though she was.
Lysander saw a problem on the horizon. These were likeable people, and he liked them. That was apt to be awkward, when he had to act.
Chapter 2
Magic
The Citizen’s granddaughter Nepe showed up before they finished their wine. She was a little girl, nine years old, naked in the serf manner, with flouncing brown hair covering her ears. She dashed up to Citizen Blue for a hug, her hair flying out with the vigor of her motion, then spied the visitor and abruptly turned formal. “You summoned me, sir?”
“I have hired Lysander,” Blue said, indicating him. “He does not believe in magic.”
Slowly the girl’s head turned toward Lysander. She smiled impishly. “We shall have to do something about that,” she said, with an odd certainty.
“Go with Nepe,” the Citizen said to Lysander.
Without a word, Lysander got up and approached the child. She extended her hand, and he reached out to take it—and paused, startled.
Her arm terminated in a mass of squirming tentacles.
Oh—she was a shape changer. There were several galactic species that could change their forms, and some of them were surely represented here. If this was the nature of the “magic,” he need have little concern.
He took the “hand” without flinching, knowing that it was someone’s notion of a joke or an initiation.
Suddenly they were standing in a field. Pleasant gray clouds drifted overhead, and sunlight brightened the waving grass. There was no evidence that the rays of the sun were bent at right angles; they seemed to descend from almost overhead, this being midday. But this amounted to an optical illusion. Just as a person saw the reflection in a mirror as an extension of the local scene beyond the mirror, he saw the sun where it seemed to belong. It was actually at right angles, to the south.
??
?You hungry, Lysander?” the child inquired in a different voice.
He glanced sharply down. He was now holding the hand of a boy! A tousle-headed lad clothed in black jacket and trousers, with blue socks and sneakers.
Oh: the girl had shape-changed again, forming her body surface into the appearance of clothing and quite possibly the semblance of masculinity beneath it. Still no magic. However, the abrupt change of scene still mystified him. How had that effect been arranged?
But he had to play the game. He affected unconcern. “Yes, actually. Is there suitable food here?”
“There’s a melon tree not far off, but it’s guarded by a dragon.”
“I’d like to see this dragon,” Lysander said. Indeed, he was curious about what the child would come up with next. He had to concede that this was an excellent demonstration.
“I’ll give you a ride. But you’d better put on some clothing. Outside the domes it’s Phaze now.”
Suddenly Lysander was clothed. Shirt, trousers, shoes—everything. It had happened like magic.
Uh-oh. The child was still trying to trick him.
There was a musical honk. He looked—and saw a horse standing beside him. No, not a horse—a unicorn, with a long spiraled horn set in its forehead. Where was Nepe?
The animal honked again, gesturing with its horn toward its own back. Actually it was male, and the honk came from the horn itself, sounding like a woodwind instrument. If this was a simulation, as seemed to be the case, it was a clever one!
Well, he would continue to play along. He stepped toward the animal. “I’m not much at riding,” he said. He had ridden horses, as it was an aspect of his gameplaying practice, but those had been tame and trained. He feared this creature was neither. He was also used to a saddle; bareback was more of a challenge. But if that was the way it was, so be it.
He grabbed a handful of mane and jumped, swinging a leg up and over. He half expected to get dumped as the animal bolted, but it remained still. Only when he was securely mounted did it move, and then carefully, so that he had no trouble keeping his seat.