Robot Adept (12 page)

“No, sir,” she said.

A tan eyebrow elevated in supposed surprise. “Why not? It is an exceptionally easy life, for an android.”

“I am not that kind of android.”

Now his gaze became so intense that she was sure; he had penetrated her disguise. “Exactly what kind of android are you, Agee?”

She had no answer she could give to that without giving herself away, so she did not answer.
 
“Well, let’s give you more experience on which to base your attitude,” Citizen Tan said. He climbed onto the bed, on hands and knees, his body above hers.
 
“Now you will, regardless of whatever personal reactions you may or may not have, smile and emulate delight as I proceed.” He lowered himself.
 
Mach stepped forward, starting to speak. He froze.
 
“Ah yes, the robot,” Citizen Tan said. “Tried to act on its own, and got zapped by the shorting field I just turned on. So it’s self-willed, and quite possibly the one we seek.” He glanced down at Fleta. “But are you the female we seek? If so, this will be a special pleasure for me. I have never before indulged with an alien creature.” He resumed his positioning, about to proceed with the act.

Fleta decided that Mach must have been about to give the signal, before the field enchanted his body.
 
That meant it was time for her to act.

She melted the flesh of her central region. In fact, she had started to do this before consciously making her decision, for the process was well along now. The Citizen’s probing member encountered only mush.
 
Then that mush rose up and gripped adjacent and very vulnerable flesh.

Tan opened his mouth to scream, as that grip closed.
 
But Fleta slapped a hand across his mouth, and melted it to cover the lower part of his face. “An thou dost say anything, Adept, then will I squeeze, hard,” she whispered, and gave him a small sample. This was a pretty good body, for special effects!

Tan’s eyes glazed with pain. Fleta continued to melt.

“Lie down, roll over,” she said.

He dropped on her and rolled over, carrying her around so that she was now on top of him. As she melted, her flesh spread across and around him. Only her head remained humanoid. “Turn off thy magic field.”

When he hesitated, she began to squeeze again.
 
“I’m free,” Mach said. “We’re off-camera here, but those in the front chamber remain operational, and you must pass through that. Form into his robe and make him take you there.”

She obeyed without question, knowing that only he understood the nature of the magic that surrounded them. She spoke once more to the Citizen: “I will be come thy robe. Carry me to the waste chute and dump me there. Else will I squeeze. An thou do it right, thou willst be free o’ me. An thou balk, then will I kill thee, caring naught for my fate thereafter, for it be anyway sealed. Dost understand?”

The Citizen nodded. Then she melted her head, and spread herself over Tan’s body, and changed her color, becoming tan. She was getting good at this!
 
“Longer, with folds,” Mach murmured.

She thinned herself and lengthened herself, until she matched the length of his original robe. Then, as the man sat up, she flowed around to fill in the back. But she never released her constriction around his generative parts. Her freedom and life were at stake, and this was the other self of an Adept; she knew she could afford no error at all.

Tan walked to the other room. Fleta could no longer see or hear, because she had melted her eyeballs and ears, but she could feel the orientation and motion of his body, and she knew that Mach was following, a nominally servile robot, actually making sure nothing went wrong. She had to trust that the Citizen dumped her correctly.

Tan reached down and lifted the hem of her substance. She let herself be lifted, like flexible material.
 
She finally had to relinquish control of his nether anatomy, but she tightened her closure around his neck so that he could feel it. She could still hurt him, and he knew it.

She was being stuffed into the hopper; she could feel its cool metal. She melted, letting her substance flow down inside it. She had a head start, because of the form she had assumed; the melting was swift. When all of her was in the chute except the neck circlet and one “sleeve,” she released the neck but tightened about the arm, sliding down to encircle and grip the fingers, bracing them apart. She could break them if she chose. This body was completely malleable, but when it formed bonelike sections, they were strong enough to exert considerable force.

Finally there was nothing left of the connection except the hand. All the rest of her was a liquid string.
 
She had already negotiated the mesh; it was no trouble in her present state. She let go the hand and slid down and away.

If the Citizen then sprang into action, she didn’t know. Mach remained in his power, but she knew that without her as hostage, they could not make him cooperate, they could only kill him, or whatever it was they did to golems. To rovots. Ro-foots! She hoped he was correct that they would not do that.
 
Now she was in free fall down the chute. It became a pipe, with a blast of air to carry its contents along. If it led to a furnace to burn the garbage—

Then she slurped into a tub. The moment she was all in, something moved it, carrying it elsewhere. She was being loaded into a motorized vehicle; she felt the vibrations. Then she accelerated; it was taking her very swiftly to somewhere else.

Mach had told her to trust the machines. She was trusting them, but she hoped there was no error!
 
The acceleration eased, but vibration continued; she was still traveling. It was hard for her to judge time while in this state, and she didn’t dare shape into an other form until told to; she knew that the machines were hiding her from what was bound to be a deter mined search by the Contrary Citizens. She did form a masked eye, so she could perceive light and vague out lines, and a masked ear, so she could hear somewhat, in case the machines addressed her.

The tub slowed, then stopped. It lurched, evidently being loaded somewhere. Then it was still.
 
Was it time to emerge? How could she know? She formed a pseudopod—this body was really quite versatile, as she learned its capabilities!—so that she could peer out.

She made an eyeball on the end of the pseudopod, and peered through a vent in the top of her container.
 
All she saw was other containers, similar to her own.

She started to extend her eye farther, so as to see more.

“Unsafe,” a voice said immediately. “Wait. Hide.” She dissolved the pseudopod and settled down. If the Citizens were tracing the possible routes of her shipment from the waste chute, it would be dangerous to manifest now. They must have her stored in a warehouse, until the search passed. She would be lost among all the sludge containers. That was good.
 
She had nothing to do, so explored her own parameters further. She discovered that there were patterns in her memory for a number of set forms, and that she could fairly readily modify these for specific effects.
 
Thus she could emulate a human being, the pattern being for the form she had found herself in when she exchanged to Proton, but could also change that form so that she remained human but did not resemble the original form. She could become almost anyone, if she had a representation to copy from.

Agape was very like a unicorn, slower in her changes, and limited to a fixed mass, but more versatile within that mass. Of course Fleta preferred her own body—but here in Proton, the amoeba body might be better.
 
Time passed, and nothing happened. She grew bored, and then sleepy. This was actually the sleep format of this body, and this time she didn’t have to worry about melting off the bed.

She was awakened by the resumption of motion. She started to stir. “Remain quiescent,” a machine voice ordered.

She did so, but was alert. Her container was loaded onto another vehicle, which then moved a short distance and stopped. She was unloaded and wheeled to yet another chamber.

Then at last the directive came: “Form into humanoid semblance.”

She invoked the process of human body formation, which included the hardening of columns of flesh into the equivalent of bones and joints and the development of the key apparati of perception and communication, as well as the humanoid skin tones. Agape must have worked hard to develop this pattern, and had done an excellent job! Fleta never would have been able to do it, had she had to develop the pattern herself. Soon she stood as Agee, the office android.

She was in another warehouse chamber, much like the prior one, alone.

“Modify to male,” the speaker said. It was a grill set in the ceiling.

Fleta spluttered as the import registered. “Male?”

“Affirmative.”

She had never thought of such a thing! But she realized that probably the pursuing Citizens had not thought of it either. She discovered that there was a pattern for humanoid male, so she invoked it.
 
Her breasts shrank, until they were mere nipples set in her chest. Her hips melted and reformed, contracted.
 
Her genital region became jelly, then drooped. It formed a penis and scrotum, neither functional, but similar externally to those of male serfs. Her shoulder length mane shrank into briefer tonsure.
 
“Modify to this image,” the grill said. An image formed in the air before her, of an unfamiliar man.
 
She studied the details of the man, changing her configuration to match. The hair was yellow, the body slender and tall, the chest hairy, the eyes blue.
 
“Less buttock,” the grill said.

Oh. She worked on that region, shrinking the dual masses further.

“Follow the line to the Game Annex,” the grill said.

“But where is Mach?” she asked. “I need his advice!”

“Mach is being watched. You must qualify alone.
 
You will be secure as long as your identity is not suspected. If you qualify for the Tourney, you will be secure until you are eliminated.”

And thereafter, if she returned directly to Moeba.
 
Theoretically. She hoped Mach intercepted her before that happened!

She walked along the line. It led her from the warehouse and through a passage and into a concourse where other serfs walked. They were following lines too; it seemed that this was a standard way to show them where to go, as they went to the Game Annex.
 
She remembered the Lympics of Phaze, in which the various major species competed for honors. She had hoped to enter the Unilympics, for she was fleet of foot, and also could play her horn well. She had been working on a duet with herself, accompanied by an intricate hoof-tap pattern, that she thought could be a contender in the marching music division. But now, in Proton, in an alien culture and an alien body, none of that applied.
 
If she won entry to the Tourney, she would in time find herself confined to the alien planet. If she lost, she could be caught and tortured by the Contrary Citizens, to make Mach do their will. Or Bane, because they thought she was Bane’s love; they already had Mach’s cooperation, if they but knew it. What a complicated confusion!

She arrived at the Annex. Her line led to a console.
 
A young man stood at the other side: her assigned opponent.

He reached over, extending his hand. “Hi! I’m Shock. My hair, you know.” He gave his dark mass of head hair a shake, so that it fell across his face, then nipped it back out of the way.

She took the hand, remembering how human beings clasped digits in greeting. She concentrated on the correct dialect, so as not to give her origin away. “Hi. I’m Fleta.”

Then, stunned, she realized what she had said.
 
But the other seemed not to have noticed. “Welcome to the Leftover Ladder. I’m second from the bottom.
 
I love the Game, but I’m no good at it, so I’m easy to beat.”

“Ladder?” she asked, still appalled by her slip.

“Oh, you new here? From another world?”

“New,” she agreed. “From another world.” Both quite true, but not the way he would take it.
 

Shock grinned. “Say, that’s great! I’m a Koloform myself. Well, I mean my folks came from Kolo, so it’s my blood. I was born here, but I can only stay till I’m twenty-one, next year, you know. Then I’m either a serf, or I have to go to Kolo. What’re you?”

“A unicorn,” she said.
 
She had done it again!

“I never heard of that planet!” he said cheerfully.
 
“But what do I know? There’s thousands of planets.
 
Well, c’mon, let’s play before the next pair need the console.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

Her screen had words printed:

SHOCK OF KOLO

FLETA OF UNI

PLAYER ONE:

PLAYER TWO:

Below was a sample grid. He had the numbers, she the letters. Mach had explained this, but still it was confusing. She had to pick something she thought would get her into a game she could win.

Her choices were A. NAKED B. TOOL C. MA CHINE D. ANIMAL.

That was easy enough! The only thing she really understood was ANIMAL: being one herself. She touched D.