Key to Survival

Chapter 27 Citadel

Shee. It was Gale's thought.

Gale, she answered.

Do not respond overtly. I have a mission for you that you may not like.

She remained as she was, outdoors practicing diffusion. She was learning all the Glamor abilities, though this particular one was a struggle. Question?

Background: I have been with a controlling machine, searching for the active Makers. I have an idea where they may be hiding. You are better equipped to continue the search, working with the machine. But you will need to masquerade as me.

Distress!

I suspect the Makers, if they exist, are hiding among the machines.

Then Shee saw the logic. She was a machine. As a Glamor and a machine, she could best search among the machines. But not openly; the machines would never accept that.

Question: can you trust a machine on such a mission?

I trust a Glamor on such a mission.

Answer enough. But there were problems. We must meet privately and work things out.

I will tell Havoc. He will cover for us.

Shee laughed mentally. He would rather uncover us.

He can survive with Monochrome and the bath girls for a few hours. It meant they could be free to do their own business without causing him distress. For a few hours; that time limit was not a joke.

Before long the two of them were in an isolated cabin in a desert outpost that hadn't been visited in years. Just to be sure, they spread a dissuasion net around it. No one would bother them.

"Situation," Gale said. "I have been with a controlling machine named Sphere who is in charge of the project for finding the remnant Makers, as they are called. The ones who fled their origin planet fifty thousand years ago, and for whom the machines have been searching ever since. The machines say they want only to serve all the Makers, and that may be true, but we can't afford to gamble that destruction is not the real objective. So we need to be there when the advanced Makers are found. I doubt that they exist, but there are Maker Dreamers on the remnant planet who seem to be awaiting their contact, so I can't say they don't exist. The machines need to know, and so do we."

"Agreement," Shee said.

"Sphere has a crush on me. He studied all the Glamors, and found me most appealing, so elected to work with me. As you know, the higher level machines have gender and can practice sex."

"I did have a suspicion," Shee said, smiling. She herself was a prime example.

"I flirted with Sphere, and seduced him, as a matter of demonstration and dominance, and he wants to continue with me. But I think you can better accomplish what we need."

"Seducing a machine?" Shee never forgot her nature, but now identified completely with the living Glamors.

"You seem to have proved yourself competent."

"Locating the site of the machines' Prime Directive. We need that."

"How could I locate it more effectively than you could?"

"It is surely a machine itself. That is, matter. You should be able to tune in on it, as part of your clientele."

"So I am to fool a machine into believing I am you, while nominally searching for Makers but actually searching for the site of the Prime Directive," Shee said.

"Agreement. You will have to have reasonably steady sex with him. He expects it, and it will keep him amenable.

Just like any male." That, too, was no joke. Women governed men by constantly seducing them, whether by minor exposures of their bodies or full scale eroticism. The men knew it, but were so eager for sex that they willingly cooperated.

"Problem," Shee said. "He carries your ikon."

Gale clapped her hand to her head, chagrined. "Oversight! I did not recover it."

"We must arrange to exchange it for mine."

"Concurrence. How? We can't just ask him for it. That would give away the exchange."

"Idea: have him pick you—me—up in a Chroma zone. A mortal can use local magic to exchange the ikons."

"Feasible," Gale agreed. "We'll have to camouflage yours to resemble mine. Fill in the gear teeth to make it into the mossball."

"Who?"

"What about Fifth? He's a good man who will do anything for me, especially if I flirt with him a bit. Not much; I don't want to annoy Flame."

"Fifth," Shee agreed. "So it must be a Black Chroma zone."

"I'll let Ennui know now," Gale said, concentrating momentarily. "Done." Anything any Glamor needed done properly in due course was assigned to Ennui, the most trusted mortal on the planet.

"Idea," Shee said, returning to the main business. "If the Makers are hiding among the machines, where better to hide than at the site of the Prime Directive? My background indicates that only Makers are admitted to its presence, apart from routine servitors who protect and maintain it. I suspect no Maker from the original planet has bothered in recent millennia, but that would not change the directive. They could go there without being challenged."

"But then wouldn't their presence be known to the machines?"

"Not if they issued a directive to conceal it. The machines would obey Makers implicitly. I would. Or would have, before I turned Glamor. Had the knowledge of them been in my data bank."

Gale nodded. "This is better yet. All you need to do is verify it. Failure to find Makers there won't invalidate your discovery of the site."

"However, if I am to emulate you, there are challenges. I will need to learn to play your hammer dulcimer. If you emulate me, you will need to play my shells."

Gale produced her dulcimer and put on the finger hammers. "Thus." Her fingers rippled across the strings, evoking a lovely melody.

"Thus," Shee agreed, bringing out her shells and squeezing them to make a similar melody.

"Now we exchange," Gale said.

They exchanged instruments and tried again. But now Shee produced a discordant noise, while Gale made sounds like indigestion on the toilet. Both burst out laughing.

They worked at it, singing and playing songs until they were each able to do at least a moderately melodic background accompaniment that should pass with uncritical audiences. "You probably won't have to perform anyway" Gale said.

"Unless your smitten machine wants me to lull him to sleep."

"It's the price of dominance."

They laughed again, and went on to perfect Shee's emulation of Gale. "Final exam," Gale said.

"Emulate me, and fool Havoc."

"But you have already informed him of our exchange."

"Expletive! He'll be alert. Can't have that."

"Idea," Shee said. "We'll both go, as you, and he must identify the real one."

"He'll read our minds and know immediately."

"Closed minds, of course."

"He has a fifty percent chance regardless. He could make a lucky guess."

They discussed it, and came up with a three part test. Gale notified Ennui. Then they conjured to the royal bedroom. Havoc was there, having received word from Ennui.

Both of them were in Gale's likeness. "Havoc," Shee said. "Shee is going to emulate me in a mission among the machines. We need to be certain her emulation is realistic, and also mine of her. You must judge our correct identities in three instances. If we can fool you, we should be good enough to fool anyone else."

"So tell us," Gale said. "Which one of us is me?"

Havoc gazed at them. "Strip."

Both stripped and stood naked before him.

He approached Shee, enfolded her, and kissed her. Then he did the same for Gale, also squeezing her bottom. "Objection!" Shee protested. "You didn't squeeze my bottom." Havoc returned to squeeze hers.

"You are Shee."

Was it a guess? "How do you know."

"Gale would not have protested. She would have waited until she had a chance to fondle some man's bottom in my presence, to get back at me."

Shee looked at Gale. "Got me there," Gale said. "Make a note to be less reactive and more vengeful."

"Noted," Shee agreed. It was a useful lessen. At least Havoc had not been able to tell by appearance or feel.

"Turn around, Havoc," Gale said.

He turned, cooperating with their test. They both assumed the likeness of Shee.

Havoc clasped, kissed, and squeezed them both again. Then he led Gale to the bed. He stroked her, and she responded, and soon they were in the throes of sex. Shee, watching, was turned on. She had always been eager for sex with Havoc, but since becoming a Glamor she had wanted it far more, with him or any acceptable man.

Havoc finished with Gale, then took Shee. They had glorious sex.

"You are Shee," he said as they concluded.

"Expletive! How do you know?"

"You are identical outside, but not inside. Your patterns of reaction differ. Gale squeezes uniformly; you squeeze rhythmically. I like both, but know the difference."

"Got us again," Gale said. "That one must be corrected for Sphere."

"Affirmation," Shee agreed.

For the third trial they were one of each. Havoc had to judge whether they were themselves or each other.

He glanced at them, then wrote something on a bit of paper and set it aside. He came to them, put his arms around both, and drew them into him together. He kissed and fondled their mouths, their breasts, and their bottoms. He put them both on their backs on the bed, lifted their knees, spread their legs, and licked their exposed clefts. Then he mounted and entered Shee, withdrew, entered Gale, withdrew, jetted into Shee, cut it off, and jetted into Gale. Finally he hauled them both onto him like adjacent blankets, their breasts pressing against him on either side.

"Verdict?" Gale asked.

"Excellent, both."

"Identities," Shee said with tolerant sharpness.

"See the paper."

Shee got up and fetched the paper. On it was written YOU ARE EXCHANGED.

"But you hadn't even touched us!" Gale said.

"You are practicing emulation. You would get no practice as yourselves."

"Then why all this on the bed?" Shee asked.

"It's a real turn-on to do one woman pretending to be another, and more to do both together."

"We would have done it anyway, had you asked," Gale said.

"It is twice as sweet when obtained by trickery."

They exchanged a glance, then went to work on him together. Shee pinned his face against her Gale-breasts while Gale rode his penis with her Shee cleft. Then, as he went into orgasm, she quickly got off, letting him spout into space. They had punished him for his insolence.

But they had also perfected their emulations. Havoc admitted he could no longer tell which was which, outside or inside. That was the point of the exercise.

At the same time, they too had wanted the sex, so it was a tacit collaboration between the three of them. As they said so often, there was something about Havoc.

Sphere's ship arrived exactly on schedule. He used the wormhole to appear beside Pyramid. Gale and Shee were tuning in telepathically.

Ennui was there to meet him. "Queen Gale is occupied in a Black Chroma zone at the moment, and regrets being tardy. I am to conduct you there."

The spherical machine took this in stride, as it were. "Acceptance."

Ennui guided him to the fringe of the nearby Blue Chroma zone, where they entered a coach carried by a giant animal. Soon they were at the fringe of the Black Chroma zone. Within it was a bunker where several children of assorted Chroma stood. Shee, emulating Gale, was with them.

The children looked frightened when they saw the sphere. "Safe," Shee said. "I know this machine." She walked up to Sphere and kissed the top of him. "Greeting, Sphere."

"Respond," Ennui murmured.

"Greeting, Queen Gale," Sphere said.

"There was a surprise inruption," Shee said. "These tourists children were separated from their families, as there was not room for them all in one bunker. I came to reassure them. But now the inruption is over. Apology for delaying you."

"Needless," Sphere said.

Shee looked across the swept landscape. "Ah, there they are now." She waved to the people emerging from other bunkers. "Here!" she called. "They are safe."

"Gratitude, Queen Gale," a Green Chroma parent said.

"Welcome."

Soon the families, reunited, moved on.

"You did not lose my ikon?" Shee inquired teasingly.

The sphere projected an arm and hand holding the ikon.

"Wonderful!" Shee exclaimed, embracing the sphere on the side away from the ikon. She kissed the surface again.

And while the machine was distracted by that contact, Fifth magically switched ikons. Now the masked gear was where the mossball had been.

Then Shee made the rest of Gale's rendezvous with Sphere, conjuring them both to his ship. He had it ready with a compatible pressurized chamber, shifting to human form, with food and couch.

"You care for the welfare of your subjects," he said. "I am coming to understand that. It is an aspect of your gentle living female nature."

"Clarification," she said. "I do care. But my association with you is of a different nature. You know I seduced you as an exercise of power, demonstrating dominance."

"Agreement," he said meekly.

"You know that I love only Havoc, my first and only true passion, and always will. All else is dross."

"Agreement."

"That you can never be more than a passing no fault dalliance for me."

"Understanding."

"That I am your enemy and will seek information to aid the living cultures against the machines."

"Known."

"That I maintain certain secrets I will not share with you, though I will not deceive you in any way that would violate our truce."

"Accepted."

"With that understanding, I am yours for the duration of this mission, simulated pleasure and all to the extent you wish." She opened her arms to him.

He came to her immediately and put his arms around her. "We remain enemies," he said. "I represent the machines and support their side throughout. The outcome of this war is as yet undecided. But I, like all controlling sapient machines, am crafted to relate well to high-level living creatures like the Makers or their equivalents. You are certainly equivalent; on the personal level you have already defeated me. When you kissed me in your Black Chroma zone I was aware of nothing else, though I know it was merely to reassure the children. I crave as much of your simulated pleasure as you will grant me."

She smiled. "In no fault, the relationship is temporary and there is no longer term commitment. But the actions are real, including especially the sex. Sex is one of our major units of currency, especially in the case of females dealing with males." She pressed close, kissed him, and guided him to the couch. "You know this is mostly art and calculation, with little real emotion on my part."

"I know. I desire that art and calculation."

They were soon out of their clothing and intertwined. He penetrated her immediately, thrusting desperately. She accommodated him, making sure to squeeze uniformly rather than rhythmically. Gale had indulged him before; he could notice the difference. She was not interested in climaxing herself, unless that became an issue. This mirrored Gale's attitude, so she did not need pretense in this respect.

"Gratitude," he said. "May we remain as we are, attached?"

"I am yours," she repeated.

"You did not climax."

"Do you wish the simulation?"

"I wish to give you pleasure if I can."

"Compromise: I have an idea for the search. I will accept pleasure from you if you give serious attention to my presentation."

"Agreement!"

"Use your tongue," she said, spreading her legs.

"Appreciation." He got down and gave her oral sex, licking her cleft. He was good at it; obviously he had studied the several forms of human sexual expression before contacting her. She moved slightly, guiding him so that he oriented on the clitoris. She was a machine, but had been crafted to respond as a living human being would. As a Glamor she could achieve an orgasm at any time, in any manner she chose, but preferred to make him work for it.

As Gale would.

"The Makers, if they are hiding among the machines, could be anywhere," Shee said. "The search is likely to be tedious. I presume you have authority to investigate any of the other branches of the machine culture. But there is one place where they could hide where they would be both undiscovered, and be constantly aware of the machines' campaign. That is where we should check first."

He paused. "Question?"

"Don't stop. My pleasure is starting." And it was, though her main intention was to remind him that he was giving her that pleasure. "I am thinking of the Citadel."

His face almost fell into her cleft. He was astonished. Then he regrouped and resumed, letting her make her point.

"This is where I understand your Prime Directive resides," she continued. "In a secret location, diligently protected. I believe no sentient machines are admitted, because no machine can be allowed to interfere with any portion of the prime Directive. It was set up that way by the original Makers, and for tens of thousands of years has been unchanged. The Makers have sunk into sloth and become inactive, according to Havoc, so have had no further interest. But they could enter it freely at any time; they are entitled."

She took a breath. The pleasure was rising. "So could the remnant Makers. The Citadel's guardians would make no distinction. It isn't programmed. The Makers could enter and take over the Citadel. They could even modify the Prime Directive itself."

Sphere choked. That was a good trick for a machine that did not have to eat or breathe. "Don't stop," she reminded him again. This time she truly wanted him to continue, for her orgasm was rising in her core like volcanic magma, ready to pressure its way to the surface.

He resumed, and her pleasure increased like an incoming tide of lava. "The question is, why haven't they? Why haven't they invaded the Citadel and simply turned off the quest for the remnant Makers? That would solve their problem. I think the fact that this has not been done is evidence that they have not gone there. The question is why?"

She paused, for the pleasure was becoming formidable. "I have two conjectures. First, that they lack the ability. That is, the remnant Makers have also deteriorated, as we saw on their planet, so can't do anything sophisticated. This is the answer I favor. Second, that they could have done it, but did not, because they might fear that any such approach and action would tempt them too strongly to accept the service of the machines, a thing they fled fifty thousand years ago. So they remain clear by preference, though the galaxy crumble."

"Third conjecture," Sphere said, pausing. "They are there, but have not yet felt it necessary to act." He returned to his labor.

"In which case we do need to check," she agreed. "Too bad I can't just conjure in and see. But I need known locations, like ship and ground; unknown ones must be visited first by other means." Then the pleasure surged into ecstasy, and she writhed as it took her. It was a genuine orgasm, as powerful as any and she gave herself up to its delight, not concealing it at all. He wanted the overt evidence of her pleasure, and this was authentic. She clamped her thighs on his head and arched her back, pressing her hot wet cleft against his face. The feeling washed over her like mighty waves on a stony beach, swirling and receding and frothing in a complex interactive tide.

Finally it ebbed, leaving her breathing hard, her pulses still racing. She needed neither breath nor pulse, but the emulation was automatic. It was the first time she had climaxed like this without a man inside her.

She became aware that his head was still locked to her cleft. Fortunately he did not need to breathe. She released it. "Appreciation," she said.

He lifted his head. "Appreciation for allowing it."

"It was our deal." She sat up. "Do you know where the Citadel is? I do not."

"Affirmation. But we can't go there."

"Question?"

"I have authority to pursue my mission wherever it may lead. But the Citadel is sacrosanct. No unauthorized machine of any type may enter it, and obtaining authorization would alert the Makers that they were about to be discovered."

"Problem," she agreed.

"We need your more devious living mind to find a way."

"A mind capable of deception," she agreed. "Question: doesn't the Citadel require servicing for its mechanisms and guardians?"

"Affirmation. But these are assigned only there; they do not travel to other sites."

"But are they manufactured there?"

"Negation. Manufacture requires a specialized complex. Replacements are shipped in as necessary, as older machines become worn."

"What about energy to run them? Is it all drawn from sunlight?"

"Negation. Starlight is diffuse, and requires processing to condense into compact energy units that machines use. There is a small local mining operation for natural energy material."

"And the mining machines are manufactured elsewhere?"

"Affirmation."

"What about a two step infiltration? First we pose as replacement mining machines, to get to the planet. Then we change to servitors to get into the Citadel."

"That could be effective. But there remain two problems. There is unlikely to be a need for two new maintenance machines within a century, and I must not facilitate entry by an enemy agent."

"Second problem first. Will you accept my oath merely to observe, and to do no harm to the Citadel or any of its operations?"

He paused, considering.

She kissed him, pressing her breasts against him. Female wiles practiced against a male.

"Acceptance," he said, as he had to.

"Have I just purchased that acceptance by the promise of immediate sex?" she inquired teasingly.

"Negation. My information indicates that you will honor your oath."

She laughed. "Had you been Havoc, you would have taken the sex first, then explained, thus being assured of it."

"I want your favor more than your sex."

"You have it," Shee said, responding as Gale would have. But Shee herself was coming to appreciate the qualities of this high class machine. Sphere was her equivalent, as sophisticated as they came. Only her Glamor status put her beyond him. "Set course for the Citadel, and I will entertain you during the journey."

"Course set," he agreed.

She brought out Gale's hammer dulcimer and put on the finger hammers. "Do you appreciate music?"

"Confirmation. This is part of my crafting, to be ready to entertain a Maker should the need ever arise."

She played a simple accompaniment, staying well within her competence with this instrument, and sang one of the ancient human humorous classics.

Sphere was confused. "I have a problem with terminology."

"In the earlier years of planet Earth, the source of the human culture, they commonly traveled by animal drawn coaches guided by coachmen. They could be a rowdy bunch, celebrating with intoxicating beverages during their off hours."

"Understanding," he said. "Shall we celebrate similarly?"

"Can a machine get intoxicated? As a Glamor I can't."

"Disappointment."

"Perhaps we could fake it."

"Pretense? Agreement."

They drank from imaginary mugs, and soon pretended tipsiness. Then Shee resumed the song.

"Delight!" Sphere said. "Are you such a girl?"

"Yes, except that I will not be a mother again."

"Understanding."

She moved into another round of sex with him, this time kissing him repeatedly in an indication of affection that was not wholly feigned. Gale had been coming to like him; so was Shee. Meanwhile she pondered the first problem: no need for new machines in a century.

And found an answer. "Machines are governed by programs," she said. "A machine can't change its program. But a Glamor could. If you teach me exactly what aspect to change."

"This would be dangerous to teach an enemy agent."

"I made my oath. I will not use this against you or the Citadel. I will of course share it with my people after the mission, but we will not then be within range of the Citadel."

"Accepted."

"You accepted too quickly, again. You might have wrested further favors from me."

"I am not apt at this type of negotiation."

She resumed kissing and stroking him. "I like your naivety." And she did. He taught her the necessary codes.

Meanwhile they traveled to the manufacturing complex that served the region of space that included the Citadel.

This was an impressive development. The entire planet was filled with industrial structures, and there was constant spaceship traffic. All of it was automatic, in the sense that no living creature supervised, only a governing machine that specialized in this one endeavor.

They docked as visitors. Sphere had authority to check for hidden Makers, and did so. There were none.

Meanwhile Shee ranged out with her mind, located the precise program in a logistic supervisory machine, and made a small modification. Clairvoyance and telekinesis: extremely useful, provided the range was not great. This might have been more of a challenge for Gale, but Shee had a better understanding of machines and of matter itself. Gale was right: Shee was better equipped for this mission.

In due course two mining machines were loaded into the cargo hold of Sphere's ship. They were to be delivered to the Citadel base planet.

They departed, setting a wormhole course for the Citadel. "I have not believed that the living cultures had any significant chance for survival against the machines campaign," Sphere said. "They are too vulnerable, in their constant need for food, air, and a controlled environment. But I am beginning to believe. Your Glamor powers over programming, and your sexual power over me, are persuasive."

"Appreciation," she said, commencing another sexual episode. "We seem to be an effective team."

"Request," Sphere said.

"Speak."

"This humanoid form is not my natural one. I adopt it in order to relate to you. When you kissed me on your planet, you seemed to care for me regardless of my form."

"You want sex in your natural form?" She hadn't thought of this.

"If you are not disinclined."

How would Gale react? She knew. "We'll try it and see."

"Gratitude." He shifted back to the sphere shape.

"However—" she began.

Two hands extruded from the top of the sphere. Then a penis, a quarter of the way around.

She took hold of the hands to steady herself. Then she fitted herself onto the penis. She knew Gale had done something similar with a giant flower once, so this remained in character. She took it all the way into her, then brought her body down to press against the surface of the sphere, especially her belly and breasts. She kissed the reflective metal, which formed a mouth to meet hers.

The penis jerked, responding to her caress. His form was not remotely human now, but he was really turned on by her form. "Beauty and the beast," she murmured.

"Question?"

"Ancient Human Culture fable. Lovely woman falls in love with an ugly beast, appreciating his other qualities."

"Appropriate."

She continued to caress his surface, while squeezing his member, and soon she felt his orgasm throbbing, not only within her, but all around his perimeter, which was now glowing in pulses.

There was something about this unusual conjunction that stimulated her.

She went into her own orgasm, clinging to the sphere. His arms lengthened so that his hands could press against her back, holding her close as she panted and clenched. It was just as good a climax as when he had been in humanoid form.

At last she lay strewn across him, sexually surfeit. "You gave me pleasure in your own form," she said.

His whole surface warmed appreciatively.

Thereafter they slept, embraced. For him it was merely a lowering of awareness, but she was able to actually lose consciousness. She woke to find herself still on him, but not uncomfortable. His two hands and his embedded penis were three points that held her conveniently in place.

"Love," he said.

She did not respond verbally. He knew the constraints of their association. But she squeezed his hands and his member. She knew she was giving him phenomenal satisfaction, and it pleased her to do that. Even if she wasn't the one he thought. He was a machine, but it pleased her to dominate him in her fashion, having evoked his sexual appetite.

Eventually they separated. She had food to eat and wastes to eliminate, following the living lifestyle of Gale.

When the wormhole deposited them in the vicinity of the citadel, Shee wondered whether there was a mistake, for that region of space was entirely blank. There was no star, no planets. "Question?"

"We are a Type Two culture," Sphere reminded her. "We can utilize all the energy provided by a given star. We don't do it with all stars, but do with several thousand useful ones. It seems as though there is nothing because no energy, including light escapes."

"A black hole?" she asked, alarmed.

"Negation. Merely an energy capture net, helping to power our myriad endeavors. We are about to pass through it."

Then a star appeared. They were inside a giant bubble that reflected the star's light inward. "Wonder!"

"Pleasure at inciting such emotion in a Glamor."

But she found herself not entirely pleased. As she thought about it, she realized this was because as the Glamor of Matter she did not like this kind of interference in the natural order of matter. Stars existed to radiate their energy into space, sharing it with the galaxy, illuminating their sectors and announcing their presence. In time they would compact and explode, flinging their matter out to form new structures, such as planets. Her clientele. Capturing a star in the manner the machines were doing was like caging a wild beast in a zoo and gradually leaching away its dynamic energy. She felt the star's outrage.

She couldn't express any protest at this time. She was Gale, on a special mission. But she would remember. Havoc had thought Shee would change sides when she became a Glamor. He was so right he must have been guided by Idyll, seeing her intermediate future.

The ship proceeded to the innermost planet. This was relatively tiny, orbiting so close to its star that its surface was burning hot. They had to enter its shadow to safely approach it and land. Nature was defending this site from intrusions perhaps as effectively as machines technology. More power to it; Shee really appreciated matter that protected itself.

She also appreciated the massive, squat edifice that was the Citadel, in the center of the shadow side of the planet, the one place where it would not be melted by the inordinate stellar heat. This was where the dread Prime Directive resided, that told the machines what to do in essence if not in detail. The real ruler of the machines, with the default of the original Makers.

She verified that her ikon worked. The local environment was nonChroma. That helped.

"I think I will have to remain within this ship," Shee said. "There is no environment for me here." Not for Gale, anyway.

"Negation. The Makers are living creatures requiring conditions similar to those used by your species. There are facilities suitable for them, on the planet and in the Citadel itself."

"But I am not a Maker. They will not let me use them."

"Unless you spot reprogram the guardian machines to obtain acceptance."

Shee thought about it. "Too risky. Let's save that for the Citadel itself."

"Acquiescence."

They unloaded the mining machines. Working from the ship, Shee reprogrammed the supervisor unit to accept them. And to issue a small package of concentrated magic fuel for delivery to the Citadel.

Now Shee had to leave the ship. She put on a space suit equipped with temperature control and air. Again, these were for Gale, though as a Glamor Gale could handle airlessness. It was surely more comfortable this way, and saved Glamor energy she might later need.

Shee walked and Sphere rolled into the network of mine tunnels. She carried the fuel package, which was light; the fuel was efficient, and this little bit would power the Citadel for a month. It wasn't the mass that counted, but the intense captured magic.

"The tunnels reach the outer wall of the Citadel," Sphere said. "Nothing goes beyond that wall."

"Except those admitted by programmed directive," she said.

Then there was a rumble, and the tunnel shook. "Concern," he said.

"This planet is volcanic," she said. Her research on Planet Charm, followed by her experience with it, had acquainted her with the habits of volcanoes. They put women to shame with their unpredictable moods.

"Unfamiliarity."

She spread her awareness. Again, as the Glamor of Matter, she related well. "This is a minor partial eruption. Unfortunately it is right in the region we must traverse. There will be spot lava."

"Question?"

"Molten rock that flows like a river. To touch it is to perish. We must avoid it."

"Retreat?"

"Negation. It is essentially random, but as a Glamor I can see its near future paths. Accept my guidance implicitly and we will make it through."

"Were I alive, I would feel fear."

"You wanted to work with a Glamor. This is within Glamor competence. Trust me."

"Trust," he agreed.

She changed course, leading them deeper into the planet. The lava was flowing beyond this region. Then she cut back toward the surface. They were almost past the danger zone.

And the tunnel ended. She had not been looking ahead physically, distracted by tracking the lava streams. She considered bashing the wall of it, which was thin, but the paths showed a collapse. This wall, flimsy as it was, was a necessary support.

"Reverse," she snapped.

They went back the way they had come. And discovered a small stream of lava flowing down the slope toward them. They were trapped.

"Diffuse," Sphere said. "I will block the lava to provide you sufficient time."

So he knew about diffusion. "I can't diffuse the fuel," she said.

"Forget the fuel! Diffuse, go back to the ship, and take off. You will have a chance to escape."

He set himself in the narrowest part of the tunnel so as better to block the lava. It would destroy him, of course, but would give her time.

"Negation. Give me your hands, on short arms."

"Confusion."

"Trust me!" she snapped. The lava was almost upon them, its attendant fumes becoming stifling.

He extended his hands on very short arms. She took them, lifted into the air, and hauled him up under her. She floated over the lava and on to a lodge beyond. She lowered him, then dropped to her own feet. "This will get us there!" She ran ahead.

It did, because she had checked the route clairvoyantly this time. They walked and rolled on until they reached the base of the outer wall of the Citadel, where the tunnel ended. Shee sat own and leaned against the wall, resting for the moment. Carrying him and wearing the space suit had depleted her somewhat. As a machine she was indefatigable, but as a Glamor she could expend more magic energy than her ikon could keep up with, and she needed to let it catch up. "We should wait a while until the time is propitious," she said. "If there is anything you want of me in the interim, ask."

"Why did you save me, Shee?" he asked.

"I made an oath. I wasn't going to—" She paused. "You knew?"

"Affirmation."

"How?"

"Your wastes on the ship were pristine, not digested. There is only one Glamor robot."

"And you were going to sacrifice yourself to save me?"

"I loved one Glamor. Now I love two. I do not wish you harm, and it is necessary that you remain with the human culture."

"Our love making—you pretended I was Gale?"

"Negation."

"Confusion."

"Gale taught me genuine emotion. You continued. You accommodated me in every way, beyond any real necessity. You are as generous and worthy as she."

"I'm a machine!"

"So am I."

He had her there. "This being the case, do you mind if I assume my natural form?"

"Welcome."

She shifted, becoming herself. She felt more comfortable. "Appreciation."

"Why did you take Gale's place?"

"A machine is more competent to understand machines. Gale would have had trouble modifying those programs."

"This was the secret you kept?"

"Affirmation. We tried to give you what you wanted."

"The humans trust you to serve their interest?"

"They trust a Glamor to serve their interest. They are correct. I do love Havoc, and will help them all I can. I still think the machines will win, but I support the Living Cultures Coalition. I will not betray you personally, but I am indeed your enemy."

"Just like Gale."

"Just like Gale," she agreed.

"You said that if there was anything I wanted of you, to ask."

"Should I change back to Gale's form?"

"Negation."

"I can survive without the suit, but if I let the air out, I will not be able to talk to you."

"Retain the suit. It is the expression of interest I desire."

"From Shee?"

"From either."

"Come here, Sphere." She spread her suited arms.

He rolled into her. She held him in her embrace and kissed the contact between her faceplate and his surface. "Satisfaction," he said. "You tried to save me at your own expense, when you knew," she said. "This sort of thing impresses a girl."

"Welcome."

"I think we are becoming friends despite our differences."

"Concurrence."

"When we are safely clear of this, we can be naked together, again."

"Delight."

She lifted her head. "The paths are coalescing. Now I can modify the admission program. Give me the codes."

He did, and she did. Then they walked back along the tunnel to an intersection, and followed that around to the main entrance. The portal opened and they went through. The portal machine did not seem to notice that they were not standard servitors; it was not at that level of sophistication.

She set the fuel package on the counter reserved for it. They had done their nominal chore. Then they moved on into the interior of the Citadel unopposed.

"There are no Makers here," she said as she extended her awareness.

"Disappointment."

"Relief."

"We had better leave."

There was a faint beep.

"Mischief," Sphere said. "That was a random check. They have discovered intruders."

"Then we had better hurry."

But it was already too late. Her near future seeing verified that an obscure path she had overlooked—the random check—had abruptly taken form, and all other paths were damped out. They were trapped.

"You are legitimate," she said. "You can remain here."

"Negation. I am not in my assignment area. I will be rendered surplus."

"Then we both need to escape."

"You must escape. With the failure of my mission, I am irrelevant."

"Both," she repeated firmly. "I need you to pilot the ship out of here."

"Copy the method from my data bank."

"Don't argue with me, machine! We are both getting out of here." She realized as she spoke that she was not being completely rational. Was it because she was female, or a Glamor? Had her empathy circuit distorted her objectivity? Or had she developed an attachment to her companion?

"What is the time frame?"

"Perhaps an hour. My future sensing is imperfect because my machine far-future seeing wars with my Glamor near-future seeing. We need to get out of here within that time."

"You can diffuse. I can not. Can you conjure us to the ship?"

"My awareness of the two sites is not sufficient. The attempt would be dangerous. Any other suggestion?"

"I am not an original thinker."

Because he was a straight machine, albeit a sentient and sapient one. He could choose between routine alternatives, but was not creative. She would have to figure this out herself. She focused, and got it. "This place is pressurized and supplied with food for the Makers. It must also have a waste disposal system, for their refuse."

"Accuracy."

"We'll take you apart and flush you down the toilet, as it were, piece by piece. That will get you out of here. They won't check the garbage. Then I will diffuse and rejoin you, in both senses, in the dump."

"The refuse would be recycled."

"But there must be a holding area for it, to let it collect until there's a sufficient load. It's not efficient to process it piece by piece."

"Correct."

"That's where I'll intercept you. But this will require a considerable exercise of trust on your part. Do you trust me?"

"Affirmation."

"I will put you together in reverse order of disassembly, hoping no piece gets lost. Help me as you are able."

"Cooperation." But he paused momentarily.

She smiled. She put her arms around him and kissed his surface. "Affection, Sphere."

"Appreciation." A machine could indeed love, as she knew from her own experience with Havoc.

Then his surface developed lines, and he fragmented, falling into several sections. The malleability of his form was gone; he had turned off his animation. His assorted innards were in a loose pile.

She located the disposal aperture, which was a descending tube. She put a fragment into it. A jet of water came and washed it down and out of sight.

She fed the other fragments into the aperture one by one, watching them wash away. One of his hands held her ikon; she used two other pieces to pick it up and toss it in. His penis was stiffened in the flaccid state; she kissed it and tossed it. Other units were his power source, his hydraulic reservoir, his sensors, his data bank, and his central processing array: his brain. All inert and without character, by themselves. The job was complete well within the hour, thanks to his cooperation. He did trust her.

She diffused. This was a slow process, partly because she had not had occasion to practice it a lot, and partly because her metal frame was dense. She was amazed on one level that she could do it at all; she had thought originally that only living creatures could do it. But it was part of the situation of being a Glamor. Glamors could do things others could not. It wasn't just a matter of having a steady supply of magic.

By the time the last of her solid body was gone, her cloud form filled the Citadel. She was aware of all of it, including especially the housing of the Prime Directive. How easy it would be to open its casing and reach inside to tamper with it! But two things prevented her. First, she did not know machine programming of this level, and probably would botch it, making the machines worse than they were. Second, she had given her word not to. Her oath.

A Glamor oath was akin to a machine program: it could not be breached.

She infused herself into the disposal chute and followed it down and out of the Citadel. The machines were still organizing their advance on the Citadel; they had no notion what she was doing.

She found the collection chamber—the dump—and slowly coalesced there. This was pressurized, as it connected directly to the Citadel, so she could breathe if she found it convenient. The pieces were piled in a large basket that would in due course be dumped into the recycling maw.

She assembled them, her machine memory putting each in its right location. There were no wires or bolts; the pieces were modular, connecting automatically to each other when correctly placed. The sphere quickly took shape. No pieces were missing.

When she placed the last piece, Sphere animated. "Situation report: I am intact."

"Even your penis," she agreed. "I did not arrange to lose it."

"Appreciation."

"Now let's get out of here."

There was a service hatch they used to exit the chamber. She climbed out, then reached back down to catch his extended hand and haul him up.

There was a noise. A mobile service machine had sensed them and was coming to investigate. It was male.

Shee acted on impulse. She strode quickly to the machine and laid her hand on his surface. "All is in order. Ignore us."

The machine turned and went back to his cubbyhole.

"Question?"

"My maidenly charms pacified it," she explained. "Also, it is primitive, set to obey a more advanced machine." Yet not so primitive as to lack gender. "Sense," he agreed.

Thereafter it was routine. She guided them back in much the manner they had come, following the tunnels, avoiding the lava flows, staying clear of supervisory mining machines. They returned to the ship, forged a departure directive, and took off. The machines had not made the connection between the ship and the intrusion into the Citadel.

That would have required imagination.

Safely in space, they relaxed. "I am sorry we did not find the Makers," she said. "I think if they had been anywhere, that was where. I no longer think they are hiding among the machines."

"Agreement. I have no further mission. I am surplus."

"Stop that!" she snapped. "They still could be elsewhere in the galaxy. Your mission is not complete until every possible hiding place has been checked."

"Are you directing me to continue?"

She was taken aback. "It is not my place to direct you. We are enemies, associating under truce."

He considered, then rephrased. "It is your preference that I continue?"

He actually wanted a directive from her? Then she would oblige. "Affirmation."

"I will continue," he said. "But I hope we can associate. I can't be your enemy."

The revelation came. "You're in love with me!"

"Affirmation. With you and Gale."

"In time this war will be over, at least the human portion. If we win, I will claim you as booty. If the machines win, you can claim Gale and me as concubines. Assuming we survive."

"Make the preferred deal. Have Voila enlist with the machines. Then we can associate on an equal basis."

"That would be nice," she agreed. "But I don't think Voila will ever do it."

"Concurrence," he agreed morosely.

"However, you will need a Glamor in your continued quest for the Makers. I must return to Havoc, as was the case with Gale. Will you accept another Glamor?"

"It is not my place to question any Glamor."

That was an interesting rephrasing of her prior demurral. "I believe the Red Glamor is available. I will introduce you to her."

"I am familiar with her history. She will do, if she is amenable."

"She should be. She's another lusty wench." Shee paused. "I will leave you when we return to Charm. The only time we can be sure of having together is right now. Let's make it count."

"Agreement."

They went at it, making it count. Because Shee feared that this window of opportunity for a continuing relationship had been lost. Had they found the Makers, the war of the machines against the galaxy might have stopped.

Now it would continue, with all its dreadful repercussions. It was really too bad.