Phaze Doubt

3 - Decision

After polite dialogue of the adult kind, Citizen Blue packed Lysander off with Alyc for the familiarization tour of Proton. But he held Nepe with the tiniest indication of a finger. She faded back, but did not depart. She had known it would be thus.

When things were clear, the Citizen held a brief meeting with Sheen, Agnes the maid, and Nepe. “Verdict?” he asked Nepe.

“Clef piped out his soul, and says he may be the one.”

Blue nodded. “I thought that might be the case. His arrival was too pat. How much is Clef sure of?”

Nepe shrugged. “He didn’t say, because ‘Sander was there. Just that there’s a prophecy, and he might qualify as the special person we want to help us get through the bad time.”

Agnes snorted. “Special person! The man’s an enemy agent!”

“If he is the one,” the Citizen said. “And if he is the one, we desperately need him. I don’t think Clef would have mentioned the prophecy if he wasn’t fairly sure.”

“He may be sure the man is an enemy,” Sheen said, “but not that he is the one we need.”

Blue nodded. “It would be premature to take action at this time. But at least we can use this as a focus for our investigation. I shall arrange to keep him occupied with the Game Computer.”

Sheen pursed her lips in exactly the fashion of a living woman. “But if he is versed in computer circuitry—“

“Have no fear, my love; he will not have access to the circuitry. The Oracle will divert him cleverly enough. Meanwhile, we shall be taking his measure, and discover perhaps in exactly what way he may be useful to our effort.”

Sheen nodded, satisfied. If the Oracle was working on this, there would be no errors.

Blue glanced at Nepe. “You and Nessie know what to do.”

Nepe nodded. So did Agnes.

“We shall cover for you as required,” Blue concluded. “Otherwise, you’re on your own. Project Phaze Doubt depends on you.”

She laughed, though she knew it wasn’t funny. “Phased out by a little girl!”

He smiled. “Don’t get cute, amoeba face. We love you, and want you to succeed.”

How true that was! She would keep her doubt to herself, and do her utmost to complete her mission. She could not afford to dwell on its immense responsibility; she would tackle one step at a time.

Nepe went up and embraced her grandfather, then her grandmother. “Nessie will update me,” she said, wiping away a tear.

“And so will we, while we can,” the Citizen said. “Until Alyc turns us in.”

Another laugh bubbled up in Nepe, despite the gravity of the situation. “Maybe she’ll turn him in too!”

“Maybe,” Blue said, smiling.

Then Nepe took Agnes’ hand. “Follow my lead, Grandam.”

The woman nodded. Nepe changed to Flach and conjured the two of them to a vacant chamber across the city. There she reverted to Nepe-form, and melted into a pool of protoplasm. Agnes, who was Nepe’s mother’s elder portion, melted with her. Soon the two Moebites were flowing across the floor, and into a disused drain channel.

I don’t think anyone’s watching. Nepe thought, her direct contact with a creature of her species making communication possible, though they were not telepathic. It was simply a matter of tangential nerve signals. But we don’t know how many other spies there are, or when the invasion’s coming, so we have to be careful.

Agreed.

This leads outside, near a horse range. Flach’ll be a horsefly, till we get to Clef.

Just don’t bite me!

Nepe sent a peal of laughter that jarred loose the contact.

They flowed out of the pipe and settled on the ground. It had been seeded after the mergence, but the grass had not yet filled in completely near the dome.

Nepe shaped herself back into girl form, hiding against the wall, then became Flach, who would have had trouble dealing with puddle form. The mutability of the Moeba complemented that of the Adept, each able to change in ways the other could not. They found it best to assume human form at the exchange platform, to avoid miscues.

Flach became the horsefly. He buzzed up, looking around with his multifaceted eyes. There were horses grazing not far off, attended only by a mobile watering station.

He buzzed down to Agnes. He touched her briefly and sheered off.

She was more facile than he in the change, having had more experience. She went directly from pooled protoplasm to unicorn, standing in the shadow, where her black hide helped her fade out. She had white socks on her hind legs, and a spiraled horn. She was Neysa, the Adept Stile’s longtime companion, and perhaps the one who knew Flach best.

Flach flew down to light on her head, between her ears. She walked beside the wall until the site of their emergence from it was not clear, then turned outward. She put her head down to take a bite of grass, so that the watering robot would see the outline of a grazing horse. After a moment she moved on, keeping her horn angled away from the machine.

In this manner she worked her way to the fringe of the seeded turf. Then she stepped out onto the natural ground of Phaze, and quickly lost herself in the higher bushes growing there. Once she was fully clear of the dome of Hardom, she worked into a trot, moving at moderate speed westward, then southwest, toward the great Purple Mountain Range. If anyone saw her now, she was just one more unicorn traveling her own course, like so many who ranged out from the Herd to find choice foraging.

As afternoon closed they came to the mountains. Flach remained in fly form, taking no chances. Even if it wasn’t necessary right now, it was good policy for the future.

As they neared the residence of Clef and Tania, Flach buzzed off Neysa’s head, and she assumed her third form: a firefly. As horsefly and firefly, they buzzed up to the cottage. They flew to the picture window, and Flach banged against it several times, making a noise.

In a moment Tania spied him. She nodded, and opened a smaller window. The two flew in, lighted on the floor, and assumed their human forms.

“We were expecting you,” Clef said, joining them.

“I be glad to see thee here, our past differences done,” Tania said separately to Neysa.

“Thou didst shame me to forgiving my filly,” Neysa responded to her.

“Because I loved Bane—and Fleta,” Tania said. “Before Clef came, and fulfilled my life.”

“It was mutual,” Clef said. “Now I suspect you want my full report on the visitor.”

“Grandpa Blue has put us on alert,” Nepe said, taking over from Flach. She was better at talking, and at Proton matters. “But he needs to know more before he acts.”

“I am as yet not adept, as it were, at reading souls,” Clef said. “But there is no doubt in my mind that Lysander is a hostile agent. He appears to mean no personal ill to us, but his loyalty is to a foreign power. When that power strikes, he will support it.”

“Yes, Grandpa Blue is investigating his origin. He’ll find out who ‘Sander works for. But since the prophecy says that only the right one can save us, that won’t be enough. We have to know if he’s the one.”

“Exactly,” Clef said. “The difficulty is that Lysander doesn’t know the answer himself. That is why I mentioned the prophecy. I hoped to elicit some reaction that would clarify the matter. But there seemed to be only perplexity.”

“Exactly what is the prophecy, and what does it say?” Tania inquired. “I had not heard of it before.”

“Trool came across it in the Book of Magic,” Clef said. “He had seen it before, but it wasn’t relevant to the immediacies of prior situations, and there is so much in that book that he ignored it. But when we merged the frames, he remembered, and spoke of it to a few of us. We did not bruit it further about, not wishing to alarm others. But suddenly its relevance is manifest. The wording is simple, just two sentences: ‘When frames merge, comes a time of great trial. Only one alien to the culture and opposed can save it—an he choose.’ We interpret that to mean that an enemy will attack, and that a member of the enemy force can help us prevail, if we can convince him to do it.”

“It could be a female,” Tania pointed out.

Clef shrugged. “Yes, of course. But from offplanet, and not conversant with our ways. So we are considering Lysander, who represents an alien force. I think we dare not assume he is not the one. If other prospects appear, we must consider them too.”

“Like Alyc,” Nepe said.

“Yes,” he said. “And any other foreign agent. If we were to eliminate any one of them, we might doom ourselves. But Alyc is human, and has adapted well to the culture, so we doubt it is her. Lysander, in contrast is an extremely sophisticated android. I would like very much to know what kind of brain he has. When I piped out his soul, the part that associated with the body was ordinary, but the pan that was the brain, and therefore the mind, was as strange as I have seen. Certainly it is alien! So Lysander seems to be a far more likely candidate.”

“If he choose,” Tania said. “I might make him choose.”

“You could compel him to do our bidding, dear,” Clef said. “But that might destroy his usefulness. I suspect we will need his full understanding and cooperation, which would be another matter. Also, if his mind is truly alien, you might have difficulty exerting your magic on him.”

She nodded, appreciating the point. “Then perhaps it is better to give him reason to support our culture. Suppose he fell in love with one of our women?”

“That has been known to achieve remarkable things in the past,” Clef said with a bit of a smile.

“When my father Mach loved the unicorn filly Fleta,” Flach said, “all Phaze and Proton changed.”

“And when I loved Bane, I changed too,” Tania said. “I know the power of love, even that which be not returned! But can an alien thing love similarly?”

“Lysander is schooled to emulate human ways,” Clef said. “His reactions here were normal. Unless his core personality is unable to love, I think he should be normal in that respect also.”

“Then methinks we needs must find him a woman,” she said.

“He has a woman: Alyc,” Nepe said.

Neysa snorted.

Tania turned her great eyes on Nepe. “Thou knowest we must link him to one o’ our own.”

“I guess so,” Nepe agreed. “Maybe the enemy’s using Alyc to keep him in line.”

“I would tend to doubt that,” Clef said. “The most effective spies I should think would be those who do not know the identities of the others. That way, if one is discovered, he can not give away the presence of the others. I think the presence of two in Citizen Blue’s household must be coincidence—or, if not, their true natures must still be concealed from each other. So they would be unlikely to discuss the details of their conspiracy. However, if they did, Blue would soon know of it.”

“But while they are together, we can’t put one of our own with him,” Tania said.

“Alyc has a short attention span with men,” Nepe said. “Her romances seldom last longer than two or three weeks.”

“Even that might be too long,” Clef said. “We need time to work on him.”

“Choose a woman, and introduce her to him,” Tania said. “Then she’ll be there when he breaks from Alyc. She may even take him from Alyc.”

“Thou tookst Bane not from Agape,” Flach said, a trifle smugly. He knew that Tania had had four years to try, and hadn’t made a dent. Instead she had lost her own heart to Bane, until Clef won her with his magic music.

“Thy sires were one hell of a lot better men than Lysander,” Tania said. “Lysander I could take, an I wished.”

“You may have to, if our ploy fails,” Clef murmured. “That’s why I prevented you from using your power on him at this time. It may be needed more critically later.”

Tania made a face. “I will do what I needs must do, but I loathe the prospect. Thou be not the first I loved, but thou surely be the last.”

“So what woman?” Nepe asked. “A nice wolf bitch? Some of them are sexier than human women. Ask Flach.”

Flach took over, embarrassed. “She be always teasing me about that. I want just to mate with my Promised, Sirelmoba, an we come of age. But Nepe be right: meseen what a bitch can do with a grown man, an she chose.”

“But an she be a dog in Proton, that be no good,” Tania pointed out.

“Brown is close to the wolves,” Clef said. “She should know which ones have suitable analogues.”

“I know,” Flach said, annoyed. “I be closer than any!”

“Of course thou dost be,” Tania said. “Clef be gone from Phaze then. Who dost thou recommend?”

Now Flach was taken aback. “Actually, they be all Promised or mated, in my Pack.”

“So we might as well ask Brown,” she said.

He had to yield. “Aye.” He looked at Neysa, who had been mostly silent, as was her wont. “But mayhap my turn to move us?”

Neysa was never keen on Adept magic, but respected it in her grandchild. She nodded, knowing that his way would be both faster and less obvious.

Flach took her hand, and conjured them both to the Brown Demesnes. A given spell could work only once, but he had devised so many variants for conjuration that this was no limitation. They landed in the massive wooden castle, in a private chamber reserved for just such events. Flach knocked rhythmically against a panel, signaling their presence.

Soon a wooden golem tramped to the door. The Brown Adept could make them in the perfect image and manner of living folk, but around the castle she didn’t bother. This one was obviously inanimate, despite its activity. “Who comes?” it demanded.

“Flach and Grandam,” Flach said.

“Then follow me.” The thing about-faced and led them down the hall.

The Brown Adept awaited them in the main chamber. She was a somewhat spare woman with clipped brown hair, much the color of the wood she worked with. “Ah, Flach!” she exclaimed. “And Neysa! It be good to see thee, mare!” Neysa was now in human form, but of course Brown knew her. They had been friends for thirty years, ever since Stile had met Brown when she was ten.

“We come from Clef,” Flach said. “Can anyone hear?”

“Mayhap,” Brown said. “I have, as thou dost know, two prisoners. They be under geis nor to harm me neither to escape, but their magic be not entirely stifled.”

“Mayhap I can make a privacy spell,” Flach said. “But first should I make sure where they be.”

“It be near their feeding time,” Brown said. “Come see them while I do it.”

They followed her to the kitchen, where a golem chef had prepared a platter. “Thou dost feed them well,” Flach remarked, smelling the aroma. “Pumpkinseed pie!”

“My garden be fertilized with unicorn manure,” Brown replied. “From it comes the very best pumpkinseeds, so many I can do naught but bake. It were unkind to share not.”

“Then share with me!” Flach said eagerly.

“Aye, lad, and gladly,” she agreed. “Canst stay the night?”

“I fear not,” he said. “But we can eat while we talk. E’en my grandam likes pumpkinseed pie!” He glanced at Neysa, who did not protest. It was a taste they shared.

A golem carried the platter. They followed it to the cellar, where the prisoners were housed. There were no bars, but that didn’t matter; there were stout golem guards who could not be corrupted, and who never slept.

The chambers were surprisingly pleasant. It was a well-organized suite, with curtains and cushions and pictures on the wall. One of them was a magic window which showed scenes of Phaze as desired: the unicorn range, ogre dens, ocean shore, or mountains. Flach had never understood why the Brown Adept had volunteered to house the prisoners; perhaps she had been the only one able to handle this chore. Flach’s grandfather had not wished to kill them, though they deserved death; but they could not be allowed to run loose. So they were confined, and a geis suppressed their magic, and they were here for the duration.

The prisoners were ready in the main chamber. They were the Purple Adept and the Tan Adept, also being Citizen Purple and Citizen Tan, Tania’s brother. Actually their titles had been stripped; Tania had assumed her brother’s status, and the Purple Demesnes were vacant. But their magic remained; were it not for the geis, they would be extremely dangerous men.

Both stood as the party entered. “Good evening, Adept,” Purple said. He wore a modest purple robe, and was clean and neat. He was by no means a handsome man, but might be called portly. Tan, on the other hand, was in the vigor of life, so like his twin sister in appearance and talent that it was eerie. Flach had hated both Tan and Tania, until Tania changed sides and rendered the vital help that enabled Stile/Blue to win.

“Good evening, Purple,” Brown said briefly. “Good evening, Tan. Are you in satisfactory form?”

“Excellent form, Adept,” Tan said. “We thank thee for thy excellent care.”

The golem set down the platter. “Then I will leave you to it,” Brown said. “I have company.”

“So we note,” Purple said, glancing at Flach. “Mayst thou prosper, Adept.”

Flach didn’t really like being called Adept, but it was true: he had magic enough to qualify. “Thank thee, Purple.”

Tan turned his hypnotic eyes on Neysa. “And still spry, mare,” he remarked. Neysa did not bother to answer.

They departed the prison section. “Now I have them placed,” Flach said, “I can set my privacy spell. They be demoted, but they be Adepts yet, in magic, else such care were not needed.”

“Nay,” Neysa said. “Needs must we go on immediately.”

Flach turned to her in surprise. “But Grandam, the pie!”

“It be excellent pie, an I do say so myself,” Brown said. “There be no need to rush on. I welcome the company.”

“Remembered I aught,” Neysa said.

Flach was perplexed and dismayed. He knew better than to naysay his grandam, though he was Adept and she was not. He would have to give up the pie.

“Have I given offense?” Brown asked, a hysterical edge sounding in her voice. “Neysa, please, I apologize—“

Neysa stopped and took Brown by the hands. “I have known thee long,” she said. “I will return alone. Needs must I now see my grandfoal to Trool. There be no offense.” It was a singularly long speech, for her.

“Thou willst return,” Brown said. It sounded like a prayer.

“Aye.” Neysa took Flach’s hand. “On, Flach,” she said, squeezing his fingers in a way he recognized. She was serious, and would brook no delay.

He conjured them to the Red Demesnes, a similar chamber in Trool’s castle. He broached her on it immediately. “Grandam—“

“Aught be amiss,” Neysa said. “Needs must I fathom it, ere secrets be told. Conjure me back to Brown, and excuse me to Red. Say naught o’ this.”

“But Trool be—“

“To other than him,” she amended. “Send me.”

Baffled, he conjured her back. Then he knocked on the closed chamber door, to let Trool know of his arrival.

In a moment, lovely Suchevane was there. “Ah, Flach,” she said, hugging him. He always liked that, for she was not only the prettiest woman of her age, she was one of the nicest. “Come join us at sup; we have pumpkinseed pie.”

“We lucked out!” Nepe exclaimed, taking over.

Suchevane conducted Nepe downstairs to the dining hall. There was Trool the Troll, now the Red Adept, and his son Alien. Trool lifted a finger, and abruptly Nepe was clothed in a fluffy dress. “Oh—thanks,” she said. “I forgot!”

For normally it was Nepe who visited this household, because Alien was sweet on her and she liked the attention. Originally it had been Alien’s Proton alternate, ‘Corn, who had the feeling, but it had spread to both.

The pie was served, but between mouthfuls Nepe made their mission known. It did not matter that Suchevane and Alien were present; this whole family was to be trusted.

“So thou dost need a mistress to corrupt an enemy agent,” Trool said. “Methinks that be not much in our line.”

Alien chuckled. “But an I grow up, I’ll need me a mistress,” he said, leering at Nepe.

Nepe stuck out her tongue at him. “This is all adult stuff I don’t understand,” she said. “I’m just carrying the word.”

Suchevane choked over her tomato juice, which she drank because of the color. “All thy experience emulating Troubot in Proton-frame, and thou dost ken naught?”

Nepe glanced at her with obviously faked innocence. “Won’t wash?” For Troubot, in that period, had carried the most intimate messages between Citizens, including those setting up sexual liaisons between Citizen Purple and Tania’s sexy secretary Tsetse. Troubot could hardly have been innocent of the ways of sex, since the robot also monitored the ongoing activities.

But the memory gave her a notion. “Tsetse! She’s anybody’s mistress!”

“She be old}” Alien protested. “Thirty, at least!”

“Twenty-nine plus a few months,” Suchevane said. “Just younger than Tania—and me.”

Alien shut up, knowing when to quit.

“However,” Suchevane continued, “I fear she would be ill for this purpose, for other reasons. She be a singleton—no Phaze opposite, no merging. She worked in Proton not long enough before the mergence. Best we choose one firmly rooted in both cultures.”

Trool nodded agreement. His alternate had been Citizen Troal, and Suchevane’s had been the Bat Girl. They preferred the Phaze mode, but both knew Proton well and maintained their places in it.

“Also, Tsetse’s bisexual,” Nepe said. “She can make it with any man, but she prefers women. So scratch that.”

“Let me check the Book,” Trool said, getting up.

“May I come too?” Nepe asked, gulping down her last mouthful of pie and getting up.

The Adept shrugged. “An thou dost wish.”

“I’ll take thy seconds!” Alien warned her.

Nepe hesitated just long enough, then resumed her motion “It’s fattening anyway.”

In Trool’s private chamber, where he kept the phenomena] Book of Magic, the compendium of the most potent spells of Phaze, Flach took over. “There be a problem, mayhap. Adept.”

“Aye, so methought when Neysa left thee here,” Trool said.

“We were on our mission, and about to inquire of Brown, when Grandam hustled me here instead,” Flach said. “This be not her way.”

“She recognized a problem with Brown she knew not of before,” Trool said. “She realized that thy mission were not best bruited there.”

“Thou knowest?” Flach asked, not really surprised. Trool was the most versatile of the Adepts, and he made it his business to keep informed. “What be the problem?”

“It were not kind to say it,” Trool said. “But methinks Neysa be correct: until it be abated, say naught to Brown.”

“But Brown be no traitor!”

“Aye. But why burden her with more when she has much already? Question thy grandam naught on this; she be sworn to privacy, and it bear not on thy mission.”

Flach did not like being excluded from anything, but realized that he could not debate the matter with Trool and Neysa. “Then canst find a woman for ‘Sander?”

“Aye. There be a vamp seems suitable. Winsome, committed, and between men.”

Flach was gratified. Trool of course related well to the vampire community, being married to one of their number. His presence had protected the local Flock from molestation by goblins and, yes, trolls. “Who be she?”

“Jodabyle, age twenty in man years. In Proton she be named Jod’e, of android persuasion.”

“Android! And he be android!”

“Aye. So it seem a fair match.”

“Willst tell her his nature?”

“Nay. She must be innocent—but loyal.”

“But an she love him, and he betray her, what o’ her?”

“What o’ Phaze?” Trool asked in return.

Flach nodded, if this ploy failed, their entire planet might be doomed. The happiness of one person became incidental. “I follow. But I like it not.”

“Thou dost now appreciate the ugliness o’ the choice o’ the lesser evil.”

“Aye.” Flach brooded a moment, then got practical. “How may she be introduced to him?”

“We shall arrange a coincidental meeting. Till things sour with his present lady friend, that be the extent o’ it.”

“What now for me? I know not when Grandam will return.”

“Remain here, an thou wishest,” Trool said, closing the Book. “Alien likes thy company, and Nepe’s too.”

“But needs must I update Grandpa Blue.”

“Nay, best that thou remain clear o’ him till this be done, that thy travels yield little hint o’ our effort. We know not how many spies o’ the enemy be among us.”

“Dost know the enemy?”

“Aye. It be an alien galactic species called the Hectare. They may move within the month.”

“But if we know—“

“They possess enormous power. We can oppose them not.”

“But with magic—“

Trool shook his head. “We would take such losses as to make it not worthwhile, including mayhap our planet itself. They could destroy it from afar, gi’ing us ne’er a chance. We needs must depend on the prophecy. All our leading figures will be prisoner, we think not maltreated, but helpless to oppose the invader.”

Flach realized that if Trool said it, it had to be true. “Then this mission with the woman be most important.”

“Aye. And thy freedom be vital too. Surrender to them not.”

“I have more part in this?” Flach asked, surprised.

“Aye. We depend much on thee, in both thy forms. More I may not say.”

They left the chamber. Flach, troubled, let Nepe take over. He knew why Trool was not telling him more: so he could not betray others who might be pan of it, if he got caught. Just as the vamp-girl would not be told her role. At least it meant that the elders were doing what they could.

Nepe behaved in a childlike manner, except when she flirted with Alien, pretending that all was well. But she knew it wasn’t. Her sleep that night was uneasy. How bad was it going to be, if all the major figures of the planet were to be taken captive? And what had bothered Neysa so much that she had interrupted even this mission to talk to Brown alone? Trool said it did not affect Nepe or Flach’s own mission, but she wasn’t sure. Anything their grandam took seriously affected them.