"That's what I really want to understand," Stile said. "The frames may separate, but I don't see why that should destroy them unless, like Siamese twins, they can't exist apart."
"They can exist apart. To make the problem clear, I have to clarify parallelism. It's not just people; the entire landscape is similar. A change made in one frame and not in the other creates an imbalance and puts a strain on the entire framework. Dig a hole in the ground in Proton, and the stress won't be alleviated until a similar hole is made in Phaze. Unfortunately there is no natural way to do that, so the stress continues to build. Eventually something will snap — and we are now very close to the snapping point."
"Ah, I see. Like damming a stream — the water builds up behind and falls away on the other side, until it either spills over or breaks the dam. And we don't want the dam to burst."
"Indeed we don't. So we have to find a way to alleviate the pressure. We don't know what will happen if the frames equalize in their own fashion, but it would probably wipe out most of the inhabitants of both frames."
"So we need to fill holes and drain waters," Stile said. "Seems simple enough."
"Not so. Not so at all. You reckon without the human dynamics. You see, the major imbalance, the largest hole in the ground, literally, is from the mining of Protonite. This is displacing huge quantities of material, creating a substantial physical imbalance, and worse yet-"
"Protonite," Stile said. "In the other frame it's Phazite — the source of the energy for magic."
"Exactly. That makes the problem critical, and the solution almost prohibitively difficult. The Citizens are not about to stop mining Protonite voluntarily. Not until every last dreg of it is gone, like the original atmosphere. Protonite is the basis of their wealth and power. If it were only sand, we could arrange to transfer a few thousand tons from one frame to the other, relieving the imbalance. But as it is-"
"But if that much Protonite, ah, Phazite were transferred out, to restore the balance, what would happen to the magic?"
"It would be reduced to about half its present potency. The Oracle has calculated this carefully. The power of the Adepts, who are the main users, would diminish accordingly. They would not be able to dominate Phaze as they do now."
"That might not be a bad thing," Stile said. "And the Proton Citizens-"
"Their mining would have to be severely curtailed, perhaps cease entirely. They would have no renewal of their present resources. The galaxy would have to discover new sources of energy."
"But the galaxy depends on Protonite! Nothing matches it! There would be phenomenal repercussions!"
"Yes, that is why taking action is difficult. Civilization as we know it will have to change, and that will not
occur easily. Yet the alternative, the Oracle says, may be the complete destruction of this planet — which would also cut off the galaxy's supply of Protonite."
"I begin to comprehend the forces operating," Stile said. "The end of Phaze and Proton is approaching, and we have to do something. But both Citizens and Adepts would oppose the cutoff of Protonite mining and the transfer of Phazite, because without free use of this mineral their status suffers greatly. That's why the Adepts are after me now, and think that my elimination will alleviate their problem; they fear I can do something that will deplete them all-"
"You can."
"And that's why the self-willed machines knew I would have to become the wealthiest of Citizens. Wealth is power in Proton, and I need to be able to withstand the formidable opposition of the Citizens when this thing breaks."
"Exactly. You need enough of a voting bloc to tip the balance in your favor."
So many things were falling into place! "But why, then, did the computer try to destroy me? I don't want to see either Proton or Phaze come to harm and I should certainly work to achieve the best compromise. Why did the Oracle sic the Red Adept on me?"
"Because only you — and I — can do the job that must be done. A man who can cross the curtain freely, who is powerful in each frame, and who has the ability and conscience to carry through. A man who is essentially incorruptible without being stupid. The Blue Adept, your other self, was too limited; he could not cross the curtain, so he had no base in Proton, no experience with that society. He had lived all his life with magic; he depended on it. He would have been largely helpless in Proton during the crisis."
"So the Oracle killed him?" Stile demanded incredulously. "Just because he wasn't perfect? Why didn't the Oracle select someone else for the job?"
"The Oracle selected you, Stile. You had his excellent qualities, and you had lived a more challenging life; you were better equipped. But you could not enter Phaze. So the Blue Adept had to be eliminated — I do not speak of this with approval — in order to free you to cross the curtain. Had the decision gone the other way, you would have been the one killed, to free him to cross into Proton."
"But the attempt was made on me too!" Stile protested, shaken by this cold calculation.
"It was blocked in Proton," Clef said. "I knew nothing of this when I encountered you in the Tourney; believe me, I was appalled. But you were protected. The Oracle sent a second message-"
"The message!" Stile exclaimed. "I was trying to trace it! The Oracle-" But this, too, was coming clear now. One message to start the murder process, the other to intercept and nullify part of it. Diabolically efficient!
"Now you have been prepared," Clef continued. "The computer expects you to organize the juxtaposition and transfer."
"I'm not at all sure I want to cooperate with this emotionless machine. It has entirely disrupted my life, not stopping even at murder. What it put the Lady Blue through, and my friend Hulk-" Stile shook his head. "This is not the sort of thing I care to tolerate."
"I agree. But it seems the alternative is to let both frames crash."
"Or so the cynical Oracle says," Stile said. "That machine has shown itself to be completely unscrupulous in the manipulation of people and events. Why should I believe it now?"
"The Little Folk believe it," Clef said. "They despise it and want to be rid of it, but they believe it. It is a machine, programmed for truth, not for conscience. So its methods are ruthless, but never has it lied. Its sole purpose is to negotiate the crisis with minimum havoc, and it seems that the grief inflicted on you was merely part of the most rational strategy. It has no human will to power and, once it returns to Proton, it will serve its master absolutely."
"And who will its master be?"
"You, I think. I am called the Foreordained, but I believe the term is most applicable to you. Perhaps it was applied to me as a decoy, to prevent your premature destruction." He smiled, appreciating the irony. "The Oracle prophesies that Blue will govern Proton in the difficult period following separation of the frames. As you may have gathered, there is no limit on information when it deals with me. The computer will help you govern Proton, and the book of magic will assist the one who takes power from the Adepts in Phaze."