The odd thing was, she was not pretending. She really did feel for him. "Appreciation," he flashed, out of sorts.
"Would you like me to damp down those dreadful memories?" she asked. "So they won't limit you as much?"
This surprised him in more than one way. Was such a thing possible? And why would an enemy impostor want to do it for him? Curiosity drove him as much as practicality. But at the moment they needed to be escaping, before the guards discovered the empty cell. Assuming that mattered, in this elaborate ruse. "First we need to get well clear of the castle."
"No we don't. The Evil Wizard's minions will be swarming throughout this area, overturning every clamshell.
We can't avoid them in the open sea. But I know a place to hide. This way." She jetted away.
He followed, perplexed. What was she up to?
There was an old fracture in the rock beneath the castle. They entered this, and found an ancient labyrinth of caves. She led him to a deep one, large enough for them to face each other, and settled to the floor. "No one comes here," she flashed. "It is reputed to be haunted."
"Is it?" he asked, bemused.
"Yes. The Evil Sorcerer put a curse on it, so no one would sneak in and try to undermine the foundation. But I'm not afraid of the curse, and surely you aren't."
"How did you know of this?"
"I overheard the guards talking. They think prisoners are nonentities, destined to be executed eventually, so they don't much care what they hear. I know all the castle secrets." She oriented on him. "But enough of that. We must hide here several hours, until the search dies out in frustration. Now let me take care of those nasty memories." She twined tentacles with him again.
Warp let her do it. He remained curious about her ability and motive. Also, her tentacles were exceedingly soft, shapely, and conducive. He had never before touched limbs like these. Of course he hadn't been in this form long.
"I don't quite understand how this can affect memories," he flashed.
"By overwriting them with better ones," she explained. She tightened her multi-contact grip on him, drew their beaks together, and kissed him. In this species that took the form of clicking beaks gently together, but the effect was just as potent. "Now when you're in a dark dungeon-like place, you will think of this instead of torture." She clicked beaks again.
Warp couldn't help it. He clicked beaks back. Then nature took over. They drew each other ever-closer together until their tentacles were practically knotted, constantly clicking. Then his special reproductive tentacle slid out and pushed into her ready socket, and his seed packet squeezed urgently into her. Her socket closed around it, as his spent tentacle withdrew and the rapture of the climax slowly faded.
They had just had glorious sex. Warp couldn't help this either: he liked her. She was an enemy agent, there to subvert him, but she was a fantastically attractive creature.
"We'll do more of this after we're married," she flashed brightly.
This had gone far enough. He had to unmask her, by seemingly natural means, so he could get on with the business of rescuing the real princess. He did a quick exploration of paths, and found the simplest one to accomplish his purpose.
"That was my greatest experience since before your capture," he flashed.
"Oh? Have you been trying lesser girls in the interim?"
"Naturally not. None could compare to you. Do you remember when I visited the royal castle to court you, and your father made me sleep in a distant cell so I had no opportunity to sneak into your suite? He even had guards patrolling, for my safety, he said."
"Well, he is naturally protective. He's an old fashioned shell."
"But he reckoned without your ingenuity. You know all the hidden ways there as well as here, and you sneaked in to see me, avoiding the guards. Don't tell me you have forgotten that tryst!"
"Of course not. But a lady doesn't bruit such things carelessly about. It would be bad for one's reputation."
"Next day I met you formally, and you gave no hint. You even seemed slightly wary of me."
"I was always good at make believe," she agreed.
"You are some girl, Naughty."
"Thank you." Then her tentacles stiffened. "What?"
"The Princess and I never trysted, though not for lack of trying. The King's minions were too alert. You have to be an impostor, and there's only one who could hope to succeed."
"Poisoned shellfish guts!" she swore. "You knew, and you let me seduce you?"
"You are a highly seductive creature."
"Well, you might as well kill me now, because otherwise I will tell my father, and he will kill the Princess."
"I don't think I could do that."
"Don't tell me that torture made you soft-tentacled!"
Warp was exploring paths, and discovered one that solved most problems. He could have saved himself some trouble if he had seen it before, but it had been beyond his range until now. His effort to conceal his identity and nature had been wasted. "That is impossible."
"They cut off all your tentacles, and boiled your shell! You're lucky you survived at all. I was appalled. I told my father that if he ever did anything like that again, I would go join the King's harem. That set him back, and when he captured the Princess he spared her that treatment. But the damage was done to you. I can't blame you for wanting to destroy me."
"Let me explain. It is impossible, because I am no more the Prince than you are the Princess. We are both impostors."
"You're an impostor? I am outraged! I never would have accepted your packet if I had known. Who the smelly eel-refuse are you?"
"I am an alien Glamor."
"A Glamor! What interest do either Glamors or aliens have in local politics?"
"We want to recruit the Ammonoids to join the Living Cultures Coalition, to fight the marauding machines. The King agreed to do this, if we rescued his daughter. She will become Queen, marry the Prince, and join the Coalition."
"But our world, our culture, has nothing to offer you. We do know of the machines; at least the King does, the Princess does, and my father and I do. We haven't told the commoners; it would only upset them. But we're a medieval society. We don't even have a spaceship."
"You do have something to offer," Warp said, seeing it take shape as the correct paths clarified. "You especially. Our ships need you."
She laughed, multiple tentacles jiggling against his. She was a tease even when not trying to be. "I'm an entertainer. I divert people from their sorry dull lives, so my father can squeeze their remaining sustenance from them.
That has nothing to do with space ships."
"That has everything to do with space ships," he flashed earnestly. "You are perfect."
"I may be the perfect mistress, but somehow I doubt that is your meaning. What would I ever do on a space ship?"
"Background: ships can spend long times in space, especially in time of war. We are now at war with the machines. They will completely destroy us of we don't stop them. So our ships never put in to port; they are perpetually on maneuvers, ready to engage the enemy. This means their crews are constantly in danger of death, because the machines are of a higher technology and without decency and will destroy any opposition without mercy. That is hard on living creatures who have to face them."
"Akin to being prisoners," she agreed. "Relevance?"
"They suffer from space cafard. That is boredom, depression, and hopelessness. Occasionally one will snap and go berserk, killing a number of his fellows before being neutralized. This is not good for the morale of the survivors. There is a fair amount of attrition before a ship ever engages the enemy."
"I appreciate that. You need to give them planetary leave to unwind."
"We do. But often the ships are in the territory of other cultures, too far from home. They need diversion on the ships themselves. There are games, holographs, and of course the crews are mixed genders so that social relations occur. But things get stale. We need professional entertainers who will go from ship to ship, providing superior distraction. I have been doing it some, spinning yarns, but more is required. My stories are mainly verbal—that's like colored light communication—but they would be far more effective if buttressed by someone who could form animated pictures, even in the absence of magic."