The paths coalesced. "Agreement."
They left the strings and returned to the park. They found a bower off the main paths where workers were unlikely to stray, and she stripped while he assumed man-form. But as he approached her, she held up one hand in a stop signal.
"You know this is no fault," Gale reminded him. "A temporary liaison without any continuation beyond this mission."
"Understanding. Regret."
"You know I seduced you as an act of dominance. To establish a hierarchy among enemies."
"Acceptance."
"And that I am using sex now as a way to maintain dominance. It is a calculated thing."
"Calculation is a machine quality. I selected you for this mission because I was already intrigued by your nature."
"You selected me?" she asked, surprised.
"Affirmation. I required the assistance of a Glamor for this mission. I chose the time of contact when you would be available."
"Why?"
"I studied all the human Glamors, to ascertain which would be best. That one was Voila, but I knew she would not cooperate. The next was Havoc. He was quite suitable. The third was you. I approached you."
"Wonder!" she exclaimed. "You were already smitten with me!"
"In my fashion. I desired to learn genuine emotion, and preferred to learn it from you."
"You conniving male!" she said, flattered. "Come on in!" She threw her arms around him, kissed him, and facilitated his entry. This time when he climaxed, she joined him. It was no longer dominance, but pleasure.
"Confusion," he said as they subsided. "My study indicated you would be made angry by my statement, not pleased."
"I am a woman."
"Relevance?"
"My moods are highly flexible. Had you told me at any other time, I surely would have been angry But when I told you I was seducing you for dominance, you told me you were agreeing for love. That's charming."
"Confusion."
"Typically male." She kissed him again. "Women drive men crazy. Don't try to understand it, just accept it."
"If it means the end of hostility between us, I accept it."
"It does." Then she remembered something. "When I asked you what you would want, if you could have anything, you paused before answering that you wanted emotion. I thought you had never considered that question before. Now I know you sought sex throughout. Why did you pause?"
"I was seeking the answer that would facilitate the interaction I desired. My far-future seeing suggested it was possible, if I acted correctly, but I was not sure whether candor at that point would achieve the objective."
"You wanted to get into my pants."
"Affirmation."
"You had a dream. That is, a desire."
"Affirmation."
"Why?"
"You are the most desirable of all the female Glamors."
"Oh, come now. Consider Weft."
"She is beautiful but imperious. You are considerably more woman than she is."
"Are you yanking my chain?"
"Confusion."
"So your research missed an ancient human colloquialism. A savage animal may be led on a chain. You know I'm jealous of my daughter in this respect."
"Agreement. You are a fascinating, desirable, savage animal who compelled my—dream."
She laughed. "Close enough. You were more lucky than calculating."
"That was the indication."
"Your dream. So machines do dream."
"In attempting to understand you, I developed that aspiration. It may fit the definition."
"I am on the verge of an idea about the Dreamers. Let's have at it again, while I ponder."
"Uncertainty. Are you suggesting—"
She cut him off with a kiss as she pushed him onto his back. "You bet." She caught his flaccid penis and sucked on it until it stiffened. Then she sat on it, putting her feet on his shoulders. "I know you are literal minded, being a machine not specifically programmed for this type of interaction, as you call it. So when you say I am the most desirable of Glamors, you mean it. This is a private thrill for me, so I am thanking you in a way I am sure you will appreciate." She contracted her vagina without changing her position, massaging his member until he went into orgasm.
When it ebbed, she held the position. "Here is my idea about the Dreamers. They were supposed to develop a telepathic communal dream wherein they could share minds on a planetary scale, so they could mass their mental resources and generate ideas beyond any they could conceive individually. But the dream became so pleasant it was addictive, and they were distracted by the sheer pleasure of it. Locked into that paradise, they never wanted to wake up, since their bodies were cared for by the workers. They were in no danger of starving or being buried in their own wastes. But in time their bodies wasted away, until they died. They had fallen into yet another trap of luxury, and their grand scheme perished, victim of the device they instituted to implement it. Does that make sense?"
"I am not conversant with that kind of dream, so can't—"
"Does that make sense?" she repeated, her vagina massaging his member within it, forcing renewed interest. "Perhaps. If—"
"Sense?" She squeezed hard and rhythmically.
He gave up. "Sense."
"Good." She continued working his member, her outer position not changing at all, until he was taken by another orgasm.
"Dominance," he said as it passed.
"Affirmation. I think this explanation is as good as any, and it eliminates the specter of communicable disease. We can go home now and make our reports."
"Concern. Your explanation may be viable, but it is also possible that another contingent of Makers saw that this approach was useless, and departed for some other planet. They might have arranged to have their departure unrecorded. Our mission is thus incomplete."
She considered. "Idea: I can investigate a Dreamer telepathically, spying exactly what is in his mind. Then we will know. Is this a fair compromise?"
"Fair," he agreed.
"Good. Let's evoke one more effort, and then look for a Dreamer."
"I am not equipped for such frequent repeat performances of this nature."
"Oh? Let's find out." She maintained the position and worked him over again. She made her point: he did have one more performance in him. She remained dominant.
They disengaged, dressed, and went out to find a Dreamer. That was not hard; they went to one of the few Makers being served in a rack. They did not need to get all the way next to him; they stopped in an adjacent cell, ignored by the workers.
Gale reached out with her mind, tuning in on the mind of the Dreamer. It was alien, but her limited experience with the worker enabled her to orient.
This was a far more powerful mind, with a complicated array of thoughts. This was much closer to what she expected in a Maker. But it was quiescent. Not exactly asleep, but not awake. Not dreaming. Just—waiting. That was all.
"Weird," she murmured. "This is a full, advanced mind, equivalent to ours. But it seems to be on standby He is waiting for something, but I can't tell what."
"Could it be the appearance of machines here?"
"I don't think so. This mind does not seem to be concerned with machines. It is just alert for something I can't fathom. Apparently he has been alert all his life, and will continue. Until he finds that something."
"Conjecture: he is awaiting contact from a departed Maker whose location is at present hidden. So they can coordinate."
"Coordinate in what?" she asked.
"In foiling the machines."
"Let's get out of here."
They did, remaining seemingly unnoticed by the workers. They returned to the park.