Now he was destroying himself, completing the deed. His secret mission was done.
He dropped the stone, depriving himself of any remaining magic. He set down Flame's ikon, not wanting to lose it in the lava or allow it to protect him, as ikons could. He made a running leap into the cone of the volcano.
He felt a sort of freedom as he fell. Part of it was the lightness of free-fall. More of it was the expiation of the ugly mission he had been assigned. He was now free of it.
He also experienced intense grief. Opaline had been his friend, and he had abruptly and brutally betrayed her.
Had he known, he would have stayed well away from her, or have killed himself before hurting her. "Apology, Opaline," he whispered, aware of the uselessness of any such statement.
The surface of the green lava rushed up at him. He held his breath, as if dropping into deep water. He knew he would be cooked and dead in seconds. It was perhaps a fitting end for a traitor.
Something swooped in, catching him and bearing him away. Startled, disoriented, he looked. It was Flame.
She carried him back to their cabin in the Black Chroma zone. She set him down. "Apology."
"Negation!" he exclaimed. "I didn't fall, I jumped. I need to die."
"Not any more."
"Flame, I'm the machines spy! I killed Opaline! I can't live with that crime."
"You were the machines spy," she said. "You are no more. Your mission was triggered, accomplished, and ended as you killed yourself. The program has been expended and is no more. Now you are free. You are a normal mortal man."
"I killed Opaline!" he repeated. "I can't live with that. She was my friend. She trusted me. I must die."
"You did not kill her."
He shook his head. "Yes I did. I throttled her and fed her to the swamp. She was innocent. She died because of me."
"You did not kill her," Flame repeated.
"How can you say that? You weren't there."
"I was there."
He gazed at her. "Question?"
"I emulated Opaline. You killed me."
"But you are a Glamor! You couldn't die from anything I did."
"Correct. I emulated dying."
He stared, slowly realizing that she was serious. "Why?"
"To trigger your machines mission. To let you do it, and kill yourself, expiating the program."
He was putting it together. "The tryst, the sex, the dialogue—all with you?"
"All with me."
"Why?" he demanded again.
"So I wouldn't lose you. You would have killed yourself if discovered prematurely. We could not alleviate that. You had to actually do it." He shook his head, accepting it. Flame never lied to him, or to anyone.
"You played a role, to trigger the mechanism. So you know about it. When did you learn, when I didn't know myself?"
"On Planet Lobster. I read your mind when you were under special stress, and saw it."
"But you told me it was nothing! My dream of killing you. Just my fear of compromising our mission there."
"I lied."
He was appalled. "Why?" he asked a third time.
"I love you."
Fury overtook him. "You let me do this horrible thing—or think I did it—for love? Some love!"
He shook his head, trying to clear it of the humiliating filth of this knowledge. "I am going back to the volcano. This time don't stop me."
She remained silent, expressionless.
He stalked out.
It took him some time to reach the volcano without magic, but he was determined to finish what Flame's lie had balked. Even if he hadn't killed Opaline, it had seemed exactly like it, and he was absolutely revolted.
The following morning, tired, he stood again at the brink of the Green Chroma volcano.
A figure appeared beside him. "Flame, I told you—" He stopped. It wasn't Flame.
"I am just back from a mission to the heart of the machines empire," Shee said. "I learned what happened yesterday, and had to come."
"I killed my friend, or thought I did."
"Because you were programmed and planted by the machines," she said. "I know how that can be, because I am a machine. I want to tell you that the fact that the machines sent you does not mean you have to serve their interests. You can choose to serve the interests of life, as I did."
"I thought I did," he said. "Had I known or suspected that I was the machines' spy, I would have killed myself before murdering my innocent friend."
"The war with the machines is no simple thing. Not when both sides are able to see the future. It is a complex tapestry of moves and counter moves in many quadrants simultaneously. It has been going on for millennia, though the humans didn't know it until about two decades ago when they encountered Mino, the advance mining scout. It is a war the machines seemed destined to win, until the advent of the Glamors, and even so the advantage remains with the machines. Even with the Living Cultures Coalition, the issue is in doubt. The machines have studied the Earth culture by sending participants like the fifths, and later they sent robots to alter the mix."
"The mix?"
"Ploy and counter ploy. They sent me to influence Havoc to prevail on his daughter to enlist with them, which would enable them to destroy the remaining living cultures significantly more readily. Havoc countered by making me a Glamor and converting me to the side of Life, though I am not alive. They sent Ikon similarly to influence Weft. The Glamors counter by accepting the fifths and robots and turning them to assets for Life. In each case what counts is the effect on the future outcome. It is a game no one fully grasps, but Voila and Idyll are so far more than matching the machines in its application. They have raised the odds for Life from one in four to almost even."
"I am just another machines ploy? Sent to do their mischief? I did it, and I hate it."
"You had no choice. You are a fifth, like Opaline, only not presented as such. You are the special one. You are a potent nexus, as I am, and I think neither of us has yet concluded our roles in that respect."
"I'm synthetic?" he asked, surprised. "I never knew that either."
"You were designed to be attracted to Glamors and to persons of power," Shee said. "And to be attractive to them. You were given qualities of appearance and character that they could respect. When Gale took you no fault she wasn't just being kind; she liked you and respected you. This was true for Flame, Red, Voila, and Weft; they all enjoyed your company. But most of all you were slated for Flame, being seriously turned on by her lean appearance.
The machines far-future seeing suggested that they could place you with her, and that this was a vital nexus."
"I betrayed her!"
"Not really. The near future seeing, and her other Glamor abilities were more than the machines could handle, so their plot was foiled. Flame did what she had to do."
"She could have told me!"
"And you would have died when she told."
"Better than killing my friend."
"Whom Flame prevented you from killing."
He shook his head. "Flame did what she had to do. Now I am doing what I have to do. I can't live with the shame."
She seemed to consider. "Shame is not a thing I properly understand yet. Can you explain it to me?"
"It is the awareness of dishonor, foolishness, bad behavior. She made a fool of me, and I would be embarrassed to continue with it being known."
"She did not want to do it. I think you should forgive her."
"I can't. I was seduced by my innocence. I have lost it."
"If I could ameliorate your feeling or resolve the issue by seducing you, I would do it."
"Unlikely. I am not a candidate for physical seduction."
"No?" She gazed at him. Her face and body became ethereally lovely. Her clothing shimmered and faded out, leaving her naked. Her very nearness aroused him intensely. He knew she was a machine, but he was being drawn into her as the essence of femininity. He was staring into the irresistible face of a Glamor who was showing her power.