"But if we free thee," Blue said, reverting to the dialect of Phaze that he had known when young, "then the Adverse Adepts will have neither thee nor my son, and neither Agape nor – "
"Nor Fleta," Bane concluded.
"Fleta?"
"She be the filly of Neysa, and I believe Mach loves her. As I love Agape."
Blue pursed his lips. "He loves a unicorn?"
"I think he knew her nature not, at first. She be a most fetching person, vivacious and feeling, in human form."
"Neysa seldom took the human form, and spoke little then," Blue said. "I knew her through mine other self. Yet was she the most worthy of persons."
"She be still," Bane said. "Gray of forelock, now past breeding, but well respected in the Herd her brother governs. But Fleta be expressive in all the ways her dam be not. An Mach took her for human – "
"Here in Proton we are practicing tolerance," Blue said. "I feel not the dismay for such liaison that I might have when young." He went to bend over the fallen Purple. Bane noticed that he did not bend his knees, and remembered that his father said he had been injured in the knees, in his original body. The body that had sired himself, Bane, before returning to Proton. Blue was, physically, his father.
"But when we return to our own frames," Bane said, "I love not the unicorn, friend as she may be, and Mach loves not Agape."
Blue nodded. "There be matters yet to consider. But now we needs must spring thee free of this hole." He had stripped Purple's remaining clothing, leaving him naked, and under his busy hands Purple had assumed the appearance of a blob. Pseudoflesh covered his face, leaving only nose-holes for breathing, and his genital region now looked female.
"The Citizen's minions will think he is Agape!" Bane exclaimed, catching on.
"Aye. And I shall play the part of a Citizen," Blue said, donning Purple's clothing. He had to wad and tie some of it underneath, to give the appearance of greater girth, and the loose-fitting shoes did not elevate him to the other man's height, but the resemblance was becoming striking enough.
"The Game!" Bane exclaimed. "Thou didst learn such mimicry for the Game!"
"Aye. Mine other self was the expert, but I thought it meet for me to study it somewhat also, and teach it to my son."
"Would I could learn that Game," Bane said wistfully.
"Thou dost like Proton?"
"It is love of Agape that lures me," Bane admitted. "But aye, I find this frame more challenging than mine own. It be foolishness, I know."
"A foolishness I share," Blue said, smiling. "Now, we both have parts to play. Thou dost remain prisoner, chastened by seeing thy love melt. I am taking thee to safer confinement."
"That part can I play," Bane said. "But surely Purple's minions will not be fooled by thee!"
"There be some distractions," Blue said with a small smile. "It was necessary for me to wait until I knew they were in place, before taking action here. Now shall we see how the magic of science performs." He took some of his surplus pseudoflesh and molded it in the corner, against the locked panel. He set a tiny stick in it and pinched off the protruding end of the stick. "Shield me with thy body," he said, retreating to the far side of the cell. "It be tougher than mine own."
Perplexed, Bane stood as directed, standing between Blue and the pseudoflesh, facing away from it, bracing himself.
There was an explosion. It shoved him into Blue, and both against the wall. Bits of wall and panel were hurled like stones into the other walls. "What happened?" Bane cried.
They recovered their feet. "A trick of the trade," Blue remarked, dusting himself off. "Follow me." He hurried out of the smoking cell, through the shattered panel.
Serfs rushed up. "The alien bitch carried plastic explosive!" Blue roared in Purple's voice. "Fetch my private plane! I'm taking the prisoner to safer confinement!"
When they hesitated, Blue paused to glare about. It was amazing how aptly he had picked up Purple's mannerisms. "And find out who was supposed to guard against weapons being brought in here! Didn't any numbskull think to check for plastic? Look at that cell! Every party responsible will be fired with prejudice!"
Hastily the serfs went about their business; the talk of firing made them extremely nervous.
Foreman hurried up. "Sir, the craft is ready," he said. Then, startled, he opened his mouth again.
Blue's hand snaked out and caught the serfs wrist. Foreman stiffened in pain. "Speak no word," Blue said. "Guide us there."
It was obvious that the submission hold rendered the serf powerless to resist. He backed into an elevator, and they followed. The elevator took them up to a landing area, where the airplane waited. Blue and Bane got in.
"The blob in the cell is your employer," Blue in formed Foreman as he took the pilot's seat. "He may need your attention, before the ignorant serfs dump him in the trash."
Foreman, about to cry the alarm, whirled and ran for the elevator. His first loyalty was to the physical welfare of Citizen Purple.
Blue started the airplane and piloted it into the air. It quickly rose high, flying above the mountains. He touched its front panel. "Blue here, in Purple's private plane," he said. "Escort me home."
Three other airplanes zoomed in. But immediately half a dozen others appeared, closing in on the first three. Citizen Purple's defenses were alert.
"If these be like dragons, we be in trouble," Bane remarked.
"Like dragons indeed," Blue agreed. "But human cleverness can do much." He guided the airplane precipitously down. "There be much joy in machines, an thou dost have the temperament."
And he had a wife and a son who were machines. Bane would have liked this man well enough, even if he had not been so exactly like Stile.
The three friendly craft ran interference, threatening to crash into any of the pursuers who came too close. "Ours be machine-controlled?" Bane asked.
"Aye. Stew-controlled, by remote. Purple's be manned by serfs, who have some care for their hides."
They bumped to a landing by a marker in the sand at the foot of the mountain range. They piled out as the enemy craft dived for them, running to the marker and hauling up on a ring set in it. Blue was panting, for he had no suit to enable him to breathe the polluted atmosphere; Bane, seeing the problem, took over the job and hauled up a portal. A hole opened, and they scrambled in and shut the portal above.
"Service access," Blue gasped. "Say the code!"
"Code?"
"Oh, that's right; you don't know it. Mach does. Damn!
We can't summon the self-willed machines!" He was recovering as the good air here got into him.
"Self-willed machines? I have heard reference to these, and learned that Sheen be one, but I know these not."
"Intelligent, motivated, self-directed robots of all types, but not granted serf status because that's limited to those who look like serfs; I haven't been able to overcome that bias yet. They don't complain because they want the Experimental Project to prove itself first."
"The Experimental Project – that allows androids and machines and alien creatures to be as equals?"
"The same. Agape must have told thee."
"Aye." They were moving on down along a passage. Already there was noise back at the portal.
"Mach be one of them, of course; he gave Agape the code so they would know she came to them at his behest. I never sought to know that code; it was important that Mach grow unfettered by my domination. But now, if we don't summon them, we shall shortly be captive again."
Indeed, there was a swirl of air as the portal was opened above and behind them, and a clamor. Men were piling in.
Bane struggled with the logical brain he now had, as they rushed along. How could he get that code? It should be in Mach's memory – but he had none of that. His own memories had come with him across the curtain between frames. Was there anything he could tap into?