The man might be a robot, but he had a healing talent! Maybe it was just some kind of electrical anesthetic, but it made life easier for the moment.
Then Jack stepped into what looked like a shower. Suddenly he felt warm and clean. He had had the equivalent of a full shower in half a second, painlessly. He was still marveling as they presented him with clothing similar to their own. He could tell by the feel that it was of alien material, but it felt good and fit him well. In fact, it seemed to adjust itself to his body of its own volition. So why didn't it fit these alien men and women better' ' I
"Uh, before we go back," Jack said. "Is there a-a bathroom?
I mean, a place where I can-?"
"Step into the purifier again," Abe said.
Jack stepped in, but didn't see any toilet. Then, suddenly, he had no need for it. Somehow the wastes in his body had been removed. He decided not to protest.
"Urn, Abe-you serve Tappy, right?"
"The present form of the Imago, yes."
"And me you help only because she wants it?"
"Yes. It is not ordinary, but her will is our law, literally."
"And you went to the trouble of learningmy language and customs, because of her? You really don't care about me otherwise?"
"This is the situation."
"And if she told you to kill me, you would do it?"
"If she were serious."
"And Tappy herself-you would never harm her, or go against her wish?"
"This is approximately true. Were she to desire something harmful to herself, we would decline-"
"Got it. You really are her agents, no matter what."
"This is the situation."
"Thanks."
"It is her will that you be given full infonyiation."
Jack was satisfied with that. Since he also wanted what was best for Ta ppy, there should be no trouble. If these humanoids real y I were to be trusted.
They returned to the main chamber. There was now a table there, with fairly familiar food on it. Tappy was standing behind a chair, dressed in a clean and well-fitting blouse and skirt, her hair brushed out and tied back by a red ribbon. Only the scar on her face marred her dawning prettiness. That and the slightly unfocused eyes.
"You look wonderful, Tappy," he said.
She broke into a smile, extending her hand to him. He saw that though she was the mistress here, she remained eager for his company and reassurance.
He took her hand and squeezed it. Then they sat down to their meal, catered by Abbie and Brie.
It consisted of a small lettuce and tomato salad, mashed potatoes, and a steak, with a glass of milk on the side. But the lettuce was red, which was possible, and the tomato green, also possible depending on the variety. The milk was brown, which could mean chocolate. The steak was blue.
It was that last that made him conclude that this was not ordinary food after all. It was artificial food, surely with the requisite nutritive elements. But the Agents of the Imago-the Alvidently had no direct experience with the world Jack had known. That showed in their clothing and in the food. Either they were color-blind, or they had misinterpreted the colors. Tappy could not correct them, because she couldn't see the food.
But it took only a moment for Jack to conclude that he should keep his mouth shut, except for eating. This was his first direct evidence that the AI were fallible. There were things they didn't know. That was reassuring. It also argued for their legitimacy, in a perverse way. They were here to help Tappy, who didn't care about the fit of their clothing or the color of the food, so they didn't pay proper attention to that. They hadn't expec ed Jack, who could see and who knew, so were caught short. Malva would have put him under a mind-probe or something and gotten the details right even if it burned out his brain. The AI had left his mind alone. He had better encourage them to continue doing that.
Tappy was already eating. He dived into his meal, and the taste was close enough. Probably everything was made from hydroponic soybeans and with taste and color, but for all he could tell, the steak was from a dragon. It would do.
For dessert Abbie brought green pumpkin pie, and Brie brought cheese. Jack looked at her, and at the cheese, and stifled a laugh. It wasn't that the cheese was blue, literally; it was the coincidence of the name.
Tappy became aware of his reaction. Her face turned toward him.
"It's nothing," he said. "Just that I named her Brie, and Brie is a variety of cheese."
She smiled. Brie, the seeming woman, did not. She did not seem to be offended; she just did not have emotions, and would not have understood the humor anyway.
These were indeed robots. They And there was another key.
might be conscious, and know a lot, but they were not feeling. It seemed that it was not feasible for even this advanced civil'zation to duplicate a living creature to that extent.
They completed the meal, and the AI brought small hand-held units that blinked by their mouths, making them suddenly clean.
No toothbrushes needed here!
Now that he was fed, Jack realized how tired he was. It had been an extremely trying sequence of several days, physically and emotionally. The frenzied trek up the mountain in the night, the crossing through the portal, encounters with the honkers, big dome-ship of the Gaol, the capture and interrogation by Malva, the flight in the airplane, the struggle to get through the cloud, the nullification of volition-he realized that he had had no problem with that since Tappy had had him eat the paper with the symbol on it; he felt free-willed now. But tired.
"Maybe it's time to rest," he said. "If it's okay with you folk."
He suspected that they had a lot for Tappy to do, but he was sure she was as tired as he was.
Tappy nodded agreement, and that forestalled whatever the AI might have had in mind. "There are bedrooms," Abe said.
They got up, and Tappy managed to catch his hand. Her fingers clung to his, not letting go. She wanted him with her for what passed for night in this building.
Should he argue the case? On the one hand, he did not want to give the AI the notion that he regarded the Imago as a sex object, so it was better to sleep apart. On the other, he still didn't really trust this situation, and feared that once he separated from Tappy for any length of time, he might not be allowed to get together with her again. The AI could kick him out, and tell her that he had decided to go home. Then there would be no living person to watch out for her interests. Maybe the AI really wanted what was best for the Imago-but what of Tappy? There was a living, feeling girl there who was in some ways just like any other, but in other ways a truly tragic figure. Jack was no psychiatrist, but he honestly felt that in this situation, he was the only one who could truly relate to that girl.
So he went with her to the bedroom they had designated for her. The AI expressed no objection. Abe and Abbie came in to undress them.
"Uh-" Jack began. Then it occurred to him that he valued the things the AI did not know about him, and shouldn't give them away. They didn't know that human beings who chose to share a bedroom did not necessarily have strangers undress them. Let them remain ignorant.
So he let them do it. He was facing away from Tappy, and left it that way. In due course he and Tappy were in pajamas and nightie and in the bed, which was large enough for two. The AI withdrew through the doorway, which seemed to close behind them. The -ight faded, leaving them in darkness.
Tappy found his hand again and drew it to her. She wanted him closer.
Jack knew he had gone wrong once, but he wasn't going to do it again. Not this way. Tempting though the prospect might be, on one not-quite-secret level. If she was the Imago, she was probably beyond his aspirations. If she was a hurt blind girl, she was underage. Either way, forbidden.