Daddy! she responded immediately.
Contact! Just like that! But he couldn’t pause to savor it. I know the threat. I be changing sides. Help me get thy mother offplanet.
She doesn’t know! They are watching. Oh, Daddy, I didn’t dare tell—
Aye. We needs must ship her to the spaceport, concealed. The flight to ConGlom within two hours. She must exchange with Tania in booth 401. Tell her that.
But they will not let her go! They are watching the apartment!
Yes. We must ship her out concealed. Order a monstrous vat o’ ice cream mix—
Got it, Daddy! But they call in every hour—
Thou willst have to emulate her for the screen. Can do! Tell Troubot to make the delivery; he’ll know what to do.
But thou wert Troubot! There be no—
Trust me, Daddy! He exists. He’s hiding, but go to this address and speak this code, and he will come. She rattled off the information, which Bane, with his computer brain, memorized instantly.
Once Agape be out, needs we must act quickly, he thought. Sure!
That was it; they had no time for conversation. He went to the address, which fortunately was not far out of his route to the suite.
It turned out to be a storage region, where supplies of food, medicine and machine accessories were kept on a temporary basis, for immediate access by local service machines. The robots operating here were low grade, possessing no sentience; as long as he did not interfere with them, they had no awareness of his presence. There were no automatic recorders; such devices were expensive, and this was only a warehouse annex.
Nevertheless, he waited till no worker machines were in the immediate vicinity before acting. Then he spoke the code, quietly, not expecting any prompt response. Troubot was the name she had taken during her hiding; what could answer that call now?
A portage machine trundled by, carrying a load of packages of white powder. Bane stepped out of its way.
“Troubot,” it murmured as it passed.
Well! “Make the delivery Nepe calls in,” he said.
Troubot stacked the bags and maneuvered to turn around.
“Of what nature?”
“Ten-gallon tub o’ ice cream.”
The machine trundled away toward the maintenance alcove, evidently to get an ice cream carrying body. Thus it would be ready to respond to the order, seemingly coincidentally.
Mach walked on out of the warehouse, unhurried. He merged with the traffic of the hall beyond: serfs, androids and lesser robots. There was always activity around warehouse areas, because the needs of Citizens and their serfs were constant. No sensors were tracking him at the moment; in the course of nine years he had come to know the capacities of this robot body well, and could now do things with it that Mach himself could not, because his living human mind was superior to the best that a machine mind could be. He could detect sensors, having modified this body some time back to do so. It was a great advantage! He had set things up, but he needed a pretext to dawdle while the ice cream was delivered. The Citizens would be least likely to suspect Agape of making her escape before Bane arrived to see her after two weeks’ absence. But it would be suspicious if he delayed; he normally had one thing in mind at such times.
Well, he would not delay; he would be delayed by an outside party. It was time to exploit another hidden feature of this body.
He tuned in on a paging station. He sent a signal that mimicked its control sequence, as if a call were coming through. A call seeking Bane himself.
“Bane,” the loudspeakers of the vicinity blared. “Incoming call. Please pick up at convenient unit.”
“Damn!” Bane said, as if displeased. He walked to the nearest public phone station. “Bane here,” he snapped. “Be this call important? I be on my way to—”
“It will take only a moment,” a dulcet female voice cut in. He was generating it electronically in his own body, but it sounded authentic, and any recording would sound authentic also. It was almost impossible to trace the origin of local calls unless special procedures were invoked. “I am a visiting journalist, and I just wanted to—”
“I know thee not, nor any journalists,” he said. “Look, I have been away for two weeks and have naught to—”
“Please, this will be very brief. I believe you are the only self-willed robot to have a—”
“I be not a rovot! I be a living man!”
“Beg pardon? I understood that—”
So it continued: his irate explanation that he was actually a man in a robot’s body, for an interviewer who had difficulty getting that straight. He played both parts with a certain vigor, pleased with his imagination. By the time he finally won free of the persistent caller, almost half an hour had passed, and he appeared fit to explode.
He hurried on to his rendezvous with Agape. By this time, he trusted, Nepe should have explained, Troubot would have arrived with the ice cream, and Agape would have rejected such a ridiculous order—and melted and gone out with Troubot in lieu of it. There was still about an hour to the departure of the ship for ConGlom: sufficient time to trundle there without haste. All he had to do was make sure that the Citizens did not catch on before the ship took off.
He reached the suite, and touched the panel. His hand was coded for it; it opened and let him in.
He paused, checking the security. There were supposed to be no electronic spies operating within, but he never took that on faith. His own electronic mechanisms traced the circuits, verifying that all were accounted for. It was all right; nothing had changed. That meant that he could talk freely, here.
He entered the main chamber. Agape was there, standing behind a chair. He suffered a siege of alarm—then relaxed.
“Very good, Nepe,” he said. “Thou dost resemble her exactly.”
“Did I fool you for an instant, Daddy?” she demanded eagerly.
“For an instant,” he agreed. “Longer, had I not known thou wouldst not fail me.” He strode across the room and enfolded her, embracing her as if she were her mother.
“Easy, Daddy,” she said. “I’m standing on the ice cream.”
So she was. Her natural mass was less than half that of Agape, so she had perched on the top of the oblong container, and formed only that portion of the body from the narrowing of the waist up. She had done a superlative job; the breasts were full and perfect in their contours and heft, the arms were completely functional, and the neck and head so apt that it was hard to believe this was an emulation. Of course the original Agape was an emulation, which perhaps made it easier. Still, it was impressive.
“Thou hast done well, Nepe,” he said. “Maintain this emulation while I call out; I want them to know Agape is here with me.”
She remained as she was, while he crossed to the screen. She had positioned herself so that only her upper portion could be seen by the pickup. He activated it, knowing that the two-way connection would show his wife in the background. The Citizens would be monitoring this; their agents would be reassured, and no report would be made.
But the moment the line was opened, Bane extended his electronic expertise. He tuned in on a nearby line reserved for Citizens, and fixed a limited diversion that would allow him to monitor it without being detected unless this specific device was suspected. This technology was not generally known; in fact, he was practicing the Proton equivalent of magic. Mach had become the Robot Adept, now far more talented in that respect than Bane. But Bane, unadvertised, had become the equivalent in Proton, and now he was drawing on these unique skills.
“Hold all calls, this hour,” he said. “Except from Citizens, of course.” Then he disconnected, not waiting for confirmation. This was his normal procedure; the nature of his first-hour activity was generally known.
But now he had his secret loop established. Outsiders could neither call in nor spy on what happened here, but he would know what was going on outside. Already there was a stream of routine communications, as one Citizen contacted the of
fice of another about some trifle. Mach monitored these on what in his living brain would have been a subconscious level; if any key reference occurred, he would be alerted.
“Now thou mayest talk,” he told Nepe.
“Are you really changing sides, Daddy?” she asked, delighted. “How come?”
“The threats against thy mother and Fleta in Phaze represent a violation o’ our covenant. Mach and I agreed to serve the Adverse Adepts and Contrary Citizens in return for their protection and sanction o’ our liaisons with our chosen females. Since Mach made the first deal much has changed; he won the contest that required me to join him. But Stile’s opposition to Mach’s union with Fleta ended, so the original cause was gone; only our agreements held us. We have served loyally; as thou knowest, we finally did locate Flach and capture him, and through him, thee. But all along, we would have preferred to be on the other side. Evidently the Citizens and Adepts, knowing this, and balked for four years, decided to make one swift sweep and gain a permanent advantage by unethical means. They tried to conceal this from us, believing that they could secure the power they required in both frames before we realized. But Flach told me, and now I be acting, and Mach be acting, to remove ourselves and our loved ones from the enemy camp.”
“I’m glad, Daddy! I didn’t like hiding from you, but—”
“Each must serve the side he serves. Now we be united in purpose as well as in person, and needs must we plan for action. As soon as Agape be offplanet, we must get thee to Blue.”
“But what about you, Daddy? Once they find out, they will make you prisoner.”
“I have means o’ escape. Thou dost be the one we must free next. We can use not the ice cream ploy again. Mayhap we can send thee to a game while we—” He hesitated.
“Daddy, I know what you do with Mommy. I kept track of you, those years, and Flach told me about Mach and Fleta.”
“How couldst thou keep track o’ that?” he asked, bemused. “E’en as Troubot, thou didst ne’er see the act.”
“Same way you keep track of the Citizens. In my metal aspect I learned some things about wiring.”
“Which doubtless be why it was so hard to find thee.”
“You never would have found me, if you hadn’t traced me through Flach,” she said smugly.
“But it be harder for thee to hide this time. An I send thee out, they will be watching.”
“I think you could carry me out, if I become part of you, like maybe a leg. Then you could use your blankout circuit to—”
“My what?”
“You know, the way you short around the circuits of the spybeams on you, and make yourself invisible to them. Then you could take me to Grandpa Blue—”
Bane was amazed again. How many of his secrets did she know? But probably that would work. By the time the Citizens realized that something was up, and checked the suite, they would find nothing there except ten gallons of ice cream mix.
“Very well. As soon as we be certain your mother be safe, and have not to emulate her any more—”
He broke off, for his intercept had just sent up a signal… made the reservation while interviewing him, and now is heading for the spaceport. Better intercept her and find out whether this has anything to do with Bane.
I’ll send a pair of androids with her person-code; there will be time.
“They be going to intercept and question Tania!” he exclaimed. “Must needs I stop that! Agape will be able to exchange with her not if there be androids there!”
“Go now, Daddy!” Nepe exclaimed. “I’ll cover!”
“What, for me?”
“I can do you too, with a few minutes to set up.” Already she was starting to change, her features melting.
“Thou dost be a wonder!” he said, stepping toward the portal. “I will return for thee when I can.”
“I’ll be waiting, Daddy,” she said bravely.
He used his intercept circuit to tune in on the spy devices beyond the portal. In a moment he had nulled them without alerting their malfunction alarms. Then he opened the portal and stepped out.
A human serf was passing in the hall. Bane ignored him; it was only the spy device that counted. Later they might round up and question all serfs in the vicinity, and learn that Bane had been seen leaving, but by then it would be far too late.
He had little time. Agape would be meeting Tania about half an hour before the flight, and the androids could be arriving shortly before that, being dispatched from some local depot. The spaceport was a fair distance from this region. A walking pace would require at least an hour, and all he had was perhaps twenty minutes. A Citizen could readily get there in time, by taking private transport, but he was a serf. He had to have transportation—but the fast belts and rail tubes were all monitored, and he wasn’t sure he could remain invisible to them.
But he had an answer. He stepped into a service alcove. There was a hall-brushing machine, awaiting its call. It had a huge roller brush in front, and a large bin for refuse behind.
Bane addressed it electronically, tapping into its communication circuit. He had talked verbally to Troubot, but then he had been walking openly; now he was hidden from electronic observation, and needed to remain so.
Activate, he sent. Stand ready to accept load of refuse. Take that load via expedite route to spaceport depot and release it.
The sweeper did not question these orders. It hummed into its version of life and opened the lid to its refuse bin. Bane climbed up to stand in the bin. It was too small for him to hide in, being only half his height and too narrow to allow him to squat. He touched his body efficiently, and in a moment removed his right leg. He propped this in the front right corner, and then disconnected his left leg. He put his hands on the rim of the bin, hefted himself up, and let the left leg wobble into the front left corner. Then he lowered his torso down in a maneuver a living body would have found difficult, until it wedged against his standing legs at the bottom of the bin. He squeezed his arms down and into the scant remaining space.
The sweeper slid its lid back over. It clicked into place, making an airtight seal. Bane was glad that this body did not need to breathe; it did so only for appearances, and for verbal communication.
The sweeper trundled forward, heading for the expedite route. This was a network of tunnels used for the swift transport of supplies and equipment. The sweeper rolled onto a transport cart, was tied down, and gave its destination.
Abruptly the motion was savage. No human limitations of atmosphere or acceleration were considered; machines were tougher. It was like being launched by a swinging club; one moment the cart was stationary, the next it was rolling down the tube at a horrendous velocity. There was a violent jerk as it changed tracks, proceeding at an angle down a new tube, orienting on the spaceport. Bane’s legs raided against his torso. But high velocity was what he wanted!
In only ten minutes the sweeper rolled into the spaceport depot. Its lid slid open. Bane got his arms up, put his hands on the rim on either side, and somewhat clumsily hoisted his body up. This was harder to do than letting it down, and getting the first leg attached was harder yet. But he managed to use his torso to nudge his leg into the appropriate place, and to set himself on it so that it took some weight; that freed a hand so that he could complete the connection. The second leg was easy.
He climbed out. Return to assigned depot, he sent to it. Use alternate route, unrush.
The machine closed its hatch and trundled off. It would probably not be missed, and its excursion might never be noted. Meanwhile, it had gotten him to the vicinity of the spaceport in ample time.
Now he extended his electronic awareness to locate Troubot. Yes, he was on his way in, carrying Agape in dissolved form. He repeated the identification code Nepe had given him. Troubot: provide projected route, he sent.
The machine responded with the coding for his route.
If intercepted, notify me.
Troubot, a self-willed machine, understood. He woul
d do his best to protect his cargo.
Now Bane oriented on Tania, whose identity he knew well. She was also on her way in, using her brother’s Citizen transport. She would arrive before Agape, which was as it should be.
Finally he checked for the two androids. They were close; they would arrive before Tania, and be awaiting her at the spaceport. They were orienting on her boarding pass, which was keyed to her identity.
Now it got tricky. If he intercepted the androids before they interviewed Tania, the Citizen expecting the report would realize that something was wrong. Any hint of a problem would cause them to put a hold on the takeoff, and all would be lost.
On the other hand, if they interviewed Tania, they might not finish before Agape had to make the exchange. That, too, would be disaster.
But in a moment he had a way to thread through: Agape and Tania did not actually have to meet; they merely needed to exchange places and identities in a manner that aroused no suspicion. He could get the pass from Tania and give it to Agape; Agape could board while the androids interviewed’ Tania. True, it might seem that Tania was in two places at once—but no one should be checking for that. It seemed a reasonable risk.
He hurried to intercept Tania as she emerged from the transport. “Give me the pass,” he said. “Androids be waiting for talk with thee.”
She caught on immediately. “Someone is checking on me, because of my sudden departure. That will be routine. But if I don’t have the pass, how will they find me? You don’t want them tracking her.”
Excellent point. “I will come with thee, and mock the pass. They will check it not further after they encounter thee.”
“You have unheralded talents,” she murmured, glancing at him sidelong. “Fortunately, I like your company.”
They changed course to intercept Agape’s route, and waited a moment. Probably the androids would not search for Tania beyond the spaceport; they would have been told to find her there, and they were stupid. So they would not see Agape in Tania’s likeness.
Troubot came. Give this pass to Agape, Bane sent to it. Tell her to assume Tania’s likeness, and board as soon as the ship be ready. Once aboard, she may hide as pleases her, until we join her at Planet Moeba. He gave the pass to the machine.