'What you are interested in is not very important,' she said. 'Merle does not want any romance; she merely wants an act of sex to add to her collection. The practical thing is for you to give it to her.'
'And lose my bet,' Stile said.
Sheen looked startled. 'Oh, my - I'm starting to think like a person! I forgot all about that! Of course you can't oblige her.' She seemed relieved.
'If I oblige anyone in that way, it will be you.'
'Any time.'
'After we're decently married.'
'It's not a decent marriage.'
The capsule arrived, sparing him further comment. They got out at a small private terminal. From here there was access to three small domes, one of which was Merle's.
Sheen went to the delivery chute and punched the coding for Mellon's package. A small vial fell into her hand. Her brow furrowed as she brought the item back. 'This is no cosmetic, sir. It's-' She broke off. 'Let's move quickly, sir.'
Suddenly gas hissed into the room from barred vents. Sheen launched herself at the entrance to Merle's dome. It was locked closed.
'I don't have the facility to analyze this gas,' she cried. 'But I'll bet it's not cleaning fog. Breathe this, sir.' She opened the vial, holding it under his nose.
Vapor puffed out. Stile took the vial, sniffing it as the first waft of the other gas reached him. The vial's vapor was sweet and pleasant; the other gas was sour and stinging.
Sheen returned to the locked door. She opened her front cabinet, the left breast swinging out on hinges to reveal an array of small tools. Even in this crisis, Stile marveled at the completely womanish texture of that breast, when in fact it was a mere facade. Robotry was quite sophisticated.
In a moment Sheen had burned through the lock with a tiny laser unit and had the passage open. Stile hurried through. Sheen shut the door behind them, blocking off the gas, and closed up her breast cabinet. She was whole and normal and soft again.
Stile felt woozy and sick. The antidote in the vial had helped, but that poison gas was nasty stuff. Someone had tried to exterminate him!
Merle appeared. She was wearing a translucent negligee that did wonders for a body that hardly needed them. Stile noticed but hardly cared. He suffered himself to be led inside the Citizen's dome.
'I knew they were going to try something,' Merle said. 'I thought it would be at the Game Annex. I tried to get you here to safety, but they were too quick. I couldn't say anything on the holo; even a private line is only as private as the technology behind it.'
'Our staff forwarded the antidote, sir,' Sheen told her.
Stile sat in the comfortable chair where they had placed him, lacking initiative to do more than listen.
'My staff has found a better neutralizer,' Merle said. She brought a breathing mask. 'Use this, Stile.' She fitted it over his face.
Immediately his head began to clear and his stricken body recovered.
'The official indication is a malfunction in the cleaning apparatus,' Merle continued. 'It's not supposed to fog when anyone is there, and this time the wrong chemicals were used. We won't be able to trace it, but I know the cause. There are activist Citizens who want you out of the way, Stile; I fear this is but the first attempt. You should be safe here, however.'
Stile removed the breathing mask and smiled weakly. 'I thought you had another notion, Merle.'
'Oh, I do, I do. We have been through this before. But I do like you personally, Stile, and wish you well. You're the most refreshing thing to appear on the scene in some time. Fortunately the two notions are not incompatible.'
'I fear they are, Merle. You have helped me get into a difficult situation.' Stile's head had cleared, but his body remained weak; it was easier to talk than to act. He believed he could trust this woman.
'Do tell me!' she urged. 'I love challenges.'
'Are we private here?'
'Of course. I am neither as young nor as naive as I try to appear.'
'Will you keep my confidence?'
'About the liaison? Of course not! That must be known, or it doesn't count.'
'About whatever I may tell you of my situation.'
'I can't guarantee that, Stile. I know something about your situation already.'
'Maybe you should tell me what you know, then.'
'You are known as the Blue Adept in the other frame. Oh, yes, I have been to Phaze; my other self lacked rejuvenation and modern medicine and died a few years back of natural complications, freeing me. But magic is not for me; I remained there only a few hours and retreated to the safety of my dome here. The germs there are something fierce! I do, however, have a fold of the curtain passing through my property. I pay a harpy well to update me periodically on Phaze developments. This is how I learned more of you, once my interest in you was roused. You have been honeymooning with your lovely Phaze wife, but Adepts have been laying snares for you, until recently you disappeared into the demesnes of the goblins. My informant thought you dead, though she reports a dragon and a hawk emerged safely and flew rapidly southeast, eluding pursuit by Adept sendings. Evidently you survived by crossing the curtain. You seem to be a figure of some importance in Phaze - and perhaps in Proton too, judging by this assassination attempt.'
'What could you pay a harpy to serve you?' Stile asked, intrigued by this detail.
'She loves blood-soaked raw meat, but is too old and frail to catch it herself.'
'The others of her flock would provide,' Stile said, thinking of the harpy attack Clef had weathered upon his entry into Phaze. How important that entry had turned out to be!
'This one is a loner. No flock helps her.'
'Is she by chance your other self?'
Merle stiffened, then relaxed. 'Oh, you have a sharp tongue, Stile! No, it doesn't work that way, or I couldn't cross. My other self was exactly like me, only she seemed older. She did befriend the harpy, and when she died I assumed the burden of that friendship. It is not easy to get along with a harpy! Now will you tell me what I do not know about yourself?'
'Will you accept that information in lieu of the sexual liaison?' 'No, of course not, Stile. I accept it in exchange for the protection I am offering you here, and for the information I am giving you about the Citizen plot against you.'
She would not be swayed from her objective! She wanted another notch for her garter. He would have to give her the full story and hope it would persuade her to help him without insisting on the liaison. She might be displeased to learn about his bet in that connection, but at least it was no affront to her pride.
There was a chime and glimmer of light in the air. 'That's my holo,' Merle said. 'Call for you, Stile, blocked by my privacy intercept.'
'Better let it through,' he said. 'The enemy Citizens know I'm here anyway.'
The picture formed. It was the Brown Adept. 'The creatures don't believe me, Blue,' she said tearfully. 'They think I'm with the bad Adepts, trying to fool them. They are attacking my golems.'
Stile sighed. He should have known. 'What would it take to convince them?'
'Only thee thyself, Blue. Or maybe one of thy close friends, or the Lady Blue-'
'No! The Lady Blue must remain guarded by the unicorns. The Adepts will be watching her.'
'Maybe Neysa. She's friends with everybody.'
'The Herd Stallion won't let her go.' Stile hardly objected to the care provided for Neysa in her gravid state. Then he had an idea. 'Thy demesnes are near to the range of the werewolves, are they not? Kurrelgyre's Pack?'
She brightened. 'Sure, Blue. They come here all the time, hunting. But they don't believe me either.'
'But if Kurrelgyre believed, his Pack would help. The other animals would believe him.'
'I guess so,' she agreed dubiously. 'But thou wouldst have to tell him thyself.'
'I will,' Stile said. 'Give me half an hour.'
Brown's smile was like moonlight. 'Oh, thank thee, Blue!'
