He woke in starry darkness. Something was wrong with his abdominal circuitry. He felt bloated. Had an oil valve clogged?
He checked at a service aperture, but found none; his fingers slid across unbroken skin. Then he remembered: he was in a living body!
That meant that he needed to release fluid, in the living manner. His robot body could eat and drink, but did not eliminate in the biological way; it simply regurgitated the material at a convenient time. Now he would have to perform in the fashion he had observed in human beings and androids.
He got up-and discovered that he was not alone. His hand brushed across the torso of another living creature. The unicorn?
He peered, and made out the vague outline. Not an animal, but a man! His hand helped define the leg, arm, breast-
It was female!
Mach withdrew. Evidently he had not awakened her, and that was probably best. How had she come here?
She must have walked up the path, arriving after he was asleep. Perhaps this was where she regularly spent the night. She had seen him, and had simply settled down beside.
That seemed too simple, but it would have to do for now. He needed to find a suitable place to relieve himself.
He felt about with his feet, but knew that there was no place within this enclosure. He would have to go outside. So he walked carefully in the direction he remembered the entrance to be, and found the wall. The starlight from above did help. He moved along the wall, finding the exit. A gentle breeze gusted through it, refreshingly cool. In the distance was the sound of some night bird.
He established himself at the edge of the path, aimed his liquid-disposal appendage, and let go down the mountainside. It was a great relief. However, this reminded him of his thirst, which had not really been slaked at the swamp, and this now manifested with renewed force. Another problem of the living state!
He returned inside the crater. He would just have to sleep until morning, and then see what offered. Perhaps the human female would know where there was water. And food-he would be hungry soon.
But as he came to the brush pile, he realized that the female was awake. Indeed, she was sitting up, peering at him.
'I-I was uncomfortable,' he said awkwardly. Natural functions were normally not discussed between the sexes in Proton, and he assumed it was the same here.
'Bane,' she said. Her voice was pleasant, having an almost flutelike quality.
'I don't understand.'
'Bane-is thy game over?' she asked.
'Game?'
She sighed. 'Not over. Then I will play it on with thee. Do thou kiss me, and we shall sleep.'
'Kiss?' he asked, perplexed.
She stood, rising lithely to her feet. She approached him, reached up, took hold of his head with both her hands, and brought her face to his. She kissed him on the mouth. 'Long has it been since we played thus,' she said. 'Come, now; sleep.' She tugged him toward the nest.
Mach followed, bemused. This girl seemed to know him, and she wanted to sleep. There were several meanings for that word, and he was not sure which one applied, so he simply lay down in the fragrant brush beside her, as she seemed to want. If she intended sexual expression, he could do that; as a robot he had the hardware, and was programmed to-but no, he wasn't a robot anymore! Still, as a living man he had similar capacities, and she seemed to be an attractive girl; he could do whatever seemed to be called for.
She squeezed his hand, turned her head to the side, and slept. In a moment her gentle breathing signaled her condition.
Relieved, Mach did the same. He wondered whether she would still be there when morning came.
As it happened, she was. He woke to the pressure of her little hand, tousling his hair. 'Wake, Bane!' she exclaimed. 'What is the game today? Naked through the swamp again?'
That made him realize that though he was properly naked, she was not. She wore a black cloak that covered her body from neck to ankle. He remembered, now, that he had felt cloth about her body in the night; he had assumed it was a cover, not clothing.
Now he had to ascertain the situation. He had three alternatives. First, she might be in costume, considering this to be a play; indeed she had mentioned a game. Second, she might be a serf masquerading as a Citizen. That was of course dangerous. Third, she might actually
He had to know. A Citizen always had to be addressed with the proper forms of respect. But a serf in Citizen garb had to be set straight immediately, before real trouble came of it.
'Sir, I must know,' he said, erring on the safe side. 'What is your status?'
She looked at him, her green eyes seeming to twinkle. ' 'Sir'? What speech be this, Bane?'
So she was not a Citizen. Just as well! 'Then you are a serf?'
'Serf? Bane, if thou willst but tell me thy game, I will play it with thee. But I know not the rules of it.'
'What is this 'thee' business?' he asked.
She smiled. Her black hair framed her face, and she wore a pearl at her forehead; she was lovely in her joy. 'A game of language!' she exclaimed, clapping her hands.
'No game. I just don't understand. Who are you? Where did you come from? Why do you use the archaic forms? Why are you garbed?'
She cocked her head at him cannily. 'So we call it not a game. That can I do. As for who I be, as if thou dost not know: I am Fleta, thy companion of yore. I speak as thy kind does; wouldst rather have me neigh? As for my garb-why there be no need for it, if this be the game!' And she reached down, caught hold of the hem of her cloak, and drew it up over her head. In a moment she stood before him naked, for she wore no underclothing. 'Be that better, Bane?'
'Yes,' he agreed. She was a most comely figure of a young woman, perfectly formed and standing just slightly shorter than he. 'But why are you calling me Bane? Do you know me?'
'What wouldst thou be called, then?' she inquired merrily.
'My name is Mach.'
She laughed. 'What a stupid name!'
He frowned. 'Is Fleta a more intelligent name?'
'Certainly! But I will try to keep my laughter down while I call thee Mach.' Indeed, she did try, but the laughter bubbled up from her stomach, caused her breasts to bounce, and finally burst out of her mouth. She flung her arms about him and kissed him, as she had in the night. 'O, Bane-I mean Ma-Ma-' A giggle overcame her, but she fought through it. 'Mach! What a romp have we here! I feared thou hadst forgotten me in thy serious studies of blue magic; how glad I be to learn not!'
'Fleta, I have to say that I do not know you. What's this about magic?'
'Ah, wait till I tell the fillies of the herd of this! Never played we music like this!'
'If you would just answer my questions,' Mach said somewhat stiffly.
'As thou dost wish,' she agreed. 'But first may we eat? and O, I see thou art all scratched! Why dost thou not heal thyself?'
'Heal myself?' he asked blankly. 'I think only time can do that.'
'With thy magic,' she explained. 'Surely the game be not such that thou must suffer such smarts!'
'I don't know anything about magic!' he protested.
She made a moue. 'Or wouldst thou have the unicorn heal thee instead?'
'The unicorn!' he exclaimed, alarmed. 'What do you know about that?'
She stared at him, then smiled again, dismissing his supposed ignorance. 'Thy memory seems brief, lately!'
'A unicorn brought me here last night, after rescuing me from monsters in the swamp. I don't know why; do you?'
She shook her head so that the lustrous hair swirled. 'Who can know the mind of a 'corn!' she exclaimed, laughing again. 'Mayhap she thought thou didst call for help.'
