Part 12 (1/2)

Mach peered down into a crack. Demons down there? After the monsters he had already seen, he didn't want any more.

They proceeded to a region where the cracks were so extensive that they covered more area than the ground did. Mach found this nervous business; one slip could plunge him into the darkness below. But Fleta evidently knew where she was going.

They came to a dead end. Ahead and to either side the crevices closed them in; only behind was there a jagged path.

Fleta gestured. Mach saw that the path resumed beyond a narrow part of the crack. They would have to jump.

Fleta showed the way. She took a running start, then leaped, landing neatly on the other side. She moved back out of the way, giving him room.

Mach followed suit. He had trained for jumping in the Game, and this body was the same as his own, apart from the fact that it was alive. It was healthy and responsive. He could handle this readily, even when tired.

They went on, winding through the maze. Mach wondered how such a configuration of terrain had come about. Was there an equivalent feature in Proton? He had never really explored the exterior world there; now he wished he had.

They came to another jump. Mach realized that Fleta knew exactly where the gaps were narrowest; otherwise they would soon have been lost amidst impa.s.sable cracks.

But just as she was about to leap, a grotesque head popped up from the chasm. ”Hhaarr!” it growled.

”The demons!” Fleta exclaimed with dismay. ”Me-thought we would not rouse them!”

Other heads appeared from the cracks to the sides and rear. The two of them were surrounded!

”Seems more like a trap to me,” Mach muttered. ”We weren't making a lot of noise.”

Now the demons were scrambling to the surface. Each had a body as misshapen as its head. Short legs, huge long arms, bulbous chest-barrel, horns and tail. And gaping mouths bulging with yellow teeth.

”There be no reasoning with demons,” Fleta said. 'They eat our kind.”

Mach did not see much hope, but he was ready to fight. ”Stand back to back with me,” he said, drawing his axe. ”I'll club any that come close.”

'That will not stop them; they feel not much pain. O, Mach, I fear the time has come to let the secret be known.”

”Your secret?” he asked, watching warily as the circle of demons closed in about them. ”I think it had better wait until we have fought off this crowd.” But he had severe misgivings about that; each demon was approximately his own size, and there were many of them. Unless he could figure out an effective spell. What rhymed with ”demon”?

”I be the unicorn,” Fleta said. 'Thou must ride me to safety. Now!”

”You-what?” But as he looked at her, she vanished. In her place was the black unicorn who had saved him twice before.

The closest demon lunged. Mach swung his axe, catching the creature in the face. The blade cut right through, splitting the head in two-but there was no blood, and the demon kept coming. Now he understood Fleta's reluctance to fight these things; they were truly inhuman.

He dodged the demon, then leaped to the back of the unicorn and grabbed a handful of black mane. 'Take off!”

She started moving. A demon grabbed for her, but the long horn whipped about and speared the thing, shoving it back and over into the chasm behind it. Then the unicorn started trotting back along the path, where there were fewer demons; progress forward was impossible, because there was a phalanx of the creatures.

The demons pursued, but they could not match the velocity of the unicorn. In a moment the two of them were clear.

But more demons were climbing from the cracks back along the path. There seemed to be an endless number of them. Another phalanx of them formed up before the other jump, grinning.

But now the unicorn had velocity and inertia. She charged straight into them, bowling them over. At the brink she leaped, carrying Mach and a clutching demon with her. Mach twisted about and clubbed the demon on the head; when that had no effect, he chopped at the arm it had clutching the mane, and severed it. Then the demon dropped away, leaving the hand and part of the arm still locked on.

Now the crevices became too small to hide demons, and that threat abated. The unicorn charged on, her hooves striking the firm places with precision. She knew what she was doing; she must have traveled this route many times before!

In an amazingly brief time they were back at the fork in the path, alone. The unicorn stopped, and Mach dismounted.

Without any intermediate stage, the animal vanished and Fleta reappeared. She looked at him sadly. ”Now thou dost know,” she said.

Suddenly it all made sense. He had called in the swamp, and the unicorn had heard, thinking him to be Bane, and had charged to the rescue of her long-time friend. She had taken him to the safety of the crater. Then, when he acted strangely, she had left him, only to return later in human guise. She had learned that he distrusted the unicorn, and that he was not the friend she had known, so she had concealed her nature from him.

When the harpies had attacked, she had had to change to the equine form again, to rescue him. Then back to the form of the woman, to be his companion. And now, unable to save him any other way, she had revealed her secret at last.

Now he remembered stray remarks. ”Wouldst rather have me neigh?” and ”Wait till I tell the fillies of the herd!” And the warning of the harpy that he was with Ban animal. And her reference to her ”dam.” So many little hints, none of which had he understood.

And her att.i.tude about their acquaintance. She liked him-but could not afford to love him. Because she was I an animal, and he a man. She had played games with Bane, who knew her nature, as children would; if the ”games became more intimate than those of normal children with normal pets, it was only because a unicorn was no normal pet. Fleta had human intelligence and feelings.

So much she had done for him, knowing it to be futile as far as any enduring relations.h.i.+p went. Knowing that he would be leaving her, returning to his frame, helping him to do that. Knowing too that even if he remained here in Phaze, his att.i.tude toward her would abruptly change the moment he learned her ident.i.ty.

Except that he was not precisely what she evidently thought he was. She believed he would reject her for being an animal. How would she react to learning that he was a machine?

”Let me tell you about me,” he said.

”I know about thee,” she said. ”Thou'rt the son of the one who was the Blue Adept before Stile, his other self.”

”I am more truly the son of Sheen,” he said.

”Who?”

That was what he had suspected. The story of Blue's marriage in Proton had not spread about the frame of Phaze. ”Sheen is a machine,” he said. ”A humanoid robot. Do you know what that means?”

”Why dost thou talk about such confusion, when I have at last revealed myself to thee and await with fear thy reaction?”

”Because I think I have a secret that will affect your att.i.tude as much as your secret affects me.”

”Thou'rt an animal of Proton? I know thou'rt not!”

”I am a machine, the son of a machine. A creature of metal and plastic and other inanimate substances.”

”Thou'rt flesh and blood!” she protested. ”I have seen thee bleed!”

”This body is flesh and blood. I am not the one to whom it belongs. In Proton I am a robot.”

”A rovot,” she agreed. ”What type of person be that?”

”A creature who resembles a man, but is not alive.”

”A golem!” she exclaimed.

Mach considered, then agreed. ”Close enough. A creature who has been made rather than birthed. Who does not have to eat, or breathe, or sleep. Who cannot feel pain. Who can walk indefinitely without tiring. Who can imitate the ways of a man, but is not a man.”