Part 6 (1/2)
”Excellent. Take me to an appropriate and private place, and deliver.”
”Don't I always-sir?” She led the way out of the Game Annex.
The place turned out to be a temporary roinidome set up on the desert. Its generator tapped an underground power cable, so as to form the force field that prevented the thin, polluted outside atmosphere from penetrating. A portable unit filled the dome with pleasant, properly cooled air. Sheen set up a table for two, put out crackers, cheese, and mock wine, adjusted the field to turn opaque, and planted a spy-disrupter device on the ground. ”Now we are private, sir,” she said.
”You don't have to say sir to me,” he protested.
”Yes, I do, sir. You are a Citizen and I am a naked serf. We violate this convention at our peril.”
”But you've been my friend all along!”
”And once more than that, sir,” she reminded him. She had come to him as guardian and mistress, and had been good in both capacities. His marriage to the Lady Blue had deleted the second. Sheen, a machine supposedly without any human emotion not programmed into her, had tried to commit suicide-self-destruction. She had become reconciled after meeting the Lady Blue. Sheen still loved him, and for that Stile felt guilty.
”It occurs to me that, as a Citizen, I could have you reprogrammed to have no personal feeling toward me,” he said.
”This is true, sir.”
”Do you wish it?”
”No, sir.”
”Sheen, I value you greatly. I do not want you to suffer. That poem of Rue's-I am absolutely opposed to giving you cause to feel that way. Is there anything within my present power I can do to make you happy?”
”There is, sir. But you would not.”
She was uncompromising. She wanted his love again, physically if not emotionally, and that he could not give. ”Aside from that.”
”Nothing, sir.”
”But I may be able to make your friends happy. As Citizen, I can facilitate their recognition as sapient ent.i.ties.” Her friends were the self-willed machines of Proton who, like Sheen herself, had helped him survive Citizen displeasure in the past. He had sworn never to act against their interests so long as they did not act against the interests of man, and both parties honored that oath. Stile did not regard their desire to achieve serf status as contrary to the oath; he agreed they should have it. But such status was not easy to achieve; the Citizens were devoted to the status quo, ”All in good time, sir. Now shall we review the appurtenances and privileges of Citizens.h.i.+p?”
”By all means.”
Rapidly, in simple language, she acquainted him with his situation. He was ent.i.tled to use the proceeds from his share of the mines to purchase or construct a physical estate, to staff it with serfs, robots, androids, cyborgs, or anything else, and to indulge in any hobbies he wished. The amount of credit available from his share was sufficient to enable him to construct a moderate palace, hire perhaps twenty-five serfs, and buy six robots of Sheen's type. Expensive hobbies like exotic horse breeding or duplicating the Hanging Gardens of Babylon would have to wait until the palace was complete. The income of a Citizen was not limitless; it only seemed that way to serfs. It was possible, however, to increase one's resources by making and winning large wagers with other Citizens. Bets of a year's income were not uncommon. However, if a Citizen got two years in arrears, further wagers would not be honored until he caught up. It was never permitted for a Citizen to become dest.i.tute; a basic lifestyle had to be maintained. Appearance was vital.
”I'll have no problems there,” he said. ”I'm not a gambling man, outside the Game. I shall be a very conservative Citizen and live well within my income. Most of the time I won't even be here, as you know.”
She nodded sadly. ”Yes, sir. There's a note in the program from my friends. They warn it is not safe for you to stand pat. Forces are building rapidly. To protect yourself you must soon develop your estate to a hundred times its original magnitude. Within six months.”
”A hundred times!” he exclaimed. ”In six months!”
”And you must unravel the mystery that is a.s.sociated with your lasering, sir. Who sent me to protect you? My friends have disturbing new evidence that this is not an isolated event. Someone or something is interfering with your life, and my friends can't discover who.”
”Yes. And in Phaze, someone set the Red Adept against me on a false alarm.” He had had an extraordinary amount of trouble in that connection, ending in the banishment of the Red Adept from both Phaze and Proton. The Oracle had said Blue would destroy Red, and that had proved correct-but none of that mischief would have occurred if someone had not started the rumor that Blue intended to attack Red.
”And there was that earthquake, sir, which you believe is connected to events in Phaze,” she continued. ”Another portent, perhaps.”
”Definitely. The Platinum Elves informed me that I would be involved in important developments, after my honeymoon.” Ooops-he had not meant to mention the honeymoon to Sheen. He continued rapidly. ”I'm not sure I like the implication. I don't know what the linkages between frames might be, but since a number of people can cross, there can be interactions, perhaps quite serious ones.” He breathed deeply. ”I was psychologically prepared for banishment from Proton when I got eliminated from the Tourney. I'm not so certain about how to proceed now that I have permanent tenure. I don't feel comfortable here in clothing.”
”That is why you needed to isolate yourself, sir.” Stile got up and paced the small enclosure. ”I promised to return to Phaze by noon. I have already overrun that deadline. Why don't you set in motion the machinery for the establishment of my physical estate, and start hiring serfs, while I cross the curtain to-” ”
That might not be wise, sir.”
-Her constant ”sirs” were still getting on his nerves, but he knew this was good conditioning. ”Not wise?”
”You will need your money as a stake to multiply your estate, sir, so should not fritter it away on nonessentials. And if it became known that a machine was disposing your a.s.sets-”
”I am a Citizen, aren't I? I can use a machine if I want to, can't I?” Stile was irritated, not liking the implied slur at Sheen.
”Yes, sir.”
”So I'm appointing you my chief of staff, or whatever the appropriate office is. I'd better hire a staff of serfs, for appearances, and become a compulsive gambler. But I'll lose my new fortune unless I have competent input. Will your friends help?”
”They will, sir.”
”Then ask them to locate an appropriate adviser for me. One who knows how to break in a new Citizen.”
”And how to escalate a Citizen's fortune rapidly, sir.”
”Precisely. Now I'll go finish my honey-uh, my business in Phaze. a.s.suming I can get out of Proton un observed.”
”A Citizen can, sir,” she a.s.sured him. ”If you will make a brief, formal holo statement of authorization, so I can draw on your funds-”
”Ah, yes.” Stile took care of that immediately.
”Thank you, sir,” she said, accepting the recording. ”I shall set the wheels in motion.”
”Excellent. And I'll ponder what I can do for you and your friends.”
Sheen nodded, knowing he could do nothing for her.
She would serve him loyally and lovingly, regardless.
CHAPTER 5 - West Pole.
He was late, but the Lady Blue forgave him. ”I had the news before thee. Thou art a Citizen now.”
”It's anticlimactic,” Stile complained. ”Citizens.h.i.+p is the ultimate prize of Proton. Now that I have it, it's mainly a nuisance. Hidden forces decree that I must commence a new and chancy course, to be ready for even more tension. I wonder if this relates in any way to the promised mischief at the West Pole?”
”How can such complications arise now?” the Lady inquired rhetorically. ”All we seek is a simple honey moon.”
”Somehow I don't think we're going to have it.” They attended the snow. demons' banquet. It was magnificent, in its fas.h.i.+on. Candied icicles for aperitif, ice burgers, fried avalanche, sludge freeze as a beverage, and snow cones for dessert. The snow-demons pitched in with gusto; Stile and the Lady nibbled with imperfect enthusiasm, until Stile sneaked in a small spell and changed their morsels to items with food content concealed under snow frosting.
At night, side by side in a surprisingly comfortable s...o...b..nk, they talked. ”I have a problem,” Stile said qui etly.
”I think it must needs wait till the snowmen sleep,” she murmured. ”They exhibit unseemly curiosity as to how flesh-mortals perform without melting from generated heat.”