Robot Adept by Piers Anthony Page A

circuit, so passed it through because of the context; you were merely echoing her command, which it had heard. But if she noticed—“
    “Ro-bot,” she said. “Ro-bot, ro-bot. I can say it if I try. But is that an error Agee would make?”
    “No. Since there should be no suspicion that you are here, instead of Agee, and that is not typical of her speech, it should pass unnoticed. Actually, you passed the real test: Tania knew that if you had any emotional attachment to me, you would have had trouble putting through that requisition. You showed no hesitation.”
    “I dared not hesitate,” she said. “But oh, Mach—“
    “This may have been a routine verification,” he said.   “But the Citizens are looking for us, and we were as signed within the key period. It could have been a preliminary to the pounce.”
    “The pounce?”
    “If you were looking desperately for a person, and suspected that that person was already in your power, would you alert that person?”
    “Nay.”
    “The threat to replace me could even be a diversion.   They want me with them, not away from them. But you are the real target; if they have you, they have me.   You must be the one to escape. I must show you how to incapacitate a human being, and how to melt and reform.”
    They worked on it. He pointed out the vulnerable places on the human body, male and female: the spots that could be pressured to bring pain or unconsciousness or death. “If I give the word, you do that to whoever bars your way,” he Said. “Then get to this waste chute and melt into it as fast as you can.”
    They drilled on melting, until she could do it with fair swiftness. She practiced moving in the melted state: flowing like goo across the floor, then reforming into something that could climb. “The self-willed machines will help you at the other end, but you have to get through that screen yourself,” he said. “Remember: wait for my signal, then act without question when I give it. Have no concern about me; I am not threatened.   Trust the machines. Their forms vary widely, but they are with me. I am a self-willed machine.”
    “Aye,” she agreed, frightened.
    Next day Citizen Tan himself stopped by, in the voluminous tan cloak or robe that identified him as a Citizen: a member of the only class privileged to wear clothing in Proton. He was the same age as his sister—they were twins—and similar of feature, especially in the eyes. Their tan irises and intensity were eerie. Fleta was afraid of him. Did he suspect her nature, either as Agape or as Fleta? If so, they were lost!   The Citizen asked a number of routine questions. He seemed gentler than his sister, but there was a sureness about his manner that continued to strike alarm in her.   What was he up to?
    Then, abruptly, she found out. He reached out to catch and squeeze one of her breasts. “Android, I like your look,” he said. “Enter the sleeping chamber with me.”
    She followed him into the chamber where the bed was.
    “Lie supine, spread your legs,” he said, as he opened his robe. Then, to Mach in the other room: “Robot!   Come here and take my robe.”
    Mach entered the room and took the robe. He stepped back, watching the proceedings, showing no expression.
    Serfs had no rights with respect to Citizens; she had known that as a bit of otherframe folklore all her life.   Just as animals had none with respect to Adepts. Power made the only law. But how could she tolerate this?   He was going to use her sexually!
    If she protested, she would give herself away. If she did not, what would Mach—or Bane—do?
    But Mach had told her to wait for his signal before acting. She had to rely on his judgment. She lay down on her back and spread her legs.
    It was another irony, she thought, that the sexual act as human beings performed it had no inherent meaning for either her or Agape. She normally would indulge in it only when in heat, for the sole purpose of breeding; only her