Phaze Doubt Part 35

Lysander turned to Oche. "I always knew you were both," he said. "I knew the harpy watched everything. I knew she way the brain in your machine, just as you knew a living Hectare was the brain in my laboratory-generated body. What ha? changed is only a detail. I love the whole of you. If you love me-"

"Aye," she said. Then she stepped into him, and they embraced. "But I think thy body be human now too, Lysan."

"All the way human? But that would mean-"

"That we can have a family," she finished.

He realized that his future was likely to be even more busy than his past. But there was no time now to ponder the implications; they had to organize for the reorganization of the frames.

Epilog They gathered beside the wooden castle of the Brown Demesnes. Tsetse looked out a window and spied them. "Brown-there's an army outside! But a moment ago it was just open fields!"

"Mayhap it be Franken returning," Brown said. "His step can shake the ground. He were on errand, returning the Book o' Magic to the Red Adept."

"No, I mean there really are people out there," Tsetse insisted. "And animals, and everything."

"Methought I felt a conjuration," Brown said. Because her selves were the same, and Tsetse had only one self, the two of them had not been affected by the exchange of ident.i.ties. It had taken a while to get used to the quarter turn the compa.s.s had taken, making the sun now rise and set at the North and South Poles instead of the East and West ones, but the climate of her region had changed only slightly. She considered herself well off in most respects, now that the alien conquest had been reversed.

But whatever could have caused this sudden gathering? She gazed out, and spied wolves, unicorns, elves, demons, animal heads, BEMs, and of course human folk. It seemed to be some kind of celebration, for the folk were brightly garbed and there appeared to be picnic sheets spread out.

"Needs must we go out and see," Brown decided, speaking positively though she was perplexed and a bit nervous.

"Maybe I should stay in," Tsetse said.

Brown came to a decision. "Nay, friend. I love thee and will deny thee not. An thou lovest me, come face the world with me."

"If you're sure-"

"I know only that I will live a lie no longer, come what may." She took the woman by the hand, kissed her, and led her to the front portal.

Outside, the gathering was organized almost like an army, with contingents spread in a large semicircle, and a small group centered, facing the castle entrance. As Brown walked out, the visitors came to attention, silently.

At the head of the a.s.sembly was Purple, whether Citizen or Adept she would not know until he spoke-and then she would remain in doubt, because of the reversals. This was another surprise; she had thought him imprisoned again. Just behind him stood the woman Alyc, the one who had dated Lysander but then worked for the enemy. Evidently she had found another companion. Brown stopped before Purple, Tsetse beside her.

Purple spoke. "Thou knowest my life be forfeit, for that I twice betrayed my culture. Thou must believe I bespeak thee truth now. I yield naught to none, except to thee, for that thou didst treat me kindly. Know, Adept, that the specter I held o'er thee were but a phantom; others differ but judge thee not for it, as thou dost not judge them. An thou accept it not from thy friends, accept it from thine enemy: it be no barrier for thee."

She stared at him. There was only one subject he could be addressing. Had he come to shame her openly, before them all?

Purple stepped forward. He caught Tsetse's timid hand. "My purpose in sending thee to the Brown Demesnes were malevolent," he told her. "I sought to blackmail her, that she would serve the Hectare. But it were a lie. None begrudge Brown her way or thee thine. I now renounce any power I had o'er thee, Tsetse, and wish thee well." He turned to Brown. "Deep do I regret repaying thy kindness with malice, and using a lie to savage thee. Thou didst deserve it not."

He turned in place and walked away. Alyc followed.

"Wait!" Brown cried. "What did they promise thee, to make thee speak so?"

He paused. "That need concern thee not. Be a.s.sured I bespoke thee the truth."

"It does concern me!" she insisted. "I know thou dost do naught for naught. What-?"

"A clean and painless death," he said, and resumed his walk- "Nay!" she cried, hurrying after him. "I wished this not on thee! We made a deal, and I agreed nor to seek harm to thee neither to be silent an I learned o' harm coming."

"This be not o' thy making," he said gruffly, still walking. "In any event, the deal be off; it were in power only while the Hectare governed. Concern thyself not farther on this matter."

But she could not let it go. "An they brought thee here for a public execution, I tolerate it not! I forgive thee aught thou intended, and thank thee for bringing me a companion. Thou must not die!"

"I ask this not o' thee," Purple said, pausing again. "I came only to spare myself a life confined, under geis. An the truth purchase me that, I be satisfied."

Brown looked to the side. There was the Blue Adept and the Lady Blue. "Stile! I beg thee, an our friends.h.i.+p mean aught, let not this horror be!"

Stile lifted his hands. "Thou be pardoned, Purple, at Brown's behest. An thou do no further evil, we spare thee death and confinement, and thy paramour too. Get thee gone from our sight." He was evidently somewhat disgusted-but only somewhat. He had never been a vengeful man, when there were reasonable alternatives. He turned to the Hectare standing behind him. "Do thou input it to thy net: he to be watched but not molested."

The BEM extended one small tentacle, its tip tilted up.

Slowly Purple turned. "Lady, thou be more generous to me than I were to thee. I thank thee for what I expected not." Then he turned again and walked away, and no one challenged him.

No one except Alyc, who tackled him and embraced him. He put an arm around her. He had always had an eye for young women, and she was reputed lo be a most pa.s.sionate one.

Now Brown saw the Tan Adept, with the vampire Jod'e beside him. Tan had used his power to fascinate the lovely bat woman, who was blameless. Brown opened her mouth.

"And Tan, pardoned," Blue said before Brown could speak.

The BEM made another note.

"I thank thee, O my lady!" Jod'e exclaimed.

Tan walked away, with Jod'e. Brown had to admit that they did make a decent couple. With a bat wife, Tan would not again betray the interests of Phaze.

Another couple came forward. It was Lysander, who had turned out to be another enemy spy, but who had in the end chosen to help save Phaze, and his companion Echo or Oche. "When you took Tsetse to Hardom to help Purple play his game with the Hectare, I was the one you took, in the guise of Tsetse. I apologize for deceiving you in this manner."

Brown was amazed. "Thou? A man?" But she realized that it was possible. She had known that the person was larger than Tsetse, and of course she hadn't verified for gender.

"Yes. The prophecy indicated that my cooperation was required if the planet sh.e.l.l was to be saved. Thus I was integral to Phaze Doubt, and Nepe brought me to help her fetch the key element of the counterploy."

Phaze Doubt. She realized that that would have been their name for the project to save Phaze. "The key element?"

An attractive young woman of about seventeen stepped up. "I was the one he fetched, in the form of a BEM seed," she said. "I am known currently as Weva, though with the reversal this is approximate. I want to thank you, Adept, for enabling me to come into existence, and to help save Phaze."

So this was the new BEM Adept, whose music had indeed saved Phaze! Without her, all would have been lost. "I be glad, now, it happened," Brown said.

"My companion Flach sends his regrets, and those of the Robot Adept; they are occupied at the moment in conjuring the last snow demons to the western reaches, where it is now suitably cold. I offered to help, but Flach preferred to handle it himself."

Brown looked at her. "Thou dost disagree?"

Weva smiled wryly. "Not really. I think he has to bid farewell to a certain snow demoness before he can get serious about me."

Brown laughed. "Methinks I heard about Icy! Believe me, he had his future not with her!"

"True. But I think I will remind him of it several times before I let him settle down to his future with me. Meanwhile, I am glad to meet you, who were instrumental in my genesis. I had no parents, really, but I always thought that someone like you-" She shrugged. "A foolish notion, of course."

"A mother figure?" Brown asked, amazed.

"I should not have mentioned it," Weva said quickly, flus.h.i.+ng. "Now I realize that I had no right to cast you as-"

"Nay, girl, I be not affronted!" Brown exclaimed. "Gladly would I have had a child like thee, an it been possible without-"

A tear showed at the girl's eye. "Then-?"

"May I hug thee, Weva?"

"Oh, yes!" Weva opened her arms and embraced her.

"Thou must visit me," Brown said. "Thou and thy young-" She hesitated. "Flach and Nepe be similarly reversed?"

"Yes. We are working it out. For now, we agree that he is male and I female. In time I'm sure the ambiguity will be resolved."

"Surely it will," Brown agreed. It occurred to her that there could be another reason that Weva chose to identify with her, Brown. That s.e.xual ambiguity...

Now a unicorn stepped forward. It was Neysa. She a.s.sumed 'her woman form, actually that of Nessie the Moebite emulating hers. "I be last," she said, " 'cause my burden be most onerous."

"Thou?" Brown asked, astonished. "Thou hast been always my best friend, Neysa!"

"Aye. That be why my pain be most, that I betrayed thee in thine hour o' need."

"What? Thou didst ne'er-"

"Nay, I did! When thou didst tell me what I somehow hall ne'er fathomed before, and sought my support."

"Thou gavest it, Neysa. Thou didst-"

"I said thy shame would not be known. I, who loved outside my species, and had not the courage to confess it, and who condemned my filly when she did have the courage-how could' I have condemned thee for loving in other manner! I were hypocrite when I hurt thee, Brown, and deep be my thereof." There had been one tear at Weva's eye; there was t stream at Neysa's eyes. "It were not thy shame, O truest friend it were mine."

Brown opened her mouth to protest, but was frozen. For from the mare radiated the splash of truth. It caused the air to s.h.i.+mmer, and the ground to ripple, and the sky to s.h.i.+ft color. crossed the a.s.sembled folk, and from them radiated echoing splashes, their ripples crisscrossing. That backwash intersected the spot where Brown and Tsetse stood, and suddenly Brown felt the great current of support from all the gathering. The knew-and they accepted her way, as she accepted theirs.

Brown embraced Neysa. "There be no shame," she said. Now it was true. The last doubt of Phaze had been resolved.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This is the second Author's Note in this series of no-note novels. Don't froth at the mouth; you read this novel for better or worse.

One of the criticisms of my Author's Notes has been that a novel should stand on its own and not need to be explained separately. I suspect that such critics read neither the novels nor the notes with much comprehension, because normally my notes discuss not the novels, but my life and times during the writing of the novels, or they may give credits to particular readers who suggested notions used in the novels. Well, muster your ire, because this time I shall discuss the novel.

Two names were borrowed from those of readers who wrote to me, though the characters surely bear little resemblance to the originals: Alyc and Jod'e. Another went the other way: Icy turned up in real life as a reviewer in an amateur magazine, Fosfax.

I was accused of doing a poor presentation of a lesbian, in the second Adept novel, Blue Adept. It must have been poor, because I had no lesbian character there, or in any of my novels. Apparently some readers a.s.sumed that a woman who hated men had to be a lesbian; I don't see it that way. But in this novel I do have a lesbian, and any of that persuasion may now chastise me for doing it wrong. Certainly h.o.m.os.e.xuality is not one of my stronger subjects, but I felt that it wasn't fair to exclude a sizable segment of the human population-about ten per cent-from representation in my fiction. Do I think that such folk are misguided, and that appropriate therapy will show them the error of their ways? No. No more than therapy would turn me gay. I would resent anyone, however well intentioned, trying to reverse my s.e.xual orientation, so I follow the Golden Rule and leave the gay community alone. No, I don't exclude them from friends.h.i.+p, and yes, I wouldn't want my daughter to marry one. Fair enough?

There were several problems in the course of the writing of this novel. For example, in the interest of developing new games for the game sections, I subscribed to World Game Review-and then didn't use it. The novel led me in other directions than I expected. This sort of thing happens to writers. Sometimes characters take over their roles, too, and enlarge their parts, as Icy the demon chief's daughter did. She was supposed to be a bit part, but she played me for a sucker with that sweater. You know, the one with the mountain contours.

I had intended to present the Master Game Grid layout here, so that interested readers could see exactly how every game was derived from the a.s.sorted grids and subgrids. But when I checked, I discovered no Master Grid. Oops! Two things, actually three, had happened. Years back I had worked out the full grid, and spent three hours one morning perfecting its details-then made an error on the computer that wiped out everything. I was never able to re-create it as I had had it. I can get very upset by such things, and I labor to see that they happen only once. Then I changed from CP/M to MS-DOS, and got everything set up-and a hard disk crash took it out. Later I changed computers, and my old one glitched. In sum, I couldn't get anything that might have been salvaged. I was dependent on prior printouts. But I had also moved to a new house, and my back papers were buried somewhere in the refuse, where we are slowly cleaning up a decade's worth of neglect. Eventually we'll find those printouts, under a pile of other ma.n.u.scripts. But I had a novel to do now. Which meant I had to do it without the Master Grid. Aarrgh!

Ah, now you understand. I faked it. This will be no news for reviewers, who have been privy to the fact that I faked any ability as a writer from the outset of my career. But I am sorry that I was unable to provide the Master Grid; it was my pride.

I try to benefit from anything that happens. Sometimes it's a struggle. I received a letter from a reader, Ben Mays, who said that his play group would be putting on a show in my county at such and such a date. I hate to take time off from writing to sleep, let alone for anything else, but I do have an interest in drama. I acted in college, and while I'm sure I was not a great actor, it benefited me by helping me to abolish stage fright and teaching me how to make myself heard by an audience when there was no mike. I support the arts, and acting is one of them. So I made myself to go the play.

It was a disaster. Oh, the play was all right, I'm sure; it was Red Fox/Second Hanging, and was of the kind where stage and costuming are minimal. In fact there were only three actors, all male, covering perhaps a dozen parts. They changed parts almost in midsentence, going from scene to scene without pause. It started as a dialogue with the audience and worked seemingly by accident into the content of the play, but was actually highly integrated. It was a story of backwoods Kentucky, corruption and law enforcement and odd histories. The whole thing was the kind that you don't see on ma.s.s market television, and yes, I think it's great that small groups maintain the tradition and bring this sort of art to communities like ours. Attendance was free, even.

So what's my gripe? Well, I was dead center in the audience, and the acoustics were such that the sound came at me from left and right, overlapped and garbled, and I could barely make out one word in ten. It was like watching TV with the sound turned down, or with interference that made the sound unintelligible: you can't get much of the sense of it, but do have a glimpse of what you are missing. I suffered about two hours of that, thinking how I could have been home working on this novel instead. What a waste! Others heard it, and there was a standing ovation at the conclusion, which I didn't join, because it would have been hypocrisy; I don't do something just to conform. If only I hadn't been stuck in that dead spot.

After the play I located Ben Mays and explained why I couldn't say anything about the play. He said that that is a problem in some theaters, and wondered why I hadn't moved to a better spot. Well, I should have, but I hadn't realized how big a difference location can make; I might have made a scene by moving, only to be in a worse spot. He also said that they had it on video ca.s.sette. Oh, okay. He sent me the catalog, and I ordered that and some records and audio tapes while I was at it. As I said, I support the enterprise, and one good way to support it is to buy their productions.

At this writing I haven't listened to any of it, because I have to a.s.semble my new record and ca.s.sette tape players and I was determined to finish this novel before taking a break for anything else. But the material has had an effect on me, because one of the records, Heartdance, put out by a group called Song of the Wood, has a beautiful wraparound cover painting showing monstrous stone musical instruments cracking and being overgrown at a sh.o.r.eline, as if some giant left them there millennia ago, and a girl dancing at the top of the fifty-foot-high hammered dulcimer. Beyond is a bucolic countryside, a village hamlet, and a distant castle on a hill. That picture fascinates me. In fact it set my fevered brain working, and I may use that as the setting for a future novel. Girl tunes in to the music of the ancient G.o.ds and dances to it, there at their ruins, and life stirs in the great old instruments that none alive can play, and- But I don't mean to bore you. My point is that via this devious channel I did gain something of value to me: a compelling picture and an idea. However, I did try to use the experience of attending the play in this novel. When Purple played the game of the Cretan mystery with the BEM, that was really an unstructured play. Of course it didn't resemble the play I had seen, because I hadn't heard it, but it was what came out after the experience slopped around in my cranium for a while. So if you liked that scene, then you can say I benefited, and if you didn't like it, you can say I didn't.

When I got into that scene, I had a real headache working out the devious ploys and counterploys. I set it in ancient Crete because that is one of the aspects of ancient history that fascinate me. You may have noticed that I sneak bits of history into my novels, because my love is for the far future and far past; only the present bores me. Fine; I completed the scene and moved on. Then when I came through on my editing sweep, I got into trouble again.

You see, there are two pillars at the main gate to the great Palace at Knossos. One is round in cross section, the other square. I called the round one a cylinder, but what's a square one? It took me forty-five minutes to run that down (an ornery writer just doesn't know when to quit), and then I couldn't use the word. It's a right parallelepipedon (or you can leave off the last two letters). Technically, a polyhedron with right-angled parallelograms as faces. That is, a figure with four rectangular sides and two square ends. If all six sides were squares, it would be called a cube. Why couldn't they have had a simple four-letter word for a stretched-out cube? I decided on "block-shaped" and I do feel like a blockhead for wasting so much time on it. I mean, what idiot would spend three quarters of an hour editing a single word? Sigh; the worst of it is that I know that next time such a thing occurs, I'll do it again.

Yet in the course of that spot research I ascertained that the fabled land of Atlantis was in fact Crete (I looked in the book that showed the square columns, you see), destroyed by the eruption of Thera about 3,500 years ago. Those of you who have spent your lives searching for Atlantis may now relax; my forty-five minutes has serendipitously solved your problem. No, don't thank me; I do this sort of thing routinely for my readers.

Thus the troubled course of this novel, which is typical for me. Those who believe that great works of literature spring full-formed from the head of the author and that lesser ilk requires even less effort will want nothing to do with me, because I struggle and sweat over even indifferent material, as in this case. Most real writers do. But how I love that struggle!

This is the conclusion of the seven-novel Adept trilogy. To forestall the screams of outrage by fans of the series who never want it to end, and the sighs of relief by critics who never wanted it to start, let me explain that I regard some series as open, meaning they can continue as long as the market tolerates them, and some as closed, meaning that when their tales are told they are allowed to retire. This series is the latter type. This does not mean that I am abandoning fantasy, just that I am making way for a new series, Virtual Mode, whose framework is such that the whole of the Proton/Phaze frames can be considered a subset of it. That means in turn that should I some day suffer an irresistible urge to write another Adept novel, I could do so in the Mode context. That's neither a promise, fans, nor a threat, critics; merely a clarification I hope allows each of you to relax. This series has been phased out. Of course I have been wrong before, when I thought it was complete as a three-novel set; like a tropical tree, a series can sometimes regenerate from the roots. But I think it's done.