Unicorn Point (7 page)

“That is the whole of it,” the interrogator agreed.
 
It did make sense. Tania might be arrogant and cynical, but she had desires too, and she wanted the best for herself.
 
He understood her longing for Phaze; that longing had never left him. So there was genuine desire, under her artificiality.
 
But what of Nepe?

“Tell what you know or suspect of Nepe’s disappearance.”

“I used her only as a lever to force your acquiescence. I know nothing of any plot against her, and do not believe that there is any. Her disappearance is a mystery to me. Indeed, I am chagrined by it, because it completely destroyed my initiative with you.”

There was the pause. “That is the whole truth,” the interrogator said.

Mach, amazed, tried once more. “Do you know of any other plot against me or Nepe or Agape, or have you any suspicion of such?”

“No.”

“That is not the whole truth.”

“Damn that machine!” she flared again. “Only in the sense that the child is valuable. She is developing powers that could make her a significant asset to our side. She might even learn to communicate with her opposite in Phaze. Therefore we have instituted a watch on her, to ensure that we know at such time as her powers develop. We have no plot against her, only the intent to keep her with us, by whatever means is required. Her disappearance is as much a concern to us as to you, Mach, and we shall make every effort to recover her unharmed. That is the whole truth.”

And the interrogator agreed.

Surely she would have known or suspected, had there been any plot. She had exonerated herself and her side.
 
“But Nepe is considered retarded,” he said.

“She is not. She hides her developing abilities from you.
 
We see this because we have tracked her constantly, when she is not in the protected suite of her grandfather. Recently we have observed less; we suspect this is not because she is slowing, but because she has learned of our observation.”

“But how could she have escaped your surveillance?”

“We are very interested in learning that. I can only conjecture that some third party has taken action.” Then she looked directly at him. “We really are on the same side, Mach, in this respect.”

“That is the truth,” the interrogator said.
 
So it had come to nothing. Tania was relatively innocent, and he knew no more of Nepe’s disappearance than he had before. “I must go to her mother,” he said.
 

“Remember!” she called as he turned away. “You owe me, Mach!”

“That is true,” the interrogator said as Mach left.
 
He went to Agape’s apartment and put his hand against the door panel. It recognized him and admitted him immediately.
 
She was there. When he was inside, she touched a button, and an opacity closed about them. It was the privacy shield, normally invoked for lovemaking; but she knew he was not Bane, and there was none of that between them.
 
She was out of focus, and he knew she had been, in her fashion, crying. Her alien flesh did not lend itself readily to this; instead it melted, making her features formless. Evidently she was holding her shape only with an effort, because of this crisis.

“I questioned Tania with an interrogator,” he said without preamble. “She is innocent of this. She wishes to seduce me and subvert me, in an effort to punish Fleta for humiliating Tan, but she has no complicity in Nepe’s disappearance. It seems that some third party whose identity we do not know is responsible. That means that Nepe is probably unhurt, but captive. The Citizens will do everything they can to recover her, because they believe that she has or will have powers we do not suspect. I came to reassure you of that.”

“Nepe is safe,” Agape said.

He paused, assessing this. “You have information of a tangible nature?” He did not want her to delude herself.
 

“Your father sent a message. It arrived just before you.
 
He—he engineered this. Or they did. Stile and Blue. Nepe got the message, and knew it was time, and she escaped.”

“Nepe did it? But she’s a little child, and the Citizens were watching, and the plane was programmed! And—“ He stared at her. “Stile? How could he—I brought no message from him!”

“Nepe and Flach—they made contact,” she said. “They were waiting for the signal. Stile sent word to Flach, and he gave it as you exchanged, and Nepe knew then. She is hiding.”

Mach’s circuits were overloaded with this seeming nonsense. “No one else has contact between the frames! Only Bane and me!”

“And the children. We never suspected. They have gone into hiding.”

“From us?’ he asked, appalled.

“From the enemy we serve. They will work with the other side. The Citizens and Adepts suspected; that is why they watched. But the children eluded them, and now no one knows where they are, except perhaps Stile and Blue, and they will not tell.”

“So they were not retarded,” he said, remembering his conversation with Stile, and Stile’s certainty. Now, also, he remembered odd things Nepe had said, indicating her knowl edge of what she was about to do. He had been caught as flat-footed as the Contrary Citizens!

“They were far, far ahead of us,” she agreed. “They planned for most of their lives. Now they are gone. I can not say I am unhappy.”

Then, despite her words, she dissolved.

Mach knew how she felt, because he realized that he had lost Flach in the same manner. He and Bane were on the wrong side, but their children were not. What was to come of this? Would the children be able to remain hidden? Would they even survive? They had kept their secret, and keot it astonishingly well, but they were only four years

He almost envied her this most tan

Flach was waiting as Neysa trotted up. He was at the castle of the Red Adept, where his father Mach had brought him for the exchange. Mach got to study the Book of Magic which the Red Adept controlled, during the time that Flach visited his Grandpa Stile. That was the deal they had made, and it had existed as long as he could remember. This was because Stile and the Adverse Adepts were enemies, and the Red Adept was with Stile, and he had the Book of Magic, so they had to trade off if they wanted to use it. Until recently it had seemed to Flach that he had the best of the deal, because he hardly cared about any dusty old book, while Grandpa Stile was wonderful to be with.

But he had come to understand that it was the other way around. The Book had spells that were even better in the other frame than here, and the Adepts over there—the Con trary Citizens—were getting very strong. Before long they would be stronger than Grandpa Stile and his friends, or rather, Nepe’s Grandpa Blue, really the same thing. So now he felt guilty about the fun he had visiting, knowing that it was costing his grandfather a lot. Maybe it was time to stop the visits.

These thoughts were fleeting, however, for Granddam Neysa moved rapidly. She was old, but still strong, and her black hide was glossy. He liked her about as well as he liked Grandpa Stile. She never talked much, but she was great for traveling in the wilderness, and he always felt safe with her.
 
Mach lifted him up to sit astride the unicorn. He needed no saddle; it was not that he was an apt rider, but that she would never let him fall. “See you later, crocogator,” Mach quipped, smiling. He always had something fun-stupid like that to say, from his memories of the other frame.
 
“In a while, allidile,” Flach responded dutifully.

Then Neysa was off, Flach clinging to her flaring mane.
 
She moved slowly at first, making sure that he was secure, but gradually picked up speed.

They bore west, heading for the Blue Demesnes, where Flach was to have a week’s visit with his grandparents on the human side. But as they passed through a section of forest, Neysa sounded her horn.

Flach had been trained in horn talk. He understood immediately. She had just told him that now was the time to act.

He did not acknowledge directly. He knew that they were being watched; they were always watched. He merely squeezed his knees to her sides, acknowledging. Then, as they emerged to an open region, he spoke. “Granddam Neysa, I have to pee. Can we stop?”

The unicorn slowed and halted. Flach slid off her back.
 
She assumed human form. “Why didn’t you see to that be fore we started?” she asked, with timeless annoyance.
 

“Didn’t have to go, then,” he said, walking to a head-high patch of bushes.

She returned to equine form and made a snort of resignation. She took the opportunity to graze the lush grass here, keeping an eye out for any danger.

Flach wedged his way into the bush, reached for his trousers, looked back, and sang a spot spell:

Privacy

While I pee

The air clouded around him, so that his body was hidden.
 
In the privacy of that cloud he did open his trousers and urinate. But he also used his free hand to work something out of the lining of his trousers, and set it in his jacket pocket where he could readily put his hand on it. It was a figure like a doll that looked just like him, complete to the outfit he normally wore for traveling: blue jacket, blue trousers, and blue socks and shoes.

His tasks completed, he stepped out of the bushes, and the fog surrounding him dissipated. He returned to Neysa. She walked to a nearby log, so that he could climb up on it and mount her from that height. Then they resumed their journey.
 
There was nothing to indicate that a significant action had been started.

Grandpa Stile had coached him carefully on this. Anything he wished known he could do openly, and anything he wished to keep secret he had to cover in some way. So he had brought out the amulet doll under cover of the privacy spell, and he communed with Nepe only when Mach and Bane were communing across the frames, and he did secret magic only when some similar magic was being done in the region. That way, Stile had explained, the traces were covered. His best protection was secrecy, so that no one suspected what he could do.
 
It had been a game, and fun; now it was serious.
 
He was about to go into hiding. Stile had told him how, and Neysa would help him, but he had to go where neither of them knew, and remain hidden until he was big and strong and talented enough to survive alone. He knew that would be a long time, so he concentrated on doing the best job of hiding he possibly could.

“Granddam,” he said after a suitable interval had elapsed, so that there would seem to be no connection with her note of information or his pause for nature. “I’m bored with this same old route. Can we go by the wolves and ‘corns?” Neysa blew a note of caution.

“Oh, I don’t mean to stay long, just to pass by and say hi.” He smiled, because his rhyme caused a little atmospheric effect; it thought he was doing magic. “It won’t take long, honest, and besides, you can see your friends too. I’ve never met the Pack you know so well.”

Neysa made a derisive trill on her harmonica horn, knowing he was wheedling, but she turned south. The truth was he could wheedle much from her, for he was-of her flesh.
 
She had never forgiven his dam Fleta for mating with the golem Mach, but she loved Flach, and the affection she could not show her filly she showed him instead. However, that was merely the pretext; right now she would do his bidding no matter what it was, because she was helping him hide.
 
He could have assumed unicorn form and run with her, but unicorns matured no faster than human folk did, and he would never have been able to keep her pace. So he remained in human form and let her carry him and protect him, and it was good. Under Stile’s guidance he had mastered two more forms, but concealed them; this would be the first time he used either out in the open. That made him nervous, but he quelled it as well as he could, because he knew that if he messed up, there would be more trouble than he could imag ine, for him and Grandpa Stile and all the Adepts who sided with him.

Abruptly he felt the contact of Mach and Bane across the frames. They were orienting on each other, so as to overlap in space, so that they could exchange. They usually conversed for a time first, setting things straight between them.
 
Flach knew what to do.

Nepe! he called in thought.
 
After a moment she responded. I hear you, Flach. I was specting you, ‘cause they ‘re transfring.
 

It be time to hide! he thought. Be thou ready?

Better be! she responded. Then: Oh, Flach, I’m afraid!

Me too! But Neysa told me, and needs must we do it.
 
We ‘ve got to do it, she agreed. Now he felt the fear in her, washing across the contact between the frames.
 
Needs must be we brave, he thought.

Do you have some bravry for me?

He had to smile, though he was taut with the reality of what they were about to do. Here be some o’ mine, Nepe!
 
And he sent her a wash of emotion, as positive as he could manage.

Oh, thank you, brother self! she thought back. It really seemed to have helped.

He could tell by the feel that their fathers were about to break off communication and make their exchange of identities. Till -we mind again, sister self! he thought.