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PIERS ANTHONY

Juxtaposition

Map of Phase

1. Clef (F)

"I could give you some sleepfog," the lady robot said. "You stayed awake all night researching, and the Game is this afternoon. You have to rest. "

"No drugs!" Stile snapped. "Better to be keyed up than fogged out. "

"Better yet to be rational," she said.

He shook his head, looking at her. She was so exactly like a woman that most people never realized the truth. Not only could she function in all the ways of a living human female, she was extremely well formed. Her hair was a sun-bleached brown, shoulder length; her lips were full and slightly tinted, kissable; her eyes were green behind long lashes. She was the sort of creature rich, lonely men obtained to gratify their private passions more per fectly than any real woman would. But Stile knew her for what she was, and had no passion for her. "This is one time I wish I could just click off the way you can. "

"I wish I were flesh," she said wistfully. She was programmed to love him and protect him and she was absolutely true to her program, as a machine had to be. "Come on-I'll put you to sleep. " She took Stile's head in her lap and stroked his hair and hummed a lullaby.

Oddly enough, it worked. Her body was warm and soft, her touch gentle, and he had complete faith in her motive. Stile was dose to few people and he tended to feel easier around machines.

He found himself dreaming of the time several days before, when he had passed the Platinum Flute on to the musician Clef and guided the man across the curtain. In this dream he followed Clef's consciousness, not his own.

Somehow this did not seem strange. Stile had felt an instant and deep camaraderie with the man when they played music together. Stile himself was highly skilled with a number of instruments, but Clef's musical ability amounted to genius. It had been impossible to remain aloof from a person who played that well.

Clef had never been to the frame of Phaze. He stared at the lush tufts of grass, the tremendous oaks and pines, and the unicorn awaiting them, as if he were seeing something strange.

"This is Neysa," Stile informed him, perceived in the dream as a different person. The unicorn was black, with white socks on the rear feet, and was as small for her species as Stile was for his. Clef towered over them both, and felt awkward. "She will carry thee to the Platinum Demesnes. "

What affectation was this? Stile had spoken normally until this moment. "I don't even know how to ride!" Clef protested. "And that's a mythical creature!" He eyed the long spiraled horn, wishing he could touch it to verify that it was only tacked on to the horse. He had been told that this was a land of magic, but he found that hard to credit.

"Well, I could conjure thee there, but - "

"Absolutely not! Magic is - incredible. Wherever I have to go, I'll walk. "