Chapter 18: Triangle

He found himself back in Monster host. It was a shock, no easier to accept the second time. This body revolted him!

Revolted him? It was his own, natural host! He was a man, not a Band!

How could he be revolted by his own body?

Because, he realized, he now identified utterly with the Band host. He had been corrupted by the Band form and the Band culture. It seemed the more time he spent in Band host, the stronger the effect was.

Was it something physical? It couldn't be, because all that traveled was his aura. So it had to be something mental or emotional.

That was it. He had seen Heaven. In comparison the human state was Hell, his own trafficking in it hellish. He wished he could simply cut away and slough off the Monster attributes of his personality. He was telling the big lie to save the Bands, a thing they could and would not do to save themselves.

It might be the only way, but it was also his shame. How could one of Satan's minions join the company of Heaven, however much he might want to?

I will never see the Viscous Circle, he thought, and grief welled up in him. So corrupt was he, he couldn't even believe it existed.

When the computer interviewed him, he gave the lie. Using mental and emotional devices he was trained for, he almost convinced himself it was the truth, so that the computer could not detect the falsity of it. Computers thought they were infallible; it was a machine illusion. They were fashioned by Monsters, with Monster flaws, and in any event the human will remained more complex than the machine programming. Any Monster with his experience and motive could deceive the essentially naïve computer.

Yet not entirely. "There is an element missing here," the machine said.

Rondl suppressed a reaction of fear, knowing that could give him away faster than any words might. He converted it to righteous ire at the challenge. "You can verify my report against that of the other Transfer agent," he pointed out, contemplating his bone-filled extremities with his paired liquid-inflated eye orbs. There was so much to dislike about this body!

"Hers also has a missing element."

This was falling into place almost too neatly. "Perhaps the two of us should consult again."

"That seems inadvisable at this stage."

Did the authorities suspect? He would have to let it go, at least for now. "As you wish. It's your show now." But he hoped to be back in Band host before the occupation of the supposed Site proceeded. Monster hell would become indeed hellish once his lie became known. Court-martial would be just the beginning. And he had business in the Band region. Without his further input, the Bands would still be wiped out.

They let him go home. He might be under suspicion, but he had delivered the goods, and they had no tangible evidence against him. They could not interfere without obvious cause; other agents would grow wary if normal practice started getting set aside. Some oddities were to be expected in returning agents, after all.

He wended his way along the free-fall passage, no longer thrilled by the weightlessness. The foreboding was growing: he had betrayed his kind, and lost his Band wife too. The Solarian authorities surely ought to know, unless they were totally out of touch. His future was fast becoming a dead end. Betrayal of one's species was a baleful matter, for internal as well as legal reasons.

Helen was waiting for him. She was garbed in a most fetching cling cloth outfit, her hair puffed out artfully by static electricity, her eyes brightened by luminescent eyedrops. Disgusting artifices.

She realized at once that they were not working. "Your Ringer femme is that important now?"

She knew such terminology grated against his sensitivities; why did she employ it? "My Band wife is dead. I am careening toward a blank wall."

Helen was not stupid. "Then I'd better take you out for a spin in space.

Few walls there."

What was she up to? Ronald had no stomach for connivings. In fact, he wished he had no literal stomach, for that was an especially disgusting aspect of Monsterdom. "I think our plans need revision."

"Oh come on! A spin will do you good. Get that post-Transfer depression out of your system." She bullied him out of the yard and along the road to a nether exit. They stepped on the platform, and it slid down and along under their weight, carrying them to the very rim of the barrel that was the residential section. Here the private spacecraft were suspended like lifeboats

-- which is what they would be if the Station ever suffered serious breakdown.

Every resident family was required to maintain its craft in spaceworthy condition, and to use it often enough to keep personal piloting skills sharp.

It was also military policy to keep a certain percentage of the ships in space at all times, so that in the event of attack, some of the Solarians here would survive. This percentage varied according to the high command's estimate of the interstellar situation; usually it was low enough so that voluntary excursions filled it. At present it was elevated, because of the System Band

"action." Officially there was no war, but the Station was on a war alert.

Ronald, as a participant on leave, was not required to put his craft into space, but could if he chose to. That would relieve one conscript of the obligation.

There was no problem about departure clearance; Helen was efficient about such details.

They buckled in and snapped the craft loose from its mooring. It dropped into the exit chute as its engine took hold, spiraling out smoothly into space. The auto-pilot took care of this portion; maneuvering in-Station was too important to be left in the uncertain hands of the operator. Ronald was content to watch the bell of the chute expand like some gross musical instrument, until the ship shot out over the ragged, rocky terrain of the planetoid. Now it was as if they were a light-year from civilization, out in the wilds-beyond-the-wilds.

Then the forest of antennae and vent snouts and scope optics came around the close horizon, and brutal civilization was back. A planetoid did not sport much surface.

If aliens were to bomb this Station, how would the Monsters react? Like hornets emerging from a shaken nest. There was a lot of hostility and aggressive force packed into this planetoid, as there was in any military base or trading enclave. Monsters of any Sphere always had their weapons with them.

Then out on the tangent into suddenly deep space, the sun Sirius blazing. But it wasn't like being in Band host, flying free on the lines in the light of twin suns. Ronald felt enclosed, limited and stifled. "All we need is to get drunk on enzyme," he muttered.

"Drunk in space?" Helen asked. "Not while I'm along."

"Not us. It happened in System Band."

"Bands get drunk?"

"Not exactly. This was a Solarian Space Admiral, with fizz in his britches and a food-flinging war in his cabin. You should have seen the lieutenant who got sauced spaghetti down into her blouse."

After setting a destination, Helen left the controls on auto and turned to him. "Now what is this? You were going to save the Bands, and the news is you're not doing it. Something's up, and I think I have a right to know."

"I suppose you do." He knew she had gotten him out here so that they could not be overheard. The ship radio kept in touch with the Station, but did not pick up the pilot's conversation for broadcast unless activated for that.

There was no sense in wasting power that might be needed for propulsion.

Helen was in some respects a problematical woman, but she would not betray him. "I loved Cirl, my Band wife, and wanted to stay with her. I fought hard to balk the Monsters' invasion, using semipacifistic means, because the Bands really can't be violent. We tried to take over a command ship by getting the crew drunk on oxy-enzyme, but we didn't quite make it. So I'm trying to save the Bands now by using a lie. But when a group of Bands understood this, they disbanded -- all that knew the notion -- and Cirl went with them."

"Oh, I'm sorry! She had such a good effect on you," Helen said, and he knew she meant it. Helen felt sympathy for all lesser creatures, and she regarded the Bands as being in that category. She had told him she was not concerned about Cirl as a rival, and she would not have said that insincerely.

"I'm still working on the lie," he continued. "It's an abomination, and I never want to lie again after this is over, however it ends, but I have to carry it through now. I told it to Tangt -- Tanya, the other surviving Transfer agent. She believes it -- I think -- though she's trying to help the Bands, too. I just couldn't risk her way -- "

"Her way?"

"She wants to give the Monsters the Ancient Site outright, hoping they will then leave the Bands alone. But I don't trust that."

"I should think not! Remember Pizarro and the Incas." She grimaced. "The Indians gave him a tremendous ransom in gold -- but he destroyed them anyway.

Time and again, those who trusted to the mercy of conquerors have regretted it."

"But now I have committed overt treason against my species. When they find out -- I'm finished here, Helen. I've got to get back into Band host; at least I'll die happy there. I'm sorry to mess up your plans, but that's the way it is."

She considered soberly. She seemed less like a Monster now; it seemed that her agreement with his views rendered her more attractive physically.

What a tremendous difference the subjective element made! "I suppose I did wait too long. But I haven't lost you yet. It's the very thing that makes you a traitor that also makes you worthwhile as a man, ironically. Our kind just happens to be wrong this time. Now you understand about my causes. It is not treason to try to correct the abuses that come from an erroneous philosophy, it is patriotism. History will in due course correct the record. Meanwhile we must seek to help and protect the lesser species."

"There are no lesser species," Ronald said curtly.

"Exactly. Only species with power, and species with less power. Might does not necessarily make right."

"Yet it was my association with Cirl that showed me this, not my life with you."

"She must have had something I don't." Helen shrugged. "Maybe I am after all a Monster, necessarily imperfect, as are we all in this System. I suppose any of us would be corrupted by Heaven if we actually visited there. Anyone would fall in love with a genuine angel."

"You are most understanding." But he remained cold.

"The same thing happened to Tanya Coombs?"

"The same. She loved a Band male, and when she told him her real nature, he disbanded."

"So it probably would have happened to me, had I been there. I wish I had been."

"You could put in for Transfer."

"No, I have business here." She turned to face him squarely. "Ron, I'll make a deal with you. I'll help you get back to Band host for another tour, and I'll help you beat the treason rap when you come back. In return, you're mine thereafter."

"That's very generous, Helen. But I don't think I love you anymore."

"Well, after things settle down -- "

"I doubt I'll ever return to being the man you knew before. I am no longer one of your causes. I have achieved my final orientation. You'd do better to give me up."

"When I've just found you? Not likely! I can live without your love, just as you lived without mine. You aren't going to be loving any Solarian for some time, I think, but you can do a lot of good for me in the interim. And maybe in time you'll come to love me again. We have a much better base to build on now. I understand you better than any other Monster does."

"Except perhaps for Tangt. She's been through the same change I have.

She has trafficked with the angels, too."

"The other agent? Interesting conversion of names. Just how close were you two, over there?"

"She tried to seduce me."

"She must have wanted something from you. Oh, not that you're unattractive; it's just that she's a calculating military female. I know the type. I looked up her record while you were gone. She isn't much moved by love."So Ronald had concluded on his own. Tangt had surely cared for her Band husband, but had reverted to her normal mode of cynical manipulation the moment he was gone. "One calculating female taking the measure of another?"

"Your grasp of the essentials is improving. But what would she want? I thought you were deceiving her."

"Yes. She may be suspicious, though. The computer is, I'm pretty sure, but because her story corroborates mine, the machine can't come to a conclusion yet."

"That would do it. If you loved her, you wouldn't lie to her. Or at least you would be less likely to. Love is overrated as a device to promote truth, but she might consider it worthwhile to increase the auspices. To protect herself. If you're a traitor, she's a traitor, too, right now. She has no intention of being dragged down by your male foolishness."

"That thought had passed my mind. Few women offer love for the sake of love."She laughed. "Don't try to bait me! If men ever insisted that love have something to do with love, they would be much harder to deceive."

"She was foolish herself," Rondl said. "Instead of verifying my information, she stayed to mourn her lost Band love."

"That must be some society! So she really has been converted too?"

"It is some society. It's everything ours is not. You try to protect alien cultures, but you have not actually experienced them. You're objective about them, and therefore you miss the essence. It's like trying to define the concept of love itself objectively. You'll never get there. Tangt -- you're right about that, there is a conversion in Transfer of names -- really does want to save the Bands, her way."

"Or so she tells you. She could be trying to learn your plan so she can spike it."

"She could have turned me in anyway, without any trouble. Why would she support my story if she's not with me?"

"Why shouldn't she? The authorities want the Ancient Site. She wants to give it to them. She has no conflict -- and her apparent agreement with you keeps you from trying to put her out of the picture."

It was a revelation. "Of course! She let me do the dangerous work, keeping herself safe, in 'mourning.' But why didn't she check my information?"

"How do you know she didn't?"

"But she substantiated my report!"

"Openly, yes. What did she say in secret?"

Ronald was stricken. "My God! I've been a fool!"

"Men are, especially with women. Most particularly with women who look like her."

"I spent so much time wondering whether to let her seduce me, I never realized that that was what she wanted me to do. To wonder. To be distracted by her, instead of figuring things out logically." He sighed. "You're right.

I've been outfoxed by a woman. But why haven't they arrested me?"

"They're waiting until they've gleaned all they can from you. You're a highly capable agent, and much of what you have done and thought, you haven't told anyone. You could be working some sort of double-double cross, feeding them true information in the guise of a lie, so that they will penetrate the

'lie' and be truly deceived. You were the one who conquered the telepathic dog, way back when, remember; you know how to deal with people and machines who can read your mind, or who think they can. Even if they have fathomed the right information, based on what Tanya has given them, there could be wrinkles. They don't know yet who your accomplices may be. They don't know whether I'm in on it, and if so, on what basis -- or whether you have connections elsewhere in the System. They can arrest you any time; there's nothing to be gained by rushing it. You don't get rid of a weed by yanking off the part that shows; you ease it out root and all. The same with the cancer of ideological treason. The longer they give you, the more you may show them. You should know that."

"I do know that," Ronald agreed, disgusted with himself. "I allowed myself to forget. As a Band I think a lot like a Monster; as a Monster, I think a lot like a Band."

"On the other hand, this could be a simple, routine snafu, a miscoordination between machines and departments. Never underestimate the idiocy of the bureaucracy! History is rife with examples of gross errors based on stupidly simple failures of communication."

"There is that," Ronald agreed wanly. "Shall we call my chances fifty-fifty?"

"It means there is hope for you. You should know how to thread through this mess, maximizing your chances whichever turns out to be the case. It's your area of expertise."

"By playing them along while they're playing me along. Sure. All I need is to get back into Band host, take out Tangt -- " He shook his head. "Helen, the trap I've set for the Monsters, if it works -- and the chance now seems miserably slight -- will guarantee they won't let me off, ever. I'll never be able to return to human form. I can't make that bargain with you."

"Well, at least you're doing what I can't do: saving the Bands. That's half of it. And if things do happen to work out, on the off-chance we've misjudged Tanya and she hasn't turned you in -- and that is possible, since the motives of women are complex -- "

"You're indulging in foolish hope yourself, Helen. They'll still know me for a traitor, once that trap springs. I'll be better off dying in Band host."

"Not necessarily. They might arrest you, throw the book at you -- but meanwhile the word will spread exactly what they have been doing in System Band. Those creatures are sapient, and they're organized in their fashion; it just doesn't happen to be an authoritarian organization. They may be classed as a common-law Sphere despite their seeming lack of qualification. If the Sphere Sol authorities not only invade and destroy that Sphere, but also prosecute the person who tried to prevent them from committing this crime, there could be a stink of Galactic proportion. It could become a cause of more than incidental scope."

"And you know how to promote a cause," Rondl said, smiling somewhat grimly.

"I do know how. You just might come out of this looking like a hero."

"Or a martyr."

"They may not care to take the risk. Appearance is often more important than substance. They might buy you off with an advantageous assignment and a promotion -- "

"Or might arrange to have me 'accidentally' liquidated, so that I'd be no embarrassment to them at all."

"There is that. Monsters are Monsters. So we'll fight to save you, but in case we fail, there are two things you can do, and I'll be satisfied. Not happy, you understand -- I like you a lot better now that it may be too late, and I'd love to keep you another term -- maybe I should say I'd keep you to love you -- but satisfied that I've got as much of you as you can give."

"I don't understand. What two things?"

"Second, you're going to have to seduce Tanya."

"What?"

"In Monster form. To ensure she believes she has you secured. If she is in doubt -- if she hasn't made her private report yet -- this will lull her until you get her into Band host. You've got to seem to be overwhelmed by her charms. That should not be too much of an effort."

"I can't believe my wife is saying this! Sending me to another woman, setting up a triangle -- "

"I love you, Ronald. I want to save you. I want to inherit your loyalty if you survive this. I'm the truest friend you've got among the Monsters. We don't have time or occasion for narrow jealousies."

"That must be true," he agreed, dazed. "I wish I'd understood you better, years ago."

"Crisis brings things out. You never know how strong a tree is until it survives a hurricane."

"That's the way I felt when I faced Cerberus, before I married you. I was a small tree, a sapling, bent almost to the ground by the force of that monster's mind -- its three minds -- by the terrible fear it projected. But then I began to strengthen, to rebound. I hadn't known I had that reserve until it manifested."

"I knew you had it. But you never showed it, when you were not in crisis. Now you face a crisis of a different kind, and that strength of character is manifesting again. It confirms my decision."

Her decision to marry him? "You told the second thing I can do, which still amazes me. What was the first?"

She played with the control panel, resetting the course. The ship commenced a curving acceleration. "We are now on our way to Tanya Coombs's Station. It will take a while. So there's time."

"Time?"

"For you to seduce me."

"I'm not sure -- "

"I want your baby, Ronald. If you're dead, I'll still have it, if I get it now. And I can get it now."

"The neutralizes -- "

"You've been off the sterilizer for the duration of your mission. I'll bet you're fertile now. And I started taking null-contraceptives last week.

And a conception aligner, tuned for today. I'm ready right now. Chances are two to one it will take."

Ronald had to laugh. "You certainly plan ahead!"

"I certainly do -- when I have reason. I've been waiting four years for this alignment, and I don't propose to miss it. Now let's not waste time. This hour may be all we have."

"Let me see if I have this quite straight. You want me to seduce you now, and Tanya an hour from now -- if 'seduction' is not a misnomer in both cases. Did it occur to you there might be certain practical difficulties?"

"Practical difficulties?" she inquired with mock innocence. "I really can't think of any. I'm sure you'll rise to the occasion. She's one pretty woman, and there's always the thrill of new conquest."

"Within one hour? When she's a Monster? I'll hardly get the fun of it that might otherwise -- "

"Yes, you may not enjoy it at all," she agreed smugly. "But it's a necessary chore."

How neatly she had planned it! She had disposed her cards so that she obtained maximum advantage from a very difficult situation. She would have made an excellent Transfer agent. And she was doing it all to salvage as much as she could -- of him.

Suddenly Ronald found himself flaming with passion for her. It wasn't love; love was what he felt for Cirl, pointless as that was now. But it wasn't merely sex, either; sex was what he would use against Tanya, reversing her own ploy. It was fascination. The emotion that could, when conditions were right, convert into love. Fascination was a house built on sand. If he survived this mission, that sand might very well stabilize into rock and he would love her again. Helen was a lot more woman than he had realized. But right now --

In moments they had the seats converted to full recline. She turned to him, and her liquid and bone-filled aspects became, subjectively, attractive, and it began.