Sprockets

by Alexander Key

  “That is too much to hope for,” Leli answered. “They are the most purplishly rare gems in the universe.”

  Ilium and Leli went half floating, half running, like two glowing bubbles, around the shore of the lake. Soon they vanished in the darkness of one of the castles. The doctor and Don José chose another crumbling structure, and presently they, too, were lost to sight.

  Jim looked doubtfully at a third castle, rising tall and gaunt beside the quicksilver lake. It had many dark openings and a flight of ruined steps that wound dizzily up one side.

  “What do you think, Sprockets?” he radioed.

  “It looks dismally dark,” Sprockets replied.

  “It sure does. Dreadfully, dismally dark,” Jim agreed.

  “It’s probably full of Moon dust,” said Sprockets. “And things.”

  “Well, we really could save it till the last.”

  “That might be wise,” said Sprockets. “After all, there’s lots more space outside to hunt in than inside.”

  “So there is,” answered Jim. “Let’s start walking in circles, around and around, and look in all the little holes.”

  So they began moving around and around, poking their climbing sticks into every crack and crevice where a stray quantic moonstone might have been dropped by whoever had dropped it a million years ago. Every minute, regularly, Sprockets would sing out to Ilium and Leli, and then report to the doctor: “All is well, sir, and no one has found anything yet.”

  Walking in his force globe was surprisingly easy, for it changed shape to fit every movement, and gave an extra bounce to his feet. Since he weighed so little on the Moon, he discovered it was no trick at all to leap a dozen feet upward to explore a ledge or the top of a crumbling wall. Quantic moonstones, he was beginning to realize, were not at all easy to find.

  Their circling carried them closer and closer to the gaunt castle with the ruined stairway. Finally they stood directly in front of the largest opening, which was much smaller than the doors of dwellings at home. Far back in the darkness beyond it something gleamed faintly.

  “D’you suppose that’s a quantic moonstone?” Jim whispered.

  “It’s sort of green,” said Sprockets, “so I doubt it. Ilium says quantic moonstones are purple.”

  “It looks sort of purplish to me,” Jim said. “Do you think we ought to investigate it?”

  “That’s up to you,” said Sprockets. “Somehow I don’t feel curious about it at all.”

  “Well, whatever it is, it might make a nice present for Mom.” Jim moved closer to the opening and peered inside. “Er—I’m willing to go in if you are.”

  “I—I’m always willing,” Sprockets answered faintly, and wished he hadn’t been made that way. Having a built-in willingness could be very trying at times, and this was definitely one of the times. He didn’t have to touch his instinct button to know that the door in front of him was a very bad door to enter, and that it would be much better to stay out of it.

  Before Sprockets could think of a good excuse not to enter, Jim had stepped hesitantly inside. Sprockets was almost forced to follow.

  Suddenly Jim exclaimed: “It must be a quantic moonstone! Look how it shines!” And he went bouncing over the rubble on the floor to get it.

  Sprockets was certain by now that it wasn’t what Jim thought it was, and at the same moment he realized what a foolish little robot he had been. He knew exactly how to find what they were all looking for, and he would have been able to find it for them by this time if only he had used his positronic wits.

  My circuits must be affected by the Moon, he told himself, by way of an excuse. Otherwise I surely would have thought of it before.

  He saw Jim pick up the shiny green stone, stand looking at it a moment, then glance overhead, startled.

  “Y—ee—ee—ow!” Jim shrieked. “Run, Sprockets! Run! Moon bats!”

  Sprockets didn’t have a chance to run, for Jim, in his sudden fright, had collided with him and they both fell sprawling. He scrambled quickly to his feet, managed to turn on his cerebration button, and tried mightily to think away the dozens of black flapping shadow things that all at once were filling the lower part of the castle.

  His positronic thinking didn’t seem to help a bit, even with his cerebration button turned on to the last notch.

  All his cerebration button did for him was bring them more quickly to a perfectly awful conclusion.

  He attracted Moon bats!

  There was no doubt about it. He attracted them, and the reason was his atomic battery. They were coming in through all the openings in the place, flapping their great transparent wings, and crowding closer about him, crowding hungrily.

  They looked very much like Earth bats, except that they were big, big, big, and he could see right through them because they were made of nonmatter.

  “Go away!” he screamed at them in his high, tinny little voice. “Go away! Run, Jim! Run!”

  He couldn’t tell what Jim was doing because there were so many bats, suddenly, that they made a swirling black mass of shadows about him, and he could actually begin to feel them draining his battery like nonmatter vampires. The thought of Jim frightened him. Maybe one Moon bat couldn’t hurt a human being—but dozens and dozens of them might be very dangerous to Jim.

  To protect Jim, there was only one thing to do.

  As quick as a wink, before he had time even to give a tock at the thought of what he was doing, he felt behind him and opened his switch box.

  CLICK!

  Sprockets had turned himself off.

  Almost at the same moment he was aware that the edge of the floor beside him was crumbling. There had once been a flight of stairs leading downward here, but for a million years the stairs had been turning to dust. Now, as he fell, helpless, there was nothing to stop him and he continued to fall down, down, down.

  His force globe, which was still turned on, helped cushion his fall a little when he bounced past piles of rubble and scraped over broken steps. Even so, in spite of the fact that his Moon weight was only one sixth his normal weight, he would have been smashed to an unrecognizable clutter of cogs, sprockets, wires, and circuits if he had landed upon anything solid.

  Instead, the bottom of the black dungeon-like pit into which he fell was yards deep in Moon dust, and he settled into it as softly as if he had popped into a black feather bed.

  If his force globe hadn’t been working, the fine Moon dust would have gotten into his joints and seeped right into his circuits, so that soon he would have smothered. All the same, he wondered if smothering wouldn’t have been better than to lie here helpless through all eternity.

  Anyway, Jim was safe, and the Moon bats were gone. He knew this because his positronic radio was still working, and he could faintly hear Jim calling him and then calling the doctor.

  A lot of good it did. He couldn’t reply to Jim and tell where he was, and there was no possible way Jim could find him, lost down here in a Moon dungeon in a smother of dust.

  To practice passing the time—and there would be time uncounted ahead of him to pass—he tried counting a few million numbers. It didn’t help a bit. He counted much too fast. For some reason, he didn’t feel a bit as he usually felt when he was turned off. In fact, he felt rather giddy.

  He felt so giddy he made up a jingle—just to feel it tingle—through his positronic circuits.

  Moon bats, Moon bats,

  Flapping everywhere;

  Why do they flap

  When there isn’t any air?

  How silly, he thought. Being nonmatter, they flap on the magnetic waves, of course.

  He tried another rhyme, trying to make it better than the first, which was really rather dreadful.

  Moon bats, Moon bats,

  How many have I seen?

  Ten, ten, double ten,

  Forty-five, fifteen.

  Oh, dear me, he thought. I’ll never be a Shelley or a Longfellow. And anyhow, there were twice that many bats. He was trying to t
hink of something else to tingle his circuits when he heard a little singing cry on his radio. It was so startling that it almost made him move. In fact, it did make him move the merest trifle, though he didn’t realize it immediately.

  “Oh, Sprockets, help!” came Leli’s cry. “Help! Help! Ilium is hurt! I’m afraid he’s dying!”

  “I hear you,” he tried to answer, though he knew it was impossible to say a word. He could only hear, and faintly at that.

  What could he do?

  He had to do something.

  Then he remembered that his cerebration button was still on full, and that he had moved the merest trifle when he heard Leli’s call.

  Maybe he could turn himself on. With his battery off, he would have to manage it with his brain alone.

  He put all he had into thinking his hand around to his switch. Again he heard Leli crying for help. It gave such a desperate surge to his thoughts that his little hand began inching behind him. It stopped, and he was powerless for a moment as he almost blanked out. Then Leli cried once more and there was such fear and grief in the cry that his hand moved again and touched his switch.

  CLICK!

  Sprockets had turned himself on.

  It was something that no robot had ever done before. For a moment he blanked out completely from the terrible effort of it, but his battery took over and he sat up in the dust calling: “I hear you, Leli! Have courage. I am sending help immediately.”

  10

  He Uses His Buttons

  The first thing was to call the doctor.

  “Dr. Bailey! Dr. Bailey! Sprockets calling! Emergency!”

  “I hear you, Sprockets,” came the doctor’s voice. “Where are you? Jim said you vanished in a cloud of Moon bats. Are you all right?”

  “Forget about me, sir. Ilium is badly hurt. Leli needs help immediately.”

  “Heaven preserve us! Where are they?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I hoped you did, for you went in their direction. I’ve had an accident and been out of contact. I’ll try to locate them. Leli,” he sang, “Leli—how can we find you?”

  “Oh, Sprockets, I’m not sure,” she answered tremulously. “I was following Ilium and not watching how we got here. I think we passed two lakes after we left you, and many castles. Twelve at least.”

  “Can you see the saucer from where you are?”

  “No. The cave curves and hides it. Oh, Sprockets”—her voice broke—“we’ve got to do something fast!”

  “Can you carry Ilium?”

  “Not any farther. I’ve been carrying him, but it’s impossible to go on. There are high walls in the way. And I cannot leave him. You see, his force globe is defective. It went off when he was climbing, so of course he fell. In this dreadful cold, and without air, it takes only seconds—I—I got to him as quickly as I could and fastened my force globe around the two of us, but—”

  “Leli, can you call the saucer to you?”

  “No. I cannot control it unless I can see it and direct it.”

  “Oh.” Sprockets was silent a moment, thinking at top positronic speed while he considered every possibility.

  “Leli,” he spoke again, “have courage and be patient. I promise you everything will be all right, but it will take a little time.”

  It would have been very easy if she could have directed the saucer to her, for then the doctor could have followed where it led and helped the two aboard.

  “Dr. Bailey,” he called, “Leli is not sure of her location. She passed two lakes and at least twelve castles. I suggest, sir, that you and Don José start in that general direction, and I will follow as soon as possible. Jim, are you near?”

  Jim’s voice said: “I’m outside the place where I lost you. Where are you, Sprockets?”

  Sprockets told him, then asked, “Have you a rope?”

  “No, and neither has Daddy. We forgot and left all our ropes aboard the saucer.”

  Sprockets gave a little tock. He’d been counting on someone having a rope. Why hadn’t he been more watchful and looked after the ropes? “Oh, dear me,” he said, “this does complicate matters. What I need is a levitation button.”

  But he did have a balance button, which would help him climb where no human would ever dare set foot.

  “Jim,” he said, “I’m going to attempt to climb out of the pit. I want you to stand in the doorway and think away the Moon bats when they appear. They are attracted by my atomic battery, and they drain my power.”

  “I’ll think ’em away,” Jim said fiercely. “I’ll think ’em clear around to the other side of the Moon if I have to. Start climbing, Sprockets! We’re all counting on you.”

  Sprockets began floundering through the dust. It was a little like being a bug in the bottom of a flour barrel. He soon discovered he could make much better progress by trying to swim through it, which he did. Finally he touched the side of the pit, dug his strong little fingers into a crack, and began clawing his way upward.

  When his head emerged above the dust, he stopped, turned on his balance button, and blinked his eye lights thoughtfully around.

  What he saw was not at all reassuring. The pit stretched at least fifty feet upward, and hardly any of the stairway was left. His fall must have crumbled most of what remained. Worst of all, the pit narrowed at the top.

  “I’ll worry about that when I get there,” he told himself, and began climbing, thankful that he didn’t have a worry button to complicate matters.

  If he had been made of human stuff, with ordinary soft fingers and fingernails, he would have worn his fingers right down to little nubbins in practically no time. As it was, there were places where even his strong metal fingertips could find no grip on the wall. The wall was obviously of a different substance than the vanished stairway—probably it had been chiseled out of the hard Moon rock.

  He solved this problem by taking his screwdriver from the tool kit in his pocket, and using it to dig out tiny holes just large enough to insert the tip of a finger.

  Then, hanging by a finger at a time, he would reach as high as his short arms would stretch and dig another hole where he could cling with another finger. Boiled down, it was all a matter of positronic balance, positronic juggling with the screwdriver, positronic hope, and all the positronic thinking he could pour into it.

  He was halfway up the wall, clinging like a fly, when the first great dark shadow swooped down upon him.

  Sprockets paid no attention to it. He couldn’t afford to notice it, but he could almost hear Jim thinking it away.

  The shadow vanished. Other shadows came, and most of them vanished too. But finally there were so many shadows that Jim could not deal with them all.

  By now, however, Sprockets had reached the curve in the wall.

  “Jim,” he asked, “is my climbing stick up there on the floor?”

  “Yes,” said Jim, “it’s right where you dropped it when the bats first came.”

  “Then hook my stick to your stick, and let it down toward me. Don’t try to pull me up. Just lie down on the floor and hold tight, and I’ll climb up the sticks.”

  Each climbing stick had a strong hook at the end. Presently Sprockets saw the handle of one stick dangling above him.

  “Ready?” he called.

  “Climb away!” said Jim.

  A few seconds later Sprockets hauled himself out of the pit. With him came a circling cloud of Moon bats.

  They raced outside, followed by the bats.

  Sprockets cried: “My battery attracts them! I’ll have to turn myself off till you think them away!”

  CLICK!

  He was turned off again, and thankfully so, for he had used up so much energy and positronic brain power escaping from the pit that he was almost ready to blank out, and he simply couldn’t stand those vampirish bats nibbling at him.

  Then, faintly, he heard Leli’s frantic voice calling: “Oh, Sprockets! Please hurry! Please!”

  Her voice jolted his circuits. It was suddenly terrible
to have to stand there, motionless and helpless, while Jim furiously thought the bats away. But finally the bats vanished, and Jim turned him on.

  Sprockets began to run.

  “I’m coming, Leli!” he said. “Keep calling. It will guide me to you.” To Jim he said, “I’m going to Leli—follow me and think the Moon bats away if they return.”

  His little feet flew over the dusty rock of the Moon cave. Jim followed, close at his heels. They jumped cracks, bounced over walls, and raced along the shores of the frozen lakes. With Leli calling, it was a simple matter for Sprockets to determine her direction and go directly to her. He saw no Moon bats—probably because Jim thought them away—nor did he see the doctor, though he could hear him talking worriedly somewhere with Don José.

  He found Leli crouched under a crumbling wall, clinging tightly to Ilium so that her force globe would cover them both.

  Sprockets stooped, caught them up together in his small arms, leaped over the wall, and raced back the way he had come. As he ran he called the doctor to return. He was surprised how little Ilium and Leli weighed, even here on the Moon. He could have carried ten times as much.

  When they sighted the saucer in the distance, Leli directed it to them. They reached it at the same time as Don José and the doctor.

  Within the saucer, Sprockets placed Ilium on one of the bunks. Leli sank down beside Ilium, her tiny hands clasped. The doctor and Don José hovered near, helpless and dejected.

  Sprockets said, “Isn’t there anything we can do, Leli?”

  “No,” she said sadly, “it is too late. See how dim he is? Soon his inner glow will be gone.”

  Suddenly Sprockets burst forth hopefully, “But wouldn’t a quantic moonstone help?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, “if we had one. This is what they are for. But they are so rare. We—we didn’t really expect to find one. We just—hoped—” She began to cry.

  Sprockets whirled away. “Jim, get a rope and follow me!” he begged. “Hurry!”

  He clicked on his force globe, rushed through the purple veil of the air lock, and jumped down the stairway. His cerebration button and his balance button were already turned up high, and now a halo of color began flashing merrily around his head as he turned on his instinct and his special perceptor buttons.