“Where’s it going?” asked Cavoli.
“I don’t know,” said Mishima. “In the general direction of the others, it seems.”
Visigoth asked if they were planning to “kill” the metal creature, and Mishima told him they would follow it for a while, and only kill it if necessary.
The small group climbed back over the railing and trailed the walking robot. At first they remained, cautious, hanging back, stalking the machine like a predator, but as they moved along, it became obvious that their tactics were unnecessary. Mishima could see that the machine was rather single-minded in its purpose (whatever that might be), and that reacting to living organisms was not part of its programmed repertoire. Eventually the small party edged its way closer, until they were within several meters of the machine. Still, it ignored them.
He radioed back to Becky, reporting what they had discovered, and prepared them for the machine’s arrival if it indeed walked that far along the gangway. Mishima secretly hoped for a comment or possibly a line or two of advice from Colonel Kemp, but the ex-leader remained silent until the radio link was broken.
“I feel kind of silly,” said Cavoli, “just followin’ this tin can ...”
“I know,” said Mishima. “But I would like to observe it just a little, while longer.”
Mishima felt foolish himself, but followed a hunch that he should not act rashly. He kept wondering why the aliens would have built such an odd-looking device. And why have it walk on long, spindly legs? A wheeled or treaded device seemed more practical, he thought.
His questions were answered as the robot approached a bank of machinery lining the inner bulkhead. Nimbly it climbed over the railing and up the face of the machinery like a mechanical fly. Of course! thought Mishima. Wheels would not give it access to the machinery.
Access for what?
For repairs, of course. Mishima watched as his suppositions were verified. The robot paused as it hunched over an unidentifiable device. A panel opened in its body and it slipped one of its arms into the cavity. When the arm reappeared, there was a small tool-like appendage on the end of the forearm. Mishima nodded as he watched the robot begin to dismantle a piece of the larger machine. Using various tool-arm ends, the robot performed some sort of maintenance on the machinery.
Mishima explained what was going on to the others, then radioed back to Becky. Everyone agreed that the repair robots were most likely harmless, but that some caution should be exercised when encountering them.
“We’re right here watching the robot,” he said in a calm, modulated voice, no longer edged with the suggestion of panic. “Why don’t you get the group moving and we will meet you right here?”
“All right,” said Becky. “We’re heading out now.”
She signed off and Mishima listened to the idiot hum of the open channel for a moment before switching it off.
He should have realized sooner that they had chanced on some kind of maintenance mechanism. It had long been realized that the Dragonstar was a self-sufficient, self-repairing entity, but it was also true that no one had ever actually seen how any of the maintenance was effected. It was as if little elves slipped out of the woodwork when everyone was asleep and fixed everything, and nobody had ever been able to catch the elves at work.
Until now, that is ...
“All right,” he said, addressing the others. “Let’s relax for a minute or two, till the others catch up.”
“You mean we’re not going to mix it up a little with the tin can?” asked Cavoli.
Mishima could not discern whether or not the trooper was joking, but he smiled, anyway. “No, I don’t think it will be necessary,” he said. “But keep an eye on it when the rest of them show up. Just in case.”
“No problem, boss,” said Cavoli, grinning. “If it makes a funny move, I’ll turn it into spare parts.”
Mishima nodded. He wasn’t sure he actually liked this fellow, Cavoli, but he seemed like the type who would be good to have in your corner if things got sticky.
The group passed the next ten minutes watching the maintenance robot. It was an incredibly agile, delicately appointed machine. Mishima was fascinated as he watched it scramble nimbly about the rack of alien devices. It was quick and facile as it changed tool bits on its spider-like limbs, making adjustments and replacements. When its tasks were completed it climbed down from the bulkhead and mounted the gangway, heading back toward the control end of the vessel.
“Okay, watch it now,” said Mishima as the robot approached his group.
Everyone spread out, forming a gauntlet of bodies through which the walking machine could pass. The robot paused, as though sensing the presence of the possible obstacles, then proceeded to move carefully between them. Cavoli and the Saurians kept their weapons trained on the robot but it ignored them totally. As it cleared the corridor of their bodies, it picked up its brisk walking pace, and Mishima had an idea.
Radioing Becky, he spoke quickly. “Becky, listen, the robot heading back in the direction it came—back toward the control end of the ship. I think it might be it good idea for us to stay on its heels. It might lead us to something interesting.”
There was a slight pause, then:
“No problem,” she said. “Phineas says we can catch up at double time. You guys keep up with our friend ...”
Mishima closed the channel and got his group moving. Walking with brisk, long-legged strides, they were able to keep pace with the robot. Checking one of his directional instruments, Mishima was able to calculate their position along the length of the vessel, and after several more minutes had passed, he estimated that they were drawing very close to the point where the control-section of the Dragonstar would be located. He wondered if his theory would be correct—if there would be free access between the inner and outer hulls to the business end of the ship ...
There came a sound of footfalls behind him; he knew it was Becky and Kemp and the others half-jogging to catch up. Greetings were exchanged and the others looked ahead to admire the newest surprise to be found on the giant ship.
“So that’s our native guide, eh?” said Kemp as he fell into step at Mishima’s shoulder.
“Yes, I just checked our position and we are approaching the point where the flat end of the cylinder wall sealed off the interior.”
“How much farther?” asked Becky.
Mishima shrugged. “Any moment now.”
Kemp shined his lamp ahead on the gangway, past the spindly figure of the maintenance robot, who still ambled heedlessly ahead of the group. “Can’t see much, but it looks clear ... ”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” Mishima grinned at the Colonel, who had made no attempts to flaunt his experience or in any way influence the group. In fact, Kemp had tacitly helped Takamura make some critical decisions when things had gotten sticky. It seemed as though he was constantly reassessing Kemp. Mishima had always respected the man for his many accomplishments in service to the IASA, but had never trusted the egomaniacal streak in his personality. Perhaps Kemp’s encounter with the Dragonstar had been more than just a humbling experience. Maybe it had been a real object lesson regarding the vicissitudes of life.
Kemp seemed to be changing, growing less authoritarian and less full of self-importance. Mishima wondered if Becky had noticed any differences in her former lover. And he also wondered why he would even ponder such a thing.
* * *
The group followed the maintenance robot for another thirty minutes—until it stopped and climbed a ladder which led to a platform about three meters above the gangway. Above the platform lay an access hatch, which presumably opened up into the interior. Mishima gathered his crew together as they watched the robot climb toward the platform.
“Where’s it going now?” asked Kate Ennis, who had been walking silently alongside Colonel. Kemp.
“The control-s
ection,” said Mishima. “We’re definitely far enough along to be underneath it.”
“You’re sure?” asked Becky.
“Positive.”
“There’s a hatch above the platform,” said Kemp, playing the beam of his torch over the closed access.
Nimbly the robot attained the platform, then stretched out one of its spider-arms to touch a control panel adjacent to the hatch.
“It’s goin’ up!” cried Cavoli. “C’mon!”
Mishima nodded. “Go on! Don’t let it get through and seal us off!”
Cavoli and Krolczyk bounded up the ladder with surprising quickness. Cavoli reached the platform just as the robot had begun to lift itself through the hatch. Getting as close to the machine as possible, the trooper mimicked its climbing movements as it passed through the hatch. Simultaneously Krolczyk levered his rifle through the opening so that the hatch could not swing shut without meeting some resistance. As the robot cleared the aperture, disappearing into the shadows of the interior, Cavoli bolted upward and passed through, standing quickly and holding the hatch open manually. Krolczyk joined him in the opening and signaled to the others. It was a smooth, impressive display of training and gymnastics which Mishima could only envy.
“Nice work!” he said, not trying to conceal his admiration. “Hold on till we can get through.”
His heart started thudding in his chest as he ascended the ladder, hoping that his hunches had been correct. Mishima climbed up slowly and was pulled up through the hatch by Krolczyk when he gained the platform. Looking around, he recognized the sleek, polished corridors of the control-section. He exhaled with a rush of breath and felt himself smiling broadly.
“We did it! This is it!” he yelled down to the others.
As the rest of the team passed through the hatch, Mishima fought to keep his excitement under control. A warm current of satisfaction gushed through him. They had achieved the first objective of his plan.
“Do you recognize any of this?” asked Kemp.
“Not really,” he said. “But you have to understand that most of the control-section my group explored looked pretty much the same, pretty much like this.”
“Should I contact the Council?” asked Becky, already keying in the hailing signal.
Mishima nodded and placed the receiver to his ear. Nothing but static. He winced, tapped the headset.
“What’s wrong?” asked Becky.
“I don’t know. I’m not getting through,” said Mishima. “It’s probably the shielding ... I hadn’t even thought about that.”
“What shielding?” asked Kemp.
“The wall which separates this end of the ship from the open Preserve is lined with alloyed shielding. We never did figure out why. But without booster amps, we had trouble with radio-com.”
“Didn’t we prepare for that?” asked Kemp.
Mishima shrugged. “What can I tell you ... ? I had forgotten about that problem until just now.”
“So we can’t reach the Council?” asked Kate. She was standing off to the side, near the group of Saurians, who had huddled about their leader, eyeing the empty, seemingly endless corridor with great suspicion.
Mishima shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“That’s no good,” said Becky in a remonstrative, almost motherly tone. “You should have remembered, Mishima ...”
Kemp smiled. “Hey, we all make mistakes. That’s why they still put erasers on pencils ...”
“You should be an authority on mistakes,” said Becky.
“All right, that’s enough,” said Mishima, shocked at how quickly Rebecca had lashed out at her former lover. If there was still that kind of feeling involved, he wondered what kind of emotional potentialities still sparked between them.
“It’s all right, Doc,’” said the Colonel, grinning. “She’s right, you know.”
“Perhaps,” he said, “But this isn’t the time or place to be filling out performance-rating charts.”
“That’s right, Mishima,” said Becky. “But what are we going to do now?”
“Obviously someone is going to have to go back and report to the Council.”
“Sounds reasonable,” said Kemp. “I could go back.”
Mishima’s expression must have belied his surprise. Kemp explained himself further: “It looks pretty tame around here, and if you do get a chance to tinker with the controls, I’m not going to be much help. I can at least use my bureaucratic skills to file a complete and accurate report, with the Council.”
Mishima nodded. He had to admire Kemp’s humble acceptance of an errand boy’s job. “All right,” he said. “Sounds good to me.”
“Okay, then,” said Kemp. “I’ll see you all back at the ranch ...”
“Wait a second,” said Kate Ennis. “I think I’d like to go back, too.”
“Really?” asked Becky, her eyes flashing slyly from Kemp to Kate and back to the Colonel.
“Yes,” said Kate. “Like Phineas says, there’s no sign of trouble, and I don’t think Dr. Takamura’s going to need the Saurians back here. And if the Warriors aren’t needed, neither am I, right?”
Mishima listened carefully to what the journalist was saying. It was certainly true that as long as they had no fights on their hands, the Saurian Warriors would be next to useless in the control-section. Besides, Mishima had never learned to feel at ease around the foul-smelling creatures. He could never fully trust them. Why not send them back with Kemp and Ms. Ennis? It sounded like a good idea.
“I tend to agree with you, Kate,” he said after a pause.
“Good,” said the journalist. “I kind of felt like a fifth wheel around here, anyway ...”
Mishima smiled, but inwardly he felt that Kate believed what she was saying. Apparently she did not realize how much he would have valued her experience in dealing with the Saurians if there had been any real trouble. He listened as she explained the change of plans to Visigoth, who appeared pleased to pass the new instructions along to his four charges. The Warriors seemed to be a bit claustrophobic, and the confining geometry of the hive-like corridors must have been making them anxious.
“Be careful,” said Mishima. “If all goes well, we’ll make our way back through the Temple entrance, and we’ll be seeing you soon.”
Good-byes and good-lucks were exchanged, and he watched them descend through the hatch and climb back down to the gangway.
That was when the ship was racked by another series of ship-quakes and the groaning sounds of metal in protest.
GOD, she was glad to be getting out of this damned tunnel!
The thought passed through Kate’s mind like a welcome breeze. She had never been comfortable in confined areas, and combined with the acrid body odors of humans and Saurians alike, Kate had been fighting back waves of nausea and dizziness for the last hour or so. Not that she would have ever wanted to admit this to Phineas or the others, but it was true just the same.
Phineas ... He was the only thing about the whole ordeal that was making it worthwhile. But the gravity of their situation and her growing paranoia of being confined had not allowed her to think much about him..
She didn’t even care about the ship-quakes, she just wanted to get off the gangway and out of the tunnel. It had taken her and Phineas almost ten minutes to calm the Saurians after the hatch had closed over their heads and the platform pitched and shook like a yacht’s poop deck in high chop. Phineas had tried explaining to Visigoth the stress on the Dragonstar’s bulkheads, the molecular bonding problems, but the Warrior leader must have failed math in school because he hadn’t Listened very well.
The lizards had been snorting and hissing and lashing out with their vestigial tails, and Kate was afraid for a moment that they might lose control. Thankfully Phineas had been able to influence Visigoth enough to control his underlings, to get them to climb down
to the gangway and begin the journey out of the tunnel.
Now that they had been on the metal walkway for more than twenty minutes, the Saurians had settled down and had set a long-striding pace, which she didn’t mind keeping.
“At this rate, we’ll be out of here in no time,” said Phineas, fighting to keep his breathing under control.
“They don’t have to hurry on my account,’ she lied.
“Bullshit!” Phineas chuckled but didn’t look over at her. “You can’t wait another second to get out of here.”
“What?”
“You might think you’re fooling me, Kate ... but you’re not.”
“I’m not?” Even to herself, her voice sounded relieved, now that she needn’t keep up that stupid front that everything was just fine. She grinned and looked over at him as they walked. His eyes were bright, his jaw firm and full of strength, and his hair fell about his forehead in a most roguish fashion. He even had good teeth.
“I recognize claustrophobia when I see it,” he said. “You see plenty of it when you spend a lot of time in space vehicles.”
Her relief was being replaced by embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Phineas. I guess I’m just not cut out to be much of an adventurer.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re doing fine!”
Kate wondered if he was sincere, or if he just felt sorry for her. Looking straight ahead, over the broad, muscular shoulders of the Saurians, she saw the pumping machinery which fed the underground stream. Beyond this lay the entrance to the Mesozoic Preserve.
Seeing this, the, Saurians broke into a trot, not afraid to display their anxiety in leaving the tunnel. For once, Kate felt in perfect synch with them. The gangway sloped up to the cave mouth entrance, giving way to a rock floor. Kate and Phineas followed the Saurians out onto. the riverbank. She felt as if a heavy, wet cloak had been lifted from her head and shoulders,
The Saurian Warriors had spread out and were sniffing the air, eyeing their immediate surroundings with suspicion.
Dragonstar Destiny Page 11
