The Cyborg and the Sorcerers

by Lawrence Watt-Evans

  "I slammed the door. I'm sorry."

  "Oh." Slant looked about and noticed the snark in his hand for the first time. He crossed to his vest and placed the weapon gently atop it, then turned back to Haiger. "What time is it? How long have you been here?"

  "I've been here since just after sunrise; that was a little more than an hour ago." Haiger was standing in the middle of the floor, still clutching the tray; he had not moved since Slant's startling performance. He remembered the tray's existence and asked, "Would you like something to eat? Ahnao and I were about to have breakfast, as we did not know how much longer you would sleep. You're welcome to join us."

  "Thank you, I think I will." He postponed considering anything important until he had eaten his fill.

  When his stomach felt right, he leaned back on a pile of cushions and asked, "Are you there?" The memory of his conversation with the computer was vague and distorted by sleep, so that he was not completely certain it had not been an unusually vivid dream. That the computer had said nothing since he was awakened by the slamming door served to enhance his doubts.

  "Affirmative."

  It had not been a dream. "Just checking," he replied.

  His situation suddenly seemed precarious. If the computer found out why he had actually come to Praunce, it would almost certainly kill him. If the wizards found out that the computer was operational again, they might well kill him. Worst of all, he could not predict his own actions; he might do something tantamount to killing himself at the computer's insistence. Yesterday he had looked forward to a long life of relative peace; now he was unsure he could live out the day.

  "Is there any word from Arzadel today?" he asked Haiger.

  "No, not yet; the Council has probably just now met."

  "How long do you suppose they'll take?"

  Haiger shrugged. "There's no knowing. It might be five minutes or five days."

  That added yet another uncertainty, and Slant felt trapped. He wanted to just walk away from this whole mess.

  Was there, he asked himself, any reason not to simply walk away, to go back to his ship immediately and stop worrying about wizards? He could not think of any. There was no need to tell anyone of his intentions, except of course for the computer. It might turn nasty if he acted too independently.

  "Computer," he said, "I think I've made a mistake in coming here. I want to come back aboard to reconsider the situation."

  "Query: Advisability of proposed course of action."

  "I don't see any reason to do otherwise. I came here to try and restore the ship's power, but you've done that without my help. My continued presence here serves no useful purpose anymore and puts me at risk."

  "Affirmative."

  "Then I should return?"

  "Affirmative."

  A wave of relief swept over him; he would be able to get out without having his brain burned. The only difficulty now was in getting down out of the tower. "Haiger," he said, "has anything been done about our horses? I should go tend to them."

  "Horses?"

  "Yes; we had three horses. We left them down at the base of the tower."

  "I'm afraid I don't know anything about them."

  "There's no problem; the Council probably won't need us for a while anyway, so if you could just lower me back down the tower, I'll tend to them myself." An unpleasant possibility occurred to him. "Can you take me back down? I know you're only an apprentice, but it's not that far, and all straight down."

  "I think I can manage."

  "Good! Then would you, please?"

  Haiger still appeared uncertain, and Slant guessed that he had been instructed to keep the two foreigners in the tower. He pretended to think the youth's hesitation had another cause, however, and said, "I'm sure Ahnao will be all right without us."

  Haiger looked at the girl, sitting against a wall chewing on a pear and watching the two men. "Oh. Of course she'll be all right. Very well, I'll carry you down."

  Slant did not repress his smile; now the only problem would be escaping from this slightly inept young wizard.

  The descent from the platform was not as smooth and steady as the ascent had been; instead it was a series of short plunges and sudden slowings, ending in an awkward landing on the wood floor beside the trap door. The tingle of magic was uneven and uncomfortable. Haiger arrived on his hands and knees; Slant came down rolling, as he had been trained.

  "Thank you," he said, "I can manage from here. There's no need for you to walk down all these stairs."

  "Oh, that' s all right. I can use the exercise, and you may need a hand with the horses."

  "No, really, don't put yourself out"

  "It's no trouble."

  Slant gave up; if he protested further it would make the lad suspicious. He decided that it would be best to check in with the computer, however, and asked, "Have you any suggestions?"

  There was no answer.

  Startled, he asked, "Are you there?"

  There was still no response; puzzled, he lowered himself down through the trap under Haiger's watchful eyes and dropped to the floor below.

  Haiger followed, floating down gently rather than dropping, as Slant asked again, "Are you there?"

  No reply came, then or on any of the eight floors below. The horses were still where he had left them, and with Haiger's assistance he found a stable where they could remain while he dealt with the wizards above.

  Walking down eight flights of stairs he had considerable time in which to think, and he decided that he would indeed be dealing with the wizards after all. He had no idea what had actually happened to the computer, but he was able to make a few guesses.

  The guess that he thought most likely was that the wizards of Awlmei had found the photoelectric panels and shut down the ship again. He would have expected the computer to have had time to give him some sort of warning, but he didn't really know what the wizards were capable of; they might have blocked the warning, or worked in some manner the computer couldn't detect, so that it was unaware of its own destruction until it was too late.

  It was possible that the wizards had simply detonated one of the nuclear warheads aboard the ship—that would be quick, practically instantaneous. He wondered whether the flash might have been visible, or the explosion audible, even at this distance. If one had occurred it had probably been while he was dropping down the shaft a few meters at a time, and he could easily have missed it.

  It appeared then that he was free once more, but that this time his ship might be gone beyond repair, leaving him stranded forever on this little planet. He wasn't sure how he felt about that; he considered it as he paid the stablemaster and made sure that the horses were given adequate food and water. He had not wanted to remain on the planet, but it was in many ways preferable to being the computer's slave again, however briefly. At least he had not had to use the release code on himself and still had his extraordinary abilities intact.

  The thermite was still in his skull, though, and even with the computer gone that was an unpleasant thought. Furthermore, he could not be certain that the computer actually was gone for good; it had managed one seemingly miraculous resurrection, and he could not lightly dismiss the possibility of another.

  He should have time, though, for the wizards to remove the bomb and the override. He would have to ask them to hurry, just in case.

  When the horses were taken care of, and Haiger was becoming slightly nervous and impatient, he had decided to carry on as before, as if the computer had never returned to operation. His cheerfulness was only slightly exaggerated as he accompanied the apprentice back to the tower.

  The walk up to the ninth floor was wearing, and his cheerfulness faded. He could not be certain what had happened to the computer; what if it had shut itself down, due to some minor systems failure? It might be back in action at any moment

  He could deal with that, however, simply by leaving again. He could explain to the computer that he had thought it had been deactivated again and had
returned to obtain help after all.

  Haiger helped him up through the trap door by hand rather than by magic; conserving his strength, Slant guessed. A moment later the two of them were rising unsteadily toward the distant platform.

  It was at approximately the halfway point, seventy meters from either the trap door or the platform, that he thought he heard a rustling. It grew into a hiss, and he realized it was not in his ears but in his communication circuit. A hundred meters above the floor it had a rhythm and was almost separable into words.

  Ten meters short of the platform he could tell it was the computer screaming "Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!"

  "What the hell is the matter?" he demanded.

  The computer's reply was faint, but it strengthened with every meter he rose. "Cyborg unit has passed extreme limit of communication range without permission or prior warning."

  "What?" That was not the response he had expected; he had guessed that the computer was in the process of reviving itself again.

  "Cyborg unit has passed extreme limit of communication range without permission or prior warning."

  "I did?"

  "Affirmative."

  "All I did was to go down to the base of the tower and a couple of blocks up the street." The platform was within reach; he caught it and hauled himself upward.

  The computer did not reply until he and Haiger were on the stairs, when it announced, "Evidence indicates that city designated 'Praunce' by cyborg unit lies below broadcast horizon. Communication is possible only while cyborg unit maintains sufficient altitude to remain above broadcast horizon."

  That, unfortunately, made sense. The ship's transmitter had enough power to communicate at great distances—it would have had no problem reaching from Old Earth to its moon—but it could hardly be expected to reach through a planet, or even just a slice of one. That possibility had not occurred to him when he was considering what might have happened to the computer.

  Although it appeared at first that his situation was exactly what he had thought it to be at breakfast, he realized as he entered the main room again that that was not the case. The solution to all his problems was at hand. All he had to do was to return to ground level, with Arzadel, and have the override and thermite removed there; the computer would be able to do nothing to prevent it, would not even be aware of it. Then he could return to the ship and do as he pleased with it.

  He would even be able to bring someone else aboard to speak the release code, while he stayed out of earshot and thereby retained his own special abilities. He would be free to pilot the ship anywhere he wanted then—at least, he would if the computer did not have some sort of injunction against it in its civilian programming. Even if it did, he should be able to alter the programming and get around it.

  Everything, he told himself, was working out beautifully!

  "I came back up here because I thought you'd been shut down again," he told the computer. "I was planning to ask the wizards for help after all, but now I don't need to, so I guess I should start back to the ship."

  "Negative."

  "Why not?"

  "Interruption of communication between ship and cyborg unit for extended periods of time is not acceptable."

  "Then how the hell am I supposed to get back to the ship?"

  "Cyborg unit will remain in present location until main drive is fully operational. Ship will then be relocated within communication range. Cyborg unit will then return to ship."

  "But I could be stuck here for ten days!"

  "Affirmative."

  "The wizards may not let me stay that long."

  "Cyborg unit will terminate any personnel who interfere with acceptable course of action."

  "I may have to kill every wizard in Praunce!"

  "Affirmative."

  "I can't do that!"

  "Failure to comply with acceptable course of action will allow termination of cyborg unit."

  "You damn idiot machine!" Nothing was working out after all. He was stranded in the tower; if he tried to descend that would be an unacceptable course of action, and the computer would kill him.

  He was worse off than before—at least until the ship could fly again. Then he would be able to leave and use the release code to put everything to rights, sacrificing his supernormal abilities.

  He would be able to do that only if he survived the next ten days. He was not optimistic.

  It struck him as incredibly bad luck that he had been in the tower when the computer first restored communication. Coming to Praunce had been a mistake; if he had gone on to Teyzha, he would have remained below the broadcast horizon until the bomb was safely out of his head.

  Was that necessarily true? What if it had taken him another ten days to reach Teyzha? Then he might have been in an even worse situation than he was in at present, as the ship would have come looking for him. At least now he had several days to try and figure out a way to improve the situation. He might find some way to convince the computer that he should be allowed to descend, assuming he didn't get killed first.

  He was back in the main room; he had nodded politely to Ahnao but refused to say anything more than a vague mumble to either her or Haiger, as he was too concerned with his own thoughts and the computer's actions.

  Seeing that Slant was not paying any attention, Haiger made light conversation with Ahnao; the two gradually drifted off to the far end of the room, leaving Slant alone to glower out one of the great irregular windows at the world below.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  IT WAS MIDAFTERNOON WHEN ARZADEL APPEARED, AND Slant had not devised any way to improve his situation. The wizard was not alone; several other men and women accompanied him, clad in flowing robes of red, black, or gold. When Slant rose politely to greet them, Arzadel introduced the wizards, Pleido, Shopaur, Marse, Arrelis, and Dekert.

  The six seated themselves, and Arzadel started to speak; before he could say anything, Slant interrupted him.

  "Forgive me, but before you tell me of your decision, I want to thank you for even considering my request that you aid in the repair of my ship."

  He hoped the wizards would take the hint; he did not want the computer to know what he had actually requested.

  There was a moment of confused silence; Arzadel studied Slant's face and then said, "Of course, of course. I think, however, that the matter may require further consideration, after all; this committee will have to discuss it, and we may want to reconvene the whole Council. Is there anything that we can do for you immediately, here and now?"

  "I do have a favor to ask."

  "Ask it."

  "I am weary from traveling; would it be possible for me to remain here as your guest for nine or ten days?"

  "Ten days?"

  "Yes. I would also ask that someone see to our horses, as I do not feel that I can manage the trip down to ground level again for a while."

  "I think that can be arranged."

  "Thank you. I am grateful for your hospitality."

  "I think we had best depart now, and consider your request further." Arzadel arose, followed by his five compatriots, and the group trailed out through the door.

  Haiger remained behind, obviously confused. "I thought they had reached a decision," he said.

  "So did I," Ahnao agreed.

  "Apparently they hadn't," replied Slant

  There was a faint crawling of his skin; the cyborg informed him, "Minor gravitational anomaly occurring in vicinity of cyborg unit."

  Haiger's eyes were unfocused, staring at something beyond the ceiling. He rose, and his eyes returned to normal. "I have to go," he said. "They're calling for me."

  "Go, then. We can manage for ourselves," Slant said.

  "Must you go, Haiger?"

  "I'll be back when I can, Ahnao." He smiled at her, then followed his superiors, closing the door carefully behind him.

  Slant decided that he would have no further trouble with Ahnao; she would probably be eager to stay in Praunce. He was not entirely
sure he liked the idea after all; she might have been good company once he taught her a few things.

  The remainder of the day passed in quiet boredom; Slant and Ahnao were both tired of admiring the view, discussing the weather and the furnishings, and sitting around doing nothing. Ahnao took to pacing the length of the room impatiently and poking about in the kitchen; Slant, with years of practice in boredom, sat back and lost himself in thought, running through familiar old games, working mathematical problems, considering his situation. He came up with nothing new. He was trying to remember his name when Haiger returned, shortly after sunset.

  "Arzadel has sent me," he announced, "to ask your help in a small matter."

  "What is it?"

  "Someone was sent, to tend to your horses but encountered some difficulty. If you could come down for just a moment, I'm sure the whole matter can be straightened out quickly.

  "Well, computer? It will look suspicious if I don't cooperate, and it will just be a few minutes."

  "Negative. Cyborg unit will remain in present location until main drive is fully operational."

  "I'm afraid I can't, Haiger."

  "I really think you should."

  "I'm sorry, I can't. You people will just have to deal with the horses as best you can without me."

  "I'll tell them what you've said." He turned and left again, with only a brief glance at Ahnao.

  Haiger did not return that night; Slant and Ahnao made themselves an adequate dinner from the stores in the kitchen and, after another hour of sitting around doing nothing, went to sleep. Again, Ahnao remained a few meters away from Slant; she was obviously over her attachment to him.

  Haiger had still not returned when they awoke in the morning. They prepared and ate breakfast, and waited.

  By midmorning Ahnao could no longer stand the boredom and announced, "I'm leaving."

  Slant replied, "Take care of yourself."

  "I'm going to find Haiger and find out what's going on."

  "Good luck, then."

  She looked at him angrily and marched out through the door the wizards had used. Slant simply sat where he was and watched her go. He was pleased that she was removing herself from the danger of his presence.