“Uh-huh.” Tess smiled wryly. “Go on with your story, then, Adonian. Your friend, the telepath”—she lifted an eyebrow—”was supposed to read Sakuta’s mind. And he failed.”
“It was not his fault!” Raoul rushed to the defense, put his arm protectively around the Little One. “You cannot blame him! Sakuta used a telepathic scrambler on him.”
“Oh, a telepathic scrambler.” Tess rolled her eyes.
“There are such devices,” Dr. Quong stated. “They use a high-frequency resonator that produces alpha waves. The mind targeted wanders but does not notice anything wrong. As it detects an anomaly or error, another random alpha wave interrupts it, and so on.”
Tess shook her head, unconvinced.
The Little One, when he thought the woman wasn’t looking, jerked his head toward Xris, sniggered, reached out a small hand, and made a swipe at Raoul’s upper arm. Raoul’s lashes fluttered; a side of his lipstick-smudged mouth twitched. He nudged the Little One in the ribs with an elbow.
Xris figured he could guess what that charade was all about. He’d have a talk with those two later.
“Let’s say that Sakuta did use a telepathic scrambler.” Xris looked at Tess, who shrugged. “If that’s true, this is finally beginning to come into focus. This whole job is a setup. Sakuta hires us to steal this ‘bot, tells us it’s worthless except to a museum. And we fall for it.” Xris reached for his pocket, took out a twist. He didn’t give a damn who saw him anymore. He put the twist in his mouth, bit down on it, hard. “He played us for suckers.”
Xris was silent, chewing. Then he demanded, “All right. Who the hell is Professor Sakuta?”
“His real name is Nick Harsch,” Tess answered.
“According to Tess, Harsch’s a Corasian agent, Xris,” Jamil finished.
“Son of a bitch,” Xris said, soft, bitter.
“I didn’t know who he was,” Raoul stated. “But I reasoned that anyone who would use a telepathic scrambler was doing so only because he desired to hide his thoughts. And if one is hiding one’s thoughts, one must be thinking bad things. Bad thoughts in such a lovely head.”
“Son of a bitch,” Xris said again. “And I fell for it. One of the oldest con jobs in history. All so damn obvious! The museum offices are being renovated, so everyone takes the week off. Sakuta and his people show up to do the work. They slap paint on the walls, no one asks questions. One afternoon, Sakuta cleans the paint off his hands, dresses up in a suit and tie, and meets with us for an hour or so, gets rid of us, goes back to painting. The job’s done. Everyone goes home. Son of a bitch.”
“You’re saying that’s what happened?” Tess sounded skeptical.
“Look, Captain, you can contact the Lord Admiralty,” Jamil offered irritably. “They’ll tell you we’re acting on Dixter’s orders.”
“I’ve been in contact with the Lord Admiral,” Tess returned. “You and Xris ... yes, you have your orders.” She waved her hand. “It’s the rest of the floor show I wasn’t expecting. But, just to prove we’re all on the same side, tell me this. Where is the robot?”
“In a crate in the maintenance shed,” Xris said. “For repair.”
Tess eyed him, smiled. “I think you’re telling the truth.”
“I don’t much give a damn what you think, sister,” Xris returned. “Go check it out, if you don’t believe me.”
Tess regarded him intently. Her expression softened. She lowered the gun, tucked it into the holster on her belt. “Don’t beat yourself up, Xris. Nick Harsch is slick. You’re not the first person he’s fooled. If it’s any comfort, you’ve managed to come closer to him than any of our people.”
Xris snorted. “Just tell me what the devil’s going on. What does a Corasian agent want with an antique robot?”
Tess glanced around.
They stood in the wings to the left of the stage. Anyone approaching would have to climb the stairs leading up to the stage from the side. The back of the stage was accessible only by a door leading into the wings.
“This is as good a place to talk as any.” Tess touched a button, lowered the stage curtains. “We’re not likely to be interrupted here. You’ll find more chairs in the back. I think they’re props.”
Raoul cast himself on a love seat, hid his lipstick-smeared face in his arms. The Little One stood by his friend, patted his shoulder in a conciliatory manner. The rest of the team took their seats in the semidarkness.
Xris drew out another twist. “This robot must be pretty damn important.”
Tess drew in a deep breath, let it out with her words. “It is. There’s a possibility that it’s a Lane-laying robot. And if it is, it will be the first one we’ve ever found with all its programming and memory intact.”
Harry’s eyes widened. He gave a low whistle. “I’ll be swizzled,” he said, awed.
Quong evinced interest by sitting up straighter in his chair. “It is in working condition?”
“We think so,” Tess replied cautiously. “We can’t be certain until we run tests on it—”
“It works,” Xris stated. “At least it lights up and talks. And it’s mobile. And it may or may not lay lanes. What does that mean? It works in a bowling alley? I still don’t get it.”
“Space Lanes, Xris,” Harry said, eager, excited. “We studied about these robots in school. I did a report on them in sixth grade. I got an A. Hey, I think I’ve still got the report back home. I could ask my mom to send it—”
“How is your mother?” inquired Quong.
“Oh, she’s fine. She sends her best.”
“A very gracious lady,” Raoul murmured, his voice muffled in his arms.
“Yes, our best to Mrs. Luck,” Xris said through clenched teeth. “Now, if we could return to business? Fine. Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing in physics class something about Lane-laying robots. They built the hyperspace Lanes, or some such thing.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Tess. “And if this robot is, in fact, one of those very same robots, and is in working condition, then this discovery is of monumental importance. And it could be very dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands.”
“Why? I admit it would be interesting from a scientific standpoint. A real museum piece, but—”
“It’s like this, Xris,” Tess explained. “Back in the early days of space travel, about the time of the Black Earth wars and the ecological disaster which followed, these robots—or rather, the scientist who created them—”
“Professor Colin Lasairion,” Harry interjected, proud of his knowledge. “He discovered how to warp space in order to form the hyperspace Lanes that let us move through space but not time. That was always the main problem with faster-than-light travel. Professor Lasairion was of Irish descent and he—”
“Save it for the term paper,” Xris snapped. “Go on, Captain Strauss. The short form.”
“The short form is Tess,” she said.
“I meant about the robot.”
“Oh, that. Well, Pilot Luck is right,” Tess continued, “Professor Lasairion built over one hundred of these Lane-laying robots, sent them out in unmanned spaceplanes to ‘build’ the Lanes. For forty years, the robots traveled throughout the galaxy, using the Lanes they’d built in the beginning to reach other Lanes, expanding ever outward. The professor kept an enormous and complex map of all the Lanes, ensuring that no Lane would intersect with another or travel too close to another because, of course, any ship moving that fast colliding with another ship ...”
She shrugged. “They’d both be vaporized. The professor also developed the scanning devices that ascertain whether or not a Lane is clear before a ship makes the Jump into it. Professor Lasairion made it possible for thousands to flee a dying Earth, find new lives on new worlds in outer space.”
“Throw the man a fish,” Xris stated. “He was a genius and now we’re left with an old robot. I still don’t see what makes this ‘bot valuable—outside of the science fair at Harry’s grade school.”
&nbs
p; “Lasairion was a genius. He was ahead of his time,” Tess said gravely. “So far ahead, in fact, that no one since has ever been able to duplicate his work.”
“1 can’t believe you don’t know about this, Xris!” Harry was shocked. “Didn’t you ever wonder why no one’s ever built any new space Lanes?”
“Yeah,” Xris said, taking out another twist. “I lay awake nights worrying about it.”
“That is because you are not a pilot, my friend,” Dr. Quong said. “Or a merchant in one of the newly emerging planets that are light-years away from the Lanes. If you were, you would know that the need for more Lanes is critical. This robot could provide us with the basics scientists could use in order to duplicate the professor’s work. I congratulate the NI, Captain,” he added, making Tess a small bow. “This was excellent detective work.”
“We’ve been searching for such a robot for years,” she said. “Every time an ancient crash site is uncovered, we always hope that this will be the site to contain one of the Lane-lying robots—one that either crashed or was shot down—”
“Shot down?” Xris halted her story. “You said the planes were unmanned. Someone went around shooting down Lane-laying robots? What for? Some crazed ‘bot-hater?”
“The professor had enemies. A lot of enemies. Religious fanatics, who believed that man was not meant to leave Earth, travel among the stars. Despots and dictators, criminals and corporations, who wanted the professor to work for them, give them control over the Lanes. One or more of these groups tried at various times to buy him. They offered him fabulous amounts of money. He accepted only public funding. He allowed no one government or person or corporation to control the Lanes. The Lanes were free for anyone to-enter; they were dedicated to the service of mankind and, later, to other races living in the galaxy.
“When it was clear that the professor couldn’t be bought, someone tried to kill him.
“It was only by a stroke of luck that the professor escaped his assassin. He fled Earth, sought refuge on an unknown planet. His enemies couldn’t find him, but they could find the robots. They tried to capture the robots, in order to study them, emulate them. The robots were programmed to destroy themselves if capture appeared imminent. Many of them did so, which is why they are so rare and valuable.
“When the professor died—of natural causes, I’m happy to say—his family, acting on his orders, retrieved those robots that were left and destroyed them. The family trashed all his notes and files, making it impossible for anyone to duplicate his research.”
“What about that rumor that one of his children stole some of the equipment and sold it?” Quong asked.
“That was never verified,” Tess answered. “I tend to doubt it. The equipment would have been useless to anyone who didn’t have the background information on how to operate it. Why waste your money?”
Quong nodded in understanding.
“1 would have,” Harry said in a low voice. “Just to have something that was once touched by Professor Lasairion.”
Tess smiled. “Yes, me, too. You can imagine our excitement when this ancient spaceplane actually proved to be one of those used by the professor in his work. A Pandoran NI operative was able to verify the fact that a robot was inside the wreckage and that the robot was intact and, apparently, in working condition.”
Dr. Quong’s expression altered. No much. Probably no one else noticed. But Xris had been watching Quong closely, to see his reaction to Tess’s words. Something was eating the Doc now, to judge by the narrowing eyes, the deepening frown line between the brows. Xris made a mental note to talk to Quong somewhere in private.
“We immediately went to work, through diplomatic channels, to recover the robot,” Tess was continuing. “The Pandoran government was a pain. We thought that they were just being reactionary. They’re always difficult to deal with. They have an overinflated view of their own importance. They’re convinced that there is some giant conspiracy at work in the galaxy. That the king and his ministers do nothing all day long but plot to seize Pandor. If it wasn’t for its strategic location near the Void and the Corasians—”
Xris interrupted, “Save it for your thesis, Captain.”
Tess glanced at him, looked away. “Sorry. I get a bit carried away,” she said coolly. “Suffice it to say the Pandoran government used every legal manuever in the book to keep us from taking the robot.”
“Maybe they weren’t being difficult just to be difficult,” Xris suggested. “Maybe they were being paid to be difficult.”
“By Nick Harsch, you mean. Yes.” Tess nodded gravely. “Yes, that’s what we now believe. We thought we kept the lid on—”
“He did his homework,” Tcyho said. “Like friend Harry here.”
“He did his homework, all right. Sakuta—I mean Harsch—told me he had an informant on Pandor,” Xris said. “He provided me with detailed information on the ‘bot. Either he’s got someone on his payroll or he came to take a look at it himself.”
“However he found out about it, he found out. And we found out that he found out.” Tess spread her hands. “Don’t you see? This was our chance. We’ve been trying for a long time to catch Nick Harsch. We know he has sold information, weapons, and technology to the Corasians.
“The Corasians have used his information to launch attacks on the outer systems. Harsch has been responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands. I think you all know how horribly those people died, too,” Tess added somberly.
“I saw Chico die,” Harry said. “They ate him. Started from the feet up. He—”
Xris interrupted, not liking to think about Chico. Xris had been the one forced to put his friend out of his misery. “So you figured that when Harsch showed up to steal the ‘bot, you’d nab him. That’s why NI posted you here.”
“A little more complicated than that, but something like that, yes. To be honest, I figured one of you”— Tess’s gaze went from Jamil to Xris—”for Harsch.”
“You don’t know what he looks like?”
Tess shook her head. “We know very little about him at all. He’s good, really good. That’s why we decided to use the robot as bait. We figured that this was so important, he’d come himself. We were wrong. Your photos were picked up on security cams when you landed, sent to the Admiralty. They spotted you immediately. I believe the Lord Admiral’s response was, ‘Oh, shit! Aren’t we in enough trouble?’ “
“Nice to know we’re appreciated,” Xris growled.
“At that point,” Tess continued, “it was either have you both arrested and locked up or use you to get to Harsch.”
“You pick up Jamil and haul him off on some phony court-martial scam—”
“—to meet with Dixter,” Jamil said. “That’s where I’ve been for the last twelve hours.”
Xris cast his friend an interrogative glance.
Jamil nodded. “Yeah, she’s telling it straight. At least, she’s telling it the same as the Lord Admiral’s adjutant told me. We deliver the robot as planned—with one exception. This.” Jamil reached into the metal briefcase, brought forth a small object that looked rather like an ordinary writing pen, except that it had magnetic grapples at both ends. He held it up. “Tracking device. We insert this in the robot’s innards. The device leads the NI to Harsch.”
“Our orders are—”
“Deliver the robot and collect our payment. That’s it. The tracking device”—Jamil slid it back into the case— “does the rest.”
Xris snorted. “Who’s the bright person thought this one up? What happens if Harsch decides to run a scan on the ‘bot? He finds out it’s wired. The man is understandably upset and, to even things out, he blows our heads off! Has NI considered this little possibility? Or don’t they give a damn?”
Tess was attempting to be patient. “It would take a very sophisticated scanner to detect the tracking device. And I doubt if he’s going to have such fancy equipment with him. Where are you supposed to rendezvous?”
Xri
s muttered something.
Tess leaned forward. “What was that?”
“Hell’s Outpost on the frontier. Near the Void.”
“Near the Corasians,” Tess said, exasperated. “And didn’t you think this was a strange place for a rendezvous with a professor?”
“I was the one who suggested it,” Xris snapped. “How the hell was I supposed to know any different?” He shook his head. “I’m still not keen on this. What happens if we refuse?”
“Go to jail,” Jamil said. He flicked a glance at Tess, looked back at Xris. “Go directly to jail. After we stand trial, of course. For the abduction of Major Darlene Mohini.”
Raoul lifted his head, stared. The Little One shivered all over. Harry’s forehead creased in puzzlement.
“But Darlene isn’t—”
“Ahem!” Xris coughed loudly, interrupted.
“Uh? Oh.” Harry blinked. “I ‘get it.” And he scratched his head.
“Quite the nice little setup,” Xris said quietly. “What did you tell the Admiralty?”
“To go play with themselves.” Jamil was blunt. “No offense, ma’am,” he added, his brow dark, “but I don’t like threats. I told them we’d take the job, but we do it for our own reasons, on our own terms. Not because we’re being blackmailed.”
“Good man.” Xris smiled, took out a twist. He glanced at Tess. “What happens if that fancy gadget of yours doesn’t work? Suppose you lose track of the ‘bot or Harsch or both?”
“Oh, did I forget to mention?” Jamil was grim. “The tracking device is also a remote-controlled bomb.” He patted the briefcase. “Touch a button in here and boom.”
“We don’t want to destroy the robot, of course,” Tess said. “We’ll do everything possible to keep it intact.”
“And us along with it, I hope,” Xris said dryly.
Tess nodded absently. “But we’re prepared to destroy it, rather than allow the robot to fall into enemy hands.”
Robot Blues Page 21
