by Isaac Asimov
The AMSOP was busy at the moment but would be free in an hour if they wanted to make an appointment. It seemed to be the best they could do, so they took it.
“So what do we do while we’re waiting?” Derec said as he turned off the viewer.
“We could spend the time getting to know each other better —”
“Should I entertain you with stories about my family?”
She laughed — a nice laugh. “Maybe not.”
“You could tell me stories about my family.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
“Katherine — the only person who knows anything about me is you,” Derec said pleadingly. “Why don’t you tell me some of it now?”
“Not yet.”
“Still following Dr. Galen’s advice?”
“This really is the best way,” she said, touching his hand.
“It doesn’t feel like it to me,” he said gruffly. “All right. Tell me about you, then.”
“It’s boring,” she warned.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Being hijacked by an alien spacecraft was boring?”
“My life is boring. That’s the first exciting thing that ever happened.” She added, “Except it wasn’t exactly a hijacking.”
“Tell me about it. What was the name of your courier ship?”
“Golden Eagle, out of Viking. We were carrying a diplomatic pouch to Frier’s Planet —”
At least in a first reading, the story had the ring of truth.
According to Katherine, she and her robots had been outbound from Viking on the courier ship Golden Eagle, along with a pilot and two diplomats. Just before they were about to make their Jump at the fringe of the Viking system, the pilot spotted Aranimas’s ship, apparently adrift.
Taking it for an uncharted wreck — in part because of its appearance and in part because they could not raise it on any channel — they abandoned their exit trajectory and went to investigate. Suddenly they were fired upon, and their ship disabled. Katherine and the robots were taken off the courier by the Narwe, and then the courier was set adrift. A short time later the courier exploded, probably, Katherine said, because of a bomb that had been placed aboard.
There were no screaming contradictions in the story, but there were several little points that nagged at Derec. Katherine was vague about just why she was on the courier. At first she seemed to want him to think that she was part of the diplomatic mission. But even though she wanted him to think that she was old enough for such duty, she clearly was not.
When he questioned her on it, she hastily explained that she had been a passenger, using the courier instead of a commercial carrier because she wanted privacy. He wondered aloud at a courier taking on passengers. She responded by hinting that she was important enough to justify any exception that might have been required.
But the biggest sticking point, and the one on which he kept his own counsel, was the behavior of the courier pilot. Couriers carried important people, emergency supplies, engineering prototypes, irreplaceable documents. It didn’t make sense that a courier pilot would endanger his cargo by poking around a wreck. It seemed far more likely that the pilot would report the sighting to the Patrol post on Viking, then make his Jump on schedule.
Derec recalled that the first time her capture had come up, Katherine had quickly changed the subject. He wondered now if that was because she didn’t have her story ready. Perhaps he was being fed half-truths as some sort of test — Dr. Galen’s prescription for crippled minds. If so, he resented it.
But the arrival at last of the Assistant Manager for Station Operations pushed those thoughts to the back of Derec’s mind.
“I am called Hajime,” the AMSOP said, “Dr. Galen tells me that both of you are recovering from your injuries. That is good news.”
“Especially to us,” Derec said under his breath.
“I understand that you have questions about your presence here. I hope that I will be able to answer them.”
Derec opened his mouth to answer, but before he could speak Katherine jumped in. “Begin with when the station first detected our ship and tell us what you observed,” she ordered.
“Yes, madam. The station’s sensors detected an unidentified ship immediately after it emerged from its Jump — as you may know, the termination of a Jump is accompanied by a minor spacetime disturbance comparable to the atmospheric disturbance caused by a discharge of lightning —”
“We know all that,” Derec said. “Get on with it.”
“Forgive me, sir,” the robot said with a slight bow. “I only wanted to be certain that you understood how we were able to detect your ship at such a great distance.”
“Why? How far out were we?”
“Eighty-three astronomical units. At such a distance, the station’s sensors were only able to determine the position and velocity of the vessel. Since there was no direct identification through a transponder or indirect identification through sensor data, this vessel was designated UPH-07.”
“UPH?” Katherine asked.
“Forgive me. Unidentified, Potentially Hostile,” Hajime supplied.
“Go on, Hajime.”
“Thank you, sir. We tracked Oh Seven inbound for two days. We were just beginning to acquire some preliminary data on its mass and profile when an anomalous event took place. UPH-07 divided into two independent bodies, UPH-07A and UPH-07B. The larger vessel, Oh Seven A, made a course correction which carried it out of the station’s zone of control —”
“They cut us loose and then turned around and went away,” Katherine said.
“Looks like it,” Derec said. “Did the big ship Jump?”
“Not while it was within range of our sensors, sir,” Hajime answered. “It is not possible to say what happened once contact was lost.”
Derec and Katherine exchanged glances that said, So they could still be out there somewhere, waiting.
“And the other vessel, Oh Seven B, it continued inbound?” Katherine asked. “That’s where you found us?”
“Yes, madam. A scout with a rescue and retrieval team aboard was dispatched immediately.”
“Can you show us a navigational plot of all this?” Derec asked.
“Certainly, sir.” The robot went to the hyperviewer and entered a code on the keyboard, and a moment later the far wall dissolved into the black of space.
It was all there as the robot had described it. A blue trace from the top of the plot traced the raider’s approach to the station, represented by a golden hexagon at the bottom. One-third of the way there, the blue trace split. A thick green trace angled off the plot to the upper right, while a thin red one continued curling inbound on the original trajectory. Two-thirds of the way down the plot, the red trace intersected a golden trace climbing up out of the station: the rescue ship.
“Can we have a copy of that?” Derec said.
“I will file it in a directory under your name,” Hajime said, his touch on the controls turning the far wall into a wall once more.
“Was the boarding recorded?” Katherine asked.
“Yes, madam.”
“I’d like to see the recording,” Katherine said, beckoning Derec to come sit on the edge of the bed beside her. When he did, she took his hand and gripped it tightly, as though seeking reassurance. The skin contact surprised and unsettled Derec.
“The recording was made by means of a witness robot,” Hajime said. “The multicom will not be able to display the full bandwidth —”
“What’s a witness robot?” Katherine whispered to Derec.
“I’ll explain later,” Derec whispered back. Witness robots were odd-looking, with their bullet heads and 360-degree scanning slit instead of eye sensors, but invaluable for such operations. Their sole responsibility was to position themselves so that their scanners and recorders captured unfolding events clearly. Many a bungled operation had been reconstructed from the data supplied by witness robots before they were destroyed.
“— so if you wish to move
the window left or right at any point please tell me so.”
From the outside, Aranimas’s ship looked like a fat arrowhead trailing bits of the twine which had held it to the shaft. The arrowhead was in fact an atmosphere-piercing lifting body, and the twine the tattered remnants of several transfer corridors which had been attached to the hexagonal junction between the engine exhaust bells at the stern.
Together Derec and Katherine watched as the rescue robots fit a self-cutting emergency hatch to the upper hull. When the hatch’s contact ring had burned through the hull and fused itself in place, the robots entered — one at a time, the witness first.
“This is where Aranimas had me living,” she whispered as the hypervision panned the atticlike upper deck.
“How long were you there?”
“Two months. Believe me, it seemed longer.”
When the witness robot led the way down to the main deck, the first thing they saw was a robot standing in the central corridor.
“Alpha,” Derec cried.
“Capek,” Katherine said at the same instant. “Where’s my robot?”
Hajime suspended the recording. “This robot was removed and taken away for diagnostic examination and repair.”
“I want him back, just the way he was,” Derec said. “You’ve got no right to tinker with him without a work order.”
“The robot resisted our efforts to rescue you. It was judged to be operating in a substandard and hazardous manner and was deactivated. Standard procedure in such cases is to perform a full examination so that the anomaly may be reported to the manufacturer.”
Katherine was nodding in reluctant agreement, and Derec took his cue from her. “All right,” he said. “Go on.”
When the recording continued, they saw themselves for the first time. They were lying head to foot along one wall in the central walkway of the main deck. Katherine winced and turned away at the sight of her own burn-blistered face and bloody clothing. Derec gritted his teeth and tried not to feel the pain all over again that was reflected in his burned skin.
“I thought so,” Derec whispered under his breath. “I thought so.”
“What?” Katherine demanded. “What are you talking about?”
“Alpha. He kept us alive.”
“You heard Hajime — the robot was abnormal. He wouldn’t let them rescue us.”
“That was just the PD cube being careful. Look,” Derec said, gesturing. “Those aren’t positions that you fall into naturally after an accident like that, or even crawl into. We were moved. And more: we were at least five days out when I tripped the booby trap. It took the rescue ship two and a half days to reach us. There’s no quarreling with the fact that we were badly injured —”
“No,” she said with a little shiver.
“I was wondering how we survived until the paramedics got to us. We should have died right there on the ship. All they should have found were corpses. Alpha is the reason they didn’t.” Derec looked toward the robot. “Hajime, could you pause the recording and give us privacy, please?”
“Of course, Derec.” The image and the robot both froze.
“What? What’s going on?”
“I just want to point out that someone else might have been on the ship, too.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“I had wondered why Wolruf and the robot were taking so long to get back from their errand. What if Aranimas regained consciousness? They might still have been trying to lock him up when the bomb went off. Alpha would have come running back. He wouldn’t worry about Aranimas. He probably wouldn’t even worry about what Aranimas might do to Wolruf. Aranimas and Alpha could both have gotten back into Hull A before it was cut loose.”
“And Alpha would have protected us from him, just as it tried to protect us from the rescue crew.”
“That might even explain why Alpha gave the robots trouble.”
“He could have hidden,” Katherine said thoughtfully. “It was his ship. He would have known where he’d be safe. Until the ship was brought in —”
“Just what I was thinking. If he doesn’t have the key, he’s looking for it — or us. If he’s got it, he still may be looking for us. Either way, the key’s not safe, and neither are we. And we can’t just sit around and tell ourselves there’s no rush. We have to start doing something right now.”
Katherine cast her gaze downward into her lap. “All right,” she said at last.
“Hajime,” Derec said. “You can rejoin us.”
The robot stirred again. “Thank you, sir. Shall I continue with the recording?”
“No. Terminate the replay. We’ve seen enough,” Katherine said.
“Very well, madam,” the robot said, complying. “Do you have other questions?”
“Yes. Where is Oh Seven B now?”
“I do not know, madam.”
The answer brought Derec up off the bed, his face reddening. “What do you mean, you don’t know?” he demanded. “You’re the second highest ranking staffer on the station.”
“That is correct, sir.”
“And you don’t know where our ship is?”
“I only know that Oh Seven B is no longer in the berth at which it was moored when first towed into the station.”
“Was it stolen?” Derec pressed. “Are you trying to tell me it’s gone?”
“It was not stolen. It was moved under the authorization of the station manager.”
“Why didn’t you say so from the start?” Katherine snapped.
“Derec asked if I knew where Oh Seven B was berthed. I do not, and so informed him.”
“Then find out where our ship is. I want you to take us to it.”
“I am sorry,” Hajime said. “I am not permitted to do that.”
“Then find us a robot who is permitted,” Derec snapped.
“I have been instructed to refer all inquiries of this sort to the station manager.”
Derec sighed. “All right. You can go.”
“Thank you, sir.” The robot paused. “May I make an inquiry, sir?”
“What about?”
“Do you continue to refer to Oh Seven B as ‘our ship’ out of habit or as a matter of affection?”
“What do you mean?”
“I have been informed that the vessel known as Oh Seven B is no longer your property.”
Chapter 16
INTO THE DARKNESS
THE STATION MANAGER, a robot named Anazon, would not come to see them, but agreed to a brief vidcall.
“Is the care you are receiving satisfactory?” Anazon asked politely. “I hope that Hajime is seeing to your other needs —”
Derec did not waste any time on pleasantries. “Where is our ship? Where is Oh Seven B?” he demanded.
“I regret, sir, that I am not permitted to tell you,” the robot said without a hint of regret in his voice.
“Who gave that order?”
“I regret, sir, that I am not permitted to tell you that, either.”
Derec was determined not to be thwarted. “Who is your supervisor? What’s his name?”
“My supervisor’s name is Aram Jacobson.”
“Get him on this channel.”
“Mr. Jacobson may not be available at this time —”
“Do it. Use whatever priority you have to to get him to answer. And keep the line open. I want to hear what you say.”
The robot reached forward for the hyperviewer controls. “This is Anazon, Manager of Rockliffe Station, requesting a conference with Mr. Jacobson.”
A voice said “One moment,” and there was a pause.
“Yes, Anazon,” a new voice said. The words were muddied by the faint electronic echo which was the telltale sign of a scrambler somewhere in the link. “What is it?”
“Anazon called you on my behalf,” Derec cut in. “Your robots have appropriated my ship. I expect you to order them to return it.”
“And our robot,” Katherine added. “We want Capek back, too.”
<
br /> The hypervision image of Anazon faded and was replaced an instant later by one of a round-faced man with narrow eyes and shiny black hair. In sharp contrast to the robot’s slender physique, Jacobson’s stout body was perched precariously on his executive chair like an egg on a teaspoon.
“Excuse me, by whom do I have the pleasure of being ordered about?” he asked with exaggerated politeness.
“My name is Derec. This is —”
“Just Derec? No last name, like a robot?”
“Don’t be cute. You know all about me. I’m sure there’s a file on me in your library.”
“I have many files in my library,” Jacobson said. “I’m responsible for facilities which employ twenty-six hundred humans and nearly eight thousand robots. Believe me when I tell you that neither your name nor your face are familiar to me.” His gaze flicked toward Katherine. “And you, miss?”
“Katherine Burgess. And don’t call me miss.”
“My apologies if I insulted you,” Jacobson said, bowing his head slightly. “Now if I could ask you to restate your complaint — this is most irregular, to have someone barge in on a private call. I’m afraid it rather distracted me.”
Derec was too furious for words, but Katherine took over smoothly. “We were found on a damaged spacecraft and brought here to Rockliffe Station. Now the station manager refuses to allow us access to our ship.”
“Refuses you access?” Jacobson asked, wrinkling his forehead. “Whatever for?”
“It won’t tell us,” Derec said. “It says it’s been ordered not to tell us — my guess is by you.”
“I assure you not,” Jacobson said, reaching for his computer. “If you’ll just allow me a moment to check the records —” He turned his back to them briefly. “Oh yes, of course,” he said to himself as he studied the screen.
“Of course what?”
Jacobson turned back to face them. “I do recall hearing about you after all, Derec. You’re the amnesia case Dr. Galen is studying. That explains a great deal.”
“Not to me.”
“But it does all the same. You see, the care you’ve been receiving is quite costly —”
