Pucky was slowly beginning to enjoy all this. But worry over Homunk took precedence. As he was dressing with the help of the robot—the servant could not be restrained from lending a hand—Pucky asked him: "Where, then, is the great lord, John? I have to know, d’you hear?"
"I can’t say, but he will return."
Pucky gave up. The bath had not only refreshed him but had put him in good humour. If the funny robot didn’t know where Homunk was, he would have to make a search himself. It wouldn’t be long before he’d find him.
First thing, he found the broken-in door and the two fighting robots who bore unmistakable signs of Homunk’s laser gun. It was a sign that took Pucky a bit farther. At least to the shaft. Here there arose the question of whether Homunk had gone up or down.
Down, of course, Pucky decided after a moment’s thought. Homunk would already know what was on the surface.
Pucky teleported downwards.
According to his estimate, after a few short leaps, he materialized at about a depth of a thousand meters, which amounted to about a half kilometre below the upper layer of the planet’s metal core. The robots had driven their mining operations this far down. Harno was right when he said that the entire centre of the planet was made of metal. The walls of pathways and the rooms through which Pucky passed shimmered silver, sometimes yellowish or almost black. Sometimes he had to duck out of the way of mine cars that seemed to be steered by ghostly hands as they drove to the shaft where they emptied their valuable loads into the cabins of the conveyor belt.
Once he found a sign of Homunk’s presence. The android had broken open a side door, behind which there was a machine storage room. There was no other exit and Homunk was no longer there.
Pucky did not stay here long. He guessed that the machines were remote-controlled for he met no robots. In the hallway once more he continued in the same direction and paid particular attention to any signs that might point to Homunk’s previous presence.
He found none but suddenly heard footsteps. Quickly he hid himself in an empty mine car that stood on some sidetracks. It wasn’t very bright here below but one could never tell how well the robots could see. In any case, the general dimness indicated that the robots were used to artificial light and had no arrangements for infrared.
Pucky listened. Something caught his attention but he didn’t immediately know what it was.
Then he suddenly understood: these were no single footsteps but the steps of an entire marching column. They did not come toward him but went off in the opposite direction. It was a weird sound, here, a thousand meters underground.
Pucky climbed out of the mine car and continued on his way. To make greater headway, he teleported ahead a bit. The steps grew louder. Only now it occurred to him that none of the mine cars were operating any more. They stood fully loaded in the hallways but they did not move.
One leap more and he saw the robots.
There were about two dozen of them, three abreast, and they were marching toward some unknown goal. Not one of them looked around, so that Pucky could get to within a few meters of them.
And then he became aware of something else: the robots could be distinctly told apart from those he’d met on the surface of the nameless central planet. They were sturdier, nearly square, and had two powerful, five-fingered hands. As far as Pucky could determine, they were all unarmed.
The column marched steadily towards a huge door that cut off the hallway. The door opened automatically. Before it closed again, Pucky, too, slipped through—and stopped as if nailed to the ground.
He was looking out upon a huge hall with high ceilings and smooth walls. Flat and powerful machines were set into the floor, behind which rose iron bars and electrical equipment. The light was brighter here than in the hallways.
But that wasn’t what astounded Pucky.
It was Homunk.
The android was standing on a mighty block of metal as on a podium. In front of him, filling the entire hall, were more than 1000 worker robots. They were looking expectantly at the oval screen whose controls were within Homunk’s reach.
Pucky squeezed himself into a comer so he wouldn’t be easily covered. He was sorry he couldn’t understand the symbol language of the Galacteers but he could guess what was taking place here.
After the religious revolution, Homunk was trying to start a second one. The revolution of the workers.
6/ SAVIOR OF THE UNIVERSE
At the speed of light, the EX-238 was approaching the only planet of the lonely yellow sun.
Maj. Koster had ordered the ship to be put in combat readiness. All the crew were at their stations. Admittedly the former heavy cruiser was short-handed but automation made up for that.
Iltu and the mousebeavers had volunteered their services but Koster declined with a smile. "It isn’t necessary," he assured Iltu. "We have enough people. I would rather you’d try to establish telepathic contact with Pucky. We don’t know what to expect on the planet nor what has happened there. We don’t even know whether Harno’s information was correct."
"Why should he lie?"
"Maybe the sphere was just plain wrong."
"Harno’s never wrong," Iltu maintained. "Are we going to land?"
"If no one prevents us, yes. In any case, because of the interference in the radio equipment I can’t ask for the usual permission to land. Besides which, no one knows whether the robots could even understand us."
The navigation officer came up to them. He made a wide circle around Iltu. The crew of the EX-238 had plenty of experiences with the mousebeavers. And they hadn’t always been pleasant.
"Sir, our distance is two light-hours. Should we keep up our present speed?"
"Right now, yes. No observations? No Silver Arrows?"
"Nothing, sir. They’ve been sighted all over the Milky Way, but here, where their home base is supposed to be, there apparently aren’t any. If I could make a comment, sir…"
"Comment away, Lieutenant."
"It looks as if the Silver Arrows have withdrawn to their home base. Perhaps they’re waiting for us."
"How could they know we’re coming?"
"Homunk, sir."
Koster nodded slowly but was looking at Iltu.
She said nothing.
The door to central control opened. Wullewull came strolling in, his fur in frightful disarray as usual and his uniform sloppily put on. "Iltu, I want to go back to Mars," he piped with a plaintive face and sprang in one leap onto the comer couch that used to be reserved for Pucky. But now Wullewull could indulge himself. "This Ooch is a braggart, a show-off, a coward, nothing but a common…"
Iltu threw Koster a helpless look, went to Wullewull and patted his back. "Trouble because of Biggy? Why don’t you keep your hands off his girl? Look, there’s Fippi. I know she’s secretly wild about you and your excellent abilities. I won’t come right out and say she’s in love with you but at least she finds you interesting. More interesting, in any case, than Ooch. And Fippi is very pretty, you must admit."
Wullewull was all ears. He squatted down and looked penetratingly at Iltu.
"She’s wild about me and finds me interesting?"
Iltu nodded earnestly.
"More interesting than Ooch?"
Again Iltu nodded.
Wullewull slid slowly from the couch, drew himself up to his full height of one meter, smoothed his fur hastily and stated: "You’re right, Iltu. Fippi is a beautiful girl. I can’t understand why I’ve preferred Biggy. Biggy’s a nothing. I can’t understand what Ooch sees in her. But he’s always had strange taste." Head held high, he strutted out of central control and forgot to close the door from pure excitement. Iltu did it telekinetically for him, then she looked at Koster.
It took 10 seconds, then both burst into laughter. Even the lieutenant joined in and forgot his vanished Silver Arrows.
"You sure can handle them, Iltu," Koster acknowledged. "Do you really think he won’t fight with Ooch over Biggy any more?"
"Not over Biggy but from now on they’ll be fighting over Fippi."
"Aha, you do know Wullewull well."
"That, too, but most of all I know Ooch. He begrudges everybody everything. He would even fight over me with Pucky if he didn’t have so much respect for Pucky."
On the screens the planet had grown larger. Koster and his officers now saw exactly what Pucky and Homunk had seen before them. The surface consisted of coherent landmasses, interrupted only by inland seas; the huge factories, no cities, very little agriculture and the highways. Also expansive spaceports and whole fleets of Silver Arrows.
Koster had their flight speed reduced. They were still in combat readiness. Their protective screen was turned on.
At a height of 100 kilometres, the EX-238 circled the planet in the centre of the galaxy.
On the magnifying screen all details of the surface were plainly visible and shortly after two trips around the planet the observers noticed things to give them something to think about. Several huge robot armies were sweeping over the continent. They had various destinations but always seemed headed toward where the concentration of industry and spaceports was particularly heavy.
The largest of the spaceports was the goal of three different armies, one of which was crossing the flatland in front of the western mountain chain.
Koster had to look twice before he could believe it. "Strange," he then said. "They’re carrying something in front of them and, if I’m not mistaken, it’s a human figure. It can’t very well be Homunk but it looks just like him."
"It’s clearly distinguishable," the lieutenant confirmed. He was staring at the screen in amazement. "A human figure. There’s some shining metal. Do you suppose it’s some kind of a symbol?"
"The way they’re carrying it in front of the army might lead to that conclusion," Koster said. "But why should the robots be doing it? That’s no procession there below!"
"It looks like it, though."
It really did look like it. Unfortunately, a little later when two small and agile Silver Arrows attacked the army with air weapons that shot into the columns of robots, it no longer looked like a procession.
"War!" shouted the lieutenant. "They’re at war there! That makes our mission more difficult. How can we possibly land?"
The attacking ships turned around after a short while and disappeared in the direction of the city. The robots that were destroyed stayed where they had fallen while the rest of the army continued its march. In front, the human statue was on a stand carried by 4 robots.
"We’ll try to make our peaceful intentions known to them before we land," Lan Koster said with determination. "Until now they’ve ignored us completely. Either they’re too busy with their own affairs or they think we’re not dangerous. That would suit us fine."
At a low altitude the EX-238 flew toward the city, losing still more altitude. Three or four Silver Arrows crossed their path but they avoided them in good time and changed their course. Once they could even see an air battle. Two small spaceships were shooting at each other until one plunged down and disappeared in the flames of an explosion. Only a smoking crater was left in the middle of a long, flat building.
Above the spaceport, Koster turned off the explorer ship’s engines. The gigantic sphere was now held only by gravitational fields and floated motionlessly over the landing field at an altitude of 500 meters. All the protective screens had been activated to prevent a surprise attack. In weapons control, the men sat behind the fire control panel and waited for the order to attack. The order did not come.
Far below the battle raged for the possession of the spaceport.
The approaching army with the human statue was still 20 kilometres away but it looked as if dissension had broken out within the city itself. A strong police cordon surrounded the spaceport. It was attacked by apparently disorganized troops and independent hordes of different kinds of robots. The battle they saw now was more gruesome than anything the crew of the EX-238 had ever seen. Of course only mechanical beings were destroying each other but they used every imaginable method in doing so. It was also precisely the mechanical nature of the combatants that made this gruesomeness necessary. A robot would cease fighting only when its brain was destroyed. And he was not afraid of being destroyed. They were not motivated by self-preservation; their only goal was to disable their opponents.
The robots fought with modem rayguns, heavy work tools, iron bars and bare steel fists. They fought until their opponents were out of combat or until they themselves were destroyed. Often this happened only when their bodies were almost entirely shattered and demolished. Only when their brains gave up did they give up.
Koster turned to FR-7, the research robot of the expedition.
"FR-7? Do you recommend landing?"
"Without landing we’ll never find out what’s happening below." The powerful robot pointed to the controls of the spaceship. "I’m leaving the EX-238, then you can turn on the protective shields again."
"You’re going alone?"
"Yes. They’ll listen to me, these Metalix. I am anxious to get to know them." He made a rattling noise. "After all, they’re basically my compatriots."
Koster agreed. At the moment he could think of nothing better. If only Pucky would show up! He could, after all, teleport…
The spacesphere sank slowly down. There was enough room so that no Silver Arrows would be damaged. With a small jerk, the EX-238 finally touched ground. The humming of the engines stopped.
On the screen their surroundings were easily visible. The heavily armed police were still defending the spaceport but they were gradually being pushed back. The powerfully built robots, unarmed but in the majority, were stronger.
FR-7 waited in the airlock. No pressure equalization was necessary and the outer hatch could be opened immediately and without further ado. The explorer robot brought his weapon arm into the most advantageous position and let himself be carried to the surface of the planet by an antigravitation field. Behind him the protective energy field once more enveloped the EX-238.
"I’m going toward the police cordon," FR-7 radioed back. "So far they haven’t noticed me but that will soon change. Stay tuned. Maybe I’ll need directions from you."
"Avoid combat—if it’s possible," Koster told him again. "Otherwise do as you think best."
Of course FR-7 would do as he thought best. He’d even use his weapon if he thought best but he would still have to inform Koster and ask permission, if there was time.
He saw that the defenders of the spaceport had received reinforcements. Out of an underground hangar came about two dozen armoured vehicles that fired energy beams into the ranks of the attackers and destroyed more than half. To FR-7’s surprise, the survivors drew back immediately. It was not an act of self-preservation but the robots must simply have seen that without more powerful weapons they could do nothing against the tanks. They would get weapons or else attack at another spot.
Four of the spaceport defenders had by now noticed FR-7. They saw he came from the ship that had just landed and was unarmed. While the tanks were pursuing the retreating Metalix, the 4 robots came toward FR-7. They stopped close in front of him.
FR-7 knew hundreds of languages and as many dialects. He tried several varieties of Arkonide dialects and after the third try got the desired result.
"It is good," said one of the Metalix, "that your ship landed just now. We don’t know who you are and we also don’t know where you come from but you could not have come at a better time."
FR-7 was not omniscient. He did not understand what they meant by their statement. In his opinion this reception was too cool. They acted as if they had been expecting them and were not particularly excited over it. And the EX-238 people had been expecting the exact opposite.
The Metalix! The cruel robots who avoided all contact with other intelligent beings, even with robots!
And now they simply welcomed them…
FR-7 decided to be on his guard
. His right arm with its hidden weapon stayed at the ready. He did not trust this calm.
"I am glad that our visit is welcome to you," he said in old Arkonidian, a language that was hardly to be found in the Empire any more. "It is awkward for me to witness strife that does not concern me."
It sounded like a statement but it was really a question. And it was promptly answered.
"They are rebels. They were stirred up—by organic beings no less—that came to our world as prisoners. For thousands of years there has been nothing but peace and quiet here. Now there’s rebellion. It will soon be ended, though."
Organic beings? FR-7 found no explanation for this. They could not mean Homunk, for Homunk was an android, a half-robot. And Pucky? No, they surely couldn’t mean Pucky.
Before FR-7 could say anything, a tumult arose some 100 meters away. Ray beams whooshed over the heads of some robots but then the two parties seemed suddenly to unite. A detail of half a dozen Metalix marched in step towards FR-7 and his four companions.
The explorer robot took a few steps backward to get better aim if necessary. He did not like the approaching marchers.
"Who are they?" he asked.
The four Metalix with whom he had just been speaking had followed him. They were careful to keep him in their midst.
"Religious fanatics," explained one of them to the great puzzlement of FR-7. "They belong to a sect that believes in the return of the old gods. They come to determine whether their prophet has lied to them."
FR-7 had a positronic brain with a memory bank whose capacity was commensurate with his importance. As far back as he could remember, he had never come across robots who believed in gods. Fanaticism was against all logic; belief had nothing to do with knowledge. And robots were capable only of knowledge.
Who were these Metalix who wanted to know whether their prophet had lied to them?
The detail had in the meanwhile reached them and had come to a halt. One of them stepped forward. On his chest a small screen began to show abstract patterns in rapid succession. One of the four robots standing next to FR-7 answered the same way.
In the Centre of the Galaxy Page 12
