Mirror Friend, Mirror Foe

by Robert Asprin

  The corridor ended abruptly. Set in the right-hand wall was another metal door identical to the one he had first passed through. His scanners again gave no indication of alarms, so he cautiously opened the door a crack and peeked through.

  Yes, this was it. The manufacturing area.

  He slipped through the door and let it close behind him, standing silently in momentary awe at the spectacle before him. Until this moment, he had never truly comprehended the size of Mc. Crae Enterprises or the epic proportions of the job before him.

  The room was huge, easily as large as a spaceport hangar. Packed into the room, wall to wall, floor to ceiling, were the assembly lines. The place seemed to be one solid mass of machines, bins, conveyor belts, catwalks, and ladders. It was a study in perpetual motion, with bits of partially assembled robots appearing and disappearing as the various pulleys ferried them along their destined course of completion. The din was unbelievable.

  Hosato experienced a flash of despair. It was so big, so complicated. And it was only one of many such areas he would have to sabotage to halt production. How could he possibly hope to stop it all by himself?

  Angrily he halted that train of thought. His family had not failed to fulfill a contract in more than two centuries, and he wasn’t going to be the one to ruin that record. So it was complex. Complexity meant vulnerability. There was a weak link here somewhere, but he wasn’t going to find it standing here staring.

  Steeling himself to the task, he began his circuitous tour of the facility.

  An hour and a half later he paused on one of the high catwalks to take a breather. Leaning against the saftey railing, he surveyed the area as he tried to collect his thoughts.

  Once in the manufacturing area he was relatively safe from surveillance and had unsealed the head of his suit to give himself better visibility and ventilation. The hands and feet he left sealed so that on the off-chance anyone appeared, he could reseal the suit in minimal time.

  He was beginning to think Rick was right when he said nothing- could go wrong in the manufacturing area. About the only way Hosato could think of to disable the area would be to blow the whole mess sky-high. Except that he didn’t have—and couldn’t get—the necessary equipment.

  If he sealed the doors, they could just cut new doors in the wall and keep producing. If he destroyed the stored components, they could quickly produce new ones. The assembly machinery was modularized. The bulky maintenance robots with their forklift arms were ever vigilant as they roamed the floor and catwalks. They could quickly replace any damaged unit in minimal time, and production would continue.

  The maintenance robots were small wonders in themselves. Hosato had paused for a while to watch a dozen of them at work. They were apparently dismantling one product-assembly line and rebuilding it to new specifications in preparation for the production of a new type of robot. Watching them glide back and forth lifting and placing the heavy assembly modules gave him a new appreciation for the strength and versatility of today’s robots. But that wasn’t solving his problem.

  The various cables and power lines came up through the floor, feeding directly into the massive pillars and girders that supported the maze of machines. If he was going to try to go after those, he might as well blow the entire area. Nor could he tamper with the control signals. If Suzi was right in her analysis, they couldn’t be jammed or distorted. Besides, any jammer unit…

  A subtle vibration in the rail he was leaning against captured his attention. One of the maintenance robots was rolling swiftly at him down the catwalk. He had been so engrossed in thought he hadn’t noted its approach.

  In one frozen moment he realized it wasn’t going to stop. With a bound, he leaped up, to balance precariously on the railing, waiting for the machine to pass by. Then he saw the forklift. One of its massive arms was extended over the railing. In a moment it would knock him from his perch, to fall to his death. He had one split second to look for an escape route.

  He saw it and jumped for it in the same heartbeat. Directly overhead was another catwalk. His reaching fingers found purchase on the lip of the walk, and he pulled his legs up out of the way of the swiftly moving monster below.

  The maintenance robot continued on its way without apparently noting his activities at all.

  Hosato waited a moment, then swung his legs and dropped back onto the catwalk below. He glared after the machine as he waited for his heart to resume its normal rhythm. Strange. Usually heavy, mobile robots had built-in sensors that would not allow them to approach a human at speeds like that. Maybe since these robots were being used in a manufacturing area where no humans were present, those sensors had been deactivated. If so, Hosato didn’t like it. It was dangerous.

  Had he been a little less agile, the robot would have killed him.

  He was suddenly eager to get back among other humans. His mission here was over, anyway. Suzi had been right. He was going to have to hit the main computer and power-source building if he wanted to successfully complete his mission. That would take considerable preparation.

  Returning to the floor level, he was heading for the door back for the access corridor when another door caught his eye. It was clearly labeled “Prototype Room.”

  That stopped him. He fought a silent inner battle for a moment; then curiosity won out over caution. With any luck, he might get an advance peek at Turner’s new security robots, or at least get an idea of what direction their development was taking.

  Resealing his hood to reactivate the Ninja suit, he opened the door a crack and peeked inside. It was a room not unlike the one he was currently in; smaller, no assembly lines, and more important, no humans or cameras.

  Thus assured, he entered the room for a closer look. There were no formal lines, but tables of various sizes with half-built robots on them. Small bins of components lined the walls, and the designer robots moved between the bins and the tables, gathering parts and adding them to the prototypes they were working on.

  Hosato stepped to the first table and studied the work in progress there. Though he was no technician, he had enough general knowledge to understand some of what he was seeing.

  The robot under construction would be humanoid in appearance, though noticeably larger than an average man. It would have four cameras or sensory inputs of some kind mounted on its head, giving it a 360-degree field of coverage without turning. It would probably be fast enough to…

  Something caught Hosato’s eye. A chill ran through him as he focused on the half-assembled arm lying on the table in front of him. Forgetting himself for the moment, he unsealed his right hand and picked the arm up for closer examination. It looked like there was a blaster being built into the…

  The designer robot nearest him suddenly extended a telescoping screwdriver arm straight at his chest. Without thinking, Hosato parried the advancing point with the prototype arm he was holding. In the same motion, he stepped in close and riposted, smashing his improvised weapon across the designer robot’s face.

  There was a brief flare of sparks, and the designer robot stopped, its lights dying and its gauges dropping to zero.

  Hosato tossed the prototype arm back on the table and sprinted for the door, resealing his suit as he went.

  That did it. Damn his fencing reflexes anyway. If the breakdown of a designer robot didn’t bring someone into the area, nothing would. It wouldn’t take a genius to realize someone had helped the robot to malfunction. He had to clear out and establish his presence elsewhere fast.

  As he ran, however, a thought occurred to him. He had almost been killed twice by robots in this mission. It would seem the robots were malfunctioning, and that could be dangerous.

  The problem was, he couldn’t report it to anyone without admitting he had been in an area he had no business being in!

  “There is no record of the transaction you are referencing.”

  The impersonal monotone of the desk-robot was infuriating, but Hosato kept his temper. The last thing he wanted
to do was to cause a scene or draw attention to himself. In fact, that’s why he was here in the Accounting Office, to try to avoid suspicion.

  There had been no overt reaction to his abortive scouting mission yesterday. He had successfully withdrawn from the manufacturing area, finding no indication of alarm or other alert as he did so. Still, he was sure—and Suzi confirmed his feelings—that somewhere someone had noted the results of his activities and was hard at work trying to uncover the culprit.

  Hopefully, it would be regarded as the result of the interoffice rivalries Turner had mentioned, though there would doubtless be a great deal of curiosity as to how the alarm floor and camera were bypassed. Still, the bloodhounds would be looking for any unusual behavior, which was why he was here.

  “Look,” he said firmly to the robot. “It was last Wednesday night. I fed the card into the waiter robot myself. I know the charge was made, so why wasn’t it shown on my pay stub?”

  “There is no record of the transaction you are referencing. I have rechecked the records each time you asked,” the robot replied without rancor. “However, as this is the fifth time you have repeated the same question or a close variant thereof, I must assume you find my answer unsatisfactory. If you wish additional clarification, so indicate and I will summon a human to deal with your problem.”

  “Please.” Hosato sighed.

  “That phrase is unclear. Do you wish—?”

  “Please summon a human,” Hosato amended.

  “Your request is being processed. There will be a short delay.”

  The desk-robot lapsed into silence. Hosato sank back in his chair to wait. He was beginning to wonder if he was really pursuing the right course in this matter. Maybe…

  “Oh, hi!”

  He swiveled his head toward the source of the voice. The same petite redhead who had first welcomed him to Mc. Crae Enterprises had just entered the room.

  “Are you the one with the problem?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He smiled. “I must say that was quick. Were you waiting outside, or what?”

  She made a face at him. “Mc. Crae employees are always eager to serve your every need,” she recited. “Besides, it’s not like I was busy. This is the second problem I’ve had to deal with this month. What’s your gripe?”

  “Well, actually it’s more of an accounting problem than a personnel problem.”

  “That’s okay,” she insisted. “I handle both. Shows you how many problems we normally get, doesn’t it. I tell you, the machines are doing everything these days.”

  “Yes, well, it’s nothing, really. I charged a meal onto my account last Wednesday night, and it didn’t show on my pay stub as a deduction. I just wanted to be sure my records were accurate, that’s all.”

  She cocked her head at him. “You know, you’re a strange one. Most people wouldn’t even notice what was or wasn’t charged to them, and the ones that did sure wouldn’t complain if a meal got charged to somebody else.”

  She stepped to the desk computer and started keying in data. “What’s your employee number?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “Actually, if it’s too much trouble—”

  “Too late to change your mind now.” She grinned. “Now that you’ve confessed, we’re going to see this through. Come on, this is probably going to be the high point of my week.”

  He gave her the number, and she keyed it into the robot.

  “No,” she said thoughtfully, scanning the view-screen. “There’s no record of that transaction.”

  Hosato shut his eyes for a moment as he fought back a sarcastic comment. “Look,” he said finally, “I was there. I personally fed my card into the waiter robot. I know the charge exists somewhere.”

  “Don’t get panicky,” the girl assured him. “We’ll find it. Could you give me a few details?”

  “Well, Sasha and I had dinner at the mall restaurant.”

  “Sasha. Well, well.” She smiled at him and bent over the robot once more. “Here it is.”

  “Where was it?” he asked.

  “My friend, you’ve been flimflammed. Thursday morning your charming dinner companion used her security override to erase the charge from your record and had it added to hers instead.”

  Hosato felt a mild pang of annoyance. “Well, just transfer it back,” he ordered.

  “Can’t.” The girl smiled. “You’ll just have to give her the money yourself if you want to pay for it. I just wish I could be there when you try.”

  Hosato controlled his temper and forced a smile. “Well, I guess that’s between her and me. Thanks for your help, though. I probably shouldn’t have gotten you involved.”

  “Don’t mention it. Say, urn, Hayama. Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but about your girlfriend there.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” he corrected.

  “Really. Good. That makes this a little easier to say, then. Did you know she’s trying to get you replaced?”

  “What?”

  “Now, don’t blame her. She’s probably under orders from on high to save a few bucks on the budget. You know what they say, 'Never mix friendship with business.' You should hear her side of it before you tell her to drop dead.”

  “First,” Hosato interrupted, “I think I' should hear your side of it.”

  “Well,” she began eagerly, “remember I said this was the second special problem I had to deal with this month. Well, the other one was her. She called me up last Thursday and said she wanted me to send out a personnel-scouting request to all our field agents. You’ll never guess what for.”

  “A fencing coach?” Hosato supplied.

  “Wrong,” she said triumphantly. “For a spy. For someone who specializes in espionage and sabotage, but—and here’s the kicker—a spy who can double as a fencing coach. It looks like someone thinks your job should be doing double duty. That’s what hit me, you know. We used to have two girls here, one handling accounting problems and one covering personnel. Then…”

  Hosato wasn’t listening as she rambled on. The Ninja trap. So that’s what Sasha had up her sleeve. Instead of proving the fencing coach had other talents, she was simply putting out a call for a list of dubious characters who could fence. All she would have to do would be to see if the existing coach were on it. If he were Would it work. How many of his contacts would supply his name in response to that request. Would she make the connection between Hosato and Hayama. There were a lot of Japanese in space, but how many of them could fence?

  “Hey!” The girl laid a hand on his arm, interrupting his thoughts.

  “I didn’t meant to get you upset. Even if she finds someone, you can always find another job, can’t you?”

  “Sure,” he said bitterly. “As a professional duelist. I was trying to leave that behind. Not much job security, and the retirement plan is rotten.”

  “Gee, I’d like to run interference for you, but well, you know, it’s my job. Still,” she said, “I do feel somehow responsible. Tell you what. I get off at four, why don’t we' get together over drinks, and maybe between the two of us we can come up with something.”

  “Okay.” Hosato smiled. “Where shall I meet you?”

  “Why don’t I drop by your room?” she suggested. “And we can decide where we’ll go from there.”

  Suzi will love that, he thought.

  “Terrific,” he said. “I’ll see you then.”

  “Okay,” she said, standing up. “And in the meantime, don’t worry. Sasha’s going to have her hands full for a while after what happened last night.”

  Hosato was suddenly alert.

  “What happened last night?” he asked casually.

  “Haven’t you heard. Somebody killed Turner. Blew his head off with a blaster.”

  “What. Who did it?”

  “Nobody knows, but it had to be one of the guards. They’re the only ones in the complex with blasters. The president has ordered them all to turn in their weapons until the investigation is complete.”

&n
bsp; A spark burned in Hosato’s memory. “Was he in the manufacturing area?”

  “No, he was in his office. That’s about all I know. See you after work.” She started for the door.

  “What about the boy. Turner’s son. What happens to him?”

  “Gee, I never thought about that. I suppose the company will take care of him somehow. See you later.”

  Hosato sat in thoughtful silence after she left. Finally he leaned forward and spoke into the desk-robot.

  “Can you connect me with Harry Turner’s personal quarters?”

  “I can function as an intercom system,” the robot responded.

  “Then would you connect me, please?”

  There was a silence; then James’s voice came out of the speaker. “Yes?”

  “Hayama here, James.”

  “Oh. Hayama. I won’t be able to take my lesson today—”

  “I know, I just heard. What I wanted to say was that after all this is over, if you’re still interested, we can talk about your coming in with me as an apprentice.”

  “Thanks, Hayama. I appreciate that.”

  “One more thing, James. What was your father doing in his office last night?”

  “It was the security-robot thing again. He was going to be looking at the first working prototypes.”

  “But you have my every assurance that such a thing is impossible!” Suzi floated at Hosato’s heels as he paced up and down his apartment.

  “Look, Suzi,” Hosato said grimly, “I was almost killed twice yesterday by robots. How do you explain that?”

  There was a moment of silence before the robot replied. “The only possible explanation is equipment malfunction.”

  “Twice. In the same area. Within fifteen minutes of each other?”