“It’s a trick!” Gedge managed, coming suddenly to life and trying to pull away from Rick.
The guard realized his error—too late.
Rick released Gedge and was through the door in one long bound. “Don’t even twitch, sonny!” he said darkly, leveling his blaster at the startled guard.
The others swarmed through the doors after him, Hosato roughly dragging Gedge with them. Rick relieved the guard of his blaster as Sasha turned her attention to the man in the jumpsuit.
“I’ll ask once,” she announced. “Who or what are you?”
“I’m a… a taxi driver. That’s all!” the man stammered. “I—. I’ve got a ship standing by to fly some bigwigs to a conference on Theta. I’m nobody important. Really!”
Sasha laughed mirthlessly. “Nobody important. Hey, Hosato. It looks like you win. We’ve got a ship.”
“It’s about time we got lucky,” Hosato growled. “Where is it?”
A shrill beeping interrupted them. A communications light was flashing on the wall panel.
“Answer it!” Rick ordered, gesturing at the guard with his blaster.
The man licked his lips nervously, then complied. “Spaceport!” he said into the speaker.
“Seal the spaceport,” came a voice over the speaker. “Possible sabotage attempt in progress. They’ve got the chief as a hostage.”
The guard’s eyes darted to the group in front of him before replying. “Code Victor acknowledged.”
Rick sprang forward to shove him away from the panel, but it was too late. There wasn’t a member of their party that doubted the fact the guard’s signal had pinpointed their location.
“That tears it,” Hosato snarled. “Sasha. Is there any way they can stop our takeoff?”
“Only through the doors there,” she answered briskly.
“Well, we’ll just have to see how good their security system really is. You. Where is your ship and what kind is it?”
“Pad Eight,” the man responded. “It’s a Starblazer II. I Luxury Cruiser.”
“You’d better not be lying,” Sasha snarled.
“It’s there. So help me God. I don’t want any trouble.” The man seemed genuinely terror-struck.
“I can fly it,” Rick volunteered.
“Okay, check it out, fast!” Hosato ordered.
“Cover him, James,” Rick snapped, indicating the guard, and was gone, sprinting down the corridor.
“Gedge!” Hosato said, turning to the security chief. “Fm letting you go—”
“Wait a minute!” Sasha interrupted.
“Shut up, Sasha. Do you hear me, Gedge. I’m letting you go. The men we killed got in the way, but I don’t kill people for convenience. Listen to me, Gedge. Convince those bastards about what’s going on at Mc-. Crae. We weren’t lying. Convince them, Gedge, or on my family’s honor I’ll come back here and kill you, and all the guards in the galaxy won’t be able to stop me!”
“It’s here!” came Rick’s call from down the corridor.
“All right, get him out of here,” Hosato ordered, shoving Gedge into the arms of the waiting security guard. “And move it, before I change my mind. You. The pilot. You too. Move it!”
The pilot needed no additional urging as he hastily followed the others through the doors.
Hosato slammed his hand against the door controls, and they hissed shut, sealing the spaceport against their pursuers.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, starting down the corridor after Rick.
“Hosato,” Sasha said, overtaking him. “Sometime we’re going to have a few words about letting Gedge go.”
“It’s the only chance we have of convincing Raven-steel—”
They both spun at the sound of blasters behind them. The hounds were trying to burn their way through the airlocks.
“Come on, James!” Hosato urged, and the three of them sprinted for the ship.
- * -
“You can’t count on Ravensteel to do anything,” Sasha insisted. “Even if they believe Gedge, which is doubtful, they won’t lift a finger. Why should they?”
Hosato sighed. This argument had been going nonstop since they lifted off from Grunbecker’s Planet. He thought it was getting circular, but couldn’t be sure. Lack of sleep was making his mind fuzzy.
“Look, Sasha—” he began wearily.
“Say, I hate to interrupt,” Rick interrupted through the open door to the pilot’s compartment, “but where are we going?”
“What was that, Rick?” Hosato blinked.
“I said, where are we going. I want to get this baby on autopilot and join the brawl. I’ve got a couple thoughts on the subject myself.”
Hosato hadn’t really given any thought to their destination. His main concern had been getting away from Griinbecker’s. Still, everyone seemed to be looking at him for a decision.
“I don’t know,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Pick the nearest free spaceport. We can go our separate ways from there.”
“Just like that!” Sasha shouted. “Go our separate ways. Just turn our backs on the whole mess and pretend it never happened.”
“What do you want us to do?” Hosato exploded. “We barely got out of there alive. If your whole security setup and guard force can’t stop 'em, we sure can’t.”
“If we don’t, who will?” She glared back.
“Hold your fire. I’m coming in!” Rick popped in from the pilot’s compartment and stood grinning at them.
“Now that I’ve successfully set foot in no-man’s land, there are a few observations I’d like to make.” He began to pace up and down the lounge, adopting the mock characteristics of a lecturer.
“First of all, Sasha’s right when she says we have to do something. The robots that massacred everybody at Mc. Crae have to be stopped, and we can’t rely on anyone else to do the job. Remember, we didn’t believe what was happening ourselves until it was too late and we were in the middle of it. I don’t see any way anyone else is going to be convinced of the danger until it threatens them directly, and then again it will be too late.”
The mechanic paused and pointed a dramatic finger at Hosato.
“On the other hand, our ace superspy here is right, too. There isn’t much we can do.”
“Then we’re at an impasse,” Hosato observed. “We have to do something, but we can’t do anything. The odds are against us.”
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of expert at beating long odds,” Sasha probed. “Hell, a while back you were all set to take on that same airtight security system single-handed.”
“And now, between Sasha and me, you’ve got a ready pool of information as to what the security layout is and what makes the machines tick,” Rick added.
Hosato stared at the floor. The others remained silent, letting him turn the facts over in his mind. Finally he sighed and shook his head.
“No. It still won’t work.” he announced. “There’s one big problem no one seems ready to face. We don’t know what happened back there. Until we know what went wrong, we don’t know for sure what we’re up against. Without that little piece of information, any plan for a counterattack would be suicidal.”
The trio sat silently, each lost in their own thoughts.
“Wait a minute!” Rick exclaimed.
“What is it?” Sasha asked, but the mechanic was gone, disappearing through the door of the pilot’s compartment.
He was back in a moment, brandishing a sheaf of papers in his hand.
“Do either of you speak computer?” he asked eagerly.
He dumped the papers in Hosato’s lap, who bent to examine them. The papers were covered with what appeared to be typed mathematical notations interspersed with word fragments.
“What are they?” he asked.
“You should know,” Rick replied smugly. “You gave 'em to me, back at the crawler bay, when you carried Sasha in.”
“And you’ve been carrying them all this time?”
<
br /> Hosato vaguely remembered the incident, but was astounded the mechanic still had the documents in his possession after all they had been through.
“Yep,” Rick announced proudly. “Had 'em stashed inside my shirt. The guards who searched me at Ravensteel looked at 'em but didn’t figure they were important enough to take away from me.”
“For the benefit of the unenlightened,” Sasha interrupted sarcastically, “what is it you’ve got there?”
“It’s a copy of the most recent entries to the computer-monitor file,” Rick informed her. “The guys were going over it at the end there, trying to figure out what went wrong and how to fix it.”
“I hate to admit this,” Hosato said, “but I don’t know what that is or what it means.”
Rick looked a bit distressed, but answered him. “Everything that’s input into the central control computer passes through the monitor file… every program change, addition, request, everything. If we’re right and Turner did something that created a new logic system in the robots, there should be a record of it here.”
“I can’t help you there,” Sasha interjected. “What I don’t know about computers could fill a library.”
“Same here,” Rick admitted. “I was hoping one of you…”
His voice trailed off as he noticed Hosato’s frenzied activity. Hosato had scavenged a pencil from the depths of the bar and was busily scribbling something on the back of one of the sheets.
“Rick!” he said, handing the mechanic the paper. “Set a course for those coordinates.”
“Where are we going?” Rick asked, studying the sheet.
“To visit a friend of mine,” Hosato replied. “He builds and programs custom robots. Let’s see if he can decipher this mess.”
“Now you’re talking,” Rick said, brightening noticeably.
“Whoa. Don’t get your hopes up yet,” Hosato cautioned. “We don’t know yet if he’ll be able to find anything in that file. Even if he can, we’ve got to come up with a plan of action we all agree with, and that includes… say, where is James, anyway?”
Rick smiled and pointed to the back of the lounge. James was curled up on one of the luxurious sofas, fast asleep. Cradled in his arms like a teddy bear were Hosato’s dueling epees.
“I think the kid has the right idea,” Rick observed. “We could all do with some sleep. There are half a dozen cabins there in back. Take your pick.” “What about you?” Hosato asked. “I’ll be doing the same as soon as I get this new course fed into the autopilot.” He disappeared into the pilot’s compartment once more.
Hosato found himself staring at James’s sleeping form.
“Leave him,” Sasha said softly at his elbow. “He’ll be all right there, and he’ll wake up if you try to move him.”
“I guess you’re right,” Hosato acknowledged. “You know, Rick is quite a guy.”
“Qualified to operate and repair a wide variety of heavy machinery, including space transports shows a high degree of dedication when it comes to completing assignments, but displays little or no leadership ability seems content in current position not currently considered for advancement,” Sasha recited. “You know, until all this, he was just another personnel report on my desk. Funny how you can know a person so well and not really know nun at all.”
“I know what you mean,” Hosato admitted. “Until things blew up back there, he was just another person to pump for information. Now…”
His voice trailed off into silence.
“It must be a lonely way to…”
Sasha started to lay a hand on his arm as she spoke and succeeded only in waving her stump in the air. She stared at it for a moment, then turned away abruptly.
“Sasha…” Hosato said, moving to her side.
“Leave me alone!” she whispered, turning to keep her back to him.
“Sasha. It doesn’t matter,” he insisted.
“I don’t want your pity,” she snarled, and started to stalk away.
Hosato caught her before she had taken three steps.
“I’m not offering pity,” he said softly. “I’m offering me. Now, if you’re not interested, say so. But don’t blame it on your arm.”
Then she was in his arms, crying against his chest. He gently walked her down the corridor to the cabins.
What the Hungarian’s real name was, nobody knew. He used a wide array of aliases when signing various documents, and in conversation, he responded to a variety of nicknames.
Some said he broke off a brilliant career with the corporations to start his own business; others, that the corporations, stole his business away from him and he started a new one out of spite. The Hungarian had a small shop in a teeming city on a backwater planet — but his reputation was known in that part of the galaxy.
Whether he started rich or if he built his business to the point where he was wealthy was inconsequential. What mattered was the current situation, and currently he could and did pick and choose his jobs, accepting only those that were immensely expensive or particularly challenging.
Hosato had been referred to the Hungarian when searching for someone to build a fencing robot for him, and the two had become fast friends. Not that they were particularly close, for Hosato’s profession did not allow confidants. Because of that, the Hungarian’s stoic refusal to ask questions of a personal nature endeared him to Hosato more than anything else. As an example, they had known each other for five years after Suzi’s construction was complete before Hosato had hesitantly mentioned to the Hungarian that his talents included sabotage and that he would appreciate any business that could be steered his way. When this fact was formally mentioned, the Hungarian immediately produced not one, but three clients for Hosato. Apparently he had had his suspicions all along, probably from the “special construction” that went into Suzi, but had refrained from seeking clarification or confirmation until Hosato broached the subject himself.
Hosato was reluctant to face him with the news of Suzi’s demise, but he needn’t have worried. The Hungarian greeted them upon their arrival with his usual expansive welcome and was introduced to Sasha, Rick, and James without once commenting on Suzi’s absence. In fact, the subject was not even broached until later over drinks, after they had briefed the Hungarian on the events at Mc. Crae and the problem at hand.
When they had finished their tale, he sat silently puffing on his pipe for several minutes before responding.
“You know, Hosato,” he said at last, “if yon hadn’t brought along a brace of witnesses for your yarn, I’dd think this was all an elaborate excuse for losing one of the best robots I’ve ever built.”
“I know it sounds impossible—” Sasha began.
The Hungarian waved a hand of dismissal at her.
“When you’ve worked with machines as long as I have,” he declared, “you learn nothing is impossible — highly improbable, perhaps, but not impossible.”
“Can you read these?” Rick asked, eagerly producing his sheaf of papers. “It’s a copy of the last entries to the central Computer-. Monitor file,” the mechanic announced proudly. “We were hoping you might be able to tell from these what went wrong.”
“Not so fast.” The Hungarian exhaled a long stream of pipe smoke. “It’s too soon for detail. Let’s approach this problem one step at a time. First of all, what is the basic problem?”
“Come on, Tinker,” Hosato groaned. “The problem is that robots are killing people.”
“Wrong.” The Hungarian pointed his pipe stem at Hosato. “The problem is that the Mc. Crae complex is producing robots that are killing people. That makes it a problem with the computer, and not a malfunctioning of the robots themselves.”
“That’s right,” Rick asserted. “We think something went wrong with the programming when Turner, James’s father, was trying to design a new security-robot system. Probably something that bypassed the 'no-kill' base programming.”
The Hungarian shook his head. “It’s not that simple. We’re talkin
g about an 'activity program.' That means, in addition to capacity, it needs motivation.”
It was clear that the Hungarian had risen to the bait and was rapidly becoming enmeshed in what to him was a puzzle of electronics and computer logic. Hosato was glad to see him involved, though the conversation rapidly became too complex and technical for laymen such as himself to follow.
When James got up and wandered off into the small kitchen and no one noticed, Hosato decided to follow suit. The other three were huddled over the monitor log copies and didn’t even look up as he left.
James was pouring himself a glass of pop and looked up as Hosato joined him. He brightened noticeably.
“Could you pour two more of those while you’re at it?” Hosato asked.
“Sure. No problem.”
As the boy hurried about his errand, Hosato pondered the best way to approach the subject on his mind.
“Say, James,” he said at last. “We haven’t had much time to talk since the blowup at Mc. Crae.”
“Talk about what?” James asked, passing his friend the glass of soft drink and perching on the counter.
“About your future, mostly,” Hosato responded pointedly.
“I thought that was all settled,” James replied innocently. “I’m going with you.”
“It’s not that simple, and you know it. Look, James,” Hosato began. “You don’t know anything about me or how I live. Now, I don’t know what kind of romantic notion you have in your head about the kind of person I am, but it’s not a life-style you enter into casually.”
“I’m not doing this casually,” James protested. “I asked you to take me along with you before things went bad at the complex before Dad was killed, too. Besides, I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“That’s what I mean!” Hosato pounced on the phrase.
Without realizing it, he began to pace back and forth in the cramped kitchen.
“James, there are lots of things you could do. You’re bright. You’re energetic. You’ve got guts. And you’ve got a whole lot of options before you. Don’t be stampeded into any one life just because you feel there’s no other choice. Particularly my kind of life. Now I don’t mean to sound negative on all this, but I’ve been traveling the star lanes most of my life and I’ve seen this time and time again. Men and women working at jobs they hate, their whole lives just a drone existence, all with the same story, 'I didn’t have any other choice.' Well, by God, you do have choices. Life should be a series of choices. Some lock you in, a few lock you out, and then there are others that open more doors. Making good choices demands brains, some luck, and a whole lot of guts. And most of all, it takes that something that makes us human the will to make ourselves better. James, don’t lock yourself into the first chance that you get. And that’s what this life will do. Don’t be looking back ten or fifteen years past the star lanes wishing you hadn’t committed to something you can’t get out of. James, don’t make choices like a programmed robot!”
Mirror Friend, Mirror Foe Page 12
