Mirror Friend, Mirror Foe

by Robert Asprin

  “My grandfather,” Hosato motioned desperately, “I would ask that you keep an open mind on this. You yourself have said the strength of a law is in its flexibility.”

  “As to your mechanical foes”—the image continued ignoring him—“if you insist on involving yourself further in this affair, remember your training. If faced by an enemy possessing superior strength and speed, seek a way to use that strength and speed to your advantage. Do not directly oppose, but yield and add your own strength and speed to that of your enemy to create a force greater than that directed against you.”

  Hosato paid only partial attention to the image’s advice. The rest of his concentration was focused on the problem confronting him. His grandfather would not reconsider or even hear additional arguments on the subject of Sasha and James. He simply dictated that one of them must die, then dismissed the matter.

  “I shall remember your advice, my grandfather,” Hosato signaled.

  “Do you have any further questions or need for counsel?” the fingers asked.

  Hosato thought for a moment.

  “How many members of the family have been excommunicated in the past?” he asked finally.

  There was a pause before the image’s hands moved in answer.

  “I do not know,” it said. “If a member is so banished, all references and records of him are stricken from the family history.”

  Hosato thought for a moment more.

  “I have no further questions,” he signaled at last.

  “I fear our time for conversation draws to an end my son,” the image said, returning to the verbal line of communication. “You must contact us more often, neh. In the meantime, continue to conduct yourself in a manner your family can take pride in. Sayonara.”

  “I will remember, my grandfather. Sayonara and domo!” Hosato replied, and watched as the image faded to nothingness.

  He remained motionless for long minutes after contact was broken, lost in thought.

  Could he do it. Could he coldly kill either Sasha or James to preserve the curtain of secrecy around the Hosato family. Or should he openly defy his father, and in doing so face banishment from his family?

  He tried to weigh the consequences of each action in his mind, but they merged and ran together La a confused kaleidoscope of indecision.

  Shimatta. He had made a mistake—a big one. The only question in his mind was whether the mistake was taking James and Sasha into his confidence or in seeking his grandfather’s advice and approval.

  Finally he shook his head. Perhaps Sasha was right. It was foolish to consider the future until it was known if there would be a future. There was every probability the upcoming mission against the Mc. Crae robots would solve the problem for him. If not, he could make his decision then.

  He rose and went to join the others.

  “That’s some complex!” the Hungarian stated enthusiastically to the group, once they had reconvened. “Do you think someday my little workshop here will grow up to be like that?”

  Hosato was in no mood for humorous banter. “Come on,” he interrupted. “We’ve been waiting for your report.”

  The Hungarian waved his drink at him. “And you can’t wait another five minutes. Not even for a few social pleasantries?” he protested. “I’ve been back only fifteen minutes, and you—”

  “Please…?” Sasha asked gently.

  “The impatience of youth!” The Hungarian sighed. “Very well, my dear. For you, I’ll start.”

  For effect, he paused to light his pipe, his eyes dancing mischievously at Hosato’s impatient fidgeting.

  “First off,” he began finally, “I wasn’t rushing my report, because I don’t have that much to add. As might be suspected from the Ravensteel reaction, tour groups are still being processed through Mc. Crae without any noticeable change. There are no humans in sight, but it’s my understanding there never were on these tours. Everything is functioning normally, and if I didn’t trust you all implicitly, I’d swear nothing such as you described ever took place at the complex.”

  He paused to relight his pipe.

  “Believe me, Tinker—” Hosato began.

  The Hungarian silenced him with a vague wave.

  “I believe, I believe!” he said. “I was talking about what the normal eye would see. Fortunately, I have better-than-normal eyes. You know those cameras and sensors you told me to watch for?”

  He cocked an eyebrow at Sasha, who nodded.

  “Well, they’ve been embellished. They each have new little doodads attached. I couldn’t tell for sure what they were without close examination, but I have a strong feeling they aren’t room deodorizers.”

  “Blasters?” Hosato asked.

  The Hungarian shrugged. “Like I say, I couldn’t tell without close examination, and somehow I didn’t think it would be wise to attempt it. Then for laughs I tried the Employment Office and was politely informed by the desk-robot there were no positions available at this time.”

  The group sat in silence for several long minutes digesting what they had heard, each lost in his own thoughts.

  “Okay,” Hosato said at last, “Rick and Sasha have put together floor plans and schematics as to what we’re up against at the Mc. Crae complex. What’s your appraisal of the situation?”

  The Hungarian blew a long plume of smoke from his pipe before replying.

  “You’re facing a highly automated manufacturing complex with multiple security devices. Unlike normal electronic detection devices, these are armed and it is assumed they will fire on any detected threat to the complex. In addition, there is an unknown number of mobile robots guarding the complex against intrusion, also armed. The key to the whole mess is here.”

  He paused to tap the indicated spot on the layout drawings with the stem of his pipe.

  “The Central Computer Building. The computer housed here controls the entire operation; the security scanners, the mobile killer modules, and the manufacturing concern producing the killer modules. Correct its programming or destroy it completely, and the whole complex goes down.”

  “Wait a minute,” Hosato interrupted. “Back up a little. Did you say we could stop the computer by correcting its programming?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do. It’s got to be easier than getting to the computer itself.”

  The Hungarian shook his head. “Not so fast. We can’t use just any terminal to change the programming. Tell him, Sasha.”

  “There are lots of terminals, Hosato, but only a handful that give you access to the program banks,” the former security chief informed him. “What’s more, it seems one of Turner’s precautions was to lock out the other program terminals. The only one we could use is the one in his office.”

  Hosato pulled the layout map toward him and scanned it to refresh his memory.

  “That’s still our best, bet,” he declared. “Compared to the route to the computer building, reaching Turner’s office is the yellow brick road.”

  “No it isn’t,” Sasha corrected. “The terminal in Turner’s office won’t help us at all.”

  “But you said—”

  “I said it was the only terminal that could change the base programs. Unfortunately, we can’t use it.”

  “Why not?” Hosato asked.

  “Because of the idiot voice lock he has on it,” she snarled. “I was fighting him through channels trying to get it removed for security reasons when this mess blew up. Now he’s dead and there’s no way we can bypass the lock.”

  Hosato experienced a moment of frustration; then he quelled it. With effort he forced himself to abandon the hope of using the terminal and concentrate on the Central Computer Building. If that was where they would have to attack, that was that. Railing against facts didn’t change them.

  The others waited in silence as he pored over the floor plans, respectful of an expert at work. Time and time again he checked a measurement or an angle, then shook his head.

&n
bsp; “I’ll have to think on this overnight,” he announced at last. “There’s got to be a way.”

  “Any ideas at all?” Rick asked.

  Hosato shook his head. “Frankly, right now it looks impossible. I can’t see any way two people can crack that layout.”

  “Two?” Sasha queried.

  In response, Hosato cocked an eyebrow at the Hungarian, who cleared his throat uncomfortably.

  “What your friend here is trying to say, Sasha, is that you shouldn’t count on me for a fight,” he said. “You’re welcome to whatever equipment or weapons I can supply, and I’ll advise you as best I can, but I’m simply not a man of action. I’m sorry if you think less of me for that, but that’s the way I am. When the actual mission starts, I’m a cheering section and not much more.”

  “That’s all right,” Sasha assured him. “You’ve been more than enough help already.”

  “Say um Hosato,” Rick interjected. “Maybe this isn’t the time to bring it up, but Sasha and I have been talking, and…”

  “Yes?” Hosato prompted.

  “Well, we think that she should go along with you on this mission. Even with her disability she can shoot better than I can, and—”

  “—and she can’t pilot a ship, while you can,” Hosato finished for him. “I know. I’ve been figuring 'all along that Sasha would be my backup.”

  The Hungarian shot him a look of surprise and suspicion. Hosato ignored it and continued.

  “That’s why I’m trying to come up with a plan for two. The Hungarian stays here, and you pilot the ship, which leaves Sasha and me for the assault. By my count, that’s two.”

  “Three,” said James, breaking his silence. “I’m going too.”

  “James—” Hosato began.

  “I’m going,” the boy said firmly. “My father started all this, and I’m going to help finish it. Besides, I can beat the voice lock.”

  “What?” Sasha exploded into life.

  “I said, I can beat the voice lock,” James stated calmly. “It’s keyed to open for either of two voices. One was Dad’s, the other’s mine.”

  “Sasha, can we use a recording of his voice to do the job?” Hosato asked.

  “No,” the boy answered. “The lock involves a series of three random questions that have to be answered within a given time span. It was designed that way to prevent someone using a recorded voice to force the lock.”

  Sasha looked at the Hungarian. “Could you teach him what to say to change the program once he springs the lock?”

  He sighed. “I could try, but it’s a lot to teach him in two weeks.”

  “Why 'two weeks'?” Rick interrupted.

  The Hungarian slapped his forehead in mock astonishment.

  “That’s just like me!” he announced viciously. “Here I’ve been worrying about it all the way back here, and then I forget to show you.”

  He rummaged in his pocket for a moment and fished out a folded piece of paper.

  “Here,” he said, passing it to Rick. “Read this. Mc. Crae Enterprises is announcing its revolutionary new line of security robots. According to that release, demonstrator sets will be available for shipment to interested customers within three weeks.”

  “And it will take us a week just to get there,” Rick moaned. “Hosato…”

  He stopped. Hosato was sitting with the layout maps in his hands, a vague smile on his face.

  “What is it?” Rick asked.

  “I believe the man has a plan,” the Hungarian observed.

  “You’re right.” Hosato smiled. “Just an outline right now, but I think the details can be worked out. Sasha, you and James are going in with a tour group. Once you’re in the complex, you get to Turner’s office, activate the terminal, and change the program.”

  “And what will you be doing in the meantime?” the former security chief asked archly.

  “Me?” Hosato’s smile broadened. “I’ll be creating a diversion.”

  Hosato watched the Ravensteel robots from his chosen place of concealment in a cluster of boulders up the slope from the ore vein. For nearly five hours now he had sat motionless, studying the machines as they labored at their task.

  Below him the giant machines gouged and sliced monstrous hunks of ore from the exposed vein, lifting them into the waiting transport machines. As each transport in its turn was filled, it turned and began its trek back to the Ravensteel complex, another lurching forward to take its place at the fill point.

  From his vantage point Hosato could see the long, broken line of transports trundling over the horizon, and its sister line of transports returning empty for another load.

  “The tour ship is approaching,” Rick’s voice came in his ear.

  “Acknowledged,” Hosato replied.

  The Hungarian had been true to his word. Though not accompanying them, he had been more than generous in providing them with equipment. The surface suit Hosato was currently wearing was a vast improvement over the bulky affair he had tried to don in the Mc. Crae sand crawler. Its built-in communications system allowed him to maintain constant contact with Rick, waiting in the ship, while its close fit allowed him a freedom of movement he would not have believed possible in a surface suit. Most important, he could wear his invisibility suit over it.

  Having received Rick’s signal, Hosato broke the seal of his Ninja suit. For this job, he wanted to be seen.

  On the ground beside him were two tripod-mounted rifle blasters, more gifts from the Hungarian. Hosato picked one up and carefully eased it forward. The robots were still rumbling about their programmed tasks, unaware of his presence as he chose his first target and settled the cross hairs of his weapon on it.

  He gently depressed the two firing lugs, and the weapon responded, a pencil-thin beam of energy darting forth, momentarily locking marksman and target together. At the other end of the beam, his target robot, the one farthest away of those visible to him, ground to a sudden halt.

  Hosato waited several seconds, then triggered the weapon twice more in rapid succession. His second target, a robot at the ore face, imitated the first, jolting to rigid immobility. The third, loading a large chunk of ore onto a transport, went amok. Lurching forward, it rolled over the waiting transport unit, crushing it like a toy, and headed blindly into a rock formation. There, its forward momentum stopped, it began to slowly dig itself into the side of the abutment.

  Hosato did not pause to watch the results of his marksmanship. He was busy firing sporadically but carefully into the robots below him. Then he rose and stepped from his hiding place, standing boldly in the open as he surveyed his handiwork.

  Hosato smiled at the carnage. Nearly fifty robots had been seriously disabled or destroyed by his assault. About half a dozen robots still partially functioned. To be specific, though their movement might be impaired, their internal units that maintained communications with the central coordinating computer back at the Ravensteel complex were still fully active, as were their camera units. He had listened well when Rick outlined the operational modules of ore robots and their internal arrangement.

  Terribly sloppy, instigating an attack and then failing to complete the carnage, particularly failing to break the enemy’s communication chain. It’s just the sort of blunder you would expect from a professional security guard suddenly assigned to play soldier.

  There was even one fully operational robot down there. It was currently sitting far back in a shadowy ravine watching him. He couldn’t see it, but he had noted its retreat and deliberately allowed it to occur.

  Aside from ensuring that data of his appearance would be relayed to Ravensteel, it was a good sign. The robot’s self-preserving maneuver, a clear break in pattern from its normal mining activity, indicated that someone or something at Ravensteel was feeding it new instructions. Whether it was the central coordinating computer or one of its human monitors did not matter. His attack had been noted, and counter-measures were already underway.

  Smiling, he turned an
d headed over the crest of the ridge toward his rendezvous with the ship and with Rick. Mission accomplished. Ravensteel had experienced an attack on their operations by an obviously hostile force. Now, who on Griinbecker’s Planet would qualify as a hostile force. When the retaliation strike came, whom would it be directed against?

  Hosato’s smile broadened. The robots at Mc. Crae were about to experience a diversionary attack that would be impossible to ignore.

  “Still nothing?” Hosato asked anxiously, peering over Rick’s shoulder at the bank of instruments.

  He was totally unfamiliar with the sensor system and ignorant of how to read the dials and wave patterns, but the action gave him a much-needed activity.

  “If there was, I’d tell you!” Rick snapped. “Now, will you quit asking me the same question every thirty seconds?”

  “I don’t understand it,” Hosato said, shaking his head. “They should have done something by now.”

  Their shirk was concealed a short distance from the Mc. Crae complex. Inside, the two men waited to monitor the Ravensteel counterattack, an attack that had failed to develop.

  “Maybe they recognized you,” Rick suggested. “Sasha and I both told you it was a mistake to leave Gedge alive.”

  “And all of us agreed that if I were recognized, they’d assume I was acting under orders from Mc. Crae,” Hosato retorted. “Either way, it adds up to Mc. Crae as the target for their retaliation.”

  “I bet they went after the Mc. Crae ore robots,” Rick said firmly. “Punishment equal to the crime or some such. 'They hit our miners, we hit their miners!' Just because they come after Mc. Crae doesn’t mean they’ll attack the main complex.”

  “If they hit the ore robots, they’re in for a rude surprise,” Hosato said grimly. “Mc. Crae robots shoot back. When the humans of Ravensteel get fired on by robots, they’ll have to believe our story. Once our 'killer-robot' report is accepted, Ravensteel has to attack the complex just out of self-preservation.”

  “But will they do it today?” Rick argued. “Corporations take forever to make decisions, and even longer to act on them. That’s assuming, of course, they get the report at all. What happens if no one survives the attack on the ore robots?”