Chapter Eleven
BEAM TORE AT THE WIZARD, THEN THROUGH HIM and at the far wall, showering dust across the smear of blood on the floor, burning for a long, long moment before Slant could resume control and release the pressure of his finger on the trigger.
He looked with disgust at the mangled corpse and the blood that drenched the table. "Was that necessary?"
'Termination of enemy personnel seemed advisable. Gravitational anomaly representing enemy weapons research activity posed possible threat to cyborg unit and success of mission."
"You didn't have to be so thorough! Look at this mess!"
"Control of cyborg unit by override through relay is imprecise. Margin of error must be compensated for."
"Oh, hell." Slant slumped on his stool, staring at the motionless lizard, its green hide spattered with darkening red.
"Delay inadvisable."
"What am I supposed to be doing, then?"
'Transportation of corpse to ship is recommended action."
"What's the hurry?"
"Risk of discovery increases with time. Also, brain tissue may deteriorate."
"Oh, that's just wonderful. How am I supposed to get this bloody mess out of the city?"
"Possible course of action: Ship lands in city, destroying resistance and interference, allowing cyborg unit to transport corpse to ship without interference. Possible course of action: Cyborg unit departs city on foot, destroying resistance and interference with available weapons. Possible course of action: Cyborg unit conceals corpse and departs city on foot."
"The first two are stupid."
"First and second courses of action require loss of mission secrecy and involve open combat. Third course of action has lowest probability of success."
"It does? Why?"
"High probability of detection by guard at checkpoint in city wall."
It took Slant a second to realize the computer was referring to the city gate. "Even if he detected me, though, I could just shoot him and run for it."
"Affirmative."
"Then that's the best thing to do, right?"
"Affirmative."
"Sometimes you're pretty stupid."
The computer didn't answer.
Slant rose and began looking around the shop for something he could use to conceal Kurao's body. He considered, but dismissed, the velvet draperies; he doubted that someone carrying a large bundle wrapped in velvet would go unnoticed. After a few moments of searching, he found a roll of something like canvas at the back of one shelf; if there were enough of the stuff, it would be perfect.
He unrolled it on a part of the floor that had not received much of the spraying blood, and decided that the size might be adequate. It was fortunate that Kurao hadn't been any larger than he was.
Slant walked behind the corpse, which had fallen forward against the table, and then froze; he had heard a noise from the front of the shop, as if someone had entered through the bead curtain.
He waited, motionless. If someone was in the shop, he or she would call out for the proprietor, and when no answer was forthcoming, do one of two things: leave, or look in the back. If the newcomer left, there was no problem; if he looked in the back, Slant might have to kill him. He waited for the call for Kurao.
It didn't come, and Slant decided that either he had imagined the sound or someone had brushed the.
bead curtain without entering. He stopped and pulled Kurao's body back upright; it took an effort, as the drying blood had adhered to the table, and the old man bad been heavier than he looked. He started to pick the body up by the armpits, to dump it onto the canvas.
The velvet draperies swung aside and a young woman entered.
She took a step into the room, then saw a stranger holding Kurao's dead body and stopped; her mouth opened, but she did not scream. Instead a small gasping squeak emerged.
Recovering his composure first, and wanting the psychological advantage of being the first to speak, Slant demanded, "What are you doing here?"
As he spoke, he looked her over; she was small, both short and thin, wearing a gray robe, with light-brown hair and wide-set green eyes in a heart-shaped face. He could almost certainly kill her with a single blow if necessary;
she looked frail, delicate, and gentle. He knew that appearances could be deceptive but was quite sure she posed no threat other than the possibility of screaming and attracting more dangerous foes. Her expression was childlike, more surprised and confused than horrified by the • sight of the bloody corpse.
"I-I live here."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Ahnao; I'm Kurao's apprentice." Her gaze had moved down from Slant's face to Kurao's, and on down to the gaping hole in the wizard's chest; her expression was gradually changing from surprise to shock and horror.
"Don't scream," Slant ordered her.
She looked up at his face again, away from the wound. "He's dead, isn't he?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"I don't know; I thought you might be able to tell me."
She shook her head. "Who are you?"
"My name is Slant. I came in and found him like this."
There was a moment's silence; Ahnao looked down at the corpse again, then automatically looked away.
Her expression had change to horror and disgust; Slant watched carefully. The danger of a scream seemed to have passed.
Then her expression changed yet again, to simple surprise. "What's that lizard doing?" she asked.
Slant looked down at the table; the newly animated lizard was moving, walking jerkily across the table, nodding as it went. "I don't know," he said. "Is it yours?"
"No. It's an automaton, a new one. He must have just finished it."
"But wouldn't it die when he did?" Slant was genuinely surprised and curious.
"Unless he'd turned it over to someone, I think it would. I wonder whose it is? No one's ordered a lizard recently—not that I know of, anyway."
"When did you leave?"
"Oh, around noon, I think."
"Someone might have come in who wanted one in a hurry."
"I suppose. What's it doing?"
Slant looked at the lizard again, and saw that it was scratching a groove in the dried blood with its lower jaw. . A wave of uneasiness washed over him; he suspected that he was about to be identified as Kurao's murderer, but if he took any action to prevent it, that would also be sure to condemn him.
The lizard shaped a single shaky letter, then stumbled and collapsed. The letter was F.
Slant did not understand that at all; he had expected an S.
"Query: Automaton's intelligence."
"Hell, I don't know. What does F stand for?"
"Information insufficient."
The girl was looking at the letter curiously. "F," she said. "Do you mean Furinar?"
The lizard moved its head, as if trying to nod.
"Query: Meaning of term 'Furinar.'"
"I don't know, either." Aloud, he asked Ahnao, "What's Furinar?"
"He's a friend of ours. Do you think I should try to contact him?"
"Is he a wizard?"
"Yes."
"Maybe he's the killer."
"Oh, I don't think so!"
"Recommend termination of subject 'Ahnao.' Further delay inadvisable."
"No, wait a minute; I want to find out more about this Furinar. He might be a threat. Also, do we really want to leave another corpse around to attract attention? And what about this damn lizard?"
"Continue action."
"Why don't you think he's the killer? Why else would the lizard do that?"
"I don't know. Maybe you're right. Let me contact him." Her eyes suddenly became unfocused, gazing off into infinity; Slant reached for his snark, then changed his mind. It might already be too late. He guessed that she was using some sort of telepathic communication.
"Gravitational anomaly representing enemy weapons research activity occurring in immediate vicinity of cyborg unit. Recommend immediate termination of subject 'Ahnao.'"
"No, wait; she's not attacking us, and I still want to find out what's going on. Besides, by now she may have alerted this Furinar character. She might be useful as a hostage."
"Continue action."
The computer was being unusually agreeable, Slant thought; that worried him.
The girl came out of her apparent trance and immediately turned as if to run; Slant moved faster, however, and grabbed her wrist before she could take a step. She struggled, and he threw his other arm around her neck, restraining her effectively.
"What's going on?" he asked. "Why did you try to leave?"
"Furinar says you killed Kurao!"
As Slant had suspected, wizards apparently were telepathic. "How does he know? Was he here?'
"No, Kurao sent him a message; you were threatening him with a death machine from the Bad Times, and you killed him!"
"Why did the lizard write an F?"
"Kurao turned it over to Furinar just before he died; Furinar wanted to contact me, but I wasn't listening, so he used the lizard."
"Where is Furinar now?"
"He's on his way here; he'll be here any minute. Let me go!"
"Damn!"
"Recommend immediate evasive action."
"No, they can track me, the way they did in Teyzha. I can use the girl as a hostage, though."
"Affirmative. Query: Possibility of handling corpse in addition to hostage."
"Oh, hell. I'd forgotten about that." The girl twisted in his grip, trying to free herself; he tightened his hold, not because that made it any more secure but as a warning. "Hold still. You were right, you know, I did kill Kurao; if you don't do exactly what you're told, I'll kill you, too. Do you understand?"
She nodded.
"Good." He looked at the corpse and decided there was no way he could possibly carry it while holding Ahnao and a weapon. If he didn't get it back to the ship, though, he would have to kill another wizard for the computer to dissect. An idea struck him. "Do you need the whole corpse? Would just the brain do?"
"Information insufficient; however, brain alone would probably be sufficient Furthermore, brain and corpse are expendable, as others are available."
"Good." He loosened his hold on Ahnao and informed her, Tm going to let go of you. Don't run away, don't do anything suspicious, and I won't hurt you. Remember, I'm much faster and stronger than you are, and I have weapons from the Bad Times. Do you understand?"
She nodded again, and he released her. She stood, trembling, just where she was, her head turned to watch him.
He took the snark from his pocket and grabbed a firm bold on Kurao's ear with his free hand; he wished the old man had had hair, as it would have provided a better grip. Then, with the snark set on a fine beam, he cut through the cadaver's neck, leaving the severed head hanging from his hand by its ear.
Ahnao moaned and sank to her knees. Slant ignored her as she vomited onto the floor; he understood her reaction, as he felt none too well himself. He had no time to be sick, however, as he wrapped the head in canvas, making as neat a parcel as he could, being careful not to get blood on the outside of the wrapping. He found string on a nearby shelf and tied the bundle closed as best he could manage. Just as he finished he heard footsteps and the rattle of the bead curtain; in an instant he had dragged Ahnao to her feet, one arm around her neck, holding the package by the string, and his other hand pointing the snark at her head. She cringed, trying to back away from the bundle and simultaneously avoid the snark.
The drapes parted, and a tall, thin man wearing the black robe of a wizard appeared. Gray hair reached to his shoulders, and he gazed at the cyborg from watery blue eyes.
"Hello, Slant," the newcomer said.
"Hello, Furinar. Stay where you are. If you take another step toward me, I will kill Ahnao."
"You have a hostage."
"Yes."
"You told Kurao that protective spells can't stop that weapon."
"That's right. I can tell when you're using magic, too; if you try any, I'll kill her."
There was a moment of silence; the computer said, "Recommend immediate departure. Additional enemy personnel may be nearby."
"Just a moment." He looked Furinar in the eye and said, "You wizards can tell truth from lies. Listen, then. It's possible dial you could kill me, one way or another, but I suggest that you not try it. If I die, the demon that possesses me, a relic of the Bad Times, will destroy your entire city. If I reach my ship safely, with this package, I will let the girl go, unharmed, and I hope that I will be able to leave your world forever without harming anyone else."
"The package holds Kurao's head."
"That's right."
"What do you want it for?"
"The demon wants to learn how a wizard's brain differs from an ordinary one; it doesn't care if the wizard is alive or dead. Once it knows how magic works, we can leave here. Now let me go."
"I cannot stop you." The wizard stood aside, holding back the velvet drapery so that Slant could pass unhindered.
He prodded Ahnao forward with the snark, and the two of them marched past Furinar. When they reached the door of the shop, Slant took his arm from her neck and moved the snark to point at her back, making sure she knew it was still there. None of the three said anything further, and the two of them walked out onto the street
No one interfered as they made their way through the city streets; at the gate the watch simply stood aside and let them pass. Slant guessed that Furinar had contacted them somehow, perhaps through another wizard, and told them to do nothing that might have unpleasant results.
Once they were out of the city Slant relaxed slightly; he did not put the snark away, but carried it loose in his hand instead of keeping it pointed at the girl. Neither of them spoke; they had nothing to say to one another. Ahnao cast occasional wary glances at Slant, and several times he thought she was going to say something, perhaps ask a question, but she never did. She made no complaint as they walked, though she was obviously not accustomed to traveling such a distance on foot.
When they were a few kilometers from the city Slant glanced back and noticed specks hanging in the sky, following them; the computer confirmed his suspicion that Furinar had recruited other wizards, six in all, and that the seven were following nun at a distance. The seven were moving gravitational anomalies to the computer, of course, but Slant knew they were wizards.
They stayed well back, however, and Slant paid them no heed beyond glancing back every few moments to make sure they kept their distance.
Their presence did not seem to worry the computer, either; it made no suggestions or complaints.
Well after dark they arrived at the edge of the gully that bid the ship. Slant could not see it; he realized that the computer must have applied camouflage after he left. Either that or he had misjudged his own route.
"Where are you?" he asked.
There was a sudden blaze of light off to his right; the ship had turned on floodlights, illuminating the inside of its plastic covering. It had not used artificial vines this time, but a translucent plastic sheet the approximate color of young grass; with the floodlights on, it appeared as a huge irregular mass glowing an eerie green.
Ahnao gasped at the sight and stopped dead in her tracks. "What is it?"
"That's my ship."
"I thought it would be wood or metal; why is it green?"
"It's not, really; that's just the covering. I'll show you." He led the way down to the vessel, and after a little groping found an opening in the camouflage cover. He pulled the plastic aside, and white light poured out across the grass and sand of the gully's side.
Ahnao peered past him at the gleaming metal of the ship's wing, lit silver and green by the floodlight and the reflection from the plastic; she stared in wonder but balked when Slant urged her forward.
"I'm not going in there!"
Slant was annoyed but thought better of immediate argument. Instead, he asked the computer, "What's our situation?"
"Seven gravitational anomalies representing enemy action are approaching at an altitude of twenty meters at an approximate ground speed of five kilometers per hour. No other enemy activity detected in immediate area of ship. No overt hostile actions in progress."
"Do we still need a hostage?"
"Negative."
"Good." He let go of Ahnao's wrist, which he had grabbed when she stepped back from the opening, and told her, "All right, you can go."
"Query: Advisability of releasing hostage."
"You just said we don't need her!"
"Affirmative. Standard procedure calls for termination of enemy personnel in immediate vicinity of ship."
"Idiot machine! We're being watched by seven enemy wizards of unknown capabilities, and you want to antagonize them by killing a civilian and breaking my word?" Even as he said it, he realized that the computer might want exactly that; he had forgotten that it wanted to die. Perhaps it had allowed him to overrule so many suggestions lately because it hoped he'd get himself killed by taking less than •optimal courses of action; perhaps, on the other hand, it had made stupid suggestions hoping to get him killed when he followed them, and was forced to concede when presented with better options.
"Negative. Continue action."
"Right." He started toward the airlock but was stopped by Ahnao's voice.
"May I see inside?"
Exasperated, he turned back and said, "A moment ago you wouldn't go near it!" .
"I changed my mind."
"Enemy personnel are not permitted aboard."
"I know that!" He almost spoke that aloud but caught himself in time, and kept his voice calm as he said,
"No, I'm sorry, you may not see inside. Go home now."
"But it's dark!"
"What of it? You're a grown woman and an apprentice wizard, and there are seven of your friends a kilometer up the road. Now go away."
She said nothing further, but the expression on her face was that of a chastised puppy, hurt and sorrowful. Slant watched as she turned and walked a few paces back up the side of the gully, then turned himself, closing the plastic cover behind him, and climbed up onto the wing. The airlock slid open as he approached, lit from inside, and the floodlights shut off, plunging everything but the open port into darkness.
He entered the ship and tucked the snark into his vest pocket, safety on, glad to have the thing out of his hand at last. At the entrance to the control cabin he turned briefly aside and got the ship's surgical kit out of the medical locker; he also found a plastic dropcloth in a nearby supply cabinet In the control cabin he spread the dropcloth across the acceleration couch, then dumped the bundle he had carried from Awlmei on it. Blood had soaked through the canvas at the bottom, making a messy brownish stain.
"Prepare for launch."
The computer's interruption caught Slant by surprise. "Wait a minute," he said, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"Enemy personnel of unknown capabilities are in immediate vicinity of ship."
"Yes, but what will the acceleration do to this damn brain you made me bring back? Besides, what can they do to us without heavy weapons?"
"Information insufficient."
"What would acceleration do to ordinary unprotected brain tissue?"
"Damage would be minimal However, advisability of launch doubtful."
"Good. That's what I thought. Let's just stay here for the moment, then, and get this dissection over with, all right?"
"Affirmative."
"I just hope the damn thing hasn't already deteriorated too much." He unwrapped the bundle, revealing Kurao's severed head; a momentary revulsion overcame him, and he stepped back. When he had recovered, he opened the surgical kit, laid it out neatly, then found the direct-control cable and plugged it into his neck.
"Go ahead," he said.
The override came on; for once he didn't fight it Instead, he watched disinterestedly from a semitrance as the computer and his own hypnopedic medical training jointly controlled his hands, neatly removing the scalp and the top of the skull, and systematically disassembling and analyzing the brain within.
The process took a very long time; it was complicated enough to begin with, and was further slowed by the necessity of using both Slant's eyes and a high-magnification camera, as his eyes were no use at microscopic scale and the camera was not suitable for guiding his hands directly. The dissection was less than half completed when the first faltering took place; the scalpel slipped, destroying several cells.
Had Slant been fully conscious and under his own control, he couldn't have detected the error; it was microscopic. To the computer, however, working through the camera, it was glaringly obvious. A slip of that magnitude could be catastrophic in other situations. The override shut off.
Slant found himself holding a greasy scalpel, staring at a grisly gray and red mess. "What's wrong? Why did you stop?" he asked.
"An error was made. Query: Was any action taken by cyborg unit primary personality?"
"No, of course not; I couldn't have done anything it I wanted to, you know that. Hell, I couldn't even want to!"
"Affirmative. Warning: Evidence of computer malfunction. Request emergency maintenance check."
"Right." Frightened, Slant unplugged the cable from his neck and started toward the door of the cabin; the access panel for the computer's test circuits was in the main airlock to facilitate an emergency exit if something dangerously wrong should be found. Though the computer was a constant annoyance, he did not want it to fail; he depended on it, could not run the ship without it. Furthermore, if it was not seriously damaged, it might still be erratic and make mistakes, which might well mean that his life expectancy was nil.
He had not yet reached the door when an alarm beeped somewhere, and the computer informed him,
"Main drive has been shut down."
"What did you do that for?"
"There is no record of shut-down procedure for main drive on any inboard system. Possible explanations are spontaneous system failure or enemy action. There is no evidence of system failure."
"Oh, God," Slant muttered. The ship was going mad; there was something seriously wrong with it No other explanation made sense. He wondered whether it was worth the trouble to run a systems check, but no other course of action came to mind.
"Power drain is higher than normal. Reserve power level dropping."
That didn't make sense; even with the fusion drive shut down, the ship's energy cells should be fully charged and sufficient to run all systems for months—assuming there was no call for the ship's blasters and no attempt to restart the drive, as either of those would consume incredible amounts of power. "Are you sure? Double-check that."
"Affirmative. Reserve power level dropping."
Energy couldn't just disappear; it had to be going somewhere. "Trace the drain; something must be malfunctioning. Are the lasers in the drive drawing any power?" Even as he asked, he was almost to the airlock. He was fairly certain that part of the computer's regulating machinery must have gone berserk and lost contact with the main system; the test circuits should let him locate the problem. He hoped it wasn't too extensive.
The corridor lights dimmed. "Emergency power conservation measures in effect."
He reached the inner door of the lock; it did not slide out of his way. He realized that that must be part of the emergency measures, and began to crank it open manually.
"Power drain located. Power is being diverted from number three fusion-core laser through gravitational anomaly."
"What? Why didn't you spot that before?" He kept cranking; even if it was the wizards' doing, he had no better course of action, and the sudden belated discovery of enemy action could well be a further malfunction rather than an accurate analysis.
"Information insufficient. There is evidence that sensor circuits have been tampered with."
"Can you stop the drain?"
"Negative. Ship is not equipped with gravitational manipulation."
"Where are the wizards?" The lock was open; he stepped in and found the test circuit access panel. It was held in place with plastic clamps; he slid them to the unlocked position and discovered that there were also three Phillips-head screws that the clamps had been hiding.
"Enemy personnel are approximately eighty meters north by northwest."
"They're on the ground?" There was a tool kit somewhere, he knew there was.
"Affirmative."
"Can you open fire on them?" He found the tool cabinet; it had plastic .clamps holding it shut, but fortunately no screws. He opened it.
"Negative. All weapons are below rim of depression. No line of sight to enemy personnel above rim of depression is possible."
"What about missiles? Throw something at them, anything!" He had the screwdriver.
"All anti-personnel missiles are located on underside of ship, and intended for air-to-ground use."
"What about incendiaries?" He had one screw out
"All incendiary missiles are located on underside of ship, and intended for air-to-ground use."
"Don't we have any air-to-air or ground-to-air or ground-to-ground?" The second screw came free.
"Affirmative. Air-to-air missiles are armor-piercing, located on underside of ship. Ground-to-air missiles are magnetically guided high explosive. Ground-to-ground are nuclear. Ship is well within blast area of nuclear arms."
That was no help at all. The third screw came loose and fell to the floor of the airlock.
"Power levels critical."
He flipped the switch that activated the testing mechanism; a red light reading INSUFFICIENT POWER
immediately came on.
"Termination of communications contact with cyborg unit to conserve power."
"No, wait!" There was no response.
He looked at the test panel, trying to decide what to do; the lights in the passageway went out completely, and he was in total darkness except for the red glow labeled INSUFFICIENT POWER.
He knew there was emergency lighting somewhere; he could not see well enough to locate it. Aloud, he shouted, "Give me some light!"
There was no answer; the darkness remained.
A new light appeared, a yellow glow from the test panel; it was a warning light that read SYSTEMS FAILURE
. He stared at it.
An instant later it winked out, and a new, larger, red light came on, reading ALL SYSTEMS OFF.
There had to be a flashlight in the tool kit; he groped for it in the dark and found it as even the red warning lights began to dim. There was a click, and a whir, and the hiss of recording tape came from a speaker near his head; he froze and listened with a mix of fear and anticipation. Was the computer back in service? The red light reading ALL SYSTEMS OFF still glowed faintly. A voice spoke, the first other than his own to be heard aboard the ship for fourteen years.
"Independent Reconnaissance Unit two-oh-five, this is a recorded message from the Command, activated by the failure of your shipboard computer systems and/or power supply.
"We, of course, know nothing of your current situation, so this message cannot address itself to specifics.
It is a safe assumption, however, that the systems failure is the result of enemy action, and we can offer a little general advice.
"We suggest you make planetfall immediately, if you have not done so, and get away from your ship as fast as possible, taking whatever supplies seem appropriate. Your ship can make an emergency landing without computer assistance under the right circumstances. Once away from the ship, try to blend with the local population, if any; a single person is harder to find in a crowd than in a wilderness. Avoid local capitals and military installations. Your situation has been reported by emergency relay to all units in your area, and assistance will be sent as soon as possible; we do not consider IRU personnel expendable.
"Since you must be prepared for all eventualities, and there may arise situations in which the maintenance of your status as an IRU is counterproductive, you may need the release code for your computer and yourself. This is simply your .civilian name, spoken aloud three times; it can be retrieved from your memory by any person with a rudimentary knowledge of hypnosis, or if necessary through self-hypnosis.
We do not recommend that you use it lightly, and certainly not immediately; it will erase your conditioning and block your memory of all militarily sensitive subjects and training.
"Remember, help is on the way. Good luck." Blank tape hissed, then stopped; the dim red of the warning light died, and he was alone in the dark.