still there, along with various assorted small rockets and

other implements.

Quong finished. "Are they there?"

"Yeah. So, Harry," said Xris loudly, "tell us more

about Professor Lasairion." "Huh? Now?"

Tycho, sitting next to him, nudged him in the ribs.

"What? Oh, yeah, sure. Let's see. I think I can re-

member most of it. Mom always said I had a photogenic

memory. Professor Lasairion was born in Belfast, Ire-

land, Earth, in the year 2069. He was one of twelve

children ..."

"The Corasians took your hand," Quong said softly.

"I was just coming around and I saw two of them in

here, working on you. The blobs lit up the place nicely,

plus the humans carried nuke lamps. A man, whom I

assume was Harsch, was with them, plus four other hu-

mans, probably his bodyguards. And the charming Cap-

tain Strauss."

"Bless her little heart. She must have told them I was

a cyborg. I'm probably damned lucky that's the only

piece they took off me," Xris said.

Quong shook his head. "It is only a matter of time,

my friend. According to their discussions with Harsch,

the Corasians consider you an ideal subject. They plan

to copy your mechanics, to give their own robotic bodies

 

 

 

 

greater capabilities. The Corasians wanted to start op-

erating then and there. Strauss told them not to. For the

time being, at least."

"That was sweet of her." Xris gave a few seconds to

the prospect of having his body pulled apart without

benefit of anesthetics. A few seconds was more that

enough. "What's she want to keep me around for?" He

waved his remaining hand. "Other than as her sex toy,

of course."

Quong grunted. "Seems there's some questions

Harsch wants to ask you about the robot."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Like where is it?"

Xris stared at the infrared outline of his friend. In the

background, Harry was droning, "The professor at-

tended MIT for two years, but was expelled for being in

possession of a controlled substance--"

"Oh, that's too much!" Raoul doubled over, helpless

with laughter.

Xris said cautiously, "Okay, I give up. Where is the

robot?"

Quong shrugged. "Search me. The last I saw, it was

in sick bay. I was preparing to dissect it-- Oh, sorry."

He patted Xris on the shoulder, the shoulder that was

missing a hand. "I wasn't thinking. Anyhow, the 'bot's

not there now, apparently. And someone else is miss-

ing, .too."

Xris glanced around the room. He counted six faintly

glowing bodies, including his own. "Who're we lost?"

"Jeffrey Grant."

"Son of a bitch. I forgot all about him. Where is he?"

"He's not here, that much I know. And no one's said

a word about him. No one----catch my drift?" "You mean Strauss?"

"Yes. I don't think she's mentioned him to Harsch. I

told the others to keep quiet. According to what I over-

heard Strauss tell Harsch, the robot was on its own."

"Strange," Xris said, trying to account for this and not

having much luck. "Maybe she's keeping Grant on ice,

plans to cut a little deal for herself after Sakuta's gone.

Although that doesn't make much sense. Wouldn't be

 

worth the risk, in my opinion. But then, what do I know?

I've been operating in the dark this whole fucking job."

"... married," Harry was saying, "to Greta Jean

Schnickbaum, a Ph.D. in nuclear physics. They had no

children. They used to say that their robots were their

children .... "

"Four humans." Xris was adding up the score.

"Armed?"

"To the teeth. Their teeth may be armed, for all I

know. They're walking arsenals. Looks like each one has

an anti-Corasian dampener device."

"What the hell's that?" Xris demanded.

"It fires a blast of oppositely polarized energy, short

circuits them, so to speak. Say you had a battery--"

"Say I didn't. What else?"

"They each have several high-caliber needle-guns, de-

signed to crack open plastisteel."

"Looks like Sakuta doesn't exactly trust his Corasian

hosts." Xris glanced around at his team. "I presumed

they searched us while we were out. I don't suppose

they overlooked anything?"

"They missed nothing," Quong said glumly. "They

even took a small corkscrew which I hake a habit of

carrying in my wallet."

"Those guns would outfit us nicely," Xris said in

thoughtful tones. "Give us a real edge."

"Against the thousand or so Corasians on this ship? I

admire your_notion of fair play, my friend."

Xris smiled. "Beats throwing Raoul's high heels at

them."

Quong was not to be deterred. "Not to mention the

fact that we are locked in this cold-storage compartment

with no way out--Jamil couldn't find a door."

"He won't. Not in a meat locker. The Corasians don't

like to have to chase their lunch around. Only one way

in, and that's from outside."

"And," Quong continued, "you are the only one who

can see in this confounded nightmare, with the possible

exception of the Little One, who may have natural

infrared."

"And that's the good news." Xris slapped Quong on

 

 

 

 

the back. "It's what I like about you, Doc. Your optimis-

tic viewpoint."

"I feel it is my duty to identify the difficulties," Ouong

said stiffly.

"I know, Doc. 1 know," Xris said. "It's just--"

A clanging sound interrupted him, conling from the

wall.

"Company," Xris warned. "At my signal, Doc, jump

them. Pass the word."

"Jump whom?" Quong demanded. "With what?"

"I have my weapons hand," Xris said softly.

"Oh, well." Quong grumbled. "That makes all the dif-

ference. Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"And tell Jamil not to let them shut that door!"

Xris ordered.

Quong grunted again and stumbled off into the dark-

ness, hands outstretched, feeling his way along. He

bumped into Tycho, imparted Xris's orders. Tycho told

Harry. The word spread quickly, to judge by Raoul's

partially stifled laughter. The team spaced themselves

within arm's length of each other, reaching out their

hands to keep in touch.

A giggling Raoul shook the Little One, propped him

onto his feet.

The Little One's head slumped; the fedora tumbled

onto the floor. Raoul prodded him. The Little One's

head snapped up. He gazed around sleepily, and then

apparently the mental turmoil struck him, for he was

suddenly alert and wide awake. He shifted his gaze

toward the wall. The banging sounds continued. Appar-

ently they were attempting to open the door and not

having much success.

The Corasians are obsessed with obtaining human

technology, primarily because they are so bad at it them-

selves. Almost all of the technology they have ever ac-

quired has been stolen from the human and alien

residents of the Milky Way galaxy next door. Often the

Corasians borrowed the mechanics, without having any

real clear understanding of how they operated, which

meant that machinery breakdowns were frequent

occurrences.

 

Unfortunately, it had been Xris's experience that the

breakdowns usually happened only to mundane equip-

ment--such as hatch seals. Corasian' weapons, which

were attached to the robotic bodies and operated by

impulse energy from a computer "brain," worked just

fine.

Xris boosted his hearing. Beneath the banging and

clanging, he could hear swearing. A human voice, proba-

bly Harsch's, though it was too faint to be able to tell.

The voice didn't sound happy.

Xris grinned. Harsch was in one hell of a spot. He'd

promised to deliver one Lane-laying robot and was now

faced with the prospect of explaining to this bunch of

flesh-devouring fiery globs of god that he wasn't going to

be able to keep that promise. Harsch must be sweating--

literally. No wonder he was keeping those bodyguards

close. And they would likely be paying more attention

to their Corasian hosts than to a sorry group of unarmed

prisoners. The bodyguards wouldn't be expecting an as-

sault from that quarter.

It was a chance. Not much of one. The guards were

well armed and it wouldn't take them long to shift their

thinking and their aim. And there was always the Cor-

asians. But a chance, even a slim one, was better than

no chance at all.

Xris ripped the sleeve from his cybernetic arm, tore

off the fleshfoam, laying bare the metal "bones," the

instruments, the flashing lights. He popped open the

panel on his steel leg. Taking out his weapons hand, he

attached the hand to his wrist. Fortunately, he was so

accustomed to doing this that he could work in the dark.

He felt the hand click into place, made adjustments. A

green light blinked on; the hand was operational.

Xris looked around. Everyone was set. He could talk

now; the banging would cover his voice.

"I have my weapons hand attached and ready to use.

At my signal, jump the guard nearest you. Don't worry

about the Corasians: I'll take care of them. When you

take out the guards, grab their weapons. Jamil, whatever

happens, don't let that door shut. Understand?"

He heard a chorus of affirmatives and one hysterical

 

 

 

 

hiccup. The banging had ceased for the moment. Harsch

came across clearly now, loudly berating someone. A

computerized voice offered explanations. The voice was

tinny, mechanical, without feeling, and a shiver started

at Xris's tailbone, went up his spine.

Soon he might be listening to those voices talking

about him, talking over him, as he lay stretched out on

a table while they slit him open and tore out ...

He shook his head angrily. What was he doing, letting

his imagination run amuck!

A small body barreled into him, grabbing him by the

knees. Startled, Xris looked down.

The Little One had hold of Xris's pants legs, was tug-

ging on them emphatically, nearly pulling them off.

"What the--" Xris was keyed up. "Raoul, what the

devil is wrong with him? Get him off me! Hurry!

They've almost got the door mechanism fixed! They'll

be in here any second) I can't fire with him hanging on

to me)"

Raoul, chuckling, sauntered over to retrieve his small

friend. "I know that you are fond of Xris Cyborg. We

are all of us fond of him. But this is neither the time

nor the place in which to express yOUrm"

Raoul stopped talking. He stared at the Little One,

who was clinging to Xris's trousers with one hand, gestic-

ulating with other.

"Oh! I see!" Raoul cried in delight. "I see! You were

right all along! My friend!" He turned to Xris, who

could have sworn that the Adonian's eyes glowed red in

the darkness, like a cat's. "The Little One says to tell

you that Tess works for Naval Intelligence!"

"I bloody well know that)" Xris shouted, fuming. The

banging had started again, was accompanied by an omi-

nous-sounding clank, as if a seal had given way. "Get

him off me!"

"Company coming," Jamil reported from his position

near the door.

"She's only pretending to work for Naval Intelligence.

She's really working for Harsch!" Xris attempted to pry

the Little One's clutching hands loose.

Raoul was performing some sort of mad, insane dance,

 

revolving on his tiptoes, his hands clicking in the air like

castanets. "She's working for NI, working for Harsch,

working for NI!" He made it a little song. "She's been

working for the Naaa-vy!"

"Good God! He's stoned out of his skull!" Xris

muttered.

He ripped the Little One's hands loose, shoved the

empath away. The Little One stumbled into Raoul. The

two collided, tumbled onto the deck.

"And stay there!" Xris ordered. "Keep your fool

heads down or they'll get blown off."

The Little One made a frantic attempt to regain his

feet, but he tangled with Raoul, who was attempting

drunkenly to accomplish the same task. The two weren't

having much success.

Xris hurriedly thrust the hand that was no longer a

hand but a rocket launcher into the front of his uniform

jacket. He stood cradling the limb as if ashamed to re-

veal the fact that the arm was missing an appendage.

The door--little more than a crack in the wall--was

starting to open. A hideous red light welled through.

Heat radiated.

Jamil was plainly visible now, flattened against the

wall near the door. Sweat beaded on his black skin. He

was peering out the opening. He raised a hand; it was

bathed in red light. One finger--that was Harsch. An-

other finger--probably Tess. Four fingers--the body-

guards. Two more fingers--Corasians.

The door swung wide. the Corasians rolled inside. The

light and the heat grew brighter and stronger.

The implications of what the Little One had been say-

ing struck Xris.

Working for Naval Intelligence, working for Harsch,

working for Naval Intelligence/

A ... triple agent?

Was that possible?

Yes! Something in Xris shouted hopefully, but he ig-

nored the voice, because he refused to listen to the part

of himself that was talking; the emotional, irrational,

damnably romantic part of himself who wanted very

 

 

 

 

much to believe that Captain Tess Strauss was on his

side.

Xris didn't trust that part of himself and he didn't

trust her. He couldn't trust her! His life and, more

important, the lives of his people were at stake.

The door opened wide enough to allow the Corasians

to enter.

Orange blobs of molten goo encased in plastisteel

bodies that trundled about on wheels. The Corasians

were more repulsive than frightening--that is, unless

you've seen them ooze out of their robot cases, swarm

over a living human being, burn the flesh off the bones,

then start on the bones ....

The Corasians were followed by Harsch, his four

bodyguards crowding on his heels. Tess entered next.

Xris was supposed to be watching Harsch, watching the

bodyguards, waiting for an opening. But his gaze kept

going to Tess. Could he read the truth in her face?

Of course not. She was good. Very good. Whichever

side she was on. She refused to make eye contact with

him, had glanced in his direction only very briefly, and

that to make certain she knew where he was and what

he was doing. Her gaze took in everyone else at the

same time. Her face was set in concrete, hard, without

expression. Her eyes were dark as the darkness in the

corridor behind her.

Xris cursed the Little One, cursed him for putting

doubt in his mind. Xris had been going to kill her; he

could have killed her with a clear conscience, without

regret. Now he wasn't sure ....

Harsch held a lasgun in his hand. He turned the gun

on Xris. "Where is the robot?"

Xris shrugged, nursed his maimed arm. "I don't

know."

"I don't believe you."

"l don't blame you," Xris said. "l don't much believe

myself. But it's the truth. We don't know where the

robot is."

"We could help you look," Quong offered politely.

"Where did you see it last?"

"Did you try under the bed?" Tycho was helpful.

 

"You gentlemen are funny." Harsch glanced at each

of them, a slight line marring his smooth forehead. One

side of his mouth twitched, one hand flexed. He was

angry... and scared.

"Very funny. Unfortunately, my customers don't have

much of a sense of humor. They are growing impatient.

Tess ..." Harsch stepped back. "You know these men.

Handle it."

Tess raised her lasgun, aimed it at Quong. Her gaze

flicked to Xris. "Tell us where the robot is or your friend

the doctor dies. You have five seconds. I'll count. One."

Her hand holding the gun was steady, never wavered.

The eyes were empty.

The Little One was wrong.

"Two."

The small rockets mounted on Xris's weapons hand

were of his own invention and design, intended to be

used specifically against'the Corasians. He owned the

patent. He'd sold it to the Navy, made a small fortune.

It was that fortune which had allowed him to put the

team together. With one rocket, he could take out one

Corasiam plus Tess and Harsch.

But the moment he lifted his cybernetic hand, aimed,

Tess would fire. Quong would be dead. And there would

be nothing Xris could do. "Three."

That left the foul' bodyguards and one Cotasian. Xris

would take out that Corasian with his second rocket,

and by that time the bodyguards would have recovered

and he would be dead.

"Four." Tess was frowning, not pleased.

Quong stood still, stoic. He knew the score. Harry was

balancing on the balls of his feet, ready to hurl his bulky

body at the nearest bodyguard. Jamil was by the door,

the only escape route, for those who survived. Raoul,

giggling, had made it to his feet. He staggered, stumbled,

veered in Harsch's general direction. The Little One's

hands were hidden in the raincoat pockets. Tycho's skin

tone had altered to red,

"You won't tell me where the robot is?" Tess kept

her gaze fixed on Quong, addressed Xris.

 

 

 

 

He needed to make her shift her attention to him.

"Now!" he yelled loudly, and jerked his weapons hand

out from his coat. He jumped forward. Tess shifted her aim, fired.

The laser blast burned through the back of Nick

Harsch's skull, exited the front.

Xris had never seen anyone look so surprised.

 

CHfl

 

PT

ql

 

[R

 

Do not remain on isolated terrain.

 

Sun-tzu, The Art of War

 

Harsch died standing on his feet, his mouth gaping

nearly as wide as the hole in the back of his head.

His bodyguards--hearing the sound of the blast--turned

to see what was happening, discovered that their jobs

had just become superfluous. Harsch started to crumble.

"Now!" Xris yelled--again.

Harry, bellowing like a bull, charged his man, caught

him amidships. The guard's beam rifle flew from his

hands, hit the deck. Tycho was on hand to grab it. He

turned, fired, took out another bodyguard, who was lin-

ing up on Quong.

The third guard was swinging his rifle around to take

out Xris. He hoped somebody would deal with that,

couldn't take time to do anything himself: A Corasian

was standing directly behind Tess.

"Strauss!" Xris bellowed over the laser blasts and

whines of the beam rifles and screams of the wounded.

"Down! Get down!"

Tess dropped face first to the deck, covered her head

with her arms. Xris fired one missile, struck the Corasian

in the robot head. The head exploded, destroying the

computer "brain." That didn't kill the Corasian. Its plas-

tisteel body cracked open; the fiery amoeba form began

to crawl out, oozed toward Tess's feet.

Xris dashed forward. "Die, damn you, die!" He swore

 

 

 

 

helplessly at the Corasian. Laser blasts didn't affect the

aliens. They appeared to thrive on the energy. Xris's mis-

sile used a negative charge that drained the alien, negated

the energy. This time he'd failed, obviously. The lavalike

blob was almost on Tess, was creeping up to her booted

foot. She kept her head down, couldn't see the danger.

Xris had watched the Cotasians kill humans before,

had seen them devour the living flesh in flame. He would

have to fire again, although that left him only four mis-

siles and they still had a long way to go. He took aim.

The Corasian's red-orange glow began to dim. It contin-

ued to move, but more slowly. The blob began to blacken.

Xris reached Tess. He grabbed her roughly by the

shoulder, dragged her behind him, put his body between

her and the dying Corasiam Tess's head jerked up, star-

tled. She saw the Corasiam sucked in a breath, and

scrambled the rest of the way on her hands and knees.

"Xris!" JamiFs voice, urgent, warning.

Xris swiveled. Corasians, being each single units of

one gigantic collective brain, had the ability to communi-

cate with each other instantly. The second Corasian had

apparently alerted central control. The door was sliding

shut. And once it shut, there was no way to open it from

the inside.

Jamil stood in the doorway, prepared to use his body

to try to keep the door open. Unfortunately, the metal

door was heavy, massive. Jamil wouldn't be a doorstop

very long. He'd be jelly.

Xris fired a second missile at the remaining Corasian.

His aim was low; he hit it square in the massive body.

The missile exploded on impact, but only cracked the

plastisteel case.

Tess was on her feet at his side. She fired her lasgun.

The Corasian's head blew up. The lavalike larva inside the

case was still alive, but one of the shots had damaged the

case, destroyed the mechanism which allowed the case to

open, For the moment, the Corasian was trapped.

And so were Xris and Tess. Laser fire flashed'in front

of them, lighting up the dark room. The two surviving

bodyguards were using the dead Corasian's broken case

for cover, trading shots with Quong, crouched behind a

 

girder, and Tycho, lying fiat on the deck. The chameleon

was so excessively thin that he was a difficult target, as

long as he kept his head down. It looked to be a stale-

mate. Xris didn't have time for stalemates.

Harry had added his weight to the fight with the

door--he was wedged in tight--and, for the moment,

the door was holding. Jamil had disappeared; presum-

ably he'd gone out the door into the corridor. Outside,

the red glow was steadily brightening. More Corasians.

Xris was suddenly very tired.

Why fight it'? he asked himself. It would be a whole

lot easier on everyone concerned if we just gave up

right now.

Tess tugged on his sleeve. Leaning close, she shouted,

"The spaceplane! The PRRS! It's in the docking bay at

the end of this corridor!"

He eyed her grimly. "You really work for the Navy'?"

"1 really do." She smiled. "You want to see my pen-

sion plan'?"

"1 just want to see you live to collect it. The rest of

us included. You say that the plane's nearby?"

"Not one hundred meters away."

"You had this all arranged?"

She shook her head. "Not really. I'm making it up as

I go along."

"Great!" Xris grunted. "Well, you haven't done bad

so far. When this is over, remind me to kiss you."

"It's a deal." Tess peered out through the smoke and

laser flashes. "My plan only works if we make it to the

door. How do we get rid of these two'? It looks like

they're figuring on settling down here."

Xris readjusted his weapons hand to fire a laser. "I'm

going to try to circle around behind them. You keep

them busy."

"No, Xris!" Tess said. "They'll--"

The moment Xris moved, one of the bodyguards

looked that direction, shifted his aim, fired.

Xris went down flat, hugging the deck, Tess at his side.

The blast took out a chunk of bulkhead behind them.

"--spot you," Tess finished. "The light reflects off the

 

 

 

 

metal on your arm! To say nothing of those flashing

doodads. What about one of those Corasian-killing mis-

siles of yours?"

"I have three left. We're going to need them once

we're out of there."

Another blast burst over them. Tess scrunched down.

"Times like this, I wish I was flat-chested!" She shook

her head. "Look, Xris, if we don't make it out of here

alive, we won't need those three missiles!"

Xris conceded she had a point. He aimed, was just

about to fire when a smothered giggle and a hand on

his shoulder interrupted him.

"Excuse me, friend Xris. Don't shoot." Raoul, crawl-

ing on his hands and knees, was pointing at something

in the semidarkness. "BUt would you look at that? Did

you ever see anything so silly? He's going to get himself

killed!" Tears of mirth rolled down the Loti's cheeks.

Xris looked. The Little One, raincoat flapping around

his ankles, had done what Xris was going to do, had

circled around behind the two remaining bodyguards.

The Little One was visible only intermittently, small

body showing up vividly when the laser light flashed,

vanishing into the darkness when the light died.

"What the hell--" Tess began. "He's not even

armed." She started to get up.

"Wait!" Xris caught hold of her arm, pulled her back

down. He yelled, hoped the comm would pick up his

command. "Tycho! Quong! Fire high! Aim for the

ceiling!"

The Little One took up a position directly behind one

of the bodyguards. The small figure reached his hand

into a pocket of the raincoat, pulled out what appeared

to be a stick. He clapped the stick to his mouth.

The bodyguard, intent on his battle, probably never

felt a thing. Or, if he did, he might have thought it was

a sliver of flying metal from a ricochet burst.

It wasn't. The bodyguard suddenly ceased firing.

In the next flash of light, Xris could see the man

slumped over his gun.

The Little One moved on, creeping up behind the sec-

ond bodyguard. Quong and Tycho were keeping the

 

guard busy, though he must have been wondering what

had happened to their aim, for the laser blasts were now

bursting on the overhea& raining down showers of

sparks.

The Little One made the same motion--hand to

mouth--with the same result. The guard lurched for-

ward, head first, toppled over in a heap.

"What--" Tess was mystified.

"Blowgun. Poisoned darts. Come on!"

Xris jumped to his feet, helped Tess to hers. He took

a moment to assess the situation. The only light re-

maining in the meat locker now was coming from the

trapped Corasian, crawling all over the inside of its ro-

botic case. By the red glow, he could see Harry wedged

in the door opening, Jamil standing outside, keeping

watch on another red glow that was growing in intensity.

Tycho and Quong were up and heading for the door.

Xris started in that direction, remembered.

He turned, reached down, snagged a handful of Raoul,

hoisted the Loti to his feet.

"Can you walk?" Xris demanded.

"No," said Raoul in a lilting voice. "But I can dance."

"Great! Waltz over to the door! Make it fast or you're

going to be an appetizer." He shoved Raoul, staggering,

m the general direction of the door, waved at the Little

One, who was already scurrying back to retrieve his

friend.

"Ah!" cried Raoul, and made a dive for something

lying on the deck. "My handbag!"

He slung the strap of a dampener rifle over his

shoulder.

Having seen Raoul in action on a firing range, Xris's

first thought was to take the gun away. His second--that

this would entail a fight. Raoul was very possessive of

his purse. Xris let it be.

He joined the rest of the team, gathered around Harry

and the door.

"Here's the plan," Xris said.

"We have a plan?" Quong was impressed.

"The PRRS is down the corridor, to the left." Xris

looked to Tess for confirmation. She nodded. "About

 

 

 

 

one hundred meters away. When we get out of here, the

rest of you make a run for it." He flourished his weapons

hand. "I'll take care of the rear. Okay, Harry, you can

move."

"Uh, that's gonna be a problem, Xris," Harry said, his

face glistening with sweat and extremely red. "I'm

stuck."

"Stuck!" Xris swore.

"Could you hurry, Xris?" Harry continued plaintively.

"It's kinda hard for me to breathe."

"They're coming, Xris!" Jamil reported from outside

in the corridor. "Corasians! I can count ... four, five ...

maybe more after that."

"You can bet there'll be more after that," Xris mut-

tered under his breath. "Did you find the controls for

the door?"

"Yeah. No luck. I think the door's jammed."

Xris put his cybernetic foot against the metal hydraulic

door and shoved.

The door was heavy and it wasn't moving. Harry

panted and gasped. A burst of laser fire lit the corridor

outside. The range was short, but closing rapidly.

"Hand me one of those dampeners!" Jamil called.

Quong passed his through the opening, above Harry's

head. Jamil grabbed it, twisted aroilnd, opened fire. He

wasn't aiming at the Corasians, he was aiming at the

supports of a large piece of metal ductwork on. the

ceiling.

Xris braced his back against the wall, planted his foot

against the door, and, drawing on all his reserves, bat-

tery-powered and flesh and blood, he shoved." The door

held a moment, then gave way, sliding on its track so

suddenly that Xris landed on his back.

Harry, with a groan, staggered out the door. Quong

caught him, supported him. Tycho dove through, gun

blasting, kept Jamil covered. He blasted away at the

ductwork.

The ductwork sagged, dropped at one' end. Another

few rounds, and it fell, crashing to the deck, blocking

the corridor between them and the Corasians. Xris re-

gained his feet.

 

"Go! Go!" he shouted. "I've got the Little One!" He

scooped the erapath up under his right arm. "Follow

Tess!"

Tess ran for the end of the corridor, yelling and flash-

ing her nuke lamp so that they could see her in the

darkness. Harry waved off Quong's assistance and broke

into a run. Quong grabbed hold of Raoul, who was doing

the tango, and hauled him along. Tycho and Jamil fired

one more burst each, then they took off, racing toward

the docking bay.

The Corasians were momentarily halted by the fallen

duct, but their robotic arms were already grappling with

it, shoving it aside. Xris fired one of his special missiles

into their ranks. He heard it explode, didn't wait around

to see the results. The red glow grew appreciably dim-

mer, however.

He dashed down the corridor. The Corasians fired

after him, but they appeared more intent on removing

the ductwork. Xris hung on to the Little One, who was

clutching his fedora with both hands, and followed the

gleam of Tess's nuke lamp. The rest of the group had

disappeared inside the docking bay, were probably al-

ready climbing aboard the PRRS.

"By God," Xris said to himself, "we might just actu-

ally make it!"

He hurtled through the docking bay door, ran head-

long into the rest of the team, who were bunched up

together in the opening.

"What's going on?" he demanded. "Why the hell

aren't you on board?"

"On board what?" Tycho's translator screeched.

"There's nothing here, Xris," Harry said.

"She lied." Jamil was grim.

"And we are nicely caught in a cul-de-sac," Quong

added.

"I want you all to know that I am not the least bit

amused. I don't find this at all funny!" Raoul burst into

noisy, gulping sobs.

Xris activated the nuke lamp on his arm, flashed it

around the docking bay.

Empty. Not a spaceplane in sight.

 

 

 

 

CHfiPT[R

 

Make strategic plans for encircled terrain.

 

Sun-tzu, The Art of War

 

Xris dropped the Little One.

"Tycho. You and Jamil cover the door."

Behind him, he could hear the ductwork barricade

scraping across the deck. Xris grabbed the nuke lamp

from Tess's unresisting hand, shone the light full on her.

"I swear, Xris! I swear--the PRRS was here! It should

still be here! I left Jeffrey Grant on board and--" Tess

stopped, put her hand over her mouth. Her eyes grew

wide. "Oh, dear God! Grant! He stole the plane!"

"Again?" Harry shook his head. "That man's a

menace."

"Xris, they're coming!" Jamil shouted.

Xris shut off the glaring white light,'tried to think.

There had to be another way ....

"Harsch's plane," he said. "He had a plane, didn't he?

He didn't walk on board."

"Yes!" Tess clutched at him, nearly knocking him off

balance. "Yes! Harsch flew here in a Scimitar! I know

where--a level above! There's an access from here, the

maintenance door!"

Xris switched on the nuke lamp, flashed it around,

shone it on a crude lift.

"We can use that!" Tess said. "Come on--"

She started off.

Xris stopped her. "Why the devil should I trust you?"

 

"No reason," Tess answered softly. "None at all. Ex-

cept..."

She didn't finish, looked back out the door where

Jamil and Tycho crouched, firing down the corridor.

Except--Xris filled in the blank--you don't have a

whole hell of a lot of choice.

He started to give the command to move out.

Something large and metal clunked on the deck.

"Take cover!" Xris roared. He threw Tess away from

him, literally picking her up and tossing her as far as he

could before he hit the deck.

The explosion was brilliant, blinding, deafening,

numbing. It lifted him up off the deck, slammed him

down again hard. Shrapnel flew through the air. A thin,

piercing scream tore into his head, hurt worse than the

bits of metal slicing through his flesh.

And then everything was dark and silent, except for

a terrible bubbling sound and, from somewhere else, a

groan.

Xris shook off the concussive force of the blast,

heaved himself to his feet. A stabbing beam of light

aimed at nothing in particular. The nuke lamp Tess had

been holding lay on the deck a few centimeters from

Xris's hand. He bent over to pick it up, nearly passed

out. He staggered, steadied himself, tried again.

Retrieving the light, he flashed it around, searching

for Tess. He found her. She was on her hands and knees,

shaking her head muzzily. But she was alive. He contin-

ued searching. The bubbling sound had ceased. The

groaning continued. And out in the corridor, the red

glow pulsed brightly.

Xris stood in the door to the docking bay, aimed at

the glow, fired another missile. One left.

The missile hit one of the Corasians standing in the

center of the group. Perhaps that Corasian had been

carrying more grenades, because the resulting blast was

far greater than it should have been. The red glow flick-

ered and died. The corridor was dark.

But there were more Corasians. Once they found out

that people were still alive down here, there would be

lots more.

 

 

 

 

"Report in!" Xris gasped. He licked his lips and tasted

blood. He could still hear, in his memory, that shrill

scream. "Who's hurt?"

"Xris! Bring the light! Over here!"

Xris picked his way through the debris left by the

explosion. He found Jamii lying propped up against the

bulkhead, one leg stretched out in front of him, a pool of

blood beneath. Xris played the light on his friend's face.

"You okay?"

Jamil's face glistened; he nodded, said, "Not me, Xris.

Not me." His eyes shifted.

Xris followed with the light. "Bloody hell!" he whis-

pered. "Damn it all to bloody hell."

He crouched down, reached for Tycho's wrist, but he

knew he'd feel nothing. Not with a wound like that. He

held on to Tycho's thin-fingered hand--about the only

part of Tycho that was intact--and yelled savagely,

"Doc!"

He heard a crash, a curse, and Bill Quong's cool voice.

"Hold the light so that I can see, my friend. I will do

you no good stumbling around blind."

Xris held the light, not sorry to move it from the

bloody mass that was all that was left of Tycho.

"You hurt bad?" Xris asked Jamil.

"Shrapnel tore through my leg. I won't be running the

marathon anytime soon, but I can walk. You?"

Xris looked down. The sleeve covering his good arm

was torn and bloody. He couldn't feel anything, for the

moment.

"I'm okay. If we have company, keep them occupied."

Grunting, Jamil twisted around to lie~at on his belly,

the dampener rifle held in front of him. "It was a grenade," he said.

"Yeah," Xris responded, holding the light steady. He

could see Quong moving about in the darkness, could

see Tess pausing beside Raoul. "We were lucky. What-

ever that machine is over there contained most of the

blast."

"Tycho wasn't lucky," Jamil said. "Strauss led us in

here. She led us into a trap."

"I keep hearing voices," Raoul was saying queru-

 

Iously. "Someone's talking inside my head. And this

small and unknown personage in a raincoat keeps hug-

ging me." He paused a moment, then demanded loudly,

"Where am I? What am I doing here? Why can't I re-

member my name?"

"Amnesia," Quong said, making his way to Xris. "He

was hit in the head. We can only hope it is temporary."

Xris sighed inwardly. Raoul's mind was like a butterfly

net at the best of times. Now the net was cut and the

butterflies were fluttering about loose. God only knew

where they'd land.

Quong took the nuke lamp from Xris's hand, played

the beam over Tycho's body, shook his head. "There is

nothing I can do, Xris. Our friend never knew what hit

him. The blast caught him from behind, as you can see."

No, Xris couldn't. There wasn't enough of Tycho left

to tell his front from his back.

"Thanks, Doc. Do what you can for Jamil. And where

the devil's Harry?"

"Here, Xris," came Harry's aggrieved voice.

"You hurt?"

"1 got hit in the ass. It feels like I'm on fire back

there!"

"Just as long as it doesn't interrupt your mental

processes."

"No, Xris," Harry returned. "I said I got hit in the

ass."

"That's what I meant. Doc, how's Jamil? Can he

walk?"

"The calf muscle is torn. He has lost a lot of blood,

will be in considerable pain, and he will need assistance.

If I had my med kit--"

"If you had your med kit, we'd be on the PRRS and

Tycho wouldn't be dead and we wouldn't be trapped

like rats on this motherfu--" Xris stopped, sucked in a

deep breath. Reaching into his pocket for a twist, he

noticed his hand was shaking. He pulled himself to-

gether, thrust the twist into his mouth. "Sorry, folks.

Jamil, you see anything?"

"Red light. Getting brighter."

"They've figured out we're still alive and kicking.

 

 

 

 

Most of us, anyway. Harry, you help Jamil. Get him up

and mobile."

"Who are you people?" That was Raoul, irritable.

"Why have you brought me to this awful place? And

why don't any of you know who I am?"

"Quong, calm Raoul down. See if he's got something

in his purse that will tranquilize him--"

"Drugs!" Raoul's voice was shrill. "Are you mad? My

body is a temple."

Xris continued, ignored the outburst. "We've found a

way off this ship. Harsch flew here in a Scimitar. We'll

use it to escape. Tess knows the way. We'll follow her."

They stared at him; all of them, staring at him.

"I know the way," Tess said, her voice strained. "I

think we can make it."

No one spoke. No one moved.

"I'm going with Tess," Xris said. "The rest of you can

come with us or you can stay here. It's that simple."

Harry helped Jamil to his feet.

Jamil draped one arm over Harry's broad shoulders,

pulled himself upright. He tried putting his injured left

leg to the deck, grimaced and grunted.

"This way." Tess held the nuke lamp, led them deeper

into the darkness of the docking bay.

Harry and Jamil both glanced at Xris as they passed

him.

"Tycho had it easy," Jamil muttered out of the corner

of his mouth.

Xris didn't answer.

Quong and the Little One--his fedora had been

crushed, but he appeared otherwise uninjured--were at-

tempting to get Raoul up and moving and not having

much success. "My head aches. My feet hurt. I'm sleepy.

I don't want to go anywhere."

"Tell him he's in a shopping mall," Xris said.

"Shopping?" Raoul perked up. "But what happened

to the lights?"

That brought him to his feet and following after

Quong. The Little One trailed along behind, shaking his

battered hat and wringing his small hands.

Xris stood alone in the darkness next to Tycho. He

 

knelt beside the body, which was rapidly cooling, fast

disappearing from Xris's infrared sight. Xris lifted the

limp, dead hand.

He tried to talk, paused, cleared his throat, started

over. "I'm sorry, my friend. I'm sorry."

He let the unresponsive hand fall. Standing up, Xris

went after the others.

 

 

 

 

IHn

 

PT

q3

 

[H

 

On fatal terrain you must do battle.

 

Sun-tzu, The Art of War

 

Xis found them gathered around a large metal plate

et into the deck. Tess located a control panel on the

wall, opened it, tapped the controls. The metal plate

shivered and then, with a screech and a whoosh of air,

began to rise up out of the deck.

"By the Maker!" Quong breathed. "Pneumatic! A

pneulfiatic lift!"

Corasians, with their wheeled, plastistee! bodies,

weren't capable of climbing ladders. The docking bay

was probably filled with these lifts, which carried the

robots to the catwalks far above the deck.

"There's an access door up above," Tess explained.

"It leads to the docking bay on the third level, which is

where Harsch landed his spaceplane." She brought the

lift to a shuddering halt. "Hop on."

"Ladies lingerie, please," Raoul said politely, stepping

daintily onto the lift. He had a brief struggle with the

dampener, which was heavy and awkward. He managed

to adjust it and was heard to mutter, "I can't think why

I chose this style handbag."

Ouong lifted the Little One to join his friend. Harry

assisted Jamil onto the lift, stood beside him. There was

room for one more.

"I'11 operate the controls," Tess said. "You get on,

Xris."

 

"I'll wait here with you," he answered.

"Look, Xris, I can understand why you don't trust

me--"

"We got company coming." He interrupted her, then

switched on the light on his weapons arm, shone it onto

the control panel. "1 have one missile left. Give the nuke

lamp to Quong, I've got light. Start this thing up."

Tess said nothing more, started the lift moving. It took

its own sweet time and made a horrendous noise in the

process. The people standing on it shook and shuddered

from the vibrations.

Xris shifted his gaze to the corridor outside the dock-

ing bay. The red glow was again growing bright.

The lift came to a halt, must have been designed to

do so automatically when it reached the right level. Xris,

peering upward, could see Quong hustling everyone off

the lift and onto one of the catwalks. He flashed the

light.

"All clear!" came the shout.

"Good," Xris said over the comm. "Keep quiet. If

Raoul peeps, slug him."

Tess hit the controls and the lift, with a screech,

started back down.

She glanced over her shoulder. "They're getting

closer."

"Yeah." Xris said, chewing on ihe remnants of the

twist. "Tycho'11 stop them for a time. They like to feed

whenever they get the chance. And they don't figure

we're going anywhere." He spit the wad on the deck.

"One question. Where's the robot?"

Tess's face, in the harsh glare of the nuke lamp, was

dead white. Her eyes were moist, glistened. She gave a

helpless shrug. "I don't know. I told Grant to hide,

showed him a place .... He must have hidden the robot,

too. I didn't mean for him-- I never supposed-- the

robot was so heavy ..."

"Bottom line: The Corasians don't have it."

"No. And it would be better if they did. You see,

Xris, before I left the plane I--"

"Skip the confession," Xris said. "I'm not a priest."

Tess managed a half smile, shook her head.

 

 

 

 

The lift was nearly level with them now. As the lift

came flush with the floor, it ground to a halt, paused for

a moment, then began to rise. Tess and Xris climbed

onto it. The lift lurched upward, moving in fits and starts.

The platform jounced and creaked.

"This is one of the few times I could wish that the

Corasians had made a few more technological ad-

vances." Xris looked over the edge of the lift, saw the

red glow had come to a halt, was clustered around some-

thing in the doorway. The smell of burning flesh was

strong, pungent.

Tess gave a little gasp, covered her mouth and nose

with her hand.

"Don't look," Xris said, and put his arm around her.

She closed her eyes, sagged against him. "I'm sorry. I

should be used to this. I've seen it before."

"So have I," Xris said. "And it doesn't get any

easier."

He tried to follow his own advice, tried to look away,

but he couldn't. He watched the red globs swarm over

Tycho until the rim of the platform blocked them from

his view.

The lift reached the catwalk. Ouong was there to help

them off. "They got Tycho."

"I know. Hand me that dampener."

Taking the rifle from Ouong, Xris leaned over the

catwalk and fired a blast at the lift's controls. The panel

blew off. That lift wouldn't be going anywhere anytime

soon.

Xris glanced around. "Where is everyone?"

"Jamil and Harry went to check out the access door.

It's at the end of the catwalk to your left. I sent Raoul

with them. He's looking for a different handbag, one to

match his shoes."

Xris took out another twist. "The Little One?"

"Keeping Raoul from falling off the catwalk."

Xris nodded. Tess went ahead, to join Harry and Jamil

at the door. Xris and Quong followed, gathering up

Raoul on the way.

"I can't find the handbags," he complained.

"Of course not," Xris said. "You're in men's wear."

 

Raoul shuddered. "Three-piece polyester suits. How

ghastly."

The red glow below them was intensifying. A laser

blast burst on the catwalk beneath their feet. Xris and

Quong increased their speed, hustling Raoul along at a

rapid pace. The Little One trotted along behind.

"Let's open the door, gentlemen," Xris said briskly,

coming to a halt at the end of the catwalk. "It's going

to be getting warm in here."

Another blast--this time closer. The Corasians were

improving their aim.

"Right," Harry said. "We wanted to wait for everyone

to arrive, in case there was an escort waiting."

"Can't hear anything," reported Jamil, standing on

one leg, propped up against the bulkhead, gun ready.

"But that doesn't mean much. This door must be at least

fifteen centimeters thick. By the way, these dampener

rifles need to be recharged after about fifty rounds. So

don't waste your aremo."

Xris held up his weapons hand. "I've got one missile

left. Open the door and stand back."

Tess hit the controls. The door rumbled open slowly.

No red glow. Xris cautiously peered out.

Darkness. He looked, saw nothing; listened, heard

nothing. All very strange. The Corasians down below

must be in contact with their fellow blobs, must have

told them their dinner was walking out the back.

Quong remarked, "I have prayed to the Maker. Per-

haps this is the response."

Xris motioned for Tess to join him. "Where's the

plane from here?"

"The corridor runs in front of us for about twenty

meters, then another branches off to the right. The

plane's in the docking bay at the end, about another

thirty meters." She looked around, uneasy. "This is

weird. Where are they?"

"Angels took care of 'em, according to Doc. Watch

out for locusts and falling frogs." "Huh?" Tess stared at him.

Xris turned back to the group. "I'll take point. Tess,

 

 

 

 

you're with me. Harry, you and Jamil come after. Little

One, you're in charge of Raoul."

The Little One nodded. Xris wasn't certain if the em-

path was reacting to his words of his thoughts, supposed

it didn't matter. The Little One reached out a small

hand, grabbed hold of Raoul's hand, and clung tightly.

"We're looking for accessories," Raoul said in a low

voice.

"Quong, you bring up the rear. Keep your eyes and

ears open," Xris counseled, added grimly. "This is all

nmch too easy."

They made their way down the corridor. Xris switched

on his light. Tess had retrieved her nuke lamp, flashed

it continually along the bulkheads and the deck in front

of them. Harry and Jamil came behind, Jamil hobbling,

stifling his groans every time the foot of his injured leg

touched the deck.

Tugged along by his small friend, Raoul complained

that this was a very strange shopping mall and wondered

in a loud voice that set everyone's teeth on edge why

nobody would turn on the lights. Quong brought up the

rear, dampener ready.

They reached the intersection of the corridor, halted,

flattened themselves against the walls. Xris peered

around the corner.

More darkness, thick, impenetrable, blessed.

He and Tess aimed the beams of the nuke lights down

the corridor, and there was the docking bay, its doors

wide open.

Xris shook his head. "This stinks."

"You are a man of little faith, my friend," Quong said

over his shoulder. The Doc was guarding the rear, facing

back the way they'd come. "Take the gift the Maker

gives you. Proceed forward with confidence."

Xris proceeded forward, though not with much confi-

dence. His augmented hearing was picking up strange

sounds. He tried to place them. Hums, whirs, and occa-

sionally a creak or a squeal.

"You hear anything?" he asked Tess.

She shook her head. "No. Nothing. You?"

 

"Yeah. If I closed my eyes, I'd swear that we were

surroun--"

Xris knew. He saw--or didn't see--the trap into which

they were blithely walking.

"Shields! Opaque shields!" he shouted. "Get back!"

He raised his arm, aimed the missile--

The laser blast caught him in the left shoulder, spun

him around, slammed him to the deck.

Tess dropped the nuke lamp, crouched down beside

him. Raising her lasgun, she returned fire. "Doc!" she

yelled.

Laser blasts burst in the corridor. Sparks showered

down around them.

"Ah," said Raoul, enchanted. "The toy department."

The Little One dragged his friend down to the deck.

Harry and Jamil found cover ill doorways, were both

firing. Quong ran forward, knelt down beside Xris. "Pick

up that lamp," he ordered Tess. "Shine it here, on his

shoulder."

"You gotta work on those prayers, Doc!" Xris

grunted, as Quong's fingers poked and prodded.

"It was your crack about frogs that did it." Quong

peeled off Xris's smoldering uniform. HarI3, and Jamil

were keeping up covering fire. "You were hit in the

steel-reinforced part of you, my friend. That is very

good news."

"Very bad news," Xris said bitterly, sitting up, with

Tess's help. He pointed to his cybernetic arm, at the

weapons hand, which hung at his side, dead weight, use-

less. "What am I supposed to do? Throw the damn mis-

sile at them?"

Laser light streaked past them, exploded on the panel

above their heads. Tess flung her arms around Xris,

shielding him. Quong stood up, heedless of his own

safety, poured murderous fire in the general direction of

the shot. He continued firing until his gun went dead.

He threw it away, crouched back down.

Jamil and Harry were concentrating their fire in the

same place. A pop and a clatter and a small flash of

light came from the end of the corridor.

"1 think we got one," Harry reported.

 

 

 

 

A laser blast nearly took off his head.

"Or maybe not." Harry ducked back into the

doorway.

Xris looked at Tess, who was lying on top of him.

"You just can't keep your hands off me, can you?" he

asked.

Tess sat up, shoved her hair out of her face, tried to

look as ff she'd done nothing special.

"It's your fatal charm." She glanced down the corri-

dor. "Speaking of fatal, their aim is rotten today. We

should all be dead about now."

"The shields that keep us from seeing them are proba-

bly also keeping them from seeing us," Quong main-

tained. "Disrupting their sensors. You see, my prayers

may have been answered, after all."

He was back down beside Xris, inspecting the damage.

"Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do about the arm.

The connections between the arm and your brain have

been fried."

"But the weapons hand itself is okay?" Tess asked.

"It appears to be, yes."

"Can the missile be fired manually?"

"If Doe takes my hand off," said Xris.

"Detach the hand," she said crisply, "and show me

how it works."

Quong looked questioningly at Xris, who nodded.

"Gb ahead, Doe." He managed a smile. "I'd give my

left arm to get rid of these bastards."

"I count two of them, Xris!" Jamil yelled. "One to

the left of the door and one to the right. My gun's run

out of juice." He threw the useless dampener to the

deck.

"Mine, too," Harry reported. "I'm switching to the

beam rifle."

Quong took hold of Xris's arm, gave it a twist. The

limb came off. Tess took hold of it.

"I can't see!" she complained. "Where's the firing

mechanism?"

"You can feel it here, inside the wrist, a small bump."

"I think so." She sounded dubious.

 

"Don't push on it!" Quong cautioned. "Until you

are ready."

Tess nodded. She aimed the arm like a rifle and fired,

hit the Corasian on the right. Its opaque shield cracked

open. The red glow lit up its companion.

Harry concentrated fire from the beam rifle on their

new target. One hit split open the Corasian's .side, a

second burst blew the hole wide open. The fiery ooze

began to crawl out.

Tess shouted at him, "Don't shoot laser energy at the

blob! They feed off it! I don't have any more missiles!"

Raoul and the Little One lay on the deck in the mid-

dle of the corridor. Raoul kept lifting his head; the Little

One kept shoving it back down. Xris, looking back at

them, recalled the dampener on Raoul's back.

"Harry!" Xris shouted, and aimed the nuke lamp

that direction.

Harry saw the dampener. He made a flying leap, did

a belly flop practically on top of Raoul, who shrieked in

alarm and hid his face in his hands.

Harry yanked the weapon from Raoul's arm, nearly

dislocating the Adonian's shoulder. Flipping over on his

back, Harry fired. The weapon's projectile embedded in

the center of the glowing mass, exploded. The glow

began to fade.

Xris aimed the nuke lamp down the corridor, could

find no sign of Corasians.

Raoul's voice broke the stillness. "You beast! Give

me back my handbag!"

ú "What handbag?" Harry was baffled.

"This!" Raoul tried to wrest the dampener from Har-

ry's hand.

Harry stopped him. "Let me keep it awhile. Okay?

I'll give it back. I promise. And why don't you let me

go first."

Raoul sniffed. "Keep it, then. I never could find any-

thing in it anyway."

Harry walked ahead, dampener at the ready. The rest

followed; Quong helped Jamil. Tess and Xris brought up

the rear.

"What about your arm?" she said.

 

 

 

 

It lay on the deck. There was something pathetic

about it. Xris was reminded of the robot with the sad

eyes. We give this metal life. Are we the ones who

endow it with spirit, as well? Or do we truly understand

the definition of "life"?

"Leave it!" he ordered her, as she bent to pick it up.

"The Doc'11 make me a new one."

They followed the others. The corridor opened up

onto a large hangar deck. And there, inside--a long-

range Scimitar.

"Harry, give me the dampener," Xris instructed. "You

go get this thing fired up. Tess, you guard the door."

The long-range Scimitar--shaped like the blade for

which it was named--was a fighter spaceplane, smaller

than the PRRS and much faster.

Harry climbed the ladder leading to the top, opened

the hatch. He disappeared inside.

Xris scanned the area for the telltale glow of Cor-

asians. Above him, at the far end of the hanger, he could

see faint light.

Xris turned. "Hurry up! They're coming!"

Jamik hopping on one foot, leaning on Quong, en-

tered the hanger. He looked up at the ladder leading to

the Scimitar's hatch and grunted.

"Sorry," said Xris, "but it's the only way."

"Yeah, I know." Jamil paused a moment, drew in a

breath, then began to climb.

Quong was right behind him, helping and offering en-

couragement. "That is correct. Balance the weight on

the uninjured leg. I am here behind you. Don't worry

about slipping. Don't think of the pain. Tuck it away in

a small recess in your mind."

"Doc," Jamil said, pausing, gasping in agony. He

pressed against the side of the Scimitar. "Shut up."

"That is very good)" said Quong, approving. "Take

your feelings of hostility out on me."

"What's up there?" Raoul asked suspiciously, halting

at the bottom of the ladder.

"A car&" said Xris. "Meant to look like a space-

plane."

 

"How quaint," Raoul commented, and climbed the

ladder after Quong.

The Little One glanced up, shook his head, heaved a

sigh, and ascended the ladder, considerably hampered in

this endeavor by the raincoat.

Tess stood at the door, lasgun in hand.

"More coming down the corridor, Xris," she reported.

"Fall back)" he ordered her. "Come on)"

She didn't need a second command. Running to the

ladder, she halted beside him, her lasgun in one hand,

Xris's arm in the other. "Up," he said.

Corasians trundled overhead on the catwalks above

the Scimitar. Xris could hear the creak of wheels, the

whir of the motors in the swiveling heads, lining up

the lasguns.

He fired off a round with the dampener, more to force

them to keep their distance than because he hoped to

hit anything.

"Get a move on)" he called.

Jami! collapsed, almost fell down the ladder. Quong

hung on to him, bellowed for help. Harry popped out of

the hatch. Between Harry and Quong, they pulled and

dropped Jamil inside the Scimitar.

"Live entertainment," Raoul remarked, and dropped

down inside the hatch.

Hands reached up to catch hold of the Little One.

"You're next," Xris said to Tess. "I'll cover you."

"Wrong," Tess returned. She plucked the dampener

from his hand. "You're a civilian, and wounded at that."

She jerked her head. "Get your ass up that ladder,

mister."

Turning, she fired the dampener. Her aim was much

better than Xris's could have ever been, even if he'd had

six good arms. She hit one Corasian; it spun out of con-

trol and tumbled off the catwalk.

Xris climbed the ladder awkwardly; it was a difficult

task with only one hand, but he made it.

"Tess!" he yelled, afraid for a moment that she was

going to try to square things by getting herself killed.

 

 

 

 

She slung the dampener over her shoulder, scrambled

up the ladder. Xris waited.

"Go!" She motioned him.

Laser fire struck the Scimitar. Xris jumped down into

the hatch. Tess tumbled after him amid a shower of

sparks. He caught her, held her a brief moment, long

enough for a smile between them.

Xris started to move forward, heading for the cockpit.

Tess stopped him, gently pushing him down into a seat

in the passenger area. "There's nothing you can do. You

need attention, and the Doc can't give it to you unless

you sit still. Face it, dear. You're useless without your

arm and with half your systems shorting out."

"I'm a control freak," he said. "Don't worry. I won't

get in the way."

"You're hopeless." Tess gave him a swift kiss on the

cheek, then hurried to the cockpit. By the sounds of it,

Harry already had the computer convinced that he was

today's pilot, and had taken over the controls manually.

The engines wound up. Tess sat down in the copilot seat.

Xris propped himself up behind her.

Jamil lay unconscious in a hammock. Quong rum-

maged through the spaceplane's medical supplies.

Raoul glared at him. "Waiter!" he finally called.

Xris, Harry, and Tess stared out the spaceplane's

viewscreen into a solid steel wall. The hanger bay doors

were shut and the Corasians probably meant for them

to stay that way.

"So, any ideas?" Tess asked.

Harry stared at the controls. "It appears friend Harsch

had some modifications made to this Scimitar. Watch

this!"

Harry depressed a button on the console. Four plasma

cannons on each wing blazed. The light was blinding.

All of them were forced to shield their eyes.

"Hang on!" Harry shouted. "This is gonna be wild!"

Xris grabbed hold of the ladder.

"Doors gone?"

"Dunno!" Harry returned. "I can't see!"

The spaceplane lurched, bucked, and suddenly shot

forward. Xris, his eyes shut against the glaring, painful

 

light, could only hope that this ride wasn't going to be

really short.

The light vanished. The plane did not smack into a

solid steel wall. Xris opened his eyes, pulled himself back

to a standing position.

"My God!" Tess whispered. "That was ... amazing."

The spaceplane, surrounded by millions of tiny pieces

of metal, hurtled away from the Corasian ship. The can-

nons had breached the hull doors, and the pressure of

the atmosphere did the rest, blasting the plane and all

of the contents of the hangar out into space.

"We ain't out of this yet," Harry muttered.

He swung the plane around and began to program the

Jump computer.

And then everything came to a halt.

"What the hell?" Xris clutched the seat for support.

"Tractor beam. Damn it! I thought the blast would

throw us clear. I can't break loose!" Harry looked over

his shoulder at Xris. "I think they got us this time."

"Then they can have us," Xris said. "I'm' too tired. I

don't care .... "

"Maybe not," said Tess softly. "Look."

Shafts of white-yellow light streaked out of nowhere,

coming from nothing that any of them could see.

"Lascannon fire," said Harry.

He looked at his instruments, looked up, somewhat

sheepishly, at Tess.

"That's the King James II out there."

"Yes," said Tess. "I know. Took them a bit longer to

arrive than I had anticipated, but--"

The Scimitar suddenly lurched forward. Harry was on

the controls immediately, took the spaceplane into a

steep dive underneath the lascannon fire.

"Tractor beam shut off," he reported unnecessarily.

The hulk of the King James II loomed into view, the

enormous vessel surrounded by other large warships, all

pouring fire into the Corasian mothership.

Nothing Xris had ever seen looked quite so beautiful.

 

 

 

 

CHRPIER

qq

 

La verite existe; on n'invente que le mesonge.

["Truth exists, only lies are invented."]

 

George Braque, Le jour et la nuit

 

Fighters, short-range Scimitars, and Claymore bombers

streaked past, wave after wave, heading for the Cora-

sian mothership. The Corasians hesitated, launched a

few of their own fighters, almost immediately pulled

them back. The enemy decided to head for home.

The King James H battle group, with its six warships,

two carriers, and hundreds of fighters, was there to see

that the Corasians didn't make it.

"We're free and clear," reported Harry. "Where to?"

He was looking wistfully at the fighters, now moving into

attack formation.

"Don't even think about it!" Xris said tiredly. "Take

us to the King James."

Tess looked back at Xris. "All right if I use the

corem? I have to report to the Admiralty. I'll tell them

about you and your team, Xris. How you got us off that

ship. I'll put in for commendations."

At the look on his face, her voice trailed off. She bit

her lip, lowered her eyes.

"Commendations." Xris was bitter. "Just have them

send that to Tycho's mother, will you?"

Tess said nothing. She turned away, reached for the

comm.

Okay, it was a cheap shot. Xris knew he'd hurt her,

 

knew she didn't deserve it, but he didn't much care. He

was feeling rotten inside and out, didn't see why every-

one else shouldn't feel the same way.

"Good news, guys," he announced, climbing the lad-

der, emerging into the small living quarters aboard the

Scimitar, "we're all going to get commendations."

"Make mine black, with lace," said Raoul drowsily.

He was swaying gently back and forth in one of the

hammocks that served as beds aboard the Scimitar. The

Little One sat on a bench below, keeping a worried

watch on his friend.

"I've given him a sedative," Quong said. "I believe he

has suffered a mild concussion. His memory is starting to

return, but he is dizzy and disoriented."

"Back to normal, huh?" Xris took out a twist, fum-

bling at the box with one hand, his good hand. He man-

aged to get the twist out, but dropped the box onto the

deck. Swearing, he started to give it a kick.

Quong intercepted him, picked up the box. He handed

it back to Xris.

"I will give you a sedative, too, my friend. Are you

in pain?" He looked at the mangled hardware, the fraz-

zled wires sticking out of Xris's left shoulder.

"Hell, no!" Xris chomped down on the twist, almost

bit it in two. "It doesn't hurt, Doc. It's not real!"

"I wasn't referring to your arm," Quong said quietly.

He handed Xris a cup of coffee.

Xris shook his head, accepted the coffee. "That kind

of pain, no sedative in the world can touch."

Quong nodded his head, returned to Jamil, who lay

stretched out in a hammock, his leg bandaged. He was

now awake and alert.

"Boy, I can pick 'em, can't I?" Xris said to Jamil,

while sitting down on the bench beside the Little One.

"What are we down this job? One Claymore, one PRRS,

one Lane-sucking robot, one civilian, my arm, your leg,

Raoul's mind, and two friends." Xris leaned back against

the bulkhead, closed his eyes. "Two friends."

He raised his coffee cup. "Here's to Darlene Rowan

and Tycho." He sipped at the coffee, took too big a

 

 

 

 

mouthful, burned hell out of the inside of his mouth. He

suffered in silence.

"I dunno," Jamil said after a moment. "I think it was

better Tycho went the way he did. When he found out

how much money we've lost on this job, the shock alone

would have killed him."

"And we don't know for certain that Darlene is

dead," Quong said.'

Xris shook his head again, sat holding the cooling cof-

fee. It tasted like mud.

Tess climbed the ladder, came to join them. "How are

you feeling?" she asked Jamil.

"Terrific. Nothing like a little shrapnel tearing through

your leg. Makes you appreciate life. Grab me some cof-

fee, will you, Doc?"

Quong moved over to the small dispenser, poured cof-

fee, brought a cup for himself and one for Jamil. The

Little One huddled into a ball, buffeted by waves of

rough emotions. Raoul fell asleep. Down in the cockpit,

Harry could be heard, talking to the King James 1I, re-

questing clearance to land.

Tess stood, hands on her hips. Her gaze swept all of

them, halted when it came to Xris. "Look. I'll say it. I'm

sorry. I'm damn sorry. About your friends, 1 mean."

"Don't apologize," Xris said. "You did your job. You

did what you set out to do. At least, that's what I'm

Or ' ,,

~,uesslng.

"I'm not apologizing for doing my job," Tess said.

"You're right. I did do what I set out to do. I stopped

Nick Harsch from selling technology to the Cotasians. 1

kept that robot out of his hands and out of the Corasian

galaxy. Who knows how many lives we saved?"

"I only know that we lost quite a few on the way,"

Xris said.

"Stop whining! So the job didn't turn out to be the

easy, cushy chance to make a fortune that you expected.

The mercenary trade is a risky one. If you can't take it,

I suggest you find another line of work!"

She was angry now, too angry to talk. Small red dots

burned in her cheeks, her eyes glinted. She headed for

the ladder, for the cockpit below.

 

"Tess," Xris said. "One question.'*

She halted, not looking around. "What?" Her voice

was hard.

"Why didn't you tell us the truth?"

"We would have helped you nail that bastard,"

Jamil said.

"You only had to ask politely," Quong added.

Slowly, Tess turned back, faced them. She glared

around at them, truly exasperated. "Tell you the truth!

How the hell could I? How could I trust you?"

"Ah," said Xris, enlightened. "You couldn't trust us!

I get it now. This from a woman with so many angles she

would have made an honors class study for geometry."

The corner of Tess's mouth twitched. She tried to stay

mad, but she couldn't. She even managed a small

chuckle. "All right. I guess I earned that one. I'll tell you

everything, okay? Then you can judge for yourselves.

"Navy Intelligence has known about Nick Harsch and

his dealings with the Corasians for years, but, like I told

you earlier, Xris, we could never catch him, He had a

contact in the top levels of the Navy, someone feeding

him information. We found out who the person was and

took him out--very quietly, no publicity. What we refer

to as 'early retirement.' We figured Harsch would try to

find someone else. NI chose me for the job. I set myself

up. Lost lots of money at the gaming tables, let it be

known that I needed credits and needed them bad or

my career was down the toilet.

"NI thought for a while Harsch wasn't going to bite,

but then we intercepted one of his shipments to Corasia,

confiscated the weapons. Harsch lost big. Shortly after

that, one of his agents contacted me. After some negoti-

ation, I agreed to work for him.

"I proved my worth, warned him in advance of a cou-

ple of raids. Problem was, I never met the man. He

handled everything third- or fourth-hand. We needed

something big to lure him out,"

"Lasairion's sad-eyed robot," said Quong.

"Exactly. It was perfect. The Pandorans were kicking

up a fuss about the robot. The Admiralty promptly over-

reacted, made it all hush-hush. level-one security, for-

 

 

 

 

your-eyes-only, DNA-check-your-spit type of stuff. Of

course, as you said, Dr. Quong, these Lane-laying robots

were programmed to respond only to Lasairion. So we

didn't think there was much danger."

"I can't believe Harsch didn't know that," Xris said.

"He was a deal maker, an entrepreneur. He's like a

used vehic dealer, who wouldn't know a gravator from

a generator. What he did know was his customers and

what they wanted and needed. When he told the Cor-

asians about the robot, they were wild to have it. They

promised to set him up in luxury for life."

Tess sighed, ran her hand through her hair. "That's

when everything started falling apart."

"Coffee?" Quong asked, and went to get her a cup.

"Thanks. Everything was going according to plan. I

became Captain Strauss of the Army and managed to

get myself stationed on Pandor, which was easy, because

most military personnel are busy trying to get themselves

transferred off Pandor. No one on base knew I was

working for NI, not even the colonel. That's how secret

this operation was.

"I examined the robot myself. I swear to God"--Tess

gave Xris a wry grin--"that 'hot was broken. I couldn't

get it to function. Of course, I didn't dare move it, not

then, not while we were trying to smooth things over

with the Pandorans. But I scanned it and it checked out

as unworkable. What the devil did you do to it?"

~'Bumped into it. Jostled it. I don't know."

"A broken connection," Quong said. "A short in the

wiring. Something that wouldn't necessarily show up

on scans."

"At any rate, I reported to NI that the 'bot was safe.

Boy, was I wrong on that one!" Tess sighed, sat nursing

the coffee cup in her hands, as if trying to warm them.

"We figured Harsch would ask me to steal the robot.

We had it all planned. I was going to snatch it, put the

bomb in it, hand it over to Harsch. I made sure it would

go to Harsch himself. That was part of the deal. I refused

to deliver it otherwise. He agreed.

"We wanted to catch him alive, of course, to interro-

gate him, find out just what secrets he'd passed on to

 

the enemy. But if that didn't work out, the bomb would

see to it that he never sold anything to the Corasians

again. Unfortunately, Harsch had other ideas. He didn't

want me to steal the 'bot, he didn't want to risk my

being caught. He said he would hire someone to steal

the robot for him. He asked me if I knew anyone."

"You recommended us," Xris said, starting now to see

the whole picture.

"The Lord Admiral recommended you, 1 gave your

name to Harsch. From that point on, you know what

happened. I arranged for Jamil to be transported to the

King James H without causing suspicion, arranged for

you, Xris, to sneak off base. If everything had gone ac-

cording to plan, you and Jamil would have put the bomb

in the robot yourselves, delivered it to Harsch at Hell's

Outpost--"

"He sells the 'bot and us to the Corasians." Xris

shook his head. "Thank the Lord Admiral for the rec-

ommendation, but tell him from now on we find our

own jobs."

"I don't think Harsch planned to double-cross you.

Not at the beginning. He was a sharp businessman and

he knew when he had a good thing going. But nothing

went according to plan."

"I still don't see why you couldn't have told us all the

truth," Jamil said. "You told us part of it."

"Well, I didn't want to blow my cover, for one thing.

If this failed, N1 would still need me to spy on Harsch.

And for another, what was I to think when the whole

damned team showed up? Maybe you're going to try

to double-cross Harsch. Maybe you're working for him.

Maybe you're in this up to your eyeballs. Maybe you'd

help me and maybe you'd sell me out. How could I

know?"

"You knew," Xris said softly. He stared at the cold

coffee.

Tess sat down beside him, put her hand on his knee.

"All right. I knew. And if it had just been me--my life--

on the line, I would have told you. But there were more.

Countless more. Everything was falling apart, all around

me. First the robot works when it isn't supposed to.

 

 

 

 

Then Grant shows up with the professor's unit. Then the

robot escapes and takes Grant with it. Then the blasted

robot begins taking out Lanes. Then Harsch hears that

the robot's taking out Lanes--" "From you."

"Not from me. Apparently he's got more than one

spy in the Navy. Anyway, he passes the news to the

Corasians, raises the price.

"The Corasians are so excited that they send one of

their motherships over here to pick up the 'bot in per-

son. They tell him to bring the 'bot to the ship directly.

"Harsch wasn't pleased about that, but he didn't have

much choice. The Corasians let Harsch know that they

would be very unhappy if he didn't deliver, might start

attacking a few of our outposts.

"And so now what do I do?" Tess appealed to them.

"If the Navy flies in to take out the Corasians, we lose

Harsch. If we lost the robot, we lose Harsch. Harsch

loses the Corasians. The Corasians attack our outposts.

God! I got lost myself trying to solve that one.

"But then, suddenly, everything's all right!" Tess

spread her hands. "We recover the robot. I think, fine,

we can carry out the mission as planned. Everything's

on track. And then you"--she looked at Xris--"want to

chuck the whole thing and run off on some godforsaken

rescue mission!"

Xris sat silent, sucking the flavor out of the wad of

the twist in his mouth.

"All right, so I have a suspicious nature," Tess said.

"In my business, that's what keeps you alive. I won-

dered: Were you really ready to chuck the job and go

off on a mission you knew was hopeless? Or did you

intend to steal the robot, now that you knew how valu-

able it was? All my doubts came back. I had to do one

thing: Get the robot to Harsch. And I had to do it fast.

Maybe I made a mistake, threatening to blow up the

plane. Maybe I should have just told you the truth, but

even now, looking back on it, I don't see where I could

have reasonably made any other decision."

"She's got a point, Xris," Jamil said. "A lot of what

we did wasn't real bright."

 

"Ali's well that ends well," Quong observed with a

shrug. "Harsch will never again sell technology to the

enemy. And the Corasians will not be able to build space

Lanes or take them out. Tycho died for a worthy cause.

He deserves a commendation."

"I'm not sure the rest of us do. One thing." Xris lifted

his head, looked at Tess. "Why did you gas us when we

landed oil the Corasian ship?"

"Because you were going to fight to the death. I knew

that. I couldn't allow that to happen. I knew then that

you were on the level. It was my responsibility to see

that you came out of this alive, if I could. I figured that

once we were on board, we'd at least stand a chance.

As it turned out, I made yet another mistake." "You lost Jeffrey Grant."

"That was a last-minute thing. I don't know quite why

I did it or what I hoped would happen. It's just... I felt

so sorry for him. He was the innocent bystander. He

didn't ask for any of this. I knew Harsch and the Cor-

asians would come on board the PRRS to pick up the

robot. I figured that once they found it, they'd leave

without bothering to search the rest of the spaceplane."

"What did you plan to do with him then?" Quong

asked.

"When I boarded the Corasian mothership, 1 sent a

secret signal to the King James II, giving them our loca-

tion. I knew the Navy was on its way. I figured Grant

would stay hidden until I could come back for him. What

I didn't count on was the fact that Jeffrey Grant not

only hid himself, he hid the robot, too."

"So that's what happened to it," Xris said.

"That's all 1 can think of. Harsch was furious when

he couldn't find it. Furious and scared. He knew what

the Corasians would do to him if he came up empty-

handed. At least it gave me a chance to keep you alive,

Xris. The Corasians wanted to dissect you oll the spot.

I told Harsch that you had hidden the robot. He ordered

the Corasians to keep you alive until he found out

where."

"We owe you our lives, Captain," Quong said for-

 

 

 

 

mally, and made a little bow. "I, for one, extend my

thanks."

"Me, too," said Jamil. "And if Xris there doesn't offer

to take you someplace romantic and treat you to cham-

pagne and a chance to watch the moon rise over the

ocean, you let me know."

"You don't owe me anything," Tess said, her face

flushed. "I botched this job from the beginning. If it

hadn't been for you, for all of you ..."

Xris took out another twist. "Let's call it even."

"Xris!" Harry shouted up the ladder. "Message for

you. From the Admiralty."

Xris wondered what this was all about, figured it must

be Dixter waiting to offer his heartfelt thanks. At the

moment, Xris wasn't in the mood. He stood up reluc-

tantly, walked past Harry, headed for the cockpit.

Xris threw himself into the pilot's chair, faced the

comm.

"Xris here," he said.

A face appeared, but it wasn't the rugged, aging face

of the Lord Admiral. It was ...

"Darlene!" Xris breathed. He was on his feet, leaning ú

out to the screen, actually touching the screen as if he

could touch her, make sure she was alive.

"Hi, Xris," Darlene said. "Good to see you."

"It's damn good to see you!" he said fervently. "What

happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. So's everyone on board the cruise ship. We

didn't make the Jump into hyperspace. We weren't in

the Lane when the robot took it out. But the ship was

damaged by the explosion and we lost communications."

"Explosion? What explosion?"

"When my window blew out."

"Your ..." Xris stared at her. "What--"

Darlene grinned. "It's a long story. I'll have to tell

you later. The captain won't let me talk long. I'm

under arrest."

"Arrest!" Xris was completely baffled. He didn't even

know where to begin. "Look, just answer me one thing.

Are you okay?"

"The captain's turning me over to the Navy. I'm under

 

twenty-four-hour guard. I'm fine, Xris. Good-bye for

now. I'll see you soon. Tell little Harry and the rest of

the 'kids' I said hi." She waved at him.

Her image faded away, was replaced by the grinning

face of Mendaharin Tusca.

"Don't worry, Xris," Tusk said. "We know what's

going on. We'll keep her safe."

"Thank you, Tusk," said Xris. "I mean that. And tell

the Lord Admiral thanks, too."

"And our thanks to you, Xris. You and your team.

Oh, by the way, we recovered your Claymore. We'll

have it fixed up, returned to you. And the Navy will

probably be able to find some money to reimburse you

for your time."

"Do me a favor, will you, Tusk? You heard about

Tycho? Send that money to his family. I'll let you know

where, who to contact."

Tusk nodded. "Sure thing. See you on board, Xris."

The screen went dark.

The Scimitar cruised toward the massive King James

II. Harry turned over control to the computer, went up

to give the rest the news.

Xris spent a moment alone, gave his thanks to Who-

ever might be listening. He took another moment to ask

that same quiet Listener to take good care of Tycho.

Then he called up, "Tess, can you come down here

a second?"

She came to him, her expression troubled. "What is

it, Xris? You sound so solemn."

He took hold of her hand with his good hand, his

only hand. "Is Jamil right? Are you into champagne and

moonlit beaches?"

Tess smiled. "Actually, I'm more into beer and cheap

motel rooms, but--"

He took her into his arms--make that arm--and

kissed her.

Up above, Jamil whistled, Harry chortled, the Little

One stomped his feet, Quong scolded the others for

being crass, and Raoul--waking briefly--asked for sonle-

one to bring him his lip gloss.

"One more question," said Xris, when he was free for

 

 

 

 

talking. "What happened to Jeffrey Grant and the

robot?"

"We're not sure," Tess said. "We hope to find him

soon. The robot is immensely valuable to us now. For

the first time, we have one that works and we have the

professor's unit."

"So what's the problem?" Xris asked. "Find Grant

and take the robot back. He won't be happy, but then,

he's a civilian."

"I wish it were that easy." Tess sighed. "You see, I

told you one other little lie. I didn't plant a real bomb

in the PRRS. The bomb Harry found when he scanned

was a decoy.

"I put the real bomb in the robot."

 

CHflPIER

 

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard

Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on . . .

 

John Keats, Ode on a Grecian Urn

 

Jeffrey Grant managed to escape the Corasians quite

easily. He simply sat down in the pilot's seat, ordered

the computer to launch the PRRS, and then flew off. He

expected someone to shoot at him. No one did.

He expected to be caught in a tractor beam.

No beam appeared.

The Corasian collective mind was focused on other,

more important details. such as endeavoring to discover

the whereabouts of the robot and the acquisition of sev-

eral prime hunks of meat. The collective mind paid no

attention to Jeffrey Grant.

One might say it was the story of his life.

Mildly amazed at the ease of his escape, expecting

any second to be surrounded by Corasian fighters, Grant

nervously ordered the computer to find the nearest space

Lane and jump into it.

The computer located the Lane, but reported that ac-

cess was prohibited. Another ship or plane was occu-

pying it at the time. Afraid that the Corasians were

going to catch him, Grant flew on and eventually located

another Lane.

This one was free. The PRRS made the jump.

 

 

 

 

The ship in the first Lane was the King James II, but

Jeffrey Grant was never to know that.

While in hyperspace, on his way back to XIO, he

spent the time polishing the robot, making it ready.

 

It occurred to Jeffrey Grant, just prior to landing, that

the people at the rental-plane agency might take excep-

tion to the fact that he had lost their plane. While still

in orbit above the planet, Grant contacted the agency,

and attempted to explain.

"I had it parked on Pandot, you see, and left it only

for a moment to go look--"

"Trant?" said the young woman. "Jeremiah Trant?"

"Grant," said Jeffrey humbly. "Jeffrey Grant. I was

only gone amo--"

"Ah, Mr. Grant! No need to worry. Your rental plane

was returned."

"It was?" Grant realized a bit late he shouldn't sound

surprised. 'q mean ... so it was. Should have been. I'm

glad. Is ... is everything all right?"

"Yes, Mr. Grant. The gentleman returned the plane,

said that you would no longer be requiring it, and paid

the bill in full."

What she did not tell Jeffrey Grant was that the pilot

who had returned the plane had arrived under Naval

escort, had flashed his Naval Intelligence ID and had

asked to be contacted if anyone named Jeffrey Grant

turned up inquiring about the rental plane.

Jeffrey Grant was relieved and bothered at the same

time. He was relieved over the fact that the plane was

back--he had been wondering how he was going to pay

for its loss.

He was bothered by its unexpected return.

He had the feeling that someone was following him.

All kinds of wild schemes and evasion plans flooded

Grant's mind, caused it--like an old-fashioned gas-

powered engine--to stall out. Eventually Grant did what

he had been planning to do ever since he escaped the

Corasian mothership. He landed the PRRS in a field

about fifty kilometers outside on XIO City.

Once down, he packed the robot in its crate. Using

 

the remote control. Grant activated the robot's crate,

guided it to the hatch of the PRRS. Before he left, Jef-

frey Grant wrote out a brief note of apology to the

Royal Navy, explaining that he hadn't really meant to

steal their spaceplane, thanked the Navy for all it had

done for him and the galaxy. He left the note on the

console.

Grant made a final tour of the plane, picked up a

briefcase which one of the Army officers had left behind,

then exited the PRRS. Grant made certain the door was

locked, then--briefcase in one hand, remote in the

other--he led the robot, concealed in its crate, out of a

corn field and onto the main highway.

They hitched a ride with a graytruck into town.

 

Jeffrey Grant sat at the cluttered desk in his small

museum, penning meticulously and neatly the words on

the placard.

LANE-LAYING ROBOT. CIRCA 2180. INVENTED, DESIGNED.

AND BUILT BY COLIN LASAIRION, PH.D. FOR FURTHER INFOR-

MATION, ASK CURATOR.

Grant had been a bit hesitant about adding that last

notation--foreseeing endless questions from tourists--

but he believed that it was his duty to do what he could

to educate his fellow man. He printed in bold letters

across the bottom, DO NOT TOUCH.

He allowed the ink on the placard to dry, then set the

placard in its stand.

Jeffrey Grant stepped back. Folding his hands to-

gether, he silently, calmly, proudly regarded a dream.

The robot with the sad eyes stood in the place of

honor in the quiet little museum, against the far wall,

directly across from the front door. The machine, desig-

nated as a Collimated Command Receiver Unit, stood

at the robot's side. The blue light no longer flashed, the

machine no longer hummed. But the soothing light from

its screen--light which Jeffrey Grant had always found

very attractive--glowed brightly.

Perhaps it was the angle of the light, shining up from

underneath the robot, that caused the humanlike eyes

of the robot to change expression. They looked--at least

 

 

 

 

to Jeffrey Grant--almost happy. Either that, or the

robot, now surrounded by familiar items from the past,

felt truly at home here. Jeffrey Grant hoped that it was

the latter.

He studied the exhibit a long time. He rearranged one

of the robot's telescopic arms at a better, more lifelike

angle. He dusted all the rest of the objects in the mu-

seum, arranged and neatly stacked his old books.

Then he went on a search throughout the rest of the

building, looking for other occupants, thinking that per-

haps someone might have moved in while he was gone.

But no one had. It was a holiday on XIO. The building

was empty.

Grant returned to the museum, waited for an hour or

so to see if tourists would arrive.

None came. The street, as usual, was deserted.

Grant took one last look around, to make certain that

all was as it should be. It was.

He picked up the briefcase, walked out the door,

made certain--fussily--that the door was locked. He

walked down the street, walked several blocks, until he

was in sight of his house.

Something unusual was happening at his house. Police

cars, their lights flashing, were parked out in front, along

with several expensive-looking vehics that were not

marked. His neighbors had gathered in his yard. As he

watched, avid news crew pulled up.

Jeffrey Grant sat down on a bench at a bus stop. He

could see, up the street, the building that housed his

museum. He could see, down the street, his house.

Jeffrey Grant opened the briefcase. He reached inside.

and pressed a small red button.

The explosion blew out the front of the museum, took

down the entire building, sent a cloud of dust and debris

a hundred meters into the air. The tremendous blast

shook the ground.

Men in uniform dashed out of Jeffrey Grant's house

at a run. Heads turned. Fingers pointed to the rising

column of smoke. The neighbors surged after them. Po-

 

lice sirens began to wail. Police cars sped past Jeffrey

Grant.

The unmarked expensive vehics soared into the air.

They flew past Jeffrey Grant.

Tile vid crew, which had, by purest chance, a vidcam

aimed in the right direction, was going on the air, live.

The crew roared past Jeffrey Grant.

Jeffrey Grant's neighbors, who mostly didn't know

him, ran past him, hastening to the scene of the disaster.

Jeffrey Grant sat on the bench at the bus stop and

happily explained to a young child, who had come out

to watch the police cars, all about Professor Lasairion's

wonderful Lane-laying robots.