Buck Rogers 2 - That Man on Beta (9 page)

Diminutive as he was, Huer stood over the form of Buck who slumped despondently on the floor of his cell.

“I have only one thing to ask you, Buck,” the old scientist said in mild, low tones. Then, his voice rising surprisingly to a near shout, “What the hell is going on?”

Startled from his somnolence, Buck struggled to answer. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything,” he said. “I just wanted to find some trace of my family. Sorry I lost a landcar, you can take it out of my salary. Come to think of it, Doc, what does a rock-jock in the Inner City defense squadron get paid anyhow? I’ve been around this place for a while now, and I always seem to have enough petty cash to get by on, but when does the eagle really fly?”

“Eagle fly? What are you talking about?” Huer asked.

“I mean—oh, never mind. I was just asking when payday comes around. I guess I’ll really have to pay for that landcar I lost.”

“The landcar isn’t the only thing you lost,” Huer voiced firmly.

“It isn’t?” Buck echoed.

“No, it certainly isn’t,” Dr. Huer supplied.

“Oh, let me think,” Buck rubbed his temples. After a few seconds the expression on his haggard face altered. “Oh, yeah—I do remember now.”

“I’m glad you do.”

“Yeah, Doc. I’m really sorry. Those computer brains must really be expensive. I’m sorry that I traded it away—I guess it’ll take me a while to pay that off. But I’ll make a start this very first payday.”

Huer shook his head despairingly. “I’m not talking about any piece of machinery, Captain Rogers. Are you not aware that Colonel Deering has also failed to return?”

“Colonel Deering? You mean Wilma? Wilma’s missing?” Buck pushed himself up on his elbows, struggled to his feet despite the weakness that almost brought him crashing again to the floor. This was the first real animation Buck had shown since Huer’s arrival in his cell. “But what does Wilma have to do with it?” Rogers asked.

“I’m afraid she’s been captured, Buck. She’s very likely in the hands of enemies—if she’s still alive at all.”

“Doc! This is terrible! We have to do something about this.” Buck was weaving back and forth, as he forced his weary body to stay upright. “We have to get her back!

“But—Doc, Wilma Deering wasn’t with me. I went out of the city—I know it was against orders. I was trying to find some evidence of my family. But I was all alone.”

“Yes, Buck, we know that. But what
you
seem not to know is that Colonel Deering cares about you very deeply. She was very worried over your mysterious conduct, and she followed you to find out where you were going—and why.

“Now, listen to me,” Huer’s eyes bored into Buck’s, even through the old scientist’s thick-lensed spectacles. “You’ve got to help me figure this out, Buck. And we can worry about the other matters later. Buck, based on your own travels, have you any idea where Wilma might have become lost—or injured—or captured?”

Buck took his bead in his hands and tugged at his hair as if to pull an answer through his skull. “Yes!” he exclaimed. “I’ve got it! It must have been those shepherds. Or—phony shepherds.”

“What shepherds, Buck? There are no shepherds anywhere near the Inner City.”

“I know that, Doc. This was at the old Mount Rushmore Memorial. Way back, even before my day, some sculptor carved the faces of four former presidents of the United States into the side of a mountain out in South Dakota. I found out that there was a man living near there. An old, old man named Aris, who might be able to help me with the information I was after.

“I took a landcar and drove there to find Aris. I did, too—living in a cave right under the memorial. When I got back to my landcar there were some strange-looking shepherds hanging around, and—”

Dr. Huer interrupted his narration. “What do you mean by ‘strange-looking,’ Buck? They were human, weren’t they?”

Buck frowned, recalling the faces he had seen briefly in his battle with the pseudo sheepherders. “They were human,” he said, “but they looked somehow—unearthly. I’m pretty sure they must have been—Draconians! I didn’t think of it at the moment, everything was happening so fast, Doc—but I’m sure, now, that they were definitely Draconians!”

“And you think they took Wilma?” Huer prodded.

“They must have! They got her, if she was there. And they got my landcar, too! I had to walk all the way back to the Inner City. That’s why I was gone so long—and it nearly killed me, into the bargain.”

“I see, I see.” Now it was Huer’s turn to become agitated. He paced up and down, impatiently turning every time he reached the limit of the cell’s light-wall. “All right, Buck,” he stopped his pacing. “There’s only one course to follow. We’ve got to organize a rescue expedition and head back to Mount Rushmore.”

“That wouldn’t do any good,” Buck countered. “I’m sure those shepherds wouldn’t be there any more. In fact, I heard them leave in my own landcar before I started my walk back here.

“If Wilma overheard my conversation with old Aris—or if the Draconians found Aris and questioned him themselves—then the only place they’d be is—Salt Lake City!”

“What’s that? I never heard of such a city.”

“It’s a place where there was a genealogical-records center. Old Aris knew about it. The shepherds would know that I was headed there. They might have Wilma there, or if they’ve taken her elsewhere—maybe even somewhere off-planet—I’ve still got to go to Salt Lake. That’s where
they
would be looking for
me.
Now I’ve got to play into their hands, or seem to, so they can lead me to wherever they’ve taken Wilma!”

“I don’t know, Buck,” Huer shook his head doubtfully. “The more complex your scheme grows, the less I find myself liking it.”

“Doc, we’ve got to! It’s the only chance!”

“Well—” Huer paused, deep in thought. Finally he yielded. “All right, I’ll concede this much. I’ll take it up with my personal counselor. I’ll consult the greatest computer brain yet constructed. Dr. Theopolis.”

“No, Doc,” Buck said sadly.

Huer looked up from his mood of concentration. “No, you say?”

“No.” Buck shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Because Theopolis isn’t here any more. I was just starting to tell you that when you changed the subject. I’m afraid that I traded him to a gypsy named Pandro for the information that Aris was still alive and could help me with my quest.”

“Oh, my, oh, my,” Huer said over and over. “Then I’m afraid that my only other course will have to be to appeal to the full council. And when I do that, and they hear of your escapades and the way you lost both Wilma and Theopolis, they’re going to be very upset with me—and very, very,
very
upset with you, Buck!”

The Inner City Council of Computers met in a secure chamber in the heart of the Palace of Mirrors. There were levels and degrees of security clearance to be passed through before anyone could begin to approach the council chamber, and by the time anyone reached the chamber itself, he had passed the ultimate tests of loyalty and reliability of the Inner City—or had been dragged there unwillingly, a prisoner brought to face the bar of justice.

In today’s proceeding, Dr. Huer and Captain Buck Rogers had given their testimony and then been excused while the computer brains went to their private deliberations. Each brain was a device of data circuits and processor arrays, microminiaturized storage units and advanced-logic pathways. All were similar, and all were housed in like plexiglass cases, but in their innermost circuitry no two were quite identical. It was as if a council of the wisest of human minds had assembled: all alike in outer form (more or less) and all alike in inner function (also more or less), but all unique as well, each the individual product of a special combination of heredity and environment unlike, in whatever great or small manner, the others.

Their names hardly mattered.

Their backgrounds, their unique capabilities, were hidden inside those identical plexiglass cases. But their deliberations sounded like this:

“The man is a menace. He should be banned from the city.”

“No, that’s too good for him. He has lost the commander of our finest fighter squadron, and the most complex and advanced computer advisor in our own ranks—our very good friend and colleague Theopolis.”

“We must be rational about this. After all, we are computers ourselves, not protoplasm beings like the humans. The question before us is this: shall we allow Captain Rogers to go to this Salt Lake City place, and perhaps be taken prisoner by the Draconians, in the hopes of retrieving Colonel Deering or Dr. Theopolis?”

“No! We must simplify matters. Deering and Theopolis are lost! We had best keep Rogers a prisoner and prevent his doing still more harm!”

“Now, wait, my friends. What will best serve the Inner City? That must be our prime guiding principle in all things. This man is from the twentieth century. His knowledge of the past is a unique resource. Further, he is a born pilot, an expert rocket flyer. He is too valuable to waste, sitting and rotting in a light-cell.”

“On the other hand, Colonel Deering and Dr. Theopolis are also valuable members of the city—too valuable to let go of without at least an attempt to regain them. This man is our only link to their disappearance and our hope for getting them back! We have to let him try, for the good of the city.”

“That does compute, doesn’t it?”

“I’m afraid it does. I dislike doing so, but I fear I have to agree.”

“Yes, I agree also.”

“Very well, then, we have reached our consensus. The council is agreed that Rogers will be freed—not cleared of the charges against him, but rather offered his freedom as an opportunity to go after the others and try to rescue one or both of them!”

Buck was sitting in Dr. Huer’s office when word of the council’s decision arrived. He had been cleaned up since his arrival back at the Inner City and his incarceration in the light-cell. His hair was combed now, his face smooth-shaven, his tattered rags replaced by a sleek set of male garb.

His tormented body had been rebuilt by good eating and special nutrient supplements. He was strong and spry, ready to return to whatever action presented itself.

Dr. Huer received the official notification of the council’s command and informed Buck of it. “I’m not thrilled,” the aged savant commented. “You’re neither convicted nor cleared, Buck. You’re to be freed conditionally, in hopes of getting back Wilma and Theopolis.”

“Good,” Rogers snapped. “I don’t care what kind of official stamp those boxes of dry cells put on my papers. The important thing is that they’re willing to let me go after Wilma.”

Huer stared at Buck.

“And Theopolis,” the latter added. “I miss Theo, too, Doc. But after all, he
is
just a machine!”

“I’m not sure that I’d agree with you on that point,” Dr. Huer countered, “and I doubt very much that Dr. Theopolis would! But—as soon as Ellis 14 arrives with your special equipment, we can start getting you ready to go.”

“Who’s Ellis 14?” Buck asked.

“Why, he’s here now,” Huer replied, as a panel slid open in the wall and a tall figure emerged from it.

Ellis 14 was as tall as Buck Rogers. He had a shimmering metallic skin, a slim but powerful build, and a graceful, confident way of moving himself. He was a sort of male analogue of the female secretarial robot in the outer office, Lisa 5.

“How do you do, Captain Rogers,” Ellis 14 said in an electronic voice. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise,” Buck mumbled, not certain whether it was etiquette to offer to shake hands with a robot.

“I’m your armorer,” Ellis 14 intoned. “I’ve brought you some equipment for use on your new mission. Here,” he said, extending a laser-gun toward Buck, hilt first, “your personal hand-weapon. Please be careful with it. Please do not point it at any person or object you do not mean to destroy. That includes me. It is capable of cutting through twelve senks of alum.”

Buck took the pistol and slipped it into his belt.

Ellis 14 held a small, soft case toward Buck. “This is your survival kit,” the robot said. “It contains first-aid devices as well as signaling and survival gear. Notable features are the blood-stop, brace clamp, emergency protein supply, moisture synthesizer, and solar-storage blanket.”

“I wish I’d had this on my way back from Rushmore,” Buck commented.

“That is regrettable,” the robot answered. “The kit is a non-sensitive item and would have been available to you upon request, Captain Rogers. Why did you not draw one before departing Inner City?”

“Never mind,” Buck said. “How’s about a spare pair of socks?”

“Notice the linear extrusions on the outer surface of the survival kit,” Ellis 14 answered. “Emergency clothing supplies contained therein are made to expand upon contact with outer atmosphere and/or vacuum to counteract the special contractile storage conditions of the container.”

“I’m sorry I asked,” Buck said huskily.

“Also,” Ellis 14 said, “here is your line-beam.” He handed Buck a tiny package hardly bigger than a .22-caliber cartridge. “Hide this anywhere upon your person, or leave it in a place of your own selection for alternate usage. It is a line-transmitting device which emits a unique pulsating signal which we can detect and locate from selected monitoring stations. Its range is indefinite and its speed of propagation, as yet unmeasured, appears to approach the instantaneous.”

“What’s he talking about, Doc?” Buck asked Dr. Huer.

“What he’s saying, Buck, is that if you keep that line-beam on your person, we can locate you, at any time, any place in the known universe. Or, if you leave it somewhere else, we can locate the line-beam itself.”

“Ah
-hah
!” Buck commented. “O
-kay
! You guys have some hotshot equipment section around here. You’ve come a long way since old oh-oh-whatsiz-name’s day!”

The door from Dr. Huer’s reception room opened and the Lisa 5 secretarial robot entered the inner office. She handed a message to Dr. Huer. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Doctor. I think this may be very urgent.”

Huer accepted the scrap of message paper from the robot.

Meanwhile Buck was watching a bit of amazing interplay between the Lisa 5 and the Ellis 14 robots. As the secretarial model entered the room the armorer had followed her every move with the electro-optical scanners that he used for eyes.