Robot Blues (28 page)

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Authors: Margaret Weis,Don Perrin

BOOK: Robot Blues
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Harry’s eyes
widened. He gave a low whistle. “I’ll be swizzled,” he said, awed.

Quong evinced
interest by sitting up straighter in his chair. “It is in working condition?”

“We think so,”
Tess replied cautiously. “We can’t be certain until we run tests on it—”

“It works,” Xris
stated. “At least it lights up and talks. And it’s mobile. And it may or may
not lay lanes. What does that mean? It works in a bowling alley? I still don’t
get it.”

“Space Lanes,
Xris,” Harry said, eager, excited. “We studied about these robots in school. I
did a report on them in sixth grade. I got an A. Hey, I think I’ve still got
the report back home. I could ask my mom to send it—”

“How is your
mother?” inquired Quong.

“Oh, she’s fine.
She sends her best.”

“A very gracious
lady,” Raoul murmured, his voice muffled in his arms.

“Yes, our best to
Mrs. Luck,” Xris said through clenched teeth. “Now, if we could return to
business? Fine. Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing in physics class
something about Lane-laying robots. They built the hyperspace Lanes, or some
such thing.”

“Yes, indeed,”
said Tess. “And if this robot is, in fact, one of those very same robots, and
is in working condition, then this discovery is of monumental importance. And
it could be very dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands.”

“Why? I admit it
would be interesting from a scientific standpoint. A real museum piece, but—”

“It’s like this,
Xris,” Tess explained. “Back in the early days of space travel, about the time
of the Black Earth wars and the ecological disaster which followed, these
robots—or rather, the scientist who created them—”

“Professor Colin
Lasairion,” Harry interjected, proud of his knowledge. “He discovered how to
warp space in order to form the hyperspace Lanes that let us move through space
but not time. That was always the main problem with faster-than-light travel.
Professor Lasairion was of Irish descent and he—”

“Save it for the
term paper,” Xris snapped. “Go on, Captain Strauss. The short form.”

“The short form is
Tess,” she said.

“I meant about the
robot.”

“Oh, that. Well,
Pilot Luck is right,” Tess continued, “Professor Lasairion built over one hundred
of these Lane-laying robots, sent them out in unmanned spaceplanes to ‘build’
the Lanes. For forty years, the robots traveled throughout the galaxy, using
the Lanes they’d built in the beginning to reach other Lanes, expanding ever
outward. The professor kept an enormous and complex map of all the Lanes,
ensuring that no Lane would intersect with another or travel too close to
another because, of course, any ship moving that fast colliding with another
ship ...”

She shrugged. “They’d
both be vaporized. The professor also developed the scanning devices that
ascertain whether or not a Lane is clear before a ship makes the Jump into it.
Professor Lasairion made it possible for thousands to flee a dying Earth, find
new lives on new worlds in outer space.”

“Throw the man a
fish,” Xris stated. “He was a genius and now we’re left with an old robot. I
still don’t see what makes this ‘bot valuable—outside of the science fair at
Harry’s grade school.”

“Lasairion was a
genius. He was ahead of his time,” Tess said gravely. “So far ahead, in fact,
that no one since has ever been able to duplicate his work.”

“1 can’t believe
you don’t know about this, Xris!” Harry was shocked. “Didn’t you ever wonder
why no one’s ever built any new space Lanes?”

“Yeah,” Xris said,
taking out another twist. “I lay awake nights worrying about it.”

“That is because
you are not a pilot, my friend,” Dr. Quong said. “Or a merchant in one of the
newly emerging planets that are light-years away from the Lanes. If you were,
you would know that the need for more Lanes is critical. This robot could
provide us with the basics scientists could use in order to duplicate the
professor’s work. I congratulate the NI, Captain,” he added, making Tess a
small bow. “This was excellent detective work.”

“We’ve been
searching for such a robot for years,” she said. “Every time an ancient crash
site is uncovered, we always hope that this will be the site to contain one of
the Lane-lying robots—one that either crashed or was shot down—”

“Shot down?” Xris
halted her story. “You said the planes were unmanned. Someone went around
shooting down Lane-laying robots? What for? Some crazed ‘bot-hater?”

“The professor had
enemies. A
lot
of enemies. Religious fanatics, who believed that man was
not meant to leave Earth, travel among the stars. Despots and dictators,
criminals and corporations, who wanted the professor to work for them, give
them control over the Lanes. One or more of these groups tried at various times
to buy him. They offered him fabulous amounts of money. He accepted only public
funding. He allowed no one government or person or corporation to control the
Lanes. The Lanes were free for anyone to-enter; they were dedicated to the
service of mankind and, later, to other races living in the galaxy.

“When it was clear
that the professor couldn’t be bought, someone tried to kill him.

“It was only by a
stroke of luck that the professor escaped his assassin. He fled Earth, sought
refuge on an unknown planet. His enemies couldn’t find him, but they could find
the robots. They tried to capture the robots, in order to study them, emulate
them. The robots were programmed to destroy themselves if capture appeared
imminent. Many of them did so, which is why they are so rare and valuable.

“When the
professor died—of natural causes, I’m happy to say—his family, acting on his
orders, retrieved those robots that were left and destroyed them. The family
trashed all his notes and files, making it impossible for anyone to duplicate
his research.”

“What about that
rumor that one of his children stole some of the equipment and sold it?” Quong
asked.

“That was never
verified,” Tess answered. “I tend to doubt it. The equipment would have been
useless to anyone who didn’t have the background information on how to operate
it. Why waste your money?”

Quong nodded in
understanding.

“1 would have,”
Harry said in a low voice. “Just to have something that was once touched by
Professor Lasairion.”

Tess smiled. “Yes,
me, too. You can imagine our excitement when this ancient spaceplane actually
proved to be one of those used by the professor in his work. A Pandoran NI
operative was able to verify the fact that a robot was inside the wreckage and
that the robot was intact and, apparently, in working condition.”

Dr. Quong’s
expression altered. No much. Probably no one else noticed. But Xris had been
watching Quong closely, to see his reaction to Tess’s words. Something was
eating the Doc now, to judge by the narrowing eyes, the deepening frown line
between the brows. Xris made a mental note to talk to Quong somewhere in
private.

“We immediately
went to work, through diplomatic channels, to recover the robot,” Tess was
continuing. “The Pandoran government was a pain. We thought that they were just
being reactionary. They’re always difficult to deal with. They have an
overinflated view of their own importance. They’re convinced that there is some
giant conspiracy at work in the galaxy. That the king and his ministers do
nothing all day long but plot to seize Pandor. If it wasn’t for its strategic
location near the Void and the Corasians—”

Xris interrupted, “Save
it for
your
thesis, Captain.”

Tess glanced at
him, looked away. “Sorry. I get a bit carried away,” she said coolly. “Suffice
it to say the Pandoran government used every legal manuever in the book to keep
us from taking the robot.”

“Maybe they weren’t
being difficult just to be difficult,” Xris suggested. “Maybe they were being
paid to be difficult.”

“By Nick Harsch,
you mean. Yes.” Tess nodded gravely. “Yes, that’s what we now believe. We
thought we kept the lid on—”

“He did his
homework,” Tcyho said. “Like friend Harry here.”

“He did his
homework, all right. Sakuta—I mean Harsch—told me he had an informant on
Pandor,” Xris said. “He provided me with detailed information on the ‘bot.
Either he’s got someone on his payroll or he came to take a look at it himself.”

“However he found
out about it, he found out. And we found out that he found out.” Tess spread
her hands. “Don’t you see? This was our chance. We’ve been trying for a long
time to catch Nick Harsch. We know he has sold information, weapons, and
technology to the Corasians.

“The Corasians
have used his information to launch attacks on the outer systems. Harsch has
been responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands. I think you all know
how horribly those people died, too,” Tess added somberly.

“I saw Chico die,”
Harry said. “They ate him. Started from the feet up. He—”

Xris interrupted,
not liking to think about Chico. Xris had been the one forced to put his friend
out of his misery. “So you figured that when Harsch showed up to steal the ‘bot,
you’d nab him. That’s why NI posted you here.”

“A little more
complicated than that, but something like that, yes. To be honest, I figured
one of you”— Tess’s gaze went from Jamil to Xris—”for Harsch.”

“You don’t know
what he looks like?”

Tess shook her
head. “We know very little about him at all. He’s good, really good. That’s why
we decided to use the robot as bait. We figured that this was so important, he’d
come himself. We were wrong. Your photos were picked up on security cams when
you landed, sent to the Admiralty. They spotted you immediately. I believe the
Lord Admiral’s response was, ‘Oh, shit! Aren’t we in enough trouble?’ “

“Nice to know we’re
appreciated,” Xris growled.

“At that point,”
Tess continued, “it was either have you both arrested and locked up or use you
to get to Harsch.”

“You pick up Jamil
and haul him off on some phony court-martial scam—”

“—to meet with
Dixter,” Jamil said. “That’s where I’ve been for the last twelve hours.”

Xris cast his
friend an interrogative glance.

Jamil nodded. “Yeah,
she’s telling it straight. At least, she’s telling it the same as the Lord
Admiral’s adjutant told me. We deliver the robot as planned—with one exception.
This.” Jamil reached into the metal briefcase, brought forth a small object
that looked rather like an ordinary writing pen, except that it had magnetic
grapples at both ends. He held it up. “Tracking device. We insert this in the
robot’s innards. The device leads the NI to Harsch.”

“Our orders are—”

“Deliver the robot
and collect our payment. That’s it. The tracking device”—Jamil slid it back
into the case— “does the rest.”

Xris snorted. “Who’s
the bright person thought this one up? What happens if Harsch decides to run a
scan on the ‘bot? He finds out it’s wired. The man is understandably upset and,
to even things out, he blows our heads off! Has NI considered this little
possibility? Or don’t they give a damn?”

Tess was
attempting to be patient. “It would take a very sophisticated scanner to detect
the tracking device. And I doubt if he’s going to have such fancy equipment
with him. Where are you supposed to rendezvous?”

Xris muttered
something.

Tess leaned
forward. “What was that?”

“Hell’s Outpost on
the frontier. Near the Void.”

“Near the
Corasians,” Tess said, exasperated. “And didn’t you think this was a strange
place for a rendezvous with a professor?”

“I was the one who
suggested it,” Xris snapped. “How the hell was I supposed to know any
different?” He shook his head. “I’m still not keen on this. What happens if we
refuse?”

“Go to jail,”
Jamil said. He flicked a glance at Tess, looked back at Xris. “Go directly to
jail. After we stand trial, of course. For the abduction of Major Darlene
Mohini.”

Raoul lifted his
head, stared. The Little One shivered all over. Harry’s forehead creased in
puzzlement.

“But Darlene isn’t—”

“Ahem!” Xris
coughed loudly, interrupted.

“Uh? Oh.” Harry
blinked. “I ‘get it.” And he scratched his head.

“Quite the nice
little setup,” Xris said quietly. “What did you tell the Admiralty?”

“To go play with
themselves.” Jamil was blunt. “No offense, ma’am,” he added, his brow dark, “but
I don’t like threats. I told them we’d take the job, but we do it for our own
reasons, on our own terms.
Not
because we’re being blackmailed.”

“Good man.” Xris
smiled, took out a twist. He glanced at Tess. “What happens if that fancy
gadget of yours doesn’t work? Suppose you lose track of the ‘bot or Harsch or
both?”

“Oh, did I forget
to mention?” Jamil was grim. “The tracking device is also a remote-controlled
bomb.” He patted the briefcase. “Touch a button in here and
boom.”

“We don’t want to
destroy the robot, of course,” Tess said. “We’ll do everything possible to keep
it intact.”

“And us along with
it, I hope,” Xris said dryly.

Tess nodded
absently. “But we’re prepared to destroy it, rather than allow the robot to
fall into enemy hands.”

In Xris’s view, a
lot of things weren’t adding up. He tried an experimental question, waited to
see the reaction.

“Seems to me that
the Navy’s making a hell of a sacrifice just to take out one Corasian agent.
If
this robot’s all you say it is.”

Xris wasn’t
watching Tess. He had his eyes on Quong.

The Doc lifted his
hand and rubbed the side of his nose.

I was right, Xris
thought. Something smells. And it isn’t Raoul’s perfume.

Quong suddenly
began to cough. He coughed until he was red in the face. Harry reached around,
gave him a sound slap on the back.

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