Unicorn Point (24 page)

The sweeper slid its lid back over. It clicked into place, making an airtight seal. Bane was glad that this body did not need to breathe; it did so only for appearances, and for verbal communication.

The sweeper trundled forward, heading for the expedite route. This was a network of tunnels used for the swift trans port of supplies and equipment. The sweeper rolled onto a transport cart, was tied down, and gave its destination.
 
Abruptly the motion was savage. No human limitations of atmosphere or acceleration were considered; machines were tougher. It was like being launched by a swinging club; one moment the cart was stationary, the next it was rolling down the tube at a horrendous velocity. There was a violent jerk as it changed tracks, proceeding at an angle down a new tube, orienting on the spaceport. Bane’s legs raided against his torso. But high velocity was what he wanted!
 
In only ten minutes the sweeper rolled into the spaceport depot. Its lid slid open. Bane got his arms up, put his hands on the rim on either side, and somewhat clumsily hoisted his body up. This was harder to do than letting it down, and getting the first leg attached was harder yet. But he managed to use his torso to nudge his leg into the appropriate place, and to set himself on it so that it took some weight; that freed a hand so that he could complete the connection. The second leg was easy.

He climbed out. Return to assigned depot, he sent to it.

Use alternate route, unrush.

The machine closed its hatch and trundled off. It would probably not be missed, and its excursion might never be noted. Meanwhile, it had gotten him to the vicinity of the spaceport in ample time.

Now he extended his electronic awareness to locate Troubot. Yes, he was on his way in, carrying Agape in dissolved form. He repeated the identification code Nepe had given him. Troubot: provide projected route, he sent.
 
The machine responded with the coding for his route.

If intercepted, notify me.

Troubot, a self-willed machine, understood. He would do his best to protect his cargo.

Now Bane oriented on Tania, whose identity he knew well.
 
She was also on her way in, using her brother’s Citizen transport. She would arrive before Agape, which was as it should be.

Finally he checked for the two androids. They were close; they would arrive before Tania, and be awaiting her at the spaceport. They were orienting on her boarding pass, which was keyed to her identity.

Now it got tricky. If he intercepted the androids before they interviewed Tania, the Citizen expecting the report would realize that something was wrong. Any hint of a problem would cause them to put a hold on the takeoff, and all would be lost.

On the other hand, if they interviewed Tania, they might not finish before Agape had to make the exchange. That, too, would be disaster.

But in a moment he had a way to thread through: Agape and Tania did not actually have to meet; they merely needed to exchange places and identities in a manner that aroused no suspicion. He could get the pass from Tania and give it to Agape; Agape could board while the androids interviewed Tania. True, it might seem that Tania was in two places at once—but no one should be checking for that. It seemed a reasonable risk.

He hurried to intercept Tania as she emerged from the transport. “Give me the pass,” he said. “Androids be waiting for talk with thee.”

She caught on immediately. “Someone is checking on me, because of my sudden departure. That will be routine. But if I don’t have the pass, how will they find me? You don’t want them tracking her.”

Excellent point. “I will come with thee, and mock the pass. They will check it not further after they encounter thee.”

“You have unheralded talents,” she murmured, glancing at him sidelong. “Fortunately, I like your company.” They changed course to intercept Agape’s route, and waited a moment. Probably the androids would not search for Tania beyond the spaceport; they would have been told to find her there, and they were stupid. So they would not see Agape in Tania’s likeness.

Troubot came. Give this pass to Agape, Bane sent to it.
 
Tell her to assume Tania’s likeness, and board as soon as the ship be ready. Once aboard, she may hide as pleases her, until we join her at Planet Moeba. He gave the pass to the machine.

Troubot trundled on without pause. Agape would know how to get from Planet ConGlom to Planet Moeba. There was no chance for more detailed planning.
 
Then he walked with Tania on toward the spaceport, maintaining a circuit that emulated the recognition pattern of the pass, with more force than the original, so that any sensors would tune in on this one instead. “Once they be satisfied that it be thee, I will depart,” he said. “Thou canst reassure them that thy journey be routine.”

“Nuh-uh, metal man,” she said, taking his arm possessively. “I am now without my pass. If they think to check, they will know something’s up, and I’ll be in as much trouble as you. Stay with me, and see that I get out of this.”

“But-“

“The moment they realize that she is gone, and that I had a part in it, zap,” she continued, slicing her free hand across her throat. “And I think that will happen about one minute after that ship takes off. You will be on hand to get me out of it.”

“But I must return to see that Nepe—“

“If, on the other hand, all proceeds smoothly, you will be able to see to the child too. My help comes at a price, and saving my hide is part of it.”

Bane had no alternative but to go along with her. He suspected that she enjoyed asserting her position.
 
They came to the spaceport and approached the privacy booth 401. The two androids appeared, intercepting Tania exactly as directed. Both had the nondescript look of their kind; they were completely humanoid, including genitals, but somewhat slack-faced. “Tania,” one said. “We must ask why you make this trip.”

Tania glanced at the nearest wall clock. Takeoff was in just under half an hour, and boarding would occur in fifteen minutes. She had either to satisfy these androids, or keep them occupied so that they could not check the people actually boarding.

“I do not have to answer to you,” she snapped aloofly. “My excursions are my private business.”

“Citizen Tan sent us,” the android said. “We speak for him.”

“My brother knows my pleasures,” she said. “Now look, gunkheads: I have only about ten minutes before I have to board, and I have latched on to a man for some spot entertainment until then. Just tell my brother I am my usual willful self, and let me be.”

“Entertainment?” the android asked.

“Yes. In here.” She drew Bane in toward the booth. He tried to resist, wanting no part of this ploy, but could not do so openly. Dealing with this woman was like handling quick silver!

“But you haven’t answered,” the android protested. “Why do you make this trip?”

Tania paused. Bane knew she was figuring out the best way to take advantage of this situation, knowing that he could not make any objection. “Well, I got bored with the local men,” she said. “I mean, look at this one: would you make love to him?”

The android turned to look at Mach directly. His dull eyes widened. “This is—“ Bane cut him off with a blow to the throat, utilizing reflexes that no living man, let alone an android, could match. Then he whirled on the other, catching him by the side of the neck and rendering him unconscious by a nerve block. He caught him as he tottered, and hauled him into the booth. Tania meanwhile manhandled the other android to follow. In a moment the four were crammed inside a booth intended for one to primp in comfort. One android was slumped on the toilet, and the other on the table before the wall-sized mirror.
 
“Well, robot, I seem to have misplayed it,” she said, not entirely displeased. “Now we shall have to keep them here, and stay out of sight ourselves, until that ship takes off, so that nobody sees anything suspicious. Whatever shall we do for twenty minutes, handsome?”

“We can leave them here,” he said, bothered. “They will recover not consciousness soon enough to report in time.”

“No. My brother may call in, and they must answer, or there will be mischief. See?” She pried at the closed hand of the android who had done the talking. Sure enough, there was a communication button set into the palm.
 
Bane gritted his teeth, figuratively. It was true; they could not gamble on the call coming in and receiving no answer, before the ship left. They had either to haul the unconscious android along with them, which would surely arouse suspi cion, or wait with him here until the danger passed.
 
“That is what I thought,” she said, reaching up to catch hold of him around the neck. “You know. Bane, I have confined my attentions to Mach, because he is the one with no woman in Proton, but I think now those concerns are blurring. Phaze fascinates me, and if you are going to do it with my other self there anyway—”

“Thou dost push thy luck,” he muttered, not responding physically.

“We are the same, she and I. I feel her emotion—and that emotion is for you rather than Mach. I never quite figured out what was wrong, until you told me of the situation in Phaze. I see now that I was trying for Mach only nominally; it was you I really wanted. Now I am helping you to save your lover, and I believe—”

“Sork,” the android’s hand said. “What report?”

Bane used his ability to activate the return connection. “She says she just wants a change from Proton men, sir,” he said in the android’s voice. “She says it is routine.”

“What else?”

“That it is none of my business, sir.”

There was a dry laugh. “All right, let her talk to me.” Bane held up the android’s limp hand. “He wishes to talk to thee,” he said.

“All right. Tan sir,” she said, grimacing. “And what does my Citizen twin brother require of me now, sir?”

“A straight answer,” Tan’s voice snapped. “Why are you leaving the planet without notifying me?”

“I forgot. Citizen sir,” she said, not bothering to conceal the malice. She resented the fact that he had gotten the Citizenship instead of her. “Now are you going to let me board, sir?”

“I don’t think so. There’s something funny about—“ He paused, evidently making a connection. “Thee? The android wouldn’t have said that!”

Oops! Bane had given himself away!

“You must have misheard,” Tania said. “Bane’s in with the amoeba wench, plumbing her protoplasm with his metal rod.”

“One moment,” Tan snapped. Bane knew he was putting in a priority call to the suite, to see who answered. He also knew that Nepe, in his likeness, would answer and cover for him.

Sure enough, soon Tan spoke again. “He’s there, all right, looking mad about being interrupted. But I distinctly heard a ‘thee.’ Who are you with?’

Tania covered for him again. “All right, if you must know: I managed to talk a man into going with me. I—you know, Phaze, the way I—I’ve got him made up like Bane, and told him to talk like—”

“I doubt it,” Tan said coldly. “More likely you found a way to coerce Bane into coming with you so you could seduce him, and Agape is emulating him at their suite. How the hell you got her to cooperate I can’t guess. I won’t have it; we need him here. Permission to depart the planet is denied; return immediately to the office, and bring him with you. We shall get to the bottom of this.”

Tania glanced at Bane. Her brother had leaped to an apt conclusion, with one key error!

“Damn!” she said. “I hear and obey. Citizen Tan sir! But this matter is not finished.”

“Agreed,” he said, with an inflection that made her wince.
 
They stepped out of the booth. “Methinks we need a distraction,” Bane said. “There be a few minutes yet till the ship launch. An he rethink the ploy—”

“And it is time for me to make my move,” Tania said.
 
“This will quickly unravel. If I know my brother, he will not depend on my sense of sibling duty; he’ll send a competent force to arrest me—and you. Pull out your stops, robot; this is the time.”

“Aye, wench,” he agreed. “Follow!”

They ran to the nearest service exit to the takeoff ramp.
 
Bane used his ability to make the door open for him as it would for a machine servitor. Beyond was a chamber in which the service machines were parked: huge forklifts, dozers and ramp cleaners. Bane went to one of the last: a machine taller than a man, with s scalable cockpit, and nozzles and brushes all around. “Climb in!” he told her, as he made the cockpit dome lift open.

“How?” she asked, halting before the monstrous caterpillar tread of the thing. It offered little purchase for a human being. Normally these machines were remote-controlled; the cockpit was there only in case a man should be assigned.
 

“I’ll boost thee!” He caught her by knee and upper thigh and lifted her up so that she could scramble onto the top of the tread.

“Goose me again, why don’t you,” she muttered as his hand fell away from her thigh. But she made it to the cockpit and climbed in.

Bane followed. He zeroed in on the machine’s control circuitry, and locked off the remote input. Now he alone con trolled it. He studied its mechanisms.

“Get going!” Tania cried, jammed into the tiny cockpit beside him. “They’ll be here any minute!” Bane knew that. But he wanted to be certain of the cleaner’s potential. He had chosen this machine because it most resembled an old-fashioned tank. Properly directed, it could defend itself, and could travel beyond the dome.