Part 16 (2/2)
”To attempt childish deceptions will do you no good. At my approach, at least three s.h.i.+ps fled from their positions on or near this wanderworld.”
So both yachts, plus theSecret Weapon , might have got safely away. That was good to hear-if the machine was telling him the truth. And why should it bother to lie? Harry wondered if the berserker had identified any of the swiftly departing vessels, but he didn't ask.
He turned his head slowly, surveying the ruin around him. Dully he wondered again if any of the people not directly involved in the rehearsal had managed to get aboard theSecret Weapon before it flew away.
It seemed to him that the Lady Masaharu would almost certainly have been on it. Winston Cheng and Satranji would have been aboard Cheng's favorite yacht. He had no real reason to believe that anybody else had escaped the slaughter.
Harry said to the berserker: ”There are no s.h.i.+ps here now, and all of us badlife are too dead to attack anything . . . do you and I have to talk about what we were planning?”
”We do not. It has become irrelevant. But you are not dead, Harry Silver.”
”I was afraid you'd noticed that . . . so go on.”
The a.s.sa.s.sin went on.
At the time of its accidental encounter with the rogue, the a.s.sa.s.sin's s.p.a.cegoing transporter had been running somewhat short of hydrogen fuel, and of course it was always trying to gather information relevant to its purpose. Not yet aware that the rogue had been condemned in absentia and was being hunted to destruction, the a.s.sa.s.sin had made close contact with its colleague to refuel, and to carry out a routine exchange of knowledge.
As was routine in casual exchanges of information between death machines, each had kept certain items secret from its unliving colleague, who had no need to know.
SIXTEEN.
Harry was still listening intently. But though he was reasonably warm now and his mind actually felt a little clearer, he was having trouble grasping the relevance of the a.s.sa.s.sin's story. Maybe, he thought, he had missed some vital point.
When the not-quite-human voice paused again in its recitation, he stepped in with a comment. ”All very interesting. But a while back you told me that you want my help.”
”That is so.”
”Are we coming to some kind of a connection, between that fact and this tale of a rogue machine-the peculiar berserker that definitely isn't you?”
”We are indeed.”
Harry grunted. His legs were feeling better, and he was sure that he would be able to get up on his feet if he made the effort. But what would he do after that?
The a.s.sa.s.sin had fallen silent and seemed to be looking over Harry's shoulder. He turned to see that Dorijen had come back with a kitchen cup that he could hope was filled with water, holding the heavy cup precariously in her remaining two fingers and thumb. The thirst he had been struggling to deal with rose up fiercely, and he grabbed the cup from the robot and gulped its water, liquid life.
Meanwhile Dorry stood back, watching with her remaining clouded eye, offering no comment. Harry tossed the cup aside.
The berserker, ignoring Dorijen's presence, said to him: ”You are of special value to me, Harry Silver, as you know. What you have not known until now is that you are also special to the rogue.”
There was a silence. Then Harry choked out the words: ”It wants me because it already has my family?
The idea is that it finds family connections interesting, because it has some-some question about human genetics, or social relations.h.i.+ps-”
”I have told you everything I know about your family. The rogue did not mention them. Instead it gave a different reason for being keen to study you. It is because you have been for many years so successful in resisting death.”
Yes, of course, his name had been on that d.a.m.ned list. The proof was sitting right in front of him. Harry Silver got the idea. The same people that berserker command wanted most to kill represented the very type of specimens that the rogue most desired to have for its calculated plan of research.
Reading, among many other things, the smaller machine's ”wanted poster” describing Harry, the rogue told the a.s.sa.s.sin it was unable to pa.s.s on any helpful information regarding Harry's whereabouts-if it had really possessed any such information, it had chosen not to divulge it.
Harry said to the a.s.sa.s.sin: ”How do you know all this?”
”Because during our meeting the rogue openly expressed to me its need for specimens of your type. This expression was so strong as to take the form of an attempt to countermand my own built-in programming:When Harry Silver is found, he must not be killed at once. The evil bioprogramming of this unit must be preserved, and some arrangement must be made for this particular life-unit to come into my possession. An issue of vitally important research is at stake .” The a.s.sa.s.sin paused there.
Harry said: ”I see. Or I think I see. How were you supposed to deliver me, and where?”
”The rogue specified coordinates for a rendezvous between one of its auxiliary units and one of mine-of course it did not trust me with the knowledge of where its secret base would be. Perhaps at that time it had not settled on a location.” The a.s.sa.s.sin had explained that it was not compelled to accept orders from any unit not above it in its own branch of the chain of command. But it had promised to pa.s.s on, to the machines that were, the rogue's suggestion for preserving Harry's life.
”But now you know where its base is.”
”Yes, thanks to your hard work, Harry Silver, and that of your colleagues. I have gleaned the information from the data banks aboard this base. The chosen planetoid occupies a zone of relative stability within the Gravel Pit. It is probable that several thousand standard years will pa.s.s before it is destroyed by natural causes.”
”But we also know that just getting to it will be a job.”
”Indeed.”
The zone of stability was surrounded, enveloped and concealed, practically buried, in a whirling, well-nigh eternal avalanche of other rocks in greater and lesser orbits. A sizable minority still revolved retrograde around the system's central star. Collisions, ricocheting and flying fragments, were a constant hazard in this young system. The rogue did confidently compute that it could defend itself against flying rocks.
”Obviously you intend to go there.”
”I do.”
”But you are not following the rogue's command to turn me over.”
”On the contrary, Harry Silver, I intend to follow it to the letter. But not-how do you say?-not in spirit.”
At the end of their chance encounter the two killing machines had separated, the a.s.sa.s.sin to continue its search for Harry, while the rogue concentrated first on finding a place where it might hide and work in safety, and then on obtaining the specimens needed for its work. From that moment on, there had been two berserkers stalking Harry Silver . . .
When the rogue berserker, escaping from the base where it had been created, undertook its first c-plus jump and entered flights.p.a.ce, the a.s.sa.s.sin continued with its explanation to Harry, it had set its course for the best refuge that the limited information in its data banks could suggest-information that may have been extracted, by one means or another, from the human brain of one of its original experimental subjects.
The voice of the a.s.sa.s.sin had fallen silent. Clearly it was waiting for Harry's response.
Listening, he had let himself slump backward. Now, moving slowly and creakily, he regained his feet.
The thing that sat in front of him made no objection. He could move his arms and legs freely, but he couldn't think of any way of moving them that was going to do him any good.
s.h.i.+vering as the great cold of death came to reclaim possession of the lifeless wanderworld, Harry found himself certain-it was as if he had known it all along-that Becky and Ethan had not been chosen for kidnapping by sheer coincidence. Doc had been right. It could have been that the rogue, demented even for a berserker, brewing schemes in its sanctuary down there in the heart of the Gravel Pit, had sought them out justbecause they were some essential part of Harry Silver . . . but how could the isolated rogue have found out where they were, and where they were going to be?
From somewhere off to Harry's right, just outside of his field of vision, a familiar soft voice ventured: ”May I speak now?”
<script>