Part 31 (1/2)

It was the lack of these substances that made Mach desperate and dangerous. The machine required them in order to develop its potential to reproduce its kind -- and some of them could be filtered from the bodies of the living spots. There was no inherent personal animus; Mach attacked because it was driven by a need that could not be denied, in much the fas.h.i.+on of Cub's need. Gradually, as it realized that the spots were in fact sentient, it came to equate destruction of them as long-range nonsurvival and tried to resist the urge to take what beckoned. But it could not.

Supply those substances, and Mach would no longer be an enemy. The machine might even cooperate with the other members of the enclave. Its strength on the physical level was such that it could be of substantial a.s.sistance to them -- especially in the effort to break out of the enclave.

OX had developed combat circuits to oppose the inimical behavior of the external patterns. Now he comprehended that patterns were ill equipped to indulge in such activities. Their intellectual comprehension translated only poorly into action. This was one reason the external patterns had done nothing but observe after arranging the enclave.

Machines, in contrast, were ent.i.ties of action. Mach's mind contained pragmatic instructions for accomplis.h.i.+ng many tasks, provided the tools existed. OX now saw that he, as a pattern, had tools that the machine did not. Now OX understood enough, and he had a new sense of motivation. He made ready to act.

Chapter 15.

ALTERNITY.

They stood on a metal highway, and a tank was bearing down on them. It was a monster, with treads as high as a man and a nose needling forward like that of an atmosphere-penetrating rocket.

Veg's dizziness left him. He charged to the side. Tamme was right beside him, guiding his elbow in case he stumbled.

The tank careened on by, not swerving.

”Was that another trap?” Veg asked breathlessly.

”Coincidence, more likely. Do you recognize this alternate?”

He looked about. All around them were ramps and platforms, and on these structures vehicles of every size and shape sped by. Some were quite small, and some were tiny -- the size of mice, or even flies. But all were obviously machines.

”A bit like downtown Earth,” he muttered. ”But not -- ” He paused. ”The machine world! This is where they breed!”

”I doubt they breed,” she said. ”Nevertheless, this is a significant discovery.”

”Significant! Those machines are half the problem! I had to fight one of them halfway across the desert to protect our supplies!”

”Only to fall prey to the sparkle-cloud,” she reminded him.

”Yeah...”

A dog-sized machine headed for them. It had perceptor-antennae extending from the top, and it emitted a shrill beeping.

”We're discovered,” Tamme said. ”I think we'd better move on.”

But it was already too late. The seemingly aimless paths of the machines suddenly became purposeful. From every side they converged.

”I think we'd better not resist,” Tamme said. ”Until we locate the projector, we're at a disadvantage.”

They certainly were! They were now ringed by machines, several of which were truck-sized, and there was a dismaying a.s.sortment of rotating blades, pincers, and drills. But she had already noted a containment pattern to their activity rather than an attack pattern.

A container-machine moved up, and two buzz saws herded them into its cage. The mesh folded closed, and they were prisoners.

”You figure this is the end of the line?” Veg asked. ”I mean, maybe the hexaflexagon goes on, but if the machines catch every visitor...”

”Uncertain,” Tamme said. ”Some may avoid capture, some may escape, some may be freed.”

”How many agents do you figure are traveling around here?”