Destination: Void

CHAPTER 27

"You, my creator, would tear me to pieces and triumph; remember that, and tell me why I should pity man more than he pities me? You would not call it murder if you could... destroy my frame, the work of your own hands."

WHILE TIMBERLAKE WORKED his way out through the access tubes toward Flattery, Bickel sca

As much to quiet his own fears as to help Flattery, he began to talk:

"Raj, have you done anything at all to pose a real threat to the computer system?"

"Quite the contrary. I've attempted to... work out the emotional program..."

"To make it care for us?"

"Yes. But I didn't insert any form of program."

Prudence intruded: "I think anything you do on this ship goes into the computer system."

"I agree." That was Bickel. "Specifically, what did you do?"

"Tried to show... it that I really care about it."

"That may be all that's keeping you alive right now," Bickel said.

Once more, Bickel sca

Flattery's thoughts kept revolving around that order from Moonbase: Arbitrary turn-back command.

It had injected ice water into his veins.

"Kill ship!"

"Kill ship!"

It was a refrain chanted in his awareness.

A deep hypnotic command, he thought.

But he could not find it in himself to disobey. The rational arguments for this safety fuse were too compelling. The fate of all humankind was more important than the fate of one man... or of one ship.

Flattery felt his body knotted by frustration. Here he was out beyond the shields of the core. He had been conditioned to accept this order and execute it, sacrificing himself for the protection of the race. At this point, he couldn't muddy his mind with fanaticism. He knew the dangers to the human race from a runaway mechanical consciousness that nobody could...

A yell escaped him as something grabbed his leg.

"It's me, Raj."

Timberlake's voice. It filled Flattery's helmet phones, but he took a moment to accept the identification emotionally. His heart was still hammering as Timberlake pulled him past the next ring of sensors.

The nemesis robox increased its speed, maintained a distance of about three meters.

"Shall I burn it?" Timberlake whispered.

"Do nothing hostile," Flattery said.

The edge of the hub chamber entered Flattery's field of vision. Timberlake's hand released his ankle. Flattery felt the grating hump as the hatch to the i

"In we go," Timberlake said. He gave Flattery a gentle tug as they drifted down into the hub chamber.

A lock stanchion came in front of Flattery and he grabbed it, feeling the inertial pull as he checked his motion. That following robox had stopped at the tube exit above them, but its sensor tip, remained pointed at them. Timberlake moved in front of him, cutting off the view of the robox. Flattery backed down through the lock's baffle angle, Timberlake following. The hatch was closed. Timberlake dogged it, turned.

Flattery crossed to the other hatch, breathing easier now that they were behind the shields and with a hatch between them and that robox. He grabbed the hatch dogs, twisted.

They remained firmly locked.

He applied more pressure.

The dogs wouldn't budge.

"Come on, let's go," Timberlake said. He added his hands to the effort.

The dogs remained seated as though frozen.

Flattery and Timberlake looked at each other, their faceplates almost touching. Flattery's hands felt slippery with perspiration inside his gloves. He could smell the stink of fear within his suit.

"Go... try the other hatch," Flattery said.

Timberlake nodded, kicked back up to the baffle and the hatch they had just dogged. Flattery could see Timberlake's muscles lift the shoulders of the suit with the effort of trying to reopen the other hatch.

It was obvious the other hatch also was blocked.

Timberlake dropped back down beside him, thumbed the command circuit switch beneath his helmet. "John."

"John's temporarily off the circuit," Prudence said. "You're out of danger... immediate danger, aren't you?"

In short, clipped sentences, Timberlake reported their situation.

"Trapped?" she asked. "How could you be?"

"Something's jammed the hatches," Flattery said. "Why's John off the circuit?"

"Oh..." Pause. "He left his helmet... down there. He just yanked it off, unplugged, grabbed up a bunch of equipment and headed for quarters."

"Your sensors! Where do they show him?" Flattery demanded.

Silence. Then: "In your quarters, Raj. I don't understand."

"What's this equipment he took?" Timberlake asked.

"A whole pile of stuff," she said, "mostly from that bin where you were working, Tim, under the middle of the bench."

In my quarters, Flattery thought. Our "organ of analysis" didn't miss a thing!

"Tim, your torch," Flattery said. He pointed to the cutting torch on its tool clip at Timberlake's waist.

Timberlake shook his head. "A minute ago you were saying do nothing hostile."

"Give me that torch!"

"No, sir, Raj. You know what's out there jamming that hatch as well as I do. Another robox unit or two or four or fifty. You had the right idea the first time. Let Bickel -"

"Don't you know what Bickel's doing?" Flattery demanded, not trying to keep the desperation from his voice.

"Just as well as you do, Raj. I assembled most of that gear in the center bin according to his schematics. It's a field-effect generator synchronized to a shot-effect generator. There's an electroencephalographic feedback unit... a man-amplifier, he calls it."

"White box - black box," Flattery said. "We've got to stop him."

"Why?"

"He'll wreck the computer."

"Not that computer."

Bickel has infected him with his cynicism, Flattery thought. "Then he'll kill himself."

"That's his lookout, but I don't think he will."

"When that shot-effect hits him, his muscles will break every bone in his body! That's a hideous way to die."

"Maybe if he were co

"Do you know what's in my quarters?" Flattery asked.

"A snooping device of some kind," Timberlake said. "I've seen the clues on the meters."

"A field sorter," Flattery said. "It's tuned to the computer, gated for output. If Bickel takes out those gate circuits..."

"And he will. Now sit down and be quiet. It's our only chance."

Flattery glared at him. "If Bickel turns that mechanical monster loose it could wipe out the Earth!"

"Why don't you try ghost stories for a change?" Timberlake asked.

"I don't have time to tell you the whole story. That monster has to be stopped. You've got to take my word for it."

"You're nuts," Timberlake said, but Flattery could see that the idea had touched the life-systems engineer's deepest inhibitions.

"You're an engineer," Flattery said. "You're a structuralist. You know Bickel's reasoning?"

"What're you driving at?"

"He's arguing from the internal evidence of the human body," Flattery said, speaking with desperate quickness. "Structure's vital to the mechanical origins - teeth, jaw muscles, digestive system, and so on. The evidence says humans are descended from carnivores - and he insists a killer instinct is an absolute necessity for a carnivore."