Robot Blues (40 page)

“I go back to
work. I’m ready to lay another Lane. I send out the signal, expecting to hear
the professor’s reassuring voice—and I don’t. Something’s wrong. The professor
doesn’t like what I’ve done. I act to correct the situation. I take out the
Lanes ... in the order in which I’ve laid them! Of course! The next one I take
out will be the one I laid prior to the one I just took out. Now ... how can I
possibly figure out which one that will be?”

She went back
through all the information she had received on the robot, endeavoring to find
some sort of pattern—not easy, since the robot had only removed one Lane.
Darlene had to assume that the robot would take out Lanes systematically; that
it wouldn’t, for example, suddenly jump from one sector to another without
reason. If it did that, she was finished before she began. So far, the robot
had behaved quite logically. There was no reason to think it would deviate.

But still, there were
myriad Lanes in this sector. Darlene fed the information into the computer,
started it working. She began work on her own calculations as well, hoping to
be able to make an intuitive leap which would arrive at the answer in less time
than the computer would take sifting methodically through all the alternatives.
Leap taken, she could use the computer to check her conclusion.

In the meantime,
she would contact the Navy, have them advise each ship in this part of space
that no ship was, on any account—

A voice came over
the commlink. “This is your captain speaking. We will be making the Jump in
approximately one hour and thirty minutes. Naval regulations require that all
passengers return to your cabins at this time. Please ...”

“Oh, hell!”
Darlene stood up, walked to the door, stopped, turned around, walked back, sat
down again. “Hell and damnation!”

She’d done it
again. Such absentmindedness was a common failing of hers, as Xris would no
doubt remind her, if and when he ever heard about this. If she lived to tell
him. She had become so absorbed in the intellectual complexities of this
problem that she had completely forgotten how said problem might impact on her.
Her and about two thousand other people on board this ship.

And what the hell
was the Navy doing?

She called up
RFComSec, demanded that the computer patch her through to the Lord Admiral’s
flagship, the
King James II,
asked to speak to someone in command.

“General Hanson
here.”

“General, this is
Major Mohini.”

“I must inform
you, Major, that you are AWOL and—”

“Yes, yes!”
Darlene snapped. “We’ll discuss that later, ma’am. For now, I’ve been assigned
to track down that runaway robot.”

“I know.” The
general frowned. “I advised against bringing you in on this, but I was
overruled. The Lord Admiral wanted to speak to you himself, but he’s unable to
get away. What have you found?”

“I’m feeding you
coordinates, ma’am. The robot is in the Yanni Two sector of space. I haven’t
completed all the calculations yet, but I’m certain that the robot is going to
stay in this sector. If it takes out another Lane—which I believe it will—the
Lane will be in this sector.”

The general
nodded. “Our experts have reached the same conclusion, Major. Thank you. Now—”

“They have, ma’am?”
Darlene slammed her hands on the table. “Begging the general’s pardon, but what
the hell are you doing about it? I’m on board a cruise ship in this sector.
General. They’ve just announced that we’re going to be making the Jump in
little over an hour! Why hasn’t the captain been informed of the danger? You
need to warn every ship in this sector that on no account should they enter a
space Lane.”

“We have done
that, Major.” The general’s voice was cold. “All military ships and spaceplanes
have been advised to refrain from using the Lanes until they receive word that
it is once more safe. All private ships, freighters, planes, transports have
received the same advisory.”

“Advisory! You
advised
them not to use the Lanes! Excuse me, General, ma’am, but you
apparently don’t realize the extreme danger.”

The General was
calm. “Major Mohini, do you have any idea of the thousands of vessels of every
sort currently plying the Lanes in that sector of space? Privately owned
vessels are
not
under our command. The Admiralty can issue advisories.
The Admiralty can make recommendations. If the captains of these vessels choose
to ignore these advisories and recommendations, that is their prerogative. This
is a free society. What would you have us do—send out gunboats and threaten to
shoot down every ship that doesn’t comply?”

“Did you tell
people the reason, General? Surely if everyone understood the danger—”

The general’s jaw
tightened, one corner of her mouth twitched. “What are we to tell them. Major?
That an antique robot, two thousand years old, is going around taking out
hyperspace Lanes? How many of them do you think would believe us?”

“Oh,
now
I
understand,” Darlene said bitterly. “How stupid of me. The robot’s classified.”

“And it remains
classified, Major. Remember that. I suggest that you return to your work and
help us catch this robot
before
it takes out another Lane. Contact us if
you have anything further to report.”

The transmission
ended.

“Bitch,” said
Darlene.

Well, it was not
up to her. Somehow she’d have to convince the captain of this ship that he shouldn’t
make the Jump. She had to think of a plausible reason.

Much as she hated
to admit it, old Iron Guts was right. What captain in his right mind would
deliberately disrupt the vacation plans of two thousand passengers? He would
incur not only the wrath of the passengers but that of the cruise line, which
would be forced to refund millions of credits for ruined vacations. And she
couldn’t be certain that this Lane was the Lane the robot was going to take out
next.

Yet, if the ship
jumped into a Lane and the robot
did
take that Lane out ...

Darlene shivered.
There had been hyperspace accidents before. No one ever survived. She
remembered reading about a ship once that had been pulled in two. Half of it
came out of one end of the Lane, half came out of the other. And with each
half, the bodies of the dead ...

She started for
the door again, recalling, as she opened it, that there was always the
possibility the assassin was out there waiting for her.

Darlene smiled
grimly. That would be the easy way to go.

Picking up a nail
file—a gift from Raoul—Darlene walked out the automatic sliding door. Before
she left, she slid the nail file under the door. If the door was opened in her
absence, the nail file would move along with it. An old trick, but it worked.
She performed it routinely, automatically, didn’t even give it much thought.

As she walked down
the corridor, she noted—because once, years ago, she’d been trained to note
such things— that the door to the stateroom six down from hers was slightly
ajar. Inside a middle-aged man with graying hair was seated in front of his own
vidphone, talking to a little boy of about seven, whose grinning freckled face
filled the screen.

Darlene looked at
the little boy, at the man. If she couldn’t find a way to stop the captain from
making the Jump, this child might never see his father again.

Resolve hardening,
Darlene increased her pace, hurried to the bridge.

It’s all in a day’s
work.

Anonymous

The gray-haired
man in the room six down from Darlene told the little boy on the screen, “Wait
just a minute, will you, son?” He stood up and walked to the door. He watched
Darlene stop in front of the lift.

She tapped her
foot nervously and irritably on the deck, hit the lift button several times in
an effort to hurry it along. When the lift finally arrived, she darted into it.
The doors shut.

The man waited a
moment longer, just to make certain she hadn’t forgotten something or decided
for some other reason to come back.

Leaving his door
ajar, he walked back to the vid-phone. “Uh, I gotta go now, Jason. Sorry I can’t
be there for your big game, but you know how it is. Daddy’s work.”

“Sure, Dad, I
understand,” came the cheerful response from a freckle-smattered face. “My new
glove’ll bring me luck. Thanks a lot, Dad. This was the best birthday present
ever.”

The man smiled. “You
play your best, okay, and remember: Winning’s not everything. It’s the game
that counts. Give your mom my love when she gets home. Tell her I’ll call her
tonight.”

The boy’s picture
flashed off the screen. The man spent a moment looking at it fondly. Then he
picked up a small metal case, tucked it in his pocket, and walked out into the
corridor.

He had to wait a
few minutes while a couple, clad in wet swimsuits, who had obviously been
drinking more than pool water, went giggling and tottering down the hall to
their room. The man lounged near an
emergency evacuation procedure
sign, pretending to be reading it
carefully. When the corridor was clear, he proceeded to Darlene’s room.

He had to figure
he didn’t have much time. He didn’t know why she’d left, she might be back any
second.

He didn’t need
much time.

The door lock was
simple. He took out the electronic pass key, which he had purchased for a hefty
price from one of the housekeeping staff. He hoped that the key would work. You
could never trust Adonians.

The pass key was
genuine; the door slid open.

Once inside, he
went immediately to the window. Made of steelglass, the window measured about
one meter vertically, a half meter horizontally. The advertising brochure
stated that the windows in each individual cabin “provided the dazzled traveler
with an unparalleled view of the magnificence of space.”

The man pulled out
his case, took from it a tiny metal device that he could have balanced on the
tip of his index finger. The device consisted of two small plates. Inside was a
minuscule power cell. Holding the device between his two forefingers, he
countertwisted the plates. Feeling the slight vibration in his finger, he knew
that the device was activated. He placed the device onto the lower left corner
of the window.

This done, he left
Darlene’s room, returned to his own room, but did not enter. He continued on
past his room, walked through the blast doors and into another corridor, kept
on going.

He wanted at least
one set of blast doors—preferably two—between him and Darlene Rowan.

And then the
Windows failed—and then I could not see to see.

Emily Dickinson, “I heard a Fly buzz—when I died”

As it turned out,
Darlene never spoke to the captain.

It was now about
one hour to Jump. All passengers were being herded back to their cabins, where
they were ordered to lie down in their beds and strap themselves in. Those who
felt the need could take “Jump sedation”—a mild sedative. Specially built
sensor devices in the beds indicated which passengers were obeying orders and
which were not. Crew members were going from cabin to cabin checking to make
certain that everyone was tucked in, strapped down, and comfortable.

They found Darlene
striding purposefully through the corridors on the upper levels of the ship,
heading for the bridge.

She was accosted
by two stewards—a man and woman.

“Excuse me, ma’am,
but the Jump sequence is scheduled to begin in forty-five minutes. Regulations
state that you must be in your cabin, lying in your bed, with your webbing
strapped securely—”

“I must speak to
the captain,” Darlene said, trying to keep her voice calm, level. “It’s urgent.”

“I’m sorry, Ms.—?”

“Rowan. Darlene
Rowan.”

“I’m sorry, Ms.
Rowan.” The female steward smiled. “But that is quite impossible. No one is
allowed on the bridge prior to making the Jump. Regulations.”

“Hang regulations!”
Darlene snapped. “I have to speak to the captain. He’s got to stop the Jump.
You must believe me. I have information—”

“Oh, for the love
of Elvis,” muttered the steward, rolling his eyes. “Another one.”

The female steward
gave the company speech. “Ms. Rowan, I can assure you that our captain and the
bridge crew have the combined experience of over four hundred years of flying
these ships. We’ve made the Jump at least fifty times in this vessel alone and
everything’s gone smoothly. I understand that you’re feeling apprehensive.”

“Damn right I’m apprehensive!”
Darlene dodged out of the female’s grasp. “Look, your captain has received a
warning from the Royal Navy advising him that making the Jump in this sector
could be dangerous.”

“And how do you
know this, Ms. Rowan?” the steward asked politely.

“1 can’t tell you.”
Darlene pleaded. “I know this sounds crazy. I know
I
sound crazy. But I’m
not. I’m telling the truth. If this ship makes the Jump, your captain is
putting at risk thousands of lives!”

“Thank you, Ms.
Rowan. We’ll let the captain know. Now we’ll just escort you back to your
cabin....”

Accustomed to
dealing with hysterical passengers, the stewards look hold of her arms, one on
each side, and gently steered her back down the corridor toward the lift.

Darlene had the
skill and the training to leave these two lying on the deck in huddled,
whimpering heaps. Physically assaulting two members of the ship’s crew wasn’t
likely to advance her cause, however. If anything, it would merely reinforce
the idea that she was deranged. She decided to go back to her cabin. By now the
computer would have completed its calculations. If she gave the Navy something
solid, they’d have no choice but to send out the gunboats.