The purity plot, p.14
The Purity Plot, page 14
It seemed like ages before their destination became anything more than a mere speck on the horizon. Finally, Jules's sharp eyes could detect a glint there, brighter than the natural color of the rocks around them-the reflection of brilliant sunlight off the polished metal surface of the automated digging station. A moment later Vonnie spotted it too, and her pace quickened in an effort to reach the station before too much more of their air was gone.
Soon they could make out more than just the glint of the metal as the station's shape became clearer. It was a collection of long, spidery legs on either side of a central axis. The multitudinous legs kept the machine stable while digging drills and shovels were constantly working at the ground underneath, loosening the desired material and loading it onto a conveyor-belt that ran the length of the station's axis. The conveyor-belt dumped its material into a large bin at the back end of the station; The bin itself was detachable, and, when full, would empty itself into the drone rocket that carried the ore back to the base for processing. Sticking up from the back of the digging station and shading most of the area was an enormous solar umbrella, its surface completely covered with photocells. The digging station would continue to operate as long as the sun itself kept shining down. When it ran out of ore beneath its present location, the legs would simply move it a few dozen meters away and the process would begin all over again. The series of deep trenches cut into the ground all around the station testified to the length of time it had been working in this area.
It was, of course, the drone rocket in which Jules and Yvonne had the most interest. It took them longer to reach than they thought at first because they had to climb into and out of a series of deep trenches previously dug by the machine. Vonnie was sweating profusely now, and her suit was barely adequate to the task. Already the edges of her faceplate were fogging over again with the moisture from her perspiration.
Finally, they climbed out of the last trench and there before them, fifteen meters away, was the drone rocket. The fatigue suddenly lifted from Yvonne and she walked toward the rocket with renewed vigor.
It was a simple device, lying horizontally behind the digging station, little more than an open tube with rocket engines on the back and a guidance system in the nose. It was about twelve meters long and four in diameter; the cargo hatch stood ajar, waiting for the station's bin to drop in its loads of ore. Being on Yvonne's shoulders already gave Jules an advantage for climbing up onto the rocket and looking down into the hold.
"It's almost empty," he said, not even bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. "We must have just missed a full one taking its load back."
"We can't just sit around here and wait for this one to fill up," Vonnie said. "That could take hours, or even days." What she did not bother to say-they both knew it only too well-was that they only had less than two hours of air left in their tanks.
Jules was not about to give up. Leaning back down from the top of the missile, he helped Yvonne climb up there beside him. "There's got to be some trip gauge," he mused aloud, "some automatic register that tells the rocket when it's full. Then the door will close automatically and the rocket will head back to the base. All we have to do is find that and convince the ship it's got a fell load."
The two agents lowered themselves into the cargo hold and began their exploration of the interior. The logical place to look for the control was near the top, where the ore would be piled when the hold was filled. Jules once again climbed atop his wife's shoulders and they moved slowly around the nearly empty chamber, scanning the walls intently for an indication of anything that might be the control they sought.
After ten minutes their search was successful. Jules located the little mechanism, a simple device that pressed against the forward bulkhead, closing an electrical connection. Under normal conditions, the contact would not be made until the hold was so full of rock that it pushed against the top, but Jules could duplicate that effect by hand. "Here goes," he said, pushing the contact lever.
The result was all they could have hoped for. Above them, the cargo hatch swung ponderously shut, sealing them in total darkness within the missile. Jules climbed down from his wife's shoulders and the two of them braced themselves against the missile's rear wall. A few moments later they felt the walls begin to shake and a sudden pressure pushing them backward. Their rocket was homeward bound.
Chapter 13
Standoff
With the discovery that'Tresa Clunard was not the robot they sought, Pias and Yvette realized that once again they had badly miscalculated in evaluating their enemy. It had seemed so logical that the rapidly moving, female shape they'd seen in the darkness at Clunard's headquarters would be Clunard, that they hadn't stopped to analyze further. Now they would have to think extra fast to make up for their earlier mistake.
Yvette raised her head and looked about, as though just noticing something. "Listen," she whispered.
"I don't hear anything."
"That's the problem. Neither do I. The camp was on the verge of waking up when we came in here, and we've been here quite a while. Reveille should have blown by this time. Something has changed the camp's routine, and I don't like what that implies. Let's get out of here, vitement-and don't hesitate to use blasters."
As it was, their action was barely in time. They came racing out of the administration building to find the structure almost completely surrounded by an advancing squadron of armed guards. The instant the two were spotted, blaster beams began sizzling all around them. They returned the fire with beams of their own, forcing the attackers to break for cover. The Bavols did the same.
They used the layout of the camp itself to their advantage. There was an overgrowth of vegetation throughout the area to help camouflage it; that same underbrush helped hide them as they raced away from the scene of their near-entrapment.
All around them, the general alarm was sounding. Now that there was no longer the chance to take them by surprise, the army's security forces chose to rely on their superior numbers to capture and/ or kill these intruders. Thousands of fighters, primed for action ever since coming to this camp, poured out of their barracks like ants defending their hill. Loudspeakers all over the base blared that a pair of enemy agents had infiltrated the camp and were to be destroyed on sight.
If the Army of the Just had been trained according to standard military discipline, the Bavols would have been doomed. Fortunately for them, this army had been intended to fight as individual berserkers rather than as a coordinated unit. They were filled to overflowing with energy and enthusiasm but had little sense of teamwork. Even without a clear idea of what they were after, they started firing their blasters at random into the forest, burning down anything that moved-and occasionally hitting some of their fellow Puritans as well as starting small fires in the brush around the camp.
Pias and Yvette picked their way carefully through the confusion. Although the conditions for search were less than optimal, the enemy was present in such overwhelming numbers that there was always the fear a random shot might hit true. "If we could make it back to our aircar," Pias gasped as he ran alongside Yvette, "we could send for reinforcements. The Service has its people all ready to jump in and bail us out."
In answer, Yvette merely pointed at the sky. The army had mobilized some of its mechanized units, with several aircars already aloft and scanning the ground below. "They'd see us going over the hill," she said. "And they'll spot our car soon enough, anyhow. We'd never reach it."
Pias stopped for a moment, standing still in the midst of confusion. "So what are we supposed to do then? Run in circles around the bottom of this valley, hoping to tire out ten thousand soldiers by ourselves?"
"At this point, I'm not fussy. I'll listen to any reasonable alternative." Yvette stopped too, brushing her hair out of her face and looking at her husband with an inquisitive expression.
Pias closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. "When in doubt, bluff," he said. "Get out your stunner again and follow me." Opening his eyes once more, he led the way in a new direction through the forest. Wondering what he was up to but too out of breath to ask, Yvette could only follow after him and hope her Gypsy lord had not snapped a gear in his mental processes.
After a moment, his direction became clear. He was moving toward the one area where there was no shooting-and for good reason. The camp's armory was directly in front of them, and a few misplaced blaster beams could conceivably blow the entire valley into a fine powder.
They stopped right at the edge of the brush to give the armory a quick scan before going in. The three guards they had originally seen had been supplemented by two more, all standing out of stun-gun range from where the Bavols were now hiding. The agents would have to expose themselves before they could hope to down their opponents.
"We have an old saying on Newforest," Pias explained breathlessly. "Better to bargain with borrowed goods. We'll be in a better position to negotiate if we hold a power equal to theirs. If they have more people, we'll have more firepower."
This is madness, Yvette thought, but knew that only inspired madness had any chance of saving them now. "You're a fool, and I love you!" She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and raced out into the open, facing the guards. Pias, a little startled by her bravado, was nonetheless just a step behind her.
The guards were understandably nervous that two people should come charging out of the bushes like lunatics, yelling and screaming and firing their weapons indiscriminately, with the armory right there. It took an extra second to recognize that it was only stunners, not blasters, the two were firing, and thus they were posing no immediate threat to the weapons cache behind them. The guards were armed only with stunners, too-there had been no sense in tempting fate with weapons of higher potency in such a dangerous area-and their guns had no greater range than the Bavols'. Both sides had to wait until the gap between them had narrowed before they could expect to hit anything.
The odds were five against two, but those two were far better trained, better prepared, and more highly motivated than their opposition. Their lives were at stake, while to the guards it was merely a job. The SOTS agents moved so quickly that the guards could not get a clear shot at either of them. The Bavols' accuracy, unlike their opponents', was perfect.
The five guards fell to the ground, and the agents rushed inside the rickety building, just as a group of pursuers burst from the bushes behind them. A couple of the soldiers raised their blasters to shoot the fleeing pair, but their squad leader brought them up short. "Are you crazy?" he shouted. "If you miss, the whole valley will blow up."
By that time, Pias and Yvette had made it safely inside the building. They kept their stunners at.the ready, but apparently there were no more guards inside. "We've got them off-balance for the moment," Yvette said, as she gulped in deep lungfuls of air.
"What happens now?"
"Now we get a few moments' respite while they check with whoever's in charge. In the meantime, we have to prepare our bluff. Help me attach a deadman's switch to some of these explosives. We'll have to make them think seriously before attacking our position."
Yvette was the more experienced of the pair at dealing with munitions, so she ended up doing most of the work. Her wounded left shoulder was bothering her again; during the brief chase she had managed to ignore the pain, but it was returning now with a vengeance. She pushed herself to the limit anyway; they had to work quickly before the army could regroup.
The deadman's switch they rigged took the form of a rope over a pulley. Pias held one end, while the other end was weighted. If he were to be shot, his hand would let go of the rope, the weight would fall, and several tons of explosives would be ignited within this confined area. "Now we'll see how good they are at gambling," Pias remarked. "The odds are just about even."
"But what can we gain?"
"Time, if nothing else. We'd be dead by now if we hadn't ducked in here. Be thankful for small favors." They had barely finished rigging the switch when a party of soldiers burst into the armory, carrying stunners. They hesitated momentarily when they saw the unusual contraption the intruders had rigged, which gave Pias a chance to speak up. "I'd advise you to point those things in some other direction," he said. "If I'm knocked unconscious and let go of this cord, Purity will have an enormous bomb crater to add to its list of scenic wonders-not that any of us would be around to enjoy it."
The soldiers looked back and forth among themselves, wondering whether this crazy intruder was bluffing, and not daring to take the risk. The man in front, who must have been the leader of the group, finally spoke. "What do you want?"
Pias smiled. For the moment, the game was his. "A broad philosophical question indeed," he said, "but one that indicates more of a cooperative spirit than you previously exhibited. For the beginning, let us say I want a bullhorn so that I may communicate with your high command over a long distance. One of you may go fetch it for me and the rest of you are to leave in as orderly a manner as you can arrange."
The soldiers stood where they were, unsure of exactly what to do. Their orders had been to come up here and deal with the spies; they had probably even been willing to die in the attempt. But they could not take the responsibility for blowing up the entire camp in the process, and they had no way to judge how serious this young man was about his threat.
"I'd suggest," Pias said after a pause, "that you leave at once." He gave the rope a threatening shake, and the soldiers took the hint. They left quickly.
"That worked for now," Yvette said, "but how much longer can we go on bluffing?"
"Long enough-I hope. Just pray my arm doesn't get tired."
"They can outlast us. All we have in here are weapons and explosives, no food. They could try starving us out."
"They'll bring us food if I tell them I'm about to faint from hunger."
Yvette looked at him seriously. "Are you really prepared to go through with the bluff? It may come down to that."
"We have our orders to break up this army somehow. I admit the Head wanted it done a bit more quietly, but if we can't get out of this with our lives, at least we can go knowing we've accomplished our mission. I have no intention of dying without good purpose. You're damn right I'll go through with it." He sighed. "If only we knew who the robot was..."
"It's got to be the assistant, Elspeth FitzHugh," Yvette said. "She's the only other high-ranking female in this organization."
"But we got her with a stunner just a few minutes ago in the administration building, and she went down with the other two. The robot back in God's Will City wasn't even slowed down by a stunner."
"The circumstances were different. It was completely dark back at the city headquarters raid. The robot knew we wouldn't be able to identify it, so it didn't mind betraying itself in an attempt to destroy us. Jules and I fought one in the dark on Ansegria, and it behaved the same way. But as soon as there was a chance it might be discovered, it ran away. It knows that its best weapon is to keep its identity totally secret."
"Then it was faking today when we shot it," Pias continued the reasoning. "I thought it felt too heavy when I dragged it into the other room."
Yvette nodded. "It knew we'd be able to see it, so it pretended to succumb like the others and waited until we had left before sounding the alarm. It could see we were armed with blasters today, and that one of us could probably have destroyed it before it could act. It places survival and secrecy above everything else."
The female agent shook her head now, as though trying to clear it of a mental fog. "If I weren't so damned stupid, I should have seen it was FitzHugh rather than Clunard right away."
"What do you mean? And how dare you call the woman I love stupid?"
Yvette smiled in spite of herself. "There's a pattern to the way these robots are being used. They're never the star of the picture, never the one on whom all attention is focused. That might give them away. Instead, they're someone at the side, someone few people would notice but who will be there when needed. The conspirators didn't try to duplicate the princess on Ansegria, just the man they'd hoped to make her husband. When that didn't work, they had a duplicate of Lady Bloodstar all ready to step in, to be an important member of the wedding party, but not the one in the spotlight. Now in this conspiracy they wouldn't pick Clunard, the star attraction who's standing in front of large crowds every night; instead, they'd go for little, unnoticed Elspeth FitzHugh, who just happens to be the top assistant and who keeps the entire operation running smoothly. The robots are content to be out of the limelight, but having the power nonetheless."
The discussion was interrupted by the return of one of the soldiers with the bullhorn Pias had requested. Pias thanked the man, then told him to leave, with the added stipulation that he tell Sister Elspeth to begin negotiations via bullhorn. The man left quickly; the farther he was from the armory and the suicidal spies, the more comfortable he would feel.
A few minutes later, the voice of Elspeth FitzHugh boomed up the hill at them. "Counselor Hanrahan, you and your wife must surrender immediately," she said. "We have you completely surrounded. There's no way you can escape."
If there had been any doubts at all in the Bavols' minds about the robot's identity, they vanished in that instant. They had given FitzHugh a number four stun; no flesh-and-blood woman would be capable of talking to them now, so soon after that. If Elspeth FitzHugh had been a living person, she would still be unconscious for at least an hour. The fact that she had called Pias by his cover name meant she had to have recognized him; only a robot would have reflexes fast enough to notice his face before he'd stunned her.
