Unicorn Point

“I can do you too, with a few minutes to set up.” Already she was starting to change, her features melting.

“Thou dost be a wonder!” he said, stepping toward the portal. “I will return for thee when I can.”

“I’ll be waiting. Daddy,” she said bravely.  He used his intercept circuit to tune in on the spy devices beyond the portal. In a moment he had nulled them without alerting their malfunction alarms. Then he opened the portal and stepped out.

A human serf was passing in the hall. Bane ignored him; it was only the spy device that counted. Later they might round up and question all serfs in the vicinity, and learn that Bane had been seen leaving, but by then it would be far too late.

He had little time. Agape would be meeting Tania about half an hour before the flight, and the androids could be arriving shortly before that, being dispatched from some local depot. The spaceport was a fair distance from this region. A walking pace would require at least an hour, and all he had was perhaps twenty minutes. A Citizen could readily get there in time, by taking private transport, but he was a serf. He had to have transportation—but the fast belts and rail tubes were all monitored, and he wasn’t sure he could remain in visible to them.

But he had an answer. He stepped into a service alcove.  There was a hall-brushing machine, awaiting its call. It had a huge roller brush in front, and a large bin for refuse behind.  Bane addressed it electronically, tapping into its commu nication circuit. He had talked verbally to Troubot, but then he had been walking openly; now he was hidden from electronic observation, and needed to remain so.  Activate, he sent. Stand ready to accept load of refuse.  Take that load via expedite route to spaceport depot and release it.

The sweeper did not question these orders. It hummed into its version of life and opened the lid to its refuse bin. Bane climbed up to stand in the bin. It was too small for him to hide in, being only half his height and too narrow to allow him to squat. He touched his body efficiently, and in a moment removed his right leg. He propped this in the front right comer, and then disconnected his left leg. He put his hands on the rim of the bin, hefted himself up, and let the left leg wobble into the front left comer. Then he lowered his torso down in a maneuver a living body would have found difficult, until it wedged against his standing legs at the bottom of the bin. He squeezed his arms down and into the scant remaining space.

The sweeper slid its lid back over. It clicked into place, making an airtight seal. Bane was glad that this body did not need to breathe; it did so only for appearances, and for verbal communication.

The sweeper trundled forward, heading for the expedite route. This was a network of tunnels used for the swift trans port of supplies and equipment. The sweeper rolled onto a transport cart, was tied down, and gave its destination.  Abruptly the motion was savage. No human limitations of atmosphere or acceleration were considered; machines were tougher. It was like being launched by a swinging club; one moment the cart was stationary, the next it was rolling down the tube at a horrendous velocity. There was a violent jerk as it changed tracks, proceeding at an angle down a new tube, orienting on the spaceport. Bane’s legs raided against his torso. But high velocity was what he wanted!  In only ten minutes the sweeper rolled into the spaceport depot. Its lid slid open. Bane got his arms up, put his hands on the rim on either side, and somewhat clumsily hoisted his body up. This was harder to do than letting it down, and getting the first leg attached was harder yet. But he managed to use his torso to nudge his leg into the appropriate place, and to set himself on it so that it took some weight; that freed a hand so that he could complete the connection. The second leg was easy.

He climbed out. Return to assigned depot, he sent to it.

Use alternate route, unrush.

The machine closed its hatch and trundled off. It would probably not be missed, and its excursion might never be noted. Meanwhile, it had gotten him to the vicinity of the spaceport in ample time.

Now he extended his electronic awareness to locate Troubot. Yes, he was on his way in, carrying Agape in dissolved form. He repeated the identification code Nepe had given him. Troubot: provide projected route, he sent.  The machine responded with the coding for his route.

If intercepted, notify me.

Troubot, a self-willed machine, understood. He would do his best to protect his cargo.

Now Bane oriented on Tania, whose identity he knew well.  She was also on her way in, using her brother’s Citizen transport. She would arrive before Agape, which was as it should be.

Finally he checked for the two androids. They were close; they would arrive before Tania, and be awaiting her at the spaceport. They were orienting on her boarding pass, which was keyed to her identity.