War with the Robots

"We’re dispensable now," he said, relaxing. "So the best thing we can do is to drop down and see what we can stir up." Arnild grunted agreement, his index fingers unconciously pressing invisible triggers. They leaned over the graphs and photographs spread out on the table. Dall peered between their shoulders and flipped through the photographs they tossed aside. He was first to speak.

"Nothing much there, really. Plenty of water, a big island continent — and not much else."

"Nothing else is detectable," Stane added, ticking off the graphs one by one. "No detectable radiation, no large masses of metal either above or below ground, no stored energy. No reason for us to be here."

"But we are," Arnild growled testily. "So let’s touch down and find out more first hand. Here’s a good spot," he tapped a photograph, then pushed it into the enlarger. "Could be a primitive hut city, people walking around, smoke."

"Those could be sheep in the fields," Dall broke in eagerly. "And boats pulled up on the shore. We’ll find out something there."

"I’m sure we will," Commander Stane said. "Strap in for landing."

Lightly and soundlessly the ship fell out of the sky, curving in a gentle arc that terminated at the edge of a grove of tall trees, on a hill above the city. The motors whined to a stop and the ship was silent.

"Report positive on the atmosphere," Dall said, checking off the analyzer dials.

"Stay at the guns, Arnild," Commander Stane said. "Keep us covered, but don’t shoot unless I tell you to."

"Or unless you’re dead," Arnild said with complete lack of emotion.

"Or unless I’m dead," Stane answered him, in the same toneless voice. "In which case you will assume command."

He and Dall buckled on planet kits, cycled through the lock and sealed it behind them. The air was soft and pleasantly warm, filled with the freshness of growing plants.

"Really smells good after that canned stuff," Dall said. "You have a great capacity for stating the obvious." Arnild’s voice rasped even more than usual when heard through the bone conductor phones. "Can you see what’s going on in the village?"

Dall fumbled his binoculars out. Commander Stane had been using his since they left the ship. "Nothing moving," Stane said. "Send an Eye down there."

The Eye whooshed away from the ship and they could follow its slow swing through the village below. There were about a hundred huts, simple pole-and-thatch affairs, and the Eye carefully investigated every one.

"No one there," Arnild said, as he watched the monitor screen. "The animals are gone too, the ones from the aerial pic."

"The people can’t have vanished," Dall said. "There are empty fields in every direction, completely without cover. And I can see smoke from their fires."

"The smoke’s there, the people aren’t," Arnild said testily. "Walk down and look for yourself."

The Eye lifted up from the village and drifted back towards the ship. It swung around the trees and came to a sudden stop in mid-air.

"Hold it!" Arnild’s voice snapped in their ears. "The huts are empty. But there’s someone m the tree you’re standing next to. About ten metres over your heads!"

Both men controlled a natural reaction to look up. They moved out a bit, where they would be safe from anything dropped from above.

"Far enough," Arnild said. "I’m shifting the Eye for a better look." They could hear the faint drone of the Eye’s motors as it changed position.

"It’s a girl. Wearing some kind of fur outfit. No weapons that I can see, but some kind of a pouch hanging from her waist. She’s just clutching onto the tree with her eyes closed. Looks like she’s afraid of falling."

The men on the ground could see her dimly now, a huddled shape against the straight trunk.

"Don’t bring the Eye any closer," Commander Stane said.

"But turn the speaker on. Hook my phone into the circuit."

"You’re plugged in."

"We are friends… Come down… We will not hurt you." The words boomed down from the floating speaker above their heads.

"She heard it, but maybe she can’t understand Esperanto," Arnild said. "She just hugged the tree harder while you were talking."

Commander Stane had had a good command of Slaver during the war, he groped in his memory for the words, doing a quick translation. He repeated the same phrase, only this time in the tongue of their defeated enemies.

"That did something, Commander," Arnild reported. "She jumped so hard she almost fell off. Then scooted up a couple of branches higher before she grabbed on again."

"Let me get her down, sir," Dall asked. "I’ll take some rope and climb up after her. It’s the only way. Like getting a cat out of a tree."

Stane pushed the thought around. "It looks like the best answer," he finally said. "Get the light-weight 200-metre line and the climbing irons out of the ship. Don’t take too long, it’ll be getting dark soon."