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already removed the radiationless lump of matter from the radiant mass that
was Cliff Hawk, using the sleeth as its proxy; that had been disappointing,
nothing had happened.
But, it wondered, what if it were to soak up some of that radiation?
It was a notion that attracted the rogue. It did not know why. It had not yet
learned to recognize hunger.
14
First the robot required them to wait while it completed its minute of silent
adoration, bobbing in its transflection field under the star-embossed dome of
the church, its plasma rippling with the colors of devotion. Then it insisted
on shepherding each of the children out of the building, locking the doors
behind them, searching each empty room and corridor to make sure none had been
forgotten. The
358
church was bomeostatic, of course; its receptors and pro-priooeptors could
have taken care of all of that without attention. Then the robot proposed
another delay while it transmitted an apparently endless message to Deneb; and
all the while the boy, Rufe, was chattering with questions and eagerness, and
Andy Quam's patience had long gone up in wrath. "Robot Inspector," he shouted,
"if we're going, let's go! Molly Zaldivar may be in great danger, even dyingl"
The robot swung toward him. "Monitor Quamodian," it sang, "patiencel I assure
you she is alive."
"How do you know?" he demanded.
The robot was silent
"Preacher," the boy whispered, "leave him alone. That's the way he is. Does
things at his own pace. Sayl Are you going to ride his back?"
"AlmalikI How do I know?" groaned Andy Quam. He glanced at his wrist
timepiece, converted rapidly to Terrestrial equivalents, and hissed with
exasperation. "In three hours Starday will be over. I
won't need him then! But," he added painfully, tapping his foot on the tiled
floor, "Molly needs me now."
The robot sang, "Monitor Quamodian, please be silent I am having a most
interesting discussion with three living companions on a planet of Deneb,
eight robots and the star 61 Cygni."
"NoJ" roared Quamodian in astonishment "You're not chattering away at a time
like this! But you promised . . ."
The robot paused. Then, petulantly, "Oh, very well. Perhaps we may as Well go,
since your noise is disturbing me. Please follow..."
But it was too late for following; Andy Quam was already out the door, leaping
toward the place where he had left his flyer, and the boy was trailing after
him like a comet tail.
"I'll lead the way," sang the robot, raising the amplification of its external
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
vocalizers until the church facade echoed. "I have instructed your guiding
apparatus that the hundred-meter limit
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20...2001-03%20-%20The%20Starchild%20
Trilogy.txt (167 of 206) [12/28/2004 10:49:12 PM]
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E-books/LoPL%20full%20...child%20(3
)/Starchild%2001-03%20-%20The%20Starchild%20Trilogy.txt may be waived, as part
of my voluntary Starday activity, permitted under the compact .. ."
Even at ninety decibels Andy Quam didn't hear the end of the sentence; he was
already in the flyer, the boy close behind. He slammed the door and shouted,
"Let's go! Follow that robot!"
359
"All right, Mr. Quamodian," cheerfully agreed the voice of his flyer. "I have
my clearance now.
Say! Wasn't it nice of the robot inspector to let you ..."
"Shut up," snarled Andy Quam, "Just fiyl I'm in a hurry."
Sulkily the flyer lifted itself off the ground, spun round like a top and
aimed itself toward the waiting ovoid that was the robot, hanging in its
transfiection fields a few meters over the
Starchurch. Quamodian muttered a curse as he picked himself up from where the
sudden gyration had thrown him, the boy in his lap; but he said nothing to the
flyer. "You sit there," he ordered
Rufe. "Strap yourself in. Almalik knows what this stupid flyer will do next."
Aggrieved, the flyer began, "That's not fair. Mr. Qua .. .**
"I told you to shut up!"
The flyer shut up, with an audible, and intentional click and rasp of static,
and Andy Quam and the boy peered away. It was full night, with bright stars
hanging over the hills, though to the west the angry red glare of the swollen,
surly sun was still faintly visible, bloodying the sky over the horizon.
Suddenly the boy grabbed Quamo-dian's arm.
"There, preacherl See it? That's where the sunbolts struck."
"I see," Andy Quam ground out. "Flyer, can't we go any faster?"
Resentfully the voice clicked itself on. "No," it said, and clicked off again.
"Now, stop that!" shouted Quamodian. "Why not?"
The flyer relented. "The robot inspector has issued orders for us to follow
it," it pointed out.
"If I go any faster, it will be following us." Its voice mellowed as it
settled down for a nice chat. "You see, Mr. Quamodian," it said, "it is still
Starday, and the Robot Inspector does not wish to offend the peace of Starday
with a sonic boom. This planet has a rather dense atmosphere, composed
principally of oxygen (twenty per cent), nitrogen (eighty per cent), water
vapor, carbon dioxide ..."
"Skip that part! I know Earth's atmospherel" "Of course. The point is, Mr.
Quamodian, that at these parameters of altitude, temperature and barometric
pressure, the sonic barrier occurs at just a bit over our present speed. So
you see, no, Mr. Quamodian, we cannot
360
go any faster and in any event," it added chattily, "we are there."
The flyer deposited them on the side of the mountain; the robot inspector
would not allow it any closer to the cave mouth. Andy Quam and the boy piled
out, stared upward at the wreck. "Stars, preacher! They really got it!" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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