Between the Strokes of Night

“Don’t worry,” said Peron. “They don’t move fast enough to be dangerous. We can get out of the way, or even move them around if we have to. They’re the maintenance crew for the ship. All normal functions are automatic and under computer control. One person can run everything, and even he may be unnecessary except for emergencies. But the robots certainly made my life confusing. When I first found myself in S-space I thought I was going mad. Those machines were a big part of the reason. The other people on the ship could make things happen by magic. They asked for something to be done, or they asked to be taken somewhere, and it was accomplished instantly.”

Peron snapped his fingers. “Just like that. I tried to do the same thing, and it wouldn’t work for me. When I reached this chamber and saw the robots I finally understood what had been happening. The machines respond to commands given by people in S-space. The ship’s computer must be voice-coded through the terminals. When a command is given by someone whose voice is recognized and accepted by the system, the computer mobilizes the robots to carry out the instructions. They don’t move very fast, but they don’t have to. They’re quick enough to be invisible in S-space. Even if it takes the robots ten minutes to bring you a drink, or carry you from one part of the ship to another, you don’t notice. That’s only a fraction of a second as you perceive it.”

The others had moved closer to the ranks of robots and were looking at them curiously.

“They seem pretty standard,” said Sy. “I’ve never seen this design before, but they’re computer-controlled. We should be able to understand their instruction procedure.”

“But why?” said Rosanne. “Even when we understand it, Peron, what are we supposed to do with it?”

“Dig into the coding. Change it. Make it so that our voices can give acceptable commands, too. And maybe make it so that the system won’t respond to Captain Rinker and the others in S-space.”

“But what good will all that do?” Elissa was looking puzzled.

Lum grinned at her. “Isn’t it obvious?” He turned to Peron. “Rinker is quite right, Peron, you are a troublemaker. You intend to take over this ship. Then we’ll go and visit Immortal Headquarters — wherever that is — on our terms.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Olivia Ferranti blinked her eyes. The texture of the illumination seemed a little different, not quite the way that she remembered it before she last went to S-space; and her body was light, floating away, as though she was leaving part of her on the padded floor or the container.

She shivered and slowly sat up, rubbing at her chilled forearms; then she suddenly jerked to full wakefulness. She was being observed. Five faces were peering in warily at her through the transparent top of the suspense tank. She pulled herself forward to the casket’s door and eased it open. Peron was standing there, nervously watching.

“You read our message?” he said.

“Of course we did — you were watching us, weren’t you?”

He nodded. “We told you to send someone at once. But it seemed to take you an awful long time.”

Olivia Ferranti was breathing deeply, adjusting to the familiar but surprising taste of the air in her lungs. She shrugged her shoulders, as much for muscular experiment as for any body message.

“Four days — four days here. But we only talked for a few minutes in S-space. I call that a fast response.” She looked around her, at Peron and the others. “Relax. I was only sent here to talk. What do you think I’m going to do, knock the lot of you down and tie you up? Any one of you could beat me in a fight. You’re the Planetfest winners, remember?”

“We remember,” said Peron. “We just want to be sure that you do. You and the others. Why are you here, and not Rinker?”

“He made the transition very recently, just a couple of hours ago, when the automatic systems were going wrong. Transitions too close together have bad effects. In fact, frequent transitions shorten subjective life expectancy. And he doesn’t trust you, either.”

She licked her lips. “I guess he thinks I’m more expendable. Look, I know you’re in a hurry to talk, but I’d like a drink of water.”

Peron glanced briefly at the others, then led the way back through the winding corridor, taking them once more to the central food processing chamber of the ship.

“He didn’t really want anybody to talk to you,” said Ferranti as they moved along the corridor. “But he agreed that there was no choice. ‘They’ll be like a band of wild apes,’ he said. ‘Fiddling around with my ship! They don’t know how anything works — my God, there’s no way of knowing what they may do to it and to us!’ “

She looked around her at the intent young faces that closely watched her every movement. “I must say that I have to agree with him. I’m sure you’re feeling pretty cocky at the moment, with everything under control. But you could kill this ship by pure accident. It’s frightening — you’re smart, but there are so many things you simply don’t know.”