Hidden Empire (47 page)
W
hen occasional Klikiss robots appeared on the inhabited worlds in the Spiral Arm, usually traveling on Ildiran transports,
they were curiosities, treated with awe and amazement by anyone who saw them. They arrived like sentinels, self-contained
mysteries, speaking little as they silently observed their surroundings.
Sometimes, apparently on a whim, the alien relics offered to help in harsh environments, working in space settlements or on
airless moons. Hardy colonists usually welcomed the robots’ capacity for heavy labor, especially since it cost them nothing.
The few black machines that arrived on Earth had caused quite a stir, though they never asked for anything. The Klikiss robots
seemed completely unflappable, showing no response whether insulted or treated with awe. They remained passive and never spoke
about what they truly wanted. Klikiss robots inquired about nothing, made no requests. In fact, they didn’t
do
much at all.
The robot designated as Jorax had been on Earth for five years. In the capital city he wandered the public grounds around
the Whisper Palace. Jorax had never taken a sightseeing dirigible, nor spoken a single buzzing word, but one day he had climbed
aboard a powered gondola with a group of curious visitors from cloudy Dremen. Though Jorax made no move to pay the accustomed
fee, the flustered gondolier had taken the black robot up and down the Royal Canal. Jorax had disembarked at the end of the
ride without so much as a thank-you or a single question, but the event had given the gondolier, as well as his sponsoring
boat company, much to talk about for months to come.
While Jorax loitered around the vast grounds of the Whisper Palace—“lurked” was the word some of the royal security troops
used—he could have been spying, recording data on the King’s government buildings. But since the Klikiss robot never attempted
to enter a restricted area or probe into questionable subjects, the Hansa could not deny him the right to be where the rest
of the public wandered and gaped and took souvenir images.
Some daring visitors slipped family members close to Jorax and snapped images of the giant black robot that they later showed
to their friends, while boasting of the “danger” they had encountered in getting so close to a Klikiss robot. All the while,
as Jorax navigated public places, Hansa security forces recorded his every movement, gathering intelligence until someone
could decide what to do.
After the strange alien attacks on Oncier and Golgen, King Frederick had mobilized the resources of the Hanseatic League and
the Earth Defense Forces. He had challenged scientists and industries to strive for their best innovations, at all costs;
thus, the Klikiss robot became an object of more intense curiosity.
Jorax stood in the Moon Statue Garden, a beautiful outdoor museum surrounded by hedges of scarlet hibiscus. Sculptures of
bronze, marble, and polymerized aluminum stood on pedestals, artfully placed and enhanced with trickling water, colored spotlights,
and blooming flowers. The Klikiss robot had remained as motionless as a statue for two full days, though his glowing optical
sensors were not focused on any particular work.
At noon, with the sun high overhead, a well-dressed man walked up to Jorax in the statue garden, exhibiting a great deal of
repressed anxiety. He stood in front of Jorax, waiting for some response. Receiving none, he said aloud, raising his voice
far more than was necessary, “My name is William Andeker—uh,
Dr
. William Andeker. I belong to an important industrial research group with ties to the EDF.” He paused again, fidgeting and
uncertain.
Jorax finally swiveled his geometrical head and directed the two largest red optical sensors at the scientist.
Andeker continued, “I was … wondering if you might be interested in seeing my laboratory facility?” He swallowed hard, then
pushed ahead. “I’m very curious about Klikiss robots. I know the details of your past have been wiped from your memories—correct?—but
I could do some analysis. I might be able to find answers for both of us.”
Finally Jorax spoke. “That is a possibility.”
Startled, William Andeker took one step backward and then beamed. “It’s very important now that this new alien threat has
arrived. You’re aware of the attacks? We don’t understand the enemy, and therefore it’s vital that we increase our knowledge
in all areas. Don’t you agree?”
“A reasonable assumption,” Jorax said.
“I, uh, already know how the Klikiss robots were rediscovered, of course, but there are still so many blank spots, so many
question marks.”
Evidently interpreting this as a simple statement, Jorax did not offer a reply.
While human prospectors on abandoned worlds had found other groups of dormant Klikiss robots, the ancient machines had first
been rediscovered by the Ildirans—three centuries before the Solar Navy made contact with human generation ships.
An Ildiran fleet had completed an inspection tour in the icy outer planets of the Hyrillka system, then brought in an Ildiran
mining town to exploit the frozen moons. During the massive operation of dropping life-support domes and offloading enough
equipment and supplies for a full-fledged splinter colony, the Ildiran workers had dug down into the crust. There, they found
inclusions of processed metal, intact tunnels, sealed chambers—and a deactivated Klikiss robot among the ruins of an ancient
installation. Excited and curious, the miners had dug out the motionless robot and reactivated its systems.
“Your name is Jorax, correct?” Andeker said. “I’ve studied as much background as I could find about you.”
“Yes, my designation is Jorax.”
“Are you really the first robot that was discovered? The one dug out of the ice on the Hyrillka moon?”
“Yes,” Jorax said. Andeker seemed ready to fall over with excitement.
After being awakened from his long electronic sleep, Jorax had seemed extremely confused, his data apparently wiped clean,
unable to recall where he was or how he had come to be buried in the ice. It had taken Jorax some time to translate the Ildiran
computer systems and adapt them to his memory cache. But once the Klikiss robot had accessed the language files, he had learned
to communicate with his rescuers. It had been a unidirectional exchange, however, since Jorax volunteered no information about
himself.
By the time the Solar Navy arrived in response to this mystery, the lone Klikiss robot had unearthed and reactivated a dozen
more insectoid robots from the abandoned Klikiss station. They had all apparently been frozen in the ice at the same time.
Ildirans had already discovered ruined Klikiss cities on other planets, but the gregarious people had no need to trespass
in the shadow of another race’s home. In subsequent centuries, Jorax and his fellows had discovered and reactivated thousands
of Klikiss robots dispersed in other storage—or hiding—places on various worlds.
“What is it you hope to learn from me, Dr. William Andeker?” Jorax said, not taking a step to follow.
“I have received special dispensation from Hansa officials to bring you into my cybernetics laboratory. I am allowed to show
you around, if you will permit me to ask questions.” Andeker continued, his words picking up speed. “Normally such a place
would be off-limits to you—and to most citizens of the Hansa. Please allow me to take advantage of this opportunity for both
of us.”
Jorax powered up his systems and raised his elongated body, extending his eight flexible legs. “Lead me to this place.” He
scuttled along as if his body were carried by two sets of fingers scrambling across a keyboard.
After passing through numerous security scans and guard checkpoints, Andeker practically hopped and danced, delighted to show
the black robot into his laboratory. They were alone, for Andeker had guaranteed Jorax privacy and confidentiality. The human
scientist seemed eager to secure priority on any discoveries he might obtain.
“You robots have probably been asked any question I can imagine,” Andeker said. “But here, in my laboratory, maybe I can determine
answers in other ways.”
Jorax had already scanned the room, noting the security systems and observation cameras. Though the Klikiss robot had agreed
to the process, now that they were sealed in the chamber, Andeker seemed more agitated and frightened than when he had first
approached the robot in the statue garden.
Jorax understood that the human meant to deceive him in some way. So he waited.
Andeker went to control decks and powered up several systems. “Please stand here.” The scientist motioned him to a spot near
the wall where a mechanical apparatus was mounted, humming as if ready to move.
Jorax obeyed, betraying no emotional response and voicing no complaint.
“I’m sorry,” Andeker murmured, though not below Jorax’s detection threshold. He activated a system.
Powerful clamps shot out of wall sockets, struck Jorax’s body core, and locked restraints upon his outstretched limbs. One
fastened around his thorax socket. Jorax did not try to move out of the way. After making a brief survey of the tensile strength
of the restraining devices, he believed he could summon enough power to tear himself free.
If he chose to do so.
Andeker came forward, distraught. “This is a restraint cage, Jorax. It can project fields that dampen electrical power sources.
It will hold you motionless, so please don’t try to escape.” He frowned, deeply apologetic—as if such emotions mattered to
Jorax. “You see, the Hansa is facing a crisis situation with these attacks on Oncier and Golgen. You and your fellow Klikiss
robots may offer a source of new technological breakthroughs.”
He reached out to touch the carapace of the Klikiss machine, then withdrew with a jerk. “We can’t be sure unless I study you
properly.” Andeker hurried back to his console and looked over his shoulder. “I assure you, I will be as gentle as possible.
I’m sorry.”
Before the treacherous scientist could begin to dismantle him, the Klikiss robot assessed the situation and decided his response.
With a single blast of a high-powered scrambling beam, Jorax transmitted a surge strong enough to destroy all of the recording
apparatus in the laboratory.
Andeker tried to reactivate his systems, to send the energydampening field through the restraint cage, but none of his equipment
would respond.
Previously hidden weapons components emerged from sealed portholes in Jorax’s black carapace. Intense laser cutters easily
sliced him free of the restraining clamps, which he tossed like scrap metal onto the laboratory floor.
With his clusters of flexible legs, Jorax moved away from the wall, scanned the room with his scarlet optical sensors, then
began to move toward William Andeker. The scientist shouted for help, but he had sealed them into the laboratory room. With
all power systems down, no one could break in.
More cutters and weapons systems emerged from the robot’s body core. Andeker backed toward the wall, frozen with fear.
“There are some things you cannot be permitted to know,” Jorax said. He easily closed the distance to the human scientist.
T
he new Erphano skymine had functioned admirably since it had been put into service. Berndt Okiah studied the weekly ekti tallies
and took pride in the facility’s accomplishments. He had already decided to issue a nice bonus to all the workers who had
made this dream a reality.
Berndt stood on the control deck as the skymine cruised like a hungry waif above the clouds. Through the huge panoramic windows,
he saw an endless landscape of soft mists, green gases, and swirling currents that painted an everchanging expression on the
face of Erphano.
Scout ships flew like crows around the giant skymine. Atmospheric chemists and meteorological engineers dipped into the cloud
decks, monitoring storms, studying upwellings of exotic chemical components that were cooked deep inside the gas giant. On
the command deck, some of Berndt’s associates monitored the reactor and storage systems.
One man played copies of musical recordings that had been in his clan for generations. Berndt himself did not enjoy the atonal
racket, but he let the crewman have his preference, so long as the rest of his operational team didn’t complain. He had learned
how to relax more, how to be open and lenient. His wife, Marta, said it was good for him.
Wearing warm clothing, the curly-haired engineer Eldon Clarin climbed the metal ladder to the command deck, looking distracted
but satisfied. “Something wrong, Eldon?” Berndt’s burly body filled the new high-backed, padded seat like an old barbarian
king surveying his domain.
“Exactly the opposite, Chief,” Clarin said. “Every single system has been checked and double-checked. My new modifications
are performing admirably, not even a twitch of deviation from optimal parameters.”
Berndt rubbed his hands together. “I’ll send a message to my grandmother. She’ll see to it that your upgrades are put into
our entire fleet of skymines. And I’ll make sure you get all the credit.”
