Logan Trilogy (50 page)

If what you told a robot didn't compute, Logan knew, you had to destroy it in order to move forward.

And destroying a Q-9 at this point vas out of the question. Logic, computable logic, was the best weapon.

The Q-Series machine at the entrydoor leading to the Dream Chamber asked Logan and Francis why they wished to enter.

"The Master has sent us," Logan told the robot. "We are to take one of the Dreamers back to his quarters under our personal escort."

"I have not been notified in advance," said the robot. "That is customary. I am always notified."

"In this case prior notification is not required," said Logan. "Not when one of the Elite Gods is given a direct order by Sturdivent. We were given that order and we are obeying it. Admit us."

Logic.

The robot admitted them.

Inside, as they moved toward the rows of sleeping women, the inner guard approached them. He had been cleared to deal with them automatically.

"I must warn you," be said, "that when a subject is removed from Dreamstate she must undergo a revival period of one hour in order to restore full physical and mental capability."

"Understood," said Logan.

"Might I then suggest," said the robot, "that you make your selection and return in one hour for her.

She will then be totally receptive and functional."

"Sturdivent wants her now," said Logan. "The revival period must be bypassed. We are under direct orders to bring her to the Master without delay."

"Very well," said the machine. "But she will not be immediately responsive to sexual stimulation. You are willing to assume total responsibility for this?"

Logan nodded.

"Then please make your selection."

They moved along the rows, past the sleeping women, each young, firm-breasted, beautiful.

"This one," said Logan, touching Jessica's shoulder.

"Number 43." The guard nodded. "I shall disconnect, and bring her to you."

And as the robot began the process of dream-disconnection, Francis questioned Logan: "Why choose Doyle's sister? I thought you told me you weren't involved with her."

"Why not choose Doyle's sister?" Logan answered in a hard tone. "It makes no difference which woman we take. The idea is to reach Sturdivent."

"Your idea," Francis reminded him. "I liked mine better."

Logan realized he was pushing Francis. Ease off, he told himself; you can't afford to alienate him. This won't work without him. You can't do it alone.

Logan modified his tone, still speaking quietly but with the edge removed. "This will work. I know it will. Trust me, Francis."

"We'll see."

And he measured Logan with a long, hard glance.

Jessica was theirs now. Dressed erotically in a scented loverobe, wearing soft slippers, her hair loose and free-falling, she walked with Logan and Francis in hazed half-sleep, her mind still fogged, eyes unfocused. She did not speak as they guided her into the waiting sky vehicle.

Logan wanted to hold her, comfort her; to eliminate the mental barrier between them—but could do none of these things. To Francis, she was an escaped runner, marked for death after her use as a key to Sturdivent. I'll have to kill him to save Jess, Logan knew. But not yet.

Francis had been most resourceful in stealing the skycraft. By morning, when it would be missed, this would all be over, one way or another.

Logan appreciated the irony, in their situation: Sturdivent is using us; or thinks he is; I'm using Francis and Francis is using Jessica. And, behind it all, the aliens are using me…

Madness. A game of life and death, played across two worlds, with the final resolution at hand.

THE WOUNDED BEAST

Inside, as the skycraft moved swiftly through the night city on the way to Sturdivent, Francis brought out two burnguns, handing one to Logan.

"Where did you get these?"

"Weapons storage," replied Francis. "Same place I got the skybug. You said we'd need weapons."

"I told you we'd take them from Sturdivent once we're there."

"Too risky. We might have to shoot our way in. I figure he'll be a tough man to reach."

"You're wrong," said Logan. "Here, in his little kingdom, he has absolutely nothing to fear. Who's going to harm the Master? Every human in Nirvana is brainwashed, and no robot is going to attack him. And that's what will make my plan work. He's prepared, defensively, for a possible outside assault but we hit from inside."

"We just walk right in."

"Exactly." Logan put aside the burngun. "Jessica will get us to Sturdivent. And when we go in, we go in clean. No guns."

With a shrug, Francis took the burner from his belt and laid it beside Logan's weapon.

On the roof, as they left the skycraft, Sturdivent's chief house robot formally questioned their arrival.

The robot was most polite to these Elite Gods, but he was confused. It was not uncommon that a Dreamer be brought to the Master for late-night pleasure, but the female was always accompanied by other robots. Gods did not accompany Dreamers. As the robot carefully explained, this was not customary.

"The Master personally directed us to bring this Dreamer to him," Logan said in a flat tone, keeping all emotion out of his voice. It was essential that the robot continue to believe them under basic mind-control.

"Not customary," repeated the house machine.

"It is his will and our duty," Francis added. "It would be most unwise if you did not take us to the Master. He would be greatly displeased."

The robot reacted to these key words, and the questioning ended. They were led into the main building, through a labyrinth of corridors, to the personal night chambers of Sturdivent.

Jessica moved with them, docile, easily controlled. Logan looked into her eyes, sought for a flicker of recognition there, but her expression remained vacant, tranquil, childlike. Her body was here, but her mind was with the machine.

I'll get you through this, Jess, Logan silently promised her; I'll get you back to Earth safely, and I'll smash the system that tried to kill you! The aliens picked me for this job, and I'll do it!

The house robot reached toward a metal stud set into a tall bronzed door. "I shall inform the Master that you have arrived."

"That will not be necessary," said Logan. "He is expecting us. Just open the door."

"The Master's door is never locked, but no one may enter unannounced. It is the rule, and the rule cannot be—"

The metallic voice ceased abruptly as Francis fired a prime heatcharge into the robot's back.

"I figured you might be wrong about the guns." Francis grinned. "I brought mine along."

Logan eased open the bronze door. "We could have made it inside without killing the robot," he said tightly. "Now we've lost our advantage."

Francis pushed Jess in ahead of him. "We can use her as a shield, let her take the first shot. Save us killing her later."

Logan glared at him, said nothing. He wouldn't let that happen, even if he had to—

Suddenly they were facing the Master.

Sturdivent stood in a thickly draped archway, in a jeweled nightrobe, a heatgun in his right hand.

Logan stepped toward him, smiling.

"What's happening here?" Sturdivent asked.

"We did not mean to startle you, Master," said Logan. "But we have brought one of the Dreamers for your pleasure. We mean no disrespect by our intrusion." Logan kept his face expressionless, spacing his words in a flat, mind-drugged monotone.

Behind Jessica, masked by her body, Logan saw Francis slip the burnweapon under his tunic. Had Sturdivent seen the gun?

No—he was totally intent on Jessica, devouring her beauty with his dark eyes. Now he swung his gaze to Logan. "A noise…I heard a loud noise from the corridor."

"The woman is still in partial Dreamstate," said Logan. "She stumbled and fell."

"We trust we have not disturbed you, Master," said Francis abjectly. "It is our intent only to further your pleasure."

And Logan followed up smoothly: "The only way we knew to express our gratitude for your generosity toward us. As Elite Gods, we used our authority with the robots to bring you this special gift. Were we wrong in doing so, Master? Are you angry with us?"

Their act was 'working. Sturdivent relaxed, slipping the gun into a pocket of his robe. His eyes were again on Jessica. "This female…is extraordinary," he declared softly, "I am pleased that you have brought her."

Sturdivent approached Jess, pulled her body close to his, running his hands over her full breasts beneath the loverobe. He tipped her chin up, kissed her deeply, his tongue probing her open mouth.

She submitted numbly, mechanically, eyes clouded as Sturdivent began peeling the robe from her shoulders.

"You may go now," he said, without taking his eyes from Jessica.

Behind him, at a signal, Francis passed his burngun to Logan.

Aware of their silence, Sturdivent turned to them, anger flaring in his voice: "You heard me! Do as, I say!"

In one short, lunging step, Logan reached Sturdivent, jabbing the heatgun hard into the flesh of his throat. "No! You do as we say, you slimy sonofabitch!"

Francis plunged his right hand into Sturdivent's robe, pulling the burnweapon from his pocket.

Jessica watched all this with empty, dreaming eyes.

"All right now, Master…" and Logan used the word with bitter contempt, "you take us exactly where we tell you."

"And you take us now," added Francis.

Sturdivent was flushed with shock and anger; his face muscles worked spasmodically as his pale hands clenched and unclenched. He knew he could do nothing. They'd burn him down if he resisted.

The hate in Logan's eyes told him that.

Francis turned on Jessica, leveling the burngun at her. "Time to die, runner!" He grinned at Logan.

"And this time she won't vanish!"

"Wait." ordered Logan, stepping between them. "I want her alive…for now."

"But why?"

"To testify at DS. Against Sturdivent."

"We can do that. She's no good to us now."

"She's my responsibility," said Logan, keeping Sturdivent within gunrange as he spoke. "I say she goes with us."

Francis scowled. "I don't like it."

"There's no time to argue this," snapped Logan. "We know what we have to do. Let's do it."

Francis sighed, moved to Sturdivent, nudged him with the gun. "All right, let's move."

With a beamgun tight against his ribs, Sturdivent took them down a snaking series of corridors and

work tunnels to their predetermined destination: the Central Power Control Unit.

All guards and technicians were dismissed without explanation. No one in Nirvana dared question the Master's direct order.

Logan slidelocked the chamber door, turning to face Sturdivent. The area crackled with harnessed energy; its main control board flickered and sizzled with electronic life. Logan could sense the heartbeat of the vast city within this humming room.

"You know what we want," he said.

"But I'm not a control tech," objected Sturdivent. "I can't do it."

"He's lying," said Francis. "He helped design this unit."

Logan placed the barrel of his weapon against Sturdivent's forehead. His tone was ice: "If you don't do as we say, you know I'll kill you."

Sturdivent's face was fear-beaded; his lower lip trembled. In resignation, he took over the primary control seat and began togging switches.

"Tell us exactly what you're doing," said Logan.

"I'm doing what you asked bringing it to manual," explained Sturdivent. "Then I'll reverse the gravity drive and take the city down under personal control. It's not programmed for automatic descent."

"All right," said Logan.

"This is precise work…I'll need some help."

Francis took over the second control chair. "Tell me what to do," he said.

Sturdivent gave him detailed instructions, while Logan hovered at his shoulder, eyes intent on the descent dial. The city was now lowering toward Earth, dropping down through its artificial cloud cover, descending steadily toward the Valley of Kings.

Behind them, unobserved, Jessica was slowly backing toward the door. She had reached a mental anxiety state; her machine-dazed mind was telling her that something was wrong. I must help the Master! These men are trying to harm him. They must be stopped.

She edged back another foot, reached the door, released the slidelock—just as Logan pivoted toward her, shouting words she didn't understand. Jessica slipped through the door, crying out for the robot guards.

"Damn you, Logan! I warned you about her!" shouted Francis, twisting to fire at an advancing robot.

The machine exploded under the heatcharge—as two more guards rushed forward.

Logan triggered the burner, bringing both of them down in ruin, but another robot was firing from the open doorway—and a laser charge sliced past Logan's head into the main control bank, setting off warning lights and alarms.

Francis managed to slidelock the door again, and now rushed to Sturdivent, who was fighting to maintain a stable altitude.

"How bad?" asked Francis.

"I think I can hold it," said Sturdivent.. "The gravity unit is still intact."

For Logan, it was over. He'd lost. No way to escape now, even if they got down safely. Whole city on alert. No way out. No way to save Jess. Robots at the door with beamers, cutting their way inside.

Time running out.

Can't get back home. My Earth lost to me forever. Jaq lost. Never see Jess again. Mission a failure.

Death waiting.

He could do one thing. He could see to it that this foul kingdom died with him; he could destroy the evil it represented, the perversion and power…

This one final thing he could do.

"Collision course!" he shouted, gun on Sturdivent. "Set it!"

"What?" Sturdivent swung away from the controls. "You can't—"

"I said kill it!" ordered Logan. "Crash the city!"

Francis looked stunned. "Logan, what are you—"