“No such luck,” he said. “Not that it’d be luck. Anybody who’s come here and taken charge like this would probably scupper us. It’s yet another brand of guard robot.” He tried to joke. “That means a further detour. I’m getting more exercise than I really want, aren’t you?”
“You could destroy it.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. If our friend the knight was typical, as I suspect, the lot of them are fairly well armored against energy beams. Besides, I don’t care to waste charge. Used too bloody much in that last encounter. Another fracas, and we could be weaponless.” Flandry started off on a slant across the square. “We’ll avoid him and go catercorner past the domain of that comparatively mild-looking chap there.”
Djana’s gaze followed his finger. Remotely gleamed other immobile forms, including a duplicate of the hippoid and three of the anthropoid. Doubtless more were hidden by irregularities of terrain or its steep fall to the horizon. The machine which Flandry had in mind was closer, just left of his intended path. It was another cylinder, more tall and slim than the robot with the hammers. The smooth bright surface was unbroken by limbs. The conical head was partly split down the middle, above an array of instruments.
“He may simply be a watcher,” Flandry theorized.
They had passed by, the gaunt abstract statue was falling behind, when Djana yelled.
Flandry spun about. The thing had left its square and was entering the one they were now in.
Dust and sparkling ice crystals whirled in the meter of space between its base and the ground. Air cushion drive, beat through Flandry. He looked frantically around for shelter. Nothing. This square held only basalt and frozen water.
“Run!” he cried. He retreated backward himself, blaster out. The heart slugged in him, the breath rasped, still hot from his prior battle.
A pencil of white fire struck at him from the cleft head. It missed at its range, but barely. He felt heat gust where the energy splashed and steam exploded. A sharp small thunderclap followed.
This kind does pack a gun!
Reflexively, he returned a shot. Less powerful, his beam bounced off the alloy hide. The robot moved on it. He could hear the roar of its motor. A direct hit at closer quarters would pierce his suit and body. He fired again and prepared to flee.
If I can divert that tin bastard—It did not occur to Flandry that his action might get him accused of gallantry. He started off in a different direction from the girl’s. Longer-legged, he had a feebly better chance than she of keeping ahead of death, reaching a natural barricade and making a stand…
Tensed with the expectation of lightning, the hope that his air unit would give protection and not be ruined, he had almost reached the next line when he realized there had been no fire. He braked and turned to stare behind.
The robot must have halted right after the exchange. Its top swung back and forth, as if in search. Surely it must sense him.
It started off after Djana.
Flandry spat an oath and pounded back to help. She had a good head start, but the machine was faster, and if it had crossed one line, wouldn’t it cross another? Flandry’s boots slammed upon stone. Oxygen-starved, his brain cast forth giddiness and patches of black. His intercepting course brought him nearer. He shot. The bolt went wild. He bounded yet more swiftly. Again he shot. This time he hit.
The robot slowed, veered as if to meet this antagonist who could be dangerous, faced away once more and resumed its pursuit of Djana. Flandry held down his trigger and hosed it with flame. The girl crossed the boundary. The robot stopped dead.
But—but—gibbered in Flandry’s skull.
The robot stirred, lifted, and swung toward him. It moved hesitantly, wobbling a trifle, not as if damaged—it couldn’t have been—but as if…puzzled?
I shouldn’t be toting a blaster, Flandry thought in the turmoil. With my shape, I’m supposed to carry sword and shield.
The truth crashed into him.
He took no time to examine it. He knew simply that he must get into the same square as Djana. An anthropoid with blade and scute in place of hands could not crawl very well. Flandry went on all fours. He scuttled backward. The lean tall figure rocked after him, but no faster. Its limited computer—an artificial brain moronic and monomaniacal—could reach no decision as to what he was and what to do about him.
He crossed the line. The robot settled to the ground.
Flandry rose and tottered toward Djana. She had collapsed several meters away. He joined her. Murk spun down upon him.
It lifted in minutes, after his air unit purified the atmosphere in his suit and his stimulated cells drank the oxygen. He sat up. The machine that had chased them was retreating to the middle of the adjacent square, another gleam against the dark plain, under the dark sky. He looked at his blaster’s charge indicator. It stood near zero. He could reload it from the powerpack he carried, but his life-support units needed the energy worse. Maybe.
Djana was rousing too. She half raised herself, fell across his lap, and wept. “It’s no use, Nicky. We can’t make it. We’ll be murdered. And if we do get by, what’ll we find? A thing that builds killing engines. Let’s go back. We can go back the way we came. Can’t we? And have a little, little while alive together—”
He consoled her until the chill and hardness of the rock on which he sat got through to him. Then, stiffly, he rose and assisted her to her feet. His voice sounded remote and strange in his ears. “Ordinarily I’d agree with you, dear. But I think I see what the arrangement is. The way the bishop behaved. Didn’t you notice?”
“B-b-bishop?”
“Consider. Like the knight, I’m sure, the bishop attacks when the square he’s on is invaded. I daresay the result of a move on this board depends on the outcome of the battle that follows it. Now a bishop can only proceed offensively along a diagonal. And the pieces are only programed to fight one other piece at a time; of certain kinds, at that.” Flandry stared toward his hidden destination. “I imagine the anthropoids are the pawns. I wonder why. Maybe because they’re the most numerous pieces, and the computer was lonely for mankind?”
“Computer?” She huddled against him.
“Has to be. Nothing else could have made this. It used the engineering facilities it had, possibly built some additional manufacturing plant. It didn’t bother coloring the squares or the pieces, knowing quite well which was which. That’s why I didn’t see at once we’re actually on a giant chessboard.” Flandry grimaced. “If I hadn’t…we’d’ve quit, returned, and died. Come on.” He urged her forward.
“We can’t go further,” she pleaded. “We’ll be set on.”
“Not if we study the positions of the pieces,” he said, “and travel on the squares that nobody can currently enter.”
After some trudging: “My guess is, the computer split its attention into a number of parts. One or more to keep track of the wild robots. Two, with no intercommunication, to be rival chessmasters. That could be why it hasn’t noticed something strange is going on today. I wonder if it can notice anything new any longer, without being nudged.”
He zigzagged off the board with Djana, onto the blessed safe unmarked part of the land, and walked around the boundary. En route he saw a robot that had to be a king. It loomed four meters tall in the form of a man who wore the indoor dress of centuries ago, gold-plated and crowned with clustered diamonds. It bore no weapons. He learned later that it captured by divine right.