“What puzzles you?” the Superior inquired.
“Just this. I’ve noticed a strange trait you have. Last night, every time Blade asked one of you guys a question, you told him the answer, straight out. The same deal with me. What is it with you varmints? Do you always tell the truth?” Hickok queried.
“Superiors are not humans,” the Superior responded with a touch of indignation in his tone. “We do not deliberately falsify. We are not chronic liars, like so many of you biological organisms. We relate the truth as we perceive it.”
“As you perceive it,” Hickok repeated thoughtfully. “Which may not be as others see it.”
“What others? Humans?” The Superior scrutinized the Warrior.
“Surely you’re not suggesting that human perception of reality is more acute than ours?”
“Could be, buckaroo,” Hickok said.
“Impossible!” the Superior declared.
“Seems to me there’s one thing you keep forgettin’,” Hickok remarked.
“I forget nothing,” the Superior stated. “What are you talking about?”
Hickok smirked. “There’s a fact you conveniently overlook. Namely, if humans are so blamed inferior, then how come humans created the Superiors?”
Before the Superior could reply, the interrogation room door opened.
Hickok glanced up.
Another android was framed in the doorway. He wore a Gaskell Laser on his hip. “RM-14, we have brought the Warrior Blade,” he announced.
RM-14 swiveled in his chair. “Bring the human in.”
The android in the doorway entered and stepped to the right, beckoning for the prisoner to come inside.
Hickok grinned at the sight of the head of the Warriors.
Blade hesitated in the doorway, looking in both directions, then at RM-14, and finally at Hickok.
“Howdy, pard!” Hickok greeted him. “I’m glad to see your ugly puss again.”
Blade smiled. “Same here. Looks like it’s a nice day for some rain.”
Hickok tensed. Over the years, the Warriors had developed a complex system of secret signals, consisting of everything from whistles to body movements to code phrases. A low whistle meant danger. The words “Code One” indicated an emergency existed. And the phrase “nice day for some rain” was a means one Warrior could cryptically alert another to an impending critical situation. And there was only one critical situation, given the circumstances, Hickok could associate Blade’s use of the phrase with: Blade was about to make a bid for their freedom.
The gunman’s deduction was accurate.
Blade slowly started into the interrogation room, his huge hands hanging loosely at his sides.
RM-14 gazed at a window situated high on the south wall. “It will not rain today. There isn’t a cloud in the sky.”
Blade paused, looking at the same window. “I guess you’re right,” he agreed.
Hickok knew Blade was about to make his move. He could tell by the way Blade stood, by his wide stance, and by the way Blade surreptitiously glanced to the left and the right. The gunman studied the positions of the Superiors, girding himself. RM-14 was directly across from him at the table. Two androids were to the right of the open door, one of them standing in front of the other. Another android was to the left of the door, actually standing slightly behind it. And yet another was just crossing the threshold. Hickok rested his hands on the edge of the metal table and smiled at RM-14. “I reckon this means it’s back to the calaboose for me,” he said, hoping to distract the interrogator.
RM-14 looked at the gunman. “Yes. You will be held there until Primator determines your disposition.”
Blade went into action. He’d spent his hours in the stasis field in his cell reviewing his capture and the events since his arrival in Androxia, and he’d decided to attempt an escape at the first opportunity. He didn’t know if Primator would let them live, and he wasn’t about to wait and find out.
Even if Primator did decree their lives would be spared, they might be neutered. And undoubtedly those disks would be implanted in their foreheads. At any rate, except for an earlier meal presided over by a trio of armed Superiors, this was his first time out of the stasis field.
He was not going back.
Blade whirled and lashed out with his left foot and his right hand simultaneously, his left foot driving into the door and slamming the door into the Superior behind it, knocking him into the wall. His right hand, formed into a mallet-like fist, smashed into the nose of the nearest android on the right, sending the Superior reeling backwards into the second android to the rear.
Now came the tricky part.
The android crossing the threshold grabbed for his Gaskell Laser, but before his fingers could close on the weapon the strapping Warrior’s right foot came up and connected with his left kneecap. There was a crunching sound, and the android’s left leg buckled.
Blade closed in, spinning and ramming his right elbow around and in, into the Superior’s rib cage, knowing the blow would not disable the android but hoping it would at least double the Superior over. It did. The android clutched at its ribs, momentarily shaken, neglecting to draw its Laser, and Blade’s right hand dropped to the Gaskell and pulled the gun clear of the holster. He pivoted to the right, raising the Laser, his finger tightening on the trigger, hoping there wasn’t a safety on the weapon because he wouldn’t have time to find it.
The two androids to the right of the door had regained their balance and were going for their Gaskells.
Blade shot the first one in the forehead, the Laser instantly burning through the artificial flesh, searing through the cranium, and scorching a hole out the backside of the android’s head. To Blade’s amazement, the beam of light also struck the second android, catching him between the eyes and dissolving his nose in a bright flash of light, penetrating his head and frying his circuits to a crisp.
RM-14 started to rise, reaching for his Gaskell.
Hickok launched himself across the table, his left shoulder plowing into RM-14’s midriff and causing the Superior to topple backwards over the chair it had been using. They fell to the floor in a tumble of arms and legs.
Blade turned to the left, and there was the android behind the door with his Gaskell already out and aimed. There was a sizzling crackle near Blade’s right ear, and he returned the fire. His shot burned out the android’s right eye and charred a route through its head.
RM-14 rose off the floor, struggling to move his legs, impeded by Hickok’s arms around his ankles.
The Superior in the doorway charged, lunging at Blade with arms extended.
Blade caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and managed to twist, jamming the Gaskell barrel against the android’s right cheek even as the Superior’s arms closed on his waist. He squeezed the trigger as the android lifted him into the air, and he felt the Superior stiffen. The arms about his waist released their grip, and he droppsd to the floor, whirling.
Hickok was clinging to RM-14’s ankles for dear life, preventing the Superior from moving.
RM-14, his attention diverted by the gunman’s tactic for a few precious seconds, perceived his danger and tried to draw.
Blade blasted the Superior through the forehead.
RM-14 quivered for an instant, his eyelids fluttering, then he pitched onto the table, his arms outspread.
Hickok, flat on his stomach, looked up. “Did you get them all yet?”
“They’re all down,” Blade said.
“Finally!” Hickok rose, reaching for RM-14’s Gaskell. “I thought maybe you were tryin’ to see how slow you could waste ’em.” He pulled the Gaskell from RM-14’s holster and examined the gun. “It ain’t a Python, but it’ll do.”
Blade moved to the doorway and peered into the corridor. “I don’t see any more.”