“If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly do you do here, anyway?”
“Mostly I don’t,” Harry boasted. “I let Sam here do all the real work.” He gestured to the huge mass of dials and screens that took up one whole wall of the office. “Sam coordinates and controls the design and production of one-fifth of the robots Mc. Crae markets.”
Hosato raised his eyebrows appreciatively. “From what I hear, that’s a lot.”
“You bet your broadsword it is.” Turner smiled. “We aren’t a nickel-and-dime outfit like Ravensteel.”
“Speaking of Ravensteel, do you have much trouble with them?”
“Not really. It’s more of a Mexican standoff. Why?”
“Well, ever since I arrived here, I’ve been noticing the extensive security precautions. Heck, you can’t turn around without tripping over a guard. I notice Sam there has a voice lock on him.”
Turner shrugged. “It’s something you learn to live with,” he said. “The reason we don’t have any trouble with Ravensteel is that we have security tight enough to strangle an inchworm. Otherwise the Ravensteel spies would be all over us. They haven’t had an original idea since the IR. AM split.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Hosato conceded.
“As to Sam’s voice lock, that’s my own precaution. It’s more of a safeguard against office politics than against Ravensteel.”
“Office politics?”
“Be thankful you’re out of it, Hayama.” Turner grimaced. “Sometimes I think we spend more time spying on each other than on the opposition. The more the machines take over, the more time we have to bootlick and backstab over promotions. There’s nothing some of my fellow vice-presidents would like better than to steal my ideas or have advance information so they could do a little shotgunning at the planning sessions. I didn’t get where I am today by trusting people.”
“That bad, huh?” Hosato commented sympathetically.
There was no reply. He glanced at Turner, to find the vice-president studying him with a new suspicion.
“Just to show you how paranoid someone in my position can get, Hayama,” he said. “It occurs to me you’ve got an awful lot of questions about security.”
“Relax, Harry.” Hosato smiled. “The last thing I want to do is get people suspicious. That’s why I’m asking. I have a hunch ignorance would not be accepted as a valid excuse if I accidentally blundered into the wrong room or area.”
“You’re right there,” Turner admitted. “As a member of my personal staff, you’ve pretty much got free run of the complex. Just stay out of the restricted areas.”
“Where are they?”
“You can’t miss 'em. There are warning signs and locks all over, not to mention the robots will automatically warn you off.”
“Can you give me some specifics?”
“Mostly the offices and the manufacturing areas. Sasha can give you a map if you ask her.”
Hosato made a face. “I’d rather not,” he said. “I don’t think she likes me.”
“Don’t take it personally, Hayama. The bitch doesn’t like anybody.”
Hosato almost smiled at the similarity between Turner’s opinion of Sasha and Suzi’s.
“How much authority does she have, anyway?” he asked.
“Too much,” Turner said grimly. “She reports directly to the president. Between you and me, she could shoot anyone in this complex down in their tracks and not have to justify it to anybody but the board. Sweet, huh?”
“Terrific,” Hosato responded with heartfelt sincerity.
“Don’t let it scare you off.” Turner was suddenly conspiratorial. “We won’t have to put up with it much longer. She and her pack of goons will be out on their ears when… if my latest project idea works out.”
Turner was suddenly guarded again. Hosato took the cue and didn’t push for details.
“Well,” he said, heaving to his feet, “you’re busy, so I won’t take up any more of your time.”
“Drop in anytime, Hayama.” Turner smiled.
The smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Hosato sneaked a second glance as he reached the door. Turner was still sitting at his desk-robot but was staring thoughtfully at the wall. Hosato guessed he was reviewing what he had said and wondering if he had said too much. Turner hadn’t said much, but he had said enough to set Hosato thinking.
The first immediate effect of Turner’s comments was to change Hosato’s plans for the balance of the morning. Instead of returning to his apartment, he set out to explore the complex.
If there was a security change in the wind, it might accelerate his plans. Even though theoretically machines were easier to fool, Hosato preferred to pit his abilities against human guards. Humans could be lulled by repetition of existing patterns, but a machine would check things as closely on its thousandth execution of routine as it did on its first.
“Going my way, Hayama?”
Sasha had materialized in the corridor behind him. Hosato felt the instinctive surge of distrust he experienced with anyone who moved quieter than he did.
He shrugged. “Just looking for a bite of breakfast.”
“Good. I’ll tag along and have a cup of coffee. Of course, just to keep it in the line of duty, I’ll have to ask you a few questions.”
“Fine.” Hosato forced a note of cordiality into his voice.
“Who made your robot?” she asked, falling in step with him.
“Actually, it’s a custom job.”
“I know that.” She smiled. “But whose work is it?”
“I can’t recall his name just offhand. He’s dead now. I think it’s on the schematics somewhere, if you want to check.”
“I’ve checked already,” she retorted. “Nobody recognizes the name, and we can’t find it in our computer files anywhere.”
“I’ll try to remember some details,” Hosato promised. “Why. Is it important?”
“Not really,” Sasha admitted. “I’m just reflexively suspicious of anything new and unusual. Goes with the job. But it’s awfully convenient, you and your robot turning up uninvited just when we need a coach.”
“But is there anything specific that’s worrying you?” Hosato asked. “I didn’t think Suzi was that different from most simple robots.”
“Yes and no,” Sasha commented thoughtfully. “It seems to be awfully large for the functions of the schematics. You could reduce its size drastically.”
“Mechanically maybe,” Hosato commented. “But I think there’s one function you’re overlooking. One of my robot’s primary duties is to act as a fencing partner, performing simple moves against a student while I watch and criticize. The student needs a man-sized opponent to perform against, so a compact unit the size of a mailbox won’t do at all. Do you understand?”
“I suppose,” Sasha said grudgingly. “But there’s still a lot of unused space there. Couldn’t you get by with less depth or maybe with a fold-out target panel?”
“Maybe,” Hostao admitted. “But I’m not rich enough to experiment. I had this unit built and it works. That’s good enough for me.”
“While you’re here, you might see what some of our designer robots could come up with as an option. It couldn’t hurt to find out. Incidentally, why do you have it rigged so you can open only one door at a time?”
“It’s a safety factor,” Hosato said easily. “Some of the weapons I carry have real points and edges. I don’t want them spilling out when—”
A high-pitched beeping interrupted the conversation. Quick as a flash, Sasha palmed the communications unit off her belt, unreeled the ear plug, and fitted it to her ear in one easy motion.
“Go ahead,” she barked into the mouthpiece. “Uh-huh no, seal the area double the force at points Echo and Fred have Ralph standing-by with gas just in case… I’m on my way.”
She collapsed the unit and replaced it on her belt.