I never realized that they were robot-operated," Dall said. "I thought robots had an ingrained resistance to killing people?"
"In-built rather than ingrained would be more accurate," Stane said judiciously. "Robotic brains are just highly developed machines with no inherent moral sense. That is added afterwards. It has been a long time since we built man-shaped robots with human-type brains. This is the age of the specialist, and robots can specialize far better than men ever could. The Mosaic torpedo brains have no moral sense — if anything they are psychotic, overwhelmed by a death wish. Though there are, of course, controls on how much they can kill. All the torpedoes ever used by either side had mass detectors to defuse them when they approached any object with planetary mass, since the reaction started by a torpedo could just as easily destroy a world as a ship. You can understand our interest when in the last months of the war, we picked up a torpedo fused only to detonate a planet. All the data from its brain was filed and recently interpreted. The torpedo was aimed at the fourth planet of the star we are approaching now."
"Anything on the record about this planet?" Dall asked. "Nothing. It is an unexplored system — at least as far as our records are concerned. But the Greater Slavocracy knew enough about this planet to want to destroy it. We are here to find out why."
Dall the Younger furrowed his brow, chewing at the idea. "Is that the only reason?" he finally asked. "Since we stopped them from wiping out this planet, that would be the end of it, I should think."
"It’s thinking like that that shows why you are the low-ranker on this ship," Gunner Arnild snapped as he came in. Arnild had managed to grow old in a very short-lived service, losing in the process, his patience for everything except his computers and guns. "Shall I suggest some of the possibilities that have occurred even to me? Firstly — any enemy of the Slavocracy could be a friend of ours. Or conversely, there may be an enemy here that threatens the entire human race, and we may need to set off a Mosaic ourselves to finish the job the Slavers started. Then again, the Slavers may have had something here — like a research center — that they would rather have destroyed than let us see. Wouldn’t you say that any one of these would make the planet worth investigating?"
"We shall be in the atmosphere within twenty hours," Dall said as he vanished through the lower hatch. "I have to check the lubrication on the drive gears.
"You’re too easy on the kid," Gunner Arnild said, staring moodily at the approaching star, already dimmed by the forward filters.
"And you’re too hard," Stane told him. "So I guess it evens out. You forget he never fought the Slavers."
Skimming the outer edges of the atmosphese of the fourth planet, the scout ship hurled itself through the measured length of a helical orbit, then fled back into the safety of space while the ship’s robot brain digested and made copies of the camera and detector instrument recordings. The duplicates were stored in a message torp, and only when the torp had started hack to base did Commander Stane bother personally to examine the results of their survey.
"We’re dispensable now," he said, relaxing. "So the best thing we can do is to drop down and see what we can stir up." Arnild grunted agreement, his index fingers unconciously pressing invisible triggers. They leaned over the graphs and photographs spread out on the table. Dall peered between their shoulders and flipped through the photographs they tossed aside. He was first to speak.
"Nothing much there, really. Plenty of water, a big island continent — and not much else."
"Nothing else is detectable," Stane added, ticking off the graphs one by one. "No detectable radiation, no large masses of metal either above or below ground, no stored energy. No reason for us to be here."
"But we are," Arnild growled testily. "So let’s touch down and find out more first hand. Here’s a good spot," he tapped a photograph, then pushed it into the enlarger. "Could be a primitive hut city, people walking around, smoke."
"Those could be sheep in the fields," Dall broke in eagerly. "And boats pulled up on the shore. We’ll find out something there."
"I’m sure we will," Commander Stane said. "Strap in for landing."
Lightly and soundlessly the ship fell out of the sky, curving in a gentle arc that terminated at the edge of a grove of tall trees, on a hill above the city. The motors whined to a stop and the ship was silent.
"Report positive on the atmosphere," Dall said, checking off the analyzer dials.
"Stay at the guns, Arnild," Commander Stane said. "Keep us covered, but don’t shoot unless I tell you to."
"Or unless you’re dead," Arnild said with complete lack of emotion.
"Or unless I’m dead," Stane answered him, in the same toneless voice. "In which case you will assume command."
He and Dall buckled on planet kits, cycled through the lock and sealed it behind them. The air was soft and pleasantly warm, filled with the freshness of growing plants.
"Really smells good after that canned stuff," Dall said. "You have a great capacity for stating the obvious." Arnild’s voice rasped even more than usual when heard through the bone conductor phones. "Can you see what’s going on in the village?"
Dall fumbled his binoculars out. Commander Stane had been using his since they left the ship. "Nothing moving," Stane said. "Send an Eye down there."
The Eye whooshed away from the ship and they could follow its slow swing through the village below. There were about a hundred huts, simple pole-and-thatch affairs, and the Eye carefully investigated every one.
"No one there," Arnild said, as he watched the monitor screen. "The animals are gone too, the ones from the aerial pic."
"The people can’t have vanished," Dall said. "There are empty fields in every direction, completely without cover. And I can see smoke from their fires."
"The smoke’s there, the people aren’t," Arnild said testily. "Walk down and look for yourself."
The Eye lifted up from the village and drifted back towards the ship. It swung around the trees and came to a sudden stop in mid-air.
"Hold it!" Arnild’s voice snapped in their ears. "The huts are empty. But there’s someone m the tree you’re standing next to. About ten metres over your heads!"
Both men controlled a natural reaction to look up. They moved out a bit, where they would be safe from anything dropped from above.
"Far enough," Arnild said. "I’m shifting the Eye for a better look." They could hear the faint drone of the Eye’s motors as it changed position.
"It’s a girl. Wearing some kind of fur outfit. No weapons that I can see, but some kind of a pouch hanging from her waist. She’s just clutching onto the tree with her eyes closed. Looks like she’s afraid of falling."
The men on the ground could see her dimly now, a huddled shape against the straight trunk.
"Don’t bring the Eye any closer," Commander Stane said.
"But turn the speaker on. Hook my phone into the circuit."
"You’re plugged in."
"We are friends… Come down… We will not hurt you." The words boomed down from the floating speaker above their heads.
"She heard it, but maybe she can’t understand Esperanto," Arnild said. "She just hugged the tree harder while you were talking."
Commander Stane had had a good command of Slaver during the war, he groped in his memory for the words, doing a quick translation. He repeated the same phrase, only this time in the tongue of their defeated enemies.
"That did something, Commander," Arnild reported. "She jumped so hard she almost fell off. Then scooted up a couple of branches higher before she grabbed on again."