A Circus of Hells by Poul Anderson. Part two

he took her arm and pointed. “Look,” he said.

A new kind of robot was approaching from within the square. It was about

the size of a man. The skin gleamed golden. Iridescence was lovely over

the great batlike wings that helped the springing to its two long hoofed

and spurred legs. The body was a horizontal barrel, a balancing tail

behind, a neck and head rearing in front. With its goggling optical and

erect audio sensors, its muzzle that perhaps held the computer, its mane

of erect antennae, that head looked eerily equine. From its forepart,

swivel-mounted, thrust a lance.

“We could almost call it a rockinghorsefly, couldn’t we?” Flandry said.

“As for the bread-and-butterfly–” His classical reference was lost on

the girl.

She screamed afresh when the robot wheeled and came toward them in huge

leaps. The lance was aimed to kill.

IX

Djana was the target. She stood paralyzed. “Run!” Flandry bawled. He

sped to intercept. The gun flamed in his grasp. Sparks showered where

the beam struck.

Djana bolted. The robot swerved and bounded after her. It paid no

attention to Flandry. And his shooting had no effect he could see.

Must be armored against energy beams–unlike the things we’ve met

hitherto–He thumbed the power stud to full intensity. Fire cascaded

blinding off the metal shape. Heedless, it bore down on his unarmed

companion.

“Dodge toward me!” Flandry cried.

She heard and obeyed. The lance struck her from behind. It did not

penetrate the air tank, as it would have the thinner cuirass of the

spacesuit. The blow knocked her sprawling. She rolled over, scrambled up

and fled on. Wings beat. The machine was hopping around to get at her

from the front.

It passed by Flandry. He leaped. His arms locked around the neck of the

horsehead. He threw a leg over the body. The wings boomed behind him

where he rode.

And still the thing did not fight him, still it chased Djana. But

Flandry’s mass slowed it, made it stumble. Twisting about, he fired into

the right wing. Sheet metal and a rib gave way. Crippled, the robot went

to the ground. It threshed and bucked. Somehow Flandry hung on.

Battered, half stunned, he kept his blaster snout within centimeters of

the head and the trigger held back. His faceplate darkened itself

against furious radiance. Heat struck at him like teeth.

Abruptly came quiet. He had pierced through to an essential part and

slain the killer.

He sprawled across it, gasping the oven-hot air into his mouth, aware of

undergarments, sodden with sweat and muscles, athrob with bruises, dimly

aware that he had better arise. Not until Djana returned to him did he

feel able to.

A draught of water and stimpill shoved through his chowlock restored a

measure of strength. He looked at the machine he had destroyed and

thought vaguely that it was quite handsome. Like a dreamworld knight …

Almost of themselves his arm lifted in salute and his voice murmured.

“Ahoy, ahoy, check.”

“What?” Djana asked, equally faintly.

“Nothing.” Flandry willed the aches out of his consciousness and the

shakes out of his body. “Let’s get going.”

“Y-y-yes.” She was suffering worse from reaction than him. Her features

seemed completely drained. She started off with mechanical strides, back

toward the mountain.

“Wait a tick!” Flandry grabbed her shoulder. “Where’re you bound?”

“Away,” she said without tone. “Before something else comes after us.”

“To sit in the sealtent–or at best, the boat–and wait for death? No,

thanks.” Flandry turned her about. She was too numbed to resist. “Here,

swallow a booster of your own.”

He had lost all but a rag of hope himself. The centrum was at the far

side of the pattern, some ten kilometers hence. If robots were programed

actually to attack humans, this close to where the great computer had

been–We’ll explore a wee bit further, regardless. Why not?

A machine appeared. At first it was a glint on the horizon, metal

reflecting Mimirlight. Traveling fast across the plain, it gained shape

within minutes. Headed straight this way. And big! Flandry cursed. Half

dragging Djana, he made for a house-sized piece of meteoritic stone.

From its top, defense might be possible.

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