A Circus of Hells by Poul Anderson. Part three

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

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