“Star,” I said, “what’s the nature of the argument we have with him?”
“You must kill him, milord.”
I looked back at him. “Can’t we negotiate a peaceful coexistence? Mutual inspection, cultural exchange, and so forth?”
She shook her head. “He’s not bright enough for that. He’s here to stop us from going down into the valley–and either he dies, or we die.”
I took a deep breath. “Princess, I’ve reached a decision. A man who always obeys the law is even stupider than one who breaks it every chance. This is no time to worry about that local Sullivan Act. I want the flame-thrower, a bazooka, a few grenades, and the heaviest gun in that armory. Can you show me how to dig them out?”
She poked at the fire. “My hero,” she said slowly, “I’m truly sorry–but it isn’t that simple. Did you notice, last night when we were smoking, that Rufo lighted our cigarettes from candles? Not using even so much as a pocket lighter?”
“Well . . . no. I didn’t give it any thought.”
“This rule against firearms and explosives is not a law such as you have back on Earth. It is more than that; it is impossible to use such things here. Else such things would be used against us.”
“You mean they won t work?”
“They will not work. Perhaps ‘hexed’ is the word.”
“Star. Look at me. Maybe you believe in hexes. I don’t. And I’ll give you seven to two that Tommy guns don’t, either. I intend to find out. Will you give me a hand in unpacking?”
For the first time she looked really upset. “Oh, milord, I beg of you not to!”
“Why not?”
“Even the attempt would be disastrous. Do you believe that I know more about the hazards and dangers–and laws–of this world than you do? Will you believe me when I say that I would not have you die, that in solemn truth my own life and safety depend on yours? Please!”
It is impossible not to believe Star when she lays it on the line. I said thoughtfully, “Maybe you’re right–or that character over there would be carrying a six-inch mortar as a side arm. Uh, Star, I’ve got a still better idea. Why don’t we high tail it back the way we came and homestead that spot where we caught the fish? In five years well have a nice little farm. In ten years, after the word gets around, we’ll have a nice little motel, too, with a free-form swimming pool and a putting green.”
She barely smiled. “Milord Oscar, there is no turning back.”
“Why not? I could find it with my eyes closed.”
“But they would find us. Not Igli but more like him would be sent to harry and kill us.”
I sighed again. “As you say. They claim motels off the main highway are a poor risk anyhow. There’s a battle-axe in that duffel. Maybe I can chop his feet off before he notices me.”
She shook her head again. I said, “What’s the matter now? Do I have to fight him with one foot in a bucket? I thought anything that cut or stabbed–anything I did with my own muscles–was okay?”
“It is okay, milord. But it won’t work.”
“Why not?”
“Igli can’t be killed. You see, he is not really alive. He is a construct, made invulnerable for this one purpose. Swords or knives or even axes will not cut him; they bounce off. I have seen it.”
“You mean he is a robot?”
“Not if you are thinking of gears and wheels and printed circuits. ‘Golem’ would be closer. The Igli is an imitation of life.” Star added, “Better than life in some ways, since there is no way–none that I know of–to kill him. But worse, too, as Igli isn’t very bright nor well balanced. He has conceit without judgment. Rufo is working on that now, warming him up for you, getting him so mad he can’t think straight.”
“He is? Gosh! I must be sure to thank Rufo for that. Thank him too much. I think. Well, Princess, what am I supposed to do now?”