Homunk looked out the window. Outside was lonely countryside. In the distance rose a tall mountain chain: most likely the mountains at whose foothills the abandoned city lay. The ‘holy city’, as the aliens referred to it. As far as Homunk could tell, apparently the only city on the surface of this world.
They wanted to take him there. Why?
At the moment, the answer did not interest Homunk much. His first concern was to get together with Pucky again. The mousebeaver would be looking for him and as long as he was in captivity—or for that matter, simply in the custody of the robots—that was well-nigh impossible. The tunnels, he had found out, did not lead straight down the planet’s crust but ran along underneath the surface. Homunk was sure that he had to move around outside if he wanted to give Pucky the chance of finding him.
The 5 robots who accompanied him did not sleep. Their eyes were always open and they looked at him with a certain shyness which seemed to Homunk ever more weird. Past events had convinced him that he was dealing with very special robots. They had a mentality of their own, while in reality they should simply have been programmed. They believed, although robots should only be filled with straight data. They had feelings. As robots they were entirely abnormal and unpredictable.
Homunk felt his laser pistol still in his pocket. They had not disarmed him—also an entirely illogical way of behaving that was inconsistent with robot theory.
Homunk turned a little until he was sitting so that he could see the control panel of the car. His previous observations had told him that the energy conduits were hidden under the panelling. If this could be cut off, the vehicle must come to a standstill.
Carefully he drew his weapon and set it at peak performance. He took careful aim, so cautiously that none of his guards could guess his purpose. Then he pulled the trigger.
The blinding energy beam hit the control panel in the middle. There were a few small explosions, then the melted metal flowed onto the ground and immediately hardened again. Squealing, the emergency brakes took hold. The car’s speed slowed, then the vehicle came to a stop with a hard jolt.
Homunk did not stop to think. In one leap he was at the door, shoved it open and sprang outside. His feet touched the soft, natural ground. Even grass grew here. He thought for a moment. Should he paralyse the 5 robots? All in all, they had treated him well, and he had no reason to destroy them. At the same time, they must not follow him now.
The door—!
He pushed it shut and with lightning speed welded it to the side of the car. This way it would take some time before the robots could get free and pursue him.
Homunk had to smile as he set out for the distant mountains. The robots had to follow an android, not a human being—the most developed android there had ever been. His energy was inexhaustible. He could run without pause until he’d circled the entire planet if need be. The robots could do the same but never so fast as he.
Behind him the car with the feverishly active robots disappeared behind in a depression in the ground as he ran down to a flat valley. Far in front of him, Homunk saw the shimmering surface of a small lake that extended between him and the mountains. It did not count for an obstacle, however.
Besides grass there were low shrubs and a few trees. He avoided these and ran ahead mechanically. Since movement was no exertion for him, he used the time to think about his circumstances. It was more tragicomical than really dramatic.
Two different groups of robots were fighting over him. What role the aliens themselves took in this show was unclear. It seemed obvious, however, that they had split into two parties. The one wanted to kill him, the other regarded him as a valuable possession. It began to dawn on Homunk that he was a kind of key figure with which an ancient dispute would be settled. A dispute of a religious nature.
It sounded so far-fetched that Homunk began to despair of his rationality. Robots, thinking for themselves and yet receiving orders as positronic machines, had discovered religious problems and were trying to solve them. Why particularly he, Homunk, was playing a role in all this was not at all clear. With all his logic he could find no answer to the puzzle.
It he had thought less logically, he might perhaps have managed to figure it out.
He did not diminish his speed, even when he had waded through the lake along its bottom surface and had reached a forest. The trees were not very dense but lent him some protection against any pursuers. From above, visibility was good, but it was hardly likely that he could be discovered by an airship.
Gradually Homunk began to worry about Pucky. It was comforting to have the orders of the aliens say that the mousebeaver was not to be put to death, at least not right away. In any case, this particular order also advertised that Pucky was still alive and had escaped, just like Homunk. The only question was, how could they find each other again in a world that was as large as Earth.
Homunk tried once again to get into communication with Pucky through the communication equipment and, as he turned on ‘receiving’, he stopped in his tracks, bewildered.
All interference noises had disappeared.
There were rhythmic impulses but no interference sounds; they came too evenly and ordered for that. Probably they were command impulses of the aliens who were directing their robots in this way. Homunk tried to think why the solar interference was suddenly no longer effective and he came to the conclusion that only the planet’s atmosphere was responsible. The upper atmosphere must have ionized levels that reflected all interference impulses back into space. Radio communication was possible below these levels but not above them.
“Pucky! Let’s hear from you! Can you hear me? Turn on your receiver! Take my bearings, do you hear?”
Again and again Homunk spoke into his microphone, turned it off and turned on the receiver but the mousebeaver never replied. Either something had happened to him or he had given up too soon on radio communication. On the dayside, remembered Homunk, radio and communication had been impossible even below these reflecting layers. So the thing would function only at ‘night’, when the influence of the yellow sun, which was the nearest celestial body, became ineffective.
Radio communication only at night—that was something new. It was important that Pucky would catch onto it and would eventually reply.
Homunk did not give up trying. At regular intervals he signalled to the mousebeaver and gave him the chance to answer.
Then, when he turned around, he noted with surprise that he was being followed.
* * * *
The paralysis lessened. Pucky remained lying down and tried not to call attention to himself. Carefully he felt his pockets. They had taken his raygun. He was without a weapon. Now, he was not really dependent on the raygun; besides which, it would not take him long to get another one. The main thing was that they’d let him keep his radio equipment. In this world, it would be useless, but later it might come in handy.
Without moving his head, he looked around him. He realized, to his immeasurable fury, that they had simply laid him on the floor of the vehicle. He could see the legs of the robots sitting on the benches. In the background was the control panel; to one side, the door. Vibrations came from below the metal floor. The vehicle must be racing at top speed towards an unknown goal.
Pucky didn’t know whether he could turn on his TK powers or whether it was still too early to try. He could have tried out telepathy without much danger of being noticed. But simply to teleport himself away did not even enter his mind for that would have amounted to nothing but cowardly flight. And he would take flight only when something could be accomplished by it.
He held his eyes tight shut, after he’d concentrated on the control panel, groping towards the contact and steering points. He found thousands of them without grasping their meaning. He soon realized that it would be impossible for him to take over the remote-controlled vehicle. Even so, he now knew that he was regaining his strength and, with it, his abilities.
It was time to let the robots know it too.
There were 4 of them; he could count them by their legs. They all wore the deadly rayguns that, in other circumstances, could be used as welding tools. He had to be careful of these if he wanted to survive the next two minutes.