He stepped back and stopped next to Homunk.
The android looked at Pucky with new respect.
“You’ve certainly come up with something original, little one. Rhodan would be amazed, if he knew.”
“Not so loud, maybe the Metalix can understand English.”
“Hardly. Tell me, is it true about the bomb?”
“Yes, it’s true. If the robots don’t behave themselves, there won’t be any planets in the centre of the Milky Way, only two suns revolving around an invisible central point. Finished!”
When Pucky said ‘finished’ he was serious. There was no argument that could have deflected him from his purpose.
A loud, deep voice sounded out. It was the same voice that 10 minutes before had announced the ‘demonstration’. But that didn’t mean much, for the artificial vocal chords of the robots all produced nearly the same sound.
“What is an Arkon bomb?” the voice asked.
Pucky looked at Homunk.
“If you can, explain it to them. I can’t. I only know what can be done with it, not more.”
Homunk said: “The Arkon bomb is the latest method of destruction of the humanoids. After detonation, it produces an atomic conflagration that cannot be put out for any element above the atomic number 10. The conversion stops only when the planet has no more of these elements left. As far as I can ascertain, the average order of elements in this world is around 50. There will never have been a brighter nova in the universe… if the bomb is detonated.” Homunk added a few technical details and concluded: “You don’t want to believe in the return of the gods but there is one thing, and in that you do believe, regardless to which of the 3 groups you belong: you believe in force and might. It is the only argument that counts with you. For that reason, we brought the bomb. Convince yourselves that it is in the exact spot that was described. And let the prisoners go immediately so that they can return to their ship.”
“The demonstration will be delayed,” was the reply.
Pucky cursed in fury.
“A fig-headed bunch, the Metalix. They need a lesson. Should I set off the bomb?” He held the black box aloft again. “Just a button to be pushed and…”
“Wait!” This time Homunk, just like Pucky, spoke in old Arkonidian dialect so that the robots could understand him. “We’re giving them their last chance.”
The lieutenant of the mineralogy section had been returned to the other 9 men. There could not be any talk of freeing the captives yet. Even so, for the moment, the danger of immediate execution was staved off.
The priest drew up to Homunk.
“We won’t have anything to do with it,” he said. “You are free to go. “Do you want the war to continue or do you want us to go back to the holy city?”
That was a bit surprising, even for Homunk. This sudden change of mood was a sign that the technical data regarding this bomb had been enough. But if one robot was convinced it existed, then all must be. As regards logical thought, they were all the same.
“That’s up to you,” Homunk replied.
Without looking at him again, the priest turned around and gave the leaders of the army his orders. In broad columns, the robots left the dome hall and gathered outside on the square. Only the 12 work robots stayed behind. They were undecided and simply waited.
Pucky looked at them disinterestedly. He, too, was waiting. For the decision of the Metalix.
It came a few minutes later.
“The demonstration is unnecessary since the dispute between us and the fanatics has been settled. No one believes in gods any more. You may leave our world.”
On the screen, it could be seen that Koster and his 9 companions had been freed. They went through a lane formed by two rows of thousands of robots and reached the spaceport. Without further delay they returned to the EX-238. Behind them the outer lock closed and seconds later the protective shield was re-activated.
One of the workers detached himself from the group and stopped in front of Homunk.
“You are going away?”
Homunk nodded. “Yes.”
“Even if the 10 men who look like our masters are really no robots?”
“Even then. Why should we stay here?”
“You know what will happen?”
“No. What will happen?”
The robot did not answer immediately. He seemed to be considering whether what he had intended to say would get him in trouble. Then, nevertheless, he decided to speak.
“The believers and the non-believers have been living on the surface of the planet. They were there when the masters were still with us, eventually withdrawing underground where they finally became isolated and died. The present conflict keeps the planned fleet of Silver Arrows from being built. For thousands of years we’ve been supplying the raw materials. They’ve been stockpiled and they’d be enough for 100,000 Silver Arrows. The equipment is ready. The ships only have to have a hull installed and that is quickly poured and done. It would be the most powerful fleet that has ever taken off from any planet and if we’d begin work tomorrow, it would be ready within a year.”
Homunk looked at the expressionless lenses of the speaker. “There aren’t enough robots to man so many ships,” he said.
“You’ve seen the work shops, the installations and the factories but you’ve never seen the underground warehouses. The crews for the attack fleet are ready. A push of a button would activate them. There are 10 million robots.”
Homunk was silent for a long minute. Beside him stood Pucky, silent and small, an unobtrusive figure. Yet, in his hand rested the black box. It made Pucky the key figure in what was now happening. With his help, the threatening attack on the universe could be averted.
Homunk had 60 seconds to imagine what would happen, when…
* * * *
The war on the central planet was at an end. At last the robots could think of turning their plans of thousands of years into a reality. Fifteen or 20 robot brains had unanimously assumed all power. They could command inexhaustible resources, for as man was made of dust, so the robots were made of the strong metals of the central planet. Millions or billions. Maybe even a trillion Silver Arrows.
The robot brains gave the order. Whether believers or non-believers or workers—everyone obeyed. The long-prepared work process would continue. The production would not be interrupted again. Every day thousands of ships would be built, 10 thousand new robots. The mightiest power that had ever been seen in the galaxy would be hammered out of the ground, piece by piece, and in every sense of the word—from an earth that would give up the purest of raw materials.
It took just a year, then the robot brains gave the order to start.
The weight of the central planet diminished noticeably as the fleet took off from it. The sky darkened. Only the work robots and the core personnel remained behind.
And the robot brains.
The fleet began with a search for those that could one day return to take up the rule, for those whom many took for gods but who were no more than normal mortal humanoids.
Their weapons were not as good nor as effective as those of the Terranians, not even so good as those of the Arkonides, the Akonides or the Springers. But the Silver Arrows were under a single command and they outnumbered everyone. They penetrated all outer fortifications, all space forts and all safety belts. They swarmed over the galaxy, bringing death and destruction.
The crews were not human beings, not even monsters. They were merciless robots, possessed by a single idea: they did not want to be servants any more. They were only afraid of the ‘gods’, of the humanoids, and therefore they wanted to exterminate them.
Homunk could see the afflicted world before him.
From the universe came the Silver Arrows, clouds of them, and plummeted down on the nearly defenceless planets that had no idea of any danger. The Federation had been broken up; the races lived isolated and only for themselves. There was no communal defence. The robots had an easy thing and they didn’t need more than a day for a planet.
They left behind them a burnt but glowing world that would support no life for thousands of years.
Then the next and the next…
Until the Silver Arrows found the Earth.
Here they found stronger defences, for Terra was armed. But even 10,000 transform cannons could not, in the long run, hold out against the millions of Silver Arrows. The first outposts of the defence were broken. A whole swarm of suicidal robot ships descended upon them, strafed the ground and left behind them nothing but a flaming sea of destruction.
It didn’t matter to the robots if they were destroyed in the process. Ten thousand or 100,000 Silver Arrows—what did it matter when a new fleet was being readied at the central planet…?