The Deep Dark Well (9 page)

The corridor widened,
opening into a long room.  Pandi’s breath caught as she saw the wide chasm that
stretched the length of the room, across her line of flight.  Stopping at the
edge, she looked down, into an infinity of drop.  The chasm was over twenty
meters in width.  No chance of jumping that, even at her best.  She turned
back, hoping to somehow find another way, just as the robot came into sight
along the corridor.  It moved smoothly and quickly toward her, radiating a
horrible menace in its unemotional approach. 

 
Only one hope
,
she thought, as she shifted the jet pack onto her shoulders and buckled in. 
Joysticks came to hand as she turned and sprinted toward the chasm.   She
pressed the fire buttons for a second as she leapt into the air.  The pack
flamed, and she whimpered as the heat burned her posterior.  No protection of a
spacesuit, but that couldn’t be helped.  Only a quick burst of thrust was
needed as she cleared the chasm, landing heavily on her feet to tumble into a
roll, absorbing the shock.

Pandi was back on her
feet in a moment, turning to see what the robot was up to.  It stood on the
other side of the chasm, its sensory bundle questing, one second looking into
the chasm, the next at her.  Pandi brought a fist up, middle finger extended in
a long understood symbol.  She wasn’t given much time to celebrate.

The robot settled down
as its legs retracted into the body.  A quadruple tentacle of blocks grew from
its front, moving swiftly across the chasm.  Pandi felt a scream building in
her chest.  Wasn’t there any way to stop this thing from coming after her?  
The tentacle touched her side.  She moved closer to get a good look at the
blocks that made up the creature.  Small flat claws grew from each open face. 
Obviously the means for the blocks to link into a complete creature.

When it had brought
enough of itself across the chasm, a matter of moments, it formed a secure
bridge.  The bulk of the robot began to slide forward, crossing the barrier
faster than Pandi would have imagined possible. 
Time to scoot
, she
thought, as she turned and ran down the one corridor leading away from the
chasm and the deadly robot. 

Again there were no
noticeable exits from the hall that bent this way and that through the mass of
the station.  There must be some kind of access beside the vent covers, too
small for her to think of squeezing through.  What use the corridor, if it led
to nowhere, with no rooms or connections along the way?  But if there were
doors they fitted too closely to the wall, and opening mechanisms were hidden
as well.

No choice but forward. 
She ran as fast as her legs could carry her.  Her breath rasped through her
burning lungs.  She had always prided herself for staying in shape.  But duty
as a Kuiper miner required a different kind of fitness from that needed to jog through
endless corridors under what seemed to be Earth normal gravity.

“Damn,” she gasped, as
the next barrier appeared before her. A twenty meter wide shaft, covering the
entire breadth of the corridor.  No corridor opened on the other side. 
Hurriedly she looked down.  It seemed to shrink into the nothingness of
perspective, a bottomless drop.  Looking up produced the same view.  Frantic
searching revealed openings on both upper and lower shafts, corridors opening
into what looked like a service access of some type.  Ladder rungs were set
into the walls, as well as single rungs for workers to attach safety harnesses.

The one question
remained.  Up or down?  The robot could follow her either way.  But it could
drop on her from above.  So up it was.  Her hands grasped the rungs on the left
side wall as she pulled herself onto the ladder.  Quickly she climbed upwards,
trying to put as much distance between herself and the robot as possible.  She
looked through the first opening she came to.  Ten by ten meters, with no
apparent exit except an endless corridor to nowhere.  No better than where she
had just come.

Up, one hand over the
other, faster and faster.  She heard a scraping sound below and looked down,
her heart beating even faster as she prepared for the worst.  The robot was
pulling itself into the shaft, forty meters below, extruding multiple arms to
grasp any purchase on the side of the wall.  It started up after her, faster
than she was climbing.  Panic started to build in her.  She reacted instantly,
her fear fueling her.  A forty-five pointed downwards at the robot, the boom of
its shot echoing deafeningly through the shaft.  Several cubes fell away and
the creature lost a handhold, but soon regained it.  Pandi continued to fire,
blasting fragments from the robot, until the pistol slide stuck in the open
position, empty.  She threw the useless gun at it with a cry as the robot
continued its climb. She pulled herself up the ladder ahead of it.

She was even with
another opening, another corridor to nowhere.  Her arms were aching with
fatigue and she knew her time was running out.  How to get rid of her pursuer? 
If it would just go ahead and fall the shaft might finish it off, and she would
be safe.  But it didn’t look like it was going to fall.

As the thought entered
her mind she swung her feet into the opening to her side, falling into the
corridor.  Hands flew to buckles and the jetpack was off in an instant.  A few
adjustments and the pack was set to do something most people didn’t know how to
make it do.  But Pandi had learned, in her more paranoid moments, how to make
use of all of her equipment to defend herself, if need be.

She pushed the engage
button on one joystick, then tossed the jet pack into the shaft.  Crawling
quickly along the floor she moved from the opening.  A shattering blast sounded
behind her as the flaming fuel of the jet pack shot up the shaft.  Heat washed
over her body for a second, then the flame was gone.

Crawling back to the
shaft she pulled her remaining pistol and looked cautiously over.  The robot
still hung from the wall, not moving, held in place by a trio of appendages. 
Burning fuel covered the creature and she would have sworn it was stunned.  She
sited carefully with the pistol, firing at the remaining appendages.  Cubes
blew away, until the robot was hanging down from a single arm.  Pandi aimed at
the arm, sweat beading on her forehead.  Her last round, it had to be true. 
She let out a bit of breath as she squeezed the trigger.  A hit, the cube
cracking open.  In seeming slow motion the robot started falling downwards. 
She watched as it fell, growing smaller as it dropped, until it was out of
sight.

Pandi rested for a
second, then pulled herself back into the shaft.  Pulling herself up she knew
that the shaft had to open onto a more promising area of the station.  She had
no more weapons, after all.  Something would have to be found, before she ran
into another of the robots.

*    *    *

Watcher laughed as he
watched the robot fall down the shaft.  He followed it till it hit the bottom
of the shaft, tens of kilometers below.  The robot shattered into individual
cubes, most of those destroyed by the impact. 

She was smart and
brave, this one
,
he thought, as the view shifted back to her.  If she could only stay out of
trouble for a few more hours his minions would get to her.  If they could get
there before
his
forces, she would be safe, an honored guest in his
realm.  He was looking forward to the meeting.

Chapter 5

The being we have designated
Watcher
continues to mature at an incredible rate.  He absorbs information like a
sponge, sitting in front of a half dozen monitors,
watching
everything
that comes.  How much can he absorb before he reaches his limit?  With an
endless life span, I am sure he will eventually discover his limit, if we do
not.

Notes From the Improved
Human Experiment.

“So what the hell
happened?” yelled Admiral Micas as he strode onto the bridge of the
Orca
. 
He did not like to be told of failure, his or anyone else’s.

“As far as we can
tell,” said Captain Valari Midas, his voice subdued, “the torpedoes
malfunctioned and went off course.  They exploded at closest approach to the
comet.”

“Not close enough to do
any damage?”

“No sir,” said the
captain, sweat beading on his face even in the cool of the command center.  “At
least a million klicks off course.”

“How in the hell could
they both malfunction?” yelled the admiral, his fist pounding on the nearby
weapons console. 

“It could only be due
to incompetence,” said the tall staff lieutenant who walked onto the bridge. 
The admiral looked at the man with distaste.  Always trying to get ahead, this
Lieutenant Senior Daris Mollara.  He had been about to say the same thing, and
didn’t like having his thunder stolen by a subordinate, even if that man was the
nephew of the Patriarch of the Nation, Nigel Disreali.

“You have proof of
this?” said the admiral coldly to the staff officer he had been burdened with.

“What other proof is
needed,” said the man with a sneer on his haughty face, “than the improbability
of two torpedoes malfunctioning at the same time.”

“They could have been
influenced by an outside force,” said the captain, his eyes flicking from face
to face. 
Scared
, thought the admiral, and he didn’t blame him.  Men had
been relieved of command for lesser breakdowns in the efficiency of their
crews.  The holy mission of the
Nation
's Navy was not something to be
taken lightly.

“And what might this
outside influence be?” asked Mollara.  “What could influence the flight of two
of the torpedoes developed by the people’s science?”  Mollara’s voice rose in a
good imitation of the Patriarch’s, accusing anyone who dared question the
perfection of the Patriarch’s plan, the divine mission of the church.

“Remember where we are,
Lieutenant Mollara,” cautioned the admiral, as the bridge crew tried to hide
its discomfort.  Mollara looked confused for a moment, as if trying to discern
the admiral’s intent.

“We do not know what we
will find when we get to the
Donut
,” said the captain.  “And who knows
how far its powers stretch.”

“Any way we can hit
them with another torpedo?” asked the admiral.

“No sir,” replied
Captain Midas.  “We are over half C, and anything we launch astern would have
to overcome our own velocity.  It would be dead in space before it built up
enough momentum to reach that target.”

“I want all stations on
level two alert,” ordered the admiral.  “Anything out of the ordinary is to be
reported to me.  Lieutenant Mollaris, you are to come with me.”

Both men saluted, the
captain snapping his heels in place, the staff officer falling in behind the
admiral as he headed out the door.

*    *    *

The door slid closed
behind Mollaris as he followed the admiral into the Task Force Commander’s
ready room.  The admiral sat stiffly in his chair as he looked at his officer,
not extending the courtesy of offering his subordinate a seat. 

“What the hell do you
think you were doing out there?” snapped the admiral.

“Sir,” said the officer
calmly, “I was merely pointing out…”

“You were merely
arguing with a superior officer in front of the bridge crew.  That sort of
behavior will not be tolerated in my command.”

“My uncle sent me on
this mission to make sure his wishes were adhered to,” said the haughty
officer, looking down his nose at the admiral.

“I am in command of this
task force, you whelp,” screamed Gerasi, smacking a hard palm on the surface of
his desk.  “You are under my command, and will obey my orders.  If your uncle
wishes to discuss my leadership of this mission, he may do so.  When we return
to the home systems.  Until then, you will conduct yourself like an officer in
the Holy Navy of the
Nation
.”

“Yes sir,” said the
officer, his hate filled eyes staring straight into the admiral’s.  “I
understand.”

“Dismissed,” hissed
Gerasi.  The lieutenant snapped a quick salute, then spun on his heel and
walked from the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

That one will always be
trouble
,
thought the admiral.  He had friends in the Council of Supreme Elders, as well
as being the nephew of the Patriarch.  But Gerasi had friends as well.  His
mother was a direct descendant of Benjamin Drefuss himself, the Prophet upon
which all the
Nation'
s beliefs were built.

Maybe the boy could be
steered toward the priesthood when the task force returned.  God knew his
attitude more suited that august body than the close-knit brotherhood of the
navy.

*    *    *

This looks promising
, thought Pandi, as she
looked into the small room she had found.  A lounge of some kind.  Comfortable
looking couches sat against the walls.  A cabinet with a sink occupied a
corner.  Paintings of haunting alien landscapes adorned the walls.  Thick
carpeting covered the floor.  All looked as if it had just come out of the
factory, though it had a feel of great age.