Space For Hire (Seven For Space) (18 page)

Umani beckoned me over to a high deep shelf. "You won't be required to search for Esma. I've found her."

And he had. She'd been bound, with gags on her three mouths. We got her down and stripped off the gags.

"It was Kane," she gasped with her nearest head. "Two of his synthos did this to me. They said they'd be back to collect me later."

"If they try, all they'll collect is a .38 slug smack in the belly," I said.

"Excellent!" enthused Umani. "A superb expression of brute-male ego-strength. I'm sure Norman Mailer would have liked you."

"Let's discuss my brute-male ego-strength some other time," I snapped. "You hop to your test tubes, doc. There's no telling when Kane intends to set off his solar-busting operation."

"Oh, but there is," said Esma, untangling herself from the last of the nearcord ropes.

"There is what?"

"A way to tell when Kane intends to destroy the System."

"Spill it."

"I overheard one of his robots tell another that it would be strange living outside the System. And the second one said yes, it would, but he'd better get used to the idea because by stage 27 they'd be on their way."

I did some rapid calculation and sucked in a worried breath.

Umani squinted at me. "What's wrong, Mr. Space?"

"Stage 27 is how they number the days on Venus," I said. "Today is stage 26. Which means that by tomorrow, Venus time, the System is scheduled to blow."

"Then we're lost," declared Umani. "There's no time for me to complete my experiment."

"Maybe I can get to Venus and stop Kane," I said. "I could book a warper out tonight and be there by stage 26 and a half with luck."

"How would you find Kane? And how would you be able to stop him?" asked Umani.

"I'll find him all right. Kane's an easy man to trace. As for stopping him, I couldn't do it alone. Best I can do is divert him and buy you enough time." I put my hand on his shoulder. "Keep working. Round the clock. No sleep. No time out for food. Esma can feed you while you work."

"I'll do as you say," nodded the doc.

"We just might beat out Kane's timetable," I said. "I'll try and stall him somehow. If you can neutralize his operation before he can set off his chain-reaction the System won't blow. It's a chance."

"But, Sam," Esma protested. "You'll never come out alive. Not this time."

"It's my gamble, sister," I told her. "Stay with Daddy. I've got a warper to catch."

* * *

The pot was coming to a boil. When I landed on Venus I didn't waste a second. Three vizcalls and I'd located Kane's Venusian hang-out — a plush playpalace deep in the jungles of Sazz at the western edge of Lake Desire.

Sazz was off-limits to tourists, an ancient hunting ground sacred to the Venusian people. Lake Desire was reserved for gleeking. Gleeks provided food and clothing for the natives of Sazz the way the buffalo did for the Plains Indian way back when. Gleeks were immense furry wingfish living in Lake Desire's natural-gas environment. They looked terrible yet tasted fine.

I got my official permission to go inland at government headquarters.

"You don't smell nearly as bad as most of your people," commented the clerk as he affixed an official seal and stamped my clearcard. He lowered a green tentapod in my direction, sniffing gently. Venusians have extremely sensitive smellers and I'd showered on the warper in order not to offend. They claim that Earth bodies give off an unpleasant scent and I was doing my best to avoid insulting the natives.

The clerk told me that it was a strange time of year to be visiting Lake Desire. I agreed, telling him that I'd traced a fugitive Capellan onion-smuggler into the jungles near the lake and had to capture him. It was my job, I said.

"Then may you have success and father many piggims," smiled the clerk.

That was the Venusian form of goodbye and I told him I hoped he'd father many piggims also. He wrinkled a fuchsia-tinted centipod at me in the traditional gesture of good luck and I stuck my tongue out at him as a sign of respect for his office.

Then I was free to go.

* * *

A jungle slicer took me into Sazz country and I switched to a personal jumpcart for the run into Lake Desire. They called it that because of the weirdly erotic effect it had on all males. When you flew over you got an erection. As simple as that. No matter what planet you were from as long as you had a penis it got erect over Lake Desire. One of nature's many quirks.

Just beyond the western tip of the lake I spotted Kane's playpalace buried in the thick jungle below me.

I cut along the edge of the lake, watching the giant gleeks glide through the gas like bats in a cave, trying to figure a way to land close enough to Kane's layout without being spotted.

The power-unit coughed and quit cold on my junper.

The figuring was over. I was heading down. Now.

Funny thing: here I was gliding into a death trap and the only thing I could think of was how I could lose my desire.

It was damned embarrassing, dropping out of the sky on my archenemy, Ronfoster Kane, with a full erection.

Luckily, Kane's layout was far enough inland from the erotic waters of Lake Desire to allow my lust to subside by the time I crash landed in his patio.

Ronfoster Kane was there to greet me, all seven feet of him, his jeweled teeth exposed in a smile of pure delight. He wore a floor-length tile and teak sliprobe and his steel hands were encased in unborn duck fur mittens. He bowed to me. "How fortunate that you should drop in, Mr. Space. I was loath to leave the System without personally attending to your torture and death."

"It's always nice to be welcome," I said.

The jumper was beat up plenty. A giant potted Venusian Mongoose bush had absorbed most of the impact. A Mongoose is the toughest domestic plant in the System. My right elbow was sore from the crash and I'd scraped a couple of knuckles. Otherwise I'd survived intact.

I wondered how long I'd stay that way.

More important yet: how much time could I buy for Umani?

"We might as well start your torture immediately," said Kane, consulting his wristcron. "I'm on a tight schedule."

He waved, and two burly synthos grabbed my arms. "Ouch!" I said."Easy on the elbow."

"But these are my two chief torturers," declared Kane. "It won't do you a whit of good to tell them not to hurt you. They are
designed
to hurt people."

"I've got some info you'd like to have," I said to Kane. "Let's talk."

"Our talk is done," said Kane. He turned to the robots. "Take him to the Chamber of Pain and give him the works."

"Wait a sec," I said — and palm-chopped one of the synthos while I knee-popped the other. They let me go. "Listen to me," I said as the two frustrated robots rushed back to have another go. "I bet you'd like to know how I managed to disappear so neatly last time when you thought you had me cooked."

I side-stepped the robots' charge and danced around the Mongoose plant. "Well — wouldn't you?"

Kane nodded, his all-black eyes flashing with curiosity. "As a matter of fact, I
would
like to know now that you bring up the matter."

"Okay," I said, hopping between rows of standing sweetnose plants. "But first, call off your synthos."

Kane waved them back. They took up wary positions near the patio door. "All right, Space. Be quick. Proper torturing takes time and I
do
want them to get at it. You just wouldn't believe my schedule."

I sat down on a spreading nutweed and rubbed my sore elbow. "Boy, this hurts."

"You have exactly one millisecond to begin or I turn you back over to my synthetics," snapped Kane. "How
did
you disappear?"

"Keep your mittens on," I said, "and I'll tell you. It has to do with my red-haired girlfriend, Nicole, and a solar agent's tranporter hats. She turned up with the trick hats and we used 'em to pop ourselves into another universe."

"How dull," sighed Kane. "I thought I might learn something of vital interest if I delayed your torture."

In a panic now, I tried another stall. "Don't you want to know how I found you? Or how I got here?"

"No, they can torture that kind of info out of you. I've no more time to waste. To talk is to dawdle."

Kane waved me into the grip of the two synthos. "Take him. Quickly!"

I sputtered, tried some more words on Kane. He wasn't listening.

They dragged me away.

The Chamber of Pain was down a long winding flight of damp stairs, suitably cobwebbed. All proper torture chambers are at the bottom of damp cobwebbed stairs and Kane had spared no expense with this one. It had iron maidens, toe-crusher boots, spiked gloves, glowing-hot headbands and a bone-stretching bodyrack which one of the torture boys told me was the latest model.

"It's self-adjusting," he said. "Powered entirely by atomic vibration, with a full year's parts-and-labor guarantee."

"Sounds like a fair deal," I said.

"It will handle any creature in the System, human or non-human, "said the second syntho. "We just set the dial and it does the job. Takes all the work out of bone-stretching."

"Your boss really does things in a big way," I said.

"He's no penny-pincher," said the first torturer, fitting an iron skull-thumper on my head.

"What's this?"

"We thought we'd start with a few sharp thumps to the skull," said the second torturer. "We just got this in and haven't had a chance to try it out yet. Do you mind?"

"Suit yourself," I shrugged. "Torture is torture."

"Oh, but that's not true at all," said the first syntho. "Torture can vary considerably. There's torture by water, by fire, by rawhide strips, by whip, by fist and by club — just to name a few basic types. Naturally, we prefer to use more inventive methods."

"Naturally," I said.

"This is going to be a good satisfactory session," said the second torturer, slapping his hands together. "I think we'll all get a lot out of it."

"I'm sure it'll be a kick in the head for me," I said. But they didn't get the joke. Synthos are singularly lacking in humor. Well, I didn't like getting thumped sharply on the skull. It gave me a hell of a headache.

I wondered what they'd use on me next.

"After a few more thumps we'll probably switch to a bone-crushing unit. Ever had your bones crushed into a fine white powder?"

"Not that I can recall," I said.

"You won't like it," said the torturer. "But it's colorful."

"For a couple of machines you bozos seem to take a lot of sadistic pleasure in your jobs."

"Oh, yes, indeed we do!" said the second syntho. "But that's how Kane designed us. We're just functioning according to design. If we giggle when we put you on the rack that's just normal with us."

They'd injected me with a no-will shot. Meaning I had absolutely no will to resist. I could feel pain — but the will to resist it was removed. I was docile and totally non-violent. The thought of having my bones ground into powder amused me. No terror or fear was involved.

"I don't like this new skull-thumper," said the first syntho as he removed it from my head. "Has no lasting pain potential."

"Agreed," said the second. "Let's get Space into the crusher unit. That's really a keen item."

They were strapping me into the unit when the door bounced open and Nicole popped in, a Webber-Standish .88 tribeam hacker in her right fist. She fired two bolts into my synthetic friends. Then she unstrapped me.

"Say," I remarked, "I thought you were relaxing in NewOld New Mexico."

"I was. But I got jaded. I needed action. Esma told me where you'd gone."

"How'd you get in?"

"Back way. I landed in the jungle — after an alarmingly erotic trip over the lake — and shot my way inside."

I nodded. "Ok. And thanks. Kane was getting ready to blow up the solar system. We'd better find out what's happening."

We stepped over the dead synthos and crept upstairs, looking for the Robot King. He was in the library, alone and unguarded.

I didn't get it.

"Kane, you should be surrounded by synthos. What's the idea?"

He laughed, his ruby and diamond molars flashing rainbow patterns on the library ceiling.

"He's not at all upset at our being here," said Nicole. "Sam, I don't like this."

"Would you like to ask me some questions?" said Kane.

"Yeah, one just came to mind," I said. "How come you're still on Venus? You've got to clear out of the System before you can blow it apart. Yet you're still here."

Kane folded his mittened hands. "I must be here and so must Nicole. We are the catalysts which will move the plan into its final phase."

Nicole looked stunned. "You mean, I'm
supposed
to be here? You knew I was coming to rescue Sam?"

"Of course," smiled Kane. "F. had to have us both here at this precise time and place in order to fuse our metal-like substances in a charge which sets off the chain reaction which starts each of the nine planets moving into final collision orbit."

I blinked dumbly at Kane. "But —
you're
F. — aren't you?"

"No, Mr. Space. But F. took great pains to make you believe I was." He opened his sliprobe and unzipped a section of his chestskin. Wires and tubes. "As you can now see, the Robot King is himself a robot."

I swung toward the girl. "And — Nicole …"

Kane nodded. "She too. There has never been a flesh-and-blood Nicole."

"I don't believe you," she screamed. "I'm human. I
know
I am!"

Kane grabbed the front of her servoblouse and ripped it away from her body. He dug steel hands into her flesh.

I watched, lacking the will to interfere.

Her chest revealed the truth. Wires and tubes.

Nicole fell back, sobbing. The tribeam hacker slipped from her fingers to the floor. I looked at it numbly.

Kane levered his tall body toward me. "Do you begin to see now, Mr. Space? F. brought us together here for the sole purpose of uniting certain metallic elements in our cunningly-fashioned robobodies. Once united, these elements will interact and set off the final phase."