David Brin - The Practice Effect

Five minutes later he had a chance to witness the robot in action.

From the stairs he pointed pistol-like at the two guards standing watch outside Linnora’s room. The little machine had sped out into the hall, faster and more quietly than Dennis would have believed possible. The guards barely had time to turn before it scuttled up to them and touched each on the leg. They groaned in brief surprise and collapsed to the floor.

Dennis was just a little in awe of what the Earth machine was becoming.

While Linnora gathered a few things, he tied up the guards. Of course, someone was sure to notice they were missing. But he couldn’t just leave them in the hall.

“I’m ready,” Linnora announced. “I found a cloak that might fit you.” She handed him a thick, hooded garment of lustrous black material. He noted with approval that she had changed from her accustomed white into dark clothing.

“Also, this is yours, I believe. I hope I did it no harm looking at it. Its purpose is a mystery to me.”

“My wrist-comp!” Dennis cried out as he took it.

The Princess watched in amazement as he put it on his arm. She had never seen a crimp clasp before.

“So that is what those little straps were for!” she said.

“I’ll show you the rest of what the comp can do if we ever get out of here,” Dennis promised. “Now we’d better be going. If Arth isn’t still in his room in the tower, this is going to be an awfully short trip.”

When Arth heard thumping noises outside his room, he opened the door with a cudgel in his fist, ready for anything. But he grinned broadly when he saw the young woman and the wizard standing there, an unconscious guard slumped at their feet.

Arth just about reopened Dennis’s wounds, slapping him on the back. The normally quiet and taciturn thief could barely restrain himself.

“Dennizz! Come in! You too, Princess! Y’know, I figured you’d show up at some point. That’s why I stayed here even when Lord Hern promoted me to distillery manager. Come on in an’ have some brandy!”

Arth kicked the guard’s limp body aside to make room for Linnora to pass. Then the little thief stopped as he spied the robot whirring quietly behind them. He gulped. The glassy eyes stared back patiently.

“Uh, is that a fren’ of yours, Dennizz?” Arth spoke without taking his eyes away.

“Yes, it is, Arth.” Dennis ushered Linnora inside and pulled Arth along when the man lingered to stare.

Linnora was glad to get inside, away from the glint of bright lenses. Although she had watched the robot in action in the dark hallways, helping Dennis overcome two more pairs of guards on their way here, she still glanced at the machine nervously.

She had begun wondering what kind of man kept such strange familiars. Never before had she encountered anything that reeked so of both Pr’fett and essence as this “robot.” It felt like a thing… yet it moved and acted as if it were alive!

Dennis ordered the robot to keep watch outside and closed the door.

The room was a clutter of bits of wood and leather and cord—piles of lumber and rough cloth, and flimsy contraptions that would have done a kindergartner on Earth proud.

“Hey, Dennizz,” Arth said, pouring three cups of brandy from a brown bottle, “I’ve been tryin’ my hand at makin’, like you do! Can I show you some of my projects? I think I’ve figured out a real good way to trap mice, for instance.”

“Umm, I don’t think we have the time, Arth. The alarm should be out any time now.”

Linnora coughed. Her cheeks flushed and she stared at the cup in her hand. She sniffed at the liquor, then attempted another sip.

The thief nodded. “I suppose you’ll want to see the glider, then.”

Dennis had been afraid to ask. “You did it! I knew you could!”

“Aw, t’wasn’t no big thing.” Arth reddened. “Th’ slippery oil made it a snap. It’s over here under this pile of rubbish. They let out quite a fuss when they found it missing. But with the Baron out of action they never got a good search together.”

Dennis helped him pull the debris off Soon a neatly folded roll of silky fabric and slender wooden struts came into view. “It’s a good thing you made it up here tonight,” Arth mused critically, “Another couple of weeks an’ the thing would have lapsed back into being a kite. I guess you won’t have any trouble flyin’ it now, though.”

From your mouth to my ear, Dennis thought as he helped Arth carry the heavy, two-man glider out the doorway and up to the palace roof.

Dennis had to reassemble the thing almost by himself in the moonlight. The others tried to help, but Linnora was frightened by the great, flapping wings, and Arth kept making irrelevant suggestions and needlessly urging him to hurry.

The rising wind pulled at the fabric, frequently tugging it almost out of Dennis’s hands. He managed to get the glider’s wings extended and was searching for the locking mechanism when the alarm finally sounded below. It began in one corner of the castle, down near the bottom story, and spread until the night was filled with a chaos of bells, shouts, and running feet.

They must have found one of the sets of guards he and the robot had knocked out.

He found the latch at last. The cloth wings, which had been flapping in the stiff breeze, suddenly snapped taut with a loud report.

From two parapets below Dennis heard worried queries. Of course Arth’s guard failed to answer. Soon there were footsteps not far below.

“No time for experimentation,” he muttered. “Arth! Slip into the rear saddle to anchor it down!”

The big glider bucked and hopped until Arth had settled in. Even then it would not stay still. Dennis motioned for the robot to come. He knelt, still holding the edge of one flapping wing.

“Instructions!” he told the little automaton. “Go below and delay those who are approaching until we are gone. After that, attempt to survive and follow however you can. We’ll try to head west by southwest!”

The ’bot’s green acceptance light flashed. It swiveled and sped away, swiftly negotiating the plank ramp they had used to climb onto the roof.

Dennis heard booted footsteps on the stairwells below this level. They didn’t have much time.

Arth was in his place in the strap saddle, as Dennis had showed him. Arth looked completely confident. He had seen the “balloon” soaring through the night and knew now that Dennis could manage flying things. The distinction between a balloon and a glider was inconsequential to him.

“This is a two-man glider,” Dennis said, “but you two don’t weigh much more than one big man. Linnora can ride with Arth on the rear seat. All we have to do is make it out of town, anyway.”

But Linnora clutched her cloak around her, staring at the great flapping wings. She looked at Dennis, all her doubts brought back at once.

I don’t blame her, Dennis thought. She’s a savvy lady, but she’s not prepared for this.

All three of them could die in this attempt. Some might say that what Kremer had in store for her would be worse than death. But while one lived there was always a chance.

She held her klasmodion to her breast as the gusty wind tugged at the great kite, almost dragging Dennis and Arth along the roof. The glider was like a powerful bird, straining at a tether—eager to be airborne.

Suddenly there were thuds and dismayed shouts from the landing below. The robot was making its stand at the head of the stairs.

Dennis looked at the L’Toff Princess, and her eyes met his. He could tell she wanted to trust him. But this was all too sudden, too alien for her.

He couldn’t drag her along by force. But neither could he bring himself to leave her behind.