Isaac Asimov - Caliban

It must be, he thought, an exceedingly old trick, and even a rather obvious one. But they would not know how to deal with a robot capable of trickery and deception, however simple that deception might be. They would underestimate him, he was sure of it. And that was knowledge he could use.

He made his way into the building and set about finding a way to escape.

THEIRS was the first car to respond, Tansaw knew that much. Still and all, it wasn’t going to do them any good. At least three other cars had been in better position to get in there first and fast. Mirta had flown well enough to beat two of them to the punch, but there was still Jakdall’s car, right on their nose. There was no way they could get past them to make the pinch. Burning hell, there he was! A devil-red robot running down the middle of the road. They had him! No, damnit, they didn’t. The robot turned suddenly and dove into an alley. Jakdall’s car popped open its airbrake louvers and landing gear, reversing thrust, pulling in for a speed landing. Mirta jinked their own nose higher to avoid a midair collision, the air thumping and roaring past as they hit Jakdall’s turbulence and rattled through it. That did it. No matter how good a pilot Mirta was, she was not going to be able to avoid overshooting. Damnation! They should have been expecting the red bastard to dodge away like that. Yes, a standard robot would not have attempted evasive action, but then a standard robot would not be running away from the police. They had all been warned in the briefing to expect “atypical behavior” from this robot. And now they were out of the game. No way they could get back in position before Jakdall and the other units closed in.

Tansaw suddenly realized that Mirta had not brought their nose back down. They were still headed up and out. Tansaw was about to say something about that when he was thrown forward against his seat restraints and the nose thrusters roared. His stomach turned to lead as Mirta slammed reverse thrust on and used the nose jets to force the car over on its tail, braking hard with the reversers as she skewed their nose up. The car’s structural members groaned and thrummed under the strain, and the danger alarm started to go off. Tansaw let out a gasp of air as Mirta cut the reversers and nose jets simultaneously. The car hung in free fall for a split heartbeat and then lurched forward as Mirta slammed them into forward acceleration again.

But still Mirta did not bring the car level. She forced the nose skyward, angling up more and more sharply until the car was all but standing on its tail. Tansaw grabbed the armrests of his chair and hung on for dear life. The nose angled up more and more until they were flat on their backs, and still she did not angle back. Burning devils, she was going for a full loop! Up and over now, the car arcing over, flying fully upside down for an endless moment.

Tansaw looked down through the overhead ports, and saw the land where the sky should have been, looked down at the gleaming cityscape spread out below, the dawning sun lighting up the east, its warm rays just catching the bases of the most westerly towers, civilian aircars scattering like a startled flock of birds as the sky-blue sheriff’s cars zeroed in on their quarry.

Then Mirta pointed the nose down and they arced over, straight down, diving for the ground, the normally silent aircar groaning with the strain, the air screaming past them as they dropped.

Down, down, down. Tansaw stole a quick glance at Mirta. She was grim-faced, determined, her jaw set, concentrating fiercely.

At the last possible moment she pulled up and hit the thrust reversers. They were back over Aurora Boulevard, a hundred meters south of where they had been when the robot had turned, still moving damn fast.

Mirta leveled them out and fired the nose jets again, fighting the car as it tried to flip over in flight. Suddenly the nose jets died and they were turning, arcing gracefully to a halt in the alley, not ten seconds behind Jakdall and his partner, hovering to a smooth halt in midair.

With a bump and thump, Mirta dropped their landing gear, cut power, and had them on the ground.

“Damn good flying, Mirta,” Tansaw said, wondering if Sheriff Kresh would see it that way, or throw her off the force as a menace to navigation. But one thing was for sure—if there ever came a debate over the wisdom of human-piloted sheriff’s cars, Tansaw could point to the ride he had just taken. No robot would ever have flown that way, never mind how urgent the need.

But this was no time for worrying over such matters, and his partner was clearly in no mood for small talk. Mirta, still grim and grey-faced, popped the hatch on her side of the car and was out on the ground before Tansaw even had his restraint straps off. He popped his own hatch and scrambled out, weapon drawn. Strange and terrifying thought, that he felt the need of a blaster going up against a robot.

Tansaw took some small satisfaction from realizing that Jakdall and his partner were blowing the last of their lead merely by taking their time disembarking, weighted down by hell’s own collection of equipment. Apparently Jakdall was determined to be prepared for not just anything, but everything. Guns, knives, body armor, inertial trackers, cutting tools, a half dozen gadgets Tansaw didn’t even recognize—Jakdall had everything but underwater gear strapped to himself. His partner, Sparfinch, was even more laden down, with a jumpy, nervous look in his eyes. The kid was drawn as tight as a cable under tension. Not for the first time, Tansaw thanked whatever luck it was that he had been paired with Mirta and not Sparfinch.

Jakdall grinned. He gave Tansaw and Mirta a mock salute. “Nice flying, kids, but there’s no prizes for second. We’re taking the lead on this. Come on, Spar. Let’s go fry a robot.”

“Orders are to capture,” Mirta said warningly.

“Oh, yeah, they sure are. But it might get a little too hot for that.” Jakdall laughed and winked. “Come on, Spar.” Without thought or question, he turned toward the torn-out, smashed-up door on the south side of the alley.

Jakdall gestured for Spar to head in while Jak covered him. Spar hesitated just in front of the door, his eyes rolling nervously. He drew his weapon and did a wholly needless tuck-and-roll dive into the building. The interior was open to plain view—there was no one in there. That robot wasn’t going to duck inside the first room it came to and hide. Jak made ready to follow his partner in when suddenly there was a muffled roar and thump from the interior.

“Got him!” Spar’s voice cried out. Jak, Tansaw, and Mirta rushed inside. Spar was standing over the burned-out hulk of a small, moss-colored robot. Jak took one look at it and let out a string of curses. “Damn you, Spar, that robot’s green! It’s just a building maintenance unit.”

“I can’t help it,” Spar said in an agitated voice. “I’m colorblind.”

“Ah, the hell with it. Come on, we’ll search through there.” Jak turned toward Tansaw. “You two coming?”

“No, you guys go ahead,” Tansaw said. “We’ll stand watch here and make sure he doesn’t double back.” Mirta turned and looked at him sharply, but Tansaw gestured for her to be quiet, out of Jak’s line of sight. Jak grinned hugely and laughed at them. “Brilliant plan, Tan. You always were good on the backup jobs. Come on, Spar.”

Mirta watched the two of them clump noisily out of the back room, headed toward the front of the building, then turned toward Tansaw, obviously seething. “Damnit, Meldor, do you have to let them steal our thunder when I practically bent the aircar in half getting us here? We should be hunting with them, not guarding some damn door!”

“Easy, Mirta. I just didn’t want us getting our heads blown off when Spar decides we’re robot-shaped. The rogue didn’t come through here. He just wanted us to think he did. Look at the room. The door’s smashed to pieces but everything in here is untouched. Let those two maniacs blunder around in here. My guess is that the robot is smarter than Jak is—though that’s not really saying too much about the robot.” He turned and stepped back out into the alley, Mirta right behind him. The alley was filled with cops by now, two or three of them heading in the smashed-down door even as Tansaw and Mirta came out. Tansaw crossed the alley and tried the other door. It swung open easily. With a glance at Mirta, Tansaw stepped inside. He knew, absolutely knew, that this was the way the robot had gone.