Barrington Bayley - Barrington Bayley SF Gateway Omnibus - The Soul of the Robot, The Knights of the Limits, The Fall of Chronopolis

‘Good. Now tell me exactly where you are, and I will be with you directly.’

But before Chisel could answer there was the sound of an explosion and the vidset screen rippled and then went blank. Jasperodus observed that the overhead lines to the booth had been blown down by a mortar bomb.

More mortar bombs came whizzing down into the street from over the rooftops. Shrapnel rattled against his torso. Hoarse shout and screams mingled with the flat, brief blasts.

The bombardment finished. The survivors picked themselves up from the roadway. Arcturus cursed, examining his arm. The firefighters had fled, abandoning their equipment and several burning houses.

Jasperodus waved his arms. ‘Take cover!’ he growled. ‘Into the buildings!’

He helped carry still-living wounded into one of the deserted houses. They laid them down in a lushly carpeted drawing-room. One began to groan in an empty, uncomprehending tone.

Arcturus turned to Jasperodus from an inspection of the injured. ‘Two of these men need immediate medical attention. What do you think’s happening?’

Jasperodus shook his head. He went to the door and peered cautiously out. He saw men in imperial uniform passing the end of the street. The troops paused, as if checking the avenue for activity, then moved on.

As soon as all seemed quiet Jasperodus took a number of men on a reconnoitre. Keeping close to the sides of buildings, they passed through streets displaying only a few bewildered citizens who quickly disappeared at the sight of an armed force.

A burly figure came staggering towards them, a bottle clasped in one hand and a machine-gun in the other. It was the commander of one of Jasperodus’ battalions.

‘Any news?’ Jasperodus demanded of the besotted rebel.

‘Imperial troops are in the city. They moved in this morning from Axlea – only forty miles away.’

‘How many?’

‘At least four thousand, I’d say. They’re moving fast. They’ll be at the palace soon.’

‘And where are your men?’

‘I don’t know. Drunk. Whoring.’

Jasperodus grunted in disgust. The man was useless. At least, he thought, he could depend on the robots and slotmen.

He hadn’t known of the presence of troops in Axlea. Perhaps they had been quartered there en route for rest or retraining. Still, the situation was not irredeemable. He could contain it – if he could rouse his shabby army out of its stupor.

But what of Inwing? Jasperodus found himself in the grip of an unaccustomed anxiety.

‘We will move towards Subuh,’ he announced, ‘and gather up what we can on the way.’

At the first vidbooth they came to he put a call through to his headquarters in the enclave and ordered a search of the surrounding district for Inwing. He also called the vidbooth exchange to inform the operators of his whereabouts and of the direction he was heading in. Possibly Chisel would try to contact him again.

Barely half an hour later this hope was rewarded. The moronic robot trembled with the duress of too much responsibility as he stared out of the vidscreen.

‘Well?’ Jasperodus snapped. ‘Where are you? How are things with Inwing?’

‘We are in the north of Subuh, sir, in Monk’s Road. We have carried him as fast and as far as we could, but it has made no difference; he is still unconscious.’

Jasperodus became exasperated, both at Chisel’s peculiar reasoning and at his actions. If he and Bootmaker had been carrying Inwing openly through the streets all this time it was a miracle the assassins had not struck.

And as luck would have it a segment of the relief force from Axlea now lay between Jasperodus and North Subuh; the imperial troops had been attempting to carve up the city, cutting off borough from borough. Also, in heedlessly heading north Chisel had put the assassins between himself and South Subuh, thus depriving himself of possible help from that quarter.

‘Inwing is with you now?’ Jasperodus queried.

‘He lies in an alley, with Bootmaker standing over him.’

‘And you are armed?’

Chisel displayed a machine-gun. ‘I have this, and Bootmaker is similarly equipped.’

Jasperodus paused, then spoke slowly and deliberately. ‘Listen to me carefully, Chisel. This is the most important thing that has ever happened to you. An assassination squad is out to murder Major Inwing, and you alone are in a position to prevent it. Have you got that?’

‘Yes, sir, but I am scarcely capable of initiative! I do not have the brain to plan strategy!’

Jasperodus waved aside the robot’s complaints. ‘Even robots can make efforts. You must try your utmost; use what mental capacity you do have and think out ways to frustrate the killers. If you try even you, Chisel, can think . I am depending on you to do this thing.’

Chisel’s head trembled even more and his distress and exertion were almost palpable. ‘I am trying my hardest. We will not fail. I swear it! You can depend on it!’

‘Good. Now the first thing you must do is to get Inwing under cover. He is far too vulnerable out in the open. Find a room in a stout building. A small room with no windows and only one door, so that it can easily be defended against intruders. As soon as you have installed yourselves and Inwing into this room call me again through the central exchange.’

Chisel took in the instructions with great attentiveness. Suddenly he stiffened. ‘A man I recognise has just passed the booth. He is one of the assassins!’

‘Do not panic,’ Jasperodus warned. ‘If he is moving away from the location of Inwing, let him pass. If he is moving towards the alley…’

‘He moves towards the alley!’

‘Do not let him near Major Inwing!’ urged Jasperodus, agonised. ‘Kill him!’

Chisel turned and stumbled from the booth. Jasperodus’ screen went blank as the equipment switched itself off with his departure. He waited for some minutes but Chisel did not return.

He wondered if he had done enough to make the preservation of Inwing Chisel’s overriding goal.

Then he turned his attention to getting through the cordon that separated him from North Subuh.

‘This is no way to save the city,’ Arcturus grumbled. ‘What are we supposed to be doing?’

Jasperodus deliberated. He had gathered about a hundred men and they huddled in an archway hidden under a bridge carrying a railway track that led westward out of the city. They listened to the crackle of gunfire in the middle distance. Two men tinkered with a motorised vehicle captured by ambushing an imperial patrol.

‘I have a private mission,’ he confessed. ‘Possibly I could accomplish it alone. If you prefer you may take charge of operations until I return and conduct them as you see fit.’

Somewhat displeased by his attitude, but asking no questions, Arcturus agreed. ‘We will proceed towards the palace and try to organise matters in a somewhat more coordinated fashion,’ he said. Just then the robot carrying the field vidset again appeared, having attached it to a booth in the next street, and Chisel once more faced Jasperodus.

This time there was no head tremor and the cretinous robot’s voice was full of confidence. ‘Success, Jasperodus! Our goal is achieved! It is impossible for the assassins to kill Major Inwing now!’

A feeling of relief flooded Jasperodus. ‘You carried out my instructions?’

‘Indeed yes. A room with no window and only one door. Bootmaker is there this very minute. Many difficult decisions were involved in finding the room! Breaking down doors, arguing with tenants – furthermore, by vigorous application of intense mentation all conditions stipulated by you have been fulfilled…’

‘What is the address?’ Jasperodus interrupted.