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

‘So!’ Jasperodus responded wonderingly. ‘The charismatic Charrane! His presence puts a different complexion on things. He is, after all, the inspiration behind the Empire.’

‘What shall we do?’

‘Come with me.’

Arcturus followed Jasperodus out of the basilica. They crossed the plaza, still rubble-strewn from the fighting. A further clump of explosions, by the sound of it across the city, added to the events of the night. Minutes later they had arrived at the flying stables on the roof of the north wing.

‘I knew the story about Charrane was true when you mentioned the nuclear rocket,’ Jasperodus said. ‘There have been some developments in nuclear propulsion recently. At a flight testing station just outside the city I found this aircraft and so I flew it here.’

The plane stood in the open hidden by a canvas fence. It had a long, sleek, needle-nosed fuselage, delta wings, and rested on a tripod of tall legs like a bird. Its construction, as Jasperodus knew, was clever. The skin, of aluminium and titanium, could withstand intense heat and gained strength and lightness from an ingenious layered honeycomb structure.

He pulled down a section of the fuselage, forming a curved gridded ramp leading to the flight cabin. ‘Where are we going?’ asked Arcturus in mystification. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Getting out.’

The rebel stared at him disbelievingly. It was some moments before he found his voice.

‘You’re really going to do it! Quit! Desert us all just when the going gets tough – just when we need your leadership most!’ His face sagged, appalled.

‘Naïvety was ever the failing of idealists,’ said Jasperodus casually. ‘Try to think clearly for once! Did you honestly imagine the revolt could succeed? Of course it couldn’t – not for one moment! It was easy to gain Tansiann, and we talked hopefully of the uprising spreading to other cities of the Empire. But it hasn’t.’

‘Perhaps because our initiative faltered.’

‘Perhaps. What difference would it have made? We have roused a rabble – no match for the trained troops of the Empire, I do assure you of that. Not that it would make any difference, either. The truth is that an empire of this type goes rotten at the centre while remaining relatively healthy at the periphery. There is still enough vigour in the outer provinces to make a rampage of the kind we have engineered here impossible. Besides, the people there are more aware of the threat of an external enemy, particularly in the northern provinces. That provides sufficient disincentive for any sympathy with rebellion. If it comes to that, I wonder how our own followers will react to the approach of Borgor armies, especially if preceded by a missile bombardment.’

Arcturus scowled. ‘Your motives are a mystery to me. Everything you say may well be true, but I am not made of the stuff of deserters.’ And he turned to go.

Jasperodus caught hold of him and pushed him to the ramp with a sardonic chuckle. ‘Don’t imagine I brought you here in order to save your skin. I need someone to man the evasion-and-defence board. The outer regions of the Empire are a veritable hedgehog of radar watches and ground-to-air missile sites. True, this plane is a new conception in attack aircraft, able to fly over hill and dale at a height of only hundreds of feet so as to escape radar detection, but we are going on a long journey and are still likely to be challenged. Get in the plane.’

Against Jasperodus’ superior strength Arcturus could do nothing. He stumbled into the darkened cabin. Jasperodus closed the door behind them. Small lights came on on the pilot board, providing the merest glimmering of illumination.

‘Better strap yourself in,’ Jasperodus growled, shoving Arcturus to his station, a seat behind and to one side of the pilot’s. ‘We’ll be flying at close to two thousand miles per hour.’

Arcturus stared hopelessly at the board. ‘I don’t know how to operate this.’

Jasperodus ignored him and prepared for take-off. In essence the new engine was simplicity itself: it was a nuclear ramjet. A compact, very hot reactor core heated indrawn air which was then vented through the exhaust to provide thrust. Jasperodus withdrew the damper rods, bringing the core to incandescence. Then he fired the cartridge that initiated the flow of air through the baffles. With a rising whine the ramjet began its self-perpetuating action. The aircraft rose vertically, supported through its centre of gravity by the single jet; as Jasperodus slowly swivelled the exhaust assembly, bringing it to the attitude for lateral flight, the plane described an accelerating curve that in short order sent it hurtling through the night.

A sense of familiarity came over Jasperodus. This was the second time he had seized power, subsequently to flee in an aircraft, both times in comparable circumstances.

‘Hah!’ he told himself again. ‘Repetition is a feature of this life, evidently.’

They left Tansiann far behind. Jasperodus set his course, then spent the next half-hour instructing Arcturus in his duties. The evasion board, being a prototype like the rest of the plane, was not complicated and he abbreviated the procedure further for his companion’s sake. All Arcturus had to do was note any radio challenges or prospective missile interceptions, press appropriate buttons or otherwise follow Jasperodus’ instructions. While not too enthusiastic a pupil, he learned the drill well enough.

‘And now perhaps I may know where we are bound,’ he grunted.

‘I may as well tell you of my plans. I intend to commit suicide, though the phrase is inapt since I have never been alive.’ Glancing round, he saw Arcturus’ startled look. ‘Don’t worry,’ he added with grim amusement. ‘You won’t be included in my self-destruction. I am obeying an urge to do one last thing before my demise: I am going home, to confront the people who made me. Perhaps I will berate them for their efforts.’ I wonder what they were thinking of, he told himself silently. Surely they must have known that this ludicrous self-image would soon rub up against reality. Or possibly they hoped I would stay with them, a doting surrogate son, and so never learn of my true condition.

‘I understand nothing of what you say,’ Arcturus said. ‘Why should you wish to destroy yourself?’

‘I am disillusioned with this living death, despite my various strivings over the years.’

‘At a guess you suffer from some slight brain malfunction,’ Arcturus volunteered uneasily. He grew curious and attempted to question Jasperodus on his origins, but the robot offered nothing further.

They journeyed in silence. After a while Jasperodus reduced speed to the subsonic range and brought the plane down to a height of only a few hundred feet, switching on the special radar set that enabled the autopilot to follow the contours of the landscape. Only once did a watching radar station pick them up; Arcturus reported a missile arcing towards them, but it hit a hillside when Jasperodus swung away from it and they were pursued no more.

Because they were travelling against the rotation of the planet the night was a long one and Arcturus eventually slept, neglecting his duties. In the early morning they flew over Gordona (out of danger from the Empire’s radar hedgehog now) and Jasperodus looked for the railway track that would lead him home. Then, after some circling and searching, he located what he thought was his parents’ cottage standing alone in the middle of a cultivated patch.

He extended the air flaps and undercarriage and swivelled the jet assembly. With the grace of a gull the plane alighted in a ploughed field, blowing up a cloud of dust. Jasperodus waited for the dust to settle, then lowered the ramp.