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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] and Subcommander Gobit. Danny struggled with his thoughts. "He's been awfully kind to me," he said finally. "I wouldn't tell him a thing," she declared. "But he might get angry, cut me off from the Tommies," he cried. "If he did, we wouldn't be able to talk to each other." "Couldn't you fool him, tell him harmless things?" "Not if he's in my mind at the time," he protested. "Even if I didn't tell him, he'd know. He'd hear the echo in my mind, the same way you heard me talking with Tommy One." "How could he cut us off?" "How?" He debated it. "I don't know." "Even if he did, I could still call you through the Tommies." "That's right," he answered excitedly. "Except that I wouldn't know when Zandro was there." "We'll figure a way," he promised. He felt suddenly uneasy, then became aware of the sense of presence. Zandro! He instinctively closed his mind, breaking the contact. The silence of nothingness rushed back. Now, remembering the conversation, he felt an elation that was greater than his fear. He wouldn't let Zandro stop him from talking to her. Never! Fiercely he made the vow. Besides, what could Zandro do? He was nothing. Nothing but a mind. Samul Smith was threading his aircar toward a landing atop the Space Administration Building when his visiphone beeped. He punched a button and watched Sol Houston's face come to life. The tight set of the mouth and jaw alerted him. "Get over to Medical Administration immediately," the Overlord barked peremptorily. "Contact Chief Medician Paulker." Samul swung his aircar into a new traffic pattern while asking, "What's the trouble?" "You wouldn't believe it if I told you, Samul." "The aliens," he murmured. "This might be the break we need." The Overlord's image abruptly faded from the screen. So they had come! Samul peered up into the pinkish-gray sky, pondering who "they" were. Whence had they come? An infinite Universe presented infinite possibilities; the prospects were not encouraging. He pushed the thought aside as the twin spires of Medical Administration rushed toward him. Chief Medician Paulker, the sector's foremost neurologist as well as administrator of its medical facilities, greeted him nervously. His usually saturnine face wore a puzzled, irritated expression. But there was also something akin to fear; Samul glimpsed it in his eyes. "What's the story?" he asked. "Follow me," Paulker instructed obliquely. He escorted Samul down a lift to the basement morgue and gestured toward a slab. Samul saw what appeared to be the body of a youth in the early teens. "So?" He glanced at Paulker. "It's not human." The medician's voice was strained and wondering. "Not human?" Samul suppressed a start, returning his eyes to the naked figure. Tall, slender, yellow-haired, it appeared human enough. The face held a rigid, stoic look, suggestive of deep introspection. "It's synthetic, a robot, an android -- call it what you will, but it's not human," Paulker repeated. "But it looks so human it scares you, right down to the last surface detail." Page 37 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html Samul asked softly, "How did it get here?" Paulker moistened his lips. "It was struck by a surface vehicle while illegally crossing a freight lane. The impact would have totally destroyed a human body, but as you can see..." "Android," he murmured. So that was what the alien ship had brought. "The skin, muscle tone, eye color, hair -- everything looks normal." The medician spoke professionally. "It appeared normal in every respect, right down to the breathing rate and heartbeat. It even possesses finger and retinal prints." "Is that possible...in an android?" "Scientifically unbelievable but true. It even has a name." "Which is?" "Tommy Six." Paulker's eyes grew puzzled. "It was still alive, or perhaps I should say functioning, on arrival. It gave that name in the receiving ward." "Did it give any other information?" "Nothing. It stopped functioning immediately afterward." "An android that speaks," Samul mused. "Did it have any identification?" "None whatever." "It had to live somewhere." "Did it?" Paulker grimaced. "Does a thing like that eat or sleep?" "Probably not," he agreed. "It was stoic, almost sullen, gave no indication of pain," the medician stated. "It was dressed in a space suit." "Oh, what kind?" "Like they wear in the Survey Service," Paulker explained. "It even had the star burst on the shoulder patch. Of course, that's not unusual. That was quite a fad among the younger set a few years ago." "I remember," he answered absently. For some reason his thoughts reverted to the Golden Ram and the boy named Danny June. The age appeared about right. But the Golden Ram hadn't been a survey ship. "Despite the impact, the outward damage was so slight that an autopsy was commenced to discover the cause of death," Paulker said. "That was when the medician discovered the nature of the, uh, thing." "What did he find?" "Well, nothing." "Nothing?" Samul raised an eyebrow. Paulker eyed him reluctantly. "When Garron -- he's the autopsy specialist -- discovered it was an automaton, he halted the proceeding immediately." "Why?" he demanded quizzically. "His license is limited to human practice." "In a situation like this?" he exploded. "Regulations," Paulker returned primly. He saw the ire in Samul's eyes and added hurriedly, "However, I've called in several top automation engineers. The work will proceed immediately." Samul asked coldly, "When will the records be available?" "Within a few hours, I hope. Of course, they will be tentative." "I'm speaking of the complete report." "The engineers undoubtedly will have to make lab tests, analyses of materials, hold consultations, things like that," Paulker replied. He drew himself up and stated more firmly, "After all, we are on alien ground. We don't know what factors might be encountered." "I realize that." Samul held his eyes. "I want the retinal pattern, fingerprints and photographs -- front, side, and back views." "Yes, certainly." "As soon as possible." "We can have those within the hour," Paulker promised. "I also want to know its potential, its capabilities. Did it exhibit human emotions? Could it feel, sense? We have to determine that." Page 38 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "I'm afraid an automation engineer..." "I know, there's a regulation against it," Samul cut in wearily, "but we need [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |