Lucky Starr And The Rings Of Saturn
11. Bigman Against All
Bigman cried out piercingly, "Not one step nearer. Any closer and I'll have to shoot. You'll kill me."
He nerved himself for the possible shot. If nothing else could be done, it would have to be that
But the robots stopped. Not one moved. Bigman's eyes moved slowly to right and left. One robot was on the ground, headless, a useless lump of metal. One was standing, arms half reaching out toward him. One was a hundred feet away, caught in mid-stride.
Slowly Bigman turned. A robot was coming out of a building. It was caught on the threshold. Still others were farther off. It was as though a freezing blight had struck them all, struck them with instant paralysis.
He was not really surprised. It was the First Law. All else had to take second place: orders, their own existence, everything. They could not move if motion meant harm to a human being.
Bigman said, "Every robot but that one"-he pointed to the one facing him, the nearest, the companion of the one he had destroyed-"leave now. Back to your immediately previous task and forget me and what has just happened. Failure to obey at once will mean my death."
So all but one had to leave. This was dealing with them harshly, and Bigman, grim-faced, wondered if the potential being set up to drive the positrons might not be intense enough to harm the platinum-indium sponge that made up the delicate robotic brains.
He had the Earthman's distrust of robots and he rather hoped that was so.
All the robots but one were gone now. The muzzle of the needle gun was still against Bigman's temple.
He said to the remaining robot, "Take me back to your master." (He wanted to use a harsher term but what would a robot understand of the insult implied. With difficulty he forced it down.)
"Now," he said, "and quickly. Do not allow any master or robot to interfere with us on our way. I have this needle gun and shall use it on any master near us, or on myself if I have to."
The robot said hoarsely (the first signs of posi-tronic malfunction, Lucky had once told Bigman, showed up in the timbre of the voice), "I will follow orders. The master may be certain that I shall do nothing that will harm him or another master."
It turned and led the way into the diagravitic car. Bigman followed. He was half prepared for trickery on the way back, but there was none. A robot was a machine following inescapable rules of action. He had to remember that. Only human beings could lie and cheat.
When they stopped at Devoure's office, Bigman said, "I'll wait in the car. I won't leave. You go in and tell the master Devoure that the master Bigman is free and waiting for him." Bipman struggled with temptation and this time succumbed. He was too close to Devoure to resist successfully. He said, "Tell him he can take me on with needle gun or fists, I don't care which. Tell him that if he's too saffron-spined to do either, I'll come in and kick him from here to Mars."
Sten Devoure stared at the robot in disbelief, his dark face scowling and his angry eyes peering out from under hunched eyebrows.
"Do you mean he's out there free? And armed?"
He looked at the two Servicemen, who stared back with blank astonishment. (Lucky muttered "Great Galaxy!" under his breath. The irrepressible Bigman would rum everything-and lose his life as well.)
Serviceman Zayon rose heavily to his feet. "Well, Devoure, you don't expect the robot to be lying, do you?" He stepped across to the wall phone and punched the emergency combination. "If we have an Earthman on base, armed and determined, we had better take action."
"But how does he come to be armed?" Devoure had still not wiped away the traces of confusion, but now he made for the door. Lucky followed him, and the Sirian whirled at once. "Get back, Starr."
He turned to the robot. "Stay with this Earthman. He is not to leave this building under any circumstances."
And now he seemed to have come to a decision. He rushed from the room pulling out a heavy blaster as he did so. Zayon and Yonge hesitated, cast a quick look at Lucky, then at the robot, made their own decision, and followed Devoure.
The area before Devoure's offices was wide and bathed in the artificial light that reproduced Sirius's faintly bluish tinge. Bigman stood alone in the center, and at a hundred yards' distance were five robots. Others were approaching from another direction.
"Come and get that," roared Devoure, gesturing to the nearer robots and pointing to Bigman.
"They won't come any closer," roared back Bigman. "If they make a move toward me I shall burn your heart out of your chest, and they know I'll do it. At least they can't take the chance I won't." He stood there easily, mockingly.
Devoure flushed and lifted his blaster.
Bigman said, "Now don't hurt yourself with that blaster. You're holding it a little close to your body."
His right elbow was resting in the palm of his left hand. His right fist squeezed gently as he spoke, and from the muzzle of the needle gun just protruding from between second and third fingers, a jet of deuterium pulsed out under the guidance of a momentarily established magnetic field. It took skill of the highest order to adjust the squeeze and thumb position correctly, but Bigman had that. No man in the system had more.
The muzzle tip of Devoure's blaster was a tiny white spark, and Devoure yelled his surprise and dropped it.
Bigman said, "I don't know who you other two cobbers are, but if either of you makes a move that looks like a blaster is at the end of it, you'll never finish that move."
All froze. Yonge finally said carefully, "How do you come to be armed?"
"A robot," said Bigman, "is no smarter than the cobber who runs him. The robots who searched me on the ship and out here were instructed by someone who didn't know a Martian uses his boots for more than something to put his legs into."
"And how did you break away from the robots?"
Bigman said coolly, "I had to destroy one."
"You destroyed a robot?" A kind of electric horror stunned the three Sirians.
Bigman felt increasing tension. He did not concern himself with the robots standing about, but at any moment another human Sirian might appear and shoot him in the back from a safe distance.
The spot between his shoulders prickled as he waited for the shot. Well, it would be a flash. He would never feel it. And after that they would have lost their hold on Lucky and, dead or not, Bigman would be the winner.
Only, he wanted a chance at Devoure first, at that soft Sirian cobber who had sat across the table from him and said things no man in the universe could say and be left standing.
Bigman said, "I could shoot you all. Shall we make an arrangement?"
"You won't shoot us," said Serviceman Yonge quietly. "A shooting would simply mean that an Earthman has opened hostilities on a Sirian planet. It could mean war."
"Besides," roared Devoure, "if you make any attack it will release the robots. They'll defend three humans rather than one. Throw down that needle gun and put yourself back in custody."
"All right, send the robots away, and I'll surrender to you."
"The robots will handle you," said Devoure. He made as though to turn nonchalantly toward the other Sirians. "My skin crawls at having to talk to this deformed humanoid."
Bigman's needle gun flashed at once, the small fire ball exploding a foot before Devoure's eyes. "Say something like that again and I'll blind you for good. If the robots make a move, all three of you get it before they reach us. It may mean war, but you three won't be here to see if it does. Order the robots away and I'll surrender to Devoure, if he can take me. I'll toss my needle gun to one of you other two and surrender."
Zayon said stiffly, "That sounds reasonable, Devoure."
Devoure was still rubbing his eyes. "Take his gun then. Go over there and take it."
"Wait," said Bigman, "don't move yet. I want your word of honor that I won't be shot down or given to the robots. Devoure has to take me."
"My word of honor to you?" exploded Devoure.
"To me. But not from you. The word of one of the other two. They're wearing the uniform of the Sirian Service and I'll take their word. If I give them the needle gun, will they stand by and let you, Devoure, come and take me with your bare hands?"
"You have my word," said Zayon.
"And mine," added Yonge.
Devoure said, "What is this? I have no intention of touching the creature."
"Afraid?" asked Bigman softly. "Am I too big for you, Devoure? You've called me names. Do you want to put your muscles where your cowardly mouth is? Here's my needle gun, Servicemen."
He tossed the gun suddenly in Zayon's direction. Zayon reached out a hand and caught it neatly.
Bigman waited. Now for death?
But Zayon put the needle gun in his pocket.
Devoure called out, "Robots!" and Zayon called out with equal vigor, "Leave us, robots!"
Zayon said to Devoure, "He has our word. You'll have to take him into custody yourself."
"Or do I come after you?" Bigman called out in shrill mockery.
Devoure snarled wordlessly and strode hastily toward Bigman. The small Martian waited, slightly crouched, then took a small side step to avoid the arm reaching out for him and uncoiled like a tightly wound spring.
His fist struck the other's face with the dull impact of a mallet hitting a head of cabbage, and Devoure staggered back, stumbling into a sitting position. He stared at Bigman in stunned amazement. His right cheek had reddened and a trickle of blood made its slow way out of the corner of his mouth. He put his finger to it, drew it away, and looked at the blood with an almost comical disbelief.
Yonge said, "The Earthman is taller than he looks."
Bigman said, "I'm not an Earthman, I'm a Martian...... Stand up, Devoure. Or are you too soft?
Can't you do anything without robots to help you? Do they wipe your mouth when you're done eating?"
Devoure yelled hoarsely and jumped to his feet but did not rush Bigman. He circled him instead, breathing hard, watching out of inflamed eyes.
Bigman wheeled also, watching that panting body, soft with good living and robot help, watching the unskillful arms and clumsy legs. The Sirian, Bigman was sure, had never fought fist to fist before.
Bigman stepped in again, caught the other's arm with a sure and sudden motion, and twisted. With a howl Devoure flipped and fell prone.
Bigman stepped back. "What's the matter? I'm not a he; I'm just an it. What's your trouble?"
Devoure looked up at the two Servicemen with something deadly hi his eyes. He rose to his knees and groaned as he put a hand to his side where it had hit the ground.
The two Sirians did not make any move to help him. They watched stolidly as Bigman cut him down again and then again.
Finally Zayon stepped forward. "Martian, you will hurt him seriously if you continue. Our agreement was to let Devoure take you with his bare hands, and actually I think you have what you really wanted when you made the agreement. That's all. Surrender quietly to me now or I'll have to use the needle gun."
But Devoure, panting noisily, gasped, "Get away. Get away, Zayon, It's too late for that. Step back, I say."
He called out in a high-pitched yell, "Robots! Come here!"
Zayon said, "He'll surrender to me."
"No surrender," said Devoure, Ms swollen face twitching with physical pain and intense fury. "No sur render. Too late for that... You, robot, the closest one-I don't care what your serial number is-you. Take it-take that thing." His voice rose to a scream as he pointed to Bigman. "Destroy it! Break it! Break each piece of it!"
Yonge shouted, "Devoure! Are you mad? A robot can't do a thing like that."
The robot remained standing. It did not move.
Devoure said, "You can't harm a human being, robot. I'm not asking you to do so. But this is not a human being."
The robot turned to look at Bigman.
Bigman shouted, "It won't believe that. You may consider me non-human, but a robot knows better."
Devoure said, "Look at it, robot. It talks and has a human shape, but so do you and you're no human. I can prove it's not human. Did you ever see a full-grown human so small? That proves it's not human. It's an animal and it is-it is harming me. You must destroy it."
"Run to Mamma Robot," yelled Bigman mockingly.
But the robot took the first step toward Bigman.
Yonge stepped forward and moved between the robot and Bigman. "I can't allow this, Devoure. A robot must not do such a thing, even if for no other reason than that the stress of potential involved will ruin it."
But Devoure said in a hoarse whisper, "I'm your superior. If you make one move to stop me, I'll have you out of the Service by tomorrow."
The habit of obedience was strong. Yonge fell back, but there was a look of intense distress and horror on his face.
The robot moved more quickly, and now Bigman fell back a cautious step. "I'm a human being," he said.
"It is not human," cried Devoure madly. "It is not human. Break every piece of it. Slowly."
A chill fell over Bigman and left his mouth dry. He had not counted on this. A quick death, yes, but this...
There was no room to retreat, and he was without the escape his needle gun afforded. There were other robots behind, and all were hearing the word that he was not human.
He nerved himself for the possible shot. If nothing else could be done, it would have to be that
But the robots stopped. Not one moved. Bigman's eyes moved slowly to right and left. One robot was on the ground, headless, a useless lump of metal. One was standing, arms half reaching out toward him. One was a hundred feet away, caught in mid-stride.
Slowly Bigman turned. A robot was coming out of a building. It was caught on the threshold. Still others were farther off. It was as though a freezing blight had struck them all, struck them with instant paralysis.
He was not really surprised. It was the First Law. All else had to take second place: orders, their own existence, everything. They could not move if motion meant harm to a human being.
Bigman said, "Every robot but that one"-he pointed to the one facing him, the nearest, the companion of the one he had destroyed-"leave now. Back to your immediately previous task and forget me and what has just happened. Failure to obey at once will mean my death."
So all but one had to leave. This was dealing with them harshly, and Bigman, grim-faced, wondered if the potential being set up to drive the positrons might not be intense enough to harm the platinum-indium sponge that made up the delicate robotic brains.
He had the Earthman's distrust of robots and he rather hoped that was so.
All the robots but one were gone now. The muzzle of the needle gun was still against Bigman's temple.
He said to the remaining robot, "Take me back to your master." (He wanted to use a harsher term but what would a robot understand of the insult implied. With difficulty he forced it down.)
"Now," he said, "and quickly. Do not allow any master or robot to interfere with us on our way. I have this needle gun and shall use it on any master near us, or on myself if I have to."
The robot said hoarsely (the first signs of posi-tronic malfunction, Lucky had once told Bigman, showed up in the timbre of the voice), "I will follow orders. The master may be certain that I shall do nothing that will harm him or another master."
It turned and led the way into the diagravitic car. Bigman followed. He was half prepared for trickery on the way back, but there was none. A robot was a machine following inescapable rules of action. He had to remember that. Only human beings could lie and cheat.
When they stopped at Devoure's office, Bigman said, "I'll wait in the car. I won't leave. You go in and tell the master Devoure that the master Bigman is free and waiting for him." Bipman struggled with temptation and this time succumbed. He was too close to Devoure to resist successfully. He said, "Tell him he can take me on with needle gun or fists, I don't care which. Tell him that if he's too saffron-spined to do either, I'll come in and kick him from here to Mars."
Sten Devoure stared at the robot in disbelief, his dark face scowling and his angry eyes peering out from under hunched eyebrows.
"Do you mean he's out there free? And armed?"
He looked at the two Servicemen, who stared back with blank astonishment. (Lucky muttered "Great Galaxy!" under his breath. The irrepressible Bigman would rum everything-and lose his life as well.)
Serviceman Zayon rose heavily to his feet. "Well, Devoure, you don't expect the robot to be lying, do you?" He stepped across to the wall phone and punched the emergency combination. "If we have an Earthman on base, armed and determined, we had better take action."
"But how does he come to be armed?" Devoure had still not wiped away the traces of confusion, but now he made for the door. Lucky followed him, and the Sirian whirled at once. "Get back, Starr."
He turned to the robot. "Stay with this Earthman. He is not to leave this building under any circumstances."
And now he seemed to have come to a decision. He rushed from the room pulling out a heavy blaster as he did so. Zayon and Yonge hesitated, cast a quick look at Lucky, then at the robot, made their own decision, and followed Devoure.
The area before Devoure's offices was wide and bathed in the artificial light that reproduced Sirius's faintly bluish tinge. Bigman stood alone in the center, and at a hundred yards' distance were five robots. Others were approaching from another direction.
"Come and get that," roared Devoure, gesturing to the nearer robots and pointing to Bigman.
"They won't come any closer," roared back Bigman. "If they make a move toward me I shall burn your heart out of your chest, and they know I'll do it. At least they can't take the chance I won't." He stood there easily, mockingly.
Devoure flushed and lifted his blaster.
Bigman said, "Now don't hurt yourself with that blaster. You're holding it a little close to your body."
His right elbow was resting in the palm of his left hand. His right fist squeezed gently as he spoke, and from the muzzle of the needle gun just protruding from between second and third fingers, a jet of deuterium pulsed out under the guidance of a momentarily established magnetic field. It took skill of the highest order to adjust the squeeze and thumb position correctly, but Bigman had that. No man in the system had more.
The muzzle tip of Devoure's blaster was a tiny white spark, and Devoure yelled his surprise and dropped it.
Bigman said, "I don't know who you other two cobbers are, but if either of you makes a move that looks like a blaster is at the end of it, you'll never finish that move."
All froze. Yonge finally said carefully, "How do you come to be armed?"
"A robot," said Bigman, "is no smarter than the cobber who runs him. The robots who searched me on the ship and out here were instructed by someone who didn't know a Martian uses his boots for more than something to put his legs into."
"And how did you break away from the robots?"
Bigman said coolly, "I had to destroy one."
"You destroyed a robot?" A kind of electric horror stunned the three Sirians.
Bigman felt increasing tension. He did not concern himself with the robots standing about, but at any moment another human Sirian might appear and shoot him in the back from a safe distance.
The spot between his shoulders prickled as he waited for the shot. Well, it would be a flash. He would never feel it. And after that they would have lost their hold on Lucky and, dead or not, Bigman would be the winner.
Only, he wanted a chance at Devoure first, at that soft Sirian cobber who had sat across the table from him and said things no man in the universe could say and be left standing.
Bigman said, "I could shoot you all. Shall we make an arrangement?"
"You won't shoot us," said Serviceman Yonge quietly. "A shooting would simply mean that an Earthman has opened hostilities on a Sirian planet. It could mean war."
"Besides," roared Devoure, "if you make any attack it will release the robots. They'll defend three humans rather than one. Throw down that needle gun and put yourself back in custody."
"All right, send the robots away, and I'll surrender to you."
"The robots will handle you," said Devoure. He made as though to turn nonchalantly toward the other Sirians. "My skin crawls at having to talk to this deformed humanoid."
Bigman's needle gun flashed at once, the small fire ball exploding a foot before Devoure's eyes. "Say something like that again and I'll blind you for good. If the robots make a move, all three of you get it before they reach us. It may mean war, but you three won't be here to see if it does. Order the robots away and I'll surrender to Devoure, if he can take me. I'll toss my needle gun to one of you other two and surrender."
Zayon said stiffly, "That sounds reasonable, Devoure."
Devoure was still rubbing his eyes. "Take his gun then. Go over there and take it."
"Wait," said Bigman, "don't move yet. I want your word of honor that I won't be shot down or given to the robots. Devoure has to take me."
"My word of honor to you?" exploded Devoure.
"To me. But not from you. The word of one of the other two. They're wearing the uniform of the Sirian Service and I'll take their word. If I give them the needle gun, will they stand by and let you, Devoure, come and take me with your bare hands?"
"You have my word," said Zayon.
"And mine," added Yonge.
Devoure said, "What is this? I have no intention of touching the creature."
"Afraid?" asked Bigman softly. "Am I too big for you, Devoure? You've called me names. Do you want to put your muscles where your cowardly mouth is? Here's my needle gun, Servicemen."
He tossed the gun suddenly in Zayon's direction. Zayon reached out a hand and caught it neatly.
Bigman waited. Now for death?
But Zayon put the needle gun in his pocket.
Devoure called out, "Robots!" and Zayon called out with equal vigor, "Leave us, robots!"
Zayon said to Devoure, "He has our word. You'll have to take him into custody yourself."
"Or do I come after you?" Bigman called out in shrill mockery.
Devoure snarled wordlessly and strode hastily toward Bigman. The small Martian waited, slightly crouched, then took a small side step to avoid the arm reaching out for him and uncoiled like a tightly wound spring.
His fist struck the other's face with the dull impact of a mallet hitting a head of cabbage, and Devoure staggered back, stumbling into a sitting position. He stared at Bigman in stunned amazement. His right cheek had reddened and a trickle of blood made its slow way out of the corner of his mouth. He put his finger to it, drew it away, and looked at the blood with an almost comical disbelief.
Yonge said, "The Earthman is taller than he looks."
Bigman said, "I'm not an Earthman, I'm a Martian...... Stand up, Devoure. Or are you too soft?
Can't you do anything without robots to help you? Do they wipe your mouth when you're done eating?"
Devoure yelled hoarsely and jumped to his feet but did not rush Bigman. He circled him instead, breathing hard, watching out of inflamed eyes.
Bigman wheeled also, watching that panting body, soft with good living and robot help, watching the unskillful arms and clumsy legs. The Sirian, Bigman was sure, had never fought fist to fist before.
Bigman stepped in again, caught the other's arm with a sure and sudden motion, and twisted. With a howl Devoure flipped and fell prone.
Bigman stepped back. "What's the matter? I'm not a he; I'm just an it. What's your trouble?"
Devoure looked up at the two Servicemen with something deadly hi his eyes. He rose to his knees and groaned as he put a hand to his side where it had hit the ground.
The two Sirians did not make any move to help him. They watched stolidly as Bigman cut him down again and then again.
Finally Zayon stepped forward. "Martian, you will hurt him seriously if you continue. Our agreement was to let Devoure take you with his bare hands, and actually I think you have what you really wanted when you made the agreement. That's all. Surrender quietly to me now or I'll have to use the needle gun."
But Devoure, panting noisily, gasped, "Get away. Get away, Zayon, It's too late for that. Step back, I say."
He called out in a high-pitched yell, "Robots! Come here!"
Zayon said, "He'll surrender to me."
"No surrender," said Devoure, Ms swollen face twitching with physical pain and intense fury. "No sur render. Too late for that... You, robot, the closest one-I don't care what your serial number is-you. Take it-take that thing." His voice rose to a scream as he pointed to Bigman. "Destroy it! Break it! Break each piece of it!"
Yonge shouted, "Devoure! Are you mad? A robot can't do a thing like that."
The robot remained standing. It did not move.
Devoure said, "You can't harm a human being, robot. I'm not asking you to do so. But this is not a human being."
The robot turned to look at Bigman.
Bigman shouted, "It won't believe that. You may consider me non-human, but a robot knows better."
Devoure said, "Look at it, robot. It talks and has a human shape, but so do you and you're no human. I can prove it's not human. Did you ever see a full-grown human so small? That proves it's not human. It's an animal and it is-it is harming me. You must destroy it."
"Run to Mamma Robot," yelled Bigman mockingly.
But the robot took the first step toward Bigman.
Yonge stepped forward and moved between the robot and Bigman. "I can't allow this, Devoure. A robot must not do such a thing, even if for no other reason than that the stress of potential involved will ruin it."
But Devoure said in a hoarse whisper, "I'm your superior. If you make one move to stop me, I'll have you out of the Service by tomorrow."
The habit of obedience was strong. Yonge fell back, but there was a look of intense distress and horror on his face.
The robot moved more quickly, and now Bigman fell back a cautious step. "I'm a human being," he said.
"It is not human," cried Devoure madly. "It is not human. Break every piece of it. Slowly."
A chill fell over Bigman and left his mouth dry. He had not counted on this. A quick death, yes, but this...
There was no room to retreat, and he was without the escape his needle gun afforded. There were other robots behind, and all were hearing the word that he was not human.
