On the Planet of Robot Slaves by Harry Harrison

Author:Harry Harrison [Harrison, Harry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci-Fi, Humour
ISBN: 9780575046153
Google: spuVQgAACAAJ
Amazon: 0575046155
Publisher: Gollancz
Published: 1989-10-18T11:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Jonkarta was very suspicious of Bill's companion. He stood behind Meta, sword in one hand, his weapon in the other.

"Don't come any closer, hear!" he ordered. "This here rifle fires radium bullets that will go right through your tin friend."

Meta shied away from him. "Are you crazy or something? Radium? You must glow in the dark — and have the life expectancy of a gerbil!"

"Ah admit that the new radium bullets do glow in the dark — and explode in the dark as well. So beware! The old ones, fired at night, did not explode until the sun's rays struck them next day. But no more. Can you trust that creature?"

"It obeys orders — and that's enough. Now put that gun down. And stay as far away from us as possible."

"If this metal critter is to join the cause it must take an oath of allegiance..."

"Never!" Fighting Devil boomed out in a brazen voice. "Loyalty cannot be subdivided and I have sworn an oath in oil to golden Zots, my liege lord. But I will follow and I will obey instructions in order to keep my ward, this squishy one here, alive — so you are going to have to settle for that, bud."

"Ah'm not sure..."

"Well I am," Bill said, tired of the entire stupid argument. "And this thing is not human in any case, it's just a machine..."

"I am not just a machine'!" Fighting Devil grated.

"Hold it there!" Meta shouted, but no one was listening. "There's one way to settle this," she muttered, raised her weapon and shot all three of them.

The shouting ended at once. Bill and Jonkarta instantly fell to the ground, dragged down by the three gravities projected by the gun. Even Fighting Devil ground its gears helplessly. Meta sat on a fallen log and hummed to herself as she wove a circlet of wild flowers. As the charge wore off they began to stir and moan. She patted the flowers into place on her head, stood and stretched.

"Now that the argument is over — can we maybe get this war over with as well?"

"We march," Jonkarta ordered, pouting slightly at being put down by a mere woman. "You will find their encampment just one day's journey from here, at the edge of the long-dead city of Mercaptan. We will take up our positions in darkness. The battle will be joined at dawn."

"You're the boss," Meta said. "Lead on. And could I have another slug of that fermented thoat's milk, just for the road."

Jonkarta knew every path and trail in the jungle and on the mossy plain and went silently on little cat's feet. (He had killed the little cat and skinned it and used its feet to make soles for his moccasins. An old Barthroomian custom that brings good luck. But not to the cat.) Unknown dangers lurked here, but as soon as they made themselves known they were blasted by Fighting Devil who was now enjoying itself. Very quickly fragments of giant python, wolverine-possum, as well as bits of the hideous latke-eater, littered the ground.

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