Android at Arms Read Free

other two. He, also, was probably Terran, but there were certain subtle modifications of the original that hinted at planetary mutation.
    His hair was cut very short and looked almost as thick and plushy as that on the Salariki, but it was white, though not with age. In addition, he had a thick tuft of it jutting from the point of his chin. And his eyes were very curious indeed, showing no whites at all, only a wide disc expanse of silver. He spoke seldom and then only in monosyllables, nor had he made any other statement concerning his past than his name.
    But he was the first to speak now. “No one here—robot controlled.”
    â€œWe must get away,” broke in Elys eagerly. “Get away before someone comes to start the machines again.”
    Turpyn turned those cold discs of eyes upon her. “How? We are in desert country. There are no transports here. And we don’t even eat unless we can activate the food section again.”
    â€œAnd if an attempt to activate that starts everything—even the guards?” Andas demanded.
    Turpyn shrugged. “I don’t know if you can live without food. I know I can’t.”
    Andas realized that he himself was hungry. So Turpyn was right—they had to have food.
    Yolyos spoke first. “What chance have we of getting at the food supplies? I freely admit my people seldom deal with robotic equipment, and I am totally ignorant of the field. Have we an expert among us?”
    Tsiwon shook his head, and a moment later Grasty’s jowls wobbled in the same gesture. Elys spoke aloud.
    â€œMy people are of the sea. We do not use such off-world machines.”
    Andas was angry that he must also deny any useful knowledge. But when the Salariki looked to Turpyn, there was a faintly different expression on his face.
    â€œBut you, I believe, do know. Is that not true?”
    Andas wondered if the Salariki was purposely extending his finger claws as he asked that question, or if it was an unconscious reaction brought out by that hostility Andas, too, was sure lay beneath the surface of Turpyn’s attitude.
    â€œEnough—maybe—” The man turned and went to the far side of the room, being closely trailed by the rest. There was a control board there, and he walked along it slowly, now and then extending a hand as if to push some button or lever, but never quite completing that movement.
    Was he a tech, Andas wondered, an engineer of such standing as would make him equal in rank to the rest of their prisoner band? Yet he did not have the manner of the techs Andas knew. He had, rather, the self-confidence of a man well used to giving orders. But unless he was playing a part now, he was not very familiar with these controls.
    At length he appeared to make up his mind and returned along the wall installation, pausing only a second now and then to flip up a switch. When he reached the opposite end, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder at them.
    â€œThis is the test,” he said. “I will switch on to an alternate power source. That may or may not work. I hope I have turned off the guard robots—perhaps I haven’t. It’s stars across the board, risking all comets.” He reduced their chances to that of the galaxy-wide gambling game.
    Tsiwon put out one trembling hand as if in protest, but if that was what he had in mind, he thought better of it and said nothing. Grasty backed to one side, into a position from which he could better see both the board and the robots. The Salariki did not move. Andas felt Elys’s light touch on his arm, as if she thus sought some reassurance.
    Turpyn pulled a last switch. Lights went on. They blinked against the brightness. Andas thought that those lights were a concrete argument that this room must sometime be used by humans—robots did not need them.
    He was watching those robots with the same apprehension that held the others tense. Only one moved, and as it trundled doorward,