Android at Arms Read Free Page A

he saw that it was a servo. It passed them at a steady pace and came to the wall at the end of the room, where it flashed a beam code against what seemed solid surface. A panel opened.
    â€œSo far, so good.” Even Turpyn appeared to relax visibly. “But if we are going to eat, I would suggest that we get back to our rooms. That thing is programed to deliver the food there.” And he started for the ramp leading to the cell corridor.
    A little hesitantly the others followed. Tsiwon and Grasty first, the other three behind. As they started up, Yolyos made a small signal for caution.
    â€œHe knows more than he admits.” There was no need for the Salariki to indicate who “he” was. Suddenly Andas had an idea. What if their jailer now posed as one of them? What better way to conceal himself than to claim to be another prisoner?
    â€œHe might be one of them you think?”
    Yolyos again displayed his fangs. “An idea clever enough to be born from the mind of Yared himself! But not to be overlooked. I will not say that he is our enemy, but I would not hail him as cup-brother with any speed. We must discover the purpose for our being here, because only then can we bring our true enemies into the open. Think about that while you eat—”
    â€œNeed we eat apart?” Elys cut in quickly. “I confess freely to you, my lords, I have little liking for entering that room again, less for sitting there on my own. Can we not take the food when it comes and bring it to some common place?”
    â€œOf course!” Though he would not have mentioned it, Andas knew the same uneasiness. To enter that cell and wait gave him the feeling that once more the doors might lock.
    â€œYour room is between mine and the prince’s.” Yolyos fell in with her suggestion at once. “Let us collect our food and come to you.”
    Andas did not even go in his cell, but waited outside until the robot came rumbling down the corridor, pushed into the empty room, slid two covered containers and a lidded mug on the table, and went out. Then he collected all quickly and went to Elys’s cell, from the doorway of which the robot was just emerging.
    When he entered, she stood away from the wall. Andas pulled the upper covering from her bed and rolled it into a tight ball, which he pushed down to keep the door from closing automatically.
    â€œWell thought on.” As the prince got to his feet, the Salariki arrived with his own dishes.
    It was when they opened all the containers that they had a new surprise.
    â€œThis,” announced Yolyos, “cannot be prison food. Smalk legs stewed in sauce, roast guan—” He now flipped up the lid of the mug to sniff its contents. “Vormilk well aged, if I can believe my nose.”
    Since the Salariki sense of smell was famous, Andas thought he could. But he was bemused at his own supplies. This was food such as might reasonably have come from the first table at the Triple Towers, except it was not ceremoniously served on gold platters and he was not wearing a dining robe of state.
    â€œThey put us in cells, dress us so”—disdainfully Elys flicked the stuff of her coverall—“and then feed us richly. Why?”
    â€œFood of our own worlds, too.” Andas looked at the girl’s main platter. He did not recognize the round white balls resting on a mat of green resembling boiled leaves.
    â€œYes.” The Salariki raised a spoon to suck noisily at its contents. And the prince remembered that the aliens made a practice of eating with sound effects, so that the host might be sure of the enjoyment of his guests.
    Just another question to have answered, he thought. Then he fell to eating with full appetite.

2
    Whether their fellow prisoners had been moved to dine together, Andas did not know or care. But once his hunger was satisfied, he realized that their party seemed to have divided in two. He, Yolyos, and Elys—the