by Eando Binder
But I did not bellow the hopeless challenge.
My thoughts were curious, for such a moment. The bitter episode in the prison was still etched like acid in my metal brain. Champion of humanity? Of a humanity that had scorned me since creation, reviled me, called me Frankenstein? For them I should battle these formidable beings. These beings from another planet who might, for all I knew, respect me.
Yes, curious thoughts. Still, what was there to do? No matter how frightful the odds against me, I must fight.
I tensed to spring. The head alien, Mog again, was aiming a different weapon, larger and more deadly looking. He would try this more destructive force against the strangely-standing two. I did not bellow a challenge—and warning. I would have to leap with deadly, silent speed, in action swifter than their reflexes.
But Mog was hesitating, looking me over closely.
“Wait,” he grunted. “It’s the noseless one again—the strong one. Who are you? You displayed strength near to mine, in the arena. And now, you stood up against the paralysis-ray, as no human does.”
It clicked in his mind.
“You are not human,” he finished.
I tensed again. Knowing me for a robot, or at least a nonhuman, he would kill me the quicker.
Again he hesitated, pondering.
“While we were running up,” he mused, “we heard you shouting. You were quarreling with the humans. And one of the humans said something about you two coming to our dome only to join with us. Is it true?”
I thought a long, burning, wondering second.
Then I nodded.
I looked at Eve. Did she understand what went on in my mind in that eternal, blinding second? She did.
“Adam,” she gasped. “You’re deserting the human race?”
“Why not?” I snarled. “You saw a moment before how they turned against us.”
Mog was watching us narrowly, not quite certain of his own deductions. Finally he circled us, while his men kept us covered. He stood over the fallen Captain Taylor.
“Are those two of your human race?” he asked. “Are they your friends?”
Taylor could not speak, with a paralyzed throat. But the flash of hatred and denial in his eyes were answer enough.
“Come,” Mog said, looking at me as one strong being to another. “This is very, very interesting. I will take you to Chief Thorg.”
Chief Thorg received us in the Apex Room, where his short conference was already over.
Mog reported the jail-break incident, then eagerly told of his discovery.
“More than one intelligent race on this planet?” Chief Thorg said, surprised and thoughtful. “I thought myself you seemed somehow different. You are a race entirely different from the human?”
I nodded. I did not want him to know, for the time being, that we were robots, created by the human race, and owing it basic loyalty. Nor did I want him to know there were only two of us in existence.
“Race,” he had assumed. That is, a race of other biologic creatures. It fitted in with my new decision.
Eve read my thoughts, as she always does, with uncanny accuracy. If robots were presumably to have a place alongside the alien victors, Thorg must think we were a numerous and powerful group of people, without suspecting we were metallic robots.
The aliens, I knew, were realists. They would kill us off simply as dangerous rivals, if they had the chance. Therefore, an intimation of force would result in compromise.
But Eve shrank from me a little. She clutched my arm in appeal.
“We cannot desert the human race, Adam, even if they hate us. This is their world, and our world—”
“Nonsense, Eve,” I snapped. “There can be no truce between our species and humans. Ever.”
Eve gave up, and nodded.
“You’re right, Adam. We would be fools to hope to patch up things with the humans. If only humans had not resisted us with such blind, backward, superstitious stubbornness. They made our lives a bitter struggle against ignorance and stupidity.”
Thorg listened to our tete-a-tete with sharp interest.
“I take it the human race hates your race. They had tried to exterminate you? How many of you are there?”
“We are not as numerous as the humans,” l bluffed. “But we are far stronger, and hold our own easily. We have atomic-weapons. More than once we decided not to exterminate the humans, as we easily could have.”
“A little soft-hearted,” Thorg scoffed. But behind that was a deep respect for our avowed power. “You are scientific?”
I waved around.
“This dome is made of stable, polymerized chain-molecules, compressed together so that they touch, isn’t it? It is far stronger than porous metal. We have a weapon that can pierce it—vibration.”
Thorg started. The deductions had struck home. He was visibly impressed. By what I left unsaid, he could only assume that our “race” was able to resist humans—and the aliens too.
“Perhaps your people and mine can make a pact?” Thorg said cautiously. “Will you help us defeat the humans and enslave them?”
At that moment, I felt that the universe held its breath.
The decision was plain before me. When Captain Taylor and his men heard of this, they would surmise what went through my mind. Joining the aliens meant a complete reversal of loyalty. Champions of the human race we had been an hour before. Betrayers of the human race we would be now, if we accepted. The aliens were realistic-minded. They would give robots a place alongside them, on conquered earth, realizing our worth and special abilities. They would not label us Frankensteins.
Humans had rejected me and my coming race. These aliens wouldn’t. The decision was plain, and Taylor’s men would analyze in their minds why I made the one I did.
“What are your terms?” I asked.
“Complete and equal mastery over humans, along with us,” Chief Thorg answered. “Definite terms will be agreed upon later, according to what parts of this planet you control, and what help you give.”
“Good enough,” I agreed. “As emissaries of our race, we will come to terms. But first, tell us who you are, where you are from, and what your plans are.”
Thorg’s story was strange and impelling. Again I have no proof of it. It will ring falsely, fantastically, to your stunted human minds which still arrogantly believe that in all the mighty universe, only earth was given life, and only man was given intelligence.
Eve and I waited breathlessly to hear his story. Only days before, we had stepped out of the normal world and into this dome. With shock, we had laid eyes on the first alien beings ever to visit earth. Curiosity consumed us, as to their origin and history.
“With your great strength, you must be from a larger planet,” I said. “Such as Jupiter.”
Thorg shook his horned head. “We are from the star I think you call Sirius.”
Eve and I absorbed the wonder of that, beings from a star-sun’s planets lying 50,000,000,000,000—50 trillion—miles away.
“It is only logical that you are not from our own solar system,” I returned. “Jupiter is frigidly cold, and probably has no breathable atmosphere. The other planets are likewise ill-adapted for life. It’s likely that of all suns with a family of planets, only one or two have the right conditions to support life.”
Thorg gave me a glance of respect for the deduction.
“Sound reasoning,” he said. “Our sun too has a family of planets—twelve. Only one supported life—our planet Korlo. Perhaps 25,000 of your earth years ago, our race achieved civilization and science. We passed through the Metal Age more than 10,000 years ago, the Atomic Age 5000 years ago. Now we are in the Subatomic Age, manipulating matter and energy at will.
“A hundred years ago we achieved spaceships, and colonized all our planets. Then, very recently, we cast our eyes out into the great void, swarming with stars. Our destiny lay out there, building an interstellar empire.”
I nodded to myself. Intelligence is restless.
It ever seeks new worlds to conquer.
“Nearest to Sirius lay this sun with a family of planets,” Thorg resumed. “Powerful telescopes resolved the satellites, and this expedition was launched.”
“Sirius is eight and one-half light years away,” I said. “How long did it take you to arrive?”
“Seventeen of your years,” Thorg informed. “Since we achieved half the speed of light.”
Seventeen years in space! Eve and I marveled not at the time, but at the speed. Building up a velocity of 93,000 miles a second was no small feat.
“This has all been a great adventure,” Thorg continued, his saturnine face lighting up. “Two other ships were previously dispatched to earth and were never heard from again. Either their engines failed in space, or they struck large, wandering meteors. This is the first ship to arrive. But now that the trail has been blazed, others will follow.”
He pointed to the great searchlight.
“This was built as a signal-light for our scouting aircraft, which we brought disassembled. But also for Ship Two to land near us. Two starships were sent on this expedition, a month apart, If one failed to arrive, the other might. But both won through without mishap. Ship Two is passing Pluto now. We will shine the light tonight. Ship Two will land beside the dome.”
“Only two ships were sent to conquer earth?” I asked dubiously. “The humans are many. It might take years to beat them into submission.”
“We realize it is not a small job, though assured for us,” Thorg returned. “No, not just two ships. Now that we have successfully arrived and scouted earth, plus additional earth data Ship Two will help us gather, the main forces for conquest of your world will follow in due time.”
He pointed toward the giant transmitter, which busy workmen were hurrying to completion.
“It will be finished tonight, too. Then a message will be hurled back to our home planet.”
“It will take eight and one-half years to arrive,” I pointed out.
“One hour,” Thorg contradicted. “This is our long-range radio. It will project impulses through the sub-ether, at almost an instantaneous rate. The message will reach Sirius in an hour, telling of our success. Then a waiting armada will be dispatched. A hundred more ships. With these reinforcements, we’ll conquer humanity overnight, when they arrive.”
It would not be for seventeen years. But in that time, these first arrivals would consolidate their position, and scout earth until they knew every city and gun and factory. When the time came for action it would be an overnight conquest.
“Good,” I said enthusiastically. “I see you have laid sound plans. I am glad to ally myself and my race with you of Sirius. You are making interstellar history. You are a great race. Bridging the void alone is a mighty achievement. The human race does not even have one starship, only a few manned experimental spacecraft.”
“Would you like to see ours?” Thorg said proudly. “Come, I’ll how it to you. But first—”
Without finishing the sentence, he led us to the prison room.
“We are realists,” Thorg said bluntly. “I need proof of your pledge to our case. Mog, bring out a human.”
Mog unlocked the prison door and pulled a man out by the arm. It was Captain Taylor.
“Kill him before my eyes, Adam Link,” Chief Thorg said.
I looked around. The tableau seemed to freeze. Thorg and Mog watched me narrowly, to see if I would kill the humans I avowed were my enemies. The men in the cage stared in frozen silence. Eve turned away a little. For all our new alliance, it would not be an easy thing to do.
Stonily, I strode to Captain Taylor. I placed my two hands around his neck, slowly squeezing. That would be best, strangulation. But I hesitated.
“Go ahead, Frankenstein,” Taylor taunted me, without flinching. “Surely the life of a mere man isn’t going to stand in your—”
I clipped off the bitter denunciation. I squeezed. Taylor’s face went purple. A moment later I dropped the limp body.
Chief Thorg clapped me on the back.
“You’re with us all right, Adam Link. Mog, throw the corpse back in prison, so that the humans can mourn over their leader. Come, Adam Link. I’ll show you our spaceship.”
When we arrived at the underground hangar, I did not tell Thorg that I had seen it once before. He might wonder why I had spied first, before joining him. I did not want our newly-formed alliance to be riddled with useless, unimportant suspicions. And that I had been the thankless champion of humanity.
Workmen were there, just starting to dismantle the ship.
“Since we contacted Ship Two,” Thorg explained, “we have no need for this ship, for emergency. We are getting rid of it. This underground chamber will be converted into barracks for the new arrivals.”
He conducted us through the ship, explaining its various features.
“The space trip was not easy,” he continued. “Acceleration for a year produced a terrible ache in our bones and organs. Then, coasting for fifteen years, we had little to do but think back and think ahead. One man went mad, and was exterminated. Then deceleration for a year again. Arriving on earth, we were half dead.
“But recuperation was quick, in earth’s light gravity. Our world is about Jupiter’s size. We are used to three times more gravity than this. We feel light as feathers here. And it makes us proportionately stronger, far stronger than humans.”
He was looking at me suddenly.
“You are strong, too, as Mog found out. Are you stronger than we are?”
“Perhaps a little,” I laughed. “Tell me more of the ship. It intrigues me. How does the engine operate?”
“Thought-control,” Thorg answered briefly. “As with our guns.”
I glanced at Eve ruefully. Before, looking at the intricate engine, we had wondered how it operated. We had not thought of the mental-control, though that was so obvious.
A group of workmen passed us, approaching the engine.
“Careful while you dismantle it,” Thorg warned them. “It has its own power-plant. Energy is still in the coils. Mog, you go and turn off all the switches first, so there won’t be any accidents.”
I glanced at Eve again. Power was still on, in the ship. If we had known that when first seeing it, and guessed at the thought-control, we might then have accomplished our original mission. But that was while we were still champions of humanity.
“I’ve wanted to ask you a question, Thorg—” I began, when a messenger came running from above. He thrust something in his chiefs hands.
“What is this?” Thorg asked. “You are from the dissection room. Why are you so excited?”
“These are X-ray prints,” the other Sirian gasped. “They show—”
He held them out mutely. The prints would speak for themselves.
I knew what they showed. They showed a seemingly human body, lying flat, all its insides revealed to the X-ray’s penetrative eye. They showed wires, wheels and cogs.
I tensed as Thorg began looking them over. What would his reaction be, knowing us at last for robots? Beings more alien to him than even humans?
“My question is this, Thorg,” I went on imperturbably, as though ignoring the interruption as something unimportant. “If you failed to send the long-range radio message back to Sirius, would the follow-up armada come anyway?”
“No,” Thorg said abstractly, looking over the prints with a puzzled eye. “Receiving no message, our people would assume we had been lost. Sending these ships is a costly proposition. They would give up coming to this sun at all then, and try some other star.”
“Thanks, Thorg,” I said. “That’s all I wanted to know.”
“What?” he said, still absorbed in studying the prints. Suddenly his eyes blinked, as the significance of the X-rays struck home. He looked up.
“You are a robot,” he accused. “A mechanical being.”
“Indubitably,” I agreed. I went on rapidly. “You wanted to know how strong I was before. I’ll show
you—now.”
My fist drove into his face, with all the power of a machine behind it. Thorg’s giant form toppled over backward, turning three somersaults, his horns and hooves alternately clacking on the floor.
“The engine. Eve,” l yelled. “Before they touch it.”
Mog and his workmen had turned at the swift, bewildering attack on their chief. There were twenty of them. Twenty of the towering giant monsters between us and the engine. They stood only a moment, as Eve and I bore down on them like express trains. Then they jerked out their guns.
The paralysis-rays went through us harmlessly. They had forgotten. But now Mog, aware of their uselessness, had drawn his other weapon. It was the one unknown factor left. Would it blast, like their cannon, blowing even metal to atoms?
“If he gets one of us, Eve,” I told her swiftly without slackening pace, “the other goes on. You know what to do—”
Eve nodded.
Mog fired. The electrical bolt leaped to my body, with an impact that made me stumble. But it did no more than knock I plastic off and scorch the metal. It was a hand-weapon designed to blast human flesh, or Sirian flesh, but not hard metal.
Mog stared in disbelief, as I came on unharmed. Then he fired again and again, blindly, at both of us. The other Sirians too. Bolt after bolt ripped into us. Our plastic burned and melted away.
One shot tore away my artificial ears and lips and hair-wig. My true metal face shone forth.
It takes long to tell this. But it was only seconds while we leaped toward them in great bounds. I try to imagine at times how profoundly astonished the Sirians must have been. Two seeming humans coming at them, changing under the blasts of two gleaming, powerful monsters of metal.
“Robots,” one of the Sirians screeched. “Intelligent machines—”
Then I was among them.
I cracked the first one on the skull so hard he sank without a groan, dead. I snapped the second one’s neck with one sledgehammer rabbit punch. I grabbed two necks, and cracked their heads together, flinging the limp bodies aside. Giants they were, half again taller than I was, but I pulled them down to my level for blows. Eve was beside me, punching with the rapidity of a rivet-hammer. And with all its horsepower.