Chapter Ten
On Omega, so the saying went, you couldn't fit a knife blade between thetrial and the execution of the sentence. Barrent was taken at once to alarge, circular stone room in the basement of the Department of Justice.White arc lights glared down at him from a high, arched ceiling. Below,one section of wall had been cut away to provide a reviewing stand forspectators. The stands were almost filled when Barrent arrived, andhawkers were selling copies of the day's legal calendar.
For a few moments Barrent was alone on the stone floor. Then a panelslid away in one curved wall, and a small machine rolled out.
A loudspeaker set high in the reviewing stand announced, "Ladies andgentlemen, your attention please! You are about to witness Trial642-BG223, by Ordeal, between Citizen Will Barrent and GME 213. Takeyour seats, please. The contest will begin in a few minutes."
Barrent looked over his opponent. It was a glistening black machineshaped like a half-sphere, standing almost four feet high. It rolledrestlessly back and forth on small wheels. A pattern of red, green, andamber lights from recessed glass bulbs flashed across its smooth metalhide. It stirred in Barrent a vague memory of some creature from Earth'soceans.
"For the benefit of those who are visiting our gallery for the firsttime," the loudspeaker said, "a word of explanation is in order. Theprisoner, Will Barrent, has freely chosen the Trial by Ordeal. Theinstrument of justice, which in this instance is GME 213, is an exampleof the finest creative engineering which Omega has produced. Themachine, or Max, as its many friends and admirers call it, is a murderweapon of exemplary efficiency, able to utilize no less thantwenty-three killing modes, many of them extremely painful. For trialpurposes, it is set to operate upon a random principle. This means thatMax has no choice over the way in which it kills. The modes are selectedand abandoned by a random arrangement of twenty-three numbers, linked toan equally random time-selection of one to six seconds."
Max suddenly moved toward the center of the room, and Barrent backedaway from it.
"It is within the prisoner's power," the loudspeaker voice continued,"to disable the machine; in which case, the prisoner wins the contestand is set free with full rights and privileges of his station. Themethod of disabling varies from machine to machine. It is alwaystheoretically possible for a prisoner to win. Practically speaking, thishas happened on an average of 3.5 times out of a hundred."
Barrent looked up at the gallery of spectators. To judge by their dress,they were all men and women of status; high in the ranks of thePrivileged Classes.
Then he saw, sitting in a front row seat, the girl who had lent him hergun on his first day in Tetrahyde. She was as beautiful as he hadremembered her; but no hint of emotion touched her pale, oval face. Shestared at him with the frank and detached interest of someone watchingan unusual bug under a jar.
"Let the contest begin!" the loudspeaker announced.
Barrent had no more time to think about the girl, for the machine wasrolling toward him.
He circled warily away from it. Max extruded a single slender tentaclewith a white light winking in the end of it The machine rolled towardBarrent, backing him toward a wall.
Abruptly it stopped. Barrent heard the clank of gears. The tentacle waswithdrawn, and in its place appeared a jointed metal arm which ended ina knife-edge. Moving more quickly now, the machine cornered him againstthe wall. The arm flickered out, but Barrent managed to dodge it. Heheard the knife-edge scrape against stone. When the arm withdrew,Barrent had a chance to move again into the center of the room.
He knew that his only chance to disable the machine was during the pausewhen its selector changed it from one killing mode to another. But howdo you disable a smooth-surfaced turtle-backed machine?
Max came at him again, and now its metal hide glistened with a dullgreen substance which Barrent immediately recognized as Contact Poison.He broke into a spring, circling the room, trying to avoid the fataltouch.
The machine stopped. Neutralizer washed over its surface, clearing awaythe poison. Then the machine was coming toward him again, this time withno weapons visible, apparently intending to ram.
Barrent was badly winded. He dodged, and the machine dodged with him. Hewas standing against the wall, helpless, as the machine picked up speed.
It stopped, inches from him. Its selector clicked. Max was extrudingsome sort of a club.
This, Barrent thought, was an exercise in applied sadism. If it went onmuch longer, the machine would run him off his feet and kill him at itsleisure. Whatever he was going to do, he had better do it at once, whilehe still had the strength.
Even as he thought that, the machine swung a clubbed metal arm. Barrentcouldn't avoid the blow completely. The club struck his left shoulder,and he felt his arm go numb.
Max was selecting again. Barrent threw himself on its smooth, roundedback. At the very top he saw two tiny holes. Praying that they were airintake openings, Barrent plugged them with his fingers.
The machine stopped dead, and the audience roared. Barrent clung to thesmooth surface with his numbed arm, trying to keep his fingers in theholes. The pattern of lights on Max's surface changed from green throughamber to red. Its deep-throated buzz became a dull hum.
And then the machine extruded tubes as alternative intake holes.
Barrent tried to cover them with his body. But the machine, roaring intosudden life, swiveled rapidly and threw him off. Barrent rolled to hisfeet and moved back to the center of the arena.
The contest had lasted no more than five minutes, but Barrent wasexhausted. He forced himself to retreat from the machine, which wascoming at him now with a broad, gleaming hatchet.
As the hatchet-arm swung, Barrent threw himself _at_ it instead of away.He caught the arm in both hands and bent it back. Metal creaked, andBarrent thought he could hear the joint beginning to give way. If hecould break off the metal arm, he might disable the machine; at the veryleast, the arm would be a weapon....
Max suddenly went into reverse. Barrent tried to keep his grip on thearm, but it was yanked away. He fell on his face. The hatchet swung,gouging his shoulder.
Barrent rolled over and looked at the gallery. He was finished. He mightas well accept the machine's next attempt gracefully and have it overwith. The spectators were cheering, watching Max begin itstransformation into another killing mode.
And the girl was motioning to him.
Barrent stared, trying to make some sense out of it. She gestured at himto turn something over, turn it over and destroy.
He had no more time to watch. Dizzy from loss of blood, he staggered tohis feet and watched the machine charge. He didn't bother to see whatweapon it had extruded; his entire attention was concentrated on itswheels.
As it came at him, Barrent threw himself under the wheels.
The machine tried to brake and swerve, but not in time. The wheelsrolled onto Barrent's body, tilting the machine sharply upward. Barrentgrunted under the impact. With his back under the machine, he put hisremaining strength in an attempt to stand up.
For a moment the machine teetered, its wheels spinning wildly. Then itflipped over on its back. Barrent collapsed beside it.
When he could see again, the machine was still on its back. It wasextruding a set of arms to turn itself over.
Barrent threw himself on the machine's flat belly and hammered with hisfists. Nothing happened. He tried to pull off one of the wheels, andcouldn't. Max was propping itself up, preparing to turn over and resumethe contest.
The girl's motions caught Barrent's eye. She was making a pluckingmotion, repeatedly, insistently.
Only then Barrent saw a small fuse box near one of the wheels. He yankedoff the cover, losing most of a fingernail in the process, and removedthe fuse.
The machine expired gracefully.
Barrent fainted.
The Status Civilization Page 10