by Al Sevcik
its robots in wider and wider forays, slowly wiping every traceof life from the planet. Technologically advanced machines doing the jobfor which they were built, completely, thoroughly, without feeling, andwithout human masters to separate sense from futility. Finally partswould wear out, circuits would short, and one by one the killers wouldcrunch to a halt. A few birds would still fly then, but a unique animallife, rare in the universe, would exist no more. And the bones ofchildren, eager girls, and their men would also lie, beside a rustyhulk, beneath the alien sun.
"Peggy!"
As if in answer, a tree beside him breathed fire, then exploded. In thebrief flash of the blaster shot, Alan saw the steel glint of a robotonly a hundred yards away, much nearer than he had thought. "Thankheaven for trees!" He stepped back, felt his foot catch in something,clutched futilely at some leaves and fell heavily.
Pain danced up his leg as he grabbed his ankle. Quickly he felt thethrobbing flesh. "Damn the rotten luck, anyway!" He blinked the paintears from his eyes and looked up--into a robot's blaster, jutting outof the foliage, thirty yards away.
* * * * *
Instinctively, in one motion Alan grabbed his pocket blaster and fired.To his amazement the robot jerked back, its gun wobbled and started totilt away. Then, getting itself under control, it swung back again toface Alan. He fired again, and again the robot reacted. It seemedfamiliar somehow. Then he remembered the robot on the river bank,jiggling and swaying for seconds after each shot. "Of course!" He cursedhimself for missing the obvious. "The blaster static blanks out radiotransmission from the computer for a few seconds. They even do it tothemselves!"
Firing intermittently, he pulled himself upright and hobbled aheadthrough the bush. The robot shook spasmodically with each shot, its guntilted upward at an awkward angle.
Then, unexpectedly, Alan saw stars, real stars brilliant in the nightsky, and half dragging his swelling leg he stumbled out of the jungleinto the camp clearing. Ahead, across fifty yards of grass stood theheadquarters building, housing the robot-controlling computer. Stillfiring at short intervals he started across the clearing, gritting histeeth at every step.
Straining every muscle in spite of the agonizing pain, Alan forcedhimself to a limping run across the uneven ground, carefully avoidingthe insect hills that jutted up through the grass. From the corner ofhis eye he saw another of the robots standing shakily in the dark edgeof the jungle waiting, it seemed, for his small blaster to run dry.
"Be damned! You can't win now!" Alan yelled between blaster shots,almost irrational from the pain that ripped jaggedly through his leg.Then it happened. A few feet from the building's door his blaster quit.A click. A faint hiss when he frantically jerked the trigger again andagain, and the spent cells released themselves from the device, fallingin the grass at his feet. He dropped the useless gun.
"No!" He threw himself on the ground as a new robot suddenly appearedaround the edge of the building a few feet away, aimed, and fired. Airburned over Alan's back and ozone tingled in his nostrils.
Blinding itself for a few seconds with its own blaster static, the robotpaused momentarily, jiggling in place. In this instant, Alan jammed hishands into an insect hill and hurled the pile of dirt and insectsdirectly at the robot's antenna. In a flash, hundreds of the wingedthings erupted angrily from the hole in a swarming cloud, each part ofwhich was a speck of life transmitting mental energy to the robot'spickup devices.
Confused by the sudden dispersion of mind impulses, the robot firederratically as Alan crouched and raced painfully for the door. It firedagain, closer, as he fumbled with the lock release. Jagged bits ofplastic and stone ripped past him, torn loose by the blast.
Frantically, Alan slammed open the door as the robot, sensing himstrongly now, aimed point blank. He saw nothing, his mind thought ofnothing but the red-clad safety switch mounted beside the computer. Timestopped. There was nothing else in the world. He half-jumped, half-felltowards it, slowly, in tenths of seconds that seemed measured out inyears.
The universe went black.
Later. Brilliance pressed upon his eyes. Then pain returned, amulti-hurting thing that crawled through his body and dragged raggedtentacles across his brain. He moaned.
A voice spoke hollowly in the distance. "He's waking. Call his wife."
Alan opened his eyes in a white room; a white light hung over his head.Beside him, looking down with a rueful smile, stood a young man wearingspace medical insignia. "Yes," he acknowledged the question in Alan'seyes, "you hit the switch. That was three days ago. When you're up againwe'd all like to thank you."
Suddenly a sobbing-laughing green-eyed girl was pressed tightly againsthim. Neither of them spoke. They couldn't. There was too much to say.
THE END
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _Amazing Science Fiction Stories_ October 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.