Mirror Friend, Mirror Foe

by Robert Asprin

  “Well, that about wraps it up. Glad to have you aboard, Hayama,” Harry Turner concluded. “Even though I don’t know how you got through to that pigheaded son of mine.”

  Hosato smiled. “It’s like the joke about the man training the mule,” he confided. “First I had to get his attention.”

  Turner laughed appreciatively. “Is that the secret. You know, you might teach me a thing or two in the process.”

  “I doubt it,” said Hosato, looking pointedly around the plush office. “You seem to be doing pretty well on what you know already.” The office was big enough to house three handball courts. Thick shag carpet covered the floor, and real paintings hung on the walls, each one spotlit by its own small lamp. Even the couch and easy chairs were of real wood and leather.

  “It’s a living,” Turner admitted modestly.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly do you do here, anyway?”

  “Mostly I don’t,” Harry boasted. “I let Sam here do all the real work.” He gestured to the huge mass of dials and screens that took up one whole wall of the office. “Sam coordinates and controls the design and production of one-fifth of the robots Mc. Crae markets.”

  Hosato raised his eyebrows appreciatively. “From what I hear, that’s a lot.”

  “You bet your broadsword it is.” Turner smiled. “We aren’t a nickel-and-dime outfit like Ravensteel.”

  “Speaking of Ravensteel, do you have much trouble with them?”

  “Not really. It’s more of a Mexican standoff. Why?”

  “Well, ever since I arrived here, I’ve been noticing the extensive security precautions. Heck, you can’t turn around without tripping over a guard. I notice Sam there has a voice lock on him.”

  Turner shrugged. “It’s something you learn to live with,” he said. “The reason we don’t have any trouble with Ravensteel is that we have security tight enough to strangle an inchworm. Otherwise the Ravensteel spies would be all over us. They haven’t had an original idea since the IR. AM split.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Hosato conceded.

  “As to Sam’s voice lock, that’s my own precaution. It’s more of a safeguard against office politics than against Ravensteel.”

  “Office politics?”

  “Be thankful you’re out of it, Hayama.” Turner grimaced. “Sometimes I think we spend more time spying on each other than on the opposition. The more the machines take over, the more time we have to bootlick and backstab over promotions. There’s nothing some of my fellow vice-presidents would like better than to steal my ideas or have advance information so they could do a little shotgunning at the planning sessions. I didn’t get where I am today by trusting people.”

  “That bad, huh?” Hosato commented sympathetically.

  There was no reply. He glanced at Turner, to find the vice-president studying him with a new suspicion.

  “Just to show you how paranoid someone in my position can get, Hayama,” he said. “It occurs to me you’ve got an awful lot of questions about security.”

  “Relax, Harry.” Hosato smiled. “The last thing I want to do is get people suspicious. That’s why I’m asking. I have a hunch ignorance would not be accepted as a valid excuse if I accidentally blundered into the wrong room or area.”

  “You’re right there,” Turner admitted. “As a member of my personal staff, you’ve pretty much got free run of the complex. Just stay out of the restricted areas.”

  “Where are they?”

  “You can’t miss 'em. There are warning signs and locks all over, not to mention the robots will automatically warn you off.”

  “Can you give me some specifics?”

  “Mostly the offices and the manufacturing areas. Sasha can give you a map if you ask her.”

  Hosato made a face. “I’d rather not,” he said. “I don’t think she likes me.”

  “Don’t take it personally, Hayama. The bitch doesn’t like anybody.”

  Hosato almost smiled at the similarity between Turner’s opinion of Sasha and Suzi’s.

  “How much authority does she have, anyway?” he asked.

  “Too much,” Turner said grimly. “She reports directly to the president. Between you and me, she could shoot anyone in this complex down in their tracks and not have to justify it to anybody but the board. Sweet, huh?”

  “Terrific,” Hosato responded with heartfelt sincerity.

  “Don’t let it scare you off.” Turner was suddenly conspiratorial. “We won’t have to put up with it much longer. She and her pack of goons will be out on their ears when… if my latest project idea works out.”

  Turner was suddenly guarded again. Hosato took the cue and didn’t push for details.

  “Well,” he said, heaving to his feet, “you’re busy, so I won’t take up any more of your time.”

  “Drop in anytime, Hayama.” Turner smiled.

  The smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  Hosato sneaked a second glance as he reached the door. Turner was still sitting at his desk-robot but was staring thoughtfully at the wall. Hosato guessed he was reviewing what he had said and wondering if he had said too much. Turner hadn’t said much, but he had said enough to set Hosato thinking.

  The first immediate effect of Turner’s comments was to change Hosato’s plans for the balance of the morning. Instead of returning to his apartment, he set out to explore the complex.

  If there was a security change in the wind, it might accelerate his plans. Even though theoretically machines were easier to fool, Hosato preferred to pit his abilities against human guards. Humans could be lulled by repetition of existing patterns, but a machine would check things as closely on its thousandth execution of routine as it did on its first.

  “Going my way, Hayama?”

  Sasha had materialized in the corridor behind him. Hosato felt the instinctive surge of distrust he experienced with anyone who moved quieter than he did.

  He shrugged. “Just looking for a bite of breakfast.”

  “Good. I’ll tag along and have a cup of coffee. Of course, just to keep it in the line of duty, I’ll have to ask you a few questions.”

  “Fine.” Hosato forced a note of cordiality into his voice.

  “Who made your robot?” she asked, falling in step with him.

  “Actually, it’s a custom job.”

  “I know that.” She smiled. “But whose work is it?”

  “I can’t recall his name just offhand. He’s dead now. I think it’s on the schematics somewhere, if you want to check.”

  “I’ve checked already,” she retorted. “Nobody recognizes the name, and we can’t find it in our computer files anywhere.”

  “I’ll try to remember some details,” Hosato promised. “Why. Is it important?”

  “Not really,” Sasha admitted. “I’m just reflexively suspicious of anything new and unusual. Goes with the job. But it’s awfully convenient, you and your robot turning up uninvited just when we need a coach.”

  “But is there anything specific that’s worrying you?” Hosato asked. “I didn’t think Suzi was that different from most simple robots.”

  “Yes and no,” Sasha commented thoughtfully. “It seems to be awfully large for the functions of the schematics. You could reduce its size drastically.”

  “Mechanically maybe,” Hosato commented. “But I think there’s one function you’re overlooking. One of my robot’s primary duties is to act as a fencing partner, performing simple moves against a student while I watch and criticize. The student needs a man-sized opponent to perform against, so a compact unit the size of a mailbox won’t do at all. Do you understand?”

  “I suppose,” Sasha said grudgingly. “But there’s still a lot of unused space there. Couldn’t you get by with less depth or maybe with a fold-out target panel?”

  “Maybe,” Hostao admitted. “But I’m not rich enough to experiment. I had this unit built and it works. That’s good enough for me.”

  “While you’re here, you might
see what some of our designer robots could come up with as an option. It couldn’t hurt to find out. Incidentally, why do you have it rigged so you can open only one door at a time?”

  “It’s a safety factor,” Hosato said easily. “Some of the weapons I carry have real points and edges. I don’t want them spilling out when—”

  A high-pitched beeping interrupted the conversation. Quick as a flash, Sasha palmed the communications unit off her belt, unreeled the ear plug, and fitted it to her ear in one easy motion.

  “Go ahead,” she barked into the mouthpiece. “Uh-huh no, seal the area double the force at points Echo and Fred have Ralph standing-by with gas just in case… I’m on my way.”

  She collapsed the unit and replaced it on her belt.

  “Guess we’ll have to take a rain check, Hayama. I still want to talk with you sometime, though.”

  “Trouble?” he asked politely.

  She shrugged. “Probably just routine. We average about two false alarms a week. Most likely some messenger robot’s decided to take a shortcut through a restricted area.”

  “A Mc. Crae robot?” Hosato murmured sarcastically, but he was talking to thin air. Sasha was already in full stride, heading off down the corridor.

  He watched the distance-eating length of her stride without the slightest appreciation of the movement of her feminine hips. It seemed Sasha and her team took their work very seriously if they reacted with that speed and intensity to a false alarm. Unless…

  Unless the whole thing had been carefully planned and executed just to impress him.

  Suzi was waiting when Hosato returned to his quarters. For a change, she followed him in stoic silence instead of immediately expressing her annoyance as soon as the door closed. One part of his mind registered this and breathed a silent note of thanks to the Hungarian. Whatever behavior recognition patterns had been built into the robot, they were definitely programmed correctly. He had a lot of heavy thinking to do and didn’t need a nagging assistant to distract him.

  The silence lasted as he made himself a pot of tea. Loading cup and pot onto the small end table, he kicked off his shoes and draped himself over the large reading chair.

  He spent several thoughtful moments sipping the tea and collecting his thoughts before he spoke.

  “Suzi, give me the layout prints of the complex.”

  The robot obediently swiveled around, and the viewscreen blinked to life, showing the line drawings of the buildings that made up the Mc. Crae complex.

  “Exclude the living quarters and mall and give me an enlargement on the rest.”

  The display changed according to his specifications.

  “Confirm corridors in Administrative Building lobby and Personnel areas Turner’s office subterranean tunnels to all buildings corridors in southern half of Household Manufacturing Building… also external lines on all buildings.”

  As he described the various areas, the designated lines on the drawing changed from blue to red. The data being displayed had been provided by Raven-54 steel and was quite detailed. Hosato’s plans called for believing none of it without confirmation. He was not prepared to risk his life relying on other people’s data. Refilling his cup, he studied the new display. There was still too much blue showing to make concrete plans.

  “Problems?” Suzi prodded gently.

  “Yeah,” he responded absently. “Problems.”

  “Want to talk it out?”

  Hosato thought for a few more moments, then shrugged. “Why not. I’m supposed to put this complex out of business for an indefinite period of time… the longer the better. The problem, of course, is how.”

  He rose and began to pace restlessly as he continued.

  “Right off the bat, we can forget about the living quarters and the mall. They exist independently of the complex proper, so hitting them wouldn’t slow production a bit. Similarly, the Administrative Building is safe. They don’t even store records there, it’s all terminal tie-in with the main computer banks. That leaves the manufacturing areas and the main computer-control building.”

  “If I might suggest,” interrupted Suzi, “the obvious weakness in the complex is the main computer-control building. All of the automated design and manufacturing functions are controlled from there, and if my understanding is correct, it also serves as storage for most or all of the corporation’s financial records, correspondence, and design programs. Sabotaging that unit would be certain to disrupt the functioning of Mc. Crae Enterprises perhaps permanently.”

  Hosato grimaced. “You’re right, Suzi. It’s obvious… too obvious. It’s apparently occurred to several people here at Mc. Crae that it’s their major vulnerability, because they’re guarding it damn close. Every corridor leading to that unit is loaded with sensors and live guards, both stationary and roaming. It would mean a major undertaking just to approach the unit, much less penetrate it.”

  “But you've—”

  “I’ve saved the best for last. The whole building is subterranean, just like our charts show. What the charts don’t show is that it’s completely sealed. The only ones who can get in are the technical-maintenance teams, and they haven’t set foot in the place for three years. It requires two keys turned simultaneously at different locations to spring the lock, and even if I could beat that, there’s another little problem. The unit is kept at planetary surface conditions… no pressurization, and minus three hundred degrees Fahrenheit. The controls to bring it to humanly bearble conditions are alarmed and guarded. That means I’d have to wear a full surface suit to survive inside, and it might make me a little conspicuous walking through the corridors.”

  There was a few moments’ silence; then Suzi changed her display to show an enlargement of the manufacturing areas.

  “Right,” said Hosato.

  He poured himself another cup of tea before he turned his attention to the new display.

  “That brings us to our current problem—the manufacturing areas.” Hosato spoke as much to himself as to Suzi. “The first problem is that we aren’t talking about one building, we’re talking about three. Mc. Crae has divided their operations into three product families: Household, Office, and Industrial. Every one of the product families has its own separate building, bless their paranoid little hearts. That means I have to gimmick three separate areas if I want to get paid.”

  “You keep talking about the manufacturing areas,” Suzi interrupted. “What about the mining and ore processing?”

  “No go,” Hosato proclaimed. “Same story as the computer areas—conditions unfit for human survival. The mining is done at planetary conditions, and the ore-processing area is hot enough to cook a human in a minute and a half.”

  “Do the humans here have any means of going out on the planet surface?”

  “They’ve got a few surface suits, and there’re a couple sand-crawler-type vehicles, but they’re unarmed and lack the power to do any real damage. Believe me, Suzi, it’s going to have to be the manufacturing areas. Unfortunately I don’t know what the interior layouts are or what kind of machines are operating in there. Until I know what I’m up against, I can’t settle on a plan for gimmicking it.”

  “What was the source of your information?” Suzi asked. “Some of it was not on the data tapes supplied by Ravensteel. How or from whom did you obtain it?”

  “From one of the maintenance crew, Rick Handel. He was in the bar grumbling about the firings, and I bought him a couple drinks.”

  “I thought you were picky about whom you drank with?”

  “I am, but this was business. Look, do you want to hear this or not?”

  “Sorry. You were saying…”

  “Right. It seems Mc. Crae has just dismissed a third of their maintenance staff, the crew that used to work the manufacturing area, and replaced them with robot repairmen. Handel ran down the list of the complex areas for me, complaining at great length about the problems involved in keeping them functional. That’s how I got the information.”


  “Would it be possible to persuade your newfound friend to take you on a walking tour of the manufacturing areas?”

  “Negative. I’ve already tried it, and it’s no go on two counts. First, the remaining maintenance crew is avoiding the manufacturing areas in quiet protest over the dismissals. Second, Security will let them into those areas only with a signed work order.”

  “Well, can you get the necessary information direct from Handel?”

  “I might be able to get a few details out of him, but not enough and not fast enough. I’m going to have to make an advance scouting trip of my own to get the data before time runs out.”

  “Your contract with Ravensteel contains no time requirement…”

  “Not Ravensteel’s requirements. Mine. I don’t know what Turner has up his sleeve, but I want to finish this mission before he has a chance to implement it.”

  “What bearing does Harry Turner have on events?”

  “Oh, something he said when I was talking to him” this morning. As near as I can tell, he’s working on a robot security system to replace human guards.”

  “Impossible!” Suzi stated flatly. “I would advise against letting Harry Turner’s mumblings influence your plans for this mission. The system he is describing is unworkable.”

  “But why can’t they replace humans in this specific situation?”

  “Because of Asimov’s First Law of Robotics. It’s included in the programming of every robot. We are unable to injure or kill a human. With that limitation, no robot could perform effectively as a guard.”

  “They could sound the alarm or detain the suspect.”

  “Sound the alarm for whom and detain the suspect for how long. Any human, given time, can escape from a robot. And as far as sounding the alarm goes, the sensor units already do that. If Harry Turner is trying to come up with a new robot security system, the individual robots in that system would have to be able to deal with emergency situations—not detect them, not delay them, but deal with them. As you know, the best way to deal with a renegade human is to kill or injure him before he can escape or counterattack… and machines can’t do that.”