Han Solo And The Lost Legacy Part 6

"There's a gully leading up into the foothills," Han said, jerking his thumb. "How far are we from J'uoch's mining camp?"

"Straight up that way," Hasti told him, indicating the gully. "We can work our way along a few ridge lines and we'll be there. Or, we could go along the valley floors and washes." Han hefted the Kell rifle. "Let's move out now; we'll all go. I don't want to leave anybody behind in case we get a break and get the Falcon back; we can raise ship right away."

They started into the foothills, eyes darting nervously for any sign of ambush. Bollux, monitoring, picked up no evidence of sensors. The gully's floor had been sluiced by rains down to hard stone, scored and chewed as if heavy equip ment had pa.s.sed over it. They had seen no track or tread marks on the plain, but the resilient gra.s.s probably wouldn't have held them. Bollux reported that the automata-command signals were much stronger now. "They're repet.i.tive," the 'droid informed them, "as if someone is running the same test sequence over and over." The gully cut through the first two ridges and gave out on the next, the highest they had reached. The ground here was all rock, still showing signs of the pa.s.sage of what Han a.s.sumed to be machinery. That the Survivors had some special interest in J'uoch's camp was obvious; it remained to be seen if it had to do with the treasure. But uppermost in Han's mind was recovery of the Millennium Falcon. They topped the ridge, advancing at a low crawl, to look down into the valley below. Hasti gasped, as did Skynx with a sound like a subdued hiccup. Bollux gazed without comment, less surprised than the others. Han's and Chewbacca's mouths hung open, and Badure whispered, "By the Maker!" Now the fleet of cargo craft, the marks on the stone gully floor, the gist of the Survivors' ceremony-even the huge chamber in which they had been imprisoned-all made sense. Those monolithic stone slabs set deep in the mountain warren weren't tables, runways, or part.i.tions. They were benches. And below were gathered the occupants that sat on those benches, at least a thousand of the bulky war-robots built at the command of Xim the Despot. They stood immobile, broad and impa.s.sive, mightily armored-man-shaped battle machines half again Han's height. They gleamed with a mirror-bright finish designed to reflect laser weaponry. Survivors moved among them with testing equipment, running the checks Bollux had detected.

"These are the ones!" Skynx whispered gleefully. "The thousand guardians Xim set onboard the Queen of Ranroon to look after his treasure. I wonder how many trips it took to ferry them all out here? And what are they. here for? "

The only possible reason's over there, " replied Hasti, gesturing with her chin, raising up on her elbows. From their vantage point they could see Fuoch's mining camp, which straddled two sides of a great creva.s.se. The barracks, shops, and storage buildings were on one side, the kilometers-wide mining-operations site on the other, the two connected by a ma.s.sive trestle bridge left from old Dellaltian mining efforts. The camp seemed to be operating as usual, its heavy equipment tearing away at the ground. And on the side of the site, Han saw something that nearly made him whoop out loud. He pounded the Wookiee's shoulder, pointing. There, the Millennium Falcon sat on her triangle of landing gear. The starship seemed intact and operational. But she won't be, Han caught himself up short, if those, groundpounders of Xim's get at her. At that moment there was a flurry of activity among the Survivors below. Their testing sequences were done. They scurried out from among the irregularly placed robots and gathered at a gleaming golden podium that had been set up on one side of the valley. A transmission horn projected from the podium, which was adorned with Xim's death's-head emblem. The Survivor on the podium touched a control. Every war-robot on the valley floor straightened to alertness, squaring shoulders, coming to stiff, straddle-legged attention. Cranial turrets swung; optical pickups came to bear on the podium. The Survivor on the podium spoke.

"He's calling the Corps Commander forward, " Skynx explained in a muted voice.

"I know that man on the podium," Hasti whispered slowly. Then more quickly, "I recognize the white blaze in his hair. He's the a.s.sistant to the steward of the treasure vaults!" From the ma.s.sed robots stepped their leader, identical to the others in his corps but for a golden insignia glittering on his breastplate. His rigid, weighty tread shook the ground, the epitome of military precision, his movements revealing immense power.

He halted before the podium. From his aged vocoder came a deep, resonant question. Skynx translated in whispers.

"What do you require of the Guardian Corps?" the machine intoned.

"That with which you were entrusted is now in jeopardy," answered the Survivor on the podium, the steward's a.s.sistant. "What do you require of the Guardian Corps?" repeated the robot, uninterested in details. The Survivor pointed. "Follow the gully trail as we've marked it for you. It will bring you to your enemies. Destroy all that you find there. Kill everyone you encounter." The armored head regarded him for a moment, as if in doubt, then replied "You occupy the control platform; the Guardian Corps will obey. We will pa.s.s in review, as programmed, then go forth. "

The Corps Commander's cranial turrets rotated as he issued the squeals of his signalry. The war-robots began moving, forming an irregular line, moving just as their commander had. Without cadence or formation, they grouped to one side of the podium. But as they pa.s.sed it, the transmission horn's command circuitry automatically directed them to a.s.sume their review mode. From a ma.s.sed group, they separated into ranks and files as they pa.s.sed the podium, ten abreast, heavy feet rising and falling in step. With their Corps Commander at their head, the thousand war-robots marched, completing a circuit of the little valley. Even the Survivors were hypnotized by it; the sight of their ancient charges walking again was nothing less than magical to them. Metal feet beat the canyon floor; arms as thick as a man's waist swung in unison. Han wondered if Fuoch's people wouldn't be able to hear their approach even over the sound of mining operations. At some unseen signal from their Corps Commander, the robots stopped. The commander came around to face the podium with a rocking motion. From his vocoder boomed the words "We are ready." The Survivor on the podium instructed the robots to stand fast for a time. "We go now to a vantage point, from which we will observe your attack. When we are in place you may proceed against the enemy. " He and the other Survivors hurried off to watch the carnage.

Presently the air was still, the war-robots waiting patiently, the only sound the distant buzz of the mining camp.

"We've got to get to the camp first," Han declared as they drew back from the ridge and got to their feet. "Are you completely vacuum-happy?" Hasti wanted to know. "We'll get there just in time to go through the meatgrinder!"

"Not if we hurry. Those windup soldiers down there will have to go the long way around; we can run the ridge line if we're careful and get there first. The Falcon's our only way off this mud-ball; if we can't get to her, we're going to have to tip Fuoch that' the robots are on their way, or they'll rip my ship apart." He wished he could figure out why the Survivors were intent on destroying the mining camp and slaughtering its personnel. "Everyone keep up. I'll go first, then Hasti, Skynx, Badure, Bollux, and Chewie on rearguard." Han put the heavy-a.s.sault rifle across his shoulders and set off, the others falling into their a.s.signed places.

But when Chewbacca beckoned Bollux, the labor 'droid hesitated. "I'm afraid I'm not functioning up to specifications, First Mate Chewbacca.

I'll have to come along as best I can." The Wookiee was torn by indecision for a moment, then trotted off after the rest, making it clear with hand motions and growls that Bollux was to come along as quickly as he could. The 'droid watched Chewbacca disappear from view, then opened his chest plastron so that he and Blue Max could speak in vocal-normal mode, as they preferred.

"Now, my friend," he drawled to the little computer module, "perhaps you'll explain why you wanted us to stay behind. I practically had to lie to First Mate Chewbacca to do it; we may very well be left behind." Max, who had taken in the situation via direct linkage with Bollux, answered simply. "I know how to stop them. The war-robots, I mean; but we'd have to destroy them all to do it. We needed time to talk it over, Bollux." And Blue Max related the plan he had conceived. The labor 'droid responded even more slowly than usual. "Why didn't you mention this before, when Captain Solo was here?" "Because I didn't want him to decide! Those robots are doing what they were built to do, just like we are. Is that any reason to obliterate them? I wasn't even sure I should tell you; I didn't want you to blow your primary stacks in a decisional malfunction. Wait; what're you doing?" The labor 'droid's chest plastron was swinging shut as he toed the edge of the ridge.

"Seeking alternatives," he explained, stepping off. Bollux slid and stumbled and plowed his way down the slope to the valley floor, working with heavy-duty suspension of arms and legs to keep from being damaged.

At last he' came to an awkward stop at the bottom amid a minor avalanche.

Standing erect, he approached the war-robots, who waited in their gleaming, exact formation. The Corps Commander's cranial turret rotated at Bollux's advance. A great arm swung up, weapons-apertures opening.

"Halt. Identify or be destroyed." Bollux replied with the recognition codes and authentication signals he had learned from Skynx's ancient tapes and technical records. The Corps Commander studied him for a moment, debating whether this strange machine ought to be obliterated, recognition codes or no. But the war-robots' deliberative circuitry was limited. The weapon-arm lowered again. "Accepted. State your purpose."

Bollux, with no formal diplomatic programming to draw upon and only his experience to guide him, began hesitantly. "You mustn't attack. You must disregard your orders; they were improperly given." "They were issued through command signalry of the podium. We must accept. We are programmed; we respond. " The cranial turret rotated to face front again, indicating that the subject bore no further discussion. Bollux went on doggedly. "Xim is dead! These orders of yours are wrong; they do not come from him; you cannot obey them!" The turret swung to him again, the optical pickups betraying no emotion. "Steel-brother, we are the warrobots of Xim. No alternative is thinkable."

"Humans are not infallible. If you follow these orders, they'll lead to your destruction. Save yourselves!" He could not admit that it would be by his own hand. The vocoder boomed. "Whether this is true or not, we carry out our orders. We are the war-robots of Xim."

The Corps Commander faced front again. "The waiting time has elapsed. Stand aside; no further delay will be tolerated." He emitted a squeal of signalry. The ranks of warrobots stepped off as one, arms swinging. Bollux had to spring aside to keep from being trampled beneath them. His chest plastron swung open as he watched them go. "What do we do now?" Blue Max wanted to know. "Captain Solo and the others will be down there, too." There was a quiver of sorrow in Bollux's voice modulation.

"The war-robots have their built-in programming. And we, my friend, have ours."

14.

THEY had worked their way to a ridge overlooking the outer perimeter of the mining camp before Han discovered Bollux wasn't with them. Han, incensed, slipped around a spire of rock for a look at the camp. "I told that low-gear factory reject we needed him to monitor for sensors. Well, we're just going to have to be extra-" Sirens began ululating through the camp. The travelers all hit the ground at once, but Han risked a peek around the spire Now that they had been detected, information was more important than concealment. The mining camp was swarming like an insect nest. Humans and other beings were running every which way to take up emergency stations. Those employees trusted by Fuoch were being issued arms and taking up defensive positions. Contact laborers were ordered by their overseers to retire across the bridge to the isolation and effective confinement of the plateau barracks area. Han couldn't spot the sensor net he had tripped, but it was apparent that it had him pinpointed. Several reinforced fire teams were dashing to bunkers fronting Han's hiding place. Han saw that grounded near the Millennium Falcon and the gigantic mining lighter was another vessel, a small starship with the sleek lines of a scout. Suddenly a response squad started up the hill to engage them, two human males with disruptor rifles, a horn-plated W'iiri scuttling on its six legs and bearing a grenade thrower, and an oily-skinned Drall, its red hide gleaming, lugging a gas projector. Half-kneeling, half-crouching by the spire, Han dragged the old Kell Mark II around by its balance-point carrying handle.

Knowing of the outdated weapon's powerful recoil, he braced himself before thumbing the firing stud. Blue energy sprang from the Kell's muzzle, tracing a broad line across the rock wall below. He was nearly knocked over backward by the Mark II's kick, but Chewbacca braced him.

The rock sizzled, smoked, and shot sparks, then cracked, fragments and shards falling downslope. The response squad sought cover with gratifying freneticism.

"That should keep them off our necks until we can talk," Han judged. Cupping hand to mouth, he called out, "J'uoch! It's Solo! We have to talk, right away!" The woman's voice, amplified by a loudhailer, rose from one of the bunkers. "Give me that log-recorder disk and throw down your guns, Solo; those are the only terms you'll get from me!

"But she saw that we didn't have the disk," Badure muttered.

"Didn't she guess that we couldn't get it from the lockbox?" Han shouted down, "We've got no time to debate this, J'uoch; you and your whole camp are about to come under attack! " He pulled back suddenly as a barrage of small-arms fire opened up. Huddling back from it, the travelers clutched their heads in protection while energy- and projectilesearching fire probed the hillside. Rocks bubbled and exploded; shrapnel and splinters flew while explosive concussion battered their ears. "I don't think she's going to be reasonable about this," predicted Badure.

"She's got to be," Han snapped, thinking of what would happen to his starship if the robots overran the camp. The firing slowed for a moment, then, at some command they didn't hear, resumed even more heavily. "Face it, Solo, " Hasti called to him over the din, "they want our hides and nothing less. The only way we'll get to the Falcon is if we can get to her while the robots are hitting the camp."

"When they're mixing it up with Fuoch's people? We wouldn't get two meters." At that moment the firing stopped again and a voice called his name from below. Hasti was gazing at him alarmed. "Solo, what's wrong?

You just went pale as perma-frost." He paid her no attention but saw by Chewbacca's expression that the Wookiee, too, recognized the voice of Gallandro the gunman.

"Solo! Come down and negotiate like a reasonable fellow. We have a great deal to discuss, you and I. " The voice was calm, amused. Han realized that sweat was beginning to bead his brow despite the cold. A sudden suspicion hit him, and he threw himself up into the clear for an instant, just enough to ease the Mark IIs barrel over the crest. The response squad was on the move and another was rushing to link up with it. Han thumbed the trigger and hosed the barrel back and forth randomly.

The heavy-a.s.sault rifle was a product of Dra III, made for the heavier, stronger inhabitants of that world, with its Standard-plus gravity. The Mark II's recoil forced him back a second time, but not before the play of its extremely powerful beam drove the advancing squads to cover once more.

"Spread out along the ridge or they'll outflank us!" Han ordered.

His companions hurried to comply as Gallandro's voice came again.

"I knew you wouldn't have died in something as foolish as that uneven ship-to-ship action back at the city, Solo. And I knew the Millennium Falcon would draw you here in time, no matter what."

"You know just about everything, don't you?" Han riposted. .

"Except where that log-recorder is. Come, Solo; I've struck a bargain with the delightful Fuoch here. Do the same, don't make things difficult. And don't make me come up there after you "

"C'mon, what's stopping you, Gallandro? There'll be nothing left of you but those little mustache beads!" Chewbacca and the others had taken up sniping at the response squads, pinning them down for now, but Han was worried about the armed aircraft in the mining camp. The thought had no sooner formed than, scanning the sky, he saw. a quick, dangerous shape swooping down at them. "Everybody down!" The s.p.a.ceboat, twin to the one that had been destroyed in the city by the lighter, made a quick preliminary pa.s.s at the ridge, its chin pods spitting. Anti-personnel rounds threw out clouds of flechettes; Han could feel the craft's afterblast as it darted by. He raised his head to see what damage it had done. By some fortune the first pa.s.s, being hasty, had resulted in no one's being hit. But they were badly exposed there on the ridge; the next pa.s.s might well finish them all. Han pulled the heavy-a.s.sault rifle to him with.a grunt of effort, pushed himself upright, and rushed out into the open on the back side of the ridge. At the camp below, Gallandro conferred with Fuoch. "Madame, recall your boat; I'll trouble you to remember our deal. " He spoke with a hint of impatience, as close to emotion as he ever let himself come. "Solo is mine, not to be killed by air attack." Peering out of the bunker, she dismissed the objection with a wave of her hand. "What does it matter, as long as he's eliminated? My brother's using anti-personnel rounds; the log-recorder won't be damaged." The gunman smiled, reserving his retaliation for a more convenient moment. He touched up his mustachios with a knuckle. "Solo is well armed, my dear Fuoch. You may be surprised at his resourcefulness, as may your brother." Han raced over the open ground, keeping one eye out for available cover. Though hindered by the weight of the Mark II, he adjusted it for maximum range and power level as he ran. He had thought about handing the weapon over to the Wookiee to let him shoot at the boat, but the Falcon's first mate had little liking or affinity for energy weapons, preferring his bowcaster. Han heard the boat begin its second pa.s.s. Fuoch's brother, Wall, dove at the exposed, fleeing man. Han threw himself into a troughlike depression in the rock, the Mark II clattering down next to him. The boat flashed past, so close that Han was in the dead area between the guns' fields of fire. Flechettes burst in long lines to either side of him. R'all flashed off, adjusting his weapons for a final pa.s.s. Han got up, braced the Mark IIs b.u.t.tplate against the rock, and fired. Still the heavy-a.s.sault rifle's recoil made it jump and turn; the boat was out of range before he had come anywhere near it, and now was banking for a pa.s.s that was sure to find its target.

Han hitched himself around the stone trough and pulled the Mark II's bipod legs down. He had only one more trick left, and if that didn't work, he'd have no more worries about treasure, Gallandro, or the Falcon.

Resettling so that his knees and the small of his back were higher than his shoulders, he wrestled the Mark II around and rested it on the incline of his legs. He set his feet against the bipod legs, holding the weapon tightly to steady it. He squinted upward through the heavy-a.s.sault rifle's open sights. The boat came at him again. He bracketed it in the sights and waited until he heard the first concussion of Wall's fire.

Then he opened up, bracing the bucking Mark II with hands and feet, holding it fairly steady for the first time. The boat's pilot recognized his danger too late; an evasive maneuver failed and the heavy-a.s.sault rifle's full force caught the light boat, tearing a long gash in the fuselage. Control circuitry and power panels erupted and a gaping hole appeared in the c.o.c.kpit canopy. The boat wallowed and shook, out of control, and disappeared in a steep dive, trailing smoke and flame. A moment later the ground shook with impact.

"Wall!" J'uoch screamed to her dead brother as she clawed her way out of the bunker. The. boat had exploded on impact, scattering burning debris over a long, wide swath of ground. Gallandro caught her arm "Wall is gone," said the gunman with no particular sympathy. "Now, we will do this thing as we originally agreed. Your ground forces will encompa.s.s Solo's position, and we'll force him out into the open and capture him alive." She wrenched her arm away, seething with rage. "He killed my brother! I'll get Solo if I have to blow these mountains apart! " She turned and called out to her enforcer, the hulking Egome Fa.s.s, who stolidly awaited orders. "Get the crew to the loadlifter and warm up main batteries." She was about to turn from him when an unfamiliar sound, rising over the fury of the boat's destruction, made her pause. "What's that?" Gallandro heard it, too, as did Egome Fa.s.s and all the others in the camp. It was a steady beat, shaking the ground, the pounding of metal feet. The column of Xim's war-robots appeared at a spot farther along the mining camp's perimeter, having finished their roundabout march from their mustering place. They came in glittering ranks, arms swinging, unstoppable. When their Corps Commander gave the signal that freed them from lockstep, they spread out across the site to begin their devastation. Fuoch stared in astonishment, not quite believing what she saw. Gallandro, fingering one of the gold beads that held his mustache, tried to remain calm. "So, Solo was telling the truth after all." Up on the ridge, Chewbacca hooted to the exhausted Han, indicating the camp.

Han wearily moved to the ridge and joined his companions in looking down on a scene of utter chaos. Their own presence had been forgotten by the response squads, fire teams, and other camp defenders. The war-robots, faithful to their instructions, moved to obliterate everything in their path. First to feel the battle machines' power was a domed building that housed repair shops. Han saw a robot smash through the dome's personnel door while a half-dozen of his comrades set to work wrenching off the rolling doors. Pieces of lockslab gave way like soggy pulp, and a group of Xim's perfect guardians moved into the dome, demolishing work areas and heavy equipment, ripping down hoisting gear, and firing with the weapons built into their metal hands. Heatbeams and particle discharges flashed, throwing weird shadows within the dome. The building flared, pitted in a score of places. The robots' fire lanced the dome, probing the sky. More of them pressed in to tear apart everything they encountered. It was the same elsewhere in the vast mining site. The warrobots, with their limited reasoning capacity, were taking their orders literally, devoting as much attention to devastating buildings and machinery as to attacking camp' personnel. Whole companies of the war machines were moving among the abandoned mining autohoppers and landgougers, tow-motors and excavators. The robots blasted and sprayed fire everywhere, making full use of their tremendous strength. One of them was sufficient to reduce a small vehicle to rubble in moments; for larger equipment, groups cooperated. Tracks were wrenched from crawlers, whole vehicles lifted off the ground, their axles snapped, wheels ripped off, cabs torn loose, and engines yanked out of their compartments like toys. A battalion moved toward a barge sh.e.l.l that contained the latest shipment of refined ore. The robots tore into it, swinging and firing, wrecking everything they encountered and hurling the pieces aside.

Meanwhile, others engaged the camp personnel in determined combat; turning the camp into a scene of unbelievable chaos. War-robots flooded through the operations site. "They're headed for the Falcon!" Han bellowed, then charged down the ridge. Badure's shouted warnings went unheeded. Chewbacca went racing after his partner; Badure took off, too, followed by Hasti. Skynx was left alone, staring after them. Although going after his companions seemed a good way to ensure that he would never see the chrysalis stage, he realized that he had become a part of the oddly met group and felt acutely incomplete without them. Abandoning good Ruurian prudence, he flowed off after the others. At the bottom of the slope, Han found his way blocked by one of the robots. It was just finishing demolishing one of the bunkers, kicking the fusion-formed walls to bits and hurling the larger chunks easily. The robot turned on him, its optical lenses extending a bit as their focal point adjusted. It lifted and aimed its weapon-hand. Han quickly brought up the heavy-a.s.sault rifle and fired point-blank, knocked back several steps by the sustained recoil. His fire blazed blue against the mirror-bright chest.

The machine itself was driven back a step with an electronic outburst and was ripped open. Han moved his aim up to the spot where the cranial turret was joined to the armored body. The head came off, flying apart, smoke and flame gushing from the decapitated body. Han shot it again for good luck and the Mark II's beam came only faintly; the weapon was - virtually exhausted. But it served to topple the robot, which landed with a resounding clatter. More war-robots were reaching that part of the camp. Chewbacca descended to level ground, trailing dust and tumbling pebbles, just as another machine came at Han. The Wookiee threw his bowcaster to his shoulder and aimed. But his fire bounced off the robot's hard breastplate; he had forgotten his weapon was still loaded with regular rounds rather than with explosives. Han threw aside the useless a.s.sault rifle and drew his blaster, setting it for maximum power.

Chewbacca stepped back, removing the magazine from his weapon and taking one of the larger ones from his bandoleer. Han stepped in front to cover him in a stiff armed firing stance. He squeezed off bolt after bolt, deliberately and with great concentration, into the approaching robot's cranial turret. Four blaster rounds stopped the machine just as it fired in response. Han ducked the heatbeam that split the air where he had stood. As the robot fell, the beam traced a quick arc upward. Defenders that were sufficiently well armed were putting up stiff resistance with rocket launchers, grenade throwers, heavy weapons, and crew-served guns.

Living beings and war machines were reeling back and forth in a storm of energy discharges, bullets; sh.e.l.ls, and fire. Four robots lifted the reinforced roof off a boxlike but as the men defending it fired frantically. Using a chattering quad-gun, the men's shots kicked up enormous clots of ground and blew away segments of the machines even as.they attacked. More robots approached to join in; the crew, with barrels depressed, traversed their gun back and forth in a frenzy, taking a terrible toll. But even though several crew members used side arms in a desperate attempt to keep from being overrun, the roofless but was gradually outflanked and disappeared behind a wall of gleaming enemies.

Not far away, a dozen of Fuoch's employees had formed a firing line in three ranks, concentrating on any robot that came near, and were thus far succeeding in preserving their lives. Elsewhere, isolated miners worked their way among the high rocks to exchange earnest fire with the machines, which couldn't negotiate the incline. But many of the camp personnel were caught alone or unarmed, or were surrounded. The fighting was heaviest and fiercest.there, the robots' implacability matched against the furious determination of the living beings. Humans, humanoids, and nonhumanoids dodged, evaded, ran, or fought as well as they could. War-robots simply advanced, overcoming obstacles or being destroyed, without any sense of selfpreservation whatsoever. Han saw a stocky Maltorran run up behind a robot with a heavy beamdrill cradled in its brachia and press it flush against the machine's back. The robot exploded, and the drill, exploding from the backwash, killed the Maltorran. Two mining techs, a pair of human females; had gotten to a landgouger and were making a resolute effort to break through the automaton lines, crushing many of them under the gouger's tremendous treads, maneuvering to avoid their weapons' aim. But soon the fire of many robots converged on them, finding the landgouger's engine. The gouger was blown apart with an ear-splitting explosion Elsewhere, Han saw a robot grappling with three W'iiri who had swarmed onto it, tearing at it with their pincers. The machine plucked them off one by one, smashing them and tossing them aside, broken and dying; but in the next moment; the robot itself toppled over, disabled by the damage they had done it.

"We'll never get through to the Falcon!" Badure yelled at Han.

"Let's get out of here!" More robots were approaching, and to attempt a return up the steep ridge under fire would be out of the question. The old man proposed, "We can withdraw across the bridge and take shelter in the barracks area!" Han glanced across the creva.s.se. "It's a dead end; there's no other way off that plateau." He considered blowing the bridge behind them, but that would take the Millennium Falcon's guns, or those of the lighter. The latter ship was herself under attack. A ring of dozens of war-robots had formed around her, furiously firing while the huge cargo ship's engines strained to lift her off, her main batteries answering the robots' fire. Many of the robots' weapons were silent, their power exhausted, but more of the machines were gathering around the lighter every moment. Though the vessel's salvos wiped out five and ten robots at a time, sending them flying in heaps of tangled, liquefied wreckage, Xim's machines kept cl.u.s.tering to her, weaponshands blazing, standing their ground. Soon hundreds were ma.s.sed there. Others turned their attention to Gallandro's scoutship, cutting swaths in, her hull.

The lighter rose unsteadily, her shields glowing from the concentrated fire, her heavy guns raking back and forth. Just at the moment it seemed she would reach safety, one of her aged defensive shields failed; after all, the lighter was an old industrial craft, not a combat vessel. The ship became a brilliant ball of incandescence, showering torn hull fragments and molten metal into the creva.s.se. The detonation knocked combatants, living and machine both, to the ground. Han was on his feet again in an instant, charging toward the Falcon with his blaster in his hand, determined that the same thing would not happen to his beloved ship. So was someone else. Across the battlefield a ring of warrobots was closing in on the converted freighter, preparing to demolish her, their arms raised and weapon apertures open. Others were shoving the wreckage of Gallandro's scoutship toward the brink of the creva.s.se. Another machine, far smaller than they, blocked the way to the Millennium Falcon, seeming fragile and vulnerable. Bollux's chest plastron was open, and Blue Max's photoreceptor gazed forth. From his vocoder tumbled the signals learned from tapes shown him by Skynx, amplified by the gear Bollux had cannibalized from the podium. The advance stopped; the warrobots waited in confusion, unable to resolve the conflicting orders. The Corps Commander appeared, the death's-head insignia of Xim gleaming on his breastplate. He loomed over Bollux. "Stand aside; everything here is to be destroyed."

"Not this vessel," Max told him in the command signalry. "This one is to be spared." The towering robot studied the two-in-one machines.

"Those were not our orders." Max's voice, directed through the podium's scavenged horn, was high. "Orders may be amended!" The thick arm came up, and Bollux prepared for the end of his long existence. But instead a metal finger indicated the Falcon, and the command came "Spare that vessel." With signals of acknowledgment, the other war-robots moved on.

The Corps Commander still regarded the labor 'droid and the computer module. "I am still not sure about you two, machines. What are you?"

"Talking doorstops, if you listen to our captain's opinion,"

offered Blue Max. The Corps Commander'stood stock-still in surprise.

"Humor? Was that not humor? What have machines become? What kind of automata are you?"

"We are your steel-brothers," Bollux put in. The Corps Commander made no further comment, but continued on his way. The waves of robots had thwarted Han's effort to reach his ship. One, stepping over the ruins of a crew-served gun and its slain crew, advanced toward the pilot. Han was looking elsewhere, helping Hasti. fire blaster and disruptor shots at a machine approaching from the opposite direction. Han's shot scored the cranial turret; Hasti's, less practiced, sent its torso and limbs in a wild scatter. Badure was firing at still another, a long-barreled power pistol in each hand. Chewbacca stepped into the path of the oncoming robot and triggered his bowcaster. Its staves straightened, and the explosive quarrel detonated against the robot's chest armor, holing it but not stopping it. The Wookiee held his ground, jacking the foregrip of his bowcaster and firing twice more, this time hitting the robot's head and midsection. The machine came on relentlessly. Its 'weapons-hands were raised, but their power had been drained in battle. Chewbacca backed a step and came up against Han, who was still firing the other way. Then the robot toppled forward. Chewbacca, standing in its very shadow; would hav e leaped clear but realized that Han was unaware of his imminent danger. The Wookiee shoved the pilot aside with a sweep of his hairy arm but failed himself to avoid the tottering automaton. It struck him and pinned his right arm and leg to the ground. Skynx raced to him and began pulling ineffectually at the Wookiee. Another robot chose that moment to step over the one Han and Hasti had just downed. Since Hasti's disruptor was drained, Han moved forward, then realized that his blaster's cautionary pulser was tingling his palm in silent warning that his weapon, too, was spent. He whirled and called to his sidekick; then saw the Wookiee wriggling to extricate himself from under the fallen robot.

Chewbacca paused long enough to loft his bowcaster into the air one-handed. Han caught it, pivoted, dropped to one knee, and pressed the stock to his cheek. He squeezed, and the explosive blast blew up against the juncture of the approaching machine's shoulder and arm. The metal limb fell away, and the robot shuddered but kept coming. Han tried to jack the bowcaster's foregrip and found, as had the man in the city, that his human strength was insufficient. He stopped himself from dodging out of the way; Chewbacca lay trapped, directly behind him. Badure, some distance away, couldn't hear Han's shouts for aid. Hasti fired at the machine with the only weapon she had left, the dartshooter, but emptying the whole clip at it served no purpose. Han avoided Chewbacca's efforts to swipe him out of the way and shifted his grip on the bowcaster, preparing for a last, hopeless defense.

15.

THE war-robot seemed to block out the sky, a machine out of a nightmare. But abruptly its cranial turret flew apart in a blast of charred circuitry and ruptured power routing as a thread-thin, precisely aimed beam found its most vulnerable point. Han scarcely had the presence of mind to take a step back, nearly treading on Chewbacca, as the automaton crashed at his feet like an old tree. He leaped up onto its back and scanned the battlefield. Far across it, a form in gray waved once.

"Gallandro! " The gunman gave him a bare, stark smile that held nothing Han could read. Han drew without thinking, then remembered his blaster was empty. Just then a robot appeared behind Gallandro, closing in on him, arms wide. Han never made a conscious decision, but pointed and shouted a warning. The gunman was too far away to have heard, but he saw Han's expression and understood. He spun and ducked instinctively.

The robot just missed with a blow of enormous power. With an incredible display of agility and reflexes, Gallandro seized the arm and rode the robot's recoverybackswing, at the same time putting two quick shots into its head. Letting go, he was flung clear to land lightly and put a last bolt into the robot as it fell. Han watched the incident with awe. By far the most dangerous machine there was Gallandro. The gunman gave Han a sardonic bow' and a mocking grin, then, like a ghost, was gone again in the swirl of battle. The air was hot with the unleashed energies of the battle. With Skynx's and Badure's help, Chewbacca had squirmed free - of the fallen robot, while Hasti stood nervous guard. Taking back his bowcaster, the Wookiee made a quick motion toward the robot that had so narrowly missed nailing Han and barked a question.

"It was him, Gallandro," Han told his partner. "A fifty-, maybe sixty-meter tight-beam shot. " The Wookiee shook his head in bewilderment, mane flying. There was nowhere to go except the camp living area, across the bridge. "Will you two stop chatting and get going?"

Hasti called. "They'll have us surrounded if we don't hurry." They started for the bridge at the best pace they could manage, a half-trot, each of them bearing a number of minor injuries and wounds. They moved in a defensive ring, Badure at the leading edge with his power pistols, Hasti to his right and Skynx to his left, with Chewbacca and Han bringing up the rear, back-pedaling and sideskipping. A metallic voice called Han's name. Bollux somehow injected a note of immense relief into his vocoder drawl. "We're so glad you're all safe. The Millennium Falcon's unharmed, at least for the time being, but I don't know how long that will last. Unfortunately, -it's inaccessible just now." Han wanted to know exactly what that meant, but Bollux interrupted. "No time for that now. I have the means to remedy our situation, sir," he told the pilot, resettling the signalry equipment he had taken from the robots' command podium. "But you'll have to get to the far side of the bridge before I can use it."

"You're on, Bollux! All right, everybody, scratch gravel!" They hastened away. The attack hadn't gotten as far as the bridge yet, but resistance was crumbling rapidly. At the bridgehead Bollux paused. "I'll be staying here, sir. The rest of you must proceed across." Han looked around. "What're you going to do, talk them into suicide? You better stay with us; we'll take to the high ground on the plateau." With a strange sincerity, the 'droid refused. "Thank you for your concern, sir; Max and I are flattered. But we have no intention of being destroyed, I a.s.sure you." Han felt ridiculous for arguing with a 'droid, but insisted, "This is not the place to get n.o.ble, old-timer." Seeing the war-robots converging on them, Bollux persevered. "I really must insist that you go, sir; our basic programming won't permit Max and me to see you come to harm here." They departed unwillingly. Hasti walked with. the tired Skynx beside her. Badure patted the 'droid's hard shoulder and trudged off, and Chewbacca waved a paw. "Look after Max," Han said, "and don't get yourself junked, old fellow. Bollux watched them go, then searched among the rocks and boulders for a place of concealment at that end of the bridge. Han and his companions slogged wearily across the bridge among others who had survived the robots' onslaught and were now falling back for a final stand. At the halfway point they came upon the body of a fallen mining tech who had died before she could complete the crossing, a T'rinn whose bright plumage was now charred and burned from combat. Han gently took a shoulder-fired rocket launcher from her lifeless claws, the weapon still containing a half-magazine of rockets. He was just standing up when a figure broke from the stream of retreating miners and attacked him, swinging an empty needlebeamer.

"Murderer!" J'uoch shrieked, her first blow grazing the pilot over the ear before he was aware of her onset. "You killed my brother! I'll kill you, you filthy animal!" Dazed, he pushed himself backward to avoid the blows she was raining on him, forearm up to protect himself.

Chewbacca would have torn the hysterical woman from his friend, but at the same moment he was struck from be hind, a heavy blow from a thick forearm. The Wookiee fell to his knees, losing his bowcaster, as a huge weight fell upon him Egome Fa.s.s, the enforcer. The two huge creatures rolled over and over, wrestling, tearing at one another. Retreating miners skirted the struggles, concerned only with staying alive. Badure, weakened by the ordeal, waved an unsteady power pistol at Fuoch. But before he could fire, Hasti had thrown herself at the woman who had killed her sister Lanni. They whirled and fought, hacking and kicking at each other, finding reserves of strength in their mutual hatred. Badure pulled Han up just as Fuoch got her forearm around Hasti's throat. But Hasti writhed free of the hold, dropped and turned, put her head and shoulder against the other's midsection and drove her back with feet churning and driving. Fuoch was shoved backward against the bridge's waisthigh railing and toppled over it. She fell screaming, in a flurry of coveralls, reaching and thrashing. Hasti's momentum had carried her halfway over the rail, too. Badure was there in time to pull her back from the rail, grabbing the material of her clothe. She sobbed for breath, her pulse pounding. Then it came to her that the roaring she heard wasn't in her ears, Chewbacca and Egome Fa.s.s had gone to war. It had been the second time Fuoch's enforcer had struck the Wookiee from behind. What the Falcon's first mate felt now could only pallidly be described as outrage. Han waved Badure off when the old man would have shot Egome Fa.s.s. The two punched and grasped at one another while Han leaned against the rail to watch the honor match., "Aren't you going to help him?" Hasti puffed, her face showing the scratches and abrasions of her own match.

"Chewie wouldn't appreciate that," Han told her, keeping one eye on the rallying of robots at the end of the bridge. But he eased a pistol from Badure's belt in case the match didn't go as it should. Egome Fa.s.s had gotten a choke-hold on Chewbacca. Rather than squirm out of it or apply an in-fighting trick, the Wookiee chose to lock both hands on his opponent's arm and turn it into a contest of pure strength. Egome Fa.s.s was bulkier, Chewbacca more agile, but the question of brute force was still open. Their arms quivered and muscles jumped in the straining backs. Bit by bit the arm was levered away from Chewbacca's throat. The Wookiee showed his fangs in savage triumph, and burst free of the hold.

But Egome Fa.s.s wasn't done with tests of strength. He lunged at his antagonist for a -deadly hug. Chewbacca accepted it. They staggered back and forth, first the Wookiee's feet leaving the bridge, then the enforcer's. Both applied their full brawn in fearsome constriction. Egome Fa.s.s's feet were lifted clear of the bridge and stayed that way as the Wookiee held him aloft, muscles standing out like cables under Chewbacca's pelt. The enforcer's struggle became more frantic, less aggressive. Panic crept into his movements. Then there was a crack, and Egome Fa.s.s's body slumped. Chewbacca let go, and the enforcer slid limply to the bridge's surface. The Wookiee had to rest a paw on a support to steady himself. Han teetered over with the rocket launcher over one shoulder. "You're getting decrepit; two tries to put away a b.u.m like that! " He laughed and affectionately punched the Wookiee's shoulder.

"Enough, enough!" Skynx protested, tugging at Han's red-seamed trouser leg. "The robots are ready to attack; Bollux said we must be across the bridge." Han didn't know how much chance the labor 'droid stood of stopping the steel horde, but he and the others obeyed Skynx's pleas. There was no one to stand with them at the end of the bridge. The miners who had reached it had gone either to put up barricades in the buildings or to find safe places among the rocks. Han stopped as soon as his boots were off the bridge. He sat on the ground, looking back across the bridge. "We might as well face it here." No one made any objection.

Badure gave Hasti one of his pistols, while Chewbacca fitted a new magazine into his bowcaster. Hasti put one arm around Han's neck and kissed his cheek. "That's for a good try," she explained. Bollux crouched in the jumble of boulders on the far side of the bridge. The mining-operations site was now completely razed. Machinery was burned and buildings were flattened, and no living thing could be seen. The Corps Commander had mustered all his forces with high-pitched summonses. Other resistance had been crushed; all that remained was to annihilate the barracks area on the far side of the bridge, the successful completion of their first combat action in generations. Bollux waited and didn't try to interfere. That would have been useless, he knew; they weren't so different from him. The machines gathered around their commander by the hundreds. The Corps Commander indicated the way with a long metal arm, gleaming like a statue of death in the blue-white light. He stumped toward the bridge, and his awesome troops crowded after him. And as the war-robots drew abreast of him, about to step onto the bridge, Bollux triggered the command signalry he had brought from the podium. The Corps Commander fell into a marching step as the signals reached him. He didn't question them; the commands were automatic, military, geared to a segment of him that didn't doubt or ponder. Such was his construction. Behind their commander the other war-robots responded to the signal as well, falling into ranks of ten, in step with their leader. Funneled onto the bridge, their ranks filled it from side to side. They stepped with meticulous precision. Metal feet tramped; arms swung in time.

"Will it work?" Bollux asked his friend. Blue Max, tuned in with both their audio pickups, listened carefully, cautioning the 'droid not to bother him at this critical point. At Max's instruction, Bollux adjusted the marching tempo, matching the forced vibration of the robots'

tread to the bridge's own natural frequency, creating a powerful resonance. The war-robots marched in to do battle for an overlord generations dead. The bridge began to quake, dust rising and-forming a haze with the unified footfalls. Timbers reverberated, joints and stress members strained; the perfection of their marching made the robots a single, unimaginable power hammer. More of them poured onto the bridge and took up the step, adding to the concussions. At last the bridge itself thrummed under them as Max found the perfect beat. All the robots were on the bridge, with no thought but to get to the other side and attack the enemy. Han and the others rose, waiting. "I guess Bollux couldn't pull off his plan," Han said. The front rank, following their gleaming leader, had grown large. "We'll have to fall back."

"There's not much room for that," Hasti reminded him sadly. He had no answer. Suddenly Skynx exclaimed, "Look!" Han did, feeling a deep vibration through his boots. The bridge was shuddering in time with the robots' march, its timbers creaking and cracking with the punishment it couldn't absorb. Feet pounding, the robots marched on. Then there was a rending snap; the vibration had found a member that couldn't support it.

A timber bent and turned in its bed of press-poured material. The bed wouldn't accept the play and the timber twisted and split. All the supporting members at that side of the bridge gave way. There were electronic bleats of distress from the war machines and the popping of aged rivets from the timber joining plates. For a moment the whole doomed a.s.semblage, robots and bridge, was suspended in s.p.a.ce. Then all fell into the creva.s.se with a huge concussion, sending up clouds of rock dust and smoke and a wall of impact-noise that drove Han back from the creva.s.se's edge. Wiping the dust from his eyes and spitting it out of -his mouth, Han returned to the brink. Among the drifted dust and smoke he could see bridge timbers and the gleam of crumpled armor, the flare of circuit fires, overloaded power packs, broken leads, and shorted weapons.

Suddenly Bollux appeared at the other side of the creva.s.se, waving stiffly, having divested himself of the scavenged equipment. Han returned the wave, laughing. From now on those two are full crewmembers. A new sound made him look around in surprise and anger, mouthing a Corellian oath. The Millennium Falcon was lifting off. She rose on blaring thrusters, swinging out over the abyss. Han and Chewbacca watched in despair as they saw their ship whisked from under their noses despite all their efforts. But the freighter settled gently on their side of the creva.s.se. They got to her just as her ramp-bay doors opened and the main ramp lowered, beneath and astern the c.o.c.kpit. The main hatch rolled up, and there stood Gallandro. He welcomed them with a smile, his weapon conspicuously holstered. His fine clothing and beautiful scarf were soiled, but other than that, Han reflected, he looked none the worse for someone who had just waded through a horde of war-robots. The gunman sketched a mocking bow. "I found myself obliged to play dead among the slain; I couldn't get to the ship until the, robots had all left, or I'd have been of more a.s.sistance. Solo, those 'droids of yours are priceless!" His smile disappeared. "And so is Xim's treasure, eh? You're out for high stakes for a change; my compliments."

"You tracked me all the way from the Corporate Sector to tell me that?" Chewbacca had his bowcaster aimed at Gallandro, but Han knew that even that was no guarantee against the man's incredible speeddraw. The gunman made a wry twist of his mouth. "Not originally. I was rather upset about our encounter there. But I'm a man of reason; I'm prepared to put that aside in view of the amount of money involved. Bring me in for a full cut and we forget the grudge. And you get your ship back; wouldn't that strike you as a fair arrangement?" Han remained suspicious. "All of a sudden you're ready to kiss and make up?"

"The treasure, Solo, the treasure. The wealth of Xim would buy affection from anyone. All other considerations are secondary; surely that's in keeping with your own philosophy, isn't it?" Han was confused.

Hasti, who had come up behind him, said, "Don't trust him!" Gallandro turned clear blue eyes on her. "Ah, the young lady! If he doesn't accept my offer, you'll be in a bad way as well, my dear; this vessel's weapons are functional. " His voice went cold, the playacting evaporating.

"Decide," he ordered Han crisply. The defenders were beginning to emerge from the barracks, having seen the bridge collapse and the ship land. In another moment, escape might be much more complicated. Han reached out and pushed down Chewbacca's bowcaster. "Everybody onboard; we're back in business." In moments they had lifted off with Han at the controls, uttering angry maledictions at the techs who had torn the starship apart in search of the log-recorder disk and rea.s.sembled her so inexpertly.

"Why did Fuoch have the ship repaired, anyway?" Badure asked.

"She was either going to keep it for her own use or sell it,"

explained Gallandro. "She tried to sell me a lame story about her disagreements with you people, but considering the things I'd already discovered about your movements, the truth wasn't hard to guess." Han brought the ship in to hover over the camp. "What about the other miners, the ones who lived?" Hasti asked. "They've got food, weapons, supplies there," Badure said. "They can hold out until a ship shows up, or slog it over to the city." Han was bringing the Falcon down again on the other side of the creva.s.se A gleaming metal form waited there. Chewbacca went oft to let Bollux aboard.

"Like you said," Han found himself telling Gallandro defensively, "they're valuable 'droids."

"I said 'priceless,' " Gallandro corrected him. "Now that we're comrades, I'd never offend you by suggesting you've gone soft. May I inquire what our next move is?"

"Direct collection of intelligence data," Han declared, lifting off again. "Interrogation of indigenous personnel for tactical information.

We're going to make a couple of locals sweat and find out what all this was about." The Survivors who had activated the war-robots had decided to escape together in one large hover-raft rather than spread out across the plains in a fleet. A few pa.s.ses and a barrage from the Falcon's belly turret brought them to a halt. They threw down their arms and waited. Han prudently left Chewbacca at the ship's controls. He and the others, weapons recharged, went to confront the Survivors. Hasti, first down the ramp, waved her gun at them, shouting, and fairly dragged one of them off the raft. Han and Badure had to pull her off the man, while Gallandro looked on in amus.e.m.e.nt and Skynx in confusion.0 "It's him, I tell you," she yelled, straining to go after the frightened man again. "I recognize the white blaze in his hair. It's the vault steward's a.s.sistant."

"Well, clubbing him silly isn't going to help," Han pointed out as he turned to the man. "Better spill it, or I'll let her loose." The a.s.sistant licked dry lips. "I ca n say nothing, I swear! We are conditioned in youth not to reveal the secrets of the Survivors."