Fred Saberhagen Berserker 11 Berserker Kill

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they approached within a few meters of the station's outer hull, their
instruments allowed them to observe closely the binding web of forcefields
connecting the station with the giant berserker. But the towing field was
discontinuous, leaving large areas of the station's hull readily
accessible. The two explorers had no trouble in locating a suitable
airlock and docking their lifeboat.
Brabant and Sandy Kensing, approaching the yacht, observed the
flagship-obviously Solarian military, and looking very
seriously damaged-just beyond it. And there was some movement of lifeboats
between the two large ships.
"Not a false alarm, then. We've really got visitors." Kensing paused,
knowing a feeling of mingled awe and hope.
He looked at the bodyguard. "You didn't wake the Premier yet?"
"No." Brabant hesitated marginally. "I don't know if Nick has or not. Or if
Loki would let him. Anyway, I got my orders not to wake him unless it's
something I can't deal with-but in this case I
better."
Kensing said nothing. It would be fine with him if Dirac was allowed to sleep
on through all eternity.
Brabant, opening a tight communication beam to the station, roused
Loki, and debated briefly with his optelectronic counterpart. Brabant's
temper had been aroused before he felt satisfied that the guardian
program was really going to initiate the hour-long process of waking
Premier Dirac from his self-scheduled slumber.
"Now," said Brabant to Kensing, "you and I are going to see what's really
going on. So we can let the boss know as soon as possible." He eased forward
on the little shuttle's drive.
As far as they could tell, none of the small handful of people plying between
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the mysterious, damaged warship and the yacht had yet sighted Brabant and
Kensing's small craft. "Must be intent on their work, whatever it is
they're doing."
Soon Kensing and Brabant had docked against the
Eidolon
, on the far side from the hatches where the boats from the strange ship
had attached themselves.
Once inside the yacht, Brabant paused near the airlock to open one of the
ship's lockers and take out a holstered side arm that he attached to his belt.
"You'd better wait here, Kensing. I want to take a look at these people,
see what they're up to." The bodyguard hesitated marginally, then
gestured at the arms locker.
"Maybe you'd better put on a gun too, just in case."
So
, Sandy thought, you're going to trust me with a weapon
?
But of course the answer was yes. Brabant, and Scurlock, and
Dirac himself, would know that Kensing could be trusted-as long as Annie lay
in suspended animation, effectively the Premier's hostage.
Kensing helped himself to one of the handguns in the locker, and then with a
silent wave saw Brabant off on his reconnoitering mission.
A few seconds later, Kensing followed. Entranced by the prospect of
seeing new Solarian faces for the first time in three hundred years, he was
not going to wait.
He hadn't gone far before he tensed and stopped. Someone in space armor-not
Brabant, he hadn't been wearing armor-was walking down a side passage
toward him.
Then Kensing relaxed, recognizing the insignia, twin antique towers of
masonry painted on the armored torso. It was only
Nicholas Hawksmoor, in suit-form.
Even after all these years, looking in through the blank faceplate,
seeing only the empty helmet, gave Kensing an unsettled feeling. He
said: "Nick, I hear there are strange people on this ship."
"Yes," said the airspeakers of Nick's suit. His voice, as always, sounded very
human. The suit came to a stop near Kensing. Its speakers said nothing more.
"You've changed, Nick," Kensing remarked impulsively.
"Yes, I have, haven't I? But people always change, don't they?"
"Yes, of course."
"But you meant something more. How have I changed, specifically?"
"Oh. I suppose all I meant was-well, thinking back to before you were
reprogrammed-then you were-different."
"That seems a tautology, Sandy."
"Yes." Kensing considered that it probably wouldn't be wise to encourage Nick
to ponder his own history. At least it could be dangerous.
But now the subject had been raised, Nick was not disposed to let it drop.
"How have I changed? I'm really interested."
"Oh& I think you were more independent several years ago."
"Was that why I was reprogrammed? I was too independent?
You know, I'm certain large chunks of my memory were taken out."
"You'll have to ask our master about that. No one's ever told me the details.
But obviously you were reprogrammed about four years ago-in my subjective
time, that is. Just about the time the
Premier announced that Lady Genevieve had been found and was rejoining
us."
"I wonder if there was a connection?" Hawksmoor sounded innocently
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puzzled.
Kensing said nothing.
"I'll ask the Premier sometime," Nick decided. "He's not awake right now."
"He soon will be. I think Brabant has argued Loki into getting the old man out
of his box."
Nick seemed to have mixed feelings about that, because his suit
turned this way, turned that way, shook its empty helmet.
"He doesn't want to be awakened, ever, unless something we can't
handle should come up."
"That's what Brabant said& so, who are these people coming aboard the yacht?
Their own ship looks all shot up."
"I noticed that, of course. But I don't know who they are. All
the organic humans I know are in their assigned places-except one."
"Oh? Who's that?"
Hawksmoor sounded uncharacteristically uncertain. "I had thought his name
was Fowler Aristov, but now I'm not sure of his identity. I'm not sure of what
to do."
"Where is he now?"
Nick's suit raised an arm and pointed down the corridor.
Kensing started that way, turned back. "Coming?"
"Not now. You go and look. See what you think. I'll join you later."
Moments after that, Kensing was near the place where the medirobots
were installed, when he heard someone call his name. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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