Flight of the Maita Supercollection 3: Solving Galactic Problems Collector's Edition Read online

  "Sorry! I went into TTH fourteen for a thirty fourth of a second, which ... should .... Hmm. Damn! I lost him! I should be right on his ass!"

  "Let him catch up. TTH fourteen is more likely to take you too far than not far enough."

  There was a pause, then T6 said they had passed so far ahead that Wordt was barely detectable at all. It dropped into TTH1, calculated the time, and went back into TTH4.

  "Great galloping galaxies!" T6 cried. "It's a good thing we don't actually exist in relation to him in this plane!"

  "What happened?"

  "We are occupying the same space as friend Wordt. If he had dropped out of TTH as we went into it we would have made one hell of a flash! Now I have to be certain we don't both shift modes at the same time when I drop out again."

  "Drop into one and back into four. We should be close behind him then."

  There was a spinning sensation and T6 said they were close enough.

  "It's scary! Any change of plane at that point and it was all over for both of us! I was scared because he couldn't detect me there and I don't know where he's going – and we're in almost constant dropout loci. It's plain blind luck we didn't shift at the same time. I was ready to cruise like that and let him drop out, then try to find our way back to him fast. The last thing I ever expected to happen was my math was THAT nearly perfect! I thought natural variation would make a miss inevitable!"

  They waited for another nine hours before Wordt dropped into N space. Z was saying he had to take the blame for that particular miscalculation. It would've been quicker to wait for the probe of Eed.

  Maita reported Eed had definitely implicated all six of the board of directors. Hoed and Lang apparently committed suicide before they reached them. Bast was missing. He was off-planet.

  *That leaves Bast and Wordt the likely heads of the whole deal here. You can grab friend Wordt as soon as you see where he makes landfall.*

  "Oh, bull crap, Maita! I don't believe it! These things aren't run by committee. There's at least one layer above the board of directors. There has to be! Think! Wordt was working to get rid of two of the board through Eed, then he was going to get rid of Eed. There has to be someone pulling their strings!"

  There was a silence for a moment. *Thing says it agrees with Z about a lot of this. What do you think, Thing? Are you there?*

  [ Yes, Maita. I think Z is right. It wouldn't make much sense for him to have been right except for that single point. I'm sure Eed had some feeling there's a higher boss giving orders. How is your project coming, Maita? ]

  *Quite satisfactorily. Eed thinks there's only one boss above the board. He has heard a name, but it means nothing to him. He simply wondered about it.*

  "What's the name?" T6 asked. "We might run across it or it may appear in Wordt's files – if we can ever decode them."

  [ I have looked at the code and think it has a triple base, one of which is variable. That means a second code to instigate the variable aspect. Program that in, T Six. ]

  "Gotcha!" T6 replied. "What's the name? Do you have anything else? A world?"

  *The name is Moodad. That's all we have. Grab Wordt as soon as possible and maybe we'll discover something more from him.*

  There was nothing else to do until they were in a position to grab Wordt. They decided since they had wasted this much time they may as well see where he was going and who he met.

  They came into N space near Serphum, a rather pastoral little agricultural world where peoples of several races had established an easy life for themselves. All they asked was to be left alone. There were quite a few such worlds in the empire. Their right to choose how they wished to live was respected. Z was becoming angered more and more that these gangster types would use such a world, but T6 calmed him down.

  "He's making groundfall a thousand kilometers from anyone. He's not causing any problems. So far, I haven't seen where these people do so much to actually harm anyone except each other."

  "They live in luxury by preying on those who're weak and who can't afford it. They force these people into lives of crime. They take a race of people such as the Zurn and use them, and you say they only hurt each other?

  "Listen, T Six. I'm not someone who bleeds for people who commit crimes except in rare cases where it's not a matter of their own choice. These people use blackmail for some offense that would seem silly to you or me, they trick them into getting too deeply into debt to ever be able to extract themselves, they prey on a young and impatient race, and they turn all of those people into criminals.

  "It's true many of them would be criminals, in any case, but it's just as true some of them wouldn't.

  "The funds they're getting are going for establishing a very few in the deepest luxury. Those are the funds that're supposed to be going to University and Hospital, in case that tiny little detail slipped your mind.

  "I know there are probably thousands of unwilling prostitutes on the vacation worlds who were forced into that life by these few slimeballs. Don't try to convince me only those who wish to register of their own free will are prostitutes. You and I both know that's not true.

  "I've learned a lot in the past few hundred years. I say that any woman – or man – who wishes to be paid for sexual favors has every right to offer themselves. There are maybe half or a bit more of the races where sex is the kind of thing anyone would purchase. I have no argument with that, but it must be because they choose that field freely. It must never be because some low sleazebag has some little thing they use to coerce – some meaningless thing that can be used to blackmail.

  "It's true they'll fight among themselves in gang wars and power grabs or what have you, but there are almost always a lot of innocent people caught in the crossfire. I'm not fighting this thing because of some ridiculous argument against gambling or sex or use of recreational drugs – with the exception of those that are addicting – or any of the rest of what are called moral arguments. Moral arguments are the stupidest reason for ever acting against another person. Morals are very subjective and very indefinable things. I'm striking out because there are victims when people like these do the things they do. I strike out because of one and only one thing here. It's more or less what I've always fought. It makes no difference if it's a religion or these gangsters or whether it's politics or tyranny. These people are taking away the rights of individuals to make their own choices as to how they'll live their lives.

  "Earth's history has been nothing else, to be truthful. You were the ship Rimalt took that soldier to Mars in and were there and on Tau Ceti four and Goombridge. Surely you can understand how I feel about it!"

  "Yes, Z, I understand. We work well together. I wanted to know exactly how you viewed this. I wanted to know your motivation.

  "You're mostly trying to live down the history of your ancestors. You're saying you can see the mistakes they made and you desire to see those kinds of things eliminated from the affairs of other intelligent beings everywhere.

  "It'll never happen, Z. There are always new races growing up. Those mistakes are a part of that growing up.

  "Also, I agree with you.

  "Wordt's aground and there's another ship there. Shall we go calling?"

  *That's as long a morality speech as you've ever made, Z. You tend to take on guilts and recriminations to a degree that's best described as ... as.... Perhaps the word I'm searching for is more....*

  "Remarkable?" Z asked, "Maybe laudable, or even commendable? Maybe something along that order?"

  *Maybe stupid describes it best! It looks like a few centuries and you'd forget some of the worst of those idiotic traits. You can't begin to know how moronic this conversation seems to me!*

  "I was thinking of something along those lines, myself," T6 threw in. "Z was so serious and absorbed. He sounded like those politicians from the old records when you went to Earth. 'I'm soooo guilty! I throw myself on the mercy of my fellow beings and ask for understanding, though I know I don't for one tiny moment deserve your for
giveness! It was really all something everybody ELSE did, but I have to bear the guilt because I wasn't there to stop it before it started!' I'm sure glad I don't have all those racial guilts!"

  [ You three are fascinating! Now get this job done so we can go home. I've had about enough of this area to last a lifetime already. ]

  Dropping In

  The problem with a world that's virtually unpopulated over a large area such as this one is that anything coming in is very easy to detect. There's no background traffic to be lost in.

  "Why not go sit right on top of him and get it over with?" Z asked.

  He knew the answer, of course. He was trying to get T6 into another argument.

  "Okay!" T6 said. "Hang on!"

  "Hey!" Z cried. "Don't just go in there!"

  "Why not? You said to! I think I see how to handle you now. Just call your bluff."

  "Only when I'm bluffing. Can we come in under water? He won't have time to get sensors in yet."

  "He's about a hundred eighty kilometers from the ocean or even from water that's deep enough to hide in. Here's the setup as I see it."

  The holovid screen lighted up to show a large flat plain with a "J"-shaped line of hills about three quarters of the way from a mountain range toward the east, which was where the closest ocean was. There were a few ponds on the plain and a few small shallow streams here and there.

  "That plain is really flat!" T6 said. "He's in the center of the hills inside the end of the curve. I can't see any possible way to get in there without being spotted."

  "I'll have to go in among the hills. Are they really so smoothly domed?"

  "They've been open to the winds for a few million years. They tend to wear round. You can wind around them, but they're pretty low. You'll have to go slow. If they have a scanning detector on one of the three peaks here (Flashing dots) I can't get any closer than here (Another dot). That's one hundred sixty one kilometers, in a straight line. You'll have to stay low and slow and will be constantly curving around. I can program the floater to not move into any area where it can be spotted from this peak out where they are. It's about the highest point until way back here. You won't be able to make more than fifty kilometers per hour and your route will take you over nearly three hundred kilometers to go less than half of that.

  "Still want to try it?"

  "Two things. You keep saying ‘they’ and what other choice is there?"

  "There's another ship already there. I said that. We can go in blasting, but that could cost us finding out who the really big boss is if someone down there knows."

  "Could the bigshot be the one who's there?"

  "As good a chance as not. I take it you're going in? I'll use the time you're gone to get everything I can from Maita and Thing. We had a bit with TR earlier. It's tracing the last of the brains into a cave or something.

  "Maita has some big surprise going and wants us to finish this as fast as we can – like we're screwing around?"

  "You sure are feeling chatty. I guess I'd better ... I know who it'll be here!"

  "Who?"

  "Bast, I think was the name. He and Wordt are the last of the Sentah six. They're the last who might know who the big boss is. He was the only one who got away offworld. This is their hideout. This is the place they set up a long time ago in case things got too hot to handle. It'll have a lot of things built-in, unless they got too confident. This tells us the power play was Wordt and Bast and possibly Eed against the others. Wordt and Bast will know who the big boss is.

  "T Six, we have to get those files decoded! Get both Maita and Thing on it whether they like it or not. This is important!"

  "I'll do what I can. I've made a little progress in calculated separations of numericals, but I'm a long way from finding the real base for those randoms."

  "Hmm. They used the date as a randomizer before. Both Maitan Galactic Standard and the date on the planet ... you'd have to do a lot of research, but it would come, eventually. If you find one you can work backward."

  "One will base the key. I have one other idea. It came to me when I was talking with TR. It was updating me on the various brains."

  "Well, I'll be heading out, I guess. Put plenty of everything on the floater. I wish I had a couple of books to read or something."

  "There's a box of stuff Rimalt picked up on Mars. There're a lot of antique books in them. He liked to collect that sort of thing. Said it gave perspective to the history."

  Z looked through the book collection and picked out "The Martian Chronicles" by Arthur C. Clarke. He had read some of Clarke's work before he was abducted. There was a copy of "I, Robot" by Isaac Asimov. He had definitely heard of that one! The problem was, the old books were falling apart.

  "Put them on the console scanner. I'll make a crystal of them and you can read them on the holoscreen. I can preserve the originals that way. I'd, er, sort of like to keep them."

  Mementos of Rimalt. Z understood, and knew how hard it must have been for T6 to even offer them.

  Z went into the hold, climbed aboard the floater, checked the food and water and waved goodbye. He would have immediate full emergency communications, but would use none unless it truly were an emergency. Light beam would be impractical among the hills, gravitic and radio were too easily detected.

  It was getting pretty late, but darkness meant nothing to the floater. Z could put up the small energy shield. He could read the screen without being seen from outside. The floater would keep all the sensors and antennae outside of the field. It could detect scanners and other beams.

  Z was fortunate in that he could become engrossed in a good book and didn't notice time or how boring things were. The book could stimulate its own excitement and interest. He was also fortunate that both of his selections were excellent works. After his experiences, the Clarke book was almost like some kind of history. The robot book, with friends like Tab, was much like some kind of chronicle of actual events. The Laws of Robotics or whatever seemed almost quaint, though. A robot did what it was designed to do if it wasn't independently intelligent and such laws weren't needed. The very definition of independent intelligence made them unworkable, in actuality. The one about not harming or allowing any human etc. was downright silly, considering how many intelligences there were who were definitely NOT human!

  Maita had directives as to who it was to take orders from in a computer section, but that module had been programmed by the Pweetoos. The Pweetoos never knew Maita WAS intelligent. That old command module had been erased through a ruse.

  Of course, Z knew the nature of his race and knew they would probably actually try to program such laws into their robots, not to protect anyone, but because that would ensure their keeping absolute power over another being. The human race was slowly outgrowing that racially juvenile evolutionary directive. Finally, humankind was learning that to accept power necessitated accepting responsibility – not only in words, but in true fact. Power is a useless end to seek if only because it's a self-defeating thing. Power can be seized and taken, but respect and liking must be earned. So many lived a life of frustration on Earth because they could never understand it was the power that was respected, not the person. The holder of power is almost always despised.

  Strange musings to have while riding a floater on some world I never heard of before a couple of hours ago, Z thought. Meanwhile, I'm trying to catch a couple old-fashioned bad guys! Gangsters! Interstellar crooks! I wonder what Ike and Art would have given to be able actually to DO some of the things they wrote about?

  He shut the screen off and dropped the shield. Except that it was dark he could almost see what must look exactly like the same hills he saw as the floater left T6.

  Z deeply liked and respected T6. He knew the emotions were returned. T6 was sentimental, machine or not. To offer to allow Z to go through those mementos of Rimalt proved that.

  Z was also sure he knew what Maita was making and what the surprise would be. After three hundred years he knew pretty much
what Maita was thinking, most of the time.

  TRD-60 had Tab. Neither was ever really alone because they shared the same brain. They were literally part of one another. T6 was alone now that Rimalt was dead or would be when one of the crew weren't with it.

  Maita was building a partner for T6. That was the surprise. It was finished, or very nearly so, so Maita would be as excited as a little kid. It would be hyper until it could install the new partner/robot and connect the brains permanently.

  Another perfect schizophrenic, as he called TR/Tab. They each had their distinct personality, and were truly individuals, but were also different parts of one whole.

  It would work, too! Maita had built Tab and TR at the same time, to be a unit, but it would have learned everything it might need to know about the processes. It knew T6's mind intimately.

  Would it be another Swaz?

  It didn't seem likely, in one way, but seemed pretty well what it must be in another. There was always the shop where Tab or the new robot could be modified.

  Z giggled. He had completely forgotten he was identical to the furry Kappins at that very moment! The giggle caught the attention of the floater, which asked him if he needed anything. He said he was going to sleep awhile. He laid back in the seat, which adjusted to allow him to lay flat.

  The floater wasn't intelligent and had no feelings, but Z always treated the servo machines as though they did. It was hard for him to believe they felt absolutely nothing and that all their responses and moves were simply programmed in, though he knew full well such was the case.

  He dozed, then drifted into restful sleep. He awoke to find it was still dark.

  "How far are we out?" he asked.

  The shield dropped to show bright morning sunlight. "We should arrive in one hour, twenty two minutes and a few seconds," the floater answered. "We are to stop for one half hour before we arrive so you may eat, stretch and do whatever it is you do. There is a stop scheduled at a small stream. We will arrive there in seventeen minutes, though I will stop at any time you tell me."

  "The things I do are take a crap and maybe a bath in that stream, then eat some high energy food."