“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of expert at beating long odds,” Sasha probed. “Hell, a while back you were all set to take on that same airtight security system single-handed.”
“And now, between Sasha and me, you’ve got a ready pool of information as to what the security layout is and what makes the machines tick,” Rick added.
Hosato stared at the floor. The others remained silent, letting him turn the facts over in his mind. Finally he sighed and shook his head.
“No. It still won’t work.” he announced. “There’s one big problem no one seems ready to face. We don’t know what happened back there. Until we know what went wrong, we don’t know for sure what we’re up against. Without that little piece of information, any plan for a counterattack would be suicidal.”
The trio sat silently, each lost in their own thoughts.
“Wait a minute!” Rick exclaimed.
“What is it?” Sasha asked, but the mechanic was gone, disappearing through the door of the pilot’s compartment.
He was back in a moment, brandishing a sheaf of papers in his hand.
“Do either of you speak computer?” he asked eagerly.
He dumped the papers in Hosato’s lap, who bent to examine them. The papers were covered with what appeared to be typed mathematical notations interspersed with word fragments.
“What are they?” he asked.
“You should know,” Rick replied smugly. “You gave 'em to me, back at the crawler bay, when you carried Sasha in.”
“And you’ve been carrying them all this time?”
Hosato vaguely remembered the incident, but was astounded the mechanic still had the documents in his possession after all they had been through.
“Yep,” Rick announced proudly. “Had 'em stashed inside my shirt. The guards who searched me at Ravensteel looked at 'em but didn’t figure they were important enough to take away from me.”
“For the benefit of the unenlightened,” Sasha interrupted sarcastically, “what is it you’ve got there?”
“It’s a copy of the most recent entries to the computer-monitor file,” Rick informed her. “The guys were going over it at the end there, trying to figure out what went wrong and how to fix it.”
“I hate to admit this,” Hosato said, “but I don’t know what that is or what it means.”
Rick looked a bit distressed, but answered him. “Everything that’s input into the central control computer passes through the monitor file… every program change, addition, request, everything. If we’re right and Turner did something that created a new logic system in the robots, there should be a record of it here.”
“I can’t help you there,” Sasha interjected. “What I don’t know about computers could fill a library.”
“Same here,” Rick admitted. “I was hoping one of you…”
His voice trailed off as he noticed Hosato’s frenzied activity. Hosato had scavenged a pencil from the depths of the bar and was busily scribbling something on the back of one of the sheets.
“Rick!” he said, handing the mechanic the paper. “Set a course for those coordinates.”
“Where are we going?” Rick asked, studying the sheet.
“To visit a friend of mine,” Hosato replied. “He builds and programs custom robots. Let’s see if he can decipher this mess.”
“Now you’re talking,” Rick said, brightening noticeably.
“Whoa. Don’t get your hopes up yet,” Hosato cautioned. “We don’t know yet if he’ll be able to find anything in that file. Even if he can, we’ve got to come up with a plan of action we all agree with, and that includes… say, where is James, anyway?”
Rick smiled and pointed to the back of the lounge. James was curled up on one of the luxurious sofas, fast asleep. Cradled in his arms like a teddy bear were Hosato’s dueling epees.
“I think the kid has the right idea,” Rick observed. “We could all do with some sleep. There are half a dozen cabins there in back. Take your pick.” “What about you?” Hosato asked. “I’ll be doing the same as soon as I get this new course fed into the autopilot.” He disappeared into the pilot’s compartment once more.
Hosato found himself staring at James’s sleeping form.
“Leave him,” Sasha said softly at his elbow. “He’ll be all right there, and he’ll wake up if you try to move him.”
“I guess you’re right,” Hosato acknowledged. “You know, Rick is quite a guy.”
“Qualified to operate and repair a wide variety of heavy machinery, including space transports shows a high degree of dedication when it comes to completing assignments, but displays little or no leadership ability seems content in current position not currently considered for advancement,” Sasha recited. “You know, until all this, he was just another personnel report on my desk. Funny how you can know a person so well and not really know nun at all.”
“I know what you mean,” Hosato admitted. “Until things blew up back there, he was just another person to pump for information. Now…”
His voice trailed off into silence.
“It must be a lonely way to…”
Sasha started to lay a hand on his arm as she spoke and succeeded only in waving her stump in the air. She stared at it for a moment, then turned away abruptly.
“Sasha…” Hosato said, moving to her side.
“Leave me alone!” she whispered, turning to keep her back to him.
“Sasha. It doesn’t matter,” he insisted.
“I don’t want your pity,” she snarled, and started to stalk away.
Hosato caught her before she had taken three steps.
“I’m not offering pity,” he said softly. “I’m offering me. Now, if you’re not interested, say so. But don’t blame it on your arm.”
Then she was in his arms, crying against his chest. He gently walked her down the corridor to the cabins.
What the Hungarian’s real name was, nobody knew. He used a wide array of aliases when signing various documents, and in conversation, he responded to a variety of nicknames.
Some said he broke off a brilliant career with the corporations to start his own business; others, that the corporations, stole his business away from him and he started a new one out of spite. The Hungarian had a small shop in a teeming city on a backwater planet — but his reputation was known in that part of the galaxy.
Whether he started rich or if he built his business to the point where he was wealthy was inconsequential. What mattered was the current situation, and currently he could and did pick and choose his jobs, accepting only those that were immensely expensive or particularly challenging.
Hosato had been referred to the Hungarian when searching for someone to build a fencing robot for him, and the two had become fast friends. Not that they were particularly close, for Hosato’s profession did not allow confidants. Because of that, the Hungarian’s stoic refusal to ask questions of a personal nature endeared him to Hosato more than anything else. As an example, they had known each other for five years after Suzi’s construction was complete before Hosato had hesitantly mentioned to the Hungarian that his talents included sabotage and that he would appreciate any business that could be steered his way. When this fact was formally mentioned, the Hungarian immediately produced not one, but three clients for Hosato. Apparently he had had his suspicions all along, probably from the “special construction” that went into Suzi, but had refrained from seeking clarification or confirmation until Hosato broached the subject himself.
Hosato was reluctant to face him with the news of Suzi’s demise, but he needn’t have worried. The Hungarian greeted them upon their arrival with his usual expansive welcome and was introduced to Sasha, Rick, and James without once commenting on Suzi’s absence. In fact, the subject was not even broached until later over drinks, after they had briefed the Hungarian on the events at Mc. Crae and the problem at hand.
When they had finished their tale, he sat silently puffing on his pipe for several minutes before responding.
“You know, Hosato,” he said at last, “if yon hadn’t brought along a brace of witnesses for your yarn, I’dd think this was all an elaborate excuse for losing one of the best robots I’ve ever built.”
“I know it sounds impossible—” Sasha began.
