Though rare, Hoggles had encountered combat variants before and knew what they could do. Though only half as strong as he was, the other variant was not only twice as fast but armed with a pistol. The heavy fi?gured he could absorb four or fi?ve bullets and still be able to close with his opponent, but then what? Would he be able to rip the bastard’s canine head off?
Or would the cumulative effect of his wounds pull him down? There was no way to be sure.
But Shaz had already completed the very same calculus and, having no particular desire to kill the heavy, lowered his weapon. The combat variant’s smile revealed two rows of extremely white teeth. “Good afternoon,” he said politely.
“We haven’t met, not formally, but I’ve been following you and your friends for quite some time now.”
Hoggles wrapped and rewrapped his thick sausagelike fi?ngers around the war hammer’s smooth shaft. “Who are you?”
the heavy demanded hoarsely. “One of those techno people?”
“Yes, you could say that,” Shaz admitted breezily. “Which brings me to the purpose of my visit. The jacket you’re wearing . . . Would that constitute a computer called Logos?”
Not being sure of what was taking place, the AI had been silent up until then. But now, having given up on his plan to eliminate Sogol, the computer saw what might be an opportunity to rid himself of Lysander’s self-righteous fl?unkies and still take control of Socket. “Yes, I’m Logos,”
the computer answered loudly. “Are you a member of the Techno Society?”
“I am,” Shaz answered simply. “More than that, I was sent here to get you.”
“Excellent!” the AI replied enthusiastically. “If you would be so kind as to kill this fool—we can depart immediately.”
“You’re welcome to give it a try,” Hoggles growled, and charged straight ahead. Though slow by his standards, the heavy was faster than Shaz expected him to be, and the combat variant barely managed to avoid a blow from the war hammer before spinning away. Although Shaz had the pistol, he couldn’t use it on the heavy’s torso without punching holes in Logos, a surefi?re way to send Tepho into a homicidal rage. That left the possibility of a head shot, a leg shot, or hand-to-hand combat.
But the decision was suddenly made for him when Hoggles threw the war hammer. The weapon hit Shaz in the shoulder and sent the handgun fl?ying. Worse yet, the blow left the combat variant’s right arm completely numb and forced the functionary to back away. His body shimmered, but was still partially visible, as Shaz slipped on a pool of blood.
Seeing his chance, and certain of victory, Hoggles uttered a basso war cry as he thundered across the intervening space. The two men collided, the combat variant felt a sudden stab of fear, and was fumbling for his knife when Logos entered the battle. Although the computer didn’t have arms to fi?ght with, he had control over his highly mutable “body,” which Hoggles continued to wear.
Suddenly, Hoggles felt the jacket start to shrink around him. The heavy produced a roar of outrage, released the grip that he had established on his opponent’s throat, and began to remove the traitorous garment. But it was too late by then. The AI had been transformed into what amounted to a straitjacket. Hoggles found himself unable to move his arms, realized what that meant, and tried to back away. Shaz saw the opportunity and took it. The last thing Hoggles saw was a canine grin, a fl?ash of steel, and the blinding sun. Then he was down, his blood soaking the object he was supposed to protect, his lips forming her name. Moments later the heavy was somewhere else, in a place far removed from the physical plane, and the family lost so many years before was gathering to greet him.
Norr felt a sense of hopelessness as the wings carried Hasa across the abyss toward the platform that hovered beyond. And now, with nothing to distract her, the sensitive could see that the interior of the globe-shaped chamber was covered with what looked like a complicated map. A star map that illustrated the full glory of the empire Hios ruled prior to his descent into madness and his death at her hands. But that was before ancient sensors were tripped, the beams of sunlight began to converge on a single point, and gradually became brighter. There was no reaction at fi?rst, but that changed as tendrils of smoke began to emerge from leathery wings, the variants began to scream, and two of the warriors burst into fl?ames. The rest attempted to escape, but the beams of light followed wherever they went, killing the variants one at a time.
Hasa was falling by then, his arms windmilling uselessly as he tried to fl?y, only to fall facedown onto the platform below. Rebo watched in horror as the minder landed on the ancient lever and uttered a horrible scream as the bloodied handle emerged between his shoulder blades. Then, after a two-second pause, the device gradually gave way under the weight of Hasa’s dead body. “Uh-oh,” the runner said grimly. “I don’t know what that lever controls—but I have a hunch that we’re about to fi?nd out.”
Rebo’s words just hung there, and his prophecy went unfulfi?lled for a good fi?ve seconds, before the antigrav generator located in the base of the pyramid suddenly went off-line. Rebo and Norr experienced a momentary sense of weightlessness as the now-unsupported structure fell fi?fteen feet to the desert fl?oor. Then, with nothing to hang on to, the two of them fell. The runner made what amounted to a crash landing, while Norr landed on her feet and allowed her knees to accept the shock. Having added more bruises to his still-growing collection, the runner was delighted to discover that none of his bones were broken as the sensitive helped pull him up onto his feet.
But, while the two of them were all right, the emperor’s mummifi?ed body had not fared as well. In fact, as Rebo peered down from the gallery above, he could see pieces of the dismembered corpse scattered across the surface of the now-broken burial platform. “We’ve got to get down there!” the runner exclaimed. “You can imagine what’s taking place outside. . . . The entire pyramid will be crawling with looters twenty minutes from now.”
Norr was in complete agreement. Rebo freed the coil of rope that had been slung across his shoulders, secured one end to the curved railing, and tossed the rest over the side.
“I’ll go fi?rst,” Norr volunteered, and was already lowering herself over the side before the runner could object. Then, once her feet touched the fl?oor, it was Rebo’s turn to slide down the rope.
Norr had already completed a survey of the scattered body parts by then and was down on one knee when the runner arrived at her side. “There it is,” the sensitive declared, and pointed to the large, somewhat gaudy ring that still graced a badly withered hand. The green gemstone seemed to glow as if lit from within.
“Well,” Rebo responded, “let’s pull that sucker off his fi?nger and fi?nd our way out of here.”
Norr was about to respond when the entire pyramid began to vibrate, dust rained down from above, and the light began to fade. Rebo took hold of the hand. It was dry, leathery, and still attached to a skeletal forearm. His fi? rst attempt to strip the ring off the mummy’s bony fi?nger failed, so rather than attempt to work the piece of
