new designs to think through, no prototypes to test and evaluate. Had the plant ever operated on a regular basis, or had it always been, as Arthur had said, a showcase, a world fair (universe fair?) exhibit? No matter; it was silent now, and would be, possibly, for the rest of its existence. Or until more candidates arived on Microcosmos. If any. I wondered about that. Were we indeed the first? Nobody had said for sure. When were more intrepid explorers expected? Week after next… or in two million years? But time wasn't an element on Microcosmos. It didn't matter. They would come, surely.
I walked through the quiet and the shadows. There was a dry, clean, industrial smell in the air. A shaft of light from a lone high window speared the gloom, and where its end touched the shiny green floor, an array of monoliths sat in a pool of sunlight. On banks of control instruments, a few lights glowed-all this equipment on standby, ready at a moment's notice to come to life, to work, to get out the product, fill the quota, produce.
I stopped and put what used to be Sam's key close to my lips. It was now just a computer terminal, but it could be used as a walkie-talkie as well.
'Intruder still stationary;' Sam said.
'Where are you?'
'I'm just about to cut through the machine shop that abuts on the north wing of the Mirror Array. Once I get through there, I'll be practically on top of him. John should be coming through the Diffusion Ring complex now.'
'Check. Be careful.'
'Will do. Over and out.'
I walked on. Robot arms, poised to do someone's bidding, reached out of shadow at me. They would work at blinding speed to make anybody's dream a reality, if they were given the right instructions. I passed a mobile worker-robot-a subsystem engineering supervisor, probably-dormant, standing by, waiting silently at its station. Farther on, a tall shadow in an alcove startled me-but it was only a maintenance robot. The key's call light blinked. I answered.
'Jake, intruder is moving. Repeat, intruder is moving.'
'Acknowledged,' I said. 'Which way?'
'Toward you.'
'Great. I'm keeping the channel open.'
I proceeded slowly, staying in shadow and moving as silently as possible. I stopped, listened. Nothing. I moved on, pausing every few meters, ears cocked.
Suddenly, a beeping tone. Somewhere behind me. Then another. A faint whirring sound. I froze. No. Just some machine clearing its circuits, draining off a buildup of static charge. Besides, wrong direction. He should be coming from the north. I wondered where John was.
The key again. 'Still moving toward the machine shop,' Sam informed me. 'Where are you?'
'I ducked into the little workshop or whatever it is adjacent to it.'
'Wait a minute… here it is on the map. Okay. Hell, looks like the intruder is vectoring there.'
'Then that's where I'll get him,' I whispered.
'Stay put until you see him. He'll have to pass by the door if he wants to get to the showroom.'
I waited, watching, listening.
A few minutes later, Sam called again. 'Anything?'
'No,' I said whispering. 'No sign.'
'He should be on top of you:'
I waited a few more minutes, then got impatient. 'Are you sure about intruder's position?' I asked.
'Yes.'
I looked around. Silence formed a wall around me. 'I'm moving to get a better angle on the doorway.'
I crawled down a narrow aisle between two gigantic machines. There was only one door to the place, the one I'd come in. Poking my head into the clear, I brought the machine pistol up and aimed. I wouldn't fire when I saw him, but when he passed, I'd move out and follow him. He wouldn't get away. If he got anywhere near the truck, Sam would burn him down. Good. We had all the angles covered. We'd thought of everything.
Wrong. I hadn't thought that there might be an another entrance to the workshop. And there was one, high up in the wall, through which a suspended ramp passed. The ramp continued its way into the shop, winding amongst the rafters, overhead beams, and the clutter of suspended machine tools. I craned my neck. A ladder. There was a ladder connecting it to a lower ramp, this one passing directly overhead.
I sprang to my feet, tried to run… too late. Something slammed into my back and sent me sprawling. The pistol skittered across the floor and disappeared under a workbench.
I rolled, sat up. I was cornered, nowhere to run. Twmll stood blocking the way. He wielded his ceremonial dagger, with its black curving blade and jade-green hilt.
'Jake-frrriend,' he trilled. 'Sacrrred Quarrry. I bid you grrreeting.'
I got up slowly. I had no weapon, but I would have to fight him. This would be the second time I would be forced to fight a largely ceremonial battle with a Reticulan hunter. I had won the first round, defeating two opponents, Twrrrll's companions, in hand-to-hand combat. I didn't think I would be so lucky this time. He could just shoot me, of course. His gun was hanging from the leather harness he wore over his thorax. But that wouldn't be honorable. He had to do me in with the dagger for it to be an honorable kill. Rather, the usual technique was to hamstring the quarry, then gut it while it still lived. Vivisect it. Flay it alive. The more the victim screamed, the prettier the sacrifice.
'Long have I stalked you, Jake-frrriend,' Twrrrll said. 'The trrrail was long and arrrduous. Many times the spoorrr was lost, then found again.'
I looked past him, hoping to see John at the door. No such luck. Where the hell was that tall skinny black guy?
'Okay, Twr-' I spat. 'Twer… Twrrrll.' It was hard to say his name under any circumstances, let alone when I was scared witless. Never could trill the R just right. But then, I was always terrible at languages. 'Okay. I just want you to tell me one thing.'
'Yes?'
'Why do you do this?'
'Hunt? Because the… you would say, the blood. The blood tells one.'
'But you're civilized. Intelligent. Very intelligent. You speak our languages well, while we can barely manage yours. You have a technological civilization, advanced science, the whole bit: Why can't you overcome the need to kill in this manner?'
The big alien took a step forward, moving his huge bare feet slowly. 'Humans have no need?'
'Well…' It was hard to concentrate on winning debating points.
'Do not humans kill theirrr own kind? This is something we almost neverrr do.'
'Bullshit.'
'A denial? No, it is not usually necessary.'
Maybe he was right. Reticulan societies were very rigidly stratified and very stable, though top-heavy with useless nobility, of which Twrrrll was probably a sterling example.
'Your race is very unpopular. You spread ill will, resentment toward your people.'
'That is the way it has been, and must be.'
He took another step forward. The smell of his pheromones-turpentine and almonds-filled my nostrils. I gagged. There was nothing to do but rush him, try to duck through those thin legs of his. No possibility of tangling with him; his strength was phenomenal.
He stepped forward.
'You have become the most Sacmed Quarry of all, Jakefrrriend. Thrree times the nets caught you, thrree times you fought and escaped. The hunted has vanquished the hunterrr. So be it.'
I stood there with my mouth open. The alien was offering the dagger to me, presenting it to me.
'Take this weapon. It now belongs to you. You have surrvived, and I have failed. I ask only that you turrrn it against me, hunted against the huntem. It is the only honorrr of which I may still be worrrthy.'
I overcame my shock and took the dagger.
'Does this mean I won't have to fight you?' I asked.
'The time for combat is past. Time now to end the hunt, and the hunterrr.' He crossed his forelimbs; it was a
