"And you didn't hear a thing?"
"Nothing." The pilot peered intently at Docchi, a barely visible
silhouette. "Well, I see you're getting smart these days. You should do
it all the time. Wear your arms. You look better that way even if you
can't use them. You look hundred per cent better, almost...." His voice
faded.
"Almost human?" asked Docchi kindly. "Nothing like, say a pair of legs
and a very good if slightly used spinal column with a lightning bug
face stuck on top? You didn't have this in mind?"
"I didn't say it. I'm used to you. I can't help it if you're overly
sensitive. I don't suppose it's your fault." His voice got higher.
"Anyway I told you to get going. You don't belong in here."
"But I don't want to go," said Docchi. "I'm not afraid of the dark. Are
you? I'm looking for some corner to brighten. Can I let a little light
in your life?"
"I'm supposed to report psycho talk, Docchi, and damned if I won't.
Personally I always suspected you. Get out of here before I take your
fake hand and drag you out."
"Now you've hurt my feelings," said Docchi reproachfully, stepping
nimbly away.
"Don't say you didn't try to make me mad," growled the pilot, lunging
after him. What he took hold of wasn't an imitation hand, delicately
molded and colored to duplicate skin. The hand he touched was real and
the muscles in it were more than a match for his own. It was surprise,
at first, that caused him to scream.
Docchi bent double and the dark figure on his back came over his head
like a knife from a sheath. The pilot was lifted off his feet and
slammed to the floor.
"Jordan," gurgled the pilot.
"It's me," said Jordan. He wrapped one arm around the pilot's throat
and clamped tight. With the other he felt for the toaster the pilot
still held but hadn't time to use. Effortlessly he tore it away and
hammered the man unconscious with the butt. He stopped just short of
smashing the skull. Docchi stood ineffectually by, kicking where he
could, but the action was fast and he had no arms.
But Jordan didn't need help. "Let there be light," he said when he was
finished, and there was--a feeble flickering illumination from Docchi.
Jordan balanced himself with his hands. He had a strong head and
massive powerful arms and shoulders. His body stopped below his chest,
there was no more. A round metal capsule contained his digestive
organs. Accidentals were indeed the odds and ends of creation, and of
Jordan one end was missing. But the part that remained made up for the
loss.
"Dead?" Docchi glanced down at the pilot.
Jordan rocked forward and listened for the heartbeat. "Nah," he said.
"I was going to clout him again but I remembered we can't afford to
kill anybody."
"See that you don't forget," said Docchi. He stifled an exclamation as
something coiled around his leg. Jumping forward he broke loose from
the thing that caught him.
"Repair robot," chuckled Jordan, looking around. "The place is lousy
with them."
Docchi blinked on and off in confusion and the robot rolled clumsily
toward him.
"Friendly creature," commented Jordan. "I think it wants to tinker with
your lighting system."
Docchi shook off the squat contrivance which, after it touched his
flesh, whirred puzzledly to itself. The job was beyond its capacity but
it didn't leave. "What'll we do with him?" asked Docchi, staring at the
pilot.
"He needs attention," said Jordan. "_Not_ the kind I gave him." He
balanced the toaster in his hand and burned a small hole in the little
wheeled monster. Extensibles emerged from the side of the machine and
carefully explored the damaged area. The extensibles slid back into
the machine and presently came out again with a small torch. It began
welding the hole.
Meanwhile Jordan pulled the unconscious man toward him. He leaned
against the machine for leverage and raised the inert pilot over his
head and laid him gently on the top flat surface. The reaction from
the robot was immediate. Another extensible reached out to investigate
the body. Jordan welded the joints solid. Three times he repeated the
process until the pilot was securely fastened to the robot.
"It doesn't know when it's licked," said Jordan. "It'll stay there
repairing itself until it's completely sound. However I can do
something about that." He adjusted the toaster beam to an imperceptible
thickness and deftly sliced through the control case, removing a
circular section. He thrust his hand inside and ripped out circuits.
"No further self-repair," he said cheerfully. "Docchi, I'll need your
help. I think it's a good idea to route the robot around the main dome
a few times before it delivers the pilot to the hospital. No point
giving ourselves away before we're ready."
Docchi bent over to help him and with some trouble the proper sequence
was implanted. The robot stood motionless as the newest commands
shuttled erratically through damaged but not inoperative circuits.
Finally it screeched softly and began to roll drunkenly away.
"Get on my back," said Docchi doggedly. "You know we've got to hurry."
"You're tired," said Jordan. "Half gravity or not, you can't carry me
farther." He worked swiftly and the harness that had supported him on
Docchi's back fell to the floor. "Stay down and listen," growled Jordan
as Docchi attempted to get up.