The Rod of Light

5

Stainless steel shutters clicked back. Blank at first, construct eyes began to glow.

Once again the hour was shortly after dawn, Jasperodus having set his brain’s waking timer at twenty-four hours. He lay unmoving for several minutes, doggedly staring at the ballooning truck tyre in front of him and aware that any movement on his part could be fatal.

The singing of birds was the only sound he could hear. Very, very slowly, he lifted his head a few inches. Cautiously, he sat up.

Then he clambered to his feet amid the junkyard of the defeated robot army. Circuits fused by rampaging beams, innards crushed and strewn by Borgor hammers, three thousand constructs lay jumbled together on the ground, with all their equipment. The Borgor camp had departed, leaving behind only those vehicles and machinery wrecked in the short battle. It was certain that the robot township Jasperodus had left two days before was either now being or had already been annihilated, and its previously fleeing refugees were being hunted down.

He picked up a portable beamer and thumbed the stud. Nothing happened; the weapon was broken.

He threw it down. He had nearly extricated himself from the shambles when he was, for a moment, alarmed to see a slim robot, light grey in colour, walking from the east in measured strides towards him. Jasperodus telescoped his vision and was surprised to recognise the long-faced construct with amber eyes who earlier had tried to persuade him to join the Gargan Work. The other robot stopped as Jasperodus made for him.

He looked past Jasperodus at the battlefield. ‘Extraordinary,’ he murmured. ‘Are there any more survivors?’

‘I sincerely doubt it,’ Jasperodus said, glancing ill-humouredly behind him.

‘I admit I had not expected our defeat to be so absolute.’

‘The Borgors used a new weapon against us,’ Jasperodus told him. ‘But what are you doing here? I thought you had gone to Gargan.’

‘Yes, that is where I am going.’ The construct turned his amber eyes directly to him. ‘The truth is I have not yet abandoned hope of taking you with me, Jasperodus. It occurred to me that after the battle you might be more amenable to my suggestion, assuming you survived. So I followed the attack force at a politic distance, then lay down in the grass to follow events as best I could.’ Sadly he shook his head. ‘What desolation! It will be otherwise once the Gargan Work is successful.’

‘You saw the Borgors leave, then? Which way did they go?’

‘They set off towards the township three hours ago. A squadron of their aircraft has also been in action.’

‘Indeed?’ Jasperodus scanned the sky. ‘We are somewhat overexposed to aircraft out here.’

‘Oh, they will be too busy pursuing our fellow-citizens to bother about us at present,’ the robot assured him. ‘For my part I shall travel to the west and will soon be out of their path of sweep. And may I point out that you probably have no more attractive an option? There is little to keep you here, with the battle lost and the township destroyed. I sense, moreover, that your true interest does indeed lie with Gargan.’

When Jasperodus did not answer the robot shifted his feet and added, with a note of humour, ‘Gargan might even take your arrival as yet another confirmation of his destiny. Is it not miraculous that only you came through the battle unscathed? Perhaps the invisible hand of Alumnabrax protects you!’

‘Or of Mekkan!’ Jasperodus laughed. ‘You assess my situation correctly, at any rate. I may as well come with you, and see what this Gargan has to say. Perhaps I can persuade him of the uselessness of his mission.’

‘By no means, Jasperodus. It is you who will be persuaded.’

‘We shall see. Do we travel far?’

‘It is a fair distance to the project. About four weeks’ journey, on foot. En route we may perhaps call at the estate of Count Viss, who is friendly to our cause.’

‘Count Viss? But I know of him,’ Jasperodus said in puzzlement. ‘Surely he cannot still be alive?’

Despite his earlier disclaimers, the robot was now himself glancing nervously at the sky and seemed not to hear the question. ‘Come, Jasperodus. Let us be on our way before the aircraft return.’

‘As we are to be companions, tell me your name.’

‘I am known as Cricus. We go this way.’

Cricus pointed a lank arm to the north-east. With the sun casting long shadows before them, they set off in silence across the plain.