Chapter 12

The Talking Asteroid

The ship that approached Dr. Loxner's private asteroid was smaller than Captain Fortier

would have liked. Knowing that Loxner was deeper into the conspiracy than had

previously been suspected, he'd wanted to invade the hideaway with a full contingent of

Imperial Marines. Fortier knew how well fortified a rock in space could be.

Duke Etienne talked him out of it. "We want information, not a war," he pointed out. "The

Navy could pound that rock to pieces, but we won't learn anything more from that. If we

go as unofficial individuals, Loxner will feel less threatened and we may get more out of

him."

"But we'll be at his mercy," Fortier protested.

"You needn't worry about that," Etienne assured him. "I've got a few handy tricks of my

own."

Etienne, Helena, and Fortier were the only people in the spaceship's cabin as it neared

Loxner's private asteroid. As they came within fifty kilometers their radio crackled to life.

"The asteroid you are approaching is private property.

Please change course to avoid trespassing, in accordance with Imperial Statue

6817.52."

Etienne was prepared for that, and broadcast back, "This is a former patient of Dr.

Loxner's, Gregori Ivanov. I must speak with Dr. Loxner about some surgery he

performed on me twenty years ago."

There was a long silence at the other end before a response came back. "There is no

record of any patient by that name."

"I, uh, didn't have this name when Dr. Loxner worked on me. It's been changed several

times since then. It's inadvisable to broadcast my former name over an unsecured radio

channel.

Another long pause. Then: "You are given permission to land. Please follow the beacon

to the landing site." Etienne acknowledged the command and did as requested, landing

his ship in the small crater whose floor had been cleared for visitors to the asteroid.

There was no other ship in sight, not even one for Dr. Loxner's own use. The trio

wondered whether Loxner ever left his asteroid, or whether he simply had supplies

brought in to him at intervals.

A long, thick metal tube snaked out of the crater wall and fastened itself to the small

ship's airlock so the visitors could walk through the passenger tube into the heart of the

asteroid without having to don their spacesuits. The far end of the tube led through a

door to a small anteroom with plain walls and no furnishings. A camera mounted in an

upper corner monitored the proceedings. The artificial gravity within the asteroid was set

at a standard one gee.

"Permission was given only for Gregori Ivanov," a voice said through a speaker in front of

them. "Who are the other two people'?"

"This is my son Pavel and my daughter-in-law Lianna.

They go everywhere with me these days. I have no secrets from them. They are no

security risks."

"You are carrying stun-pistols. They must be checked at the door. No weapons are

allowed within the asteroid." An empty drawer extended itself from the wall on their left.

"Of course," Etienne said, quickly removing his gun from its holster. Fortier and Helena

exchanged worried glances, but reluctantly followed the Duke's lead.

When they had put their guns in the proffered drawer, which then withdrew back into the

wall, the voice spoke to them again. "Now that we are no longer broadcasting on an

unsecured channel, you must state your previous name and the nature of your business."

"I'm sorry," Etienne said firmly. "I can only divulge that information to Dr. Loxner face to

face."

"The doctor sees no one these days."

"He will see me," Etienne insisted. "I'm not here to seek a favor this time, but to return

one. I have information vital to his continued safety. Certain security organizations know

about his current activities. If he doesn't see me, I won't answer for the consequences."

Another pause from the voice, the longest yet. Finally, in measured tones, it said, "You

may enter."

A door opened to their right and they found themselves walking down a long corridor

carved from the naked asteroidal rock. The air was breathable but oddly stale, as though

it had been sealed in a crypt away from any life. Their footsteps made dead echoes

against the sterile walls. The silence here went beyond that of a tranquil retreat; it had a

leaden, oppressive quality that bespoke moldering corpses. The overall feeling was not

of someone's vacation home, but of a long unused mausoleum.

There were cameras all along the way to monitor their progress, and closed doors at

intervals shutting them out of rooms that looked interesting. The dim lighting came from

fluorescent panels on the ceiling. The light panels, the doors, and the cameras were the

only indications of humanity in the lifeless hallway.

Etienne tried opening one of the doors along the way, but it was locked against his

efforts. "Don't try to go where you're not invited," the voice warned them sternly. "You'll

be told which rooms you may enter."

"Sorry," the Duke said. "I was just looking for the lavatory. "

"Third door on the left," the voice said coldly. "From now on please make your wishes

clear. You may not survive a second impropriety."

"Thank you." Etienne went to the indicated door and used the facilities provided because

he didn't want to appear a liar. Not yet.

After the short interruption, he and his companions continued down the dead corridor until

a door on their right slid open and they were instructed to enter the room beyond. They

found themselves in a chamber, somewhat larger than the anteroom, with several badly

upholstered armchairs scattered about the slate floor. The walls were a sterile white,

bare of decoration. Little compromise had been made to human comforts; the room was

hardly more hospitable than the anteroom they'd come through. It reminded Etienne of

nothing so much as a poorly furnished doctor's waiting room.

"Please be seated," the voice said. The trio sat and waited.

A large triscreen lowered itself from one corner and lit up to present the

three-dimensional image of Dr. Loxner. He was somewhat older than Etienne

remembered him, a touch more gray in the beard and hair, a few more lines on the thin,

wrinkled face, but it was definitely the same person. He still wore that identifying

necklace about his neck.

"What is the important news you have for me?" he asked, looking at Etienne.

"I must see you in person."

The image smiled. "That's impossible." "I only deal with men, not their images."

"In this case, tovarishch, I'm afraid you'll have to. My image is all that exists of me

anymore. The corporeal form you knew as my body has long since rotted away. Only my

mind survives."

Etienne d'Alembert wrinkled his brow. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Of course you don't. Few people ever would. A brilliant colleague, the late Dr. Immanuel

Rustin, and I developed the procedures for scanning a brain and recreating its memory

patterns in electronic form. The patterns of memories and synaptical connections is what

makes up a person's mind. The memory pattern-the mind-can then be transferred and

imposed on any other synaptical device, like a computer."

Etienne's eyes widened as the importance of what the doctor had said became clear to

him. "You're talking about a form of immortality," he said in hushed tones.

"Thank you," the image said, smiling. "I always thought of it in those terms. It's nice to

have it recognized by others. "

"But this could be the biggest development since the discovery of subspace," Helena

interrupted. "Why are you hiding it?"

"I published a few tentative reports discussing general principles. They were greeted with

raging apathy. Not even vehement denials, mind you; I would have welcomed that. A

good, hot controversy always sparks the greatest advances in medicine. But my

colleagues weren't even that interested. I decided not to bother with them any further. I

had what I needed; let them flounder about on their own."

"You mean you've got the secret people have been seeking since the days of cavemen,

and you've only applied it to yourself?" Fortier asked unbelievingly.

"Oh, there was one other about twenty years ago. She appreciated what I could do. She

had me build her an entire new body, physically perfect, superhumanly strong, and her

mind was transferred into that. But she was a very special case indeed, a unique

individual."

"Where's the body you created for yourself?" Etienne asked. "Why can't I meet that?"

"Oh, you do think small, don't you?" the image of Dr. Loxner laughed. "Why should I

confine my mind to a single, limited body when I can expand it to suit my whim? My

friend thought the same way you do. I tried to tell her a computer would give her greater

scope, but she said she already had a computer and she wanted a body for maneu-

verability. Personally, I think it was simple vanity, but who am I to judge her?"

"Who was this woman?" Helena asked.

Dr. Loxner ignored her question. "Instead of building myself a humanoid body, I built

myself an entire world. My mind rests in a computer that runs everything around you. In a

very real sense, I am this asteroid. I control the power, the lights, all the functions you've

witnessed. So you see, you are talking to me face to face. I am everywhere you look.

You are within me. I am all around you, holding you, controlling your environment. You

can't escape me."

The image chuckled playfully. "Why else do you think I allowed you entrance so easily?

Do you think I was really fooled by your excuses and lies? Do you think I wasn't told that

people were asking questions about me back on Durward? Do you think I don't recognize

Helena von Wilmenhorst? Because I'm not distracted by the needs of a physical body I

have more time to consider the facts, not less. Because my mental patterns are part of a

computer network, I think faster, not slower. I am immortal, I can't die. I don't fear puny

creatures like you."

"I see," said Duke Etienne calmly, rubbing his right thumb. "Then perhaps you won't mind

if we take the information you've given us and return to Durward."

"I said I didn't fear you, rovarishch. I never said I was stupid. No, the three of you will

never return to repeat what I've told you today. I control all access here, and I refuse to

let you leave."

To emphasize the point, the door to this waiting room slammed shut with a loud bang.

Etienne refused to be upset. He didn't have to try the door to know it would be locked. "I

see, doctor. Do you intend to keep us prisoners here in this single room?"

"It might be interesting to watch you starve to death. I do have faster means at my

disposal, however, if that proves too slow."

It was Duke Etienne's turn to smile. "I'm afraid you're a little too late for that, doctor. You

see, you're not the only one among us who's a mixture of man and machine."

"What do you mean?" For the first time, there was an expression of doubt on the image's

face.

In answer, the Duke held up his right hand. "I lost my real hand in an altercation some

years ago, and I replaced it with a better one. You know about prosthetics; I'm sure you

can appreciate the workmanship that went into this. The thumb is a radio transmitter. Our

entire conversation has been beamed back to my ship. The three of us didn't come

alone; I had some friends hiding in the hold. I've just sent the signal to come in, so they

should be joining us shortly. "

Dr. Loxner's image froze momentarily. From his sensors scattered about the asteroid, he

learned quickly that Duke Etienne was telling the truth. Out of the ship's tiny hold

swarmed a small army of Circus people led by Rick d'Alembert, the leader of the

wrestlers, and Luise deForrest. They had been cramped in their narrow confines for sev-

eral hours, and were eager for action. All were clad in heavy body armor; all were ready

to face any menace the asteroid could offer. They did not come down the passenger

tube from the ship, fearing it might be booby-trapped. Instead, they came out the

emergency hatch and used power tools to work their way to the asteroid's interior,

through auxiliary entrances used by the workmen who originally hollowed out the space

rock.

"You'll pay for this," the image said coldly, and disappeared from the triscreen.

Fortier's sensitive nostrils caught the faint wisp of an unpleasantly sharp odor. "Hold your

breath!" he yelled as warning, and pulled out his tunic to hold over his face as further

protection against the poisonous gas seeping into the room.

Etienne d'Alembert turned and pointed his right forefinger at the locked door. From the

fingertip came a beam of blaster fire, searing in its intensity. It burned through the locking

mechanism of the door in a matter of seconds, and the trio lost no time escaping to the

bare rock hallway beyond.

But there seemed to be no safety here, either. A full-fledged storm was raging through

the corridor, a high piercing whistle accompanied by buffeting winds that blew them

around. "What's happening?" Helena yelled, trying to make herself heard over the sound

of the winds.

The Duke raced back toward the anteroom, and the others followed quickly. His voice

sounded very far away as he said, "Loxner's letting all the air out of here. We have to get

back to the ship before we die."

They raced to the anteroom at the end of the corridor, only to find the outside door

sealed shut. The air was getting very thin now, and each breath was a fresh stab in the

chest. There was never quite enough air to suck in, and it all wanted to go out much too

fast.

"Stand back," the Duke said. "I'm going to blow that door-and if Loxner disconnected the

passenger tube, there'll be vacuum beyond it. We can survive in vacuum for a very brief

period of time. The airlock of our ship is perhaps a dozen meters away, and there's

almost no gravity outside on the surface. As soon as you're out there, make a jump for

the airlock. Bon chance!"

The Duke pushed them back a short distance from the doorway, unscrewed the middle

finger of his right hand, and hurled it with all his strength at the sealed door. The hatch

blew open with a shattering explosion, shaking the ground beneath them and filling the

ever-thinning air with a thick cloud of dust and debris.

The trio in the hallway did not hesitate. The escaping air pulled the dust out into space,

and they ran after it into the crater that served as the asteroid's landing field. The artifi-

cial gravity ended as they passed the threshold; in desperation they leaped toward the

open airlock of their ship.

Etienne d'Alembert had said they could survive in vacuum, but he hadn't said that it would

be pleasant. Almost immediately there was a pounding in Helena's ears and her eyes felt

as though they were going to bulge beyond their sockets. Her upper lip felt wet and

sticky as blood began to drip from her nose and bubble as it hit the vacuum. There was a

shock of cold on her skin as her sweat evaporated into space.

As she sailed toward the ship she could tell she'd miscalculated her leap. She would hit

the hull just below the bottom of the airlock and probably bounce back down to the

ground. She tried to readjust her course, but there was nothing to push against; all she

did was exert herself and use up more of her lungs' precious oxygen supply.

She cushioned her impact against the ship with her forearms and tried to grab the

smooth surface so she wouldn't simply bounce directly back into space; that would mean

death within a few minutes. She managed to let the hull absorb most of her momentum,

but could not gain a complete grip. She slid slowly down the side of the ship toward the

crater's floor.

She landed with a bump and tried hard to scramble to her feet. It was difficult to see

now; everything seemed filtered through a red haze that she realized was blood, which

had now begun bubbling through her tear ducts as well. Her eyeballs felt unbearably dry,

and she kept blinking to moisten them; the liquid evaporated the instant she opened her

eyelids again.

Her chest was burning with intense pain. She'd been unable to get a deep breath before

running out into the vacuum, and of course there was nothing here to breathe. What air

she'd had in her lungs was rapidly turning to carbon dioxide, but she knew if she exhaled

it there'd be nothing else to take in again.

Her strength failed her and she fell to the ground again. Reality was becoming a painful

red haze, cold outside and burning inside at one and the same time. She lay miserable on

the rough ground, waiting for death to claim her and frustrated at the way her life was

ending.

Then she felt a pair of strong hands grasping her under her arms and lifting her up.

Through weakly fluttering eyelids she could make out the form of Captain Fortier, looking

at least as horrible as she felt. Blood was bubbling out of his eyes, ears, nose, and

mouth, and he, too, was blinking rapidly to keep his eyeballs moist. After lifting her

upright, he gathered his strength and pushed her upward toward the airlock hatch once

more. Helena floated up with agonizing slowness, her lungs threatening to burst with pain

at any second.

As she reached the airlock level, Etienne d'Alembert reached out and grabbed her,

pulling her into the chamber and holding her tight to preserve her body warmth. A

moment later they were joined by Captain Fortier, who palmed the closing switch the

instant he was past the threshold.

The outer hatch slid quickly shut and air began to pump rapidly into the crowded chamber

with the most wonderful hissing sound Helena had ever heard in her life. She let out the

very painful breath she'd been holding, gasping and gulping at the still-thin air in a

desperate attempt to recharge her body after its horrible ordeal. Her companions were

reacting the same way, and for a while the only activity in the crowded airlock was

shivering and gasping for breath.

Helena's spasms of shivering brought her body floating into contact with Fortier, and the

two young people clung to one another. As the shock of their exposure began to subside,

they became more aware of their sensations, but they did not stop holding each other.

They looked deeply into each other's blood-smeared faces, reading the other's soul and

matching it to their own. Suddenly, realizing how ludicrous they looked, Helena began

laughing. Fortier looked startled for a moment, then was caught up by the sound's

infectiousness. Soon both young people were hugging each other tightly and overcome

by a bout of hysterical laughter.

Etienne d'Alembert witnessed this bizarre behavior with an experienced eye. A wise,

kindly smile warmed his face, but he made no comment. None was really needed.

A couple of hours later, when they were thoroughly recovered and cleaned up from their

ordeal, the trio donned spacesuits and returned to the asteroid. The battle, if such it

could be called, had long since been over. This asteroid had not been built for all-out

defense, and the onslaught of armored d'Alemberts had quite overwhelmed it. The only

injury on the invading side was when one of the wrestlers accidentally tripped over a

piece of debris and knocked into another armored figure, breaking the second man's

arm. Beyond that, the armor protected the d'Alembert forces from anything Loxner could

throw at them.

Loxner himself had not fared so well. As the attackers breached one line of defense after

another and approached the central computer where his mentality was stored, the

former surgeon became desperate. He could not die in the conventional sense, but he

had a great fear of being captured and interrogated by SOTE experts. As the armored

invaders broke into the room, Dr. Loxner activated a special program, erasing all

memory from his computer. A moment later, there was no trace of the man who claimed

to have cheated death.

Although all official records vanished with the mind of Dr. Loxner, there was some

physical evidence left behind. Several of the rooms within the asteriod turned out to be

laboratories and workrooms where the doctor could continue manufacturing robots. His

computer mind manipulated remote sensors, working with more precision than a human

being ever could.

The main assembly room showed signs of recent activity. There were many pictures of

Elsa Helmund and Herman Stanck in various poses. Some of the pictures were taken at

recent events. These were clearly the images Loxner had used to construct duplicates of

the late Police Commissioner and Sector Marshal. Fortier was particularly excited at this

discovery.

"Some of the evidence I discovered in your father's computer," he told Helena when they

returned to their ship, "indicated that he and Stanck had been working in the conspiracy

for many years, so Stanck should have been a robot all that time. The evidence here is

that both the Stanck and Helmund robots were built within the last few months. As far as

I'm concerned, that's enough to throw the previous data into doubt. I don't know why, but

it looks now as though someone went to great lengths to plant evidence framing your

father."

"But it's all too late," Helena said weakly, shaking her head sadly from side to side.

"I never meant him any harm. I was just doing my job, trying to defend the Empire."

Fortier held Helena's shoulders tightly and looked directly into her eyes. "Please," he

whispered. "It's very important to me that you believe that.

"I ... I do." Helena's voice was barely audible. She lowered her head and buried her face

against his chest. "It's just so unfair, so ... so. . . ."

Then the sobbing became uncontrollable, and Captain Paul Fortier stood holding and

comforting her for the next hour and beyond.