“I do not lightly give my body or my heart,” Bluette was saying to Hulk. The holo-scene had frozen while Stile and Sheen conversed; that was Sheen’s touch on the control. “You’re a funny man, with a fairy-tale history. Yet there is no doubt we are here, and surely we shall be interrogated. Will you tell our captor the same story?”
“I’m not sure. I am not the one our captor wants.” Hulk pondered. “Lady, I fear it will go hard with us, when our captor discovers the error. It would be better if he did not realize it.”
“Why?”
“Obviously there is something the captor wants of my friend, not merely his death. Otherwise the robots would simply have killed us, instead of bringing us here. Perhaps it is information that is wanted. Since kidnapping is also a crime, even when only serfs are involved, I will be disposed of so I can not tell my story to my own Employer.”
“Yes. I, too, will be useless as bait, after this. But I do not see what action we can take. If we disrupt the holo-pickup, the captor will know, and will send in—you said there were robots?”
“I saw two, as I recovered consciousness.”
“Who have the oxy-masks used to bring us here,” Blu-ette said, her eyes widening as she caught on. “What do you propose. Hulk?”
“First, I must get out of sight of the pickup. Second, you must address me as ‘Stile’ and describe me as a very small man—smaller than you. The story is the same—that is what he told you. He came to rescue you—and was him-self trapped.”
“I have that,” Bluette said. “Assuming for the nonce that your story is true, then this would be believed by another person from that frame. But how—“
“I will hide outside the force-Held, downtunnel. I can function for a limited time in external atmosphere, if I put my body in near-absolute state of rest, or trance-state. You try to lure the robots near the force-field, then get clear yourself. This will not be gentle.”
“I know.” Her tension hardly showed. She was, as Stile knew, the type to handle difficult situations with verve. “I am sorry to have met you like this. Hulk; you are a fascinating person.”
“Thank you. Say that again when I’m not trying to save our lives, and we’ll see where it leads.” Hulk stepped through the force-field. The pickup tried to follow him, but he was avoiding it, and disappeared from view. Frustrated, the pickup returned to the next most likely subject, the woman.
There was a momentary blankness, to signify a lapse of time. Then the holo-image in the tunnel came on—a holo within a holo. Stile was not sure how the holo-transceiver was able to show itself; this was merely a minor marvel of Proton electronics.
The image was a woman. She was tall and statuesque, with her hair concealed under a skullcap. She was naked: serf, not Citizen. She looked at Bluette. “Where is he?” she demanded imperiously.
“Who are you?” Bluette demanded in return. “Why have you done this?”
“He did not tell you? Then remain in ignorance. Your function is finished.”
“My Employer will—“
“That is of no concern to me.”
The two robots reappeared from uptunnel. “Put her in pain until her lover reappears,” the woman said. The robots were humanoid, but not specific; their faces were impassive masks. Their strength was that of the machines they were. They seemed to have no speech ability, and moved somewhat stiffly—low proficiency models. It was possible for a serf to obtain such robots, while only a Citizen could obtain robots of Sheen’s quality. But these were well suited to this type of work. A robot like Sheen would have had too many humanistic restrictions. Stile found himself tensing for action. The very notion of hurting the lady appalled him. But this was only a holo-recording; the action was long past. He could only watch. “Ironic that the captor never bothered to film the prior sequence,” Stile muttered. “She could have had complete information with no trouble. But I suppose a frame-traveler hasn’t time for niceties—and this one lacks the re-sources of a Citizen. So this is crudely executed.” Bluette, alert to the threat against her, lurched toward the upper end of the chamber. Both robots moved swiftly to cut her off. She reversed, and moved with surprising agility toward the lower end—which of course was where she wanted to be.
The robots reversed with her. They might move awkwardly, but their reflexes were inhumanly swift; it was only their wit that was. deficient. They caught her halfway, and held her in the middle of the chamber.
“Shouldn’t Hulk come out?” Sheen inquired. “They will hurt her.”
“Even Hulk cannot overpower two robots,” Stile said. “They aren’t gentle creatures like you; each one is stronger than he is, with no human vulnerabilities. Remember how easily they carried him several kilometers to the mine.”
“True. But if he waits—“
“The captor believes it is me out there, and that I love Bluette and will be unable to let her suffer. That’s why Hulk said this error might be for the best; there is not the leverage anticipated.”
