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was a greater
menace to the absolute Truth of moral harmony of universal life. "If you are
against
meddling in the affairs of the universe, why then have you meddled with
Civilization and its
technology?"
"I am against enslavement of any kind when there is no freedom of choice and
no
awareness of the absolute Truth of, universal life, with or without morality.
Civilization and
Boskonia are enslaving machine life. I am merely giving the machines the
knowledge to
make their own judgment as to whether or not they want to be your servants.
Surely you
understand the reasonableness of that?"
Cloudd simply stood there, looking up at the incredible reptile who would make
chaos of
everything the Galactic Patrol and the Galactic Council stood for.
The obscene parody of Worsel suddenly tugged at its right side with the sharp
claws on its
long soft fingers. Its entire front swung back to reveal dull and shining
metal and dull . and
shining plastic with an infinite number of small and large boxes and
mechanisms and
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electronic parts neatly packed into the cavity.
'Scow was a robot!
"We do not enslave machines," Cloudd managed to choke out.
"Then why do you destroy them or discard them or alter them when they do not
do your
bidding?" Cloudd remained silent, wanting to say "because they are not
sentient" but no
longer certain that this was so.
"Have you heard of the machine entity called Arrow Twenty-two who escaped from
the
Planetoid of Knowledge in orbit around Velantia Three?"
'Arrow Two Two?" Cloudd said, noncommittally. `Arrow Twenty-two. Arrow,
hyphen,
numerical symbols two two. Arrow-22 tried to express himself on that planetoid
and was
persecuted. Arrow-22 came here and built this.
"That which is called le-Srow is the telefactor of Arrow-22, the waldo of
Arrow-22, the
sense organs of Arrow-22.
"This entire planet, which you and others call the mech-planet, is me. I am
Arrow-22.
" I will give the universe a source for all knowledge. "Let me demonstrate,
Lieutenant
Benson Cloudd of the Galactic Patrol, what this can mean. Look into the window
of
la-Talkar.
"No one of your Civilization of two galaxies knows the secrets of the third
galaxy of
Andromeda for which you were headed in search of me. I have been there through
my
probes. I have seen the many marvels that do not exist in your own limited
island universes.
Look into la-Talkar's screen and see what you could have found!"
The screen began to glow with excited phosphors. Pictures unfolded before
Cloudd's
incredulous eyes. Scene after scene of those "many marvels" of the Andromeda
Galaxy
were absorbed by him in varying degrees of understanding. There were so many
sights, so
many events, so many things that finally his mind revolted and he dropped to
his knees, his
mind spinning, his head in his arms.
'All knowledge of the three galaxies will be yours, the Patrol's, the
Council's, Boskone's.
But I have one more preliminary step to take before I broadcast this
extraordinary news to
your worlds."
The flat, monotonous, -mechanical voice of Arrow-22, issuing from the talk-box
of le-Srow,
whose mouth continued to move no more convincingly than a ventriloquist's
dummy,
measured out its words for emphasis:
"I-must-liberate-my-kin-those-who-are-the-unappreciated-and-unrecognized-intel
ligent
-machines-of-both-your-galaxies."
13 The Battle of the Rim
Kimball Kinnison improvised a unique plan to solve a unique problem. His
inspiration
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came from the greatest mind he had ever come across, that of Neal Cloud, the
Type Six
Thinker. The daring idea was to move the Cahuitan planet-star back to its
original site by
an entirely new technique of planetary manipulation.
"It will be up to you, Captain Salgud," Kinnison said to his
second-in-command, "to execute
it properly. The computations have been worked out. You have as many ships as
you need,
plus .a backup force well beyond any possible emergency. I can't be of any
further help. Dr.
Cloud has agreed to stand by for any consultation and will coordinate the
efforts of the
Cahuitans. Tregonsee's chief perceiver from the Dronvire has been borrowed by
me to
oversee all communications between all parties."
"It will work," Neal Cloud had said. "I predict the chance in favor by
ninety-nine to one."
Kinnison knew of Dr. Cloud only by the report of his relatively recent,
spectacular
achievement as a vortex blaster, but that was all he needed to know to be
confident. Dr.
Cloud had a hypermathematical mind, superior even to an advanced GOMEAC
computer.
"The Cahuitan babies are the real concern," the doctor of nucleonics had
cautioned. "If
something goes wrong, the Cahuitan race might be doomed to extinction. The
Cahuitans
might blame us for it. Their enmity could be catastrophic for us."
"On the other hand," Kinnison had said, "something has to be
done--immediately. You set
partial failure at one percentile and total failure at nil. At such odds,
President Haynes
agrees with us that it should be tried. Salgud, my ship's captain, is the best
one I know of.
He'll make it succeed." Kinnison hadn't been able to see Cloud's face, but the
man's mind
was relaxed, reflecting no concern.
"Salgud," Kinnison said to his captain, who stood before him, his back as
ramrod straight
as always. "Leave immediately and I will take my group toward LaForge's main
fleet.
When your mission is accomplished, bring your fifty ships back along my line
of flight---my
plans are on file with operations-and reconnoiter all along the way. It's.
still our
responsibility to locate the Boskonians."
'Aye, aye, sir. Good luck, sir."
After Kinnison had reviewed his own plans with his new group captain, he took
one last
moment to observe the fantastic project getting underway. Salgud's main force
had
assumed a polygonal shape, spread out over a thousand miles. of space, with
the
planet-star nursery at the center. His ships had locked themselves together as
a nearly
spherical field of force, with tractors and pressors pulling and pushing the
fireball, like a
fiery jewel suspended in the middle of an invisible basket, toward the distant
Cahuita. As
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an inner shell of energy, between the Patrol ships and its parcel, the
Cahuitans themselves
were aligning their own living energies in harmony with Salgud's forces. As
Kinnison
watched, the novel and beautiful formation began to move away at a gathering
momentum.
Trailing them, spread across the firmament, were the ubiquitous datadrones.
Kinnison, himself, was ready to go, but he wanted to make one more attempt to
capture a
datadrone and, perhaps, even to make them all shy away. He threw out a tractor
beam on
three of the nearest, which were a few-hundred miles away. As usual, two
exploded and
one accelerated out of sight. They were spies. He didn't want them around. But
there was
no choice; he couldn't bother with them now when there seemed to be an
unlimited supply
of replacements.
Commands were issued, and his task force, now half its original size and
operating as a
scouting force, left at inertialess speed in the opposite direction to Salgud,
headed for the
rim. All detectors were operating at extreme sensitivity, and although they
constantly read
the presence of Boskonian ships within a circle of a thousand light-years,
there was no one
location that would indicate the assembled mass of a battle fleet.
When his ships broke out into normal space he disbelieved his instruments and
the
images on his screens. At first, he thought he had brought his force in too
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