HE FLAILED, TRYING to gain control. He staggered, and realized that he was neither floating nor falling, but standing—on a hillside. It was cold, and a bright sun blazed in his eyes. The room and the pool of light were gone, and his ears were ringing with the sound of fading voices. In their place, he heard a whistling wind, and a low, continuous thunder. He gasped, trying to focus.
Through a blur, he thought he saw a landscape covered with snow. And ice. Snow and ice? That explained why he felt a brisk chill through his thin jumpsuit.
His thoughts were interrupted by an urgent tapping. Metallic. He looked down. He was on some sort of path, with Copernicus parked beside him. At his glance, Copernicus stopped tapping. Napoleon was on his other flank. He felt an abrupt sense of relief. "Record everything," he whispered. "Everything." He raised his eyes, shading them against the glare. "Where the mokin' foke are we?" They were on the side of an icy hill, under what appeared to be a bright sun, peering out over a slope covered with snow-capped trees. Forest stretched as far as he could see.
Mokin' foke . . .
His head was still ringing, and for an instant, he thought he heard that voice again, like a haunting echo. /Charlie? Is that you?/ He heard nothing except the wind, and the low thunder.
What was this? A bizarre hallucination? He had passed through some sort of transformational process . . . and it was possible that all of this had been implanted in his mind. But he didn't think so. He felt the weight of gravity under him, he was definitely cold, and his head was starting to clear. He rubbed his arms and hugged himself.
No, he was pretty sure that he was really standing on a snow-and-ice covered hillside. He squinted, but couldn't see the sun too clearly. The sky was a pale, featureless blue-grey. Every sense told him that he was standing on the surface of a planet. "But that," he murmured, "is ridiculous."
He was answered by Copernicus's metallic tapping. The two robots looked like a pair of metal dogs at his side. Copernicus's sensor-array was rotating; Napoleon was beeping softly to itself, shifting its head, as though to gain understanding. "What are you two seeing?"
The robots spoke at once: "Ranging exceeds design parameters—" "Loss of continuity—" "—cannot reconcile conflicting input—"
"One at a time! Nappy?"
Copernicus clicked and became still. Napoleon bobbed. "John Bandicut. I experienced a loss of continuity, with conflicting data. I observed a bright influx of visible light, then a period of . . . numerous error interrupts, lasting approximately nine minutes. The time measurement is uncertain."
Bandicut rubbed his arms again, rapidly. "Do you have any idea what happened?" He could see his breath against the wintry landscape. He opened his bag on Copernicus's back and rummaged for a lightweight jacket, the closest thing he had to exposure garb.
"Uncertain," said Napoleon. "I also noted a fluctuation in gravitational readings. Those data may be corrupted. Negative correlation with norms in the Triton database."
Bandicut shrugged into his jacket. "Nappy, we're not on Triton anymore."
"Acknowledged, John Bandicut." The robot's sensor eyes looked almost thoughtful for a moment. "But that is the only database at my disposal."
"You might want to start compiling a new one." Bandicut gazed upslope. Not far above them, overlooking the path, was a smooth stone wall, slick with ice.
"I also detected certain changes in my internal systems," Napoleon continued. "However, I am unable to characterize those changes. My internal perceptions were themselves undergoing alteration."
Bandicut glanced back. "You too, Coppy?
Copernicus drumtapped acknowledgment. "Yes, Cap'n. Cannot elaborate. However, I am now registering a significantly altered environment. I cannot account for its appearance."
"That much we can agree upon. What else about the transition?"
Copernicus ticked softly. "I show a chronology lapse and . . . damaged analysis. Was there a change in programming?
Bandicut blinked out over the snow-covered trees. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I wonder how the hell far we were transported from—" his voice caught suddenly "—our ship." Their last piece of Earth. The closest thing they had to a home.
Napoleon stretched to its full height of about a meter. "I can provide no information. Inertial alignment was lost during the transition."
Bandicut nodded and squinted at the sky. It looked odd to him, in a way he couldn't put his finger on. "Well, whatever the hell happened, I have a feeling we're still not on a planet." He wondered if he had been transported into something like the Earth-orbiting L5 City, a habitat complete with inner landscaping and active ecologies. But if that were so, this bit of wilderness made L5 look like a backyard garden.
He hoisted his backpack over his shoulders. "Let's see what's along this path. Maybe we can get a better view from up here." He trudged up the path, stepping carefully with his sneakers on the crusted snow. There were no tracks visible; nonetheless, it did look like a path. The view above the ice-glazed wall was blocked by trees. However, just below the wall the path appeared to level off on an open ledge.
He glanced back. Napoleon was following; but Copernicus's wheel base was a little large for the path and it was still trying to get itself turned around, with short back and forth movements. "Coppy!" he shouted. "Why don't you just stay there a minute! We'll be right back." He resumed hiking, with Napoleon close behind. "Can you make anything out up there?" he asked, indicating the wall.
"Rock and ice with uncertain spectrographic signatures," Napoleon rasped.
"Mm." No reason to be surprised by that.
The path petered out, but the ledge afforded a clearer view below. "Take a look here, Nappy." There seemed to be a river. He couldn't see much of it, but here and there through the forest cover, he glimpsed water. Maybe that was what the thundering noise was: rapids in the river. He felt better, having even that bit of knowledge about his surroundings.
"What do you make of these plants?" He puffed through his hands as he bent to examine the underbrush and trees. He resisted an impulse to touch the dark, shiny green leaves of the underbrush. Thoughts of poison ivy, and worse, went through his mind. The plants were totally unfamiliar, which helped dispel any notion that this whole scene had somehow been created out of his own memories and imagination.
*The location is real.*
He started. /You still here? Can you give me some useful information?/ The thought came out with an edge of annoyance; he'd gotten pretty tired of the stones' terse manner.
*We can only provide such information as we have.*
Bandicut grunted. He continued his inspection of the nearby trees. The branch structure was similar to Earth-trees, except that the branches stuck out horizontally, then curved upward like scimitars. The leaves were pointy-clawed, like the outstretched hands of an old crone—purplish on top, and on the underside, like coarse black cloth. "Nappy, what do you get on these leaves?"
The robot waved flickering sensors. "These objects? I detect metallic traces, but less than required to meet current mining criteria."
"Uh-huh. What else? Coppy! What are you doing here? I thought I told you to wait."
The wheeled robot ground to a stop on the ice. "I thought you might need me, Cap'n."
Bandicut squinted at Copernicus. Since when had this machine become such an independent thinker? Between Charlie's reprogramming efforts and whatever they'd just been through, he wondered how much these robots of his had changed. "I see. Well, do you have any data on plant life?"
Copernicus made a buzzing sound like a stalled motor. "Don't think so, Cap'n."
"Nappy?"
"Negative, John Bandicut. Please define plant life."
"You're looking at it. That's a tree. It's a form of plant life. So is this underbrush. And—" he pointed "—the foliage growing on this wall."
"Unfamiliar with those forms, Cap'n," said Copernicus.
Nappy turned its head one way, then another, like a large bird taking in its surroundings. Bandicut frowned, wondering whether his robots were going to be any help at all here. Or were they too far out of their league? He shook his head, shivering at the thought of having only himself to depend on. "Well, never mind. Let's head down toward that river. If nothing else, we might be able to find drinkable water. And maybe then—" His voice trailed off. He had no idea where he wanted to go from here. The realization had just hit him all over again that he was now stranded in an alien world, separated even from his spacecraft. He had better find food, water, and shelter. Soon.
*Agreed.*
/Thanks,/ he thought sarcastically. And then maybe he could start worrying about who had brought him here, and why.
*
His hands and feet were growing numb as he headed down the slope, but at least by moving around he was generating some heat. The path switched back and forth, giving him the occasional fresh glimpse of the band of water below. Across the river, the land rose again, completing a gentle canyon of rock and forest. Everything seemed capped with snow and ice. Across the river, the slopes were backed up against more hills. And the horizon . . . as he looked at it now, it seemed more bandlike than he had realized before. A wall? He felt more certain than ever that this was an astonishingly sophisticated, closed habitat, not a planetary surface. He could not escape a feeling of awe at the power that had created this place. But how eager was he to meet its creators in person?
He peered again at the sun. It was too bright to focus on, but he thought it looked a little small. Was it really a sun, or some other kind of light source? He wasn't sure whether it had moved in the sky or not.
Downslope, the path grew uneven, which made it difficult for the robots. They were having trouble with traction on the ice and snow, which was far more slippery than the cryogenic ices they had been built for on Triton. He kept glancing back at them. As a result, he almost didn't see the spot where the path dropped and twisted sharply to the right. He caught himself in midstride. For a frightening instant, he felt his body warring between his one-thirteenth-gee reflexes from Triton, and the one gee that was about to tumble him over. He swayed, arms out, then brought his weight back around onto the path.
With a gasp, he looked up at the robots, Copernicus churning up a small cloud of snow particles with his conical wheels, and Napoleon goosestepping behind. "Slow down, you two! There's a steep drop right—"
Copernicus slewed to a stop, teetering at the edge. How the hell was it going to nose down over that dip and make the right-angle turn? "Steep drop here, Cap'n," the robot remarked. "Shall I give it a try?"
"Hold on a sec. Napoleon, can you help Coppy around that?" Bandicut remembered, far too clearly, how the robots—because they weren't programmed for higher-gravity gradients—had once knocked loose a set of heavy tanks, back on the spaceship, and nearly killed him.
The legged robot edged up beside its partner and peered over. Without speaking, it braced its upper arms on Copernicus and swung its lower legs around to back down the drop-off, like a small child negotiating stairs. Backing partway around, it groped for a secure handhold on Copernicus and said, "Proceed slowly. I will apply leverage."
Bandicut tugged nervously at his backpack straps, watching.
Copernicus inched forward, until its front wheels hung out over the drop-off and its belly rasped on the ice. It ground for purchase with its rear wheels, pushing itself out, until the front wheels suddenly dropped, whirring for traction. Napoleon strained to lever the wheeled robot around the bend.
"You got him, Nappy?"
"Attempting—" Napoleon began, just as Copernicus lost traction in its back wheels. All four wheels spun in a cloud of ice particles. It slid sideways. There was no way Napoleon could stop it as it teetered at the corner, then toppled over the edge. "Stop, Copernicus!" Napoleon rasped. It was no use; Copernicus was tumbling, and Napoleon went over with it, down the slope.
"Wait!" Bandicut yelled futilely. He winced as the two machines bounced apart, slamming through snow and foliage, and disappeared through the trees. "Are you all right?" he shouted. There was no answer, just the continuous rumble of the river. "Damn!"
For an instant, he considered following them down the slope. But that would be dumb; better to run on ahead and hope the path switched back again. He hurried, slipping a little on the crusty snow.
The path wound through a dense thicket of shrubs, all brittle with ice crystals, then cut back left, descending sharply into the stand of trees where the robots had vanished. Ahead, almost at his level now, he glimpsed the silver ribbon of water. But he saw no sign of either robot. "Napoleon! Copernicus!" he yelled.
Over the thunder of the river, he heard a snap. He squinted, casting his gaze around. Snap. He saw nothing moving. But it sounded like branches breaking. "Nappy! Coppy!" He peered up through the trees, trying to gauge where the two must have fallen. He couldn't be sure. He hurried on.
Not much farther ahead, the trees opened up to reveal the riverbank. He must have missed the robots or their trail, somehow. Perhaps the smartest thing would be to reconnoiter along the bank, then backtrack if he didn't find them. He continued out of the trees, where the path snaked along a narrow strip beside the water. He paused to catch his breath.
It was a stunningly beautiful panorama. The river was about twenty meters wide—shallow, fast moving, glistening over icy boulders. The water was clear, and he could see numerous, large flat rocks both above and below the surface. To his right, the river swept into sight from around a large elbow of land on his side. To his left, the water rushed over the boulder-strewn bed and crooked away around a massive outcropping on the far shore. The thundering was coming from that direction.
Bandicut tucked his hands under his armpits, shivering. It was beautiful, yes—but just now he was starting to think more about freezing to death.
*We can help.*
He blinked. /What's that?/
He felt a sudden twinge of heat in both wrists, and a flush of warmth in his torso. /Thanks,/ he thought with a shiver of relief. /Why'd you wait so long?/
*Our reserves are limited.*
He grunted, gazing down into the river. He wondered if it would kill him to drink the water. He wondered if there was some way to test it, other than the hard way.
Crack-k-k-k!
He turned back toward the woods. That had sounded more like breaking ice than branches. "Hello!" he shouted. "Coppy? Nappy?"
A moment later, he heard a crash and a whir of motors. Copernicus tumbled out of the trees, a short distance downriver from where Bandicut stood. It landed on its wheels, then spun for traction as it slid over sloping ice toward the water. Its motors whined, reversing futilely. "Oh, moke—" Bandicut breathed. At that instant, Napoleon crashed out of the trees, as well, curled up in a protective ball. It bounced across the ice after Copernicus, kicking up puffs of ice-dust. Bandicut watched in horror as the robots careened toward the water.
Whirrrrrr! Copernicus' wheels picked up some traction, but it was moving too fast, and it tumbled over the bank and crashed into the water. Napoleon slammed into the rocky bank, bounced over Copernicus, and hit the water with an even bigger splash. Bandicut cursed and ran to the edge of the bank. He had no idea if the robots were waterproof, and half expected them to short out before his eyes.
He dropped his backpack, then hesitated. What the hell did he think he was going to do? He could freeze if he went into that water—and for all he knew it could be full of poisons, or God knew what else. For that matter, he didn't even know for sure that it was water, and not some other clear liquid. He blinked, waiting to see if the robots could get out by themselves. Copernicus had landed on its back, half submerged, its wheels spinning just above the surface. Napoleon had uncurled and was struggling futilely to get to its feet. Look at them, he thought—they're dinosaurs in this goddamn place. There's no way to recharge them, and they're going to run down in a couple of days anyway, and that will be that. Don't be an idiot. Leave them.
He swallowed.
Don't be a jerk, he thought. They're your friends.
"Hang on, you two!" he yelled. And he took a deep breath and strode into the swirling, icy waters.