_________________________
A.R.Yngve

DARC AGES Book Three
_________________________
Chapter 18


The bulky carrier aircraft screeched and hissed deafeningly, as it hovered down toward the concrete landing-platform on top of Lord Pasko's castle.

As soon as the carrier touched down on the platform, a huge door rolled shut between it and the dark sky above the castle. The carrier had been flown by robot control from Pasko City, stopped for refueling in an allied city farther north, and had continued northward to its secret destination. It had departed from Pasko City several days earlier, loaded with precious stones and metals -- and several cases of Lord Pasko's finest wine. As the carrier now returned from its clandestine journey, it carried a different cargo.

Tharlos Pasko walked over to the rear port of the carrier, and waited for the doors to open. The doors clankingly swung aside, and sank onto the platform floor. The soldiers and mechanics present seemed to shrink away when they saw what waited inside: twelve new, glistening black spider robots. lined up in perfect rows, now and then rattling their thin legs restlessly, green sensor-eyes flickering on and off to save energy during transport. Tharlos's eyes watered at the sight. His faith in the Black Sun strengthened each time he saw those dead, pseudo-intelligent creatures, ready to obey his every command. Tharlos cleared his throat.

"I am Tharlos Pasko!" he bellowed at the waiting spider robots. At once their green sensor-eyes lit up on their metal stalks; a noise of whining motors, compressed hydraulic gases, and rattling limbs rose from the cargo bay. A unison metallic chirp came from the black machines, confirming that they had recognized the name. "I am your new owner and master. My first order to you is... line up in front of me -- now!" As a well-oiled team the robots marched out, resembling twelve giant black widow spiders lining up before a drill sergeant. Tharlos was satisfied. This batch cooperated much better than the last one. "Soon, you will receive a recharge of power for your batteries. But first, I will perform a test of your loyalty to me, your new master!"

He snapped his fingers at a team of mechanics, who with frightened eyes rolled forth a cart. On the cart tray, a humanoid-shaped servant robot was writhing helplessly. Its arms and legs had been disassembled, and its remaining head and torso wrestled to get off its chains. The servant's red-glowing sensor slit seemed to flicker faster when it turned to the row of spidery machines.

"Do you se this robot?" Tharlos shouted, pointing at the maimed servant. The black giants twittered and chirped. "Good. On my command, you will tear it apart, without using your lasers, until I order you to stop! On my command -- now!"

Without a pause, two of the spider robots rushed forward with clicking, palpitating mandibles. Tharlos stepped back to give them room.

The crippled servant uttered a calm, metallic objection: "Please do not destroyYIIIII --"

And then the robot servant was no more. Tharlos ordered them to stop. One of the attending mechanics looked away in disgust -- to destroy the lifetime's labor of several guilds, on a whim, was against all his way of life stood for. The other men swallowed, turned pale, but dared not demonstrate what they felt. Tharlos rejoiced: his new warriors showed none of the dangerous solidarity with fellow robots, that had made Bor Damon's own favorite servant a traitor in Tharlos's service. If the courage of his human soldiers might fail him in the coming battle, these robots would never fail -- because they always obeyed.

Or so he believed.