Read Online Hunt the Space-Witch! by Robert Silverberg - Free Book Online Page A

recomputed tape. He activated the orifice and let the tape feed itself in.
    The screen went blank for an instant—and when it showed a picture again, it showed the robots frozen in their tracks. From somewhere deep in the tunnels rose a mighty shudder as relays held down for two millennia sprang open, ready to receive new commands.
    Harkins’ fingers flew over the tape console, establishing new coordinates. “The Brain is free,” he said.
    â€œThe Brain is free,” the robot repeated. “A simple task for you—an impossibility for us.”
    â€œAnd now the second part of the operation,” said Harkins. “Go to the surface,” he ordered the robot. “Put a stop to whatever fighting may be going on up there, and bring everyone you can find down here. I want them to watch the screen.”
    â€œOrder acknowledged,” the robot said, and left. Harkins concentrated fiercely on the screen.
    He drew the forest robots together into a tight phalanx. And then, they began to march. The screen showed the view shifting as the army of metal men, arrayed in ranks ten deep, started on their way.
    The first Star Giant was encountered the moment the surface people were ushered into the great hall. Perspiring, Harkins said, “I can’t turn around, Katha. Tell me who’s here.”
    â€œMany of our men—and the city-dwellers, too.”
    â€œGood. Tell them to watch the screen.”
    He continued to feed directions into the computer, and the robots responded. They formed a circle around the Star Giant, and lowered the spikes that protruded from their domed skulls. The alien topped them by nearly forty feet, but the robots were implacable.
    They marched inward. The look of cosmic wisdom on the huge alien’s face faded and was replaced, first by astonishment, then by fear. The robots advanced relentlessly, while the Star Giant tried to bat them away with desperate swipes of his arms.
    Two of the robots kneeled and grasped the alien’s feet. They straightened—and with a terrible cry the Star Giant began to topple, arms pinwheeling in a frantic attempt to retain balance. He fell—and the robots leaped upon him.
    Spikes flashed. The slaughter took just a minute. Then, rising from the body, the robots continued to march toward the city of the Star Giants. The guinea pigs were staging a revolt, Harkins thought, and the laboratory was about to become a charnel house.
    The robots marched on.
    Finally, it was over. Harkins rose from the control panel, shaken and gray-faced. The independent robot rolled silently toward him as if anticipating his need, and Harkins leaned against the machine’s bulk for a moment to regain his balance. He had spent four hours at the controls.
    â€œThe job is done,” the robot said quietly. “The invaders are dead.”
    â€œYes,” Harkins said, in a weary tone. The sight of the helpless giants going down one after another before the remorseless advance of the robots would remain with him forever. It had been like the killing of the traitor Dujar: it had been unpleasant, but it had to be done.
    He looked around. There were some fifteen of his own men, and ten unfamiliar faces from the city-dwelling tribe. The men were on their knees, dumbfounded and white-faced, muttering spells. Katha, too, was frozen in fear and astonishment.
    The robot spoke. “It is time for you to return, now. You have served your task well, and now you may return to your earlier life.”
    Harkins was too exhausted to feel relief. At the moment his only concern was resting a while.
    â€œAre you to leave?” Katha asked suddenly.
    â€œI am going to go home,” Harkins said.
    A tear glistened in her eye—the first tear, Harkins thought curiously, that he had seen in any eye since his arrival. “But—how can you leave us?” she asked.
    â€œI—” He stopped. She was right. He had thought of himself as a mere