Hosato breathed a silent prayer of thanks for this new addition to a Ninja’s arsenal of weapons and equipment. His ancestors in Japan had worn baggy suits of black, white, and charcoal gray when undertaking a mission. The black or gray would blend with the shadows, and the white would vanish against snow, while the baggy fit would break up the telltale silhouette of the Ninja.
As technology progressed, so had the Ninja’s gear. The current apex of that evolution was suits such as the one Hosato was wearing. While not actually rendering him invisible, it was certainly the ultimate in camouflaging.
The cloth, which appeared at first glance to be a brightly colored velvet, actually was covered with millions of light relays, each paired with a twin on the exact opposite side of the suit. When activated, each relay would pick up whatever light reached it and display it on the opposite side of the suit. That is, whatever was behind him would be displayed on the front of his suit, and whatever was in front of him would be displayed on the back.
The suit was effective to the point that he could pass in front of a lamp without casting a shadow. He could still be detected by the human eye if he moved, but if he remained motionless, a casual gaze would sweep right past him. Fortunately, security cameras were easy to fool. The most someone monitoring a camera would see if he walked past would be a slight rippling of the picture, which would be disregarded as an electronic disturbance in the equipment.
The corridor ended abruptly. Set in the right-hand wall was another metal door identical to the one he had first passed through. His scanners again gave no indication of alarms, so he cautiously opened the door a crack and peeked through.
Yes, this was it. The manufacturing area.
He slipped through the door and let it close behind him, standing silently in momentary awe at the spectacle before him. Until this moment, he had never truly comprehended the size of Mc. Crae Enterprises or the epic proportions of the job before him.
The room was huge, easily as large as a spaceport hangar. Packed into the room, wall to wall, floor to ceiling, were the assembly lines. The place seemed to be one solid mass of machines, bins, conveyor belts, catwalks, and ladders. It was a study in perpetual motion, with bits of partially assembled robots appearing and disappearing as the various pulleys ferried them along their destined course of completion. The din was unbelievable.
Hosato experienced a flash of despair. It was so big, so complicated. And it was only one of many such areas he would have to sabotage to halt production. How could he possibly hope to stop it all by himself?
Angrily he halted that train of thought. His family had not failed to fulfill a contract in more than two centuries, and he wasn’t going to be the one to ruin that record. So it was complex. Complexity meant vulnerability. There was a weak link here somewhere, but he wasn’t going to find it standing here staring.
Steeling himself to the task, he began his circuitous tour of the facility.
An hour and a half later he paused on one of the high catwalks to take a breather. Leaning against the saftey railing, he surveyed the area as he tried to collect his thoughts.
Once in the manufacturing area he was relatively safe from surveillance and had unsealed the head of his suit to give himself better visibility and ventilation. The hands and feet he left sealed so that on the off-chance anyone appeared, he could reseal the suit in minimal time.
He was beginning to think Rick was right when he said nothing- could go wrong in the manufacturing area. About the only way Hosato could think of to disable the area would be to blow the whole mess sky-high. Except that he didn’t have—and couldn’t get—the necessary equipment.
If he sealed the doors, they could just cut new doors in the wall and keep producing. If he destroyed the stored components, they could quickly produce new ones. The assembly machinery was modularized. The bulky maintenance robots with their forklift arms were ever vigilant as they roamed the floor and catwalks. They could quickly replace any damaged unit in minimal time, and production would continue.
The maintenance robots were small wonders in themselves. Hosato had paused for a while to watch a dozen of them at work. They were apparently dismantling one product-assembly line and rebuilding it to new specifications in preparation for the production of a new type of robot. Watching them glide back and forth lifting and placing the heavy assembly modules gave him a new appreciation for the strength and versatility of today’s robots. But that wasn’t solving his problem.
The various cables and power lines came up through the floor, feeding directly into the massive pillars and girders that supported the maze of machines. If he was going to try to go after those, he might as well blow the entire area. Nor could he tamper with the control signals. If Suzi was right in her analysis, they couldn’t be jammed or distorted. Besides, any jammer unit…
A subtle vibration in the rail he was leaning against captured his attention. One of the maintenance robots was rolling swiftly at him down the catwalk. He had been so engrossed in thought he hadn’t noted its approach.
In one frozen moment he realized it wasn’t going to stop. With a bound, he leaped up, to balance precariously on the railing, waiting for the machine to pass by. Then he saw the forklift. One of its massive arms was extended over the railing. In a moment it would knock him from his perch, to fall to his death. He had one split second to look for an escape route.
He saw it and jumped for it in the same heartbeat. Directly overhead was another catwalk. His reaching fingers found purchase on the lip of the walk, and he pulled his legs up out of the way of the swiftly moving monster below.
The maintenance robot continued on its way without apparently noting his activities at all.
Hosato waited a moment, then swung his legs and dropped back onto the catwalk below. He glared after the machine as he waited for his heart to resume its normal rhythm. Strange. Usually heavy, mobile robots had built-in sensors that would not allow them to approach a human at speeds like that. Maybe since these robots were being used in a manufacturing area where no humans were present, those sensors had been deactivated. If so, Hosato didn’t like it. It was dangerous.
Had he been a little less agile, the robot would have killed him.
He was suddenly eager to get back among other humans. His mission here was over, anyway. Suzi had been right. He was going to have to hit the main computer and power-source building if he wanted to successfully complete his mission. That would take considerable preparation.
Returning to the floor level, he was heading for the door back for the access corridor when another door caught his eye. It was clearly labeled “Prototype Room.”
That stopped him. He fought a silent inner battle for a moment; then curiosity won out over caution. With any luck, he might get an advance peek at Turner’s new security robots, or at least get an idea of what direction their development was taking.
Resealing his hood to reactivate the Ninja suit, he opened the door a crack and peeked inside. It was a room not unlike the one he was currently in; smaller, no assembly lines, and more important, no humans or cameras.
Thus assured, he entered the room for a closer look. There were no formal lines, but tables of various sizes with half-built robots on them. Small bins of components lined the walls, and the designer robots moved between the bins and the tables, gathering parts and adding them to the prototypes they were working on.
Hosato stepped to the first table and studied the work in progress there. Though he was no technician, he had enough general knowledge to understand some of what he was seeing.
The robot under construction would be humanoid in appearance, though noticeably larger than an average man. It would have four cameras or sensory inputs of some kind mounted on its head, giving it a 360-degree field of coverage without turning. It would probably be fast enough to…
Something caught Hosato’s eye. A chill ran through him as he focused on the half-assembled arm lying on the table in front of him. Forgetting himself for the moment, he unsealed his right hand and picked the arm up for closer examination. It looked like there was a blaster being built into the…
The designer robot nearest him suddenly extended a telescoping screwdriver arm straight at his chest. Without thinking, Hosato parried the advancing point with the prototype arm he was holding. In the same motion, he stepped in close and riposted, smashing his improvised weapon across the designer robot’s face.
There was a brief flare of sparks, and the designer robot stopped, its lights dying and its gauges dropping to zero.
Hosato tossed the prototype arm back on the table and sprinted for the door, resealing his suit as he went.
That did it. Damn his fencing reflexes anyway. If the breakdown of a designer robot didn’t bring someone into the area, nothing would. It wouldn’t take a genius to realize someone had helped the robot to malfunction. He had to clear out and establish his presence elsewhere fast.
As he ran, however, a thought occurred to him. He had almost been killed twice by robots in this mission. It would seem the robots were malfunctioning, and that could be dangerous.
The problem was, he couldn’t report it to anyone without admitting he had been in an area he had no business being in!
“There is no record of the transaction you are referencing.”
The impersonal monotone of the desk-robot was infuriating, but Hosato kept his temper. The last thing he wanted to do was to cause a scene or draw attention to himself. In fact, that’s why he was here in the Accounting Office, to try to avoid suspicion.
There had been no overt reaction to his abortive scouting mission yesterday. He had successfully withdrawn from the manufacturing area, finding no indication of alarm or other alert as he did so. Still, he was sure—and Suzi confirmed his feelings—that somewhere someone had noted the results of his activities and was hard at work trying to uncover the culprit.
Hopefully, it would be regarded as the result of the interoffice rivalries Turner had mentioned, though there would doubtless be a great deal of curiosity as to how the alarm floor and camera were bypassed. Still, the bloodhounds would be looking for any unusual behavior, which was why he was here.
“Look,” he said firmly to the robot. “It was last Wednesday night. I fed the card into the waiter robot myself. I know the charge was made, so why wasn’t it shown on my pay stub?”
“There is no record of the transaction you are referencing. I have rechecked the records each time you asked,” the robot replied without rancor. “However, as this is the fifth time you have repeated the same question or a close variant thereof, I must assume you find my answer unsatisfactory. If you wish additional clarification, so indicate and I will summon a human to deal with your problem.”
“Please.” Hosato sighed.
“That phrase is unclear. Do you wish—?”
“Please summon a human,” Hosato amended.
“Your request is being processed. There will be a short delay.”
The desk-robot lapsed into silence. Hosato sank back in his chair to wait. He was beginning to wonder if he was really pursuing the right course in this matter. Maybe…
“Oh, hi!”