Hunt the Space-Witch! by Robert Silverberg Page B

I prevent you from reaching the Brain, however. He thought it would be amusingly ironic.”
    â€œWhat’s he talking about?” Katha asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” Harkins said. This was an obstacle he had not anticipated. If this mutant had mind powers as strong as the Watcher’s, his entire plan would be wrecked. He stepped forward, close enough to smell the mutant’s dry, musty skin. “What motive would you have for preventing me?”
    â€œNone,” the mutant said blandly. “None whatever. Is that not sufficiently clear?”
    â€œIt is,” Harkins said. It was also clear that there was only one course left open to him. “You pitiful thing! Stand aside, and let us by!”
    He strode forward, half-pulling the fearful Katha along with him. The mutant hesitated, and then stepped obligingly to one side.
    â€œI choose not to prevent you,” the mutant said mockingly, bowing its faceless head in sardonic ceremony. “It does not interest me to prevent you. It bores me to prevent you!”
    â€œExactly,” Harkins said. He and Katha walked quickly down the winding corridor, heading for a yet-unrevealed destination. He did not dare to look back, to show a trace of the growing fear he felt. The identity of the chess player was even less clear, now.
    The Brain—the robot computer itself, the cybernetic machine that controlled the underground city—had entered into the game, for motives of its— her —own. She was pulling him in one direction.
    The Star Giants were manipulators, too—in another way. And these strange mutants had entered into the system of complex interactions, too. Their motives, at least, were explicable: they were motivated, Harkins thought, by a lack of motivation. Harkins realized that the mutants had no relevant part to play any longer; they acted gratuitously, meddling here and there for their own amusement.
    It was a desperate sort of amusement—the kind that might be expected from immortal creatures trapped forever in a sterile environment. Once Harkins had punctured the self-reserve of the mutant who blocked his way, he had won that particular contest.
    Now, only the robot brain and the Star Giants remained in the equation—both of them, unfortunately, as variables. It made computing the situation exceedingly difficult, Harkins thought wryly.
    An alcove in the wall opened, and yet another mutant stepped forward. This one was lizard-tailed, with staring red lidless eyes and wiry, two-fingered arms. “I have the task of guiding you to the Brain,” the mutant said.
    â€œVery well,” Harkins agreed. The mutant turned and led the way to the end of the corridor, where the tunnel sub-divided into a host of secondary passageways.
    â€œCome this way,” the mutant said.
    â€œShould we trust him?” Katha asked.
    Harkins shrugged. “More likely than not he’ll take us there. They’ve milked all the fun they can out of confusing me; now they’ll be more interested in setting me up where I can function.”
    â€œI don’t understand,” Katha said in genuine perplexity.
    â€œI’m not sure I do either,” Harkins said. “Hello—I think we’re here!”

Chapter Six
    The mutant touched his deformed hand to a door, and it slid back noiselessly on smooth photo-electronic treads. From within came the humming, clattering noise of a mighty computer.
    â€œYou are Lloyd Harkins,” said a dry, metallic voice. It was not a question, but a simple statement of fact. “You have been expected.”
    He looked around for the speaker. A robot was standing in the center of the room—fifteen feet high, massive, faceless, unicorn-horned. It appeared to be the same one that had rescued him from the beast in the jungle.
    Lining the room were the outward manifestations of a computer—meters, dials, tape orifices. The main body of the computer was