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He located a new doorway on his right. It opened for him. This was a
large, dimlit display room. There were thirteen low pedestals circling
the room and on each stood, silent and unmoving, a Mechanix medical
robot or android.
"This must be the Medix Wing," he told himself. "So I ought to be able
to get back to my office from here."
He started across the room.
"?oor r. Zan crazy."
He stop, cd looking around.
A husky nursebot had stepped off a pedestal and was hurrying toward
him. "You don't look at all well."
"Actually I'm fine. All you have to do is point me in the direction of
my--"
"You're all feverish."
"That's just from running. It's--"
"What a pity." The big robot caught hold of him. "You'll feel a whole
lot better after this shot."
You could SEE the place glowing, a harsh, throbbing red, from blocks
away. It covered over two full acres of ground, was built of great
panes of flashing plastiglass and resembled a gigantic barn. Floating
above it was a huge light sign that flashed its name--tm B^P'N--into
the surrounding night. At least a dozen sky cars were approaching the
acre of landing area and land vehicles were rolling into the equally
large parking area beyond that.
"Impressive, huh?" inquired Georgia, punching out a landing pattern on
her sky car dash. "Subtle, too."
"Explain this setup a little more," requested Jake.
"The Barn is a sort of entertainment mall for the local sod kickers and
faux sod kickers she answered. "But underneath you'll find a warren of
assorted criminal enterprises. Many of them are known to the law, but
ignored because of a flourishing system of bribes and kickbacks."
The sky car set down, shimmying slightly, next to a sky van that had
been redesigned to resemble an immense ear of corn.
"And you're sure Dr. Mel Winter is going to be under here
someplace?"
"Damn near sure." She climbed free of the car. "When you asked me to
get a lead as to his current whereabouts, I asked around. Supposedly
the good doctor is here, waiting to get him151 self shipped out of the
country. Apparently he's got a bug up his rear and wants to get clear
of Farmland before he disappears like Sharon Harker."
There was noise and music pouring out of The Barn. The entire landing
area and the walkways leading to the arched entrances were bathed with
a pulsing red by the blazing lights of the walls.
"It's going to be fifty bucks a head," Georgia told him. "You got that
much?"
He grinned. "The agency is generous with expense money."
A tall, automated scarecrow stood at the doorway. "Fifty smackers
each," it demanded of each customer.
When Jake placed $100 in Bam chits in the scarecrow's gloved hand, it
said, "Much obliged, stranger. You and the little lady make yourselves
to home."
"Shucks," said Jake. "We got to head over this way." Georgia took his
arm and guided him to the left.
They passed an enormous wood plank dance floor that held several
hundred square dancers Up on a platform, electrified down home music
was being played by a quintet of big copper plated robots dressed in
overalls and straw hats. Painted on the face of the bass drum was
Granpappy Gitfiddle & His Hired Hands.
As they passed the floor, a heavyset young man took a stumble, fell off
onto the walkway in their path. He had Farmboy Industries--Feeding
America from the Heart of Farmland inscribed across the back of his
jacket in globolts.
Bending, Jake helped him to his feet. "That's one of my favorite
slogans."
"Huh?" The heavyset youth blinked. "You looking for trouble,
outlander?"
"Heck no."
"C'mon." Georgia hurried Jake along. "Don't get into no ruckuses with
the yokels."
"Shucks, I was just trying to be neighborly, ma'am."
Great smashing noises were coming from up ahead on their right, along
with booming explosions and huge swirls of sooty smoke. The walkway
wound by a large, open arena where a sizeable crowd was watching a
demolition derby involving a score of antique pickup trucks.
Georgia remarked, "We got quite a night life in these parts."
"So I'm experiencing."
She guided him down a side pass way "We got to go in here first
off."
There was a barn within The Barn, a big red structure made of neo wood
Over the wide entrance hung a wooden sign announcing
HAYLOFT WHOREHOUSE.
"Howdy, folks," greeted the barefooted robot sitting on a bale of straw
just to the right of the door. "What can I do ya for this evenin'? We
got three under-age virgins--humans I mean to say--along with our usual
exceptional run of accommidatin' an dies of every gender."
Georgia leaned close to him. "We come on business, Zeke,"
she told the robot. "The frost is on the pumpkin."
"Ah, I got ya." He tapped the side of his metal nose with his silvery
forefinger. "Go right on in, missy, and take the door to the Feed
Room. This here young feller with you?"
"Yep."
"Okay, get on in with ya. Too bad, mister, you're on business.
We don't get virgins every night, I can tell ya."
Beyond the Feed Room door a dimlit ramp led them down beneath the barn.
At the end of that was another door. Passing through that doorway
brought them into a long, curving metal corridor.
When they reached the heavy door at the corridor's end, a portion of
the wall on their right turned transparent and revealed a small, bright
lit room.
A blond young man was sitting in a rocker with a lazrifle resting
across his knees. "Yeah?" came his amplified voice.
"The frost is on the pumpkin," called out Georgia in his direction.
"Oaky cloaks."
The wall blanked and the door slid open.
The next corridor was longer, narrower and better illuminated. At its
end stood a small, pale man in a baggy green suit.
He was shifting nervously from foot to foot. "Evening to you, Georgia
dear."
"Hi, Ryder," she said. "So can we talk to Dr. Winter now?" Ryder
shifted from foot to foot a few more times and made a disgruntled
noise. "Afraid you're going to have a wait, hon," he told her. "The
crazy fool just tried to do the dutch."
"Tried to kill himself?"
"Damned if he didn't. Soon as we finish pumping him out and shooting
him up with antidotes, you can give it a try," he said forlornly. "But
I can't promise he'll ever be in any shape to talk to you folks."
"Shit," observed Jake. Squatting, he took hold of the disabled
grey guardbot by its metallic armpits and dragged it away from the spot
behind the high holographic hedge where it had been on duty and into
the narrow, quirky alley between the two modest villas.
Approaching the bright green simulated hedge again, he scanned the
artificial tutti "Sin falta .. . here's the sec system control
panel." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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