Cold Fusion - Lance Parkin [6]
A square shadow loomed over the Doctor. ‘IDENTIFY
YOURSELF.
The little man raised his hat. ‘I am the Doctor.’
The robot’s torso twisted, its eye peering directly at Ziyou. The lens extended, focusing on him. ‘IDENTIFY
YOURSELF.’ But before Ziyou could stammer out his name the Doctor had grabbed a bowl of soup from a nearby table and rammed it hard in the robot’s camera eye. For a moment the wardroid stood still, thick soup dripping from it. Then it tried to wipe the lens clean with its hand. It wasn’t equipped for such a delicate task, and crushed the camera with its fingers.
The Doctor bowed theatrically. ‘There you go: you can see when the visual receptors are disabled, it simply shuts down. Now for my next trick, I’ll – graaw!’
Steel fingers grabbed the Doctor by the scruff of his neck and yanked him four feet into the air. But as Ziyou watched, the Doctor had slipped out of his jacket and slid down the wardroid’s arm. Establishing a foothold on the robot’s pelvis, grabbing on to its shoulder, the Doctor pulled himself around the robot’s vast torso. He wedged himself between steel shoulderblades and wrapped his legs around the narrow waist.
Gun barrels welded to the robot’s hips burst into life, spraying the room with bullets and almost taking off the Doctor’s feet.
The wardroid lurched to one side, then the other, trying to shake him off, but the Doctor was lodged into place.
‘REMOVE YOURSELF.’
‘Shan’t.’ The Doctor had located an access panel on the robot’s flank. He tapped it hard on one side and a small keypad popped out.
A hydraulic arm swiped past the Doctor, trying to grab him. It found only thin air.
‘I’m an itch you can’t scratch, I’m afraid,’ the Doctor shouted. He stabbed at a control, and winked triumphantly at Ziyou. The robot pitched forward, almost throwing it piggyback passenger against a nearby wall. It swept its free hand around the room, firing a salvo of micro-shells.
‘ABOUT MECHINF,’ it bellowed. ‘SAAB-ROYCE
MECHINF VERSION FOUR POINT ONE TWO.
COPYRIGHT COPYRIGHT SYMBOL TWENTY-SIX—
EIGHTY-ONE TO TWENTY-SIX NINETY-TWO
SAAB-ROYCE CORPORATION.’ It levelled it’s arm once more and the knuckle cannons blazed into life splintering a heavy wooden table that a group of trappers had been using as cover. They scattered, and the robot picked them off one by one, again just firing single shots.
The Doctor blinked, and he dived back to the keypad.
The massive robot swung its fist, swatting aside one of the trappers. Frantically, the Doctor began tapping command into the keypad. ‘MECHINF HELP,’ the wardroid roared.
‘PLEASE SELECT: GETTING STARTED. HELP
INDEX. INTERACTIVE HELP. ABOUT.’ The Doctor’s hand hovered over: the keypad for a moment before he selected a control. The. wardroid’s fist rotated through ninety degrees and a miniature rocket battery popped from its wrist. It fired apparently indiscriminately, into the crowd. Ziyou turned away before they hit, but he couldn’t block out the sound of the explosions or the screams.
‘HELP INDEX. PLEASE SELECT: BEGINNER.
STEP BY STEP REFERENCE. YOU HAVE SELECTED
REFERENCE. THIS SECTION OFFERS DETAILED
INFORMATION ABOUT A VARIETY OF TOPICS
PLEASE CHOOSE. NO ENTRY: EMERGENCY
SHUTDOWN. NO ENTRY: SELF DESTRUCT.’ A
guard shoved past Ziyou levelling his rifle. He stood his ground as the robot stomped towards him, glancing down to check the energy levels of his burster. ‘NO ENTRY: SHUT UP. NO ENTRY: SHUT DOWN. YOU HAVE
SELECTED: DISARM. IF NON-LETHAL FORCE IS
REQUIRED, YOUR MECHINF CAN BE
PROGRAMMED TO DISARM ITS TARGET , RATHER
THAT ELIMINATING IT. DEMONSTRATION
FOLLOWS.’ The robot reached out, plucking the burster from the guard’s hand. ‘THE MECHINF DEFAULTS TO
THE “SHOW-Of-STRENGTH” OPTION, A
DEMONSTRATION OF PHYSICAL SUPERIORITY
THAT MOST PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDIES IN THE
AREA –’ Its fist clenched, crumpling the