Star Wars_ The Adventures of Lando Calrissia - L. Neil Smith [63]
Vuffi Raa described his journey through the blue and red maze. “Can you tell me what all that was about?”
“CERTAINLY. YOU WERE MISTAKEN BY THE WALL FOR A SMALL HOUSEKEEPING DEVICE AND ROUTED THERE FOR REPROGRAMMING AND REPAIR. HAVE YOU BEEN REPAIRED?”
“Not that I know of.”
Lando laughed. “Any secret urges to sweep up or take out the garbage?”
“Lando, this is serious. I want to know what happened!”
“Touchy! Okay, I concede, I grew, I shrank—but I’ve got you on another one: Mohs. The Hall said organic lifeforms, plural.”
“QUITE CORRECT, SIR, YOUR INTESTINAL FLORA, OTHER SYMBIOTIC ORGANISMS, ALL WERE GREATLY ALTERED IN SIZE, THEN BROUGHT BACK TO NORMAL MAGNITUDE AS PART OF—”
“What about Mohs. Was there another human being with us when we entered, and what happened to him?”
The hall was silent—a guilty silence if ever there was one. Lando realized suddenly that relations between mechanical intelligences weren’t all that different from those between organic ones.
“Well?”
More silence.
Lando looked at Vuffi Raa. “That thing mistook you for a maintenance bug, and bummed up your memory trying to ‘repair’ you. That’s why you don’t remember Mohs. Now it feels ashamed.”
Vuffi Raa looked at Lando. “I certainly hope so, Master, I certainly hope so. What are we going to do, once we reach the Harp?”
“Shhhh! The walls have ears. We’re going to use it in whatever manner was intended—rather, take it to somebody who knows how to and let him do it.”
“You mean the governor?”
“That fat ape? No, I mean Gepta. He’s the one who really says when we get to leave this lousy system.”
They shuffled onward, trying, occasionally, to get the hall’s attention again. Since it obviously hadn’t gone away, it must have been ignoring them. Finally they reached the base of the raised platform on which the Mindharp stood. It wasn’t as bad as Lando had predicted: the ceiling was much lower—Vuffi Raa was now his old familiar size again—and the room felt smaller, but it was still huge and awe-imposing. As was the altar.
A dozen meters high, it was cut from a single perfectly transparent slab of what appeared to be life-crystal. It was hexagonal in cross section, with corners one could practically cut himself on. Otherwise, it was smooth and featureless.
It would be a long, difficult climb.
Lando sat down to consider the problem. His survival kit included no rope, suction cups, antigravs. Its designers had anticipated he would be among others—fellow soldiers—and had shared out supplies in a package that was sold originally to an entire squad. They had not anticipated that survival would necessitate committing a burglary.
“Any ideas, Vuffi Raa?”
“No, Master. If I were small again …”
“You never were small, remember? We argued about that and you won.”
“Oh, that’s right. You argued so persuasively that I forgot for a moment.”
“Vuffi Raa, I think that’s the first nice thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“You’re welcome, Master.”
“Don’t call me Master.” He thought some more, then: “Hey, Hall?”
“MAY I BE OF ASSISTANCE?”
“I hope so. How come you didn’t answer us back there?”
“I’M SORRY, I WAS THINKING ABOUT SOMETHING. MAY I HELP YOU NOW?”
“Sure. Does this pylon sink into the floor or anything?”
“NO, I’M AFRAID THAT IT DOES NOT.”
“You don’t happen to have a ladder handy, do you?”
“NO, SIR, I AM NOT SO EQUIPPED.”
Lando mused for a long time. Despite his long sleep, he was tired and hungry—jacket rations aren’t everything their manufacturers claim for them. In fact, they aren’t anything their manufacturers claim, except that they’ll keep you alive.
“Say! Can you make me big again?”
“CONGRATULATIONS, SIR, YOU HAVE PASSED THE TEST, YES, I CAN ENLARGE YOUR SIZE. DO YOU WISH ME TO BEGIN NOW?”
“Can you make me normal again, afterward? The size I am now—provided that’s the size I started out before we entered the pyramid?”
“IMMEDIATELY UPON YOUR REQUEST, SIR.”
He looked at Vuffi