Death Trap by Sigmund Brouwer Page A

didn’t let go. “You are coming with me.” I led him up the ramp to the second-floor walkway, then along the walkway. Soon we were at the ladders that reached up to the solar panels.
    â€œYou will have to climb,” I said. “I cannot. All you need to do is disconnect two or three wheels from the solar panel railing. Bring them back down.”
    Rawling nodded slowly.
    As I waited below, I scanned the dome. No movement anywhere. Were people already dying?
    I switched to infrared and scanned the nearest minidome. The minidome itself was a light red, showing that it held slightly more heat than the cool air of the dome. Inside, a deep glowing red in the form of a body showed me where someone rested on the bed. I watched carefully and saw a slight rising and falling of the form. The person was still breathing.
    Switching off infrared, I went to the visual light spectrum, seeing colors as normally viewed by human eyes. I changed video lenses to see Rawling. He was nearly finished taking off a couple of wheels.
    I hoped I was right in my guess.
    If I was wrong, I’d be in my robot body, helpless to prevent all these people from dying over the next few hours.

CHAPTER 25
    I opened my eyes in the platform buggy.
    There was noise and excitement behind me.
    I spun in my wheelchair.
    Everyone was gathered at the far window, staring down from the platform buggy at the desert floor.
    I smiled. I knew what had their attention.
    I wheeled up beside them. “It’s a robot,” I said loudly.
    My words quieted them down.
    One of the scientists frowned at me. “Of course it’s a robot. We aren’t stupid. We want to know what it’s doing here. Five minutes ago, I saw it coming here at a speed I estimated to be 24 miles an hour. Then suddenly it stopped in front of our platform buggies. And what’s that in its hands?”
    â€œSolar panel wheels,” I said. “Damaged solar panel wheels. I’m not totally sure it’s from microscopic particles of Martian sand, but that’s my best guess. I think over the years, the sand has seeped into the dome. My wheelchair can hardly move because the ball bearings have been ground down, and the only reason I can come up with is sand.”
    I had everyone’s attention.
    â€œThe solar panels follow the sun,” I said. “If the wheels on the solar panel railings have the tiniest bit of drag, the solar panels will always be a few degrees behind the best angle to catch maximum sun. I think that’s what’s been happening. Slowly, the generators have been dying. Not because anything is wrong with the panels. But because something’s wrong with the wheels.”
    â€œWhat’s the discussion in there?” Director Steven asked from the other platform buggy.
    â€œMom, could you turn the speaker down and let me finish? Then all of you can decide what to do.”
    â€œI’ll turn it down,” another scientist volunteered. “This is all so crazy. There must be some truth in it.”
    â€œThank you,” I said. It hurt my head to look up at everybody from my wheelchair. “That robot brought back a few of the wheels from the dome to prove that’s the problem. We need to return to the dome. We can replace the wheels and begin generating electricity within hours. The people in there don’t have to die.”
    From the corner of my eye, I saw Director Steven waving, trying to get our attention.
    I ignored him and explained more. “The oxygen levels in the dome are so low that everyone has passed out. They need oxygen from the platform buggy reserves to survive until the generators kick in again. It’ll take about an hour to return. That’s just enough time to save them.”
    â€œAnd if you’re wrong,” another scientist said, “we’ll have given them the oxygen that would keep us alive.”
    â€œThat’s why I brought back the solar panel wheels,” I