Regan's Reach 4: Avarice by Mark G Brewer Page A

you are here, it's
invigorating isn't it? This is real life my . . ." Ham shuffled
uncomfortably as he clamped down on what he was about to say, then settled on ".
. . my accomplice."
    His companion laughed. "Ha - you were
going to say friend, admit it, you like me."
    Ham ignored him, concentrating on the data
flow as they approached this small dense twin to Bob's home planet which likewise
orbited the star Rigel. Both cycled a similar distance from their sun and
chased each other continually as they had for trillions of years, but not
forever. This satellite planet Regis was slowly catching its brother Rexis and
at some point tens of thousands of years in the future the gravitational
influences would wreak havoc; but not now.
    Ham grimaced. "I need to concentrate
Bob. It wouldn't pay to make a mistake with the landing would it, and I want to
make the drop at juuust the right spot." He drew out the word comically,
winding Bob up with his casual attitude. It was deliberate.
    Bob now shifted uncomfortably and Ham
looked sideways at him, a look made with difficulty in the shared tube. "Ha!
You've dialed down your pain settings haven't you?"
    Bob shrugged uncomfortably. "It would
be mad not to, this is going to hurt."
    Ham grunted. "An old sage once said,
make pain your friend, grasshopper." He smiled as he made the final small
adjustment sending them into a steep dive. They were resting feet first now and
both braced themselves for the jerk of the chute they knew would come soon . .
.
     
    The missile-like shape buried nose first
into soft earth. The ground gave more than Ham expected and the door which was designed
to ratchet outwards and down, was wedged shut with the weight of earth around
them. The parachute, though dark in color, would still draw attention draped as
it was over the few trees in the area and they needed to move fast. Consequently
they would need to work together.
    Dialing up power in the android limbs they painfully
worked their arms up to the chest and then pressed outward simultaneously, a titanic
effort that produced metallic pops and groans before the door cracked open with
a sound like a rifle shot. Clambering quickly over the jagged edge, first Ham
then Bob dropped to the earth and they began hauling in the chute. Ideally they
wanted at least two days to accomplish their reconnaissance and to do that it
was essential they not be discovered early. Bundling the fabric into the probe
they commenced digging like moles, scooping away the earth in a blur of arms to
create the shallow trench needed to hide the transport and bury it completely.
It took an hour to dig, bury and disguise the craft and eventually only a
slight mound betrayed the spot. It was six hours till dawn, time enough to
quickly gain ground toward their objective, the celestial city. Once there they
would need to find a place to settle through the daylight hours. Beginning a steady
jog through the trees they moved quietly through the forest and then
accelerated out onto a wide plateau, settling on a steady twenty five miles per
hour run through pitch blackness. Neither bothered to look back; they would not
be returning.
     
    Sunrise found them laying face down on the main
peak overlooking the city. Neither appeared tired; these android forms could
have continued running for several more years, negotiating the planet without
trouble either overland or under water. The one hundred and twenty mile overnight
journey had melted away beneath their feet without incident, with no artificial
light to expose their progress. Nearing the city they had slowed, taking more
time and being much more cautious about their approach. Having deliberately
taken the most difficult path to the peak they felt confident no one would be
aware of their presence; the natives here would never have expected visitors. Dialing
up their vision they now zoomed in, surveying the scene with grudging
admiration.
     
    Early dawn revealed the hustle and bustle
of a surprisingly