The Simmie moved into full view. The team had agreed, there would be no signal given to fire. Each member would shoot as soon as the complete target was visible.
Chan sighted along his gun. His finger was on the trigger. Two more seconds — one more second -
A gigantic bounding figure raced across his field of view. It was S’greela, emerging from cover on Chan’s left. At the same instant an intense whirring of wings sounded from the right. A frenzied cloud of Tinker components surged forward and dropped like a dark cloud. A moment before Chan could press the trigger, S’greela was on top of the Simmie and the two of them were buried beneath the Tinker swarm. All that could be seen in Chan’s sights was a purple-black, writhing mound.
Chan groaned aloud — no point in silence now — and ran forward, weapon at the ready. It was useless. He could catch no more than random glimpses of the Simmie, and any shot was just as likely to kill S’greela. He suddenly realized his own weakness. His instructions had been explicit: If you have to kill other team members in order to kill a Construct, do it! But he couldn’t do it himself. He wouldn’t fire on S’greela and Shikari, no matter what happened.
He skidded to a halt by the side of the wriggling mass. As he did so, the violent movement began to subside. Tinker’ components were separating, layer after sticky layer. At last S’greela was revealed, eight jointed limbs locked around the body of the Simmie. When the final fluttering components of the Tinker were detached, S’greela stood up. The immobilized Simmie was held casually in her midlimbs.
“I am most sorry.” The Pipe-Rilla nodded apologetically to Chan. “That was not my planned action. But when this appeared” — the Simmie was lifted a foot or so — “I realized that I would be unable to discharge my weapon. I also realized that I could not ignore my responsibility to help to incapacitate the Simulacrum. Fortunately, Angel and I had discussed a procedure for just such an eventuality, although I did not expect to employ it.”
“Nor did we,” said Shikari hoarsely. The Tinker was still in process of re-assembly, and the speaking funnel was not quite ready. “We also found ourselves unable to fire. We thought that by swarming we might overcome the Simulacrum alone. We were wrong, but luckily for us S’greela had already accomplished the task.”
“Not so!” S’greela shook her head in the human gesture she had learned from Chan. “I had not succeeded! Without assistance of Shikari’s swarm I could not have gained full control. But now” — To Chan’s horror S’greela placed the Simmie gently on the ground, where it lay staring at him with luminous compound eyes — “now there is no danger. I have removed its weapons.” She held an array of armaments out to Chan, each one capable of atomizing the pursuit team. “Here you are. The Simulacrum is disarmed and helpless. Chan, what should we do now?” Chan raised his gun and pointed it at the Simmie. His duty was clear. A moment later he lowered the weapon. What he might have done readily enough, to a dangerous enemy, he could never do to the unarmed and helpless creature on the ground in front of him.
It was a sick joke. He could not do what he was supposed to do, and Shikari and S’greela had done just the opposite of what they had been directed to do. And now they calmly asked him what they ought to do next!
What should we do now? The perfect question. Chan turned to the Simmie, studying it more closely. Without the formidable arsenal of weapons it looked delicate, almost fragile. One of the wing panels had been injured in the scuffle, and it was trailing painfully along the ground. The glowing eyes stared at him steadily, intelligently, waiting for Chan to decide its fate.
“Can you understand me?”
The Simulacrum gave no answer. Chan turned to S’greela and Shikari. “It’s supposed to have vocal circuits. Do either of you know how to communicate with a Simmie?”
S’greela shook her head. “That is a situation which was not anticipated in any of my briefings.”
“Nor in mine. But you caught it. So you tell me, what are we going to do with it?”
“Await our arrival.” It was Angel, breaking radio silence — as it was not supposed to do. Wasn’t anybody going to follow the plan?
Chan switched his own unit to send. “Where are you?”
“We are on the way now. We are confident that we will be able to achieve communication.”
Without consulting Chan, S’greela went bounding away across the rocky surface. After another second, Shikari quickly dispersed and flew off in the same direction.
Chan was very much alone. He stared gloomily down at the Simulacrum. Without S’greela and Shikari, it suddenly looked a lot less harmless — except for the expression in those dark eyes.
He crouched down for a closer inspection of the wounded wing panel. “First thing we do, we have a go at this.” Could it understand him, or even hear him? “I’m sure we can repair it for you, if you can’t re-grow it for yourself.”
The awful truth hit him, as he gently lifted the delicate membrane. What in heaven’s name were they going to do with the Simmie? If they took it back to Headquarters it might simply be recycled. Put out as bait for one team after another, until finally one came along that was resolute or callous enough to kill it. And that was unacceptable. Studying the Simmie’s quiet and harmless life on the Dreamsea shore, and listening to the other team members, had given Chan a different perspective. The Simulacrum was no more than an Artefact, out even an Artefact had its own joys and sorrows. It had not asked to be made, any more than he had asked to be intelligent. Maybe it too had feelings, dreams and sorrows and desires all its own. And if he, a “war-mad” human, could think such thoughts, how must Shikari, S’greela and Angel be feeling?
No wonder the others had not been able to shoot. No wonder they had — without him — discussed ways to incapacitate a Simmie without harming it.
Chan thought of Leah’s team. According to the pursuit team trainers, they had destroyed their Simulacrum. But was that true — or had they found a secret way to allow it to continue its existence, unknown to anyone else?
He might never know the answer to that question. And S’greela was reappearing, Angel held lightly in her mid-limbs. The mobile cloud of Shikari was not far behind. The tall Pipe-Rilla stooped and placed her burden gently on the ground right next to the Simulacrum. To Chan s surprise, every frond on Angel’s bulky body went at once into agitated motion. The communications unit turned to face him.
“Before we begin to converse with the Simulacrum,” said Angel, “We wish to congratulate you — and each other. We are all in total agreement. This is a wonderful day. Chan, we are at last a team.”
“And what a team!” added S’greela. “Do you not agree, Chan? We have performed wonderfully — better than any of us ever dared to hope.”
Shikari was still in process of re-assembly, but the surface of the Tinker shook in violent agitation. “Shikari agrees,” added S’greela. “And we are still improving! We will become better yet.”
Better!” Chan turned on the Pipe-Rilla. “What do you mean, better? We didn’t do one damned thing as we’d agreed to do it. And we’re going to have to explain all this! As soon as we reach S’kat’lan, and report back to Anabasis Headquarters, they’ll — ”
He stopped. The others were not listening to him, not one of them.
“Better,” said Angel cheerfully. “Much, much better! As we all know, Practice makes perfect.”