Vienna Station by Robert Walton Read Free Book Online Page A

stuff we haven’t run into yet, mobile systems, independent. Get your bat ready, Prima. I have a funny feeling.”
    A pit suddenly gapes ten meters in front of us. A whining noise breaks the silence and four red eyes gleam from the darkness. Snarls rip across the whining noise. Two chromium machines, tracks spinning, lurch from the pit. Cantaloupe-sized heads swivel on meter long, flexible necks. The red eyes acquire us. Stainless steel jaws open. Stainless steel fangs gleam.
    Luis shouts, “Dober-bots!”
    The dober-bots snarl and accelerate toward us. One picks Luis. The other comes for me. Its chrome head snakes toward my ankle. I golf my bat into its head, but the blow is a glancing one. The neck loops impossibly fast. The jaws grip my bat, rip it from my grasp. I scream.
    There’s a crack, a hum and blue electricity flashes. White fire dances across the dober-bot’s head and it freezes with its neck extended toward me. I glance over my shoulder. Mozart lowers what looks like a toy ray gun. He smiles.
    I manage to croak, “What’s that?”
    His smile widens. “It’s a kind of super-taser.”
    “Help Luis!”
    We turn. Luis doesn’t need help. His dober-bot’s head is dangling from a few wires as it spins in circles. Mozart fires again anyway. The second machine freezes.
    Luis steps forward, flexing his muscles. He takes one more full swing at the motionless dober-bot. There’s a clang and a snap as the head finally parts company from the body. Luis shakes his bat and laughs out loud.
    Mozart says, “That was exciting.”
    Luis turns to him, grips his shoulder with strong fingers. “Good with the gun, man! Good!”
    I shiver. “If you two are through, let’s get inside.”
    Mozart nods. “Good idea.”
    Avoiding the still sparking dober-bot, I step toward the building. “Don’t these things have alarms?”
    Luis shakes his head. “No. They have bounce-backs for location purposes and they set up a big howl when they pin somebody. But they didn’t get us!” He laughs again.
    Mozart passes me and leads us to the first building. He looks left and right. “There should be a service door.”
    Luis points. “Over there.”
    We walk to the door. Mozart removes his backpack and looks inside.
    Luis, scanning the area behind us, murmurs, “Your turn, Mr. Mozart.”
    Mozart takes out a slender device and presses it against the door’s electronic lock. The door clicks open. He grins. “No bells.”
    Luis pats his back. “It’s two hours and forty-seven minutes until dawn. We should be out of here in two hours and thirty minutes.”
    Mozart nods. “Upstairs.”
    Luis hefts his bat. “I’ll stay here and keep my eyes open.” I take his hand and squeeze it. He returns the squeeze, gently.
    Stars no longer bother Felix Mozart. They used to penetrate his mind, shrivel him with their vastness. He used to keep the crystal half globe of his habitat opaque for weeks on end. Now stars are mere fixtures, powerless to intrude. Now he has a noble mission.
    He has a mission and it is half complete. The asteroid missiles are launched. A million globes of virus are poised to burst. He checks his systems and then the screen with its countdown tic. Less than a day until he will send the signal to release the virus. Less than a day until humanity will be chastened and cleansed, cleansing fire, cleansing hunger. He smiles. Silver, blue-white, red and gold—stars hang powerless above his shoulder. He stretches the one clawed finger of his right hand to caress the computer screen. Cleansing fire. Cleansing hunger.
    “Is this it?”
    Mozart nods. “This is the synthesizer.”
    We stand in the doorway of a large, dim room. Mozart steps forward and a circle of light blossoms in the room’s center. What looks like an organ keyboard embedded in a console is revealed. A concave computer screen rests atop the keyboard. Mozart walks to the console. Two chairs stand before the console. One is a high, straight-backed musician’s