At 1200 hours the next day, Pogodin aimed the truck's antenna toward the southern bore hole, and Vielgorsky sent a message to Yazykov and Belozersky:

"Our fourth chamber troops have captured Mirsky and henchmen in third chamber library. Join us there. Trial will be held in library."

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Two

They watched in silence as the red line of the singularity guided them toward the black shield. Lanier joined Farley and Carrolson in the rear, trying to make sense out of the instruments. They periodically registered meaningful data, but not often enough to be of much use.

"Something approaching along the singularity—It's a machine, big and black," Heineman said. "Coming up fast. . .” Lanier pushed himself forward.

Straddling the glowing red line, a machine twice as thick as the tuberider, round in cross section, bore down on them, its surface a glossy black. Bright purple lines on the machine's surface outlined squares and rectangles in symmetric arrays. Lanier watched in fascination as the squares and rectangles opened to extrude grapplers and a variety of jointed arms. It now resembled a deep-ocean submersible—or a madman's Swiss Army knife. "What's it going to do?"

"It's matching speed. Looks like it's—"

Colored lights flashed in the cabin. Heineman flinched and drew back; Lanier closed his eyes and batted out with his hands. "What was that?" Carrolson called from the rear. Red and green translucent objects danced again before Lanier. He reached out to touch one, but it was insubstantial.

"They're symbols or something," Heineman said. "You see them?"

"I see them," Lanier said. "I don't know what they are, or where they're coming from."

The radio hissed again. "Please state your identity and reason for approaching the Axis City shield."

Lanier took the mike from Heineman. "I'm Garry Lanier." That'll clue them, he thought ruefully. "We're exploring. If there are problems—"

"Do you wish an advocate?"

"I'm sorry—what?"

"You will be assigned an advocate immediately. Are you a corporeal human claiming the appropriate rights in the Hexamon Court?"

"Say yes," Carrolson advised.

"Yes."

"You will now be removed from the flaw and escorted to Axis Nader."

The machine ran one arm down the underside of the tuberider. Flying sparks obscured the windscreen; the V/STOL rolled and vibrated. Gas hissed against the fuselage and alarms went off in the cockpit; there was a wrenching sound, and with a jerk, they floated free.

The tuberider had been cut from the singularity and cast adrift. The V/STOL had then been removed from the tuberider.

Heineman peered up at the bright red line and the dark machine, which still clung to the stern of the mangled and useless tuberider. "It's pulled us out of the mounting," he said, voice thick with anger. The aircraft had drifted thirty or thirty-five meters. "I'm going back to check integrity."

Lanier pulled himself into the copilot's seat. He methodically strapped himself in and tried to control his breathing. Just like ditching, he thought. No worse, perhaps better—