SURVIVAL TACTICS

 By AL SEVCIK

 ILLUSTRATOR NOVICK

 _The robots were built to serve Man; to do his work, see to his comforts, make smooth his way. Then the robots figured out an additional service--putting Man out of his misery. _

There was a sudden crash that hung sharply in the air, as if a tree hadbeen hit by lightning some distance away. Then another. Alan stopped, puzzled. Two more blasts, quickly together, and the sound of a screamfaintly. 

Frowning, worrying about the sounds, Alan momentarily forgot to watchhis step until his foot suddenly plunged into an ant hill, throwing himto the jungle floor. "Damn!" He cursed again, for the tenth time, andstood uncertainly in the dimness. From tall, moss-shrouded trees, wrist-thick vines hung quietly, scraping the spongy ground like thetentacles of some monstrous tree-bound octopus. Fitful little plantsgrew straggly in the shadows of the mossy trunks, forming a denseunderbrush that made walking difficult. At midday some few of the bluesun's rays filtered through to the jungle floor, but now, late afternoonon the planet, the shadows were long and gloomy. 

Alan peered around him at the vine-draped shadows, listening to the softrustlings and faint twig-snappings of life in the jungle. Two short, popping sounds echoed across the stillness, drowned out almostimmediately and silenced by an explosive crash. Alan started, "Blasterfighting! But it can't be!"

Suddenly anxious, he slashed a hurried X in one of the trees to mark hisposition then turned to follow a line of similar marks back through thejungle. He tried to run, but vines blocked his way and woody shrubscaught at his legs, tripping him and holding him back. Then, throughthe trees he saw the clearing of the camp site, the temporary home forthe scout ship and the eleven men who, with Alan, were the only humanson the jungle planet, Waiamea. 

 * * * * *

Stepping through the low shrubbery at the edge of the site, he lookedacross the open area to the two temporary structures, the campheadquarters where the power supplies and the computer were; and thesleeping quarters. Beyond, nose high, stood the silver scout ship thathad brought the advance exploratory party of scientists and techniciansto Waiamea three days before. Except for a few of the killer robotsrolling slowly around the camp site on their quiet treads, there was noone about. 

"So, they've finally got those things working. " Alan smiled slightly. "Guess that means I owe Pete a bourbon-and-soda for sure. Anybody whocan build a robot that hunts by homing in on animals' mind impulses . .. "He stepped forward just as a roar of blue flame dissolved the branchesof a tree, barely above his head. 

Without pausing to think, Alan leaped back, and fell sprawling over abush just as one of the robots rolled silently up from the right, lowering its blaster barrel to aim directly at his head. Alan froze. "MyGod, Pete built those things wrong!"

Suddenly a screeching whirlwind of claws and teeth hurled itself fromthe smoldering branches and crashed against the robot, clawing insanelyat the antenna and blaster barrel. With an awkward jerk the robot swungaround and fired its blaster, completely dissolving the lower half ofthe cat creature which had clung across the barrel. But the backpressure of the cat's body overloaded the discharge circuits. The robotstarted to shake, then clicked sharply as an overload relay snapped andshorted the blaster cells. The killer turned and rolled back towards thecamp, leaving Alan alone. 

Shakily, Alan crawled a few feet back into the undergrowth where hecould lie and watch the camp, but not himself be seen. Though visibilitydidn't make any difference to the robots, he felt safer, somehow, hidden. He knew now what the shooting sounds had been and why therehadn't been anyone around the camp site. A charred blob lying in thegrass of the clearing confirmed his hypothesis. His stomach felt sick. 

"I suppose, " he muttered to himself, "that Pete assembled these robotsin a batch and then activated them all at once, probably never living torealize that they're tuned to pick up human brain waves, too. Damn!Damn!" His eyes blurred and he slammed his fist into the soft earth. 

When he raised his eyes again the jungle was perceptibly darker. Stealthy rustlings in the shadows grew louder with the setting sun. Branches snapped unaccountably in the trees overhead and every now andthen leaves or a twig fell softly to the ground, close to where he lay. Reaching into his jacket, Alan fingered his pocket blaster. He pulled itout and held it in his right hand. "This pop gun wouldn't even singe arobot, but it just might stop one of those pumas. "

[Illustration: They said the blast with your name on it would find youanywhere. This looked like Alan's blast. ]

Slowly Alan looked around, sizing up his situation. Behind him the darkjungle rustled forbiddingly. He shuddered. "Not a very healthy spot tospend the night. On the other hand, I certainly can't get to the campwith a pack of mind-activated mechanical killers running around. If Ican just hold out until morning, when the big ship arrives . .. The bigship! Good Lord, Peggy!" He turned white; oily sweat punctuated hisforehead. Peggy, arriving tomorrow with the other colonists, the wivesand kids! The metal killers, tuned to blast any living flesh, wouldmurder them the instant they stepped from the ship!

 * * * * *

A pretty girl, Peggy, the girl he'd married just three weeks ago. Hestill couldn't believe it. It was crazy, he supposed, to marry a girland then take off for an unknown planet, with her to follow, to try tocreate a home in a jungle clearing. Crazy maybe, but Peggy and her greeneyes that changed color with the light, with her soft brown hair, andher happy smile, had ended thirty years of loneliness and had, at last, given him a reason for living. "Not to be killed!" Alan unclenched hisfists and wiped his palms, bloody where his fingernails had dug into theflesh. 

There was a slight creak above him like the protesting of a branch tooheavily laden. Blaster ready, Alan rolled over onto his back. In themovement, his elbow struck the top of a small earthy mound and he wasinstantly engulfed in a swarm of locust-like insects that beatdisgustingly against his eyes and mouth. "Fagh!" Waving his arms beforehis face he jumped up and backwards, away from the bugs. As he did so, adark shapeless thing plopped from the trees onto the spot where he hadbeen lying stretched out. Then, like an ambient fungus, it slithered offinto the jungle undergrowth. 

For a split second the jungle stood frozen in a brilliant blue flash, followed by the sharp report of a blaster. Then another. Alan whirled, startled. The planet's double moon had risen and he could see a robotrolling slowly across the clearing in his general direction, blastingindiscriminately at whatever mind impulses came within its pickup range, birds, insects, anything. Six or seven others also left the campheadquarters area and headed for the jungle, each to a slightlydifferent spot. 

Apparently the robot hadn't sensed him yet, but Alan didn't know whatthe effective range of its pickup devices was. He began to slide backinto the jungle. Minutes later, looking back he saw that the machine, though several hundred yards away, had altered its course and was nowheaded directly for him. 

His stomach tightened. Panic. The dank, musty smell of the jungle seemedfor an instant to thicken and choke in his throat. Then he thought ofthe big ship landing in the morning, settling down slowly after a lonelytwo-week voyage. He thought of a brown-haired girl crowding with theothers to the gangway, eager to embrace the new planet, and the nextinstant a charred nothing, unrecognizable, the victim of a design erroror a misplaced wire in a machine. "I have to try, " he said aloud. "Ihave to try. " He moved into the blackness. 

Powerful as a small tank, the killer robot was equipped to crush, slash, and burn its way through undergrowth. Nevertheless, it was slowed by thelarger trees and the thick, clinging vines, and Alan found that he couldmanage to keep ahead of it, barely out of blaster range. Only, the robotdidn't get tired. Alan did. 

The twin moons cast pale, deceptive shadows that wavered and dancedacross the jungle floor, hiding debris that tripped him and often senthim sprawling into the dark. Sharp-edged growths tore at his face andclothes, and insects attracted by the blood matted against his pants andshirt. Behind, the robot crashed imperturbably after him, lighting thenight with fitful blaster flashes as some winged or legged life camewithin its range. 

There was movement also, in the darkness beside him, scrapings andrustlings and an occasional low, throaty sound like an angry cat. Alan'sfingers tensed on his pocket blaster. Swift shadowy forms moved quicklyin the shrubs and the growling became suddenly louder. He fired twice, blindly, into the undergrowth. Sharp screams punctuated the electricblue discharge as a pack of small feline creatures leaped snarling andclawing back into the night. 

 * * * * *

Mentally, Alan tried to figure the charge remaining in his blaster. There wouldn't be much. "Enough for a few more shots, maybe. Why thedevil didn't I load in fresh cells this morning!"

The robot crashed on, louder now, gaining on the tired human. Legsaching and bruised, stinging from insect bites, Alan tried to forcehimself to run holding his hands in front of him like a child in thedark. His foot tripped on a barely visible insect hill and a wingedswarm exploded around him. Startled, Alan jerked sideways, crashing hishead against a tree. He clutched at the bark for a second, dazed, thenhis knees buckled. His blaster fell into the shadows. 

The robot crashed loudly behind him now. Without stopping to think, Alanfumbled along the ground after his gun, straining his eyes in thedarkness. He found it just a couple of feet to one side, against thebase of a small bush. Just as his fingers closed upon the barrel hisother hand slipped into something sticky that splashed over his forearm. He screamed in pain and leaped back, trying frantically to wipe theclinging, burning blackness off his arm. Patches of black scraped offonto branches and vines, but the rest spread slowly over his arm asagonizing as hot acid, or as flesh being ripped away layer by layer. 

Almost blinded by pain, whimpering, Alan stumbled forward. Sharp musclespasms shot from his shoulder across his back and chest. Tears streamedacross his cheeks. 

A blue arc slashed at the trees a mere hundred yards behind. He screamedat the blast. "Damn you, Pete! Damn your robots! Damn, damn . .. Oh, Peggy!" He stepped into emptiness. 

Coolness. Wet. Slowly, washed by the water, the pain began to fall away. He wanted to lie there forever in the dark, cool, wetness. For ever, andever, and . .. The air thundered. 

In the dim light he could see the banks of the stream, higher than aman, muddy and loose. Growing right to the edge of the banks, the junglereached out with hairy, disjointed arms as if to snag even the dirtylittle stream that passed so timidly through its domain. 

Alan, lying in the mud of the stream bed, felt the earth shake as theheavy little robot rolled slowly and inexorably towards him. "The LordHigh Executioner, " he thought, "in battle dress. " He tried to stand buthis legs were almost too weak and his arm felt numb. "I'll drown him, "he said aloud. "I'll drown the Lord High Executioner. " He laughed. Thenhis mind cleared. He remembered where he was. 

 * * * * *

Alan trembled. For the first time in his life he understood what it wasto live, because for the first time he realized that he would sometimedie. In other times and circumstances he might put it off for a while, for months or years, but eventually, as now, he would have to watch, still and helpless, while death came creeping. Then, at thirty, Alanbecame a man. 

"Dammit, no law says I have to flame-out _now_!" He forced himself torise, forced his legs to stand, struggling painfully in the shin-deepooze. He worked his way to the bank and began to dig frenziedly, chesthigh, about two feet below the edge. 

His arm where the black thing had been was swollen and tender, but heforced his hands to dig, dig, dig, cursing and crying to hide the pain, and biting his lips, ignoring the salty taste of blood. The soft earthcrumbled under his hands until he had a small cave about three feet deepin the bank. Beyond that the soil was held too tightly by the roots fromabove and he had to stop. 

 * * * * *

The air crackled blue and a tree crashed heavily past Alan into thestream. Above him on the bank, silhouetting against the moons, thekiller robot stopped and its blaster swivelled slowly down. Frantically, Alan hugged the bank as a shaft of pure electricity arced over him, sliced into the water, and exploded in a cloud of steam. The robot shookfor a second, its blaster muzzle lifted erratically and for an instantit seemed almost out of control, then it quieted and the muzzle againpointed down. 

Pressing with all his might, Alan slid slowly along the bank inches at atime, away from the machine above. Its muzzle turned to follow him butthe edge of the bank blocked its aim. Grinding forward a couple of feet, slightly overhanging the bank, the robot fired again. For a split secondAlan seemed engulfed in flame; the heat of hell singed his head andback, and mud boiled in the bank by his arm. 

Again the robot trembled. It jerked forward a foot and its blaster swungslightly away. But only for a moment. Then the gun swung back again. 

Suddenly, as if sensing something wrong, its tracks slammed intoreverse. It stood poised for a second, its treads spinning crazily asthe earth collapsed underneath it, where Alan had dug, then it fell witha heavy splash into the mud, ten feet from where Alan stood. 

Without hesitation Alan threw himself across the blaster housing, frantically locking his arms around the barrel as the robot's treadschurned furiously in the sticky mud, causing it to buck and plunge likea Brahma bull. The treads stopped and the blaster jerked upwardswrenching Alan's arms, then slammed down. Then the whole housing whirledaround and around, tilting alternately up and down like a steel-skinnedwater monster trying to dislodge a tenacious crab, while Alan, arms andlegs wrapped tightly around the blaster barrel and housing, pressedfiercely against the robot's metal skin. 

Slowly, trying to anticipate and shift his weight with the spinningplunges, Alan worked his hand down to his right hip. He fumbled for thesheath clipped to his belt, found it, and extracted a stubby huntingknife. Sweat and blood in his eyes, hardly able to move on the wildlyswinging turret, he felt down the sides to the thin crack between therevolving housing and the stationary portion of the robot. With a quickprayer he jammed in the knife blade--and was whipped headlong into themud as the turret literally snapped to a stop. 

The earth, jungle and moons spun in a pinwheeled blur, slowed, andsettled to their proper places. Standing in the sticky, sweet-smellingooze, Alan eyed the robot apprehensively. Half buried in mud, it stoodquiet in the shadowy light except for an occasional, almost spasmodicjerk of its blaster barrel. For the first time that night Alan allowedhimself a slight smile. "A blade in the old gear box, eh? How does thatfeel, boy?"

He turned. "Well, I'd better get out of here before the knife slips orthe monster cooks up some more tricks with whatever it's got for abrain. " Digging little footholds in the soft bank, he climbed up andstood once again in the rustling jungle darkness. 

"I wonder, " he thought, "how Pete could cram enough brain into one ofthose things to make it hunt and track so perfectly. " He tried tovisualize the computing circuits needed for the operation of itstracking mechanism alone. "There just isn't room for the electronics. You'd need a computer as big as the one at camp headquarters. "

 * * * * *

In the distance the sky blazed as a blaster roared in the jungle. ThenAlan heard the approaching robot, crunching and snapping its way throughthe undergrowth like an onrushing forest fire. He froze. "Good Lord!They communicate with each other! The one I jammed must be callingothers to help. "

He began to move along the bank, away from the crashing sounds. Suddenlyhe stopped, his eyes widened. "Of course! Radio! I'll bet anythingthey're automatically controlled by the camp computer. That's where theirbrain is!" He paused. "Then, if that were put out of commission . .. " Hejerked away from the bank and half ran, half pulled himself through theundergrowth towards the camp. 

Trees exploded to his left as another robot fired in his direction, toofar away to be effective but churning towards him through the blackness. 

Alan changed direction slightly to follow a line between the two robotscoming up from either side, behind him. His eyes were well accustomed tothe dark now, and he managed to dodge most of the shadowy vines andbranches before they could snag or trip him. Even so, he stumbled in thewiry underbrush and his legs were a mass of stinging slashes from ankleto thigh. 

The crashing rumble of the killer robots shook the night behind him, nearer sometimes, then falling slightly back, but following constantly, more unshakable than bloodhounds because a man can sometimes cover ascent, but no man can stop his thoughts. Intermittently, likephotographers' strobes, blue flashes would light the jungle about him. Then, for seconds afterwards his eyes would see dancing streaks ofyellow and sharp multi-colored pinwheels that alternately shrunk andexpanded as if in a surrealist's nightmare. Alan would have to pause andsqueeze his eyelids tight shut before he could see again, and the robotswould move a little closer. 

To his right the trees silhouetted briefly against brilliance as a thirdrobot slowly moved up in the distance. Without thinking, Alan turnedslightly to the left, then froze in momentary panic. "I should be at thecamp now. Damn, what direction am I going?" He tried to think back, tovisualize the twists and turns he'd taken in the jungle. "All I need isto get lost. "

He pictured the camp computer with no one to stop it, automaticallysending its robots in wider and wider forays, slowly wiping every traceof life from the planet. Technologically advanced machines doing the jobfor which they were built, completely, thoroughly, without feeling, andwithout human masters to separate sense from futility. Finally partswould wear out, circuits would short, and one by one the killers wouldcrunch to a halt. A few birds would still fly then, but a unique animallife, rare in the universe, would exist no more. And the bones ofchildren, eager girls, and their men would also lie, beside a rustyhulk, beneath the alien sun. 

"Peggy!"

As if in answer, a tree beside him breathed fire, then exploded. In thebrief flash of the blaster shot, Alan saw the steel glint of a robotonly a hundred yards away, much nearer than he had thought. "Thankheaven for trees!" He stepped back, felt his foot catch in something, clutched futilely at some leaves and fell heavily. 

Pain danced up his leg as he grabbed his ankle. Quickly he felt thethrobbing flesh. "Damn the rotten luck, anyway!" He blinked the paintears from his eyes and looked up--into a robot's blaster, jutting outof the foliage, thirty yards away. 

 * * * * *

Instinctively, in one motion Alan grabbed his pocket blaster and fired. To his amazement the robot jerked back, its gun wobbled and started totilt away. Then, getting itself under control, it swung back again toface Alan. He fired again, and again the robot reacted. It seemedfamiliar somehow. Then he remembered the robot on the river bank, jiggling and swaying for seconds after each shot. "Of course!" He cursedhimself for missing the obvious. "The blaster static blanks out radiotransmission from the computer for a few seconds. They even do it tothemselves!"

Firing intermittently, he pulled himself upright and hobbled aheadthrough the bush. The robot shook spasmodically with each shot, its guntilted upward at an awkward angle. 

Then, unexpectedly, Alan saw stars, real stars brilliant in the nightsky, and half dragging his swelling leg he stumbled out of the jungleinto the camp clearing. Ahead, across fifty yards of grass stood theheadquarters building, housing the robot-controlling computer. Stillfiring at short intervals he started across the clearing, gritting histeeth at every step. 

Straining every muscle in spite of the agonizing pain, Alan forcedhimself to a limping run across the uneven ground, carefully avoidingthe insect hills that jutted up through the grass. From the corner ofhis eye he saw another of the robots standing shakily in the dark edgeof the jungle waiting, it seemed, for his small blaster to run dry. 

"Be damned! You can't win now!" Alan yelled between blaster shots, almost irrational from the pain that ripped jaggedly through his leg. Then it happened. A few feet from the building's door his blaster quit. A click. A faint hiss when he frantically jerked the trigger again andagain, and the spent cells released themselves from the device, fallingin the grass at his feet. He dropped the useless gun. 

"No!" He threw himself on the ground as a new robot suddenly appearedaround the edge of the building a few feet away, aimed, and fired. Airburned over Alan's back and ozone tingled in his nostrils. 

Blinding itself for a few seconds with its own blaster static, the robotpaused momentarily, jiggling in place. In this instant, Alan jammed hishands into an insect hill and hurled the pile of dirt and insectsdirectly at the robot's antenna. In a flash, hundreds of the wingedthings erupted angrily from the hole in a swarming cloud, each part ofwhich was a speck of life transmitting mental energy to the robot'spickup devices. 

Confused by the sudden dispersion of mind impulses, the robot firederratically as Alan crouched and raced painfully for the door. It firedagain, closer, as he fumbled with the lock release. Jagged bits ofplastic and stone ripped past him, torn loose by the blast. 

Frantically, Alan slammed open the door as the robot, sensing himstrongly now, aimed point blank. He saw nothing, his mind thought ofnothing but the red-clad safety switch mounted beside the computer. Timestopped. There was nothing else in the world. He half-jumped, half-felltowards it, slowly, in tenths of seconds that seemed measured out inyears. 

The universe went black. 

Later. Brilliance pressed upon his eyes. Then pain returned, amulti-hurting thing that crawled through his body and dragged raggedtentacles across his brain. He moaned. 

A voice spoke hollowly in the distance. "He's waking. Call his wife. "

Alan opened his eyes in a white room; a white light hung over his head. Beside him, looking down with a rueful smile, stood a young man wearingspace medical insignia. "Yes, " he acknowledged the question in Alan'seyes, "you hit the switch. That was three days ago. When you're up againwe'd all like to thank you. "

Suddenly a sobbing-laughing green-eyed girl was pressed tightly againsthim. Neither of them spoke. They couldn't. There was too much to say. 

THE END

Transcriber's Note:

 This etext was produced from _Amazing Science Fiction Stories_ October 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U. S. Copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.