Aliens Vs Predator - Hunter's Planet Part 4

The samurai raised his sword and, screaming, ran forward.

Machiko Noguchi feinted to meet him headlong, then at the last possible moment stepped aside. She flicked her sword down, then up and under the skillful but infuriated blow, and its blade slammed up the vulnerable break in the armor, cutting into the man's body.

The man's face grimaced a suitable expression of pain and surprise, and his mouth opened to let out a howl of extreme anguish.

Machiko's sword whipped through s.h.i.+mmering light, coming out on the other side at full speed.

The man disappeared in a snap.

Machiko had to control the sword. She deflected its pa.s.sage so that it whacked down into the sod.

She took a breath and steadied her nerves.

"Excellent," piped a voice beside her. "Absolutely excellent, Machiko."

She turned and looked at the speaker. There he was, beside that rock, crouching down so as to be out of the scenario that he had so ably created.

The holo-tube was already retracting into its compartment in his forehead.

"Thanks," she said.

She suppressed a smile. It would not be advisable to give old A the H too much encouragement.

He stood up, dusting off his khaki knees, straightening his immaculate bush jacket just so. "You've utilized the Sun Tzu's principles very well," p.r.o.nounced the android in a clipped, punctilious tone that had an old-time mid-Atlantic quality to it.

"Pardon me?"

"Sun Tzu. The Art of War, of course."

"Oh, yes. I thought you were talking about some kind of disease-carrying fly"

"That, I believe, is the tsetse."

"Yes, yes, along with many other fine principles, Attila. You reiterate them to me constantly. I don't necessarily have to be able to cough up whole sentences at the drop of a nunchuck! At some point, however, it all gets a.s.similated into my subconscious. It looked like a pretty obvious opening, though. You made the samurai display the flaw of pride and anger. I'm well acquainted with those flaws, and I know how to use that weakness in others.

It's a common trait, I believe, in men-and I traveled awhile with super, well, if not supermen, then at least exaggerated men."

Attila looked a little troubled. "I wouldn't know. I don't have a subconscious. Perhaps I should save my money and buy one some day."

They were about three kilometers out in the plains of Machiko Noguchi's work world. It was the corporation's bureaucratic equivalent of Sat.u.r.day, and Machiko used the day in her usual fas.h.i.+on.

Exercises.

Fighting exercises with Attila the Hun, her robot, to be precise.

Keep the body trim. Keep the soul sleek. Keep the old noodle alive. That was the ticket. Even when she'd been a.s.signed out here in Zerosville, she'd realized that she was going to have to have some kind of trainer, some kind of companion, and since she wasn't quite certain of the human availability in these departments out here in the hinter worlds, she'd bought herself a robot.

Well, "android" was the proper term, really, but as far as she was concerned, Attila was a robot. He'd been a number when she'd bought him, and she'd renamed him. It wasn't often that a private citizen was able to afford the expense, and she'd had to get the Company's approval. However, she'd explained in no uncertain terms what she'd needed the thing for, and since the Company was quite aware of her past and wanted to placate her as much as to get this loose cannon off their main deck, they'd complied. She had the money, and if she wanted to use it on a fabricated companion, well, what difference did it make if she used it to fight with or to fornicate with?

Attila the Hun was not the normal android used by the corporation. He was not an Artificial Person in the usual semiorganic sense, but rather a more mechanical sort. His strata of models was created to be affordable to the average populace, and used for commercial or private reasons rather than military or s.p.a.ce exploration.

She programmed Attila to her specifications.

Unfortunately, she didn't know quite what to do with the personality that came along with the whole package.

"A beautiful day, Miss Noguchi, is it not?" said Attila, casting a smileacross the plains.

Machiko granted.

"Not feeling particularly articulate today?"

"I just get really annoyed when you call me 'Miss,' dammit."

"You're not married."

"Look, we've gone over this a hundred times before. I wasn't aware that I hadn't had your previous programs erased, okay? I didn't realize that you had such a complex background. I realize that I can't erase them now without erasing you in toto. Can't you try to selectively erase habits--like calling me 'Miss'?"

"Certainly."

"Well, do it."

"You're not in a very good mood today, are you, Ms. Noguchi?"

"Machiko. Please, just call me Machiko."

"Oh, excellent. I enjoy our informal exchanges. It's nice to relate to you when you unleash me from the closet to do your will with me."

"Right. Like you haven't got a life."

"My life is to serve."

"And to watch your tapes and catalog your music."

"One has to fill the spare moments."

"I should have had you programmed to clean and cook. That's what I should have done."

"I do my share."

"You can boil water and that's about it."

"You forget that although I have senses, they have to be calibrated to the proper specifications to cook to your taste. Also, I would clean more, if your odd meditation exercises did not call for such Spartan quarters and your regimen did not call for your cleaning it yourself, as part of your kata."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just in a b.i.t.c.hy mood. Maybe defeating holographic opponents isn't quite as satisfying as the thunk of real flesh, the splash of real blood."

"I'm sorry. I'm not equipped with those sorts of simulations. Again, you attempt to make me feel inferior."

"Nothing of the sort."

Attila suddenly smiled, and it was a revelation. Usually when in repose that face was dark and dour. With a dark complexion, dark eyes, a natural frown, and a sharp, perfect nose set in a thin face topped with a perfect short gentleman's haircut, Attila looked more like a mopey Neapolitan young man than a Germanic Hun. However, when he smiled, showing perfectly shaped white teeth, the entire face seemed to light up into a different dimension.Moments like this made Machiko forget entirely that he wasn't a human being.

Moments like this also made her remember that she was a human being.

She'd always prided herself on her cool, her control. Her glacial characteristics had caused a.s.sociates to dub her "Ice Princess" or "Snow Queen." She had had very few friends. Her pride in life was remaining tough, cool, and efficient.

She had changed somewhat after her experience with the yautja. True, she had been more comfortable in some ways with creatures who had rules of behavior among them and who generally obeyed those rules. However, they were alien, and she was human. Her experience on Gordian made her realize that she had a deep instinctual love for, and loyalty to, humanity. She respected the yautja. In many ways she had become one of them. But she had discovered that she would have to do so in human terms and so was now trying to explore different dimensions of her humanity. This did not mean that she could deal with other people that well. However, she was trying. One of the best parts of being with Attila was that she felt comfortable with him and could be playful or b.i.t.c.hy, cold or charming, and experiment with emerging aspects of her personality.

"Oh, good," said Attila. "Then you'll snap out of your funk and agree with me that it's a beautiful day. I mean, all the evidence is here before you."

Machiko looked around.

The scent of her own exercise had dissipated somewhat, so she was able to notice the smells around her. Prominent, of course, was the gra.s.s. Not Earth-type gra.s.s, but on the same principle, short and green and cast over everything like a luxuriant rug. It was this area's version of summer here, pleasantly warm, just as the area's version of winter was pleasantly cold. In between were the long, long autumn and spring, king and queen of this world of the bland and the mild.

Flowers.

That was what Attila was talking about, of course.

The floral addition was truly pleasant and combined with the odd shadings of color combed into the surroundings, poking out of unexpected spots in ochers and magentas and bright slashes of camellia. That, along with the uncommon blue-green of the sky, the way the c.u.mulus clouds navigated the vastly, silent reaches of it, and out beyond the reaches and humps of hills and flats, the faint suggestion of mountain peaks.

A slight, fragrant breeze ruffled Machiko's still short black hair, cooled the still-hot blooding mark on her forehead, that afterimage of lightning ....

"Nice."

"Nice?" The robot's eyebrows rose with surprise. "Merely 'nice'? Where are your aesthetics?"

She shrugged. "It has a kind of unruly, boring attractiveness, I suppose.

You forget my background, though."

A curious c.o.c.k of the head. A finger lifted in understanding. "Ah, yes. As j.a.panese, you must prefer the more regulated and disciplined beauty of a garden." "I'm not saying I don't enjoy wild beauty. I learned to thrill at the wastes of Ryus.h.i.+, the violent dawns, the harsh sunsets . . . ."

"Perhaps your opinion is presently reflected by your state of mind."

"Oh?"

"You are not a content individual?"

"Oh, right . . . and you are?"

The robot shrugged. "As an android, I am merely content to be an individual."

"Freedom in bondage, eh?"

"I do not consider my service with you as bondage, though I suppose legally and technically it might be considered so."

"Oh, for emanc.i.p.ation! Let my people go."

Attila's face a.s.sumed a rather hurt expression.

"Perhaps we should continue our exercises."

Machiko took out a scarf and wiped away a residue of sweat from her exertions. "I think I want to break for lunch. Maybe we can do some war maneuvers later this afternoon."

Attila shot an arm forward and made a show of scrutinizing his wrist.w.a.tch.

"I believe I can fit you into my schedule."

"Well, how thoughtful of you. There's a nice little bistro in town I thought we could go to."

"Well, since there's only one bistro in town, I believe I know the one of which you speak. It's a shame you didn't bring a picnic lunch. We could have lingered and enjoyed the day . . ." He slapped his chin with exaggerated revelation. "But oh, my. How could I have forgotten?"

Attila fairly skipped over to the omniterrain vehicle, opened the trunk, and pulled out a basket covered with a red-and-white-checked towel. He whipped this off to reveal sandwiches, apples, and a bottle of red wine.

Machiko gave a grudging smile. "I didn't realize that you were programmed to be thoughtful."

"All androids have areas of lat.i.tude within which to move."

"It's the areas of longitude that trouble me."

Attila sniffed with fake huffiness. "Perhaps you should just partake, enjoy, and then criticize if the fare does not meet your high standards."

She laughed. "Come on, Attila. You're just trying to cheer me up." She followed him over to the boulder, where he motioned to a place where they could sit.

"Yes. I confess. And with good reason. Life is so much more pleasant when you're in a reasonable mood." He began to unpack the basket and place the meal on the table like rock. He lifted a small vase, complete with diamond-petaled flower, and made it the centerpiece for this sumptuous display. "There. Toyour liking?"

She nodded. "A pleasant surprise."

"There is more to existence than the Art of War."

"That's nice to know. What kind of sandwich is this?" She began to unwrap the cellophane.

"Taste it. Guess."

"I hope this isn't some kind of new martial-arts exercise."

"What? Sandwich karate?"

"Complete with the Movement of the Lettuce and Mustard?"

"And the Pickle on the Side Kick? Hardly. May I suggest that you taste it?"

She did. From one look at the contents between the rye slices she was able to guess that it was some kind of meat pate, and the color was liverish---but surely not . . .

She bit into it, and her eyes lit up.

"Foie gras!"

"The genuine article."