"Lab doors locked," he said casually. "Open it."
The door shot back. Lights went on.
The room was a shambles. Planting boxes were overthrown, ripped loose, pipes twisted, planting medium scattered everywhere, the floor, the walls. Some of the boxes were partially melted, riddled with laser fire.
He backed out, quietly, quickly. Closed the door. Walked back to the lift, his footsteps echoing faster and faster on the decking. He opened the lift door, stepped in, pushed the button for topside.
It took him up. He left it, walking now as quickly, as normally, as he could, not favoring his leg. Annehad left the living quarters. He went by the vacant table, to the bridge corridor, to the closed door at the end. He used his cardkey.
It stayed shut.
" Anne," he said, "you have a malfunction. There's no longer an emergency. Please clear the emergency lock on the bridge. I have a critical problem involving maintenance. I need to get to controls right now."
A delay. The speaker near his head came on. "Emergency procedure remains in effect. Access not permitted."
" Anne. We have a paradox here. The problem involves your mistake."
"Clarify: mistake."
"You've perceived a false emergency. You've initiated wrong procedures. Some of your equipment is damaged. Cancel emergency. This is a code nine. Cancel emergency and open this door."
A further delay. "Negative. Access denied."
" Anne." He pushed the button again. It was dead. He heard a heavy step in the corridor behind him. He jerked about with his back to the door and looked into Anne's dark faceplate with its dancing stars. "Open it," he said. "I'm in pain, Anne. The pain won't stop until you cancel emergency procedure and open this door."
"Please adjust yourself."
"I'm not malfunctioning. I need this door opened." He forced calm into his voice, adopted a reasoning tone. "The ship is in danger, Anne. I have to get in there."
"Please go back to permitted areas, Warren."
He caught his breath, stared at her, then edged past her carefully, down the corridor to the living quarters. She was at his back, still, following.
"Is this a permitted area?" he asked.
"Yes, Warren."
"I want a cup of coffee. Bring it."
"Yes, Warren."
She walked out into the main corridor. The door closed behind her. He delayed a moment till he heard the lift, then went and tried it. Dead. " Anne. Now there's a malfunction with number two access. Will you do something about it?"
"Access not permitted."
"I need a bath, Anne. I need to go down to the showers." A delay. "This is not an emergency procedure. Please wait f6r assistance." A scream welled up in him. He swallowed it, smoothed his hand over the metal as if it were skin.
"All right. All right, Anne." He turned, walked back to his own quarters. The clothes and food were gone from the bed.
The manual. He went to the viewer. The microfilm was gone. He searched the drawer where he kept it. It was not there.
Panic surged up in him. He stifled it, walked out. He walked back to the table, sat down—heard the lift operating finally. Heard her footsteps. The door opened.
"Coffee, Warren."
"Thank you, Annie."
She set the cup down, poured his coffee. Hydraulics worked in the ship, massive movement, high on the frame. The turret rotating. Warren looked up. "What's that, Anne?"
"Armaments, Warren."
The electronic snap of the cannon jolted the ship. He sprang up from his chair and Anneset down the coffee pot.
" Anne. Anne, cancel weapons. Cancel!"
The firing went on.
"Cancel refused," Annesaid.
" Anne—show me. . . what you're shooting at. Put it on the screen." The wallscreen lit, the black of night, a thin line of orange: a horizon, ablaze with fires.
" You're killing it!"
"Vegetation, Warren. Emergency program is proceeding."
" Anne." He seized her metal, unflexing arm. "Cancel program."
"Negative."
"On what reasoning? Anne—turn on your sensor box. Turn it on. Scan the area."
"It is operating, Warren. I'm using it to refine target. Possibly the equipment will survive. Possibly I can recover it. Please adjust yourself, Warren. Your voice indicates stress."
"It's life you're killing out there!"
"Vegetation, Warren. This is a priority, but overridden. I'm programmed to make value judgments. I've exercised my override reflex. This is a rational function. Please adjust yourself, Warren."
"The lab. You destroyed the lab. Why?"
"I don't like vegetation, Warren."
"Don't like?
"Yes, Warren. This seems descriptive."
" Anne, you're malfunctioning. Listen to me. You'll have to shut down for a few moments. I won't damage you or interfere with your standing instructions. I'm your crew, Anne. Shut down."
"I can't accept this instruction, Warren. One of my functions is preservation of myself. You're my highest priority. To preserve you I have to preserve myself. Please adjust yourself, Warren."
" Anne, let me out. Let me out of here."
"No, Warren."
The firing stopped. On the screen the fires continued to burn. He looked at it, leaned on the back of the chair, shaking.
"Assistance?"
"Go to hell."
"I can't go to hell, Warren. I have to hold this position."
" Anne. Anne—listen. I found a being out there. A sapient life form. In the forest. I talked with it. You're killing a sapient being, you hear me?"
A delay. "My sensors detected nothing. Your activities are erratic and injurious. I record your observation. Please provide data."
"Your sensor box. Turn it on."
"It's still operating, Warren."
"It was there. The life was there, when I was. I can go back. I can prove it. I talked to it, Anne."
"There was no other life there."
"Because your sensor unit couldn't register it. Because your sensors aren't sensitive enough. Because you're not human, Anne."
"I have recorded sounds. Identify."
The wallscreen flicked to a view of the grove. The wind sighed in the leaves; something babbled. A human figure lay writhing on the ground, limbs jerking, mouth working with the sounds. Himself. The murmur was his own voice, inebriate and slurred.
He turned his face from it. "Cut it off. Cut it off, Anne." The sound stopped. The screen was blank and white when he turned his head again. He leaned there a time. There was a void in him where life had been. Where he had imagined life. He sat down at the table, wiped his eyes.
After a moment he picked up the coffee and drank.
"Are you adjusted, Warren?"
"Yes. Yes, Anne."
"Emergency program will continue until all surrounds are sterilized." He sat staring at his hands, at the cup before him. "And then what will I do?" Annewalked to the end of the table, sat down, propped her elbows on the table, head on hands, sensor lights blinking in continuous operation.