The Rising Sea

59

Han ran when the shooting started, just like everyone else. But he ran for other reasons. And he ran in a different direction. He charged through the back of the pavilion and raced down the access stairs. Several policemen passed him, rushing in the opposite direction and not giving him a second glance.

He reached the bottom floor and the door that Nagano’s facsimile was supposed to be guarding. The machine was nowhere in sight and Han didn’t bother looking for it. He pushed the door open and raced outside.

His limousine was parked in the VIP lot, around the side. He marched toward it and then stopped cold. The police had the limo surrounded. As Han watched, they pulled the door open, dragged his chauffeur out and forced him to lie on the ground.

Han turned and walked the other way. He was caught. Trapped. With no way out. Then it came to him. The Nagano and Zavala robots would be waiting for Austin’s facsimile.

Han could override their orders with a voice command. He looked for the getaway car. It was there, waiting near the exit. It even sported a temporary blue police light, blinking on top. A brilliant touch.

He walked calmly now. No need to draw attention to himself. He opened the door and glanced inside. The Zavala replica was at the wheel just as he was supposed to be, but Nagano’s facsimile was nowhere to be found. Too bad.

Han climbed in and shut the door. “Drive us out of the parking lot and directly to the factory.”

If he could get to the helicopter, he would be out of Japanese airspace in less than an hour.

The Zavala robot put the car in gear, drove a few feet and then stopped. “Will this be cash or credit?”

“What?”

“Transportation program requires the use of currency.”

Han thought he was hearing things. The voice sounded more robotic than anything he would have approved. What the hell kind of accent had Gao downloaded anyway? “Override all programs and drive me to the CNR factory,” he ordered. “Immediately.”

The answer sounded like an old machine from sixties television. “Instruction error… Does not compute… Instruction error… Does not compute…”

“I’m Walter Han,” he bellowed. “And I’m giving you a direct command!”

At this, the figure in the front seat turned toward him. It held a pistol and grinned at him with a wicked smile. “And I’m Joe Zavala,” it said, the voice suddenly normal. “And you are not the boss of me.”

The childish joke was enough for Han to see the truth. He grabbed for the door, but it swung open before he could touch the handle.

Austin, Nagano and a squad of policemen stood there. Austin reached in, grabbed him by the lapels and dragged him out. Holding him up against the car, Austin grinned smugly. “Humans: three,” he said. “Robots: one. Game over.”