Igor grunted an understanding grunt, opened the cab door and climbed down. I saw him place his knuckles against the plate. Heard the tiny voice speak again. “The palm of your hand. “ Was there a note of exasperation in the recorded voice?

The hidden machinery whirred and the massive entrance portal slid slowly into the ground. Igor climbed back into the cab and thumbed the machine again.

“Drive into the bank, “ the computer-generated voice said. Wonderful! This cretin probably couldn’t even read. We trundled into the bank, and still following the recorded instructions, he closed the garage door and waved me after him. “Activate robots, “ was the next command.

We went around to the rear and let down a ramp, climbed inside. In the semidarkness I could make out the metallic clutter of a number of small, low-slung robots. Igor bent over and, one by one, switched them on. Green lights glowed, wheels and tracks shifted slightly then stopped. Igor pressed the button for more information.

“Everyone and every thing into the bank.”

Igor turned back to me. “Bring robots. Follow me.”

“Let’s go, guys,” I said. Nothing happened. All of the robots I have used were voice operated. These weren’t. I bent and looked at the nearest one and saw a lever between the rear treads. I kicked the lever and the thing beeped and started forward. I kicked madly at all the others until they were trundling about in circles, then followed me when I went down the ramp and into the bank after Igor. I wondered what sadomasochistic mind had designed the robotic controls.

We proceeded at a snail’s pace; I hoped we would be out by dawn. Pausing often for instructions, we made our way into the bank’s innards. Alarms were switched off, lights turned on, grilles and gates open. Until we finally stood before the massive door of the vault.

“Enter six, six, six, six times, “ the robotic voice ordered.

Igor did as ordered and the tumblers fell: a green light blinked. While he was waiting for orders to turn the locking wheel I turned the locking wheel. The bars did from their sockets and I tugged the door open.

The last time I had looked into the vault with Bolivar it had been a scene of cruel theft. Safety-deposit boxes torn from their niches and thrown, empty, to the floor. Most of them were back in place, though there were gaps where those too battered to fit had been removed. Now what?

“Go to box three two five and open it. “ I beat him to it; it wasn’t locked and slid soundlessly out. “Activate device. “ The box was empty save for a plastic container with a button labeled PUSH ME on top of it. I pushed it-then began to slide and fall.

The entire floor of the vault, hinged at the doorway, was dropping down. Lights came on below revealing a chamber that occupied the area beneath the vault.

Which was filled from wall to wall with transparent plastic bundles stuffed with credits of all denominations. And jewelry and works of art. Obviously the contents of all the safety deposit boxes.

“A great scenario,” I said. “I tip my hat to Chaise, a true criminal genius. As well as being a brain-twisted swine.”

This was the perfect way to rob your own bank. Slip into the vault after closing time and open the chamber under it; undoubtedly installed by crooked offworld builders. Then clean out all of the valuables and raise the lid. Grand theft, shock, horror-and undoubtedly, writhing and complaining, the insurance companies paid out for the losses. Now, doubly rewarded, this crooked banker still had the theoretically stolen loot.

A few more kicks put the programmed robots to work. Handbots grabbed up the credits and loaded up the cartbots, which trundled away with the loot. Igor and I stood by and watched this industrious scene until the hidden chamber was empty, save a few bits of torn plastic. We followed our helpers back as Igor, ever so slowly, received recorded instructions to close and seal the vault and the bank. Obviously lacking the intelligence to reverse the commands for entry.

It was midnight, and I was tired, before we were done. I almost dozed off as we trundled down the dark streets, barely . illuminated by the far-spaced streetlights. We finally stopped before the looming bulk of a large warehouse. He had obviously done this before because-without instructions! – he keyed the transmitter hanging next to the soft dice above the dashboard. Hidden motors whined and the large garage door ground open. We drove in.

“Where do we sleep?” I asked hopefully. “And, possibly, eat?”

“Unload first.”

The inner room was thick-walled and well-sealed. I sat on a box and dozed while the scurrying robots carried the ill-gotten gains from the truck into the vault. Only when this had been done, and the robots kicked in the direction of their recharging outlets, did Igor yawn loudly and lead the way to what might laughingly be called living quarters. If you lived like a porcuswine in a wallow.

Igor drank his dinner directly from an amber bottle, muttered something completely unintelligible, then dropped onto one of the ragged bunks and fell asleep. I resisted the urge to kick him in the head and went exploring.

There was a desk with a telephone on it which I completely ignored. That one would be hooked directly to Kaia’s control center. The plumbing facilities looked as grim as the sleeping accommodations. But there was a freeze-n-fry unit that seemed to be operating. All of the storage compartments seemed to be empty other than the one labeled Octopus Nuggets ‘n-Chips. I threw the frozen contents of the box into the hopper to the fryer, and a few minutes later it discharged a solid lump of what purported to be food.

I chewed down as much as I could of it, threw the rest ofit out and found the bunk farthest from the loudly snoring Igor.

And so to sleep.

My last thought as I corked off was yes, I certainly had seen better days.

Two hour passed before the alarm in my watch went off, and vibrated silently against my wrist. Igor was still snoring away, and surely would for quite some time yet, considering all of the booze he had drunk. It was time to open some lines of communication-if possible. I slipped out of this dismal gent’s dormitory, stepped over the charging robots, and found a small door close to the garage entrance. It was of course alarmed and locked, but even in my tired state I opened it easily enough. I looked out: the street was empty. Filthy and shabby. A rundown district that was perfect for Kaia’s needs. There was a good chance that no one would be out and about this time of night. I hoped that it would stay that way since I made a memorable sight in my ruined tuxedo. The rain had stopped but the streets were still wet; I turned up my coat collar and went looking for a phone.

I found two in the space of half an hour; both vandalized. I was bone-weary-but I had to go on. This might be the only chance I had to be on my own for some time-and it was imperative that I make contact with my son. I kept going. I was the only pedestrian about at this time of night, although the occasional car or truck whistled by. Another vandalized phone and I was about to give up hope-when I saw the cluster of colored lights ahead.

A mechomart! Which was exactly what I wanted. This was an all-day and all-night shopping mall, completely automated, with never another human being in sight-if you didn’t count the customers. There were a few of them and I stayed out of their way. Which was easy enough to do since they pointedly ignored each other as they loaded up on beer and groceries. I bypassed them and probed the inner shopping walkways, which were now completely silent and deserted. But as I approached, motion detectors sensed my approach and switched on their amplified appeals. I ignored the shouted appeals to buy shoes, furniture, dildoes, books, vibrators and weight-reduction pills; all the necessities of our modern society.