“I do not ask lightly now!” Hosato insisted. “I only ask—”

“You ask me to change one of the oldest laws of the family,” the image interrupted. “To save you from having to make a difficult decision. I will not.”

Hosato experienced a sinking sensation in his stomach as the image’s fingers continued their statement. “There are two outsiders who now possess enough information about our family to pose a threat to its continued existence. You may sponsor only one for membership. The other must be eliminated. As you were the source of their information, it becomes your task to carry out the mission. Fail in this, and you will no longer be considered a member of the family. We will speak no more of this.”

“My grandfather,” Hosato motioned desperately, “I would ask that you keep an open mind on this. You yourself have said the strength of a law is in its flexibility.”

“As to your mechanical foes”—the image continued ignoring him—“if you insist on involving yourself further in this affair, remember your training. If faced by an enemy possessing superior strength and speed, seek a way to use that strength and speed to your advantage. Do not directly oppose, but yield and add your own strength and speed to that of your enemy to create a force greater than that directed against you.”

Hosato paid only partial attention to the image’s advice. The rest of his concentration was focused on the problem confronting him. His grandfather would not reconsider or even hear additional arguments on the subject of Sasha and James. He simply dictated that one of them must die, then dismissed the matter.

“I shall remember your advice, my grandfather,” Hosato signaled.

“Do you have any further questions or need for counsel?” the fingers asked.

Hosato thought for a moment.

“How many members of the family have been excommunicated in the past?” he asked finally.

There was a pause before the image’s hands moved in answer.

“I do not know,” it said. “If a member is so banished, all references and records of him are stricken from the family history.”

Hosato thought for a moment more.

“I have no further questions,” he signaled at last.

“I fear our time for conversation draws to an end my son,” the image said, returning to the verbal line of communication. “You must contact us more often, neh. In the meantime, continue to conduct yourself in a manner your family can take pride in. Sayonara.”

“I will remember, my grandfather. Sayonara and domo!” Hosato replied, and watched as the image faded to nothingness.

He remained motionless for long minutes after contact was broken, lost in thought.

Could he do it. Could he coldly kill either Sasha or James to preserve the curtain of secrecy around the Hosato family. Or should he openly defy his father, and in doing so face banishment from his family?

He tried to weigh the consequences of each action in his mind, but they merged and ran together La a confused kaleidoscope of indecision.

Shimatta. He had made a mistake—a big one. The only question in his mind was whether the mistake was taking James and Sasha into his confidence or in seeking his grandfather’s advice and approval.

Finally he shook his head. Perhaps Sasha was right. It was foolish to consider the future until it was known if there would be a future. There was every probability the upcoming mission against the Mc. Crae robots would solve the problem for him. If not, he could make his decision then.

He rose and went to join the others.

“That’s some complex!” the Hungarian stated enthusiastically to the group, once they had reconvened. “Do you think someday my little workshop here will grow up to be like that?”

Hosato was in no mood for humorous banter. “Come on,” he interrupted. “We’ve been waiting for your report.”

The Hungarian waved his drink at him. “And you can’t wait another five minutes. Not even for a few social pleasantries?” he protested. “I’ve been back only fifteen minutes, and you—”

“Please…?” Sasha asked gently.

“The impatience of youth!” The Hungarian sighed. “Very well, my dear. For you, I’ll start.”

For effect, he paused to light his pipe, his eyes dancing mischievously at Hosato’s impatient fidgeting.

“First off,” he began finally, “I wasn’t rushing my report, because I don’t have that much to add. As might be suspected from the Ravensteel reaction, tour groups are still being processed through Mc. Crae without any noticeable change. There are no humans in sight, but it’s my understanding there never were on these tours. Everything is functioning normally, and if I didn’t trust you all implicitly, I’d swear nothing such as you described ever took place at the complex.”

He paused to relight his pipe.

“Believe me, Tinker—” Hosato began.

The Hungarian silenced him with a vague wave.

“I believe, I believe!” he said. “I was talking about what the normal eye would see. Fortunately, I have better-than-normal eyes. You know those cameras and sensors you told me to watch for?”

He cocked an eyebrow at Sasha, who nodded.

“Well, they’ve been embellished. They each have new little doodads attached. I couldn’t tell for sure what they were without close examination, but I have a strong feeling they aren’t room deodorizers.”

“Blasters?” Hosato asked.

The Hungarian shrugged. “Like I say, I couldn’t tell without close examination, and somehow I didn’t think it would be wise to attempt it. Then for laughs I tried the Employment Office and was politely informed by the desk-robot there were no positions available at this time.”

The group sat in silence for several long minutes digesting what they had heard, each lost in his own thoughts.

“Okay,” Hosato said at last, “Rick and Sasha have put together floor plans and schematics as to what we’re up against at the Mc. Crae complex. What’s your appraisal of the situation?”

The Hungarian blew a long plume of smoke from his pipe before replying.

“You’re facing a highly automated manufacturing complex with multiple security devices. Unlike normal electronic detection devices, these are armed and it is assumed they will fire on any detected threat to the complex. In addition, there is an unknown number of mobile robots guarding the complex against intrusion, also armed. The key to the whole mess is here.”

He paused to tap the indicated spot on the layout drawings with the stem of his pipe.

“The Central Computer Building. The computer housed here controls the entire operation; the security scanners, the mobile killer modules, and the manufacturing concern producing the killer modules. Correct its programming or destroy it completely, and the whole complex goes down.”

“Wait a minute,” Hosato interrupted. “Back up a little. Did you say we could stop the computer by correcting its programming?”

“That’s right.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. It’s got to be easier than getting to the computer itself.”

The Hungarian shook his head. “Not so fast. We can’t use just any terminal to change the programming. Tell him, Sasha.”

“There are lots of terminals, Hosato, but only a handful that give you access to the program banks,” the former security chief informed him. “What’s more, it seems one of Turner’s precautions was to lock out the other program terminals. The only one we could use is the one in his office.”

Hosato pulled the layout map toward him and scanned it to refresh his memory.

“That’s still our best, bet,” he declared. “Compared to the route to the computer building, reaching Turner’s office is the yellow brick road.”

“No it isn’t,” Sasha corrected. “The terminal in Turner’s office won’t help us at all.”

“But you said—”

“I said it was the only terminal that could change the base programs. Unfortunately, we can’t use it.”

“Why not?” Hosato asked.