By Poul Anderson
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Extra resources for A Circus of Hells
I wonder why. " She huddled against him. "Has to be. Nothing else could have made this. It used the engineering facilities it had, possibly built some additional manufacturing plant. It didn't bother coloring the squares or the pieces, knowing quite well which was which. " Flandry grimaced. "If I hadn't…we'd've quit, returned, and died. " He urged her forward. "We can't go further," she pleaded. " After some trudging: "My guess is, the computer split its attention into a number of parts. One or more to keep track of the wild robots.
The wires would have cut him. A few were possible; and he spent hours flexing what muscles he was able to; and Djana was fairly good about massaging him. Nonetheless he ached and tingled. Djana also kept her promise to give him a nurse's attentions. Hers weren't the best, for lack of training and equipment, but they served. And she read to him by the hour, over the intercom, from the bookreels he had along. She even offered to make love to him. On the third day he accepted. Otherwise little passed between them: the constraints were too many for conversation.
The machine wasn't meant for combat. It was not much more than a self-operating flatbed truck with a pair of lifting arms. It loaded the fallen lancer aboard and returned whence it came. "For repairs," Flandry breathed. " Djana shuddered in his arms. His words went slowly on, shaping the thoughts they uttered: "Two classes of killer robot, then. One is free-ranging, fights indiscriminately, comes here to get fixed if it can make the trip, and doubtless returns to the wilderness for more hunting.
A Circus of Hells by Poul Anderson