Jack L. Chalker - X 1 - Lilith - A Snake in the Grass

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Lilith: A Snake in the Grass

For Lou Tabakow,

a great unsung friend

of science fiction for

almost fifty years and a man

whose kindness and

friendship I will always

treasure

Prologue - Background to Trouble

The little man in the synthetic tweed jacket didn't look like a bomb. In fact,

he looked much the same as most of the other clerks, junior computer

operators, and political men on the make in Military Systems Command.

Two beady little brownish eyes set a bit too far apart by a hawk nose, a

twitchy little mouth above a lantern jaw-the kind of nebbish nobody ever

looked at twice. That's why he was so dangerous.

He wore all the proper entry cards, and when handprints and retinal patterns

were taken at doors that could trap or even destroy if the slightest thing was

wrong he was passed without so much as an electronic pause. He carried a

small briefcase, unusual only in that it was merely clasped and not chained

to him or attached in some other way. Still, that caused no notice or alarm-it

was probably tuned to his body, anyway.

Occasionally along brightly lit halls he'd meet another of his apparent ilk,

and they'd pass, perhaps nodding as if they knew each other but more often

simply ignoring one another as they would in a crowd or on any street

corner. There was nothing exceptional about them, nothing to mark them as

something apart from the common herd, because, except for their jobs and

job location, there wasn't any real difference. Except for this one little man.

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Lilith: A Snake in the Grass

He was definitely exceptional, being a bomb.

Finally he reached a small room in which a single computer access element

was placed in front of a comfortable-looking chair. There were no warning

symbols, no huge guards or robot sentinels about, even though this

particular room was the gateway to the military secrets of an interstellar

empire of vast proportions. There was no need. No single individual could

activate that access element; doing so required the combined and nearly

simultaneous consent of three different human beings and two robot

backups, each of whom received a different coded order from a different

source. Any attempt to use it without the actions of all the others would

result not only in a dead computer and blank terminal but also in a warning

flashed to security.

The little man sat down in the chair, adjusted it for proper operating

position, then leaned over and casually opened his briefcase. Removing a

small crystalline device, he idly flicked it on with a thumb motion and then

it set against the activation plate of the terminal.

The screen flickered, came to life. Printed on it were all the access codes as

if it had received them and the question of whether the user preferred voice

or CRT communication. There was no question of a print-out. Not with this

computer.

"CRT only, please," the little man idly said, in a thin, dry, nasal voice that

bore no trace of accent. The machine waited. "Defensive files C-476-

2377AX and J-392-7533DC, please, at speed."

The computer seemed to blink at that last; at speed would be at roughly four

hundred tines a second, the limit of the CRT to form the images in the first

place. Nonetheless, the computer went to work. Both plans were delivered

up and snapped past the little man in less than a second.

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Lilith: A Snake in the Grass

He was pleased. So much so that he decided then and there to press his luck

a little and ask for more. "Run the master defense emergency plans, please,

at speed, in order," he told the machine casually.

The machine obeyed. Because of the volume of material it took almost four

minutes.

The little man glanced at his watch. It was so tempting to continue, but

every second he was here increased his chances of somebody just looking in

or some random check. That wouldn't do, not at all.

He placed his device back in his briefcase, snapped it closed, stood up, and

walked out. At that point he made one minor mistake, one he would not be

expected to know. You had to tell the damned thing to clear and reset the

codes. If you didn't, this computer didn't react like all others and simply stay

on-intolerable, with access to such secrets-or shut itself down. When it

"saw" that the operator had left the room without resetting it, the machine

advised control personnel of that fact, then locked in emergency shutdown

until reset.

As the little man reached the first checkpoint door on his way out, things

were already starting to crack around him.

The young woman glared for a moment at the red alert light that had flashed

on her console. She ran a quick check to make sure there was no internal

malfunction, then punched up the trouble-the Eyes Only Storage Computer.

Although she was one of those with part of the code that would activate the

computer, she could not ask it any questions on its information storage from

where she was-but she could get security information. She knew she had

given no access so far today, so she punched two buttons and instructed,

"Run tape last operation."

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Lilith: A Snake in the Grass

The little man's face showed clearly. Not only his face, but his retinal

pattern, thermal pattern, everything about him that could be read by remote

sensors and recorded. She brought in the rest of the computer net.

"Identify!" she commanded.

"Threht, Augur Pen-Gyl, OG-6, Logistics," came the computer's reply.

Before her hand could hit the alarm it had already been hit by two of her

associates.

No alarms sounded, no flashing lights and whistling bells that would panic

or tip off a spy. Instead, as Threht reached the third and last security door,

peered into the oculator, and pressed his palm on the identiplate, it simply

refused to open.

He realized at once that security, both human and robotic, was already

closing in on him from all sides, and decided in a flash that the least security

would be on the other side of the door. He raised his left hand, paused for a

moment, frozen, as if marshaling all he had, then struck the door near its

locking mechanism. The area buckled, and he leaned forward and without

seeming effort pushed until the door slid back enough for him to squeeze

through.

Once he was inside, the door slammed shut behind him, and he could hear

the secondary seals slide into place. It formed an effective trap, between the

inner and outer door. The chamber itself was airtight; so if someone got this

far, the air inside the chamber could be rapidly withdrawn. No chances, not

with somebody this good.

The vacuum hardly bothered him. He kicked at the outer door once, twice;

on the third try, it gave. He leaned forward with all his might, opening a

crack and holding the door open against the massive inrush of air until the

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Lilith: A Snake in the Grass

pressure equalized. At that point he threw it open and strode through into

the main entrance hall.

His guess had been correct; security forces were only now reaching the hall

area, and stunned personnel throughout the hall prevented a quick shot. Four

sleek black security robots sped toward him. Apparently unafraid, he let

them advance. Then, just before they reached him, he suddenly ran right at

the two in the lead, pushing one into the other and spilling both to the floor.

The scene was incredible: a tiny, ordinary-looking fellow tumbled four tons

of animated metal without so much as recoiling.

He moved quickly now, directly for the clear windows at the front of the

hall. He moved with such tremendous speed, speed beyond human and most

robots, that when he reached the windows he leaped straight into them. The

panes were tremendously thick, able to resist even conventional bombs

hurled against them, but they cracked and shattered like ordinary glass as he

sailed through; he then dropped the twelve meters to the ground, landing on

his feet with perfect balance, and started to run across the broad courtyard.

By then he had lost the element of surprise. Realizing from the point at

which he'd battered in the first door that they were dealing with some clever

sort of robot, the security forces had assumed the worst and were ready for

him with killer robots, human troops, even a small laser cannon.

He stopped in the center of the grassy knoll and looked around, sizing up the

situation but appearing cool and efficient. Then, suddenly, turning to look at

the massive amounts of firepower trained on him, he grinned; the grin

became a laugh, a laugh that rose in pitch until it became eerie, inhuman,

maniacal, echoing back from the building's walls.

The order was given to open fire, but as the beams tore into the spot on

which he stood he just wasn't there any more. He was going up, rising into

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Lilith:ASnakeintheGrassLilith:ASnakeintheGrassForLouTabakow,agreatunsungfriendofsciencefictionforalmostfiftyyearsandamanwhosekindnessandfriendshipIwillalwaystreasurePrologue-BackgroundtoTroubleThelittlemaninthesynthetictweedjacketdidn'tlooklikeabomb.In\fact,helookedmuchthesameasmostoftheotherclerks,...

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