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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29204-h.zip b/29204-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..95e4954 --- /dev/null +++ b/29204-h.zip diff --git a/29204-h/29204-h.htm b/29204-h/29204-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d542852 --- /dev/null +++ b/29204-h/29204-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1763 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Arm of the Law, by Harry Harrison + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2 {text-align: right; font-weight: normal; line-height: 2em;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .bk1 {margin: 1em auto 3em; border-top: solid 2px; border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bk2 {float: left; width: 15em; margin: 1em 2em 1em 0;} + .pr1 {line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 4em;} + hr {width: 45%; margin: 1em auto; visibility: hidden;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps; font-style: normal;} + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em; width: auto;} + img {border: none;} + a:link,a:visited {text-decoration: none;} + .figt {float: left; clear: left; margin: 15px; padding: 0; width: 145px;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; min-height: 230px;} + .trn p {margin: 15px;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Arm of the Law, by Harry Harrison + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Arm of the Law + +Author: Harry Harrison + +Release Date: June 22, 2009 [EBook #29204] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARM OF THE LAW *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="bk1"><p><i><small>How could a robot—a machine, after all—be involved in something like +law application and violence? Harry Harrison, who will be remembered for +his <span class="smcap">THE VELVET GLOVE</span> (Nov. 1956) and his more recent <span class="smcap">TRAINEE FOR MARS</span> +(June 1958) tells what happens when a police robot hits an outpost on Mars.</small></i></p></div> + +<div class="bk2"><h1><b>arm<br /> +of<br /> +the<br /> +law</b></h1> + +<h2><small><i>by ... Harry Harrison</i></small></h2> + +<p class="pr1"><big><b>At one time—this was before the Robot +Restriction Laws—they'd even allowed +them to make their own decisions....</b></big></p></div> + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">It was</span> a big, coffin-shaped plywood +box that looked like it weighed +a ton. This brawny type just +dumped it through the door of the +police station and started away. I +looked up from the blotter and +shouted at the trucker's vanishing +back.</p> + +<p>"What the hell is that?"</p> + +<p>"How should I know?" he said +as he swung up into the cab. "I +just deliver, I don't X-ray 'em. It +came on the morning rocket from +earth is all I know." He gunned +the truck more than he had to and +threw up a billowing cloud of red +dust.</p> + +<p>"Jokers," I growled to myself. +"Mars is full of jokers."</p> + +<p>When I went over to look at the +box I could feel the dust grate between +my teeth. Chief Craig must +have heard the racket because he +came out of his office and helped +me stand and look at the box.</p> + +<p>"Think it's a bomb?" he asked +in a bored voice.</p> + +<p>"Why would anyone bother—particularly +with a thing this size? +And all the way from earth."</p> + +<p>He nodded agreement and walked +around to look at the other end. +There was no sender's address anywhere +on the outside. Finally we +had to dig out the crowbar and I +went to work on the top. After +some prying it pulled free and fell +off.</p> + +<p>That was when we had our first +look at Ned. We all would have +been a lot happier if it had been +our last look as well. If we had +just put the lid back on and shipped +the thing back to earth! I know +now what they mean about Pandora's +Box.</p> + +<p>But we just stood there and +stared like a couple of rubes. Ned +lay motionless and stared back at +us.</p> + +<p>"A robot!" the Chief said.</p> + +<p>"Very observant; it's easy to see +you went to the police academy."</p> + +<p>"Ha ha! Now find out what he's +doing here."</p> + +<p>I hadn't gone to the academy, +but this was no handicap to my +finding the letter. It was sticking +up out of a thick book in a pocket +in the box. The Chief took the letter +and read it with little enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"Well, well! United Robotics +have the brainstorm that ... <i>robots, +correctly used will tend to prove +invaluable in police work</i> ... they +want us to co-operate in a field +test ... <i>robot enclosed is the latest +experimental model; valued at +120,000 credits</i>."</p> + +<p>We both looked back at the +robot, sharing the wish that the +credits had been in the box instead +of it. The Chief frowned and +moved his lips through the rest of +the letter. I wondered how we got +the robot out of its plywood coffin.</p> + +<p>Experimental model or not, this +was a nice-looking hunk of machinery. +A uniform navy-blue all over, +though the outlet cases, hooks and +such were a metallic gold. Someone +had gone to a lot of trouble to get +that effect. This was as close as a +robot could look to a cop in uniform, +without being a joke. All that +seemed to be missing was the badge +and gun.</p> + +<p>Then I noticed the tiny glow of +light in the robot's eye lenses. It +had never occurred to me before +that the thing might be turned on. +There was nothing to lose by finding +out.</p> + +<p>"Get out of that box," I said.</p> + +<p>The robot came up smooth and +fast as a rocket, landing two feet +in front of me and whipping out +a snappy salute.</p> + +<p>"Police Experimental Robot, serial +number XPO-456-934B, reporting +for duty, sir."</p> + +<p>His voice quivered with alertness +and I could almost hear the humming +of those taut cable muscles. +He may have had a stainless steel +hide and a bunch of wires for a +brain—but he spelled rookie cop +to me just the same. The fact that +he was man-height with two arms, +two legs and that painted-on uniform +helped. All I had to do was +squint my eyes a bit and there stood +Ned the Rookie Cop. Fresh out of +school and raring to go. I shook +my head to get rid of the illusion. +This was just six feet of machine +that boffins and brain-boys had +turned out for their own amusement.</p> + +<p>"Relax, Ned," I said. He was +still holding the salute. "At ease. +You'll get a hernia of your exhaust +pipe if you stay so tense. Anyways, +I'm just the sergeant here. That's +the Chief of Police over there."</p> + +<p>Ned did an about face and slid +over to the Chief with that same +greased-lightning motion. The +Chief just looked at him like something +that sprang out from under +the hood of a car, while Ned went +through the same report routine.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if it does anything +else beside salute and report," the +Chief said while he walked around +the robot, looking it over like a dog +with a hydrant.</p> + +<p>"The functions, operations and +responsible courses of action open +to the Police Experimental Robots +are outlined on pages 184 to 213 of +the manual." Ned's voice was +muffled for a second while he half-dived +back into his case and came +up with the volume mentioned. "A +detailed breakdown of these will +also be found on pages 1035 to +1267 inclusive."</p> + +<p>The Chief, who has trouble +reading an entire comic page at +one sitting, turned the 6-inch-thick +book over in his hands like it +would maybe bite him. When he +had a rough idea of how much it +weighed and a good feel of the +binding he threw it on my desk.</p> + +<p>"Take care of this," he said to +me as he headed towards his office. +"And the robot, too. Do something +with it." The Chief's span of attention +never was great and it had +been strained to the limit this time.</p> + +<p>I flipped through the book, wondering. +One thing I never have had +much to do with is robots, so I +know just as much about them as +any Joe in the street. Probably less. +The book was filled with pages of +fine print, fancy mathematics, wiring +diagrams and charts in nine +colors and that kind of thing. It +needed close attention. Which attention +I was not prepared to give +at the time. The book slid shut and +I eyed the newest employee of the +city of Nineport.</p> + +<p>"There is a broom behind the +door. Do you know how to use it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"In that case you will sweep out +this room, raising as small a cloud +of dust as possible at the same +time."</p> + +<p>He did a very neat job of it.</p> + +<p>I watched 120,000 credits worth +of machinery making a tidy pile of +butts and sand and wondered why +it had been sent to Nineport. Probably +because there wasn't another +police force in the solar system that +was smaller or more unimportant +than ours. The engineers must have +figured this would be a good spot +for a field test. Even if the thing +blew up, nobody would really +mind. There would probably be +someone along some day to get a +report on it. Well, they had picked +the right spot all right. Nineport +was just a little bit beyond nowhere.</p> + +<p>Which, of course, was why I was +there. I was the only real cop on the +force. They needed at least one to +give an illusion of the wheels going +around. The Chief, Alonzo +Craig, had just enough sense to +take graft without dropping the +money. There were two patrolmen. +One old and drunk most of the +time. The other so young the only +scar he had was the mark of the +attram. I had ten years on a metropolitan +force, earthside. Why I left +is nobody's damn business. I have +long since paid for any mistakes I +made there by ending up in Nineport.</p> + +<p>Nineport is not a city, it's just a +place where people stop. The only +permanent citizens are the ones who +cater to those on the way through. +Hotel keepers, restaurant owners, +gamblers, barkeeps, and the rest.</p> + +<p>There is a spaceport, but only +some freighters come there. To pick +up the metal from some of the +mines that are still working. Some +of the settlers still came in for +supplies. You might say that Nineport +was a town that just missed the +boat. In a hundred years I doubt +if there will be enough left sticking +of the sand to even tell where +it used to be. I won't be there +either, so I couldn't care less.</p> + +<p>I went back to the blotter. Five +drunks in the tank, an average +night's haul. While I wrote them +up Fats dragged in the sixth one.</p> + +<p>"Locked himself in the ladies' +john at the spaceport and resisting +arrest," he reported.</p> + +<p>"D and D. Throw him in with +the rest."</p> + +<p>Fats steered his limp victim +across the floor, matching him step +for dragging step. I always marveled +at the way Fats took care of +drunks, since he usually had more +under his belt than they had. I have +never seen him falling down drunk +or completely sober. About all he +was good for was keeping a blurred +eye on the lockup and running in +drunks. He did well at that. No +matter what they crawled under or +on top of, he found them. No doubt +due to the same shared natural instincts.</p> + +<p>Fats clanged the door behind +number six and weaved his way +back in. "What's that?" he asked, +peering at the robot along the purple +beauty of his nose.</p> + +<p>"That is a robot. I have forgotten +the number his mother gave him +at the factory so we will call him +Ned. He works here now."</p> + +<p>"Good for him! He can clean +up the tank after we throw the +bums out."</p> + +<p>"That's <i>my</i> job," Billy said coming +in through the front door. He +clutched his nightstick and scowled +out from under the brim of his +uniform cap. It is not that Billy is +stupid, just that most of his +strength has gone into his back instead +of his mind.</p> + +<p>"That's Ned's job now because +you have a promotion. You are going +to help me with some of my +work."</p> + +<p>Billy came in very handy at times +and I was anxious that the force +shouldn't lose him. My explanation +cheered him because he sat down +by Fats and watched Ned do the +floor.</p> + +<p>That's the way things went for +about a week. We watched Ned +sweep and polish until the station +began to take on a positively antiseptic +look. The Chief, who always +has an eye out for that type of +thing, found out that Ned could +file the odd ton of reports and +paperwork that cluttered his office. +All this kept the robot busy, and +we got so used to him we were +hardly aware he was around. I +knew he had moved the packing +case into the storeroom and fixed +himself up a cozy sort of robot +dormitory-coffin. Other than that +I didn't know or care.</p> + +<p>The operation manual was buried +in my desk and I never looked at it. +If I had, I might have had some +idea of the big changes that were +in store. None of us knew the littlest +bit about what a robot can or +cannot do. Ned was working nicely +as a combination janitor-file clerk +and should have stayed that way. +He would have too if the Chief +hadn't been so lazy. That's what +started it all.</p> + +<p>It was around nine at night and +the Chief was just going home +when the call came in. He took it, +listened for a moment, then hung +up.</p> + +<p>"Greenback's liquor store. He +got held up again. Says to come at +once."</p> + +<p>"That's a change. Usually we +don't hear about it until a month +later. What's he paying protection +money for if China Joe ain't protecting? +What's the rush now?"</p> + +<p>The Chief chewed his loose lip +for a while, finally and painfully +reached a decision.</p> + +<p>"You better go around and see +what the trouble is."</p> + +<p>"Sure," I said reaching for my +cap. "But no one else is around, +you'll have to watch the desk until +I get back."</p> + +<p>"That's no good," he moaned. +"I'm dying from hunger and sitting +here isn't going to help me any."</p> + +<p>"I will go take the report," Ned +said, stepping forward and snapping +his usual well-greased salute.</p> + +<p>At first the Chief wasn't buying. +You would think the water cooler +came to life and offered to take +over his job.</p> + +<p>"How could <i>you</i> take a report?" +he growled, putting the wise-guy +water cooler in its place. But he +had phrased his little insult as a +question so he had only himself to +blame. In exactly three minutes Ned +gave the Chief a summary of the +routine necessary for a police officer +to make a report on an armed robbery +or other reported theft. From +the glazed look in Chief's protruding +eyes I could tell Ned had quickly +passed the boundaries of the +Chief's meager knowledge.</p> + +<p>"Enough!" the harried man finally +gasped. "If you know so much +why don't you make a report?"</p> + +<p>Which to me sounded like another +version of "<i>if you're so damned +smart why ain't you rich?</i>" +which we used to snarl at the brainy +kids in grammar school. Ned took +such things literally though, and +turned towards the door.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean you wish me to +make a report on this robbery?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," the Chief said just to +get rid of him, and we watched +his blue shape vanish through the +door.</p> + +<p>"He must be brighter than he +looks," I said. "He never stopped +to ask where Greenback's store is."</p> + +<p>The Chief nodded and the phone +rang again. His hand was still resting +on it so he picked it up by +reflex. He listened for a second and +you would have thought someone +was pumping blood out of his heel +from the way his face turned white.</p> + +<p>"The holdup's still on," he finally +gasped. "Greenback's delivery +boy is on the line—calling back to +see where we are. Says he's under +a table in the back room ..."</p> + +<p>I never heard the rest of it because +I was out the door and into +the car. There were a hundred +things that could happen if Ned +got there before me. Guns could go +off, people hurt, lots of things. And +the police would be to blame for +it all—sending a tin robot to do a +cop's job. Maybe the Chief had ordered +Ned there, but clearly as if +the words were painted on the +windshield of the car, I knew I +would be dragged into it. It never +gets very warm on Mars, but I was +sweating.</p> + +<p>Nineport has fourteen traffic regulations +and I broke all of them +before I had gone a block. Fast as +I was, Ned was faster. As I turned +the corner I saw him open the +door of Greenback's store and walk +in. I screamed brakes in behind +him and arrived just in time to have +a gallery seat. A shooting gallery +at that.</p> + +<p>There were two holdup punks, +one behind the counter making like +a clerk and the other lounging off +to the side. Their guns were out of +sight, but blue-coated Ned busting +through the door like that was too +much for their keyed up nerves. +Up came both guns like they were +on strings and Ned stopped dead. +I grabbed for my own gun and +waited for pieces of busted robot to +come flying through the window.</p> + +<p>Ned's reflexes were great. Which +I suppose is what you should expect +of a robot.</p> + +<p>"DROP YOUR GUNS, YOU +ARE UNDER ARREST."</p> + +<p>He must have had on full power +or something, his voice blasted so +loud my ears hurt. The result was +just what you might expect. Both +torpedoes let go at once and the air +was filled with flying slugs. The +show windows went out with a +crash and I went down on my +stomach. From the amount of noise +I knew they both had recoilless +.50's. You can't stop one of those +slugs. They go right through you +and anything else that happens to +be in the way.</p> + +<p>Except they didn't seem to be +bothering Ned. The only notice he +seemed to take was to cover his +eyes. A little shield with a thin +slit popped down over his eye +lenses. Then he moved in on the +first thug.</p> + +<p>I knew he was fast, but not that +fast. A couple of slugs jarred him +as he came across the room, but +before the punk could change his +aim Ned had the gun in his hand. +That was the end of that. He put +on one of the sweetest hammer +locks I have ever seen and neatly +grabbed the gun when it dropped +from the limp fingers. With the +same motion that slipped the gun +into a pouch he whipped out a pair +of handcuffs and snapped them on +the punk's wrists.</p> + +<p>Holdupnik number two was +heading for the door by then, and I +was waiting to give him a warm +reception. There was never any +need. He hadn't gone halfway before +Ned slid in front of him. +There was a thud when they hit +that didn't even shake Ned, but +gave the other a glazed look. He +never even knew it when Ned slipped +the cuffs on him and dropped +him down next to his partner.</p> + +<p>I went in, took their guns from +Ned, and made the arrest official. +That was all Greenback saw when +he crawled out from behind the +counter and it was all I wanted +him to see. The place was a foot +deep in broken glass and smelled +like the inside of a Jack Daniels +bottle. Greenback began to howl +like a wolf over his lost stock. He +didn't seem to know any more +about the phone call than I did, so +I grabbed ahold of a pimply looking +kid who staggered out of the +storeroom. He was the one who +had made the calls.</p> + +<p>It turned out to be a matter of +sheer stupidity. He had worked for +Greenback only a few days and +didn't have enough brains to realize +that all holdups should be reported +to the protection boys instead +of the police. I told Greenback +to wise up his boy, as look +at the trouble that got caused. Then +pushed the two ex-holdup men out +to the car. Ned climbed in back +with them and they clung together +like two waifs in a storm. The +robot's only response was to pull a +first aid kit from his hip and fix +up a ricochet hole in one of the +thugs that no one had noticed in the +excitement.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The Chief was still sitting there +with that bloodless look when we +marched in. I didn't believe it could +be done, but he went two shades +whiter.</p> + +<p>"You made the pinch," he whispered. +Before I could straighten +him out a second and more awful +idea hit him. He grabbed a handful +of shirt on the first torpedo and +poked his face down. "You with +China Joe," he snarled.</p> + +<p>The punk made the error of trying +to be cute so the Chief let him +have one on the head with the open +hand that set his eyes rolling like +marbles. When the question got +asked again he found the right +answer.</p> + +<p>"I never heard from no China +Joe. We just hit town today and—"</p> + +<p>"Freelance, by God," the Chief +sighed and collapsed into his chair. +"Lock 'em up and quickly tell me +what in hell happened."</p> + +<p>I slammed the gate on them and +pointed a none too steady finger at +Ned.</p> + +<p>"There's the hero," I said. "Took +them on single-handed, rassled +them for a fall and made the capture. +He is a one-robot tornado, a +power for good in this otherwise +evil community. And he's bulletproof +too." I ran a finger over +Ned's broad chest. The paint was +chipped by the slugs, but the metal +was hardly scratched.</p> + +<p>"This is going to cause me trouble, +big trouble," the Chief wailed.</p> + +<p>I knew he meant with the protection +boys. They did not like +punks getting arrested and guns +going off without their okay. But +Ned thought the Chief had other +worries and rushed in to put them +right. "There will be no trouble. +At no time did I violate any of the +Robotic Restriction Laws, they are +part of my control circuits and +therefore fully automatic. The men +who drew their guns violated both +robotic and human law when they +threatened violence. I did not injure +the men—merely restrained +them."</p> + +<p>It was all over the Chief's head, +but I liked to think <i>I</i> could follow +it. And I <i>had</i> been wondering how +a robot—a machine—could be involved +in something like law application +and violence. Ned had the +answer to that one too.</p> + +<p>"Robots have been assuming +these functions for years. Don't +recording radar meters pass judgment +on human violation of automobile +regulations? A robot alcohol +detector is better qualified to assess +the sobriety of a prisoner than the +arresting officer. At one time robots +were even allowed to make their +own decisions about killing. Before +the Robotic Restriction Laws automatic +gun-pointers were in general +use. Their final development was +a self-contained battery of large +anti-aircraft guns. Automatic scan +radar detected all aircraft in the +vicinity. Those that could not return +the correct identifying signal +had their courses tracked and computed, +automatic fuse-cutters and +loaders readied the computer-aimed +guns—which were fired by the +robot mechanism."</p> + +<p>There was little I could argue +about with Ned. Except maybe his +college-professor vocabulary. So I +switched the attack.</p> + +<p>"But a robot can't take the place +of a cop, it's a complex human +job."</p> + +<p>"Of course it is, but taking a +human policeman's place is not the +function of a police robot. Primarily +I combine the functions of numerous +pieces of police equipment, +integrating their operations and +making them instantly available. In +addition I can aid in the <i>mechanical</i> +processes of law enforcement. If +you arrest a man you handcuff him. +But if you order me to do it, I +have made no moral decision. I am +just a machine for attaching handcuffs +at that point ..."</p> + +<p>My raised hand cut off the flow +of robotic argument. Ned was hipped +to his ears with facts and figures +and I had a good idea who +would come off second best in any +continued discussion. No laws had +been broken when Ned made the +pinch, that was for sure. But there +are other laws than those that appear +on the books.</p> + +<p>"China Joe is not going to like +this, not at all," the Chief said, +speaking my own thoughts.</p> + +<p>The law of Tooth and Claw. +That's one that wasn't in the law +books. And that was what ran +Nineport. The place was just big +enough to have a good population +of gambling joints, bawdy houses +and drunk-rollers. They were all +run by China Joe. As was the police +department. We were all in his +pocket and you might say he was +the one who paid our wages. This +is not the kind of thing, though, +that you explain to a robot.</p> + +<p>"Yeah, China Joe."</p> + +<p>I thought it was an echo at first, +then realized that someone had +eased in the door behind me. Something +called Alex. Six feet of bone, +muscle and trouble. China Joe's +right hand man. He imitated a +smile at the Chief who sank a bit +lower in his chair.</p> + +<p>"China Joe wants you should tell +him why you got smart cops going +around and putting the arm on +people and letting them shoot up +good liquor. He's mostly angry +about the hooch. He says that he +had enough guff and after this you +should—"</p> + +<p>"I am putting you under Robot +Arrest, pursuant to article 46, +paragraph 19 of the revised +statutes ..."</p> + +<p>Ned had done it before we realized +he had even moved. Right +in front of our eyes he was arresting +Alex and signing our death +warrants.</p> + +<p>Alex was not slow. As he turned +to see who had grabbed him, he +had already dragged out this cannon. +He got one shot in, square +against Ned's chest, before the +robot plucked the gun away and +slipped on the cuffs. While we all +gaped like dead fish, Ned recited +the charge in what I swear was a +satisfied tone.</p> + +<p>"The prisoner is Peter Rakjomskj, +alias Alex the Axe, wanted in +Canal City for armed robbery and +attempted murder. Also wanted by +local police of Detroit, New York +and Manchester on charges of ..."</p> + +<p>"<i>Get it off me!</i>" Alex howled. +We might have too, and everything +might have still been straightened +out if Benny Bug hadn't heard the +shot. He popped his head in the +front door just long enough to roll +his eyes over our little scene.</p> + +<p>"Alex ... they're puttin' the arm +on Alex!"</p> + +<p>Then he was gone and when I +hit the door he was nowhere in +sight. China Joe's boys always went +around in pairs. And in ten minutes +he would know all about it.</p> + +<p>"Book him," I told Ned. "It +wouldn't make any difference if we +let him go now. The world has +already come to an end."</p> + +<p>Fats came in then, mumbling to +himself. He jerked a thumb over +his shoulder when he saw me.</p> + +<p>"What's up? I see little Benny +Bug come out of here like the place +was on fire and almost get killed +driving away?"</p> + +<p>Then Fats saw Alex with the +bracelets on and turned sober in +one second. He just took a moment +to gape, then his mind was made +up. Without a trace of a stagger he +walked over to the Chief and threw +his badge on the desk in front of +him.</p> + +<p>"I am an old man and I drink +too much to be a cop. Therefore I +am resigning from the force. Because +if that is whom I think it is +over there with the cuffs on, I will +not live to be a day older as long +as I am around here."</p> + +<p>"Rat." The Chief growled in +pain through his clenched teeth. +"Deserting the sinking ship. Rat."</p> + +<p>"Squeak," Fats said and left.</p> + +<p>The Chief was beyond caring at +this point. He didn't blink an eye +when I took Fats' badge off the +desk. I don't know why I did it, +perhaps I thought it was only fair. +Ned had started all the trouble and +I was just angry enough to want +him on the spot when it was finished. +There were two rings on his +chest plate, and I was not surprised +when the badge pin fitted them +neatly.</p> + +<p>"There, now you are a real cop." +Sarcasm dripped from the words. +I should have realized that robots +are immune to sarcasm. Ned took +my statement at face value.</p> + +<p>"This is a very great honor, not +only for me but for all robots. I +will do my best to fulfill all the +obligations of the office." Jack +Armstrong in tin underwear. I +could hear the little motors in his +guts humming with joy as he +booked Alex.</p> + +<p>If everything else hadn't been so +bad I would have enjoyed that. +Ned had more police equipment +built into him than Nineport had +ever owned. There was an ink pad +that snapped out of one hip, and he +efficiently rolled Alex's fingertips +across it and stamped them on a +card. Then he held the prisoner at +arm's length while something clicked +in his abdomen. Once more +sideways and two instant photographs +dropped out of a slot. The +mug shots were stuck on the card, +arrest details and such inserted. +There was more like this, but I +forced myself away. There were +more important things to think +about.</p> + +<p>Like staying alive.</p> + +<p>"Any ideas, Chief?"</p> + +<p>A groan was my only answer so +I let it go at that. Billy, the balance +of the police force, came in +then. I gave him a quick rundown. +Either through stupidity or guts he +elected to stay, and I was proud of +the boy. Ned locked away the latest +prisoner and began sweeping up.</p> + +<p>That was the way we were when +China Joe walked in.</p> + +<p>Even though we were expecting +it, it was still a shock. He had a +bunch of his toughest hoods with +him and they crowded through the +door like an overweight baseball +team. China Joe was in front, +hands buried in the sleeves of his +long mandarin gown. No expression +at all on his ascetic features. +He didn't waste time talking to us, +just gave the word to his own boys.</p> + +<p>"Clean this place up. The new +police Chief will be here in a while +and I don't want him to see any +bums hanging around."</p> + +<p>It made me angry. Even with the +graft I like to feel I'm still a cop. +Not on a cheap punk's payroll. I +was also curious about China Joe. +Had been ever since I tried to get +a line on him and never found a +thing. I still wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"Ned, take a good look at that +Chinese guy in the rayon bathrobe +and let me know who he is."</p> + +<p>My, but those electronic circuits +work fast. Ned shot the answer +back like a straight man who had +been rehearsing his lines for weeks.</p> + +<p>"He is a pseudo-oriental, utilizing +a natural sallowness of the skin +heightened with dye. He is not +Chinese. There has also been an +operation on his eyes, scars of +which are still visible. This has +been undoubtedly done in an attempt +to conceal his real identity, +but Bertillon measurements of his +ears and other features make identity +positive. He is on the Very +Wanted list of Interpol and his +real name is ..."</p> + +<p>China Joe was angry, and with +a reason.</p> + +<p>"That's the <i>thing</i> ... that big-mouthed +tin radio set over there. +We heard about it and we're taking +care of it!"</p> + +<p>The mob jumped aside then or +hit the deck and I saw there was a +guy kneeling in the door with a +rocket launcher. Shaped anti-tank +charges, no doubt. That was my last +thought as the thing let go with a +"whoosh."</p> + +<p>Maybe you can hit a tank with +one of those. But not a robot. At +least not a police robot. Ned was +sliding across the floor on his face +when the back wall blew up. There +was no second shot. Ned closed his +hand on the tube of the bazooka +and it was so much old drainpipe.</p> + +<p>Billy decided then that anyone +who fired a rocket in a police station +was breaking the law, so he +moved in with his club. I was right +behind him since I did not want +to miss any of the fun. Ned was +at the bottom somewhere, but I +didn't doubt he could take care of +himself.</p> + +<p>There were a couple of muffled +shots and someone screamed. No +one fired after that because we were +too tangled up. A punk named +Brooklyn Eddie hit me on the side +of the head with his gunbutt and +I broke his nose all over his face +with my fist.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>There is a kind of a fog over +everything after that. But I do remember +it was very busy for a while.</p> + +<p>When the fog lifted a bit I realized +I was the only one still standing. +Or leaning rather. It was a +good thing the wall was there.</p> + +<p>Ned came in through the street +door carrying a very bashed-looking +Brooklyn Eddie. I hoped I had +done all that. Eddie's wrists were +fastened together with cuffs. Ned +laid him gently next to the heap +of thugs—who I suddenly realized +all wore the same kind of handcuffs. +I wondered vaguely if Ned +made them as he needed them or +had a supply tucked away in a +hollow leg or something.</p> + +<p>There was a chair a few feet +away and sitting down helped.</p> + +<p>Blood was all over everything +and if a couple of the hoods hadn't +groaned I would have thought they +were corpses. One was, I noticed +suddenly. A bullet had caught him +in the chest, most of the blood was +probably his.</p> + +<p>Ned burrowed in the bodies for +a moment and dragged Billy out. +He was unconscious. A big smile +on his face and the splintered remains +of his nightstick still stuck +in his fist. It takes very little to +make some people happy. A bullet +had gone through his leg and he +never moved while Ned ripped the +pants leg off and put on a bandage.</p> + +<p>"The spurious China Joe and one +other man escaped in a car," Ned +reported.</p> + +<p>"Don't let it worry you," I managed +to croak. "Your batting average +still leads the league."</p> + +<p>It was then I realized the Chief +was still sitting in his chair, where +he had been when the brouhaha +started. Still slumped down with +that glazed look. Only after I started +to talk to him did I realize that +Alonzo Craig, Chief of Police of +Nineport, was now dead.</p> + +<p>A single shot. Small caliber gun, +maybe a .22. Right through the +heart and what blood there had +been was soaked up by his clothes. +I had a good idea where the gun +would be that fired that shot. A +small gun, the kind that would fit +in a wide Chinese sleeve.</p> + +<p>I wasn't tired or groggy any +more. Just angry. Maybe he hadn't +been the brightest or most honest +guy in the world. But he deserved +a better end than that. Knocked +off by a two-bit racket boss who +thought he was being crossed.</p> + +<p>Right about then I realized I had +a big decision to make. With Billy +out of the fight and Fats gone I +was the Nineport police force. All +I had to do to be clear of this mess +was to walk out the door and keep +going. I would be safe enough.</p> + +<p>Ned buzzed by, picked up two +of the thugs, and hauled them off +to the cells.</p> + +<p>Maybe it was the sight of his +blue back or maybe I was tired of +running. Either way my mind was +made up before I realized it. I carefully +took off the Chief's gold +badge and put it on in place of my +old one.</p> + +<p>"The new Chief of Police of +Nineport," I said to no one in particular.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Ned said as he passed. +He put one of the prisoners +down long enough to salute, then +went on with his work. I returned +the salute.</p> + +<p>The hospital meat wagon hauled +away the dead and wounded. I took +an evil pleasure in ignoring the +questioning stares of the attendants. +After the doc fixed the side of my +head, everyone cleared out. Ned +mopped up the floor. I ate ten +aspirin and waited for the hammering +to stop so I could think what +to do next.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>When I pulled my thoughts together +the answer was obvious. Too +obvious. I made as long a job as +I could of reloading my gun.</p> + +<p>"Refill your handcuff box, Ned. +We are going out."</p> + +<p>Like a good cop he asked no +questions. I locked the outside door +when we left and gave him the +key.</p> + +<p>"Here. There's a good chance +you will be the only one left to use +this before the day is over."</p> + +<p>I stretched the drive over to +China Joe's place just as much as +I could. Trying to figure if there +was another way of doing it. There +wasn't. Murder had been done and +Joe was the boy I was going to pin +it on. So I had to get him.</p> + +<p>The best I could do was stop +around the corner and give Ned a +briefing.</p> + +<p>"This combination bar and dice-room +is the sole property of he +whom we will still call China Joe +until there is time for you to give +me a rundown on him. Right now +I got enough distractions. What we +have to do is go in there, find Joe +and bring him to justice. Simple?"</p> + +<p>"Simple," Ned answered in his +sharp Joe-college voice. "But +wouldn't it be simpler to make the +arrest now, when he is leaving in +that car, instead of waiting until +he returns?"</p> + +<p>The car in mention was doing +sixty as it came out of the alley +ahead of us. I only had a glimpse +of Joe in the back seat as it tore +by us.</p> + +<p>"Stop them!" I shouted, mostly +for my own benefit since I was +driving. I tried to shift gears and +start the engine at the same time, +and succeeded in doing exactly +nothing.</p> + +<p>So Ned stopped them. It had +been phrased as an order. He leaned +his head out of the window and +I saw at once why most of his +equipment was located in his torso. +Probably his brain as well. There +sure wasn't much room left in his +head when that cannon was tucked +away in there.</p> + +<p>A .75 recoilless. A plate swiveled +back right where his nose should +have been if he had one, and the +big muzzle pointed out. It's a neat +idea when you think about it. Right +between the eyes for good aiming, +up high, always ready.</p> + +<p>The BOOM BOOM almost took +my head off. Of course Ned was +a perfect shot—so would I be with +a computer for a brain. He had +holed one rear tire with each slug +and the car flap-flapped to a stop +a little ways down the road. I +climbed out slowly while Ned +sprinted there in seconds flat. They +didn't even try to run this time. +What little nerve they had left must +have been shattered by the smoking +muzzle of that .75 poking out +from between Ned's eyes. Robots +are neat about things like that so +he must have left it sticking out +deliberate. Probably had a course in +psychology back in robot school.</p> + +<p>Three of them in the car, all +waving their hands in the air like +the last reel of a western. And the +rear floor covered with interesting +little suitcases.</p> + +<p>Everyone came along quietly.</p> + +<p>China Joe only snarled while +Ned told me that his name really +was Stantin and the Elmira hot +seat was kept warm all the time in +hopes he would be back. I promised +Joe-Stantin I would be happy +to arrange it that same day. Thereby +not worrying about any slip-ups +with the local authorities. The rest +of the mob would stand trial in +Canal City.</p> + +<p>It was a very busy day.</p> + +<p>Things have quieted down a +good deal since then. Billy is out of +the hospital and wearing my old +sergeant's stripes. Even Fats is +back, though he is sober once in a +while now and has trouble looking +me in the eye. We don't have much +to do because in addition to being +a quiet town this is now an honest +one.</p> + +<p>Ned is on foot patrol nights and +in charge of the lab and files days. +Maybe the Policeman's Benevolent +wouldn't like that, but Ned doesn't +seem to mind. He touched up all +the bullet scratches and keeps his +badge polished. I know a robot +can't be happy or sad—but Ned +<i>seems</i> to be happy.</p> + +<p>Sometimes I would swear I can +hear him humming to himself. But, +of course, that is only the motors +and things going around.</p> + +<p>When you start thinking about it, +I suppose we set some kind of precedent +here. What with putting on +a robot as a full-fledged police +officer. No one ever came around +from the factory yet, so I have +never found out if we're the first +or not.</p> + +<p>And I'll tell you something else. +I'm not going to stay in this broken-down +town forever. I have some +letters out now, looking for a new +job.</p> + +<p>So some people are going to be +<i>very</i> surprised when they see who +their new Chief of Police is after +<i>I</i> leave.</p> + +<div class="trn"><div class="figt"><a href="images/001-2.jpg"><img src="images/001-1.jpg" width="145" height="200" alt="" title="" /></a></div> + +<p><b><big>Transcriber's Note:</big></b></p> + +<p>This etext was produced from <i>Fantastic Universe</i> August 1958. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Arm of the Law, by Harry Harrison + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARM OF THE LAW *** + +***** This file should be named 29204-h.htm or 29204-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/0/29204/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Arm of the Law + +Author: Harry Harrison + +Release Date: June 22, 2009 [EBook #29204] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARM OF THE LAW *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + _How could a robot--a machine, after all--be involved in something + like law application and violence? Harry Harrison, who will be + remembered for his THE VELVET GLOVE (Nov. 1956) and his more recent + TRAINEE FOR MARS (June 1958) tells what happens when a police robot + hits an outpost on Mars._ + + + arm + of + the + law + + _by ... Harry Harrison_ + + + At one time--this was before the Robot + Restriction Laws--they'd even allowed + them to make their own decisions.... + + +It was a big, coffin-shaped plywood box that looked like it weighed a +ton. This brawny type just dumped it through the door of the police +station and started away. I looked up from the blotter and shouted at +the trucker's vanishing back. + +"What the hell is that?" + +"How should I know?" he said as he swung up into the cab. "I just +deliver, I don't X-ray 'em. It came on the morning rocket from earth is +all I know." He gunned the truck more than he had to and threw up a +billowing cloud of red dust. + +"Jokers," I growled to myself. "Mars is full of jokers." + +When I went over to look at the box I could feel the dust grate between +my teeth. Chief Craig must have heard the racket because he came out of +his office and helped me stand and look at the box. + +"Think it's a bomb?" he asked in a bored voice. + +"Why would anyone bother--particularly with a thing this size? And all +the way from earth." + +He nodded agreement and walked around to look at the other end. There +was no sender's address anywhere on the outside. Finally we had to dig +out the crowbar and I went to work on the top. After some prying it +pulled free and fell off. + +That was when we had our first look at Ned. We all would have been a lot +happier if it had been our last look as well. If we had just put the lid +back on and shipped the thing back to earth! I know now what they mean +about Pandora's Box. + +But we just stood there and stared like a couple of rubes. Ned lay +motionless and stared back at us. + +"A robot!" the Chief said. + +"Very observant; it's easy to see you went to the police academy." + +"Ha ha! Now find out what he's doing here." + +I hadn't gone to the academy, but this was no handicap to my finding the +letter. It was sticking up out of a thick book in a pocket in the box. +The Chief took the letter and read it with little enthusiasm. + +"Well, well! United Robotics have the brainstorm that ... _robots, +correctly used will tend to prove invaluable in police work_ ... they +want us to co-operate in a field test ... _robot enclosed is the latest +experimental model; valued at 120,000 credits_." + +We both looked back at the robot, sharing the wish that the credits had +been in the box instead of it. The Chief frowned and moved his lips +through the rest of the letter. I wondered how we got the robot out of +its plywood coffin. + +Experimental model or not, this was a nice-looking hunk of machinery. A +uniform navy-blue all over, though the outlet cases, hooks and such were +a metallic gold. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to get that +effect. This was as close as a robot could look to a cop in uniform, +without being a joke. All that seemed to be missing was the badge and +gun. + +Then I noticed the tiny glow of light in the robot's eye lenses. It had +never occurred to me before that the thing might be turned on. There was +nothing to lose by finding out. + +"Get out of that box," I said. + +The robot came up smooth and fast as a rocket, landing two feet in front +of me and whipping out a snappy salute. + +"Police Experimental Robot, serial number XPO-456-934B, reporting for +duty, sir." + +His voice quivered with alertness and I could almost hear the humming of +those taut cable muscles. He may have had a stainless steel hide and a +bunch of wires for a brain--but he spelled rookie cop to me just the +same. The fact that he was man-height with two arms, two legs and that +painted-on uniform helped. All I had to do was squint my eyes a bit and +there stood Ned the Rookie Cop. Fresh out of school and raring to go. I +shook my head to get rid of the illusion. This was just six feet of +machine that boffins and brain-boys had turned out for their own +amusement. + +"Relax, Ned," I said. He was still holding the salute. "At ease. You'll +get a hernia of your exhaust pipe if you stay so tense. Anyways, I'm +just the sergeant here. That's the Chief of Police over there." + +Ned did an about face and slid over to the Chief with that same +greased-lightning motion. The Chief just looked at him like something +that sprang out from under the hood of a car, while Ned went through the +same report routine. + +"I wonder if it does anything else beside salute and report," the Chief +said while he walked around the robot, looking it over like a dog with a +hydrant. + +"The functions, operations and responsible courses of action open to the +Police Experimental Robots are outlined on pages 184 to 213 of the +manual." Ned's voice was muffled for a second while he half-dived back +into his case and came up with the volume mentioned. "A detailed +breakdown of these will also be found on pages 1035 to 1267 inclusive." + +The Chief, who has trouble reading an entire comic page at one sitting, +turned the 6-inch-thick book over in his hands like it would maybe bite +him. When he had a rough idea of how much it weighed and a good feel of +the binding he threw it on my desk. + +"Take care of this," he said to me as he headed towards his office. "And +the robot, too. Do something with it." The Chief's span of attention +never was great and it had been strained to the limit this time. + +I flipped through the book, wondering. One thing I never have had much +to do with is robots, so I know just as much about them as any Joe in +the street. Probably less. The book was filled with pages of fine print, +fancy mathematics, wiring diagrams and charts in nine colors and that +kind of thing. It needed close attention. Which attention I was not +prepared to give at the time. The book slid shut and I eyed the newest +employee of the city of Nineport. + +"There is a broom behind the door. Do you know how to use it?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"In that case you will sweep out this room, raising as small a cloud of +dust as possible at the same time." + +He did a very neat job of it. + +I watched 120,000 credits worth of machinery making a tidy pile of butts +and sand and wondered why it had been sent to Nineport. Probably because +there wasn't another police force in the solar system that was smaller +or more unimportant than ours. The engineers must have figured this +would be a good spot for a field test. Even if the thing blew up, nobody +would really mind. There would probably be someone along some day to get +a report on it. Well, they had picked the right spot all right. Nineport +was just a little bit beyond nowhere. + +Which, of course, was why I was there. I was the only real cop on the +force. They needed at least one to give an illusion of the wheels going +around. The Chief, Alonzo Craig, had just enough sense to take graft +without dropping the money. There were two patrolmen. One old and drunk +most of the time. The other so young the only scar he had was the mark +of the attram. I had ten years on a metropolitan force, earthside. Why I +left is nobody's damn business. I have long since paid for any mistakes +I made there by ending up in Nineport. + +Nineport is not a city, it's just a place where people stop. The only +permanent citizens are the ones who cater to those on the way through. +Hotel keepers, restaurant owners, gamblers, barkeeps, and the rest. + +There is a spaceport, but only some freighters come there. To pick up +the metal from some of the mines that are still working. Some of the +settlers still came in for supplies. You might say that Nineport was a +town that just missed the boat. In a hundred years I doubt if there will +be enough left sticking of the sand to even tell where it used to be. I +won't be there either, so I couldn't care less. + +I went back to the blotter. Five drunks in the tank, an average night's +haul. While I wrote them up Fats dragged in the sixth one. + +"Locked himself in the ladies' john at the spaceport and resisting +arrest," he reported. + +"D and D. Throw him in with the rest." + +Fats steered his limp victim across the floor, matching him step for +dragging step. I always marveled at the way Fats took care of drunks, +since he usually had more under his belt than they had. I have never +seen him falling down drunk or completely sober. About all he was good +for was keeping a blurred eye on the lockup and running in drunks. He +did well at that. No matter what they crawled under or on top of, he +found them. No doubt due to the same shared natural instincts. + +Fats clanged the door behind number six and weaved his way back in. +"What's that?" he asked, peering at the robot along the purple beauty of +his nose. + +"That is a robot. I have forgotten the number his mother gave him at the +factory so we will call him Ned. He works here now." + +"Good for him! He can clean up the tank after we throw the bums out." + +"That's _my_ job," Billy said coming in through the front door. He +clutched his nightstick and scowled out from under the brim of his +uniform cap. It is not that Billy is stupid, just that most of his +strength has gone into his back instead of his mind. + +"That's Ned's job now because you have a promotion. You are going to +help me with some of my work." + +Billy came in very handy at times and I was anxious that the force +shouldn't lose him. My explanation cheered him because he sat down by +Fats and watched Ned do the floor. + +That's the way things went for about a week. We watched Ned sweep and +polish until the station began to take on a positively antiseptic look. +The Chief, who always has an eye out for that type of thing, found out +that Ned could file the odd ton of reports and paperwork that cluttered +his office. All this kept the robot busy, and we got so used to him we +were hardly aware he was around. I knew he had moved the packing case +into the storeroom and fixed himself up a cozy sort of robot +dormitory-coffin. Other than that I didn't know or care. + +The operation manual was buried in my desk and I never looked at it. If +I had, I might have had some idea of the big changes that were in store. +None of us knew the littlest bit about what a robot can or cannot do. +Ned was working nicely as a combination janitor-file clerk and should +have stayed that way. He would have too if the Chief hadn't been so +lazy. That's what started it all. + +It was around nine at night and the Chief was just going home when the +call came in. He took it, listened for a moment, then hung up. + +"Greenback's liquor store. He got held up again. Says to come at once." + +"That's a change. Usually we don't hear about it until a month later. +What's he paying protection money for if China Joe ain't protecting? +What's the rush now?" + +The Chief chewed his loose lip for a while, finally and painfully +reached a decision. + +"You better go around and see what the trouble is." + +"Sure," I said reaching for my cap. "But no one else is around, you'll +have to watch the desk until I get back." + +"That's no good," he moaned. "I'm dying from hunger and sitting here +isn't going to help me any." + +"I will go take the report," Ned said, stepping forward and snapping his +usual well-greased salute. + +At first the Chief wasn't buying. You would think the water cooler came +to life and offered to take over his job. + +"How could _you_ take a report?" he growled, putting the wise-guy water +cooler in its place. But he had phrased his little insult as a question +so he had only himself to blame. In exactly three minutes Ned gave the +Chief a summary of the routine necessary for a police officer to make a +report on an armed robbery or other reported theft. From the glazed look +in Chief's protruding eyes I could tell Ned had quickly passed the +boundaries of the Chief's meager knowledge. + +"Enough!" the harried man finally gasped. "If you know so much why don't +you make a report?" + +Which to me sounded like another version of "_if you're so damned smart +why ain't you rich?_" which we used to snarl at the brainy kids in +grammar school. Ned took such things literally though, and turned +towards the door. + +"Do you mean you wish me to make a report on this robbery?" + +"Yes," the Chief said just to get rid of him, and we watched his blue +shape vanish through the door. + +"He must be brighter than he looks," I said. "He never stopped to ask +where Greenback's store is." + +The Chief nodded and the phone rang again. His hand was still resting on +it so he picked it up by reflex. He listened for a second and you would +have thought someone was pumping blood out of his heel from the way his +face turned white. + +"The holdup's still on," he finally gasped. "Greenback's delivery boy is +on the line--calling back to see where we are. Says he's under a table +in the back room ..." + +I never heard the rest of it because I was out the door and into the +car. There were a hundred things that could happen if Ned got there +before me. Guns could go off, people hurt, lots of things. And the +police would be to blame for it all--sending a tin robot to do a cop's +job. Maybe the Chief had ordered Ned there, but clearly as if the words +were painted on the windshield of the car, I knew I would be dragged +into it. It never gets very warm on Mars, but I was sweating. + +Nineport has fourteen traffic regulations and I broke all of them before +I had gone a block. Fast as I was, Ned was faster. As I turned the +corner I saw him open the door of Greenback's store and walk in. I +screamed brakes in behind him and arrived just in time to have a gallery +seat. A shooting gallery at that. + +There were two holdup punks, one behind the counter making like a clerk +and the other lounging off to the side. Their guns were out of sight, +but blue-coated Ned busting through the door like that was too much for +their keyed up nerves. Up came both guns like they were on strings and +Ned stopped dead. I grabbed for my own gun and waited for pieces of +busted robot to come flying through the window. + +Ned's reflexes were great. Which I suppose is what you should expect of +a robot. + +"DROP YOUR GUNS, YOU ARE UNDER ARREST." + +He must have had on full power or something, his voice blasted so loud +my ears hurt. The result was just what you might expect. Both torpedoes +let go at once and the air was filled with flying slugs. The show +windows went out with a crash and I went down on my stomach. From the +amount of noise I knew they both had recoilless .50's. You can't stop +one of those slugs. They go right through you and anything else that +happens to be in the way. + +Except they didn't seem to be bothering Ned. The only notice he seemed +to take was to cover his eyes. A little shield with a thin slit popped +down over his eye lenses. Then he moved in on the first thug. + +I knew he was fast, but not that fast. A couple of slugs jarred him as +he came across the room, but before the punk could change his aim Ned +had the gun in his hand. That was the end of that. He put on one of the +sweetest hammer locks I have ever seen and neatly grabbed the gun when +it dropped from the limp fingers. With the same motion that slipped the +gun into a pouch he whipped out a pair of handcuffs and snapped them on +the punk's wrists. + +Holdupnik number two was heading for the door by then, and I was waiting +to give him a warm reception. There was never any need. He hadn't gone +halfway before Ned slid in front of him. There was a thud when they hit +that didn't even shake Ned, but gave the other a glazed look. He never +even knew it when Ned slipped the cuffs on him and dropped him down next +to his partner. + +I went in, took their guns from Ned, and made the arrest official. That +was all Greenback saw when he crawled out from behind the counter and it +was all I wanted him to see. The place was a foot deep in broken glass +and smelled like the inside of a Jack Daniels bottle. Greenback began to +howl like a wolf over his lost stock. He didn't seem to know any more +about the phone call than I did, so I grabbed ahold of a pimply looking +kid who staggered out of the storeroom. He was the one who had made the +calls. + +It turned out to be a matter of sheer stupidity. He had worked for +Greenback only a few days and didn't have enough brains to realize that +all holdups should be reported to the protection boys instead of the +police. I told Greenback to wise up his boy, as look at the trouble that +got caused. Then pushed the two ex-holdup men out to the car. Ned +climbed in back with them and they clung together like two waifs in a +storm. The robot's only response was to pull a first aid kit from his +hip and fix up a ricochet hole in one of the thugs that no one had +noticed in the excitement. + + * * * * * + +The Chief was still sitting there with that bloodless look when we +marched in. I didn't believe it could be done, but he went two shades +whiter. + +"You made the pinch," he whispered. Before I could straighten him out a +second and more awful idea hit him. He grabbed a handful of shirt on the +first torpedo and poked his face down. "You with China Joe," he snarled. + +The punk made the error of trying to be cute so the Chief let him have +one on the head with the open hand that set his eyes rolling like +marbles. When the question got asked again he found the right answer. + +"I never heard from no China Joe. We just hit town today and--" + +"Freelance, by God," the Chief sighed and collapsed into his chair. +"Lock 'em up and quickly tell me what in hell happened." + +I slammed the gate on them and pointed a none too steady finger at Ned. + +"There's the hero," I said. "Took them on single-handed, rassled them +for a fall and made the capture. He is a one-robot tornado, a power for +good in this otherwise evil community. And he's bulletproof too." I ran +a finger over Ned's broad chest. The paint was chipped by the slugs, but +the metal was hardly scratched. + +"This is going to cause me trouble, big trouble," the Chief wailed. + +I knew he meant with the protection boys. They did not like punks +getting arrested and guns going off without their okay. But Ned thought +the Chief had other worries and rushed in to put them right. "There will +be no trouble. At no time did I violate any of the Robotic Restriction +Laws, they are part of my control circuits and therefore fully +automatic. The men who drew their guns violated both robotic and human +law when they threatened violence. I did not injure the men--merely +restrained them." + +It was all over the Chief's head, but I liked to think _I_ could follow +it. And I _had_ been wondering how a robot--a machine--could be involved +in something like law application and violence. Ned had the answer to +that one too. + +"Robots have been assuming these functions for years. Don't recording +radar meters pass judgment on human violation of automobile regulations? +A robot alcohol detector is better qualified to assess the sobriety of a +prisoner than the arresting officer. At one time robots were even +allowed to make their own decisions about killing. Before the Robotic +Restriction Laws automatic gun-pointers were in general use. Their final +development was a self-contained battery of large anti-aircraft guns. +Automatic scan radar detected all aircraft in the vicinity. Those that +could not return the correct identifying signal had their courses +tracked and computed, automatic fuse-cutters and loaders readied the +computer-aimed guns--which were fired by the robot mechanism." + +There was little I could argue about with Ned. Except maybe his +college-professor vocabulary. So I switched the attack. + +"But a robot can't take the place of a cop, it's a complex human job." + +"Of course it is, but taking a human policeman's place is not the +function of a police robot. Primarily I combine the functions of +numerous pieces of police equipment, integrating their operations and +making them instantly available. In addition I can aid in the +_mechanical_ processes of law enforcement. If you arrest a man you +handcuff him. But if you order me to do it, I have made no moral +decision. I am just a machine for attaching handcuffs at that point ..." + +My raised hand cut off the flow of robotic argument. Ned was hipped to +his ears with facts and figures and I had a good idea who would come off +second best in any continued discussion. No laws had been broken when +Ned made the pinch, that was for sure. But there are other laws than +those that appear on the books. + +"China Joe is not going to like this, not at all," the Chief said, +speaking my own thoughts. + +The law of Tooth and Claw. That's one that wasn't in the law books. And +that was what ran Nineport. The place was just big enough to have a good +population of gambling joints, bawdy houses and drunk-rollers. They were +all run by China Joe. As was the police department. We were all in his +pocket and you might say he was the one who paid our wages. This is not +the kind of thing, though, that you explain to a robot. + +"Yeah, China Joe." + +I thought it was an echo at first, then realized that someone had eased +in the door behind me. Something called Alex. Six feet of bone, muscle +and trouble. China Joe's right hand man. He imitated a smile at the +Chief who sank a bit lower in his chair. + +"China Joe wants you should tell him why you got smart cops going around +and putting the arm on people and letting them shoot up good liquor. +He's mostly angry about the hooch. He says that he had enough guff and +after this you should--" + +"I am putting you under Robot Arrest, pursuant to article 46, paragraph +19 of the revised statutes ..." + +Ned had done it before we realized he had even moved. Right in front of +our eyes he was arresting Alex and signing our death warrants. + +Alex was not slow. As he turned to see who had grabbed him, he had +already dragged out this cannon. He got one shot in, square against +Ned's chest, before the robot plucked the gun away and slipped on the +cuffs. While we all gaped like dead fish, Ned recited the charge in what +I swear was a satisfied tone. + +"The prisoner is Peter Rakjomskj, alias Alex the Axe, wanted in Canal +City for armed robbery and attempted murder. Also wanted by local police +of Detroit, New York and Manchester on charges of ..." + +"_Get it off me!_" Alex howled. We might have too, and everything might +have still been straightened out if Benny Bug hadn't heard the shot. He +popped his head in the front door just long enough to roll his eyes over +our little scene. + +"Alex ... they're puttin' the arm on Alex!" + +Then he was gone and when I hit the door he was nowhere in sight. China +Joe's boys always went around in pairs. And in ten minutes he would know +all about it. + +"Book him," I told Ned. "It wouldn't make any difference if we let him +go now. The world has already come to an end." + +Fats came in then, mumbling to himself. He jerked a thumb over his +shoulder when he saw me. + +"What's up? I see little Benny Bug come out of here like the place was +on fire and almost get killed driving away?" + +Then Fats saw Alex with the bracelets on and turned sober in one second. +He just took a moment to gape, then his mind was made up. Without a +trace of a stagger he walked over to the Chief and threw his badge on +the desk in front of him. + +"I am an old man and I drink too much to be a cop. Therefore I am +resigning from the force. Because if that is whom I think it is over +there with the cuffs on, I will not live to be a day older as long as I +am around here." + +"Rat." The Chief growled in pain through his clenched teeth. "Deserting +the sinking ship. Rat." + +"Squeak," Fats said and left. + +The Chief was beyond caring at this point. He didn't blink an eye when I +took Fats' badge off the desk. I don't know why I did it, perhaps I +thought it was only fair. Ned had started all the trouble and I was just +angry enough to want him on the spot when it was finished. There were +two rings on his chest plate, and I was not surprised when the badge pin +fitted them neatly. + +"There, now you are a real cop." Sarcasm dripped from the words. I +should have realized that robots are immune to sarcasm. Ned took my +statement at face value. + +"This is a very great honor, not only for me but for all robots. I will +do my best to fulfill all the obligations of the office." Jack Armstrong +in tin underwear. I could hear the little motors in his guts humming +with joy as he booked Alex. + +If everything else hadn't been so bad I would have enjoyed that. Ned had +more police equipment built into him than Nineport had ever owned. There +was an ink pad that snapped out of one hip, and he efficiently rolled +Alex's fingertips across it and stamped them on a card. Then he held the +prisoner at arm's length while something clicked in his abdomen. Once +more sideways and two instant photographs dropped out of a slot. The mug +shots were stuck on the card, arrest details and such inserted. There +was more like this, but I forced myself away. There were more important +things to think about. + +Like staying alive. + +"Any ideas, Chief?" + +A groan was my only answer so I let it go at that. Billy, the balance of +the police force, came in then. I gave him a quick rundown. Either +through stupidity or guts he elected to stay, and I was proud of the +boy. Ned locked away the latest prisoner and began sweeping up. + +That was the way we were when China Joe walked in. + +Even though we were expecting it, it was still a shock. He had a bunch +of his toughest hoods with him and they crowded through the door like an +overweight baseball team. China Joe was in front, hands buried in the +sleeves of his long mandarin gown. No expression at all on his ascetic +features. He didn't waste time talking to us, just gave the word to his +own boys. + +"Clean this place up. The new police Chief will be here in a while and I +don't want him to see any bums hanging around." + +It made me angry. Even with the graft I like to feel I'm still a cop. +Not on a cheap punk's payroll. I was also curious about China Joe. Had +been ever since I tried to get a line on him and never found a thing. I +still wanted to know. + +"Ned, take a good look at that Chinese guy in the rayon bathrobe and let +me know who he is." + +My, but those electronic circuits work fast. Ned shot the answer back +like a straight man who had been rehearsing his lines for weeks. + +"He is a pseudo-oriental, utilizing a natural sallowness of the skin +heightened with dye. He is not Chinese. There has also been an operation +on his eyes, scars of which are still visible. This has been undoubtedly +done in an attempt to conceal his real identity, but Bertillon +measurements of his ears and other features make identity positive. He +is on the Very Wanted list of Interpol and his real name is ..." + +China Joe was angry, and with a reason. + +"That's the _thing_ ... that big-mouthed tin radio set over there. We +heard about it and we're taking care of it!" + +The mob jumped aside then or hit the deck and I saw there was a guy +kneeling in the door with a rocket launcher. Shaped anti-tank charges, +no doubt. That was my last thought as the thing let go with a "whoosh." + +Maybe you can hit a tank with one of those. But not a robot. At least +not a police robot. Ned was sliding across the floor on his face when +the back wall blew up. There was no second shot. Ned closed his hand on +the tube of the bazooka and it was so much old drainpipe. + +Billy decided then that anyone who fired a rocket in a police station +was breaking the law, so he moved in with his club. I was right behind +him since I did not want to miss any of the fun. Ned was at the bottom +somewhere, but I didn't doubt he could take care of himself. + +There were a couple of muffled shots and someone screamed. No one fired +after that because we were too tangled up. A punk named Brooklyn Eddie +hit me on the side of the head with his gunbutt and I broke his nose +all over his face with my fist. + + * * * * * + +There is a kind of a fog over everything after that. But I do remember +it was very busy for a while. + +When the fog lifted a bit I realized I was the only one still standing. +Or leaning rather. It was a good thing the wall was there. + +Ned came in through the street door carrying a very bashed-looking +Brooklyn Eddie. I hoped I had done all that. Eddie's wrists were +fastened together with cuffs. Ned laid him gently next to the heap of +thugs--who I suddenly realized all wore the same kind of handcuffs. I +wondered vaguely if Ned made them as he needed them or had a supply +tucked away in a hollow leg or something. + +There was a chair a few feet away and sitting down helped. + +Blood was all over everything and if a couple of the hoods hadn't +groaned I would have thought they were corpses. One was, I noticed +suddenly. A bullet had caught him in the chest, most of the blood was +probably his. + +Ned burrowed in the bodies for a moment and dragged Billy out. He was +unconscious. A big smile on his face and the splintered remains of his +nightstick still stuck in his fist. It takes very little to make some +people happy. A bullet had gone through his leg and he never moved while +Ned ripped the pants leg off and put on a bandage. + +"The spurious China Joe and one other man escaped in a car," Ned +reported. + +"Don't let it worry you," I managed to croak. "Your batting average +still leads the league." + +It was then I realized the Chief was still sitting in his chair, where +he had been when the brouhaha started. Still slumped down with that +glazed look. Only after I started to talk to him did I realize that +Alonzo Craig, Chief of Police of Nineport, was now dead. + +A single shot. Small caliber gun, maybe a .22. Right through the heart +and what blood there had been was soaked up by his clothes. I had a good +idea where the gun would be that fired that shot. A small gun, the kind +that would fit in a wide Chinese sleeve. + +I wasn't tired or groggy any more. Just angry. Maybe he hadn't been the +brightest or most honest guy in the world. But he deserved a better end +than that. Knocked off by a two-bit racket boss who thought he was being +crossed. + +Right about then I realized I had a big decision to make. With Billy out +of the fight and Fats gone I was the Nineport police force. All I had to +do to be clear of this mess was to walk out the door and keep going. I +would be safe enough. + +Ned buzzed by, picked up two of the thugs, and hauled them off to the +cells. + +Maybe it was the sight of his blue back or maybe I was tired of running. +Either way my mind was made up before I realized it. I carefully took +off the Chief's gold badge and put it on in place of my old one. + +"The new Chief of Police of Nineport," I said to no one in particular. + +"Yes, sir," Ned said as he passed. He put one of the prisoners down long +enough to salute, then went on with his work. I returned the salute. + +The hospital meat wagon hauled away the dead and wounded. I took an evil +pleasure in ignoring the questioning stares of the attendants. After the +doc fixed the side of my head, everyone cleared out. Ned mopped up the +floor. I ate ten aspirin and waited for the hammering to stop so I could +think what to do next. + + * * * * * + +When I pulled my thoughts together the answer was obvious. Too obvious. +I made as long a job as I could of reloading my gun. + +"Refill your handcuff box, Ned. We are going out." + +Like a good cop he asked no questions. I locked the outside door when we +left and gave him the key. + +"Here. There's a good chance you will be the only one left to use this +before the day is over." + +I stretched the drive over to China Joe's place just as much as I could. +Trying to figure if there was another way of doing it. There wasn't. +Murder had been done and Joe was the boy I was going to pin it on. So I +had to get him. + +The best I could do was stop around the corner and give Ned a briefing. + +"This combination bar and dice-room is the sole property of he whom we +will still call China Joe until there is time for you to give me a +rundown on him. Right now I got enough distractions. What we have to do +is go in there, find Joe and bring him to justice. Simple?" + +"Simple," Ned answered in his sharp Joe-college voice. "But wouldn't it +be simpler to make the arrest now, when he is leaving in that car, +instead of waiting until he returns?" + +The car in mention was doing sixty as it came out of the alley ahead of +us. I only had a glimpse of Joe in the back seat as it tore by us. + +"Stop them!" I shouted, mostly for my own benefit since I was driving. I +tried to shift gears and start the engine at the same time, and +succeeded in doing exactly nothing. + +So Ned stopped them. It had been phrased as an order. He leaned his head +out of the window and I saw at once why most of his equipment was +located in his torso. Probably his brain as well. There sure wasn't much +room left in his head when that cannon was tucked away in there. + +A .75 recoilless. A plate swiveled back right where his nose should have +been if he had one, and the big muzzle pointed out. It's a neat idea +when you think about it. Right between the eyes for good aiming, up +high, always ready. + +The BOOM BOOM almost took my head off. Of course Ned was a perfect +shot--so would I be with a computer for a brain. He had holed one rear +tire with each slug and the car flap-flapped to a stop a little ways +down the road. I climbed out slowly while Ned sprinted there in seconds +flat. They didn't even try to run this time. What little nerve they had +left must have been shattered by the smoking muzzle of that .75 poking +out from between Ned's eyes. Robots are neat about things like that so +he must have left it sticking out deliberate. Probably had a course in +psychology back in robot school. + +Three of them in the car, all waving their hands in the air like the +last reel of a western. And the rear floor covered with interesting +little suitcases. + +Everyone came along quietly. + +China Joe only snarled while Ned told me that his name really was +Stantin and the Elmira hot seat was kept warm all the time in hopes he +would be back. I promised Joe-Stantin I would be happy to arrange it +that same day. Thereby not worrying about any slip-ups with the local +authorities. The rest of the mob would stand trial in Canal City. + +It was a very busy day. + +Things have quieted down a good deal since then. Billy is out of the +hospital and wearing my old sergeant's stripes. Even Fats is back, +though he is sober once in a while now and has trouble looking me in the +eye. We don't have much to do because in addition to being a quiet town +this is now an honest one. + +Ned is on foot patrol nights and in charge of the lab and files days. +Maybe the Policeman's Benevolent wouldn't like that, but Ned doesn't +seem to mind. He touched up all the bullet scratches and keeps his badge +polished. I know a robot can't be happy or sad--but Ned _seems_ to be +happy. + +Sometimes I would swear I can hear him humming to himself. But, of +course, that is only the motors and things going around. + +When you start thinking about it, I suppose we set some kind of +precedent here. What with putting on a robot as a full-fledged police +officer. No one ever came around from the factory yet, so I have never +found out if we're the first or not. + +And I'll tell you something else. I'm not going to stay in this +broken-down town forever. I have some letters out now, looking for a new +job. + +So some people are going to be _very_ surprised when they see who their +new Chief of Police is after _I_ leave. + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Fantastic Universe_ August 1958. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and + typographical errors have been corrected without note. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Arm of the Law, by Harry Harrison + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARM OF THE LAW *** + +***** This file should be named 29204.txt or 29204.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/0/29204/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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