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    The Knights of Arthur
    The Knights of Arthur
    The Knights of Arthur
    Ebook60 pages40 minutes

    The Knights of Arthur

    By Frederik Pohl

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    About this ebook

    First of all, Arthur was a machine. He rode out the missile attack that shattered the United States safe at sea aboard a hospital ship. But when he took to land with two friends -- human friends -- that's when things got dicey. Because an Artificial Intelligence with his skills could do a lot of work, and quite a few people wanted him. Preferably without his human friends in tow... A classic from the Golden Age of science fiction!
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStart Publishing LLC
    Release dateSep 3, 2014
    ISBN9781633557260
    Author

    Frederik Pohl

    Frederik Pohl (1919-2013) was one of science fiction's most important authors. Among his many novels are Gateway, which won the John W. Campbell Memorial Award, the Hugo Award, the Locus SF Award, and the Nebula Award, Beyond the Blue Event Horizon, which was a finalist for the Hugo and Nebula Awards, and Jem, which won the 1980 National Book Award in Science Fiction. He also collaborated on classic science fiction novels including The Space Merchants with Cyril M. Kornbluth. Pohl was an award-winning editor of Galaxy and If, a book editor at Bantam, and served as president of the Science Fiction Writers of America. He was named a Grand Master of Science Fiction by SFWA in 1993, and was inducted into the Science Fiction and Fantasy Hall of Fame.

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      Book preview

      The Knights of Arthur - Frederik Pohl

      I

      There was three of us—I mean if you count Arthur. We split up to avoid attracting attention. Engdahl just came in over the big bridge, but I had Arthur with me so I had to come the long way around.

      When I registered at the desk, I said I was from Chicago. You know how it is. If you say you're from Philadelphia, it's like saying you're from St. Louis or Detroit—I mean nobody lives in Philadelphia any more. Shows how things change. A couple years ago, Philadelphia was all the fashion. But not now, and I wanted to make a good impression.

      I even tipped the bellboy a hundred and fifty dollars. I said: Do me a favor. I've got my baggage booby-trapped—

      Natch, he said, only mildly impressed by the bill and a half, even less impressed by me.

      "I mean really booby-trapped. Not just a burglar alarm. Besides the alarm, there's a little surprise on a short fuse. So what I want you to do, if you hear the alarm go off, is come running. Right?"

      And get my head blown off? He slammed my bags onto the floor. Mister, you can take your damn money and—

      Wait a minute, friend. I passed over another hundred. Please? It's only a shaped charge. It won't hurt anything except anybody who messes around, see? But I don't want it to go off. So you come running when you hear the alarm and scare him away and—

      No! But he was less positive. I gave him two hundred more and he said grudgingly: All right. If I hear it. Say, what's in there that's worth all that trouble?

      Papers, I lied.

      He leered. Sure.

      No fooling, it's just personal stuff. Not worth a penny to anybody but me, understand? So don't get any ideas—

      He said in an injured tone: "Mister, naturally the staff won't bother your stuff. What kind of a hotel do you think this is?"

      Of course, of course, I said. But I knew he was lying, because I knew what kind of hotel it was. The staff was there only because being there gave them a chance to knock down more money than they could make any other way. What other kind of hotel was there?

      Anyway, the way to keep the staff on my side was by bribery, and when he left I figured I had him at least temporarily bought. He promised to keep an eye on the room and he would be on duty for four more hours—which gave me plenty of time for my errands.

      *

      I made sure Arthur was plugged in and cleaned myself up. They had water running—New York's very good that way; they always have water running. It was even hot, or nearly hot. I let the shower splash over me for a while, because there was a lot of dust and dirt from the Bronx that I had to get off me. The way it looked, hardly anybody had been up that way since it happened.

      I dried myself, got dressed and looked out the window. We were fairly high up—fifteenth floor. I could see the Hudson and the big bridge up north of us. There was a huge cloud of smoke coming from somewhere near the bridge on the other side of the river, but outside of that everything looked normal. You would have thought there were people in all those houses. Even the streets looked pretty good, until you noticed that hardly any of the cars were moving.

      I opened the little bag and loaded my pockets with enough money to run my errands. At the door, I stopped and called over my shoulder to Arthur: Don't worry if I'm gone an hour or so. I'll be back.

      I didn't wait for an answer. That would have been pointless under the circumstances.

      After Philadelphia, this place seemed to be bustling with activity. There were four or five people in the lobby and a couple of dozen more out in the street.

      I tarried at the desk for several reasons. In the first place, I was expecting Vern Engdahl to try to contact me and I didn't want him messing with the luggage—not while Arthur might get nervous. So I told the desk clerk that in case anybody came inquiring for Mr. Schlaepfer, which was the name I was using—my real name being Sam Dunlap—he was to be told that on no

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