Billy nodded. “Tell me, John. I see a horde of Jonathan Conklin clones and those damned orange-headed vampires closing in on the Atmosphere Factory. I have friends down there in the fighting.” Billy pointed. “Can those mirrors be used against them?”
“A weapon? I don’t see why not. But only as long as the sun lasts.”
“We have to
get you out of here and back to the Argent. Edgar and Pat should have the ship ready to fly by now. Can you tell me how to aim and fire these reflectors?”
“Pippish,” Koothrappally said.
“Pippish?” Avi asked.
“Pippish. It is the robot who attends me. He never brings me enough to eat, and he only understands a few commands. I may be able to get him to assist us.”
“Where is this Pippish?” Avi asked.
“I don’t know. He turns off when he isn’t needed. I think he is—or was—Mort Prime’s servant robot, so you may find him in his bedchamber. Turn him on and command him to follow you. Bring him here.”
“I’ll do that,” Billy said. “Avi, you get down to the courtyard and bring that flier up here.”
“Yes,” Avi said. “I will return in a few minutes.”
Koothrappally continued to eat and drink while Billy and Avi rushed off to do their separate tasks. Several minutes later a large dragonfly-type contraption settled noisily on the roof. Koothrappally watched in awe as his fellow countryman switched the thing off and dismounted.
Billy returned with a slender robot that seemed to be little more than rods and ball joints with a tin can for a head.
“Pippish,” Koothrappally said. “Turn the message mirrors on.”
The robot stopped in its tracks, then turned and walked to the closest mirror. It thumbed a dial and the great light bulb underneath came to life. There was a low rumble from the floor beneath them.
“What’s that?” Billy asked.
“The generator beneath the roof turns on to recharge the batteries whenever the bulbs are in operation. They will not cause burn-damage at night, which is quickly approaching, but they will cause blindness.”
“I want all the power I can get from the sun and the generator,” Billy said. “Pippish. Help me rotate this thing. We want to aim it at the ground.”
The robot complied. It pulled on a lever bar and the great concave mirror ratcheted downward.
Billy quickly got how the contraption worked by watching the robot, and swiveled it to aim at the backs of the enemy horde a mile away.
Wherever he turned the beam, morts and corts began to burn.
He raked away a swath of them by moving the mirror around. Hundreds of clones crisped and burned.
A cannon shot struck the edge of the castle roof and shards of stone rained around them.
“That was close!” Avi said. “We have to get out of here.”
“We’re leaving, Pippish. Continue firing at the figures below.”
The robot tilted its head once, giving the impression of a nod, and therefore understanding.
“Avi,” Billy called. “Get the flyer started. I’ll get John.”
John Koothrappally stood slowly under his own power as Billy came to his side. “I’m glad you can stand. I’ll help you walk. In a minute, we’ll be flying.”
“Billy,” Avi shouted. “I don’t know if this flyer can take all our weight.”
“It’ll have to. Besides, John weighs no more than a sack of beans.” Billy looked at John as he put his shoulder under Koothrappally’s left arm and began walking him toward the flyer.