by Eando Binder
“Adam Link,” Trent greeted. “How did you do it? You blew up the dome somehow?”
“I did,” I returned proudly. “Sabotage with a capital S. You see, I rammed their spaceship smack into the atomic-power unit and—”
Trent and the others listened, puzzled.
“Spaceship? Atomic-power unit? What are you talking about?”
“The aliens,” I said. “The aliens who built the dome—”
“Yes, of course, the aliens,” Trent nodded. “But which aliens? All foreigners are aliens, naturally. Tell us, was it the foreign power we expected it was?”
“Don’t you understand—” I began, but Eve shook her head at me. I knew what she meant. There was not one stick or stone left of the dome. Besides Adam and Eve Link, no human eyes except those of men now dead had seen the aliens from outer space.
My voice ground to a stop. Trent and the others were patiently waiting to hear which foreign power across the sea had been so close to invading America.
They did not even know, of course, that this had been an invasion from outer space.
It took me some time to put across the truth, in low measured tones. Their faces registered complete shock. It was a mental atomic bomb bursting, to them. It was immediately classified and Eve and I were sworn to secrecy.
But I had a shock too, when we reached Washington the next day. Eve clutched my arm as figures approached. Three of them I recognized instantly—Jack Hall and his wife Kay, and Tom Link. My staunch human friends who had stuck with me through thick and thin, for five years.
Also I saw Bart Oliver, and Senator Willoughby, and Dalhgren and Jenson, and other humans who had known me and sympathized with me. What did it mean, all of them gathered together, greeting my return from the alien fort? It seemed to be a sort of ceremony.
The last figure I blinked at, with my mouth open.
“The President of the United States!” Eve gasped.
The President held an object in his hand. “Adam Link,” he said. “It seems downright silly to give you this. You didn’t save America. You saved the world. The U.N. would give you a better decoration”—he bent over to whisper in my ear—“except that the fort affair report has been consigned to their secret files, as well as ours. The world will never be told—it wouldn’t believe.”
He straightened up, spoke loudly. “Here is the best award from America, the Congressional Medal of Honor.”
He went on, unfolding a paper. “What’s more, please accept these papers without any strings attached, on your own special terms. I only make one solemn request of you, Adam Link”.
His voice was grave. “Don’t run against me in the next election. You might win.”
Now his face had broken into a broad grin. How I ever got those papers open, with my ten thumbs, I’ll never know. Then Eve and I saw what the document, in duplicate, was . . .
Jack and Kay and Tom were beside me, faces beaming.
All my human friends were here, sharing the moment with me.
One other was with me in spirit—Dr. Link, my creator.
“Hello, Mr. Adam Link, citizen of the United States,” Eve whispered to me softly.
Epilogue
That is my story—the story of Adam Link.
Have I truly solved my problems? Is it really wise for robots to gain citizenship? Or should they be patented? Should Eve and I create a robot race? Would they aid mankind—or become Frankensteins?
Am I, the first intelligent robot, a monster—or a man?
I will let you decide. The facts of the matter are before you. You will have time to think it over, all over earth. You will not hear from me for years, perhaps.
Eve and I are meanwhile working on a project that will take all our time and effort. We are leaving earth after all—the world in which, for a time, we seemed to have no place—but our going away is only to think through our robot future, thoroughly.
Before this decade is out, your newspapers will bear the sensational headline—“FIRST ASTRONAUTS ACHIEVE LUNAR LANDING!” I wish you humans luck in reaching the moon successfully.
When you do, I’ll be waiting there for you.
—Adam Link