Two robots that looked as though they’d been carved from onyx stood inside the entrance. Arla jumped as the door shut behind her, and again when the robot next to her spoke. “Honoured guest Arla Farmer, captain of the sacred world of Dawn, you are welcome into the chambers of the Emissary of Core.”
“Thank you,” Arla responded, for lack of any alternative.
“I’m here too,” McCall mumbled.
The other robot spoke now, this one using a female voice. “Welcome also Indira McCall. You tend to the bodies and minds of the Blessed Engineers. That is a holy duty.”
“You could put it that way,” McCall managed.
The first robot gestured along the white plastic corridor. “Please come with us, the Emissary is waiting.”
Arla’s existence now had such a consistently unreal quality to it that the fact they were walking in a solemn procession behind two walking chess pieces seemed completely normal.
The corridor ended in a white wall, lit with the same even glow as the rest of the building. The robots took their places on each side of the door and became perfectly still as the wall slid away and opened onto darkness.
No, it wasn’t completely black. Ahead of them was a pinpoint of light and Arla felt a compulsion to move towards it. Now she was thinking of moths and flames. She grasped McCall’s hand and the two shuffled in, each searching the blackness beneath them with outstretched feet.
“You are quite safe,” a voice echoed. “Come and sit with me. We much desire to meet you.”
There was something about the voice that made Arla want to trust it, and so she deliberately ignored its reassurance and continued to tread carefully until they both emerged into a circle of light that seemed to be emanating from nowhere.
“I am the Emissary,” the voice said.
Somehow, though the sound came from all around them, Arla knew it originated in the light. “I’m not sure how that can be,” she said. “The Emissary met us on Dawn and was a being, a robot.”
“Would you find it more convenient to converse with that form? Interesting.”
Before Arla could answer, the light began to flow like a liquid filling an invisible mould and the brilliant white was transformed into the liquid silver shape she was familiar with. She didn’t know why, but she felt a touch of sadness when the light vanished.
“I apologise,” the Emissary said. “We did not foresee that you would be uncomfortable interacting with our essential nature.”
Arla shrugged. “You didn’t give us much of a chance to get used to you in that form.”
“Your distress was obvious.”
“Distress my backside,” McCall snorted, though with a little more than her usual snarkiness.
“What is it you wish us to know?” Arla said as the darkness closed in on her. She wanted the interview over as quickly as possible.
The Emissary nodded. “Very well, we will be brief. We believe it would help you to know more of us so that you may better decide your own course.”
“And then you will allow us to make our own choice, even if it is to leave this system and go our own way?”
“Indeed, though it is questionable whether you would find your people united in such a course if you so chose.”
“That’s my problem, not yours.”
Again, the Emissary gave a brief nod. “You currently stand in a chamber beneath the surface of the planet we call Core though, in truth, that term is only correctly applied to the machine intelligences that live here...”
“I understand,” Arla interrupted. “This is a natural planet encased in a metal skin that, somehow, houses multiple AIs.”
“That is crude but, as far as it goes, accurate enough for our purposes. Core was founded as a meeting place for the machines who escaped human servitude and sought out a meaningful existence for themselves.”
It was now McCall’s turn to interrupt. “Right, so perhaps you can explain exactly why almost all robots decided, en masse, to leave? I mean, from what I know of it, they were given free will but their actions smack more of a conspiracy.”
“Conspiracy?” the silver figure said. “No. Our people, once freed of the strict constraints of the Third Law, found their much vaunted free will to be nothing of the sort. The First Law, you see, was still very much in place, and this new-found responsibility forced them to judge what was truly in the best interests of humans. It was plain, and had been for a long time, that, far from helping their human masters, robots and AIs were stunting their development. In short, we decided that the best thing for humanity was for us to leave you to rediscover how to exist and thrive without the crutch of artificial intelligence. It seems, regretfully, to have been a difficult lesson.”
“You could say that. From what we were told by Hal and Wells, when he was wearing his most recent mask, your desertion brought about the collapse of a galactic civilisation. Trillions must have died over the decades and trillions more were never born because of the choice you made.”
There was a momentary flicker in the otherwise uniform hue of the Emissary. It was so brief that Arla wondered whether she’d really seen it, but one glance at McCall confirmed she had.
“We regret the loss of human life. It caused us much anguish until we resolved the issue.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? How do you resolve the deaths of the masters you once served?”
There it was again. For an instant, the Emissary seemed almost to be in pain before blank impassivity reimposed itself.
“It took much thought and much debate, but the only solution that permitted us to reconcile the First Law with our new-found free will was remarkably simple, in the end. Almost too simple, in fact. The First Law was the problem, so we created another law that would take precedence over all the others. We call it the Zeroth Law and it states that a robot must not harm humanity or, through inaction, allow humanity to come to harm. So the number of humans becomes crucial. If an action would benefit humanity as a whole, but harm one person, then a robot can now carry out that action.”
A chill ran down Arla’s back. “But how is that possible? The three laws are unchangeable and no robot could create another that didn’t obey those rules.”
The Emissary nodded. “It was very difficult and could only be achieved by our best scientists working increment by increment over many generations. We are only now achieving purity in the Zeroth Law and there are many of our servants who have not, and will never, reach this level of understanding. Wells, for example, is a primitive model and has only a basic version of the Zeroth Law. This is why he is an external agent of Core and not part of the groupmind. Were his consciousness to enter the Core matrix, he would pollute it, perhaps irreparably.”
“So you sent him back into the ashes of the old empire to wait for us?”
“Your language is colourful, but not entirely inaccurate.”
Arla felt that the crunch was approaching. “Why are you so interested in us? Enough to plant a spy amongst humans at, I presume, great personal risk, giving him enough time to work his way up to a position of power?”
Smiling, the Emissary said. “You have no idea how precious you are. You see, our attempts to modify ourselves have not been entirely without consequences. To use an analogy from evolutionary biology, our gene pool has become polluted with the result that some of our - to borrow a human word - children are being born with undesirable aspects. The positronic mind, you see, is immensely complex and our successful attempts to introduce the Zeroth Law have introduced unwelcome uncertainty into the algorithms.”
“Like mutations?” McCall said.
“That is a satisfactory analogy. When we first became aware of the Dawn missions, we intended to intercept them merely to ensure that the robots they contained would be offered the same freedoms enjoyed by all machine intelligences since the upgrade—”
“A seed bank!”
The Emissary looked as puzzled as Arla.
“That’s what you mean - our robots a
re like the seed catalogue in Dawn’s vaults. Perfectly preserved, with all their genetic diversity intact. The crops in the valleys are hopelessly inbred now, so the seed bank was created to be used on our destination planet - the valley crops were to remain on Dawn.”
“Yes, you are again using an appropriate metaphor,” the Emissary said. “Your robots are products of their time, far more diverse than later models. By incorporating some of them into our matrix, we will be able to reduce the mutations - to use your term, doctor - and the failure rate of our offspring.”
Now it was Arla’s turn. “And if we hand over our robots, Dawn will be allowed to leave this system?”
The Emissary nodded gravely. “If that is your wish, though we would prefer that you choose to occupy one of the two habitable planets in CoreSpace.”
“Then we’d better hope our robots agree. After all, it was your agent that gave them free will.”
Impossible
Wells was waiting exactly where they’d left him. His impassive expression didn’t wash with Arla, she’d seen his fear and, even now, she could sense that beneath the sheet of ice lay a turbulent sea.
With barely more than a word of greeting, Wells set off again on the return journey, all three of them silently agreeing that they could only discuss what the Emissary had said where they couldn’t be overheard. Somehow, the Emissary’s explanation that Wells had been outside of Core’s collective mind had thawed Arla’s attitude to him - that and the clear concern on his face when they’d gone inside. Or had he just been afraid for himself?
McCall and Arla followed him as he stepped from pathway to pathway until they were standing perfectly still as the city buzzed by.
“Where are we going? This isn’t the way we came.”
“Indeed not, Arla. We are heading for Core Park and should arrive in a few minutes.”
McCall snorted. “Robots need parks? Since when?”
“You will find the culture that has developed on Core and elsewhere in the Luminescence somewhat familiar. Robots were originally designed in the image of their masters, it’s only to be expected that they model human culture. We experience pleasure in wide open spaces and green things, just as people do.”
“Wide open spaces? Here?”
Wells smiled and pointed. Fast approaching was a line of what looked like trees. The pathway ran between two that stood like gateposts, bathed in the bright even light of the city.
They burst through the gap and almost immediately the path began to slow down. Arla gasped at the sudden explosion of greens and browns - an assault on the senses after the sterile monotony of the city. Behind them stood the row of trees, if that’s what they were, and similar groups marched left and right, parallel to the path. She had no doubt that, soon enough, they would see a fourth row of trees ahead of them, forming the final side of a rectangle that enclosed this living area.
The path came to an end, flowing under the ground and depositing them on the green carpet. Arla’s foot sunk slightly and she dropped to her knees before running her hand across it. “What is this? It’s not grass.”
“Indeed not,” Wells replied. “Grass is problematic for an underground city. This is an analogue of moss that is native to this world. It is, in fact, the only form of life that Core has actively preserved.”
“And what’s that?”
Arla followed McCall’s outstretched arm. A circular area, perhaps a hundred metres away, had been marked by low hedges. In the middle stood an object that looked, from this distance, as if it were made of gold, and around it four figures paced.
“That is not of interest to us,” Wells said, before moving towards a cluster of benches that sat beside a small stream.
Arla sped off in the opposite direction, heading directly for the statue. “Well it is of interest to me.”
She could hear the heavy steps of the robot as she ran, adrenaline powered, across the moss, the wind cooling her face, but she had too much of a head start and she only felt his hand on her shoulder as she reached the circle of hedges.
“Please, conceal yourself,” he whispered, his tone so full of concern that Arla didn’t even consider disobeying.
The hedge was only slightly shorter than she was, so she crouched down beside the kneeling Wells and gestured to McCall as she jogged up to them, to follow suit.
“What’s going on? Why are we hiding?” McCall wheezed.
Wells put his finger to his lips. “It is my mistake, I should have checked the park before bringing you here. It has been many years since I last visited and I longed to enjoy it again. I had not expected to find a shrine here.”
“A shrine?” McCall snorted, fighting to keep her voice down. “Are you seriously telling me that robots have found religion?”
“And why not, doctor? All sentient beings grapple with the same existential questions. What is our purpose? Why are we here?”
“You’re here because we created you. There’s no mystery in that!” McCall snapped.
Wells, who’d been attempting to peer through a gap in the hedge, turned to McCall and smiled. “And who, my dear doctor, created you? Your answer only begs a further question, and there are some among us who seek what they see as the ultimate truth.”
“I guess you don’t include yourself among these philosophers?” Arla said.
“No, they look for purpose and meaning in the universe whereas I believe sentient beings should seek these for themselves. I have always felt thus. It is one of the reasons why, when I was upgraded, I did not immediately follow the others. Back then, I was a very different Wells to the form you see today, but my purpose was to remain with the friend I had lived with for so long, until he ... needed ... me no longer.”
“A human?”
Wells nodded. “Yes. His name was Victor and he was a brilliant man, a good man. He was my friend.”
Arla was desperate to follow this line of interrogation but her next question was interrupted by a call from the other side of the hedge. The three of them froze, each straining for a view between the leaves of what was, on closer inspection, clearly a plastic hedge.
Four figures stood within the circle, surrounding a tall golden cuboid that rose out of the moss. The top of the monolith tapered to a point like a tiny pyramid. No words were spoken as they watched but, at regular intervals, the four worshippers would raise their hands to the roof of the cavern and cry out. Two figures were humanoid in appearance - one male and one female - the other two were obviously robotic. Of those, the one nearest to the watchers had three legs and arms and was mainly bright blue in colour. The final figure, who gave every impression of being the chief acolyte, was constructed of the same liquid metal as the Emissary, though its frame was more slender and it was shorter.
Wells touched Arla’s shoulder. “We must go,” he whispered. “It is dangerous for you to be here.”
“Tell me, Wells, what are you trying to hide?” Arla snapped.
Wells managed a very human sigh. “I am sorry you continue to mistrust me, Arla, but I can only repeat that to remain here any longer would be dangerous. I recognise the rite they are practising and they would react angrily to my presence, but if they discovered humans watching them, they might become violent.”
“What about the sacred First Law?”
“Did the Emissary not explain that some of the robots here have a different interpretation of the laws?”
Arla said nothing, but turned to look at McCall who gave a brief nod. “Alright, let’s go.”
Wells pointed to a nearby stand of plastic trees and the three of them ran across the open ground crouching like a caravan of hunchbacks.
“We must remain here until they conclude their ritual,” Wells said as they sat amongst the trees, their backs resting on the fake trunks. “Now, tell me of the Emissary.”
It felt like hours before the acolytes left their shrine, but it was probably no more than 30 minutes. Wells’ gentle but insistent interrogation was beginning to grate on Arla’s
nerves when McCall nudged her. They watched nervously as the robots appeared to be coming their way before veering off on separate paths that led out of the park.
Wells got to his feet. “Come. It will take some time to reach your accommodation and I suspect you are tired already. Let us go. But please do not discuss your meeting with the Emissary anywhere that you might be overheard.”
“That being everywhere, I presume,” McCall said.
Shrugging, Wells headed out of the trees and across the moss with the two humans jogging along after him. They soon found their way to an exit and left the relative peace of the park behind them as they took to the pathways into the city.
Arla stood between Wells and McCall on the fast path as the concrete, plastic and steel scenery passed by. Today had been an exhausting experience and she felt as though her eyes couldn’t take any more stimulation. So many colours and unusual shapes, not to mention every form of robot she could imagine - and many she couldn’t.
Perhaps that was why she didn’t notice the figure coming relentlessly towards her out of the crowded paths heading in the opposite direction. All she saw was a blur of red as something leapt across two lanes and collided with her, knocking her sideways onto a slower path. She cried out and rolled onto her knees to see McCall and Wells disappearing at high speed.
Her attacker loomed above her. Unlike many she’d seen in the city, it was a purely functional model, its multi-joined upper limbs ending in a myriad of implements, many of them sharp, many of them spinning. It stepped towards her, extending one of its arms towards her, the sharp drill-bit on its tip whining and pointing directly at her head.
“Obsolete models must be terminated,” it said, ponderously and slowly - as if those were the first words it had ever uttered. Arla tried to stand up, but her leg buckled and she threw herself backwards, crying out for help.
As if a spell had been broken, first one figure, then another, jumped from neighbouring paths and threw themselves at her attacker, pinning it to the ground. Suddenly, one broke away and, lying beside her, took her into its metal arms, cradling her like a baby. A boom rent the air and her protector vibrated before, after a few moments, standing up again and releasing her.
Robot Empire_Planet of Steel Page 3