by Mike Mcquay
“Witness!” Arion called, as Katherine hurried to the place and climbed through the hole.
The naked body lay, face down, in the middle of the floor. Katherine walked boldly toward it, then stopped, a hand going to her chest. She had been so intent upon fulfilling her mission that she had failed to consider that it was death-real death-she’d be dealing with. It horrified her. She began shaking, her heart rate increasing.
“Is something wrong?” Eve asked from the cut-out.
“N-no,” she replied, her eyes glued to the body, unable either to move forward or pull back.
“If there’s a problem,” she heard Arion say, “come out now. Don’t jeopardize yourself.”
Come on, old girl. Get yourself together.“I’m fine,” she said. You’ve got to do this. Don’t stop now.
She took a deep breath, then another, and continued her walk to the body. Bending, she touched it gingerly. The surface was cool, the muscles tight.
“Is everything all right?” Arion asked.
“Yes,” she said. Won’t they leave me alone?
There was no sign of decomposition, and she realized that it was because the room had been airless. At least that was something.
She examined the body from the back, her heart rate still up, her breath coming fast. Looking at the foot, she could see a small cut on the left instep and realized immediately what had caused it. Something stupid. Something she had done herself before. A misstep, perhaps a broken fall, and the bare feet came together, a too-long toenail on the other foot scraping the instep. It was nothing. There was some dried blood on the side and bottom of the foot, but that was it. She was going to have to roll the body over.
She moved to the side of the body, reaching out to try and turn it over, finding her hands shaking wildly. Will this be me soon-fifty kilos of dead meat? She tried to push the body onto its back, but there was no strength in her arms.
“Could you help me with this?” she called over her shoulder. Arion came through the cut-out to bend down beside her. She looked up at the nearly human-looking machine. “I want to roll it over.”
“Surely,” Arion said, reaching out with his pincers to push gently against the side of the body. It rolled over easily, dead eyes staring straight at Katherine.
She heard herself screaming from far away as the shock of recognition hit her. It was Derec! Derec!
The room began spinning as she felt it in her stomach and in her head. Then she felt the floor reach up and pull her down; everything else was lost in the numbing bliss of unconsciousness.
“Don’t try to leave without me to lead you!” Avernus called to Derec as the boy waded into the churning sea of robots. “You could become hopelessly lost in these tunnels.”
“Don’t worry!” Derec called back, thinking more about the danger of the main chamber than the labyrinthine caves.
He moved slowly through the throng, walking toward Rydberg. It was damp, musty in there, plus a bit claustrophobic, but Derec was so fascinated by the spectacle of the eleventh-hour plans that he never allowed his mind to dwell on the all-too-human problems of the location.
Rydberg saw him approaching, and turned to stare as Derec closed on him. He climbed atop the cart and joined the supervisor.
“What are you doing here?” Rydberg asked, the words crackling through the speaker atop his dome. “It is too dangerous underground for you.”
“I talked Avernus into bringing me down and protecting me,” Derec replied. “What’s going on here?”
“We’re trying to tunnel up to the reservoir,” Rydberg said. “We are trying to work out a way to drain off some of the reservoir into the deserted tunnels below to keep it from flooding.”
Derec felt an electric charge run through him. “That’s wonderful!” he yelled. “You’ve made a third-level connection-a creative leap!”
“It was only logical. Since the water was going to come into the mines anyway, it only made sense that we should try to direct it to parts of the mines that would cause the least amount of damage. Unfortunately, our estimates show such a move could only hold off the inevitable for a day or two longer. It may all be in vain.”
“Why are you digging by hand?” Derec asked. “Where are the machines?”
“They are tied up in the mining process,” Rydberg said. “The current rate of city-building must take precedence over all other activities.” The robot turned his dome to watch the excavations.
Derec put his hands on the robot’s arm. “But the city-building is what’s killing you!”
“It must be done.”
“Why?”
“I cannot answer that.”
Derec looked all around him, at the frantic rush of momentum, at a civilization trying to survive. No, they weren’t human, but it didn’t mean their lives weren’t worthwhile. What was the gauge? There was intelligence, and a concerted effort toward perfection of spirit. There was more worth, more human value here in the mines than in anything he had seen in his brief glimpse of humanity. And then it struck him, the reason for all of this and the reason for the state of emergency and security.
“It’s defensive, isn’t it?” he said. “The city-building is a way for the city to defend itself against alien invasion?”
Rydberg just stared at him.
He grabbed the robot’s arm again, tighter. “That is it, isn’t it?”
“I cannot answer that question.”
“Then tell me I am wrong!”
“I cannot answer that question.”
“I knew it,” he said, convinced now. “And if it coincided with David’s appearance in the city, then it is somehow tied to him. For once, Katherine’s in the right place.
“This whole thing is a central core program,” Derec said, “and obviously the program is in error. There must be some way you can circumvent it.”
“Robots do not make programs, Derec,” Rydberg said.
“Then let me into it!”
“I cannot,” Rydberg replied, then added softly. “I’m sorry.”
Derec just stared at him, wanting to argue him into compliance, and fearing that the argument would simply present the robot with a contradiction so vast it would freeze his mental facilities and lock him up beyond hope. He didn’t know where to go from here. He’d had a tantalizing glimpse of the problem, yet, like a holographic image, it still eluded his grasp.
“You still have not told me why you came down into the mines,” Rydberg said. “Humans have such a poor sense of personal danger that I fail to see how your species has survived to this point. If you cannot present me a compelling reason for your presence, I fear I must send you away now.”
“If humans have a poor sense of personal danger,” Derec said, angry at Robot City’s inability even to try to save itself, “then it has been justly inherited in your programming. I’ve come down to visit 1-1 on a matter not of your concern. Would you please point him out to me?”
“Our first citizen?” Rydberg said, and Derec could tell the robot wanted to say more. Instead, he turned up his volume. “WILL ROBOT 1-1 PLEASE COME FORWARD.”
Within a minute, a small, rather innocuous utility robot with large, powerful looking pincer grips moved up to the cart. “I am here, Supervisor Rydberg,” the robot said.
“Friend Derec wishes to speak with you on a personal matter,” the supervisor said. “Do as he asks, but do not take an excessive amount of time.”
Derec jumped off the cart. “I hear you were the first robot awakened on this planet,” he said.
“That is correct,” the robot said.
“Come with me,” Derec said. “Let’s get out of the confusion.”
They moved through the rapidly widening chamber to the place where Avernus had first dropped him. “I am searching through the origins of Robot City,” Derec said, “and that search has led me to you. You were the first.”
“Yes. Logical. I was the first.”
“I want you to tell me exactly what your first visual inpu
t was and what followed subsequently.”
“My first visual input was of a human arm connecting my power supply,” the robot said. “Then the human turned and walked away from me.”
“Did you see the human face?”
“No.”
“What happened then?”
“The human walked a distance from me, then disappeared behind some machinery meant to help in our early mining. I was to wait for one hour, then turn on the other inoperative robots in the area. Then we were to begin work, which we did.”
“Of what did that original work consist?”
“There were fifty utility, plus Supervisor Avernus. Twenty-five of us built the Compass Tower from materials left for us, while Supervisor Avernus and the other twenty-five began the design and construction of the underground facilities and commenced the mining operations.”
Derec was puzzled. “Avernus didn’t supervise the construction of the Compass Tower?”
“No. It was meant as a separate entity from the rest of the city. It was fully planned, fully materialized. There was no need for Supervisor Avernus to take an interest in it.”
Derec heard an engine noise and saw lights, far in the tunnel distance, gradually closing on his position. “What do you mean when you say it was ‘meant as a separate entity?’ ” Derec asked.
“The Compass Tower is unique in several respects, Friend Derec,” 1-1 said. “It is not part of the overall city plan in any respect; it has the off limits homing platform atop it; and it contains a fully furnished, human administration office.”
“What!” Derec said loudly, as he watched the mine tram rushing closer toward him in the tunnel. “An office for whom?”
“I do not know. Perhaps the person who awakened me.”
“You’ve never spoken of this with the supervisors?”
“No one has ever inquired before now.”
“Why did you call it the administration office?”
“The construction plans are locked within my data banks,” 1-1 answered. “That is what it was called on the plans.”
The tram car screeched to a halt right beside Darren, the huge bulk of Avernus stuffed in its front seat. “We must go,” the supervisor said.
“Just a minute,” Derec said. “Why did you call it a homing platform?”
“We must go now,” Avernus said.
“It was designed as a landing point of some kind,” 1-1 said. “Nothing is ever allowed on its surface, or within twenty meters of its airspace.”
Avernus took hold of Derec’s arm and gently, but firmly, turned him face to face. “We must go,” Avernus said. “Something has happened to Friend Katherine.”
Derec reeled as if he’d been hit. “What? What happened? Is she all right?”
“She is unconscious,” Avernus said. “Beyond that, we do not know.”
Chapter 8. Identity Crisis
Derec hurried into the apartment to buzzing activity. Arion was there, and Euler, plus Eve and several utility robots. There was also a rather frail-looking machine with multiple appendages that Derec surmised to be a med-bot.
The living room seemed different, much squatter, but he really wasn’t paying attention.
“Friend Derec… Euler began, hurrying to intercept Derec as he crossed the living room floor.
“Where is she?” he asked, still moving.
“The bedroom,” Euler said. “She has regained consciousness and is resting. I do not think you should try and see her just yet.”
“Nonsense,” Derec said, hurrying past him. “I’ve got to see her.”
“But you don’t underst… ”
“Later,” Derec said, moving down the hallway. There were now two bedroom doors. He opened one to an empty room, then turned to the other, pushing the stud. It slid open. Katherine was sitting up in bed, her face drained of all color, her eyes red.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Her eyes focused on him, then grew wide in horror.
“Noooo!” she screamed, hands going to her straining face.
Derec ran to her and took her by the shoulders. She kept screaming, loudly, hysterically, her body vibrating madly on the bed.
“You’re dead!” she yelled. “Dead! Dead!”
“No!” he yelled. “I’m here. It’s all right. It’s all… ”
Euler was pulling him away from her, robots filling the room. “What are you doing?” he yelled. “Let go, I… ”
“You must leave now,” Euler said, lifting him bodily in the air and carrying him, Katherine’s screams still filling the apartment.
“Katherine!” he called to her as Euler carried him out the door. “Katherine!”
Euler carried him all the way to the living room, then simply held him there, the med-bot slipping into her bedroom and sliding the door closed, muffling the screams somewhat.
“Put me down!” Derec yelled. “Would you put me down?”
“You must not go in there,” Euler said. “It is dangerous for Katherine if you go in there.”
He felt the anger draining out of him. “What’s going on?” he asked sheepishly. “What’s happened to her?”
“She’s suffered some sort of emotional trauma,” the supervisor said. “May I put you down?”
“Believe me,” Derec said, “at this point, I don’t want to go back in.”
Euler set him gently on the floor. Derec rubbed his arms to get the circulation back into them.
“I am sorry if I caused you any discomfort,” Euler said. “Truly.”
“It’s all right,” Derec replied. “Tell me what happened.”
Thunder crashed loudly outside, both Derec and Euler turning to look at the building thunderheads through the open patio door. They were in for another bad one. From the bedroom, the sounds of screaming had died to occasional whimpers.
“Katherine found the body of David,” Euler said, “and had a utility robot cut into the sealed room that contained it.” The robot swiveled its head to take in the rest of the room. “Perhaps it is better to have Arion witness the story. He was present for it.” He motioned for the human-like machine to join the discussion.
“Friend Derec,” Arion said as he moved up close. “I had no idea that seeing the body would have this kind of effect on Friend Katherine. I would never have allowed her to come close to it had I known.”
“I understand,” Derec said. “Just tell me what happened.”
“She was examining the deceased,” Arion said, “when she called me in to help her roll the body over. I, of course, complied. She screamed when she saw the face, then lapsed into a state of unconsciousness.”
“She’s been disconsolate ever since,” Euler said. “Most peculiar. She persisted in the belief that the dead man was you.”
“Why would she do that?” he asked, moving to sit at the table. Arion’s CRT was busily finding the cube roots of ten-digit numbers.
“I don’t know,” Euler said. “Perhaps because the body looked like yours.”
Derec sat up straight, staring hard. “You mean… just like me?”
The robots looked at one another. “Perfectly,” Arion said.
“Doesn’t that strike you as odd?” Derec said, dumbfounded, still not believing the information.
“No,” Euler said.
“I don’t understand,” Derec said. “When you first saw me, didn’t you take note of the similarity of our appearances?”
“Yes,” Euler said, “but it didn’t mean anything to us.”
“Why not?”
Arion spoke up. “Why should it? We’ve only seen three human beings. Robots certainly can look exactly alike, why not humans? We knew you and Katherine were different, but that didn’t mean that you and David couldn’t be the same. Besides, we knew that David was dead; so, consequently, we knew that you couldn’t be David. Simple.”
The med-bot came gliding down the hall, moving quickly up to Derec. “She’s calm now,” the robot said. “She’s lightly sedated with her own pi
tuitary endorphins, and wants to see you.”
Derec stood, uneasy after the last time. “It’ll be all right?” he asked the med-bot.
“I believe she understands the situation now,” the med-bot responded in a gentle, fatherly voice.
“I’d like to see her alone,” he told the others.
Euler nodded. “We’ll wait out here.”
He moved down the hall, unsure of his feelings. It had hurt him to see her in such pain, hurt him emotionally. She could get on his nerves so badly, yet seemed such an integral part of him.
He knocked lightly on her door, then opened it. She sat up in bed, her face still sad. She held her arms out to him. “Oh, Derec… ”
He hurried to the bed, sitting next to her, holding her. She began to sob gently into his shoulder. “I was so afraid,” she said. “I thought… thought… ”
“I know,” he said, stroking her hair. “Arion told me. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she said, then pulled away from him. “Oh, Derec. I know we’ve walls between us… but please believe me, I have no idea what this place is and what’s going on here.”
“I believe you,” he said, reaching up to wipe tears from her eyes. He smiled. “Don’t worry about that now. How are you doing?”
“Better,” she said. “The med-bot stuck me a couple of times, but it really helped. All I’ve got is a headache.”
Thunder rolled again outside. “Good,” he said. “It looks like we’re locked in for the night anyway. What do you say we send the robots away, get some dinner sent up, and compare notes. I’ve got a lot to tell you.”
“Me, too,” she said. “It sounds good.”
They had a vegetable soup for dinner that was the best thing Derec had eaten for quite some time. The rains pounded frenetically outside, but Derec didn’t worry so much since he figured the precautions taken by Euler and Rydberg would, at least, get them through the night. And the best he could do now was to live day to day. Even Arion’s entertainment was beginning to diversify. The CRT was exhibiting an animated game of tennis played by computer-generated stick figures on a slippery surface. It was actually quite amusing.
After the servo had cleared the dishes away and left, they made themselves comfortable on the couch and recounted the details of the day. Derec, for reasons he wasn’t quite sure of, left out the fact that there were no hyperwave transmission stations on the planet. Counting on Katherine’s experiences to help him, he listened alertly to her account of the discovery of the body.