Asimov’s Future History Volume 19

by Isaac Asimov

  55.

  “WELL, THEN,” SAID Trevize wearily, “onward!” He resumed his walk toward the ship at a calm pace and the others followed.

  Pelorat said, rather breathlessly, “What do you intend to do?”

  “If they’re robots, they’ve got to obey orders.”

  The robots were awaiting them, and Trevize watched them narrowly as they came closer.

  Yes, they must be robots. Their faces, which looked as though they were made of skin underlain with flesh, were curiously expressionless. They were dressed in uniforms that exposed no square centimeter of skin outside the face. Even the hands were covered by thin, opaque gloves.

  Trevize gestured casually, in a fashion that was unquestionably a brusque request that they step aside.

  The robots did not move.

  In a low voice, Trevize said to Pelorat, “put it into words, Janov. Be firm.”

  Pelorat cleared his throat and, putting an unaccustomed baritone into his voice, spoke slowly, gesturing them aside much as Trevize had done. At that, one of the robots, who was perhaps a shade taller than the rest, said something in a cold and incisive voice.

  Pelorat turned to Trevize. “I think he said we were Outworlders.”

  “Tell him we are human beings and must be obeyed.”

  The robot spoke then, in peculiar but understandable Galactic. “I understand you, Outworlder. I speak Galactic. We are Guardian Robots.”

  “Then you have heard me say that we are human beings and that you must therefore obey us.”

  “We are programmed to obey Rulers only, Outworlder. You are not Rulers and not Solarian. Ruler Bander has not responded to the normal moment of Contact and we have come to investigate at close quarters. It is our duty to do so. We find a spaceship not of Solarian manufacture, several Outworlders present, and all Bander robots inactivated. Where is Ruler Bander?”

  Trevize shook his head and said slowly and distinctly, “We know nothing of what you say. Our ship’s computer is not working well. We found ourselves near this strange planet against our intentions. We landed to find our location. We found all robots inactivated. We know nothing of what might have happened.”

  “That is not a credible account. If all robots on the estate are inactivated and all power is off, Ruler Bander must be dead. It is not logical to suppose that by coincidence it died just as you landed. There must be some sort of causal connection.”

  Trevize said, with no set purpose but to confuse the issue and to indicate his own foreigner’s lack of understanding and, therefore, his innocence, “But the power is not off. You and the others are active.”

  The robot said, “We are Guardian Robots. We do not belong to any Ruler. We belong to all the world. We are not Ruler-controlled but are nuclear-powered. I ask again, where is Ruler Bander?”

  Trevize looked about him. Pelorat appeared anxious; Bliss was tight-lipped but calm. Fallom was trembling, but Bliss’s hand touched the child’s shoulder and it stiffened somewhat and lost facial expression. (Was Bliss sedating it?)

  The robot said, “Once again, and for the last time, where is Ruler Bander?”

  “I do not know,” said Trevize grimly.

  The robot nodded and two of his companions left quickly. The robot said, “My fellow Guardians will search the mansion. Meanwhile, you will be held for questioning. Hand me those objects you wear at your side.”

  Trevize took a step backward. “They are harmless.”

  “Do not move again. I do not question their nature, whether harmful or harmless. I ask for them.”

  “No.”

  The robot took a quick step forward, and his arm flashed out too quickly for Trevize to realize what was happening. The robot’s hand was on his shoulder; the grip tightened and pushed downward. Trevize went to his knees.

  The robot said, “Those objects.” It held out its other hand.

  “No,” gasped Trevize.

  Bliss lunged forward, pulled the blaster out of its holster before Trevize, clamped in the robot’s grip, could do anything to prevent her, and held it out toward the robot. “Here, Guardian,” she said, “and if you’ll give me a moment-here’s the other. Now release my companion.”

  The robot, holding both weapons, stepped back, and Trevize rose slowly to his feet, rubbing his left shoulder vigorously, face wincing with pain.

  (Fallom whimpered softly, and Pelorat picked it up in distraction, and held it tightly.)

  Bliss said to Trevize, in a furious whisper, “Why are you fighting him? He can kill you with two fingers.”

  Trevize groaned and said, between gritted teeth, “Why don’t you handle him.

  “I’m trying to. It takes time. His mind is tight, intensely programmed, and leaves no handle. I must study it. You play for time.”

  “Don’t study his mind. Just destroy it,” said Trevize, almost soundlessly.

  Bliss looked quickly toward the robot. It was studying the weapons intently, while the one other robot that still remained with it watched the Outworlders. Neither seemed interested in the whispering that was going on between Trevize and Bliss.

  Bliss said, “No. No destruction. We killed one dog and hurt another on the first world. You know what happened on this world.” (Another quick glance at the Guardian Robots.) “Gaia does not needlessly butcher life or intelligence. I need time to work it out peacefully.”

  She stepped back and stared at the robot fixedly.

  The robot said, “These are weapons.”

  “No,” said Trevize.

  “Yes,” said Bliss, “but they are no longer useful. They are drained of energy.”

  “Is that indeed so? Why should you carry weapons that are drained of energy? Perhaps they are not drained.” The robot held one of the weapons in its fist and placed its thumb accurately. “Is this the way it is activated?”

  “Yes,” said Bliss; “if you tighten the pressure, it would be activated, if it contained energy-but it does not.”

  “Is that certain?” The robot pointed the weapon at Trevize. “Do you still say that if I activate it now, it will not work?”

  “It will not work,” said Bliss.

  Trevize was frozen in place and unable to articulate. He had tested the blaster after Bander had drained it and it was totally dead, but the robot was holding the neuronic whip. Trevize had not tested that.

  If the whip contained even a small residue of energy, there would be enough for a stimulation of the pain nerves, and what Trevize would feel would make the grip of the robot’s hand seem to have been a pat of affection.

  When he had been at the Naval Academy, Trevize had been forced to take a mild neuronic whipblow, as all cadets had had to. That was just to know what it was like. Trevize felt no need to know anything more.

  The robot activated the weapon and, for a moment, Trevize stiffened painfully-and then slowly relaxed. The whip, too, was thoroughly drained.

  The robot stared at Trevize and then tossed both weapons to one side. “How do these come to be drained of energy?” it demanded. “If they are of no use, why do you carry them?”

  Trevize said, “I am accustomed to the weight and carry them even when drained.”

  The robot said, “That does not make sense. You are all under custody. You will be held for further questioning, and, if the Rulers so decide, you will then be inactivated.-How does one open this ship? We must search it.”

  “It will do you no good,” said Trevize. “You won’t understand it.”

  “If not I, the Rulers will understand.”

  “They will not understand, either.”

  “Then you will explain so that they will understand.”

  “I will not.”

  “Then you will be inactivated.”

  “My inactivation will give you no explanation, and I think I will be inactivated even if I explain.”

  Bliss muttered, “Keep it up. I’m beginning to unravel the workings of its brain.”

  The robot ignored Bliss. (Did she see to that? t
hought Trevize, and hoped savagely that she had.)

  Keeping its attention firmly on Trevize, the robot said, “If you make difficulties, then we will partially inactivate you. We will damage you and you will then tell us what we want to know.”

  Suddenly, Pelorat called out in a half-strangled cry. “Wait, you cannot do this.-Guardian, you cannot do this.”

  “I am under detailed instructions,” said the robot quietly. “I can do this. Of course, I shall do as little damage as is consistent with obtaining information.”

  “But you cannot. Not at all. I am an Outworlder, and so are these two companions of mine. But this child,” and Pelorat looked at Fallom, whom he was still carrying, “is a Solarian. It will tell you what to do and you must obey it.”

  Fallom looked at Pelorat with eyes that were open, but seemed empty.

  Bliss shook her head, sharply, but Pelorat looked at her without any sign of understanding.

  The robot’s eyes rested briefly on Fallom. It said, “The child is of no importance. It does not have transducer-lobes.”

  “It does not yet have fully developed transducer-lobes,” said Pelorat, panting, “but it will have them in time. It is a Solarian child.”

  “It is a child, but without fully developed transducer-lobes it is not a Solarian. I am not compelled to follow its orders or to keep it from harm.”

  “But it is the offspring of Ruler Bander.”

  “Is it? How do you come to know that?”

  Pelorat stuttered, as he sometimes did when overearnest. “Wh-what other child would be on this estate?”

  “How do you know there aren’t a dozen?”

  “Have you seen any others?”

  “It is I who will ask the questions.”

  At this moment, the robot’s attention shifted as the second robot touched its arm. The two robots who had been sent to the mansion were returning at a rapid run that, nevertheless, had a certain irregularity to it.

  There was silence till they arrived and then one of them spoke in the Solarian language-at which all four of the robots seemed to lose their elasticity. For a moment, they appeared to wither, almost to deflate.

  Pelorat said, “They’ve found Bander,” before Trevize could wave him silent.

  The robot turned slowly and said, in a voice that slurred the syllables, “Ruler Bander is dead. By the remark you have just made, you show us you were aware of the fact. How did that come to be?”

  “How can I know?” said Trevize defiantly.

  “You knew it was dead. You knew it was there to be found. How could you know that, unless you had been there-unless it was you that had ended the life?” The robot’s enunciation was already improving. It had endured and was absorbing the shock.

  Then Trevize said, “How could we have killed Bander? With its transducer-lobes it could have destroyed us in a moment.”

  “How do you know what, or what not, transducer-lobes could do?”

  “You mentioned the transducer-lobes just now.”

  “I did no more than mention them. I did not describe their properties or abilities.”

  “The knowledge came to us in a dream.”

  “That is not a credible answer.”

  Trevize said, “To suppose that we have caused the death of Bander is not credible, either.”

  Pelorat added, “And in any case, if Ruler Bander is dead, then Ruler Fallom now controls this estate. Here the Ruler is, and it is it whom you must obey.”

  “I have already explained,” said the robot, “that an offspring with undeveloped transducer-lobes is not a Solarian. It cannot be a Successor, therefore, Another Successor, of the appropriate age, will be flown in as soon as we report this sad news.”

  “What of Ruler Fallom?”

  “There is no Ruler Fallom. There is only a child and we have an excess of children. It will be destroyed.”

  Bliss said forcefully, “You dare not. It is a child!”

  “It is not I,” said the robot, “who will necessarily do the act and it is certainly not I who will make the decision. That is for the consensus of the Rulers. In times of child-excess, however, I know well what the decision will in.”

  “No. I say no.”

  “It will be painless.-But another ship is coming. It is important that we go into what was the Bander mansion and set up a holovision Council that will supply a Successor and decide on what to do with you.-Give me the child.”

  Bliss snatched the semicomatose figure of Fallom from Pelorat. Holding it tightly and trying to balance its weight on her shoulder, she said, “Do not touch this child.”

  Once again, the robot’s arm shot out swiftly and it stepped forward, reaching for Fallom. Bliss moved quickly to one side, beginning her motion well before the robot had begun its own. The robot continued to move forward, however, as though Bliss were still standing before it. Curving stiffly downward, with the forward tips of its feet as the pivot, it went down on its face. The other three stood motionless, eyes unfocused.

  Bliss was sobbing, partly with rage. “I almost had the proper method of control, and it wouldn’t give me the time. I had no choice but to strike and now all four are inactivated.-Let’s get on the ship before the other ship lands. I am too ill to face additional robots, now.”

  Part V: Melpomenia

  13. Away from Solaria

  56.

  THE LEAVING WAS a blur. Trevize had gathered up his futile weapons, had opened the airlock, and they had tumbled in. Trevize didn’t notice until they were off the surface that Fallom had been brought in as well.

  They probably would not have made it in time if the Solarian use of airflight had not been so comparatively unsophisticated. It took the approaching Solarian vessel an unconscionable time to descend and land. On the other hand, it took virtually no time for the computer of the Far Star to take the gravitic ship vertically upward.

  And although the cut-off of the gravitational interaction and, therefore, of inertia wiped out the otherwise unbearable effects of acceleration that would have accompanied so speedy a takeoff, it did not wipe out the effects of air resistance. The outer hull temperature rose at a distinctly more rapid rate than navy regulations (or ship specifications, for that matter) would have considered suitable.

  As they rose, they could see the second Solarian ship land and several more approaching. Trevize wondered how many robots Bliss could have handled, and decided they would have been overwhelmed if they had remained on the surface fifteen minutes longer.

  Once out in space (or space enough, with only tenuous wisps of the planetary exosphere around them), Trevize made for the nightside of the planet. It was a hop away, since they had left the surface as sunset was approaching. In the dark, the Far Star would have a chance to cool more rapidly, and there the ship could continue to recede from the surface in a slow spiral.

  Pelorat came out of the room he shared with Bliss. He said, “The child is sleeping normally now. We’ve showed it how to use the toilet and it had no trouble understanding.”

  “That’s not surprising. It must have had similar facilities in the mansion.”

  “I didn’t see any there and I was looking,” said Pelorat feelingly. “We didn’t get back on the ship a moment too soon for me.”

  “Or any of us. But why did we bring that child on board?”

  Pelorat shrugged apologetically. “Bliss wouldn’t let go. It was like saving a life in return for the one she took. She can’t bear-”

  “I know,” said Trevize.

  Pelorat said, “It’s a very oddly shaped child.”

  “Being hermaphroditic, it would have to be,” said Trevize.

  “It has testicles, you know.”

  “It could scarcely do without them.”

  “And what I can only describe as a very small vagina.”

  Trevize made a face. “Disgusting.”

  “Not really, Golan,” said Pelorat, protesting. “It’s adapted to its needs. It only delivers a fertilized egg-cell, or a very tiny e
mbryo, which is then developed under laboratory conditions, tended, I dare say, by robots.”

  “And what happens if their robot-system breaks down? If that happens, they would no longer be able to produce viable young.”

  “Any world would be in serious trouble if its social structure broke down completely.”

  “Not that I would weep uncontrollably over the Solarians.”

  “Well,” said Pelorat, “I admit it doesn’t seem a very attractive world-to us, I mean. But that’s only the people and the social structure, which are not our type at all, dear chap. But subtract the people and the robots, and you have a world which otherwise-”

  “Might fall apart as Aurora is beginning to do,” said Trevize. “How’s Bliss, Janov?”

  “Worn out, I’m afraid. She’s sleeping now. She had a very bad time, Golan.”

  “I didn’t exactly enjoy myself either.”

  Trevize closed his eyes, and decided he could use some sleep himself and would indulge in that relief as soon as he was reasonably certain the Solarians had no space capability-and so far the computer had reported nothing of artifactitious nature in space.

  He thought bitterly of the two Spacer planets they had visited-hostile wild dogs on one-hostile hermaphroditic loners on the other-and in neither place the tiniest hint as to the location of Earth. All they had to show for the double visit was Fallom.

  He opened his eyes. Pelorat was still sitting in place at the other side of the computer, watching him solemnly.

  Trevize said, with sudden conviction, “We should have left that Solarian child behind.”

  Pelorat said, “The poor thing. They would have killed it.”

  “Even so,” said Trevize, “it belonged there. It’s part of that society. Being put to death because of being superfluous is the sort of thing it’s born to.”

  “Oh, my dear fellow, that’s a hardhearted way to look at it.”

  “It’s a rational way. We don’t know how to care for it, and it may suffer more lingeringly with us and die anyway. What does it eat?”

  “Whatever we do, I suppose, old man. Actually, the problem is what do we eat? How much do we have in the way of supplies?”