It was not difficult for FR-7 to identify the colour patterns. They were present in his memory bank. That would indicate that the Metalix were once connected with the Arkonides or their ancestors.
"We’ve agreed to a truce," the sectarian signalled. He did not differ in build from the defenders of the spaceport but was quite different from the retreating attackers. So there must be three groups fighting each other, FR-7 concluded. The puzzle did not grow any the less thereby. "The truce cannot be lengthened beyond the time when the other armies arrive. We want to use the interval to convince ourselves, commander."
The robot who was addressed as ‘commander’ was on FR-7’s right.
He answered with the help of the screen: "Go ahead, convince yourselves. Do you think this primitively built robot is a god? Do you think he’s an organic being or even one of the returned lords and masters? He can barely understand our sound language but that can be explained. Reasonably and logically explained, not with belief and intuitions. Probably he was built by the crew of one of our lost ships and now he is returning. We’ll find out. But one thing is sure: he has nothing in common with the gods that caused you to fight each other. Your battle is lost, you may be certain of that."
The six observers looked at FR-7 who was careful not to betray by any movement the fact that he understood the symbol language. He was determined not to let this trump card out of his hands.
The video-screens started talking again.
"That’s no god. Did he come from the alien ship.
"Yes."
"The prophet foretold his appearance. Size and form fit the description. But he also said that the gods would come with him. We don’t see any gods."
"So he lied."
"We don’t know yet who else might be in the ship, commander. We are not convinced. May we go into the ship?"
"No, that’s impossible. Not because we’re afraid you’d find any gods there but because it would be against the law. Also against all reason. No one may go near an alien ship before its appearance is explained. You have interrupted our conversation with its representative. Return to your army and keep the truce."
The six Metalix looked at FR-7 once more with penetrating glances, then turned around and marched away. Their movements betrayed uncertainty and doubt.
The explorer robot’s brain was working feverishly. The given data, his banked memories and superior logic created a first picture of the present circumstances. With a 90% certainty, they must mean Homunk when they said prophet.
If that were the case, then Homunk had designated the crew of the EX-238 as gods. FR-7 was reminded of the human figure that the robots carried in front of the army. Under no circumstances could Homunk have driven the robots insane in so short a time. Conclusion: the robots were already insane when Homunk had appeared. He had simply made use of an existing situation. He had foretold the arrival of the EX-238. And when he promised that the EX-238 would contain gods, he must have meant the Terranians.
The connections were becoming ever more clear. The one group of robots denied the existence of gods—or humanoids—while the others were prepared to fight for their belief in gods.
FR-7 recalled the huge masses of robots sweeping toward the city. He recalled the rebellion in the camp of the defenders, their uncertainty before they caught sight of him.
He could figure clearly what would happen if Maj. Koster and 10 officers left the EX-238 and stepped down onto the spaceport. Their appearance alone would, at the moment, decide the state of affairs in this world to their advantage.
Nearly half of the robots on this planet believed in gods.
If the gods really came, everybody would know.
With that, he made his decision.
FR-7 made it a few hours too late.
* * * *
The army of the holy city had reached the edge of the factory city.
The robot brain that was stationed here had been taken by the believers through surprise attack and had been re-programmed. It kept functioning independently but now on the side of the religious fanatics.
Then two things happened almost simultaneously. On all screens of the relay stations and the robot brains there appeared an announcement that originated from the priest of the holy city. It said with shocking clarity that the prophet had been a false one. The analytic screen showed that the supposed emissary was not an organic being but a robot. Therefore a fraud. Unfortunately, the little companion of the ‘prophet’ was organic but he did not resemble the gods in the least.
The announcement came like a bolt of lightning.
Within seconds the whole war had become meaningless. The opposition would become so strong in the next few hours that a further forging ahead of the armies would have amounted to intentional self-destruction. If not…
And if the priest’s announcement was wrong!
Even while the appropriate inquiries were begun, the second incident took place. A detail of the believers had got the chance to look over the alien who had arrived in the spherical ship. They confirmed that it was a robot and therefore no god.
With that, the cause of the believing robots was lost. Their anger now turned from the ruling robot brains and their servants to the robot who was built deceptively like the vanished gods. He had not only lied to them and given them false hopes, he had gotten them into this war and thereby had put them in a fatal position. If the gods had really appeared, there would have been no opposition any more. This way, they’d lose all their following.
It was Homunk’s misfortune that at precisely this moment he materialized holding onto Pucky’s paw in the middle of the army of the believers. His sudden and inexplicable appearance generated some kind of superstitious awe in the robots but they were determined not to be duped.
Steel fists reached out and separated Homunk from Pucky, who understood the situation immediately, but who did not want to teleport to safety by himself. Besides which, there was sure to be a misunderstanding here.
Homunk was of the same opinion. There wasn’t any explanation for this sudden change in the behaviour of the Metalix but surely he would soon find out what the cause of it was. For a moment he saw the face of the priest of the holy city but Homunk did not grasp what that had to do with it all.
Homunk dispensed with the long-winded symbol language. From Pucky he had found out that the robots could also speak a sound language and used an old Arkonidian dialect.
"What do you think you’re doing?" he demanded of the Metalix who held him fast as if they wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t disappear again without a trace. "The gods will surely punish you for this when they arrive."
"The gods have arrived but they are as false as you. One of the robots stood straddle-legged in front of Homunk, his fist raised as if to hit him. "They are robots like us. And you."
"The ship has landed? The great spherical ship?" Homunk did not in the least hide his joy, for if Koster had arrived with the EX-238, then what he had foretold had come to pass. Even if the believers had found out that he was not human but half-robot. "Take me to it."
"I can’t understand a word!" Pucky’s squeaky voice could hardly be heard. Two robots had grabbed the mousebeaver and were dragging him in the opposite direction. "I have to disappear, Homunk. I’ll get help from Koster. Just wait until I come back with my army…"
There was really nothing for Pucky to do except to dematerialise. The robots grabbed at him carelessly and nearly broke his bones. He had an idea they wanted to do away with him, even if he had no idea what for. Even so, before he disappeared, he wanted to teach these robots a lesson that they wouldn’t soon forget.
He turned on his telekinetic powers and freed himself from both his torturers. Before they could recover from their surprise and draw their weapons, Pucky had lifted them into the air.
The other robots had never seen anything like it. They stared at the miracle that was taking place right before their very eyes.
Weightlessly the two Metalix, suddenly he
lpless, floated upward. Pucky even pinned their arms to their sides so they couldn’t make use of their rayguns. After a minute, both were tiny points on high. Then—Pucky let go of them.
They fell like two stones, bounced into the middle of the gaping crowd, ripping 4 or 5 others down with them. The clang of bursting metal mingled with the outcry of the believers. Then all was suddenly silent.
Everyone was looking at Pucky. Steel hands reached for their weapons.
Pucky, who had decided to free Homunk no matter what, gave up the project. With lightning speed he teleported to an altitude of five kilometres and held himself there through telekinesis.
Below him, the army was undulating. Details were no longer recognizable at this altitude but this much was certain: the army was no longer marching. The spaceport was only a kilometre away and on the landing field rested the EX-238 with its mighty telescoping supports.
The hatchway was open.
Ten men in the uniform of the Terranian spacefleet went toward the cordons of robots, unarmed and sure of themselves. Pucky delayed leaping into the EX-238. He would rather await developments here.
And he saw the cordon close and take the 10 men into their midst. Steel hands searched them for weapons.
Then they whisked them from the field in a wagon.
Pucky understood that a powerful change had taken place. Something must have happened to bring this about. It was the only way their sudden turning against Homunk was to be explained.
Pucky teleported into the central control room of the EX-238.
Lt. Schlenkowa sat in front of the controls and was staring at the screens. His right hand lay on the control button for the weapons centre. One push and the EX-238 would be spewing death and destruction.
But the lieutenant did not push the button.
"You’re right, Iltu," he said to Pucky. "They shouldn’t have gone. Now they’re in a spot and we can’t rescue them without putting them into the greatest of dangers."
"I’m Pucky, not Iltu," Pucky told him. "You Terranians will never learn to tell the difference between us. Man, if you’d pay attention to Iltu’s rose-red incisor, you couldn’t go wrong! You observe everything else so exactly. But now explain—what has happened?"
"Pucky!" the lieutenant was obviously relieved and seemed not even apologetic for his mistake. One mousebeaver, he must be thinking, is just like another. And Iltu knew how to teleport herself, too. "At last! We’ve been expecting you for ages."
Briefly, he sketched out what had happened. He concluded: "When FR-7 told us that these robots here took their creators and therefore all humanoids for gods, Maj. Koster thought it would not be dangerous to leave the ship. It was the only chance to establish contact, since we received no reply to our radio messages. Then the surprise attack took place. We couldn’t possibly interfere without endangering Koster and his people."
Before Pucky could answer, Iltu materialized in central control. She had received the thought-impulses of her mousebeaver and knew that he had returned. After a short greeting, she said: "The little pole-cats are burning to prove themselves right. Ooch said that if you hadn’t come back now, he, along with Wullewull and Axo, would have smashed up the whole spaceport. We’ve all been asking ourselves how they were proposing to do that."
"Me, too," Pucky grinned fleetingly. "It’s not quite so simple. Even so, I still don’t really understand what’s happened. Nearly half the Metalix were on our side and now they’ve suddenly turned against us. Homunk must know, but they’ve taken him prisoner." He looked at the screens. "They’re leading Koster and his people away. To the dome over there. A robot brain, if I’m not mistaken. Perhaps there everything will be explained. Iltu, fetch Ooch, Wullewull and Axo. Get an aero-glider ready. We’re going to free Homunk."
"And Koster?"
"Homunk is in greatest danger—I believe."
He was right, for fallen gods plummet deep. Mostly so deep as to be dashed to pieces.
* * * *
The fighting between the two different robot parties had stopped. Their leaders had declared a truce. On the other hand, the work robots who had been stirred up by Homunk had declined all negotiations and had drawn back into the tunnels after their first attack had failed. They could not have cared less whether the "prophet" Homunk was an organic being or a robot. Their indignation at having had to work for thousands of years under false assumptions and so having been led around by the nose could not, however, be so easily appeased.
In the meantime, the priest had arrived from the holy city. With great powers of persuasion and through a practical test he proved to the leaders of the believers that Homunk was in fact a synthetic and not an organic creature.
"We’re all convinced," he finally shouted while his harangue was at the same time being broadcast over the symbol screens, "that the gods are still living somewhere and will return one day. They are not extinct, as the non-believers maintain. Some stayed in our world, degenerated and disappeared. There can be no doubt about that. Even the appearance of the impostor tells us that the masters are alive. He has their form; he was created in their image. How could that happen if they were no longer alive? That’s why we have to wait for them but first we’ll make an example of this traitor. Together with other false gods, we’ll destroy him publicly."
Homunk looked at the priest and tried to fathom his motives. It was difficult to imagine the psychological impulses of a full robot. In this case, though, there was no other explanation. Robots thought reasonably and logically. One could only believe in miracles. If they actually took place, a reasonable and possible explanation must be found for them, so that belief would continue. At the same time, it was apparent that the priest himself was the last one who really believed in the return of the gods. He knew that there were no miracles and no gods but if the others would know it too, he would lose his position of leadership. That was why he saw a deadly enemy in Homunk.
"Am I allowed to say something in my own defence?" Homunk asked the two robots who stood on either side of him. "I’m afraid your priest is making too simple a thing of his accusations. May I speak?"
"Every defendant has the right to speak in his own defence."
Homunk stepped forward.
The army of the believers had withdrawn to the second robot brain in the city. It was one of those that had been re-programmed. With its help, symbols and direct images could be broadcast throughout the planet. Since air communications were impossible during the day, they used cable circuits.
Homunk now stood next to the priest on the podium. The dome had been rolled back and only the free sky vaulted over the technological array. In the hall itself, more than a thousand robots had gathered. The rest of the army was camped outside. It would have been impossible to break through the tight ring of metal bodies by force.
"I have to make clear," said Homunk, as he stood in front of the cameras, "that the accusation of the priest is built on false premises. I have never said that I was one of the gods. All I said was that they had sent me. And that’s true! I have also never said that I was an organic being. The gods would be unwise not to conform to circumstances. Once they had created you in their own image, what would have been better than to send you an emissary who was built along similar lines? Yes, I’m a robot, but I’m more like the creators than any of you."
Homunk paused. He did not expect any answer. At least not yet. For a moment he had to think of the immortal of the planet Wanderer to whom he owed his own existence. Perhaps It was really something like a god but it was ridiculous to designate human beings as such. But the robots did not know this. In their opinion, it was the humanoids—whether Arkonides or Terranians—that were God.
Their god. Since he had first created them.
"The gods never abandoned your world," Homunk continued. "They came from other worlds and stayed. Perhaps they died of their own free will after they had created you and gave you the powers of thinking. But be assured that there are even now thousands of planets
on which they are living. You have ever and again met their ships in outer space, among the stars but you have always avoided them. Why? I know that it was the non-believers who did it but isn’t that more proof that even they believe? They simply did not want any evidence for the existence of the creators, that’s all. But now no one can go against the evidence, for the ship has landed. The very ship whose arrival I prophesied to you.
The priest shouted in between: "And from that very ship, only a robot emerged!"
"Haven’t I said already," Homunk interrupted him, "that the messengers of the gods are suited to the circumstances in which they find themselves? Naturally a robot must make the first contact. What’s so wrong about that? But in the ship itself there are the masters, the creators—or, if you will, the gods. They are powerful enough to destroy your world. They know things you can’t even imagine. You, with all your thinking, are sterile and rigid, but organic intelligences never stop developing. They are ever broadening out and always learning something new. They are far superior to robots. I tell you…"
Homunk was interrupted.
The screens of the robot brains abruptly went dark. A strong humming filled the hall. The priest sprang to the controls and manipulated them. Then, suddenly, there was a loud voice. It came over the loud speakers amplified many times. It was to be heard all over the planet, wherever there were any robot-brains.
The voice said: "Ten persons have just left the alien ship—natural imitations of the beings whom the backward group would call gods. They were seized immediately. That alone is sufficient evidence that they are neither masters nor creators. If the false priest were right they could never have been taken captive. If there really were gods, stronger and mightier beings than we, then they would never have let us capture them. The evidence will be given in front of the control station; it will be proof enough that the gods are more easily destroyed than we, the robots. The broadcast will begin in 10 minutes."
In the Centre of the Galaxy Page 13