‘Sangrel, this is Silence. Your commander is indeed honoured amongst robots. Prepare to receive a message dictated by the Emperor himself, as relayed by the Silver Guard.’
Li-Kallalla looked around in astonishment.
‘Such a thing has never happened in the past, Honoured Commander.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do lowered his head and waited for the response, doing his best to appear dignified, but all the time feeling waves of relief surging through his body. At last the Emperor had been made aware of the situation. At last he understood what was happening to the robots of Sangrel.
The radio crackled, and a voice spoke.
‘Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, of Ko of the state of Ekrano in the High Spires, Commander of the Emperor’s Army of Sangrel. Hear the words of the Emperor, dictated to his servant.’
Out of respect, the two radio operators stood to attention. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do found himself doing the same.
‘The Emperor wishes it to be known that the situation in Sangrel is in harmony with his wishes. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, his commander of the army of Sangrel, is to continue in his duties, and to offer all support to the humans that the Emperor has been pleased to welcome within his province. The wishes of the humans are paramount, and the Emperor would not wish himself to be disgraced in the eyes of his guests by being seen to place the needs of his subjects above those that he has welcomed into his lands.’
Rank and roles were forgotten for just a moment as Wa-Ka-Mo-Do and the two radio robots looked at one another.
‘To be specific, the Emperor wishes his commander to understand that he is to place himself under the command of the Emperor’s guests and to aid them in any way they request. Any actions otherwise would be deemed treachery to the Emperor. Is this understood?’
The two radio robots gazed at Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, who remained motionless, staring at the black mouth of the speaker.
‘I repeat, Sangrel, is this understood? We wish to hear this from the mouth of the commander himself.’
Li-Kallalla flicked a switch and looked up at Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
‘Is this understood, Commander?’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do felt the current building in his electromuscles.
‘Is this understood?’
‘Yes,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘I understand.’
‘Very well. Continue with your duty, Honoured Commander. Silence out.’
Li-Kallalla flicked some more switches, and then turned back to gaze at Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
‘Do you have any more orders, Honoured Commander?’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do was lost in thought.
‘Honoured Commander?’
‘What is going on?’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘What is going on, Li-Kallalla?’
‘I do not know, Honoured Commander.’
The two robots were nervous and embarrassed by Wa-Ka-Mo-Do’s behaviour. No wonder. He was addressing them as equals. He couldn’t help it.
‘If we follow the Emperor’s commands then the robots of this city will all be killed,’ he said.
‘If those are the Emperor’s wishes . . .’ began Go-Ver-Dosai.
‘Don’t you understand, their deaths would be my responsibility.’
‘Honoured Commander! Please do not touch me!’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do realized he had seized Go-Ver-Dosai’s arm. Slowly, he let go.
‘The only thing protecting the humans at the moment is my troops! If I pull them back the humans would be wiped out and peace and harmony would return to Sangrel.’
‘Such talk is treachery!’ Go-Ver-Dosai was horrified. ‘You heard the Emperor!’
‘I know. I know.’ He turned to Li-Kallalla. The younger robot was nervous, trapped between two superiors. ‘What do you think is going on?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know, Honoured Commander,’ burbled the young robot, his voicebox slipping out of phase. ‘I wouldn’t presume to understand the mind of the Emperor.’
‘No. Nor would I. And yet perhaps it is the minds of the humans we should understand. They appear to be the new rulers of San-grel.’
‘More treachery! The Emperor rules all of Yukawa!’
‘Be silent, Go-Ver-Dosai! I am one of the Eleven!’
‘The Eleven are subservient to the Emperor. Or are the stories true? Do you subscribe to some higher power? The heresy of the Book of Robots runs throughout the High Spires.’
‘I subscribe to the truth, Go-Ver-Dosai. And we are not seeing the truth at the moment, I know it. Li-Kallalla. Tell me, where else are there humans on Yukawa? You operate the radio. You must know.’
‘He doesn’t know, Honoured Commander,’ said Go-Ver-Dosai firmly. ‘We do not speak of anything but what we are directed to.’
‘I am directing Li-Kallalla to speak. You will be silent.’
The young robot looked from one superior to the other, terrified.
‘I don’t know for sure, Commander. But . . .’ he hesitated.
‘Yes, Li-Kallalla?’
‘Well, there were said to be humans in Ell.’
‘That is classified information, Li-Kallalla!’
‘Go-Ver-Dosai, you will be silent! Li-Kallalla, I am your superior. Nothing you know is classified from me!’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do felt the current begin to surge once more. Ell again. The robots of the city had written that name as graffiti. What was happening in Ell?
‘You imply that there are no longer humans in Ell?’ he said, carefully.
Li-Kallalla lowered his gaze.
‘Well, Honoured Commander, no one is quite sure what is happening in Ell. They no longer speak on the radio, they are no longer mentioned at all in any of the official reports—’
‘Li-Kallalla, be quiet!’
In one fluid movement, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do drew his sword and brought the point up beneath the chin of Go-Ver-Dosai. ‘I am the commander of this city,’ he said. ‘This is the last time I will mention this. I will instruct my troops what to do.’
‘We are not your troops!’ said Go-Ver-Dosai.
‘Then you are but a civilian, and will follow my orders or die. Li-Kallalla, go on. What do you know of Ell?’
‘Nothing. Only that on the day before you arrived there was a blast of static across the radio frequencies that burned out half the equipment here. It came from the direction of Ell.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do thought for a moment.
‘How strong a blast?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Strong enough to kill a robot?’
‘I don’t know.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do slowly lowered his sword.
‘I don’t like this,’ he said. ‘I don’t like this at all. Who are we to trust?’
‘Trust your Emperor!’ said Go-Ver-Dosai.
‘I’m not sure I do,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘I no longer believe he is the true power here in Yukawa. And even if he were, then is it right that we should follow a man who would sanction the death of so many of his own people?’
‘Hah! You are not of the high born, are you?’ challenged Go-Ver-Dosai. ‘If you were, you would not ask such questions!’
‘Silence,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, raising his sword once more.
‘I will not be silent in the face of such treason, Honoured Commander. Your duty is clear. You heard the words of the Emperor himself.’
‘I heard the voice of one claiming to speak for the Emperor.’
‘So what? Since when does a low-born robot have the right to question the Emperor?’
‘Since the Emperor proved he was not worthy of command. I will not place myself in the service of these humans!’
‘Then you are a traitor!’
‘Maybe I am!’
And as he spoke the words he felt the great drain on his current, which had sucked his energy these past few days, finally disconnect. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do felt as if he had cleaned the rust from his mind. He felt as if he was thinking clearly at last.
‘Maybe I am a traitor,’ he repeated. ‘But at last I am doing what is right! There will be no robots left in this city unless I act!’
‘They w
ill send orders to have you relieved of your command!’
That silenced Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. Go-Ver-Dosai was right. What was he to do?
He looked at the radio equipment, and an idea dawned upon him. It was a terrifying thought, but he was already a traitor.
‘Destroy the radio equipment,’ he said.
‘No!’ That was Li-Kallalla. ‘Honoured Commander, please, no!’
‘We have no choice, Li-Kallalla. Destroy it.’
Go-Ver-Dosai stepped forward.
‘I will not allow this.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do brought his sword up once more. Go-Ver-Dosai laughed.
‘You are indeed without grace. You challenge me when I am unarmed?’
‘Then you take my sword, Go-Ver-Dosai,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, handing it over. As the other robot took it, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do pushed his arm, thrusting the sword into one of the amplifiers. White sparks crackled. Go-Ver-Dosai lashed back with one foot, but Wa-Ka-Mo-Do dodged easily.
Go-Ver-Dosai paused, getting the balance of the sword.
‘No grace!’ he scoffed. ‘The fight had not even begun. And will you help me, Li-Kallalla? Or will you see the radio destroyed?’
‘I don’t know,’ the young robot said, miserably.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do reached out and pushed a stack of equipment to the floor. They heard the valves inside popping.
Go-Ver-Dosai laughed.
‘And how long do you think it will take to rebuild that? A day at most!’
‘A day may be all we have,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, and he lunged as Go-Ver-Dosai thrust the sword at him, made to grab the robot’s hand, was surprised as the sword was whipped around to drag a long scratch across the scarlet metal of his arm. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do sprang to the side, took hold of Go-Ver-Dosai’s wrist and pulled him forward, sending him tumbling over the broken equipment that lay on the floor.
‘You are not without skill, Go-Ver-Dosai, but I am clearly your superior.’
‘Maybe so. But I will retain my honour. Can you say the same?’
‘Perhaps not,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, sadly.
And as Go-Ver-Dosai thrust forward again, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do took his arm and pulled him over, landed on top of him, his elbow pressed against the other’s shoulder, an awl in his hand.
‘You wouldn’t dare kill me!’ said Go-Ver-Dosai.
‘I already have,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, and they both heard the crackle of current discharging into the damaged radio equipment.
‘What do you mean?’ said Li-Kallalla, and then he understood what was happening. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do was shorting the coil. That crackle was the sound of Go-Ver-Dosai’s lifeforce being expended in seconds rather than years. The surge was so intense the metal of the nearby transceivers was melting.
‘Traitor!’ screeched Go-Ver-Dosai, his voice way too loud, distorting the malforming speaker. Sparks wriggled their way down the length of this body. ‘You will betray this city too.’
‘I will do my best for its people,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
‘You betrayed the Emperor. What’s to stop you betraying the people too?’
The words struck home.
‘I will be loyal to this city . . .’
‘Will you?’
‘Yes!’
He realized he was arguing with a dying man. This was not behaviour worthy of a warrior of Ekrano.
‘Yes,’ he repeated. ‘I will. This city will be safe in my charge.’
‘Will it?’ asked the dying robot. His body was melting, the heat of his mind was radiating from the metal. ‘Then what about Jai-Lyn?’
‘Jai-Lyn?’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, confused by the sudden change of subject. ‘Jai-Lyn? What has she to do with Sangrel?’
‘Nothing,’ said the robot. ‘Yet she asks for your help. Three times now we have received messages from Ka, asking for you by name.’
‘Jai-Lyn asked for me? Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘The Vestal Virgins ordered us not to.’ His voice distorted. His mind was melting. ‘They buzzz saw the buzzzz treachery in your buzzz mind.’
‘Why did she want me?’
Go-Ver-Dosai just smiled. He reached up and placed a finger to his head, pried open the broken panelling there and pushed the finger inside. There was a blue flash and three loud cracks. He convulsed and died. Smoke came from his head.
Li-Kallalla looked as if his own mind was melting.
‘You killed him . . .’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked at the young robot.
‘Li-Kallalla,’ he said urgently, ‘whose orders will you follow. Mine, or the Vestal Virgins? Will you speak of what happened in here?’
‘Will you kill me too?’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do didn’t answer. He didn’t know.
Li-Kallalla spoke, but Wa-Ka-Mo-Do wasn’t listening, swamped by thoughts. Go-Ver-Dosai lay dead and smoking in the middle of the wreckage. He had betrayed the Emperor, betrayed his command, all for what he hoped were the right reasons. Could he be trusted?
Jai-Lyn was asking for help. She had summoned Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. He had promised to go to her aid. But he couldn’t. He had to stay here in this city.
First Ell, then Sangrel. And now Ka.
What was happening on Yukawa?
Karel
‘How long will he stay with us?’ asked Melt, looking at the Spontaneous robot walking the Northern Road ahead of them.
‘There’s no telling,’ said Karel. ‘The Spontaneous are like this, especially when they first emerge.’
‘What happens to them then?’
‘Some of them assimilate into the prevailing society. Some of them wander to the borders. They seem to be driven by imperatives according to the knowledge they are born with.’ He looked around at the high mountain views, thoughtfully. ‘Just like us, I suppose. I wonder how he knew about this road?’
‘There have been others here before us,’ said Melt. ‘An army has marched this road. Kavan’s, I suppose.’
Karel hummed in agreement. The high passes of the Northern Road were littered with the ash of portable forges, the stones worn further by the many feet that had passed.
‘The views are amazing up here,’ said Karel, looking at the streams of snowmelt that wet the grey rock beyond the low wall. ‘The sky is bluer. The rocks seem more alive.’
‘I know,’ said Melt, and Karel thought he heard a touch of sadness there. What was he remembering?
‘Why don’t you like Simrock?’ he asked.
‘No reason.’
‘Yes there is. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’
‘I’ll tell you why. His mind is twisted around a story. How can we trust him?’
‘All of our minds are twisted around stories,’ said Karel. ‘Who is to say which ones are the right ones?’
‘I need to rest,’ said Melt, suddenly. He sat down, leaning his heavy body against the low wall by the side of the road.
‘Simrock!’ called Karel. The Spontaneous robot was up ahead, looking over a ridge at the road’s descent beyond. He came back to join them.
‘We need to rest.’
They remained in silence for a while, the blue sky deepening to black above them.
‘Did you have a wife, Melt?’ asked Karel.
‘No,’ said Melt.
‘Karel does,’ said Simrock. ‘She’s in Artemis City.’
Metal scraped on rock as Karel turned to stare at the other robot.
‘How do you know that? I never mentioned that to you.’
‘I know about you, Karel,’ said Simrock.
‘How?’
‘How did he know about these mountains?’ asked Melt. ‘I thought that was the way of the Spontaneous.’
‘What do you know of me?’ said Karel, eyes glowing uncomfortably.
‘I know about your mind.’
‘What about it?’
‘I think it’s probably useful for the present time. It’s not the way for regular robots though. Your moment will pass.’
Karel’s gyros had begun to spin, seeking a balance he did not fe
el.
‘So many minds,’ said Melt. ‘I once heard a saying. A robot is just a mind’s way of making another mind.’
‘Is that supposed to calm me down?’ wondered Karel.
‘I don’t think that applies to the Spontaneous, though,’ continued Melt, following his train of thought. ‘Where do their minds come from?’ He looked suspiciously at Simrock.
‘We’re all probably descended from the Spontaneous,’ said Karel, also staring at Simrock. How many other robots knew who he was? It was an unsettling thought. Here he was in the mountains, and across the world below him there were maybe robots who even now were looking towards him, and pondering his moves.
‘I know a story about where robots come from,’ said Simrock, brightly. ‘The story of Alpha and Gamma.’
‘I never believed that story,’ interrupted Karel, before the story even began. ‘Anyway, what happened to Beta?’
‘That comes later,’ said Simrock. He began his tale.
The Story of Alpha and Gamma
‘Alpha and Gamma lived in the mountains at the Top of the World. They were the first two robots. No one knows where they came from, and no one knows why they decided to make a child. Some people say that the urge was woven into their minds, as it is in all robots’ minds to differing extents, but that would imply there were robots before Alpha and Gamma to do the weaving. Others say that as Alpha and Gamma grew older they desired a robot to look after them in their old age, but that implies they knew of death, and how could the first two robots know of something they had never seen before? And some people say that Alpha and Gamma wove a child because they simply had the idea to do so.
‘So how was the first mind made? For even though there is disagreement about why Alpha and Gamma made a mind, all agree that they did not have the knowledge at first about how to make such a thing. This is something that they learned for themselves.
‘Where to begin? First they opened up each other’s heads and they examined the metal inside. They saw iron and copper, gold, silver, platinum and palladium, and so they went away and they mined ore and they smelted it and they made wire, just like that in their own heads. But the wire they made was straight and smooth and unthinking.
‘“How do we twist it?” asked Gamma, holding the wire in her hands. “Where do we begin? This is just a piece of wire. I see nothing here. No sense of love or fear, no happiness or sadness or yearning or satiety . . .”
Blood and Iron Page 26
