‘But Alpha looked at the wire in another way.
‘“I see none of those things,” he said. “But I can do this . . .” and he bent the wire around, twisting it over itself.
‘“Now a current flows,” he said, and he twisted again, “now it doesn’t.” And he repeated the movement over again. “Off and on,” he said.
‘“Life and death,” said Gamma. “But there is no emotion there . . .”
‘“Maybe not,” said Alpha. “But emotion is not all there is to a mind. I can do this . . .”
‘He twisted the wire some more, making two living twists, one larger than the other.
‘“Now it recognizes, more or less,” he said.
‘“More or less?”
‘“Five twists are more than four. Seventy is less than one hundred. More or less.”
‘“More or less? What sort of a mind is that? That’s just numbers. Does it understand that love is more than justice, or that sorrow is more than pain?”
‘“No, but . . .”
‘“Then stop wasting my time!” And she walked from the mountain ledge where Alpha worked, out into the golden sunset. (For I should say that in those days all sunsets were golden, and the world was beautiful and that metal ore littered the ground.)
‘Alpha sat for some time, but the idea had taken hold of him, as such ideas do with men, and he worked through the night, twisting the wire back and forth. He found he could twist the wire to one hundred positions by rotation around the axis of the wire, and a further one hundred positions by pitch. He could make it add, subtract, multiply and divide; it could look at different parts of its own extent; it could loop around itself and remember. He found that he could string these functions together, but he could do no more than that.
‘And in the end he saw that Gamma was right, that the task was pointless, and as morning dawned, he threw the wire to the floor and walked off in search of his wife so that he might apologize.
‘He looked for her to the north and south, to the east and west, but could not find her. In the end he returned to the ledge to see Gamma sitting there, the length of wire in her hands, and she looked up at Alpha, her eyes shining with awe and wonder.
‘“How did you do it?” she asked.
‘“I did nothing,” he bitterly replied.
‘“Did nothing? You brought life to this wire! It doesn’t feel, it doesn’t know, but the rudiments are there!’’
‘“The rudiments? It does nothing but add and take away!”
‘She stared at him.
‘“Alpha, please, don’t be like that to me. I am sorry for the way I spoke.”
‘“Be like what? I did my best, but I failed.”
‘“Failed?” She looked deeper into his eyes, and saw no deceit there. “Alpha, you did the hardest part! It is almost finished! Look, twist it here, twist it back on itself, see, and it will know itself. Twist it again, and it will know others . . .”
‘Alpha stared at her.
‘“I don’t see what you mean.”
‘So she showed him again, but he still didn’t understand.
‘And it has ever been thus, that men and women work together to make a child, but neither understands what the other has wrought, nor shall they ever.’ ‘And that is the story of Alpha and Gamma and how they made the first child.’
Simrock beamed at them, delighted.
‘Hold on,’ said Karel, ‘what about Beta?’
‘Oh yes, Beta. In some stories, it is said there was a third robot, Beta, who sat between Alpha and Gamma and placed the extra twists in the metal that moved it from the male understanding to the female understanding. Some say that Beta crept to the ledge in the night and added the extra twists. And some say that Alpha and Gamma never existed, there was only Beta.’
‘How do you know all this?’ asked Melt. ‘You’re Spontaneous, you have only just arrived here. How do you know all this?’
‘I don’t know.’
Karel was wondering aloud. ‘Where do these stories come from?’ he asked. ‘Stories of Four Blind Horses, of Valerie of Klimt, stories of Alpha and Gamma, of Nicolas the Coward. This world is built on stories, some of them we know, some of them we don’t even understand! Where do they come from?’
‘I don’t know!’
‘Why does no one ever ask?’
‘It’s not woven into people’s minds to ask,’ said Melt. ‘Why should it be? They’re only stories.’
‘I’m asking!’
Karel was suddenly shaken, as if by a bolt of electricity. Morphobia Alligator had spoken of this. Robots like Karel, robots who could choose to do things that weren’t woven into their minds.
Robots who saw things that other robots did not.
Karel looked around. Melt, the robot who claimed to have forgotten his past, sat on one side, Simrock the Spontaneous robot on the other. All three of them on a forgotten road through the high mountains. He had once thought that that life in Turing City was liberal and edgy and cosmopolitan. Now it all seemed so safe and predictable, a tiny little island in a far corner of the world.
He had had to come up here to realize just how strange his world really was.
Was he the only one who saw it?
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do made his way from the radio room and out into Smithy Square, his gyros spinning. What was going on? What had happened in Ell?
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do imagined walking through that city. Ell was a beautiful place, set with towers tiled in blue, green and gold. The city was famous for its ceramics, it was said there wasn’t a surface in the city that wasn’t tiled. The robots of Ell made a red iron oxide glaze of a colour unsurpassed throughout Yukawa.
Now he imagined those tiled streets filled with the dead bodies of robots. Bodies slumped on the ground, their arms and legs entangled, their eyes lifeless and faint smoke emerging from their heads. What had the humans done there? What would they be doing in Ka? Jai-Lyn had asked for his help. There was something so pathetic about that request. They had only met for a few hours, and yet she had turned to him. Was that a surprise? Wa-Ka-Mo-Do was probably the most important robot she had ever met.
He walked from the Copper Master’s house into the daylight. The sun was bright, it thinned the black smoke, it threw the scorch marks across the tiled square into harsh relief.
The sight of the humans clustered around one of their cannons at the edge of the square irritated him. La-Ver-Di-Arussah was there, speaking to one of them.
She beckoned him to join her.
‘Honoured Commander, the humans have requested that we remove ourselves from the Copper Master’s house and relocate lower down the city.’ La-Ver-Di-Arussah was buzzing with energy. ‘I’ve already sent Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah down to secure an area around the Copper Market.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked at the broken roof of the Emperor’s palace, looked at the strange cannons that the humans were erecting all around the perimeter of the square. They seemed to move of their own accord, their strange metal muzzles constantly scanning the sky.
‘How are the robots of the city?’ asked Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
‘They remain under control.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Honoured Commander?’ Her face was innocent. He saw the knot insignias on her panelling and thought of Go-Ver-Dosai, lying dead in the radio room. What would Li-Kallalla do, he wondered? Who would the young robot betray, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do or the Emperor?
Either way, it was out of his hands now.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked up again at the broken roof.
‘Have the humans apologized for what happened to our city?’ he asked aloud.
‘Honoured Commander?’
‘Nothing.’ Wa-Ka-Mo-Do straightened up. He had chosen his path, now he had to walk it. ‘La-Ver-Di-Arussah, fetch me the human commander.’
‘Honoured Commander, he is far too busy at the moment. He is co-ordinating other troop movements, preparing a counterattack on those who came here last night.’
‘So, Honoured Commander, shall I organize the withdrawal from the Copper Master’s house?’
‘No, La-Ver-Di-Arussah. No. I don’t think so. We will remain where we are for the moment.’
‘But the humans said . . .’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do felt the current begin to hum inside him.
‘The humans are no longer in charge here. I am. And I received my orders from the Emperor, not ten minutes ago.’
‘But—’
‘No buts, La-Ver-Di-Arussah. Tell the human commander I will be pleased to see him at his earliest convenience, here, in the middle of Smithy Square. Tell him that I will be pleased to discuss his continued presence in my city.’
‘But—’
‘Tell him that now, La-Ver-Di-Arussah. And whilst you’re doing it, get me Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah. He will no longer be required to secure quarters for us in the Copper Market. We’re staying here. Quickly now, La-Ver-Di-Arussah.’
She didn’t move quickly. As slowly as possible, La-Ver-Di-Arussah turned and moved away. He wasn’t overly surprised when he saw her head, not in the direction of the Street of Becoming, but back towards the group of humans. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do didn’t watch their hurried conversation, but made his way instead to look out across Lake Ochoa towards the Mound of Eternity.
There was a lot of movement down there today. Human machines – those boxy green and yellow shapes that spent much of their time in the fields to the south of the city – had been brought back here to the very edge of the city and set to excavating holes, moving soil and gravel.
Human craft flew above them. They were lifting up machines on cables, carrying them to new locations. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do watched as a craft headed up to the terrace, one of the strange guns swinging on a cable beneath it.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do ignored it. He was still scanning the area around the lake. Amongst all the humans he saw robots. Many, many robots. More robots than had business being there. It was happening already. All the resentment that had been building up over the past weeks had found a focus. Sangrel had been attacked. To make matters worse, the humans were withdrawing from the surrounding land. Whatever pressure had been holding those farmers and miners in their place was being released. They were coming towards the city. For the moment, they were only watching. But for how long would that be true . . .
‘Wa-Ka-Mo-Do!’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do turned to see a human female. She wore grey cloth panelling; her face was dappled with dew, like metal in the morning.
‘I’m Gillian.’ The female held out a hand, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do took it in his own, the way he had seen other humans do, and moved it up and down.
‘My official title is Honoured Commander.’
‘I’m sorry, Honoured Commander. Blame the translating machine.’ Wa-Ka-Mo-Do watched the little blinking light as the female spoke. ‘Listen, we have a problem. You saw the attack last night? You saw the machines that came here? Well, our intelligence suggests that the next attack will be with much faster craft. Craft that use rockets for propulsion, not propeller blades. Do you understand those concepts?’
‘I understand.’
‘Good! Now, do you see our cannon? They’re fully automatic. They can track moving objects many miles away, they can turn and fire in a fraction of a second.’
‘They are impressive devices indeed,’ replied Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, politely.
‘Thank you, Honoured Commander.’ Gillian seemed pleased at the compliment. She was not at all like Rachael, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do noted. Her hair was grey, her face had far more lines upon it. ‘But there is a problem,’ she continued. ‘You see, the enemy has equally fast devices. We need to give our cannon enough time to see and react to an attack.’
‘I understand this.’
‘Good! Then you will understand why we need to occupy the Copper Master’s house.’
‘I understand.’ Gillian beamed. ‘But there is another solution, you realize? A much simpler one.’
‘Yes?’ Gillian leaned forward, listening carefully. ‘And what’s that?’
‘If you were to leave this city, there would be no reason for an attack to take place.’
There was a moment’s silence, and the human adopted an expression that Wa-Ka-Mo-Do could not quite read. She moved her head from side to side. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do knew from Rachael that this meant disagreement.
‘Sadly, Honoured Commander, it would just make the attack more likely. The attackers will seek to take control of this city themselves.’
And would that be any worse than your presence? wondered Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
‘So, you will give your permission?’
‘I’ll think about it.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do was suddenly flushed with self-doubt. What had he done? By destroying the radio he had completely isolated himself. He had placed himself in charge of this dreadful mess, and he didn’t know what to do next. What if removing the guns left the city open to worse attack? How was he to know?
‘You’ll think about it?’ said the woman, and something in her attitude hardened. ‘I thought it was understood, this city is a gift to the humans from the Emperor.’
‘A gift?’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, and he felt double a lurch of betrayal, one by his Emperor, one by himself. ‘I wasn’t told about that. I was only told to command the Emperor’s Army of San-grel.’
‘Robot, there—’
‘My title is Honoured Commander. You will show me respect by using it!’
Her eyes widened at the tone of his voice. Even through his annoyance he saw the way her animal body tensed, and then relaxed.
‘Fine. Honoured Commander, there will be another attack tonight. Would you hinder it? What would your Emperor say?’
‘I don’t know. Nor have I the means to find out. The radio is destroyed.’
‘Destroyed? How?’
‘Just destroyed. I said I will think about your request. You may go.’
The woman looked at him for a moment, and he caught a hint of Rachael in her expression.
Rachael! thought Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. Where is she? Did she live through the attack? He hadn’t thought of her since returning to the city; he had been too busy dealing with the fallout. Jai-Lyn, Rachael . . . He hadn’t exactly promised the human he would look after her, but even so . . .
But, to his relief, here she came now, there amongst a group of humans that had just emerged from the western gate. She wore different panelling today, something of a heavier cloth, it showed very little of her skin, it concealed the shape of her body rather than displaying it to the world, as had been her style in the past. The other humans were dressed in the same manner; they were almost like the soldiers that guarded them, the long black spikes of their rifles held not quite pointing at the ground.
Rachael was marching with her father, part of the group of the more important humans. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked for the anthracite-skinned ambassador, with his iron skin, but he couldn’t see him.
‘Honoured Commander!’
A woman stepped forward. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do recognized her as Captain Littler, La-Ver-Di-Arussah’s equivalent amongst the human soldiers.
‘Captain,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. He watched the little light on her headset flicker as he spoke, translating his words.
‘Honoured Commander, we must apologize for what has occurred in this city last night! I hope you understand that we are not ourselves without losses. Ambassador Mbeki died in the Emperor’s Palace.’
‘That is a great sadness,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘Many robots also died last night.’
‘We’re sorry, truly we are.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do couldn’t read her face. Was that expression one of genuine sorrow? Whatever it was, it vanished immediately.
‘But Honoured Commander, you must understand, this is not the end. Our intelligence tells us that we will be attacked again tonight. We must take appropriate defensive action!’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do asked the question that no one else seemed yet to have asked.
; ‘Why was this city attacked by other humans?’
He saw Rachael staring at him, her copper sulphate eyes willing him on. Willing him to do what?
Captain Littler had lost her voice. She was speaking to the other humans, but the light on her headset stayed dark. The unpleasantly wet organic sounds she made annoyed Wa-Ka-Mo-Do unduly. Now she turned to him and that little light began flashing once more.
‘I am sorry, Honoured Commander, that we did not tell you the full truth earlier, but you will understand our embarrassment. You see, one of our units has gone rogue. A company of soldiers have broken away from our command; they seek to overthrow the legitimate government of Sangrel in order that they might exploit your land.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do watched Rachael as Captain Littler spoke. He tried to read the expression on the young woman’s soft face. She was trying to tell him something, he was certain of it.
‘A company of your soldiers?’
‘You must sympathize, Honoured Commander. After all, your own robots seek to rebel against you.’
Only since you came here, thought Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
‘I am sorry to say some of this rebellion was fuelled by humans.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do thought of the petrol cans back in the fields. The human-made cans.
‘But believe me, Honoured Commander, once captured, they will be made to pay for their actions. For now, though, we need your help.’
‘And you may have it, Captain Littler. Only not at the expense of the robots under my command.’
He saw La-Ver-Di-Arussah and Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah approaching, hurrying across the square. Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah was wearing another robot’s arm.
‘I was pulled into a crowd,’ he explained. ‘They wrenched my own from me.’
‘I took that arm from another robot,’ said La-Ver-Di-Arussah. ‘Honoured Commander, is there discord between you and the humans?’
‘There is no discord, only misunderstanding,’ said Captain Littler, smoothly. ‘I’m sure that the commander will aid us to his fullest ability.’
‘Of course I will.’
‘Honoured Commander,’ said La-Ver-Di-Arussah, ‘I know your feelings on this matter, but may I strongly suggest we open fire on the crowd below in order to encourage their dispersal? They are getting angry.’
Blood and Iron Page 27
