But when her husband returned she would focus entirely on him. As she had promised, she never compared Kalem with the other man in her life… but she could not forget the brave officer, either. In a sense, she had the best of both worlds.
Is it human to say that no one. understands me? This is one of many things I have learned from them.
— Erasmus Dialogues
Erasmus had been accused of much during his long existence. Many people, including the maddeningly interesting Serena Butler, had called him a butcher — for his insightful laboratory experiments into human nature, and especially for tossing Serena's tiny son off the balcony.
Before its downfall, the Earth-Omnius had insinuated that Erasmus was trying to become human himself. What a ludicrous thought! Recently, even the Corrin-Omnius had suggested that Erasmus wanted to usurp the evermind — though only the independent robot's quick thinking and effective action had salvaged Corrin itself from disaster and prevented the continued spread of the corrupted update.
Erasmus resented being categorized so simplistically. He prided himself on the fact that he defied description or interpretation. He wanted so much more than anyone imagined.
Now, as he trekked across a broad snowfield with young Gilbertus Albans behind him, linked by rope, the autonomous robot considered how parochial other minds were — even Omnius's — in comparison with his own. Through his researches, Erasmus had involved himself with so much more of the overall biological canvas than any other researcher, machine or man. He enjoyed the best of all possible worlds.
Hearing the teenager breathing hard, though not protesting, Erasmus slowed his mechanical pace. He had modified his flowmetal legs and feet for greater stability on the snow, and now he used his copious energy reserves to trudge forward, breaking a path. Even so, it was difficult for poor Gilbertus to keep up. The ascent slope was steeper than it looked, and unstable; no human could match the mobile characteristics of an advanced robot design.
The Corrin-Omnius, now repaired and essentially recovered from the cascade of breakdowns, followed them with a flurry of watcheyes that buzzed around their heads like mosquitoes. The evermind, itself no more than disembodied software dispersed like an invisible cloud of data, could never enjoy the real experience of this.
It was yet another instance in which Erasmus, with his ambulatory, autonomous body, could feel superior to Omnius. The computer evermind absorbed vast amounts of data, but had no real experiences of his own.
It is not merely the amount of information that matters, Erasmus thought, but the quality of it. And he found himself somewhat amused at the realization that Omnius was something of a voyeur, always watching and never really participating… or living.
Living. The word brought to Erasmus's mind all sorts of philosophical questions. Did a thinking machine, without cellular structures, actually live? A few like himself did, he decided, but most did not. They just went through rote patterns, day after day. Was Omnius alive? The robot considered this for a long moment, and came away thinking, No. He is not.
This answer, in turn, brought up all sorts of additional questions, like shoots from the branch of a tree. He realized that he had pledged his allegiance to an inanimate thing, a dead thing, and wondered if such a pledge was even morally valid, or if he could discard it.
I can do as I please. I shall do as I please, when it suits me.
Tie red giant sun shed harsh coppery light but scant warmth at such a high altitude. Looking back, Erasmus satisfied himself that young Gil-bertus was not overextending himself, especially with the heavy backpack he insisted on toting. The boy had to be protected from hurting himself.
Gilbertus's biological form was, by its very nature, vulnerable to accidents and the environment, and the robot needed to be extremely watchful on his behalf. Just to protect his experimental subject, of course… or so he tried to tell himself. Over the past four years, Erasmus had devoted a great deal of effort to teaching this boy, converting him from a wild ruffian into the fine young man he was today.
Erasmus looked upslope to a broken terrain full of rotten ice, left over from Corrin's long winter season. He identified recognizable topographical features, and continued trudging upward. It had been centuries since he had been here, but his perfect gelcircuitry memory told him exactly where he was going.
"I can guess where you're taking me, Mr. Erasmus." Gilbertus had a narrow face with a wide mouth, large, olive-colored eyes, and straw-yellow hair that peeked from under his parka hood. Though rather small in stature for his age — perhaps because of insufficient nutrition in his youth in the slave pens — he was still wiry and strong.
"Is that correct? Well, keep guessing, Gilbertus, because I might have a trick or two up my sleeve."
"Don't try to fool me. Robots don't do tricks."
"Your own words defeat your argument. If I were trying to fool you, Gilbertus, would that not in itself be a trick… thereby contradicting your own postulate? You must frame your thoughts in a more logical manner."
Gilbertus fell silent to ponder the conundrum.
Erasmus returned to his own ponderings, this time about all of the unusable data that Omnius had accumulated without any understanding of how to synthesize new insights from it. Data itself was nothing unless one used it as a resource from which to draw conclusions.
Erasmus could access virtually anything that the evermind knew, from an electronic building that contained Omnius's backup files. Erasmus didn't even have to link with the evermind to obtain the information, something the robot avoided so that he could maintain his independence… and protect his secrets. Of course, Omnius had secrets as well, files that were not accessible to any robot. Those would be of interest to the inquisitive Erasmus, but were not worth the risk of a direct connection.
"Are we almost there, Mr. Erasmus?" the boy asked, panting.
The robot formed a smile on his flowmetal face and swiveled his shining oval head entirely around to glance behind him. "Almost there. I should have had other children in addition to you, Gilbertus. I am an excellent coach."
Gilbertus paused to assess what the robot had said, then smiled. "You're a machine, and you can't have children."
"True, but I am a very special kind of machine, with many adaptations and modifications. Do not be surprised at anything I can do."
"Please don't get weird on me again, Mr. Erasmus."
The robot simulated a laugh. He enjoyed the company of Gilbertus far more than he'd ever thought he would. This youth, thirteen now, had turned out to be extremely bright and a real treasure, much more than a simple experiment. Under Erasmus's guidance, Gilbertus was beginning to tap into his full potential. Perhaps after constant instruction and rigorous, patient training, the independent robot could, through his ward, realize the pinnacle of human potential. Omnius would get much more than expected from the challenge he had issued.
Sometimes the shiny robot and the boy would banter back and forth, each trying to snag the other on unfounded assumptions or logic flaws. Erasmus had taken care to instruct his eager student in the history of the universe, philosophy, religion, politics, and the perfect beauty of mathematics. The palette from which they chose their subjects contained infinite colors, and the boy's eager mind used it all with remarkable efficiency.
Unlike his earlier wager with the Earth-Omnius — in which Erasmus tried to turn a loyal trustee against his masters — this time he was achieving something positive. Though it was no longer necessary, the robot maintained a proud smile as he trudged over the snow toward a sharp fracture in the rocks.
The slope leveled, and Erasmus identified two upthrust rocks separated by a deep crevasse. "We will stop here and make camp." He extended a metal arm. "There used to be a snow bridge over there."
"And you foolishly did not check its structural integrity before you attempted to cross it," Gilbertus said knowingly, as he removed his pack and plopped it on the snow. "It broke when you tried to cross it, and you fell into the cre
vasse, where you remained trapped for years."
"I would never make such a mistake again… though, in retrospect, the consequences proved most beneficial for me. Throughout that frozen, isolated time I had nothing to do but contemplate, rather like a Cogitor. It was the seed of my unique form of independence."
Gilbertus gazed in awe at the stark fissure in the rock, ignoring the cold wind. "I've been looking forward to seeing this place ever since you told me about it. I think of it as your… birthplace."
"What a curious thought. I rather like it."
That evening, while the young man finished setting up their fabricated camp components, Erasmus played chef, cooking on a portable stove, dipping his sensor into a stew of Corrin rabbit, adding seasoning as if he knew what he was doing. Then he watched carefully while Gilbertus ate; the robot merely sampled the dishes himself with his sensitive probes, attempting to understand what his ward was tasting.
Afterward, the robot picked up where they had left off on their last lesson. Ever since he had succeeded in teaching the former wild boy to follow basic, civil behavior, Erasmus had concentrated on boosting Gilbertus's memory capacity through mental exercises. "Thirty-seven billion, eight hundred sixty-eight million, forty thousand, one hundred fifty-six," Erasmus said.
"What Earth's human population would have been today — based upon birth and mortality projections — if Omnius had not intervened, and if the planet had not been destroyed."
"Precisely right. A proper education has no limits."
For hours as the night grew colder, Erasmus ran through additional questions, and his student showed a remarkable ability to organize and utilize data in his mind, just as a machine would. The young man's capacity for learning was impressive, and he proved capable of advanced calculations and thought processes. Gilbertus's organic brain learned to sort through a variety of consequences and possibilities, and always select the best alternative.
Later that night, as a light snow began to fall, Erasmus noted that his student began to make mistakes. Patiently, the robot added to what his student already knew, layering data into the young human's mind in such a fashion that he would be able to retrieve it quickly in the form of organic memory. But, though Gilbertus said nothing, his attention wandered, and he seemed to be having trouble focusing.
Erasmus realized that the young man was exhausted from the difficult hike and too many hours without rest. The robot often made this error, forgetting to consider that humans required sleep, and that even the most advanced drugs could not completely replace that natural function. Even if Gilbertus Albans had a steady biological energy supply, Erasmus could not teach him without pause, around the clock.
Though knowledge has no limits, he mused, the human capacity for learning has definite boundaries. "Sleep now, Gilbertus. Let your mind absorb and process information, and we will continue when you wake again."
"Good night, Mr. Erasmus," the boy said in a weary but playful tone, as he crawled into his warm sleeping enclosure.
Erasmus sat motionless, staring and recording with thousands of optic threads until Gilbertus quickly dozed off. This outing was turning out to be a far more rewarding experience than he had ever anticipated.
Without waking the young man, he said, "Good night, Gilbertus."
It is a stark fact of human existence that relationships change. Nothing is ever completely stable, not even from hour to hour. There are always subtle variances, alterations and adjustments that must be taken into account. No two moments are ever exactly alike in any respect.
—Serena Butler, Observations
Each of the big black constructors out on the frozen bog had a pair of human operators who sat side by side in high cages at the controls. Long hydraulic arms dipped into the icy material, scooping out thawed, spongy vegetable matter and loading it onto groundtrucks that came and went. The plains of Kolhar looked like a giant, stirred-up ants' nest.
After months of massive preparation and investment, the construction of the great shipyards was under way. During the brief warm season, the marshy flatlands came to life with flowers, thick weeds and algae, birds, and flying insects. This year would be different, however. From this day forth, the vast expanse would be home to gigantic ships whose engines could fold space. The landscape of Kolhar would be forever changed.
Standing on one edge of the bog, Aurelius Venport huddled against the chill wind, and pulled a furry hood tight around his face. A dusting of snow reflected brilliant whiteness in the morning sunlight, making him squint; he adjusted the dark filterplaz over his eyes.
The offworld construction workers wore similar attire. Venport watched them and wondered how much each moment of this huge effort was costing him. He had borrowed heavily through his diversified companies, leveraging his businesses. He had also sent well equipped teams to Arrakis to increase the spice output, now that Naib Dhartha had vanished, and the bandits had — for whatever reason — ceased to be a problem.
Everything to raise enough capital for this one enterprise. Norma's dream.
From his earliest commercial ventures with Rossak pharmaceuticals,
Venport had been a risk-taker. But nothing had ever come close to the scale of this. His knees felt weak when he thought about it. Still, despite the enormous expenses, his reliable instincts told him this was the correct decision. As always he found Norma compelling and enthusiastic. She had no deceit within her, only a phenomenal confidence. He trusted her vision implicitly.
This course of action would either ruin him or make him the wealthiest man in the universe. He saw no middle ground.
He devoted himself to the work here, leaving other VenKee representatives to keep an eye on the melange and other businesses. More than ever, he wished he knew what had happened to Tuk Keedair… After all this time, it seemed certain that his Tlulaxa partner had perished in the Poritrin massacres, just like so many hundreds of thousands of other unidentified victims. Now the risks, and the rewards, were Venport's own. And so was the company itself.
Kolhar's marshy plain extended to the horizon, but the vast structures Norma envisioned here seemed nearly as large. Every week, she took him out in a fast ground vehicle to show him the perimeter of each building. Before long, they would begin to build the actual spacefolder ships, following Norma's detailed plans.
From the bustling construction village came constant noises of machinery, vehicles emerging, engines growing louder and fading. Norma seemed to find the sounds reassuring, comforted to know that the work continued at all hours.
She scurried around the high plain, consulting with architects and construction managers, laying out additional structures and landing fields for her innovative space-folding ships. Her new, energized form had little need — or time — for sleep.
When she saw him inspecting the workfield, she hurried over to be with him. Despite her full schedule, Norma always managed to spare time and warmth for Aurelius. After greeting him with a warm embrace, she revealed the surprising, perfect reason for the attentiveness. "I have seen the thinking machines, and I do not want to become like them." She smiled at him now and, despite her amazing perfection, Venport could still detect the original uncertain girl beneath the skin. "I must allow myself time to be human."
He hugged her. "That's good, Norma." But it seemed to Venport that in her enhanced, beautiful state she was far beyond him — or any human. No one could ever match her abilities, or even come close. She defied comparison. Just like her mother.
"And to that end, I have allowed myself to conceive our first child."
He stared at her, too startled to ask questions, but she continued her explanations. "It seems a logical extension of what I intend to do. The sensations are unusual, but interesting. The child will be a male, I believe. I intend to make certain he is well-formed and healthy."
He did not need to inquire how she would do that. He had never pretended to understand all of the amazing things Norma could do both before and after her strange metamorphosi
s.
Recently, her mother had returned to her cave city on nearby Rossak for the last month of her pregnancy. Despite sophisticated new drugs that his own pharmaceutical operations had developed from native jungle growths, Zufa Cenva was concerned that something might still go wrong with her child fathered by Iblis Ginjo. She did not have Norma's powers of internal, cellular and chemical manipulation.
Venport still experienced mixed feelings whenever he looked at Zufa. On occasion during her time here at the shipyards, he had noticed a sadness in the tall Sorceress's pale, icy eyes when she looked at him. Long ago he had truly cared for her, but Zufa had always been scornful of him, preoccupying herself with other matters, expending all of her passion on the war effort and personal gratification, rather than on him…
Unlike Norma, thankfully.
Venport heard crackling, telekinetic explosions in the distance. Because of this unusual and extremely important venture, Zufa had summoned fourteen of her most powerful young Sorceress candidates to watch over the site while she was gone. The adept women provided additional safety as a "telepathic defense shield," roaming at large and watching for threats. Although mercenary guards watched the industries and approaches to the planet, the Sorceresses had skills the mercenaries did not.
Rumor had it that the cymeks were now at war with Omnius, but there could be no predicting the behavior of the hybrids. No predatory cymek would ever survive a probing strike here. No machine spy would steal the secrets of the Kolhar shipyards. Norma would not lose this venture, as she had lost her experimental complex on Poritrin.
Against any obstacles, it would succeed.
By the time her pregnancy progressed beyond its eighth month, Zufa Cenva wished she could do without men at all, inseminating herself and giving birth androgynously like the ancient goddess Sophia of Old Earth. But the Supreme Sorceress of the Jihad was hampered by the limitations of her mortal body. Her daughter Norma, with her burgeoning mental and creative powers, might be another matter.
The Machine Crusade Page 55
