Asimov’s Future History Volume 6

by Isaac Asimov

  But for what?

  Derec did use them. He did not know why, nor did he know exactly how he used them. He mixed the contents of the plastic packages into the machinery when it seemed appropriate; in fact, he rebuilt the machines when it was appropriate. Again, he did not know exactly why or how he accomplished this. It was only a dream, after all.

  And when he was done he stood at the edge of the square and looked upon the opening he had made in the fabric of the universe. Inside he saw clusters of galaxies swirling, moving apart in a stately, steady flow. Gradually, they moved beyond his point of view, but instead of leaving utter blackness in their wake, they left a blinding white light.

  Derec happily stepped inside the light. It was time to awaken, for now he knew how to reach Canute.

  Chapter 12

  THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING

  “WAKE UP, MY lad,” came the voice of Dr. Avery from behind the veil of blackness. “The time has come to join the land of the living.”

  Derec opened his eyes. Dr. Avery’s face hovered over him, going in and out of focus. Avery’s expression was as neutral as his tone had been sardonic. Derec sensed they were both calculated; the constant light burning in the doctor’s eyes was under control only with effort.

  “What happened to me?” Derec asked hoarsely. “What did you do to me?”

  “The Hunter robots knocked out you and your friends with a dose of nerve gas. The effects were temporary, I assure you, and there will be no aftereffects. I had to assure the Hunters of that, too, just as I had to convince them that you three would be more safely moved through the narrow corridors if you were unconscious. You see, I know these robots, and can justify much to them that you would never dream of.”

  “Where are my friends?”

  Avery shrugged. “They’re around.” He must have thought better of that answer, because then he said, and not unkindly, “They’re here in the lab. You can’t see them yet because your vision hasn’t cleared.”

  “Where’s Mandelbrot? You haven’t — haven’t dismantled him, have you?”

  Avery solemnly shook his head. “No. That would have been a waste of some fine workmanship. You’re quite a roboticist, young man.”

  “I suppose I should be flattered.”

  “I suppose you should be, too.”

  Derec closed his eyes in an effort to obtain a better idea of his bearings. He knew he was lying down, but his position was definitely not horizontal. The problem was, he couldn’t tell as yet if his head was tipped up or down. Closing his eyes, however, turned out only to make matters worse. He felt like he had been strapped to a spinning wheel of fortune. He tried to move.

  “I want to stand up,” he said. “Untie me.”

  “Strictly speaking, you’re not tied down. You’re being held down by magnetized bars at your wrists and ankles.” Avery held up a portable device with a keyboard. “This will demagnetize the bars, releasing you, but only I know the code.”

  Derec felt ridiculously helpless. “Could you turn down the lights, at least? They’re hurting my eyes.”

  “I know I really shouldn’t care,” said Avery, looking away. “Canute!” he called out, and the glare diminished.

  It was immediately easier for Derec to see. The light grid was several meters above his head. He glanced to his right to see Ariel still asleep on a slab, also held down by magnetized bars. Beyond her was a battery of computers and laboratory equipment and various robotic spare parts — not to mention a compliant Canute dutifully overseeing a chemical experiment of some kind.

  On Derec’s left, Wolruf lay face-down on a slab. Also out cold. Her tongue hung limply from her mouth.

  A closed-down Mandelbrot stood nearby against the wall, looking like a statue, an eerie statue that Derec half expected to come to life at any moment. Indeed, he thought about ordering Mandelbrot to awaken, but he was too afraid Avery had already planned for that contingency. In any case, he did not wish to see his friend again suffer from the feedback Avery had brought on with his electronic disrupter.

  “Thanks for turning down the lights,” said Derec. “Are my friends well?”

  “As well as they were. I really must compliment you, young man. You’re really quite resourceful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Even when you were unconscious, you were able to resist my truth serums. You babbled incessantly, but I got little information of any value out of you.”

  “Maybe that’s because I’ve none to give. I didn’t ask to be stranded here, you remember.”

  “I shall strive to keep that in mind,” said Avery wearily. He sighed as if near exhaustion.

  Derec certainly hoped that was the case. Now that would be something he could turn to his advantage.

  “Did you find out anything about my identity while I was out?” he asked.

  “I was not concerned with your personal matters. I merely wished to know how you had sabotaged the character of my robots.”

  Derec could not resist laughing. “I’ve done nothing to your robots or to your city, unless you could count saving it from a programming flaw. Any mistakes in your design are your own, Doctor.”

  “I don’t make mistakes.”

  “No, you’re simply not used to making them. But you make them, all right. If nothing else, you accomplished more than you intended. Your meta-cells are capable of duplicating protein organizational functions on a scale unprecedented in the study of artificial life-forms. The interaction between the constant shifts of the city and the logic systems of the positronic brain seems to liberate the robot brain from its preconceived conceptions of its obligations. And if what’s happening to Mandelbrot’s mind is any indication, the end results are infectious.”

  “I doubt it. Maybe your robot is just stewed from incompatibility with the city’s meta-lubricant.”

  “You’re grasping at neutrons!” said Derec, futilely trying to kick off the bars over his feet and succeeding only in twitching his toes. “Isn’t it more reasonable to assume that the environmental stress of the replication crisis — caused by a bug in your own programming — triggered the emergence of abilities latent in all robots of a sufficiently advanced design?”

  Avery thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “Explain.”

  “There’s no precedent for Robot City. There’s never been another society of robots without humans.

  Different things were already happening before Ariel and I got here, things that had never even been imagined before.”

  “What kinds of things?” Avery was studiously blasé.

  “I’m sure you saw them from your office in the Compass Tower,” Derec said. He was rewarded with a raised eyebrow from Dr. Avery. “Oh, yes, we’ve been up there. I’ve also been to the central core, and I’ve talked to the chief supervisors. Your robots decided to study humanity in order to serve it better.

  Robots don’t usually do that. They even tried to formulate Laws of Humanics to try to understand us. I’ve never heard of robots doing that before.”

  “And I suppose you have a theory as to why this is happening.”

  “A couple.” Derec started to count the points off on his fingers, but it didn’t work in his position. “First, the stress of the replication crisis. It was a survival crisis comparable to the ice ages of prehistoric Earth.

  The robots were forced to adapt or perish. My interference helped end the crisis, but also helped shape the adaptation.

  “Second, the actual isolation of Robot City. Without any humans around, evolutionary steps that would have been halted were allowed to continue: the study of the Laws of Humanics, for one example; robots getting accustomed to taking an initiative, for another. These changes not only survived, they flourished.

  They’ve become part of the ingrained positronic pathways of the robots here. Even the primitive early microchips went into something like a dream state when they weren’t in use. Now we’re seeing what happens when we don’t wake them up forcibly.”

  “These thi
ngs you’re telling me don’t prove a thing. They’re theories, nothing more. They certainly don’t constitute empirical proof.” Avery stifled a yawn.

  “Oh? I’m boring you, am I?”

  “Excuse me. No, you’re not boring me at all. You’re actually quite interesting for a young man, though your charming ideas about robots and reality positively reek of your inexperience. That’s to be expected though, I suppose.” Again he patted the bar across Derec’s feet.

  Derec scowled. One thing was certain. He could deal with Avery’s mental instability, he could tolerate the man’s arrogance, but the man’s condescending tenderness nauseated him to the core of his being.

  And not for any reason that Derec could discern. That was just the way it was. He couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever had anything to do with Avery at some time during his dim, unremembered past.

  “So what information did you get out of me?”

  Avery laughed. “Why should I tell you?”

  “Because I’ve nothing to hide. Only you are insisting that I should be hiding things. You don’t ask my robot questions — you incapacitate him. You don’t ask the other robots questions — you ignore them. You ask me questions but you only half believe my answers. You treat my friends like they were — they were mere inconveniences.”

  “I’m afraid that’s exactly what they are,” said Avery not unkindly.

  “But — but I thought you created this place to learn about the kind of social structure robots would create on their own.”

  “Perhaps I did, and perhaps not. I see no reason why I should trust you with my motivations.”

  “But aren’t you interested in our observations?”

  “No.”

  “Not even those of Ariel Welsh, the daughter of your financial backer?”

  “No.” Avery glanced in Ariel’s direction. “Parents and their children are rarely close on Aurora.”

  “You’ve heard of her, but you don’t want to help her? Aren’t you concerned in the least for her?”

  “She is now an outsider in the eyes of Spacer society, and hence is basically an inconsequential individual. I suppose in an earlier, more idealistic time, I would have sacrificed some of my time and resources to assist her, but time has recently become a precious commodity to me, too precious to waste on a single human life out of billions and billions. My experiments are at a sensitive stage, anyway. I can’t afford to trust any of you.”

  “It’s yourself that you don’t trust,” said Derec.

  Avery smiled. “And just how did you, who know so much about robots but so little about men, manage to figure that out?”

  Derec sighed. “It’s just a feeling, that’s all.”

  “I see.” Avery turned toward Canute and signaled the ebony with his finger.

  In a moment, both Avery and Canute were leaning over the prone Derec. Already Derec could perceive there was something different in Canute’s demeanor... something missing. The old polite arrogance and self-confidence were gone, replaced or suppressed with a subservient manner that might have been willing, or might have been only what Avery expected of him.

  “Are you well, Master Derec?” asked Canute in even tones.

  “As well as can be expected. You’re strong, Canute. Why don’t you pull off my bonds?”

  “I fear that, while I might be able to succeed should I make the attempt, it is otherwise impossible,”

  replied the robot.

  “Why, ‘Master Derec,’ I expected better of you,” said Avery. “So long as you are not harmed, Canute has no choice but to follow my orders. They take precedence over any you might conceive.”

  “I was just checking,” said Derec. “But how do you know that lying here isn’t causing me grave harm?”

  Avery appeared shocked, but Canute answered before he could. “I do not. I simply must take Dr.

  Avery’s word that no injury will come to you as a result of your restraint.”

  “How does it feel to be a robot, Canute?”

  “That question is meaningless!” exclaimed Avery with a derisive snort. “He has nothing to make a comparison to!”

  Canute turned toward Avery; a familiar red glow was returning to his visual receptors. “Forgive me, Dr.

  Avery, but I must beg to differ with you. I do have something to compare the sensation of being a robot to, because after having spent the past few weeks attempting to imitate the actions of a fictional human being, I have some notion, however vague, of what it may be like to be that human being. From that base I may extrapolate what it might feel like to be the genuine article.”

  “I see,” said Avery, nodding in a manner that indicated he believed none of this, and that he wouldn’t be taking it too seriously if he did. He glanced at Derec. “Who’s grasping at neutrons now, young man?”

  “What else can I do while I’m stuck here?”

  Avery smiled. Derec was beginning to dislike that smile intensely. “I can’t fight logic like that,” said the doctor, stifling a yawn.

  “Master Dr. Avery, are you verging upon the state of exhaustion?” Canute asked.

  “Why yes, I am. I’ve been awake for some time now — in fact, since I left — no, I won’t say. There’s no reason for any of you to know.”

  “Might I suggest you take refuge and sleep? It may be quite harmful for you to remain awake long past your body’s stamina quotient.”

  Another yawn. “That’s a good idea.” A third yawn. “You’d like me to leave, wouldn’t you?”

  “Only because of your halitosis.”

  “Ha-ha. You seek to hide your true designs behind a mask of frivolity. No matter. I shall take up Canute’s suggestion. I’ll decide what to do with you four after I awake.” He took a step to leave, then turned to Canute. “Under no circumstances are you to touch the bars restraining our friend Derec unless I am physically present in this room, understand? That is a direct order.”

  “What if I have to go to the bathroom?” said Derec.

  “You won’t. We’ve already taken care of your elimination needs.”

  What did they do? thought Derec. Dehydrate my bladder? This guy’s a bigger genius than I figured.

  “Sir, there is the possibility that other forms of physical harm may come to Master Derec and the others if they remain bound too long.”

  “They’re young; they’re strong. They should be able to handle it.”

  Canute bowed his head. “Yes, Master Dr. Avery.”

  And Avery left. Suddenly Derec felt his heart pounding excitedly, and he struggled to calm down. The next conversational tack he took had to appear casual, otherwise the crafty Canute, who after all would regard obeying the orders from Dr. Avery as the most important guide to its words and deeds, would see through Derec’s plan.

  Derec hoped it was a clever plan. He waited several minutes while Canute continued about its tasks, and when he believed enough time had elapsed for Avery to have gone to his sleeping quarters, he said,

  “Canute, I would like to speak with you.”

  “That would be quite acceptable, Master Derec, but I must warn you in advance that I will be on the lookout for any clever ploys on your part to talk me into releasing you.”

  “Don’t worry, Canute. I know when to quit.”

  “Forgive me, but while you may believe that statement to be true, the reality lies elsewhere.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Neither flattery nor insult was intended.”

  “Can I speak to you while I’m waiting for Avery or my friends to wake up?”

  “Certainly, if it pleases you. However, I trust our impending conversation will have nothing to do with your belief that I was responsible for the demise of Lucius.”

  Derec smiled. “Certainly, if you prefer. But what difference would it make to you?”

  “None, really — only that for some reason I find the subject causes my thoughts to drag, as if it somehow bogs down my circuits’ positron flow.”

/>   “Interesting, but never fear. I thought I would find proof and did not, so don’t worry about it. Besides, it would seem I would have more pressing matters on my mind than Lucius, anyway.”

  “Yes, so it would seem,” said Canute.

  “Yes. Well, it seemed that while Dr. Avery was perusing my mind, I had a curious dream. It gave me a lot to think about.”

  “Master Derec, do you think I am the proper entity with whom to discuss such matters? Human dreams are hardly my forte.”

  “That’s all right — I’m certain the field is not mine, either. But my dreams gave me a lot of questions, and I’d like to see how an entity possessing your own special strain of logic responds to them.”

  “Certainly. I fail to see how any harm could result from an attempt, however feeble, to put your mind at ease on these matters.”

  “Yes. It may even do me some good.”

  “I shall endeavor to help you achieve that result.”

  “Well, Canute, you know that life began in the stew of Earth ‘s ocean as a series of chemical reactions.

  The raw materials for life were present on other worlds as well, but until recently there was no evidence that the stew had worked on any other worlds.”

  “Are you referring to Wolruf and the master who once employed her as an unwilling servant?”

  “Yes. Two examples from two alien cultures, two other worlds where the stew came to fruition — and they’re not even native to this galaxy. But the comparatively scarce number of worlds where life has originated really isn’t the point, though I hope it amplifies it.”

  “What is the point?”

  “That although the universe itself isn’t a conscious entity, it possesses the raw materials that, when properly set into motion, create consciousness. It has the ability to create intelligent life, which is capable of understanding the universe.”