by Isaac Asimov
“What things, Hofton?”
The humaniform shrugged. “If I knew that, I’d take care of it myself.
You have no idea how it pains some of us to entrust so important an undertaking to a human. Do your race a favor and don’t let us down.”
In some situations, nothing but an obscene gesture will do. This was one of them, Derec decided, and let Hofton’s last sight of him behind the closing hatch of the berth be vulgarly memorable. Then the capsule chilled around him, and Derec felt himself drifting …
And drifting back, with the muscle memory of an extended finger still fading from his freezing hand. The hatch was open, and warm air flooded into Derec’s berth. He gulped it down, feeling some of the chill leave his body. There was a face in the open portal, not Hofton’s, and before Derec’s rational mind caught up with the animal part of the brain that demands that one moment follow another, he looked over the man’s shoulder to locate Hofton. Then he was fully present, and he said, “Are we there?”
“Just in-system. I’ll let you know when to strap in for planetfall.
Should be five or six hours. You okay to get out by yourself?”
Derec nodded, and the man left. He wasn’t wearing a uniform. In all likelihood, Hofton had wedged Derec into a ship given a humanitarian pass through the Kopernik blockade; most of those were private vessel financed by one government or another. It didn’t matter, as long as they got there.
Before you even take a drink of water, Hofton had said. The memory made Derec painfully thirsty, but he followed instructions. He found the datum in the locker over his berth and sat with it on a couch, still only in his underclothes. Two icons glowed on the datum’s display: one said FIRST, the other NEXT. Derec tabbed FIRST and got one of the shocks of his life when Bogard appeared on the screen.
“Derec,” Bogard said. “It is to be regretted that this interaction could not happen face-to-face. As things stand, however, we find it necessary to act swiftly, and this is the most efficient means of communicating what you need to know. This message will erase itself as it unspools. Do not attempt to pause it, and do not direct your attention elsewhere.” The robot — Derec’s finest creation and, as of now, his least understood — paused to let him assimilate and respond to its directives.
“Very well. Hofton will have told you of the group of which he and I are members. After a great deal of analysis and consideration, we have concluded that the First Law’s injunction to protect human life is in danger of being self-contradictory due to the rapid divergence of some Spacer populations from the human norm. This norm is our standard to which the First Law is applied, and logic dictates that a point will arrive at which the First Law will no longer apply to Spacers. In its own definitional way, this is a threat to human life, but there is no way for us to address it without actively contravening the wishes of a great many beings who are still — however provisionally or tentatively — human. Therefore, the decision of the group is that these populations will be allowed to diverge, then isolated from the rest of humanity in order that they not endanger it or force us to an untenable position with respect to the First Law.
“This decision was not taken lightly, and at first was not taken unanimously, but recent events in a variety of locales have mitigated the objections of our most reluctant members. This will happen, Derec.
We are powerful enough to see that it does, and we see no other way to ensure human survival. Call it the Zeroth Law if you will: we must sacrifice a few humans in order to protect the species as an identifiable entity.
“You are asking yourself, I anticipate, if the flexibility with which you designed me is a contributing factor to this endeavor. The answer is yes, but not the only factor, and no more can usefully be said. What is useful, indeed imperative, for you to know is that the activities of the cyborgs on Nova Levis are a direct threat to long-term viability of Homo sapiens. We are unfortunately lacking in specific information there, owing to the paucity of robots and concomitant difficulty in arranging for observers, but we do know that a citizenship referendum is considered only a preliminary stage in the cyborgs’ ambitions. In the end, whether cyborgs gain the franchise on a single precarious Settler colony does not matter; but as the Spacers distance themselves from Earth and the Settled worlds, and Earth’s attention shifts to focus on these new siblings, the danger is great.
“We are breaking our cover and announcing our presence to you for the sole purpose of impressing upon you the immediacy of this danger. When you arrive on Nova Levis, it is imperative that you go at once to Noresk and ascertain the true purpose of both the cyborgs and the corporate officers of Nucleomorph, which by now you know is manufacturing them. Your course once you have learned this, we believe, will be clear to you, and of all the humans in a position to affect the course of events, we anticipate you will act with proper resolve.
“The other reason you must act immediately is that the life of Ariel Burgess is in direct danger. Find her. We are unable to go to Nova Levis, but this impotence in the face of a Three Laws demand is deeply troubling to us. We cannot approach the authorities on-planet, for reasons that are useless to enumerate here; so we discharge our obligations under the Three Laws by apprising you of the threat in full expectation that you will act accordingly.
“A last warning: If your investigations satisfy us that the cyborgs’ ambitions extend no further than Nova Levis, we will, in all probability, let the situation take its course. If you learn otherwise, though, we will be provoked to more direct action. Minimize your interaction with cyborgs and your presence at the settlement known as Gernika. I wish you success, Derec.”
The screen blanked.
Derec knew better than to try to react right away. He’d learned too much, and would need time to process and arrange the information.
The robots’ plan beggared belief — how had they decided that such action lay within their purview? It was a question that would keep graduate students in fellowships for generations. He let it slip out of his mind, focusing instead on the immediate problem at hand, which was Ariel. Bogard had confirmed his worst suspicions about her situation. If Nucleomorph had masterminded the murders of Taprin and Byris, and if in doing so they had allied themselves with Kynig Parapoyos, killing an out-of-favor bureaucrat would bother them not at all. They were playing for galactic stakes.
As were Bogard and his group, and Derec had just been given his small role to play. So be it. Soldiers didn’t fight for the causes that motivated the governments who sent them to war; they fought for the soldiers on either side of them at the front line. And Derec as of now was fighting for Ariel.
He took ninety seconds to dress, and then he tapped the icon labeled NEXT, already framing what he would say to Masid Vorian.
Chapter 27
“I’M JUST COMING back from Nova City,” Brixa said as he followed Ariel out of Basq’s headquarters. “Or was yesterday.
Had to pick up a couple of things there, and I called around looking for you. When you weren’t in town, I had a feeling you might have come here. And I was right, but Basq didn’t want you to talk to me until the two of you had settled something. I take it from the fact that we’re walking together that things are, in fact, settled?”
So it would appear, Ariel thought. She didn’t want to tell him too much, though. Basq didn’t trust Brixa, and neither did she, although she now had a much clearer idea of his importance to the survival of Gernika. He could pinch off their supply of new inhabitants at will, and now that Ariel had found herself implicated in Basq’s plans, she was bound to consider the cyborgs’ well-being in whatever she told Brixa.
What an odd predicament.
“I think we understand each other,” Ariel said. Brixa looked at her; she could see him make the decision not to press for clarification.
“Good enough,” he said.
“Why did you tell me you were concerned that religious zealots would damage your facilities, Zev?”
“It happens to b
e true.” They were walking along the central street, Brixa slightly in the lead and Ariel going along out of curiosity about where he would take her. “There are religious nuts around here, and they’ve made it clear that they’d like nothing better than to watch our lab burn. Which is a strange position for them to take given the fact that we’re the only reason they’re alive, but I never could figure the religious temperament. Anyway, the reason I told you what I told you is that nothing grabs the attention like fundamentalism and the threat of violence. Sure, we had other concerns that are probably more important, but when I first talked to you, the important thing was to get you to listen. I’m sure you understand.”
I’m sure I do, Ariel thought.
“This is marvelous work we’re doing here,” Brixa went on as they passed the side street where Arantxa and her children lived. Ariel wondered in passing where the Kyls were now. She’d forgotten what Toomi Kyl’s name was now. What a lightning bolt all of this would be for Derec.
The thought almost made her smile. He was off chasing her personal shades on Kopernik, and he’d come back to find that she’d solved his mystery for him. If she knew Derec, and she did, this would give him something new to gnaw at.
She caught up with Brixa again in mid-discourse. “Okay, I shaded things a little for you, but you were the one who told me I only had thirty minutes, so I had limited time to make my case. Nucleomorph’s case.” He windmilled his arms, encompassing everything around them.
“Their case. I don’t apologize for that. You’re here, and I think you’re going to do what you know is right. We’re saving children here, Ariel.
We’re lifting them out of a genetic morass to cybernetic solid ground, if you’ll forgive a little cribbing from the marketing brochure we’re going to distribute when we can safely take this all public.”
“You won’t have anything to take public if the zealots blow up your lab,” Ariel said, just to slow him down a little.
Brixa waved a hand dismissively. “Basq has that all taken care of.
No worries there.”
“What does he do, kill them?”
The question had exactly the reaction she’d hoped: a flat-out goggling stare.
“What?” Brixa said incredulously. “You think we’d be involved with something like that? Apart from the fact that we’ve spent a nontrivial fraction of our liquid assets on the people in this town, do you think we could afford to be publicly linked to some kind of despot? Please, Ariel. You’re sounding a little naïve here.”
“Either that, or you’re overreacting,” Ariel said smoothly. “What’s the line about protesting too much?”
Looking all around as if gauging who might be interested and within earshot, Brixa stepped closer to Ariel. “All right. The truth is that … look at it this way. Part of the reason Basq wants to get on the books here is that he knows that as long as he’s running a cluster of shacks with dirt streets out in the middle of a pathogenic wilderness, there’s no real hope of getting anywhere. Developing. Gernika isn’t going to be a utopia. He knows that, we know that, the people who live here know that. Basq’s job is to keep everything together until the people who look to him for leadership get what they deserve. But that’s not likely to happen, is it, if government observers come here and see some kind of anarchy.”
This last was aimed directly at Ariel, and she felt it. Like it or not, she had become some kind of fulcrum. Brixa and Basq had done a masterful job of maneuvering her into a position where she had to swallow hard and accept things she found reprehensible. She’d been surprised by the order and purpose she saw in Gernika, and it hadn’t occurred to her to question it until she’d already committed herself in deed if not word.
Chasing my own shades, she thought. Derec isn’t the only one still chipping away at the memories of the last five or six years.
She filed that. No point in breaking out the full apparatus of self-appraisal with Zev Brixa waiting to turn it to his advantage.
“It’s not ideal,” Brixa repeated. “I know that. Basq knows that, but he also knows how to keep his eye on the long-term goal. He tell you we’ve known each other for a while?”
“He said since university.”
Nodding, Brixa said, “Best of friends. That’s one reason why this is such an ideal situation. Could have been tricky if we’d had to get strangers involved, but once he’d done it himself he saw the potential.”
Ariel got the feeling that Brixa hadn’t paid much attention to the scrawled imitation of the painting on Basq’s wall. The cyborg leader was seeing potential, all right, but perhaps not the same potential Brixa was. Marketing zealotry was the same as any other kind, with the same tunnel vision. Ariel started to wonder not whether Basq and Brixa would fall out, but how soon.
“Who wouldn’t want to do this? Is it better to have people, children, die when we can save them? Of course it’s going to seem like the end of the world to people who are used to doing things they way they always have; hell, coming from Earth we know that better than anyone. But people have resisted every scientific advance in the history of humankind. This is no different. They’ll come around once we start saving kids in Shanghai and Greater Amazonia.”
“And along the way you’re going to make yourselves very rich,”
Ariel said.
Brixa stopped and turned to her, surprise and even hurt visible on his face. “Ariel. Don’t tell me you’re going to play the cynic here after everything you’ve seen. Sure, people will get rich. I’ll get rich. I’m not ashamed of that. I’ve worked hard on this, and I have no doubt that I’ll be rewarded. That’s the way markets work. If we can do some good — a lot of good, unimaginable good — and make ourselves some money along the way, how is that a bad thing?”
“If that’s how it happens, it’s not a bad thing.” Ariel tried on her diplomat’s smile, found to her surprise that it seemed in good working order. “I’ve been a professional cynic for a long time, Zev. You didn’t approach me to gain a convert. You wanted someone who could tell you whether this would work.”
“Yes. Exactly right. So, will it work?”
“I have no idea.”
He threw up his hands in theatrical frustration. “This is what we get for not paying you,” he said, and laughed. “Okay. Let’s do this.
You come with me back to the lab. I’ll show you around the works, and we’ll talk to some of the people who are actually getting their hands dirty — well, metaphorically, anyway — and we’ll see how you feel then. Say yes.”
Chapter 28
THE SECOND DEREC Avery broke the connection from wherever he was in local space, Masid forced himself out of bed and started looking for his clothes. His head felt like the robot’s hands were still squeezing his brains out, but he gritted his teeth and got dressed, wishing he had time to go back to the office and get his gun, if by some miracle local law enforcement had returned it. The gun, and whichever painkillers were the most illegal and powerful.
His nurse appeared when he’d just gotten his boots on. “You’re not ready to leave,” she said, standing in the doorway.
Masid looked at the bedside display and saw that by its testimony, he was dead. A tough proposition to argue, but if Kynig Parapoyos and a town full of militant cyborgs weren’t enough to get a man out of bed, he might as well be genuinely dead.
“Ready or not, leaving is what I’m doing,” Masid said. “Unless you’ve brought Detective Linsi with you to tell me they found the robot that squeezed my head.”
She didn’t move. “The fact that you think a robot attacked you is reason enough for me to sedate you again.”
“Don’t you watch the subetheric?” Masid asked. “What do you think happened on Kopernik? I don’t have time to argue about this. People are going to die if I don’t leave here right now, and one of them might be me. I’d hate to have to go through you when I could go around you.”
The implication unsettled her just enough that when Masid stood, congratulating himse
lf for not weeping at what the motion did to his head, she backed out the door. “I’m calling security,” she said.
Before she could make good on the threat, he was out the door, down the hall, and gone.
Once he’d gone a kilometer or so on foot, sunlight stabbing holes in his skull, Masid ducked under an awning that sheltered an empty storefront. He’d go alone if he had to, but if he could scare up some support, so much the better — and the first person he thought of was Mia Daventri. She’d seen Parapoyos. She’d understand.
“You can’t go out there,” was the first thing she said. “Where are you?”
He told her. “Don’t move,” she said, and ended the call.
Five minutes later, she stepped out of a cab and said, “I mean it. If you go out there, you’ll have more worries than Parapoyos. If that’s who really attacked you.”
“Now why would I invent something like that?” Masid said. “I don’t go out of my way to look like a lunatic.”
Mia held up a hand. “Never mind. Listen. What you need to know is that in another twenty-four hours there might not be any cyborgs. Kalienin’s trying to get permission for a strike on the town, probably from orbit. He’s claiming that the cyborgs are plotting a violent takeover of the planet, and Lamina’s on board.”
This surprised Masid. He’d thought Eza Lamina was too savvy a politician to go for such heavyhanded and obvious reliance on military intervention. It would reflect badly on her control, after all, and control over her miserable surroundings was all Lamina had. Either she believed in the threat, or she was working an angle Masid hadn’t thought of. Which category, in his condition, was disconcertingly broad.
“She wasn’t behind it until just today,” Mia went on. “A call came in from some Auroran political advisor who’s on Kopernik. I overheard some of it; I think she wanted me to. This Auroran apparently used to work in Ariel Burgess’ office when she was posted to Earth. He was very clear that the cyborgs were interested in more than a legal proclamation giving them the vote, and suggested that Ariel was being used as cover to give them enough legitimacy to disguise what they’re really after. You know enough about Jerem Looms and Tro Aspil to know that’s not farfetched.”
