Asimov’s Future History Volume 8

by Isaac Asimov

  Derec looked disgusted. “It’s our fault that Aranimas is here. I won’t leave the kin to pay for our mistake.”

  Avery nodded. “Right decision. I was just testing.”

  Derec’s face flushed red to the roots of his blond hair. “Will you kindly knock it off with this testing crap? Every time I turn around you’re testing, testing, testing! I am sick to death of being tested!”

  “Sorry.” Avery shrugged. “It’s a character flaw.”

  SilverSides caught up with the four of them as they started up the slidewalk to Central Hall. “Well, I’ve persuaded the mob to disperse,” she announced cheerfully as she bounded onto the slidewalk behind them.

  “How’d you manage that little feat?” Derec asked.

  SilverSides hung her head and looked at Derec with big puppy-dog eyes. “Er, actually I, uh, told them that the spirit of the FirstBeast was coming down from the sky, and that you two were only his representatives, not worth fighting. They’ve gone back to their dens to fetch their best weapons and prepare for a glorious battle.”

  “All right,” Avery said. “One crisis at a time. Derec, have the city supervisors managed to find Aranimas’s ship yet?”

  Derec activated his commlink for the barest moment. “Yes. They’re setting up a giant viewscreen in the atrium. Speaking of which —” He turned to SilverSides. “Uh, SilverSides? As you might remember, the Central Hall security robots are specifically programmed to seek out and destroy you in this form.”

  “Oh. Right.” With a shrug and a shudder, the robot invoked its shape-changing abilities. By the time they reached the top of the slidewalk, Adam was back as a silver copy of Derec.

  Gamma 6 greeted them as they came off the slidewalk and escorted them past the security robots and into Central Hall. Alpha and Beta were in the atrium, supervising the last details of setting up the giant screen. As they crossed the cold terrazzo floor of the cavernous room, Adam sped up a bit to catch up with Avery.

  “Friend Avery,” Adam said softly, with a hint of embarrassment in his voice. “I just wanted to assure you that I no longer feel confrontational. My earlier behavior was a side-effect of the SilverSides imprint, and I now realize that my thinking was in serious error. It will not happen again.”

  “Friend Adam,” Avery replied, every bit as softly, “that was your last mistake. I’m still packing the laser. Screw up again and you’re slag.”

  “I understand.”

  A few moments later they entered the atrium and came to a halt before Central’s main I/O console. The hall lights dimmed slightly, and the giant viewscreen flared to life.

  “We have located the Erani ship,” Beta said. The viewscreen took a dizzying swing through the local starfield and came to rest on a misshapen yellowish blob. Magnification jumped, and the by-now-familiar profile of Aranimas’s ship appeared. “In accordance with your request, we have scanned the ship for radioactive emissions. This area,” Beta used a red laser pointer to pick out one battered hull on the underside of the ship, “appears to contain a significant amount of plutonium, as well as other dangerously radioactive materials.”

  “That’s an ancient Terran dump ship,” Avery whispered. “They used to load them up with nuclear waste and fire them into their sun. Where the blazes did he find one of those?”

  “From the angle of approach and the condition of the hull,” Beta went on, “we have concluded that the dump ship is not capable of powered flight.” The starfield disappeared to be replaced by a colorful graphic showing the planet’s surface and two diverging flight paths. Cartoon spacecraft moved as Beta spoke. “Analysis indicates that the Erani intend to dive in at a steep angle, jettison the dump ship, and then use their planetary drives to veer off into a cometary orbit. The dump ship will make a simple unguided ballistic entry and strike the planet’s surface, creating a dead zone approximately one hundred kilometers in diameter.”

  “So much for evacuating the city on foot,” Adam noted.

  Derec took a step forward and looked closely at the dump ship’s flight path. “Won’t it burn up in the atmosphere?”

  “Owing to the steep angle of entry,” Beta said, “we compute that more than 70 percent of the ship’s mass will reach the planet’s surface intact. If the ship burns faster than we project, it will only increase the dispersion of the nuclear material and the size of the dead zone.”

  A different thought was nagging at Avery. “Unguided ballistic entry? What are the odds of a complete miss?”

  “Negligible. We compute that this method of attack has a potential targeting error of as much as ten kilometers, which still puts the city well within the dead zone. This calculation, of course, is based on the assumption that the dump ship is released at the optimum time.”

  “Which is?”

  “At the veer-off point, exactly twenty-three minutes and fifteen seconds from now.”

  Avery nodded. “I see. And if the ship is released early, the margin of error increases?”

  “At an exponential rate,” agreed Beta.

  “Then we can assume that they’ll stay on course until they drop.” Avery turned to the group and rubbed his hands together. “Okay, gang, that’s it in a nutshell. We have twenty-three minutes to find a way to either evacuate the city, speed up the planet’s rotation, or force Aranimas to delay the drop.”

  Derec wrinkled his nose. “Huh?”

  “Deflection shootin’,” Wolruf said. “Why d’ya think ‘ur seein’ ‘is ship in profile? ‘E’s aimin’ for where ‘e expects us t’ be in a ‘alf an ‘our.”

  “Right,” Avery agreed. “And if we can force Aranimas to delay the drop by even a few seconds —”

  “— He’ll have to veer off, and the planet’s rotation will carry us past his aiming point,” Derec completed. “The ship will strike somewhere off to the east.”

  Beta spoke up. “I feel obliged to point out that the result will still be an ecological disaster.”

  “Perhaps,” Adam said. “However, the bulk of the population from the eastern lakes country is now gathered in this city. Far more kin will survive if the ship strikes elsewhere.”

  “The greatest good for the greatest number,” Beta said, nodding. “This conforms to our programming.”

  “I’m glad you approve,” Avery said, as he pushed himself between the two robots. “Now if you don’t mind, we now have twenty-two minutes to come up with a brilliant idea.”

  The group fell silent as each of them lost him-or herself in private thoughts. Adam’s face began to reform, and he took on a somewhat canine aspect. Eve began to grow wing webbing between her arms and her body. Wolruf absent-mindedly scratched her ears.

  Derec scowled at his shoes and chewed on a thumbnail. “A pity these robots never built a Key Center,” he said at last. “If we had enough keys, we could just teleport the whole population out of danger.”

  Beta’s eyes flared brighter. “We may not have built a mass-production center, but we did build a small prototyping facility. How many keys would be sufficient?”

  Derec looked at Adam. “About five hundred,” the robot said.

  Beta’s eyes dimmed. “We have six.”

  Derec looked at his shoes again, then raised a finger. “Okay, next idea: How about if we use those keys to teleport six robots onto Aranimas’s ship, with instructions to find and sabotage the drop controls?”

  Avery answered with a sneer more eloquent than words. “These robots? They’re more likely to decide that the Erani are human and start following their orders.”

  Derec fell silent and retreated into his dark scowl.

  Long moments dragged past, and then Wolruf looked up. “‘Ere’s an idea. Aranimas doesn’t ‘ave any automatics; all ‘is controls are manual. ‘Ow ‘bout we strap a key t’ one of those giant lizards and teleport it onto ‘is bridge? That ought t’ keep ‘im busy.”

  Avery shook his head. “Wouldn’t work. Takes two key presses to teleport; one to get to Perihelion and another to leave Perih
elion and get to wherever you’re going.” Avery paused, and his eyes widened. “But say, here’s an idea-Beta, is it absolutely necessary for someone’s finger to be pressing the teleport button?”

  “If you wish to teleport, you must be in physical contact with the key.”

  “No, I mean, if you wanted to send the key on ahead without you.”

  Beta’s eyes flickered as he considered the problem. “A switch is a switch, “he announced at last. “It should be possible to build a timer that would allow you to activate the key and then release it.”

  “How long?”

  Beta swiveled his head to consider Avery. “I would expect that the length of the time delay —”

  “No, no. I mean, how long to put a ten-second timer on one of your existing keys?”

  Beta’s eyes dimmed as he conferred with the other supervisors. “We have never manufactured such a device before. Assuming no unforeseen difficulties, we estimate approximately twelve minutes.”

  “Good, get started.” Avery turned to Wolruf. “You say the release controls are probably on the bridge?”

  Wolruf looked up at Avery through her furry eyebrows. “‘U don’ know Aranimas. Th’ frosted Personal controls were on th’ bridge.”

  Avery nodded. “Perfect. Beta?” He turned to the robot. “I want two keys: a normal key programmed for this room, and a ten-second time-delay key programmed for the bridge of the Erani ship. Also, I need a timed analog heater that will reach 300 degrees Celsius in fifteen seconds.”

  “May I ask what for?”

  “To protect the native humans from certain harm. This is a critical First Law priority; I need these items within fifteen minutes. Do you understand?”

  The robot bowed slightly. “Absolutely, Creator Avery.’, His eyes dimmed as he relayed the commands. “The work has already begun.”

  “Excellent.” Avery turned to Derec and smiled gently. “And now, son, as long as we have a few minutes, what say we go find an automat and grab a bite to eat?”

  Derec’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  “Trust me, Derec,” Avery said, as he smiled through clenched teeth and winked like a groundcar’s turn signal, “we want to find an automat.”

  Slowly Derec caught on. “Oh, yeah, right.” Arm in arm, whistling benignly, Derec and Avery strolled out of Central Hall.

  A little later Derec and Avery were out in a darkened side street, standing before an open-air automat. As per Avery’s instructions, Derec was keeping watch for robots, while Avery kneeled before the manual control panel and frantically punched in a new set of instructions.

  “Why the cloak and dagger bit?” Derec whispered between sidelong glances. “Why couldn’t we just send a robot to fetch this?”

  “For the same reason that I told Beta to build a timed analog heater instead of a fuse,” Avery whispered back. “I don’t trust the city robots’ definition of human. They might decide that this violates the First Law.” The automat barked gently, and the serving door slid open to reveal Avery’s creation.

  “Five pounds of caramel?” Derec asked, his nose wrinkling.

  Gently, delicately, Avery slid the sticky block out of the automat and flipped it lightly from hand to hand, trying to avoid burning his fingers. “Ah, it may look like candy,” he whispered, a smile playing on his face, “but it’s actually a sixty-forty mix of white sugar and common saltpeter!”

  “So?”

  “Derec, Derec.” Avery stood up and shook his head. “Son, let me give you another little clue about your past. It’s a good thing that you’re a robotics genius, because you flunked Basic Chem twice. This little brick here,” the block had cooled enough for him to hold it in one hand, “is about the worst caramel you’ll ever taste, but it’s also a pretty effective substitute for black gunpowder.”

  Derec looked more closely at the brick and sniffed again. “Then why the hazelnuts?”

  “Shrapnel.” Avery took one last look at the brick and then slipped it into his jacket pocket. “How are the keys coming along?”

  Closing his eyes, Derec activated his commlink. “They’re programming the final set of coordinates now. The keys will be ready by the time we get back to Central Hall.”

  “Did they remember the baling wire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Avery took one last look up and down the street, then started back toward the Compass Tower. “Come on, son. We’re almost out of time.”

  Chapter 25

  DETONATION

  ADAM TOOK A step forward and raised his voice. “Friend Avery, I must protest. The First Law demands that I prevent you from placing yourself in such great danger!”

  Avery checked again to make sure that the bomb was wired tightly to the time-delayed key and turned to the robot. “You know the situation. In a few minutes this building is going to be ground zero of a hundred-kilometer dead zone. There’s no other option.”

  “But the risk to yourself —”

  “Who else could go?” Avery slipped the second key into his jacket pocket, then turned his attention to the fuse. “Derec is human. Wolruf is —” Avery grimaced and spat it out, “— human. And we can’t send a robot; too much risk of a First Law lockup at the crucial moment.”

  Adam’s eyes dimmed, and he swallowed hard. “I will go.”

  Avery shuddered, and his eyes went wide. “Adam, this is a bomb.” He shook the lump of caramel in Adam’s face. “All I’m hoping for is that it will distract Aranimas long enough for him to miss the drop window, but it may very well injure someone on his ship. Are you telling me that the Zeroth Law allows a robot to kill one human to save many?”

  Adam froze, and his eyes dimmed as he diverted all internal power to resolving this First Law dilemma. Avery connected the last two wires on the detonator, then dipped into his jacket pocket and handed the welding laser to Derec.

  “If the answer he comes up with is yes,” Avery said, jerking his head at Adam, “melt his brain.” In quick succession, he pressed the corners of the time-delay key. The teleport button popped up. With a firm, decisive move of his thumb, he pressed it down. “Wish me luck, son.”

  No sooner had he said this than Beta recovered from the First Law shock he’d gone into on hearing the word kill. “Creator Avery? That device is a weapon?” Beta lunged for the bomb.

  Avery vanished into thin air.

  Perihelion: the point in the universe nearest all other points in the universe. A cold, drifting, formless void; a space outside of space.

  “But not outside of time,” Avery said to himself. He looked at his watch. “Ninety seconds to drop. I wonder how things are going back in the universe?” He checked the detonator wiring again. It seemed to have survived the first jump in working order.

  Eighty seconds. Trusting the bomb to take care of itself for a minute, he let himself float back and take in the view of Perihelion.

  Not that it was much to look at. The gray lacked even the substance of fog. Nothing shifted, nothing moved, nothing changed. Ever. There was light, but no shadow; light, only because dark would have been a change.

  Avery drifted through Perihelion, and he smiled. There was a secret that he knew, and no one else did. Perihelion wasn’t just some nuisance, or by-product of the keys. It was the one critical thing that made teleportation possible.

  Perihelion was an infinite buffer.

  Sixty seconds. Avery touched the four corners of the time-delay key again, and watched as the teleport button slowly rose from the smooth, flawless surface.

  Consider the question of teleportation, Avery said to himself. In all the universe, there is no such thing as a body at rest. Planets rolled through their diurnal cycles and careened around their suns. Galaxies spun like dancers, trailing solar systems like glitter from their spiral arms, and even the universe was expanding, Cyclopean shrapnel flying out from the ancient epicenter of the Big Bang.

  Teleporting directly from one planet to another would be like leaping from a moving groundcar onto
a moving elevator. You’d arrive at your destination with kinetic energy enough to flatten you into a wet, greasy smear or propel you straight into orbit.

  Unless, of course, you had the buffer of Perihelion.

  He looked at his watch again. Thirty seconds. “Time to go.” With two quick jabs, he armed the detonator and pressed the teleport button. Pushing the bomb away from himself, he watched it float slowly away. The firing circuit began to glow a dull red.

  The drifting bomb slowed and stopped about two meters away. “Of course. Perihelion absorbed the kinetic energy.” Dipping into his jacket pocket, Avery pulled out the second key and touched its corners. The teleport button rose. He pushed it down.

  Nothing happened.

  Two meters away, the firing circuit was growing hotter. The dull red gave way to orange and then to yellow. Thin wisps of smoke began to rise from the brick of explosive. Too soon. It was going to detonate much too soon. Panic-stricken, Avery threw himself backward, flailing against the nothingness. A flare of hellish red light appeared around the detonator, and Avery had time to wonder if the buffer of Perihelion could contain that much kinetic energy.

  Then the bomb vanished.

  The rush of adrenaline faded, and Avery started to think logically again. “Of course. Two jumps. The first is always to Perihelion, and the second gets you where you’re going.” He touched the corners of the key again and pressed the teleport button.

  A blink later, he was back in Central Hall.

  “Dad!” Derec leapt forward and gave Avery a hug.

  “Sorry I’m late. What happened?”

  “‘Ur coordinates were a littl’ off,” Wolruf said. “Missed th’ bridge. Got a direct hit on th’ engine room instead.”

  Avery pushed Derec off and staggered toward the giant viewscreen. “Did they miss the drop? What are they doing now?”

  “See f’r yourself.” Wolruf stepped back and made a sweeping gesture to direct Avery’s attention to the screen.

  The Erani ship was nose-on in the view screen now, and obviously in trouble. Small fires danced and sparkled along the connecting tubes. Great flares and jets of flaming gas erupted from the sides. All at once, a fluorescing ring of blue energy leapt out from the stern and then contracted, seeming almost to pull the surrounding stars in after itself. Light red-shifted, and the stars flattened out into thin arcs. Space itself seemed to ripple and contract as the Erani warship shuddered and was abruptly jerked backward.