Asimov’s Future History Volume 8

by Isaac Asimov

  He stopped in the Personal on the way out, then met Wolruf on her way back to the kitchen with an empty plate. “I’m going up to the top of the tower to check on Adam and Eve and Lucius,” he told her... Want to come along?”

  Wolruf considered the question a moment, then nodded.

  “Sure.” She set her plate down on the counter, where it melted down into the surface and disappeared, leaving only a few crumbs of food, which migrated toward the disposal chute as the countertop moved beneath them.

  “How about you?” Derec asked Ariel as they entered the living room. “Want to go for another walk?”

  She shook her head and held up her book reader. “No, thanks; I’m kind of interested in this right now.”

  “All right.” Derec glanced over to Mandelbrot, standing in his niche in the wall behind Ariel, but decided to leave him with her. He could always call him — or any other robot — over his comlink if he needed help with anything.

  Leaving the apartment, he and Wolruf entered a wide, high-ceilinged, gently curving corridor that led them after a few turns to an open atrium from which branched dozens of other corridors like the one leading to their apartment. Had there been other people on the planet, this would have been a neighborhood park, full of children playing and robots worrying that they would hurt themselves, but now it was silent, empty.

  They moved through the atrium to the main corridor, this one straight and with slidewalks leading off into the distance in either direction. All up and down the walls were more atria and more neighborhoods identical to their own. They would no doubt be modified to suit the individual tastes of their inhabitants, if ever they got any, but until that time their most significant difference was in the addresses written in bold letters overhead. Those addresses — three three-digit numbers each — grew smaller to the left, but the slidewalks moved to the right; Derec and Wolruf took an elevated walkway over the slidewalks to the other side of the corridor, stepped on the first of the moving strips, and worked their way toward the faster lanes.

  Despite all the machinery that must have been necessary to keep the strips moving, the ride was nearly silent. They heard only the gentle breeze of their passage, abated somewhat by windscreens placed every few dozen meters on the faster strips. A group of four robots passed them going the other way, but otherwise they were alone.

  “It feels even emptier than before,” Wolruf commented. “I wonder w’ere all the robots are?”

  “Holding up birds’ nests, I suppose,” Derec said. “I imagine keeping the ecosystem going takes a lot more of their time than maintaining the city.”

  “Probably so.”

  The three parts to the addresses over the doorways indicated the level, then the north-south coordinate, then the east-west coordinate. Derec and Wolruf rode on down the corridor until the second part of the addresses dwindled to zero, then switched over to another slidewalk running ninety degrees to the first and followed it until the third part zeroed out as well. That put them directly beneath the center of the Compass Tower. Stepping off the slidewalk at a bank of elevators, they entered one and ordered it to take them to the top.

  The door opened to a biting wind. The sky was overcast, and the air smelled of rain. Derec marveled at how quickly the weather had changed, but he supposed with the new forest transpiring so much more moisture into the atmosphere than the city had, some of it was bound to rain back out, probably on a daily basis.

  The wrecked starship wasn’t visible through the elevator door, so Derec stepped out, holding onto the jamb for support, and peered around first one side and then the other, but the ship wasn’t there. The rectangular elevator box was the only feature on the entire acres-wide expanse of roof surface.

  “It’s already gone!” he shouted to be heard over the wind. Stepping back inside, he waited until the door closed before adding, “I’ll ask where they took the robots.”

  Focusing his attention on his internal link, Derec sent, Central computer, what is the present location of robots Adam, Eve, and Lucius? Lucius II, he amended before it could query him about it.

  Unable to locate, the computer responded. Its voice in his mind had no vocal origin, but the input went in along the same nerves, so it sounded like a voice to Derec. It was quiet, echoless, and inhuman, but it was nonetheless a voice.

  What do you mean, unable to locate? They’ve got to be somewhere.

  I do not receive their power signature on any of my scans, the computer insisted.

  “Central claims it can’t find them,” Derec said aloud. “What do you bet they’re hiding from us?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Wolruf growled. The robots had run away from their human masters before, when they had matters they wished to discuss in private.

  Where did you last observe them? Derec asked Central.

  That information is unavailable. Unavailable? Why?

  I was instructed to forget that location. Derec arched his eyebrows.

  “What?” Wolruf asked.

  “It won’t tell me where it last saw them. Says it was told to forget.” Derec didn’t bother to ask it to remember again; a robot might have been able to dredge a forgotten memory back out of storage by the way it affected other memories, since a positronic brain was an analog device, but Central’s memories were digital, each one separate and stored in peripheral memory cubes.

  “So tell it not to forget next time,” Wolruf said.

  “Right.” Next time you observe them, remember their location, Derec sent. And alert me that you’ve found them.

  Acknowledged.

  “Looks like they out-thought me again,” Derec said with a sigh. “Elevator, take us back down.”

  The elevator obediently began its descent. About halfway down, Wolruf said, “‘Ow about Avery? ‘Ave you seen him since we got here?”

  “Uh-uh,” Derec answered, “but that’s no surprise. He was pretty mad at me.”

  “He might know where the robots are.”

  “Yeah, he might.” Derec hesitated. Was it worth the harangue he was likely to get from Avery just to find out where the robots had gone? He didn’t think it was, but on the other hand he was going to have to patch things up with him eventually anyway, and the question would provide a convenient excuse to talk with him.

  Nodding to Wolruf, he sent, Open a link with Dr. Avery.

  I am unable to contact him, the computer replied.

  Why not? Where is he?

  Unable to locate.

  Derec rolled his eyes. “Not again.”

  “What?”

  “It can’t find Avery, either.”

  “That sounds a little suspicious.”

  “Doesn’t it, though? I think maybe I ought to start poking around in the computer a little bit and see what all this sudden secrecy is about.”

  The elevator door opened, revealing the central transport station. Wolruf stepped out first, looked up and down the long expanse of slidewalk, and said, “Tell you w’at. W’ile you’re doing that, I’ll look around out here. I don’t feel like going back to the apartment just yet.”

  The chances of Wolruf’s finding anything were practically nonexistent, but Derec knew what she was really after. He nodded and slapped her on the back. “Have at it,” he said. “I’ll call you if I find anything.”

  “I’ll do the same,” Wolruf promised, stepping on the nearest slidewalk and letting it carry her away.

  Derec took the overhead ramp and rode the walks back to the apartment. To pass the time he started to whistle a tune, one Ariel had been playing for background music on the ship a few days earlier, but the echoes in the empty corridor soon defeated him and he rode the rest of the way in silence.

  Janet looked at the apartment with a disdainful eye. Basalom had landed the ship in a clearing in the forest about twenty kilometers north of the Compass Tower and had then used his comlink to ask the city to let them in and provide them with lodging, but Janet wondered now if she would have been better off staying in
the ship. This place was about as unique as a ball bearing, with all the personality of a brick. No, less than that. Bricks at least had cracks; this apartment was seamless

  “This place is perfectly, absolutely Avery”, she muttered to Basalom as he carried her overnight bag into the bedroom and placed it carefully on the dresser. He turned around, saw her expression, and said, “You are displeased? We can alter it in any way you wish.”

  “Later,” she said. “You go see about the learning machines; I’ll worry about decorating.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” Basalom walked toward the door, but Janet stopped him with a word.

  “Basalom.”

  “Yes?”

  “I just want to know what’s happened to them. Information first, actions later, understand?”

  “Understood.”

  “Good. And don’t let anyone see you. If someone does spot you, I order you not to obey them. Just get away, make sure you’ve lost them, and come back here. My order takes precedence over any others.”

  “Very well, Mistress.”

  “All right, then, get going.”

  Basalom left the apartment, closing the door softly behind him. Janet looked once more at the sterile walls around her, shook her head, and went into the bedroom to unpack.

  The contents of one overnight bag didn’t take long to stow. Janet amused herself by ordering the apartment to simulate in ever-greater detail a suite in a medieval castle — a heated one, of course, with hot and cold running water — but she soon grew bored with that game as well. She looked at the desk, now a massive, ornate roll-top with slots and drawers and cubbyholes waiting to be filled, and sat down in the equally massive swivel chair in front of it. Centered in the back of the desk at a comfortable reading height was a flat, dull gray panel that she supposed was a monitor.

  So. If she’d been thinking, she could probably have found her learning machines without sending Basalom out after them.

  “How do I turn this idiot computer on?” she asked of the desk.

  In answer, the gray screen at the back of the desk lit up to white, and the surface of the desk began to differentiate into a keyboard, drawing pad, pointer, and memcube reader. Janet disdained all but the screen, saying aloud to it, “Show me the interior of whatever’s at the address you gave Basalom.” She knew Basalom’s methods, and that he would simply have asked the address to his destination rather than try to find it by dead reckoning.

  Sure enough, the computer didn’t ask what address she was talking about. Neither did it give her the interior view she’d asked for. “That location has been restricted,” a calm, generic voice said.

  Janet nodded. Not surprising, if the robots were trying to hide. “Give me an outside view, then.”

  The screen displayed a wide-angle image of a closed door set in a long corridor, with a two-strip slidewalk running in either direction. There were no figures on the slidewalk, and none of the other doors were open.

  It looked about as anonymous as a place could be. Janet considered trying to break through the security for a look inside, but decided to wait for Basalom’s report instead. She didn’t want to start tripping alarms while he was there.

  What else could she do while she waited? On impulse, she asked, “Is David on the planet?”

  “If by David you mean your son, who now calls himself Derec, then yes, he is.”

  Derec. She’d known he’d changed his name, but she hadn’t really assimilated the concept yet. She supposed she was going to have to get used to it. “Let me see him,” she said.

  She was prepared to go through the whole rigamarole of talking a recalcitrant computer into letting her invade someone else’s privacy, but instead the screen did a center-out wipe and she found herself staring face to face with David. Derec. Whoever. He, too, was using a computer, and her viewpoint was from his screen. She gasped in surprise and was about to order the computer off when it asked, “Do you wish two-way communication?”

  “No!” she whispered. “Don’t let him know I’m watching.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Janet laughed in relief. That had been close. If old Stoneface hadn’t been such a snoop, she’d probably have been caught, but she should have known he’d program the system for surveillance first and talking second. She leaned back in her chair and took a good, long look at her son.

  He had changed. He was older, for one — much older — but that wasn’t the most obvious change. As Janet watched him work, she noticed the determination in his eyes and the set of his jaw, the hint of a smile that touched his lips momentarily when he succeeded with some aspect of what he was doing, that smile fading back into determination when it didn’t pan out. She watched him lean back and stroke his chin in thought, say something to the computer and read the result on the screen, then close his eyes and sigh.

  That was the biggest change: He wasn’t a petulant little brat anymore.

  “Let me hear his voice,” Janet ordered.

  “Acknowledged.”

  Derec remained silent for a time, head tilted back and eyes closed, but after a while he opened them again and said, “How about power usage? Can you give me areas of increased power consumption?”

  His voice was shockingly deep — and shockingly familiar. He had inherited his father’s voice. Janet had always considered his voice to be one of Wendy’s most endearing qualities, and now she found herself warming to her son as well. If he hadn’t inherited Wendell’s personality to go with it, then he might actually hold some promise after all.

  Evidently what he saw on the screen was no more useful than the response to his earlier request. He leaned forward and shook his head. “No good. There’s too many of them. How about food consumption? Avery’s got to eat.”

  Janet’s ears perked up at that. He was looking for Wendell? She’d thought he was talking about her robots.

  “That service is not monitored,” the same generic voice that had answered Janet said to Derec.

  “Can you monitor it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then do. Let me know the next time someone uses an automat, and record where. Record the next time someone uses a Personal. Monitor oxygen consumption and carbon dioxide buildup, and report any changes consistent with a human presence.”

  “Frost,” Janet swore. She hadn’t been here half an hour and already Derec was onto her trail. He would think he’d caught Wendell, but the computer would lead him directly to her.

  Unless, of course, he found Wendell first.

  And Janet had a feeling she knew where he was.

  “Computer, don’t tell Derec my location. He isn’t looking for me. Instead, give him the address I asked to see first. That’s the one he wants.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  She watched Derec’s eyes widen when the address flashed on his screen. He obviously hadn’t been expecting results so quickly. She watched him go through the same process she had of asking for an interior view, then an exterior one, but he learned no more than she had.

  “Contact Wolruf,” she heard him say.

  A moment later she heard a voice growl, “Wolruf, ‘ere.”

  “Where’s ‘here’?” Derec asked.

  “Level seven, four-thirty-six south, nine-fifty east.”

  “I think I’ve found Avery at level nine, three-twenty-two north, four-seventy-six east. I’d just about bet the robots are there, too.”

  Janet cocked her head. He almost certainly meant her learning machines. So he was looking for them, too. If that was the case then he couldn’t have had anything to do with their disappearance, could he?

  Maybe not this time, but finding them all three here on the same planet was pretty suspicious. Janet had put them on three different planets, two of which she’d only later learned Derec and his father had also visited, and when she’d gone back to retrieve those first two robots she’d found no sign of them. Derec and Wendell had no doubt brought them here, where she’d dropped the third one intentionally, but what De
rec wanted with them she couldn’t guess.

  She knew for certain what Wendell wanted with them. He wanted to steal the technology she had developed for them, just as he had stolen her original cellular robot idea and used it to build his cities. Derec could easily be after the same thing, either with Wendell or on his own.

  Or he could be after something completely different. He sounded more than simply curious, but whether he was concerned for the robots’ welfare or whether he had his own reasons for wanting to find them she couldn’t tell. He could even be on Janet’s side, for all she knew. She wondered if she should risk contacting him, finding out directly what his intentions were, but a few moments’ thought dissuaded her. No, she didn’t want to risk alerting him, not yet. She needed some kind of test, some way of gauging the benevolence of his interest first.

  Hmm. The best way to tell would probably be to give him a part of what he was after and see what he did with that. Something fairly harmless, but interesting enough to draw him out.

  Smiling, she got up from the desk, retrieved a memory cube from her personal belongings, plugged it into the reader, and used the keyboard and the pointer to recall a page from one of her personal files. It was a robotics formula, part of the program that allowed her learning machines to think intuitively.

  “Send this to him,” she said, then immediately added, “No, wait, not on the screen. Put it on his desktop in raised lettering so he can’t record it. Don’t record it anywhere yourself, either, and don’t tell him who sent it. And don’t give him or anybody else any information that might lead him to me in the future, either. Clear?”

  “Acknowledged.”

  “Let me see his response.”

  Derec’s face replaced the robotics formula on her screen. He was still speaking to Wolruf, saying, “— meet you there as soon as I can make it.”

  “All right,” Wolruf replied. There was a faint hiss of static as Wolruf disconnected.

  Derec reached down to push a key on his keyboard, no doubt his own disconnect button, but stopped in surprise. “What the...?” He blinked, ran his right hand over the raised surface, then asked, “Where did this come from?”