by Isaac Asimov
He’d tried to tell it how by downloading the instruction set for one of his normal city robots into the test robot’s brain, but that wasn’t sufficient. Even with the information in memory, the idiot thing still stumbled around like a drunkard. The programming for walking was evidently stored somatically, in the body cells themselves, and could only be learned by trial and error.
Avery snorted in disgust. What a ridiculous design! Trust Janet to create a perfectly good piece of hardware and screw it up with a bad idea like this one. The problem wasn’t restricted to walking, either. A robot made with her new cells couldn’t talk until it learned the concept of language, couldn’t recognize an order until that was explained to it, and didn’t recognize Avery as human even then. It was ridiculous. What good was a robot that had to learn everything the hard way?
Avery could see the advantage to giving a robot somatic memory. It would have the equivalent of reflexes once it learned the appropriate responses to various stimuli. And if the brain didn’t have to control every physical action, then that freed it for higher functions. Properly trained, such a robot could be more intuitive, better able to serve. But as it was, that training was prohibitively time consuming.
Janet had to have had a method for getting around the brain-body interface problem. No doubt it was in the brain’s low-level programming, but that programming was still in the inductive monitors’ memcubes in his other lab.
Drat. It looked like he was going to need them after all. He briefly considered sending a robot after them, but he rejected that as a bad idea. Robots were too easily subverted. If Derec were there in the old lab, he could probably trick the robot into leading him here to the new lab as well, and Avery wasn’t ready for that.
He couldn’t order the city to carry the memcubes to him internally, either, not if he wanted to maintain his isolation from it.
That left going for them himself. It seemed crazy, at first, to go into an area where people were looking for him, but upon sober reflection Avery realized that he wasn’t really trying to protect his own isolation so much as his laboratory’s. If he retrieved the memcubes himself, there would actually be less risk of exposure. Central was still under orders not to betray his presence, so reentering the city shouldn’t be a problem, and if he should encounter Derec or Janet or anyone else, he supposed he could simply endure their questions and accusations, biding his time and slipping away again when the opportunity arose. It wouldn’t be pleasant, but it wouldn’t be disastrous, either.
Avery picked up the miniature robot and held it within the field area of another magnetic containment vessel. The robot squirmed in his hand, but it knew no form other than humanoid, so there was no worry of it getting away immediately. Avery switched on the containment, waited until the magnetic field snatched the robot from him and crumpled it into a formless sphere again. Now there was no worry of it getting away at all.
He turned to go, but paused at the doorway, looking out into the jungle. He supposed he should walk on the surface before he entered the city, just in case, but the idea of walking unprotected in that half-wild, half-robotic wilderness wasn’t exactly appealing. He looked back into the lab, then crossed over to the tool rack by the workbench and picked up the welding laser. It was about the size of a flashlight and had a heavy, solid feel to it. Comforting. He probably wouldn’t need it, but it never hurt to be prepared.
Chapter 6
A MEETING OF MINDS
ARIEL HATED ROBOTICS labs. They were always full of bizarre hardware, too much of which looked like torture instruments. They were all, without exception, cold and impersonal and utilitarian in design. Something about them seemed to suck the humanity right out of anyone who entered. Even Derec became just like the robots he worked on when he entered a robotics lab: single-mindedly intent on the task before him. Ariel stayed away from him then, and she tried to stay away from labs all the time.
So, of course, in their search for Dr. Avery, the robots led her directly to the laboratory where he had taken them. The door was still open, and the concave stumps of three examination tables still rose from the floor in the middle of the room. Glittering grains of what looked like coarse sand covered the floor around the remains of the tables, and it took Ariel a moment to realize that they were robot cells. Something was evidently keeping them from rejoining the rest of the city.
She looked around the lab for clues to Avery’s whereabouts, but saw nothing immediately obvious. She didn’t know what she was looking for anyway. He was hardly going to leave a note or a map leading her to wherever he’d gone, now was he? Still, she supposed the robots were right; if they couldn’t find him through Central, then this, the last place where he’d been seen, was the logical place to start looking for him.
She walked over to the workbench at the end of the lab. A light on an arm stuck out from the wall above it, the pool of illumination coinciding with the cleared area amid a clutter of machinery. All the machinery faced the light. It seemed pretty obvious that someone had been working here, then, but whether it had been Avery or Derec, she couldn’t tell.
She should have insisted that Derec come along with her. He’d have been able to make more sense of this jumble of equipment, but no, he was too busy for that. While he sat there in his study playing with some idiotic formula for God only knew what, Avery could be escaping the planet with the seeds for galactic destruction.
A noise in the corridor outside made her turn around. The four robots paused in their examination of the room as well. Lucius stepped silently toward the wall beside the doorway, and the other three moved just as silently to flank him, staying out of view from whomever or whatever was beyond the door. They’d coordinated their motion via comlink, Ariel supposed.
Mandelbrot turned toward her for a moment and raised his finger to his speaker grille, motioning with his other hand for her to move out of sight as well. She nodded and backed over to stand against the wall. She felt silly hiding from a noise, but she felt very much out of her element here; she would humor the robots until she learned who was out there.
She didn’t have to wait long. Avery’s voice was instantly recognizable, even with the false note of enthusiasm in it.
“Well, my dear, fancy meeting you here. What a surprise.”
Ariel supposed he was talking to her, that he somehow knew she was in the lab. She could see no reason to hide, then, but before she could respond, another voice, this one female and less familiar, answered him. “Wendell Avery. The pleasure’s yours, I’m sure.”
She hadn’t expected to find him quite so soon, so Janet hadn’t prepared what she was going to say to him yet. After their initial surprised volley, there was a long silence while they each sized up the other. Janet noted that Wendell’s hair had finally made the transition from gray to white, and that his taste in clothing hadn’t changed a bit since the day she’d left him. He still wore a white ruffled shirt and baggy trousers. Knowing him, they could be the very ones he’d worn on their wedding day.
She considered taking the initiative and lambasting him immediately for his stupidity in disturbing two alien civilizations with his robot cities, but curiosity made her reconsider. If he’d orchestrated this encounter, he must have done it for a reason, and she wanted to know why. She thought she knew, but she wanted to hear him say it. There would be plenty of time to lecture him later, and possibly more ammunition to do it with if she let him have his say first.
“So,” she said. “Now that you’ve lured me here, what do you intend to do?”
Avery manufactured an incredulous expression. “Me? You’re the one who arranged this whole business, disturbing my project with your silly robots at every turn. Well, you’ve got my attention. What do you want?”
The conceited arrogance of the man brought genuine incredulity to Janet’s face. Of course he wouldn’t admit to anything himself; he was a master at shifting the blame. But to imply that Janet had orchestrated what he had so obviously set up himself was too much to
believe. “Me arrange to meet you? Don’t make me laugh.”
Avery shook his head. “Come on, Janet, there’s no sense denying it. You set this whole thing up just to smoke me out and you know it, though how you could imagine there could still be anything between us is beyond me.”
“Anything between us? You’re the one fooling yourself, if you think that. I came to get my robots, and to shut down this whole stupid project of yours before you destroy any more civilizations with it. That’s why I’m here.”
Avery could hardly believe his ears. The woman had gone to enormous trouble just to arrange this meeting, and now when she had her chance to speak her mind she stood there vilifying him instead. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised — she had always backed away at the last minute, always taken the easiest route no matter what the situation — but he had naively assumed that over a decade of independence would have made her a little more — what? Adventurous? Assertive? Competent?
Evidently he’d been wrong about that. She hadn’t changed. She was still the same old Janet: a genius at design but an absolute moron when it came to implementation.
She hadn’t changed a whole lot physically, either. Avery would have been surprised if she had; spacers generally counted their age in centuries. Janet’s hair was still its original blond tint, and her eyes were the same sometimes-green, sometimes-gray he remembered, and she had managed to keep her figure as well. Her style of dress hadn’t changed appreciably either, but her shape-flattering clothing had never been a problem for him.
Looking at her now, he remembered what had brought them together.
But listening to her reminded him of what drove them apart. He began to pay attention to what she was saying.
“I managed to look the other way when you stole my cellular robot idea, but when you used it to build these ugly monstrosities you call cities, and then scattered them around the galaxy without a thought of caution, I decided it was time to put a stop to it. I —”
“Developed,” Avery said sternly. “I developed the cellular robot and the robot city, from a concept I freely admit was your idea. You were content to experiment forever with it in the laboratory, but I was not. The concept needed to be tested on a larger scale, and I did so. But I did not steal your idea.”
“Semantics, Wendy. Call it development; call it what you want, but a rose by any other name....” She left the phrase unfinished, but went on before he could interrupt. “And now you’ve gathered all three of my new robots. Are you planning to develop them, too? Ah, you’re blushing. Struck a nerve there, didn’t I? Well, this time I’m not going to let you. This time I’m keeping my idea to myself.”
Avery felt his hands clenching into fists. Unclenching them, he stuffed them into his jacket pockets, but his right hand encountered the welding laser. He withdrew his hand, empty, deeply troubled by the thought that had entered his mind.
He had once been insane. That insanity had nearly led him to kill his own son. He had since been cured, but no one had promised him it would be permanent. Apparently it wasn’t; this momentary urge to burn a neat hole through Janet’s left breast was very probably a symptom of the same insanity creeping back on him again.
Much as he had enjoyed the megalomania, he still preferred having a clear mind. And he didn’t particularly want to harm Janet, either. He just wanted to shut her up so he didn’t have to listen to her accusations anymore. That was probably what had driven him over the edge in the first place.
There were better ways to do that, though; non-violent ways. Ways such as simply leaving. He didn’t need the frosted memory cubes anyway; he didn’t know why he had fooled himself into thinking he did. Nor did he need to stick around on Robot City, either. He could solve the new cells, programming problem quickly enough on his own once he got back to Aurora.
Yes, that’s what he would do. He would walk away from her just as she had done from him so many years ago, order the city to make him a starship, and leave this whole bizarre episode of his life behind.
She was still waiting for a response to her latest ultimatum. Avery held his arms at his sides, looked her straight in the eye, and said, “Madam, you may keep your idea. You may keep your robots as well — what’s left of them. You may even have this entire planet to do with as you wish. I give it to you. The only thing you may not have is me to yell at any longer. I am leaving.” With that he turned and strode away, stepping on the slidewalk to speed his departure.
Lucius, watching with an eye he had extended through the wall and modified to match the blank surface, felt as if his brain were about to burst. Here before him stood his creator! At last, he could ask her the questions that had haunted him since his first awakening. At last he could find out why he existed and who he must serve and who he could safely ignore.
And beside her stood something almost as wonderful: a new robot. This one was neither a normal Avery robot nor another such as Lucius nor even one such as Mandelbrot, but yet another design. This robot was constructed of simple, large-scale metal and plastic members, as was Mandelbrot, but at the same time it had been given the features of a biological human. Lucius could only suppose that was to allow it to interact with humans on an equal level, and it was that concept that most intrigued him. Even if his creator deigned not to answer his questions, this robot might be able to do so.
Lucius sent a cautious inquiry over the comlink. Unknown friend, can you hear me?
The robot shifted its gaze from Avery to the wall behind which Lucius’s signal originated. I can, it replied. Who are you?
I am called Lucius. I am one of the robots your mistress created.
One of the learning machines?
Learning machines. Yes, that is a good description of what I am. Lucius felt a surge of joy. He was right; this robot was a treasure trove of information. Already he had learned something of his creator’s intentions in building him. Who are you? he asked.
I am Basalom.
And what is our creator’s name?
Her name is Janet.
Janet. Lucius had hoped the word would be a code of some sort which would trigger a hidden store of instructions or memories, but nothing happened. He would have to do the remainder of his learning the hard way, too. I seek knowledge about humans, he said. I wish to know more about my place in the universe.
Don’t we all?
The question was obviously rhetorical. While Lucius thought of a reply, he downloaded his hearing buffer and processed the words in it. His creator was calling Avery a thief. That was hardly new information to Lucius.
We must find the time to discuss this at length, he sent.
I agree. Unfortunately, this opportunity seems to be drawing to a close.
Lucius noticed Avery’s right hand enter his pocket, clutch something there, and emerge again, empty. Could he have a weapon? Lucius prepared to draw in his eye, tensed himself for quick action, though without a specific threat he didn’t know what he could do.
He felt immense relief when Avery stated his intention to leave and turned to go. Wonderful! That would leave Janet here to answer his questions uninhibited.
But his relief turned to alarm again when Janet shouted, “Oh no you don’t! Basalom, stop him.”
Beware, friend Basalom! I believe Avery is armed.
Basalom had begun to move the moment he heard Janet’s command, but Avery was already a few strides away. At Lucius’s warning, Basalom leaped onto the slidewalk to close the gap before Avery could pull his weapon, but the distance was too great. Avery lunged for his pocket, there was a sound of tearing cloth, and he held a laser in his hand.
Pointed straight at Basalom.
“Basalom, is it?” he said. “I always wondered what you would name your mechanical lover.”
Lucius heard the icy tone in Avery’s voice, knew what would happen next. He withdrew his eye from the wall, at the same time asking, Friend Basalom, is your memory backed up?
Not recently, I’m afraid, Basalom replied. Pity
. I’ve had some interesting insights in the past few days.
Quickly; download your memory into me!
No time, Basalom replied, and Lucius, sticking his whole head out through the doorway, saw that he was correct. Avery’s thumb was beginning to depress the laser’s trigger button. Lucius could see the skin deforming. The button was beginning to slide....
“No!”
Avery jerked at the sudden, overly amplified sound, and the beam went wide, slicing off Basalom’s left arm. The arm landed with a thud on non-moving pavement; Basalom and Avery continued to slide away. The laser beam winked out as Avery looked to see who had shouted. Lucius stepped out into the corridor and said, “Do not harm Basalom. He is a thinking being, with just as much right to live as you.”
Basalom made a move toward Avery, but Avery brought the laser around to bear on him again. “Wrong,” Avery said. “He’s a robot. Nothing more.” Once again, his thumb began to depress the firing button.
Lucius’s mind was awhirl in conflict. Yes, Basalom was certainly a robot, but couldn’t he also be more? Couldn’t he also be human, just as Lucius suspected he and his brethren were? Could he stand by and watch one human kill another simply because one was biological and the other was not?
The First Law said he couldn’t. Zeroth Law implications further dictated that he must protect the more valuable of the two humans, if only one could be saved. Clearly, Basalom was the more valuable of the two, but how could Lucius save him?
Avery himself provided the answer. In the only similar instance of Zeroth-Law application Lucius had witnessed to date, Avery had demonstrated that it was right even to inflict injury to one human to avoid injury to the more valuable one. Lucius saw the possibility, saw that he could save Basalom’s life, and he could even do so without killing Avery. It would still mean a First Law violation, but not a fatal one.
