by Robots
12. THE PLAN AND THE DAUGHTER
It had been a long time since Amadiro, had thought of the humanoid robots. It was a painful thought and he had, with some difficulty, trained himself to keep his mind away from that topic. And now Mandamus had unexpectedly brought it up
The humanoid robot had been Fastolfe's great trump card in those long-gone days when Amadiro had been within a millimeter of taking the game, trump card and all. Fastolfe had designed and built two humanoid robots (of which one still existed) and no one else could build any. The entire membership of, the Robotics Institute, working together, could not build them.
All that Amadiro had salvaged out of his great defeat had been that trump card. Fastolfe had been forced to make public the nature of the humanoid design.
That meant humanoid robots could be built and were built and-behold-they were not wanted. The Aurorans would not have them in their society.
Amadiro's mouth twisted in the remnant of remembered chagrin. The tale of the Solarian woman had somehow come to be known-the fact that she had had the use of Jander, one of Fastolfe's two humanoid robots, and that the use had been sexual. Aurorans had no objection to such a situation in theory. When they stopped to think of it, however, Auroran women simply did not enjoy the thought of having to compete with robot women. Nor did Auroran men wish to compete with robot men.
The Institute had labored mightily to explain that the humanoid robots were not intended for Aurora itself, but were meant to serve as the initial wave of pioneers who would seed and adjust new habitable planets for Aurorans to occupy later, after they had been terraformed.
That, too, was rejected, as suspicion and objection fed on itself. Someone had called the humanoids "the entering wedge." The expression spread and the Institute was forced to give up.
Stubbornly, Amadiro had insisted on mothballing those which existed for possible future use-a use that had never yet materialized.
Why had there been this objection to the humanoids?
Amadiro felt a faint return of the irritation that had all but poisoned his life those n any decades ago. Fastolfe himself, though reluctant, had agreed to back the project and, to do him justice, had done so, though without quite the eloquence he devoted to those matters to which his heart was truly given. -But it had not helped.
And yet-and yet-if Mandamus now really had some project in mind that would work and would require the robots.
Amadiro had no great fondness for mystical cries of: "It was better so. It was meant to be." Yet it was only with an effort that he kept himself from thinking this, as the elevator took them down to a spot well below ground level the only place in Aurora that might be similar, in a tiny way, to Earth's fabled Caves of Steel.
Mandamus stepped out of the elevator at Amadiro's gesture and found himself in a dim corridor. It was chilly and there was a soft ventilating wind. He shivered slightly. Amadiro joined him. But a single robot followed each.
"Few people come here," Amadiro said matter-of-factly.
"How far underground are we?" asked Mandamus.
"About fifteen meters. There are a number of levels. It is on this one that the humanoid robots are stored."
Amadiro stopped a moment, as though in thought, then turned firmly to the left. "This way!"
"No directing signs?"
"As I said, few people come here. Those who do know where they should go to find what they need."
As he said that, they came to a door that looked solid and formidable in the dim light. On either side stood a robot. They were not humanoid.
Mandamus regarded them critically and said, "These are simple models."
"Very simple. You wouldn't expect us to waste anything elaborate on the task of guarding a door." Amadiro raised his voice, but kept it impassive. "I am Kelden Amadiro."
The eyes of both robots glowed briefly. They turned outward, away from the door, which opened noiselessly, rising upward.
Amadiro directed the other through and, as he passed the robots, said calmly, "Leave it open and adjust the lighting to personal need."
Mandamus said, "I don't suppose just anyone could enter here."
"Certainly not. Those robots recognize my appearance and voiceprint and require both before opening the door. " Half to himself, he added, "No need for locks or keys or combinations anywhere on the Spacer worlds. The robots guard us faithfully and always."
"I had sometimes thought," said Mandamus broodingly, "that if an Auroran were to borrow one of those blasters that Settlers seem to carry with them wherever they go, there would be no locked doors for him. He could destroy robots in an instant, then go wherever he wished, do whatever he wanted."
Amadiro darted a fiery glance at the other. "But what Spacer would dream of using such weapons on a Spacer world? We live our lives without weapons and without violence. Don't you understand that that is why I have devoted my life to the defeat and destruction of Earth and its poisoned brood. -Yes, we had violence once, but that was long ago, when the Spacer worlds were first established and we had not yet rid ourselves of the poison of the Earth from which we came, and before we had learned the value of robotic security.
"Aren't peace and security worth fighting -for? Worlds without violence! Worlds in which reason rules! Was it right for us to hand over scores of habitable worlds to short-lived barbarians who, as you say, carry blasters about with them everywhere?"
"And yet," murmured Mandamus, "are you ready to use violence to destroy Earth?"
"Violence briefly-and for a purpose-is the price we probably will have to pay for putting an end to violence forever.
I am Spacer enough," said Mandamus, "to want even that violence minimized."
They had now entered a large and cavernous room and, as they entered, walls and ceiling came to life with diffuse and unglaring light.
"Well, is this what you want, Dr. Mandamus?" asked Amadiro.
Mandamus looked about, stunned. Finally, he managed to say, "Incredible!"
They stood there, a solid regiment of human beings, with a little more life to them than so many statues might have showed, but with far less life than sleeping human beings would have displayed.
"They're standing," muttered Mandamus.
"They take up less room that way. Obviously."
"But they've been standing about fifteen decades. They can't still be in working order. Surely their joints are frozen, their organs broken down."
Amadiro shrugged. "Perhaps. Still, if the joints have deteriorated -and that isn't out of the question, I suppose those can be replaced-if necessary. It would depend on whether there would be reason to do so."
"There would be reason," said Mandamus. He looked from head to head. They were staring in slightly different directions and that gave them a somewhat unsettling appearance, as though they were on the point of breaking ranks.
Mandamus said, "Each has an individual appearance and they differ in height, build, and so on."
"Yes. Does that surprise you? We were planning to have these, along with others we might have built, be the pioneers in the development of new worlds. To have them do so properly, we wanted them to be as human as possible, which meant making them as individual as Aurorans are. Doesn't that seem sensible to you?"
"Absolutely. I'm glad this is so. I've read all I can about the two protohumaniforms that Fastolfe himself built Daneel Olivaw and Jander Panell. I've seen holographs of them and they seemed identical."
"Yes," said Amadiro impatiently. "Not only identical, but each virtually a caricature of one's conception of the ideal Spacer. That was Fastolfe's romanticism. I'm sure that he would have built a race of interchangeable humanoid robots, with both sexes possessing such ethereal good looks-or what he considered to be that-as to make them completely inhuman. Fastolfe may be a brilliant roboticist, but he is an incredibly stupid man."
Amadiro shook his head. To have been beaten by such an incredibly stupid man, he thought-and then he thrust the thought away. He had not been beaten b
y Fastolfe, but by that infernal Earthman. Lost in thought, he did not hear Mandamus's next question.
"Pardon me," he said with an edge of irritation.
"I said, 'Did you design these, Dr. Amadiro?"
"No, by an odd coincidence-and one that strikes me as possessing a peculiar irony-these were designed by Fastolfe's daughter Vasilia. She's as brilliant as he is and much more intelligent- which may be one reason why they never got along."
"As I have heard the story concerning them-," began Mandamus.
Amadiro waved him into silence. "I have heard the story, too, but it doesn't matter. It's enough that she does her work very well and that there is no danger that she will ever find herself in sympathy with someone who, despite the accident that he is her biological father, is-and must remain forever alien and hateful to her. She even calls herself Vasilia Aliena, you know."
"Yes, I know. Do you have the brain patterns of these humanoid robots on record?"
"Certainly."
"For each of these?"
"Of course."
"And can they be made available to me?"
"If there's a reason for it."
"There will be," said Mandwnus funnily. "Since these robots were designed for pioneering activities, may I assume they are equipped to explore a world and deal with primitive conditions?"
"That should be self-evident."
"That's perfect-but there may have to be some modifications. Do you suppose that Vasilia Fast-Aliena would be able to help me with that-if necessary? Obviously, she would be best-acquainted with the brain patterns."
"Obviously. Still, I don't know whether she would be willing to help you. I do know that it is physically impossible for her to do so at the moment, since she is not on Aurora."
Mandamus looked surprised and displeased. "Where is she, then, Dr. Amadiro?"
Amadiro said, "You have seen these humaniforms and I do not wish to expose myself to these rather dismal surroundings. You have kept me waiting long enough and you must not complain if I keep you waiting now. If you have any further questions, let us deal with them in my office."
Once in the office, Amadiro delayed things a while longer. "Wait here for me," he said rather peremptorily and left.
Mandamus waited stiffly, sorting out his thoughts, wondering when Amadiro would return-or if he would. Was he to be arrested or simply ejected? Had Amadiro grown tired of waiting for the point?
Mandamus refused to believe that. He had gained a shrewd idea of Amadiro's desperate desire for evening an old score. It seemed evident that Amadiro wouldn't get tired of listening as long as there seemed the slightest chance that Mandamus would make revenge possible.
As he looked idly about - Amadiro's office, Mandamus found himself wondering whether there might be any information that might be of help to him in the computerized files almost immediately at hand. It would be useful not to have to depend directly on Amadiro for everything.
The thought was a useless one. Mandamus did not know the entry code for the files and, even if he did, there were several of Amadiro's personal robots standing in their niches and they would stop him if he took a single step toward anything that was labeled in their minds as sensitive. Even his own robots would.
Amadiro, was right. Robots were so useful and efficient-and incorruptible- as guards that the very concept of anything criminal, illegal, or simply underhanded did not occur to anyone. The tendency just atrophied-at least as against other Spacers.
He wondered how Settlers could manage without robots. Mandamus tried to imagine human personalities clashing, with no robotic bumpers to cushion the interaction, no robotic presence to give them a decent sense of security and to enforce-without their being consciously aware of it most of the time-a proper mode of morality.
It would be impossible for Settlers to be anything but barbarians under the circumstance and the Galaxy could not be left to them. Amadiro was right in that respect and had always been right, while Fastolfe was fantastically wrong.
Mandamus nodded, as though he had once again persuaded himself as to the correctness of what he was planning. He sighed and wished it were not necessary, then prepared to go over, once again, the line of reasoning that proved to him that it was necessary, when Amadiro strode in.
Amadiro was still an impressive figure, even though he was within a year of his twenty-eighth decade-day. He was very much what a Spacer ought to look like, except for the unfortunate shapelessness of his nose.
Amadiro said, "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, but there was business I had to attend to. I am the head of this Institute and that entails responsibilities."
Mandamus said, "Could you tell me where Dr. Vasilia Aliena is? I will then describe my project to you without delay."
"Vasilia is on tour. She's visiting each of the Spacer worlds to find out where they stand on robot research. She appears to think that, since the Robot Institute was founded to coordinate individual research on Aurora, interplanetary coordination would I advance the cause even farther. A good idea, actually."
Mandamus laughed, shortly and without humor. "They won't tell her anything. I doubt any Spacer world wants to hand Aurora a more enormous lead than she already has."
"Don't be too sure. The Settler situation has disturbed us all."
"Do you know where she is now?"
"We have her itinerary."
"Get her back, Dr. Amadiro."
Amadiro frowned. "I doubt I can do that easily. I believe she wants to be away from Aurora until her father dies."
"Why?" asked Mandamus in surprise.
Amadiro shrugged. "I don't know. I don't care. -But what I do know is that your time has run out. Do you understand? Get to the point or leave." He pointed to the door grimly and Mandamus felt that the other's patience would stretch no farther.
Mandamus said, "Very well. There is yet a third way in which Earth is unique."
He talked easily and with due economy, as though he were going through an exposition that he had frequently rehearsed and polished for the very purpose of presenting it to Amadiro. And Amadiro found himself increasingly absorbed.
That was it! Amadiro first felt a huge sense of relief. He had been correct to gamble on the young man's not being a crackpot. He was entirely sane.
Then came triumph. It would surely work. Of course, the young man's view, as it was expounded, veered a bit from the path Amadiro felt it ought to follow, but that could be taken care of eventually. Modifications were always possible.
And when Mandamus was done, Amadiro said in a voice he strove to hold steady, "We won't need Vasilia. There is appropriate expertise at the Institute to allow us to begin at once. Dr. Mandamus -a note of formal respect entered Amadiro's voice-"let this thing work out as planned and I cannot help but think it will-and you will be the head of the Institute when I am Chairman of the Council."
Mandamus smiled narrowly and briefly, while Amadiro sat back in his chair and, just as briefly, allowed himself to look into the future with satisfaction and confidence, something he had not been able to do for twenty long and weary decades.
How long would it take? Decades? One decade? Part of a decade?
Not long. Not long. It must be hastened by all means so that he could live to see that old decision overturned and himself lord of Aurora-and therefore of the Spacer worlds-and therefore (with Earth and the Settler worlds doomed) even lord of the Galaxy before he died.
When Dr. Han Fastolfe died, seven years after Amadiro and Mandamus met and began their project, the hyperwave carried the news with explosive force to every comer of the occupied worlds. It merited the greatest attention everywhere.
In the Spacer worlds it was important because Fastolfe had been the most powerful man on Aurora and, therefore, in the Galaxy for over twenty decades. In the Settler worlds and on Earth, it was important because Fastolfe had been a friend insofar as a Spacer could be a friend-and the question now was whether Spacer policy would change and, if so, how.
The
news came also to Vasilia Aliena and it was complicated by the bitterness that had tinged her relationship with her biological father almost from the beginning.
She had schooled herself to feel nothing when he died, yet she had not wanted to be on the same world that he was on at the time the event took place. She did not want the questions that would be leveled at her anywhere, but most frequently and insistently on Aurora.
The parent-child relationship among the Spacers was a weak and indifferent one at best. With long lives, that was a matter of course. Nor would anyone have been interested in Vasilia in that respect, but for the fact that Fastolfe was so continually prominent a party leader and Vasilia almost as prominent a partisan on the other side.
