Robot and the Man - [Adventures in Science Fiction 04]

by Edited by Martin Greenburg

  His grim pattern of thought was interrupted. A tall man was sinking into the empty seat beside him. The man said:

  “Hello, Barr. I was told you had come this way. I want to talk to you.”

  Barr turned slowly.

  ~ * ~

  For a long moment, he studied the leader of the human section of the Council. He thought: How did he find me here? He must have had spies following me?

  Aloud, he said: “Hello, Marknell.”

  He felt himself stiffening to the situation. He added: “You could have seen me tomorrow at the office.”

  “What I have to say can’t wait till morning.”

  “It sounds interesting,” said Barr.

  Sitting there, he realized how vital a man Marknell was. He would be hard to kill under any circumstances. Yet the other’s very tone of voice suggested awareness of crisis. He might have to be murdered if he suspected too much.

  For the first time he felt dissatisfied with his action in coming out this night with a single guard. He considered calling for members of crack robot military units to attend on him. He decided not to, at least not until he had found out what Marknell wanted.

  The trouble with the most dependable—from his point of view—robot soldiers was that they were recognizable. After the war they had all been marked with a chemical that did not damage but discolored the exposed portions of the crystal structure. The outrage was perpetrated when Barr and most robot officers were still attached to outlying headquarters.

  The moment he heard about it, Barr saw it as a device to identify at a glance all front-line soldiers who might be dangerous to human beings. For more than a year he had told himself that that was why his own actions were necessary.

  He spoke again: “What’s on your mind?”

  Marknell said lazily: “Been looking over the children, eh?” He waved—an arm movement that took in half the amusement park.

  “Yes,” said Marknell, “the children!”

  He recognized the remark as a psychological attack. This was an attempt to pretend that only an unimportant and juvenile minority of human beings devoted their lives to pleasure. It was a curious reality that such an obvious attempt to put over a false notion should nevertheless sow a seed of doubt in his mind. It had been too deliberately done. It showed awareness of the problem. It implied that countermeasures were possible.

  He answered that by committing himself. He said coolly: “I don’t see what you can do. The escape of the enemy prisoner made it possible to bring two hundred thousand robot troops into the capital.”

  “So many,” said Marknell. He drew back in a physical movement that showed he realized what a tremendous admission had been made. His eyes narrowed. “So you’re out in the open—as quickly as that. I was hoping you would be more discreet. You didn’t leave much room for compromise.”

  “Only the weak compromise!” said Barr savagely. He was instantly dissatisfied with the statement, for it was untrue. Human history was full of amazing compromises. There was a time when he had thought them the result of illogical reasoning. Then he had begun his prolonged study of human emotion, with a view to establishing useful emotional associations in robots. Gradually, he had become aware that he had automatically acquired human attitudes and reactions by contact. Even the successful effort of robot scientists to find a substitute for human sex sensation had been rooted in awareness that there was something to duplicate.

  Barr drew his mind clear of such stultifying thoughts. The time for doubt was past. He said: “I need only project a radio signal, and the human race vanishes from the universe.”

  “Surely, not so quickly as that,” said Marknell. He showed his teeth in a humorless smile.

  Barr made a dismissal gesture with one arm. The action distracted him momentarily; it was so obviously an unconscious imitation of human impatience. Aloud, he said harshly: “Can you give me a single reason why that order shouldn’t be given?”

  Marknell nodded vigorously. “You’ve forgotten something. One little thing.” He paused, grim but tantalizing.

  Barr drew back, and considered the possibilities. He was disturbed; he had to admit that. He told himself presently that the problem could be broken down into its components. Sitting there, he mentally broke it down: Control of fuel, energy and materials for robot construction—completely in robot hands. Control of utilities needed by robots—in robot hands. Control of utilities needed by human beings—operated by robots who knew nothing of the plot. Control of human food—spread out over the planet; all labor done by robots, but actually impossible to control completely.

  Everything was as he had pictured it in advance. There was nothing that overwhelming force could not dominate. The war had given him the training that had made it possible for him to prepare for this eventuality. The sudden fantastic proposal by the Council, that all robots be destroyed, had brought the need for a black-and-white decision.

  He said stiffly to Marknell, grudging the question: “What have I forgotten?”

  “The escaped enemy prisoner!”

  “How does that affect the issue?” Barr began. He paused, a great light dawning. “You let him escape!”

  “Yes.”

  Barr considered that, reaching out with his mind at first to one, then another possibility. He drew back at last, mystified. He said slowly, “I have a mental picture of an admittedly dangerous monster released upon a large city. Its release gave me an opportunity to bring special troops into an area from which they would normally be barred. As a result robots will this night take over the capital of the galaxy—the moment I give the command.”

  He spread his hands in a typical human gesture of bewilderment. “It doesn’t seem to mean anything.”

  Marknell stood up. “It will,” he said, “it will.”

  ~ * ~

  He towered above Barr. “My friend,” he said, “when we discovered that as army commander you had started the notion of a separate robot race-”

  Barr said softly: “It wasn’t only my idea. It permeated the thinking of all upper-level commanders.” He added, “You see, robots have come of age. Unfortunately, men clung to their old privileges too long.”

  Marknell seemed not to hear. He went on: “We decided for the first time in the history of human-robot association to make a robot Director of the Council. The friendly gesture was apparently lost on you. You used your greater power to develop further the robot plot against human beings.”

  “Can one race be said to plot against another,” Barr asked, “if its only original purpose was to obtain equality?” He was cool. “I’m afraid we have here the age-old ingredients of basic misunderstanding. It is due to an irritating refusal on the part of human beings to recognize the rightful aspirations of another life-group.”

  Marknell stared at him earnestly. “I cannot escape the feeling,” he said, “that you are contemplating a world without human beings. In a purely intellectual way, that astounds me. Robots need human beings. They are dependent on Man’s civilization as Man himself never has been.”

  Barr said grimly: “To the contrary, robots do not need the machine culture, which is what I think you mean. A robot can live off the land without any other equipment than he carries with him. All the materials that go into his body are derived from the planet’s crust. He charges his batteries from the ground or air. He can vacuumize tubes. He has tools and knowledge for every need. During the war it was proved that he can survive indefinitely under conditions that would have killed most human beings.”

  Marknell shook his head. “This is absolutist talk. Surely, you know that you don’t have to talk to human beings on that level. Barr, you’re a grave disappointment to me.”

  “And you to me,” said Barr in a dark voice. “When I actually heard you suggest that I take under advisement the destruction of all robots-”

  He stopped. He fought an inward struggle against anger. He said at last: “I suppose I knew at that point that in dealing with human beings one must thi
nk in terms of absolutes. Everything before that was precaution, a building towards a less uncompromising goal, based on a hope that human beings would-”

  Marknell said: “Barr, it’s you that showed your basic attitude, not us. Emotionally, you made an immediate jump to the notion of destroying the human race. That’s what we wanted to find out. You drew no intermediate conclusions from the fact that we put the problem up to you, personally. You took what you considered the necessary steps to destroy us, and then you went out to gather impressions, under the pretense—I presume—of convincing yourself that you were giving consideration to your final decision.”

  Barr said: “Your remarks suggest that on the basis of my emotional reaction you are judging whether or not the robot race should survive. Marknell, robots vary at least as widely as human beings. It usually depends on the associations that have been established in the mind of the individual. On the one hand, you have myself and others like me. We have had such a vast experience that no idea seems radical to us. And on the other hand you have my guard here who accepts his role in life almost without question. I believe that in the old days, when tyrannies ruled mankind, there were many human beings who accepted their low lot in life with an equally humble attitude.”

  He broke off, “But enough of this. I regret the necessity for absolutes. But that is the way human beings fight a war. And that is the way we will fight it also. Unless you can give me a single logical reason for not doing so, I shall now project the order to my troops.”

  Marknell said: “I’ve already given it to you. The escaped enemy prisoner.”

  That silenced Barr. He had forgotten.

  ~ * ~

  After a minute, he still couldn’t see that the escape of the prisoner made any difference. Because there was only one of him. Had there been a thousand, the threat would be obvious. Lack of numbers—and a slow birth rate—was the enemy’s main problem. As an individual the adult alien was so formidable that only banks of energy beams could affect him.

  Marknell was walking away. Barr jumped to his feet, and ran after him. As he emerged from the high-walled movie in-closure into the park, the clamor of dance music swelled up around him. Barr fell into step beside Marknell, who paused abruptly.

  “So you’re curious?” the man said. He nodded, half to himself. “I suppose it’s too much to expect you to figure out the complexities of another person’s secret plans. Let me give you this thing as I see it. You have some plan for destroying human beings, is that right?”

  Barr said simply: “Human beings will never admit robots to equality. The proposal of the Council, to destroy all robots, showed such a basic insensitivity that the issue is irreconcilable.”

  Marknell said steadily: “Anyway, it’s our destruction you have in mind. How are you going to do it?”

  “Surprise uprising,” said Barr, “on all planets—and don’t think it won’t be a surprise to most human beings.” He paused for a reaction. When Marknell gave no sign, he went on savagely, “Continuous attack, orderly destruction of isolated groups by starvation or other methods, massacre of human armies wherever they concentrate. No mercy, no quarter. It’s a fight for survival.”

  He saw that some of the color had faded from Marknell’s face. The councilor said finally, gravely: “You actually intend to destroy us. Barr, I can see you have been shocked into an emotional ‘set.’ Perhaps our method was too brutal. Men make mistakes, too. But the very fact that you were ready to swing into action shows that we were right in thinking the issue must be forced.”

  He finished quietly, “What I am most concerned about is getting you to the point where you will consider other solutions.”

  That irritated Barr. “It is one of the most widely held concepts among humans,” he said, “that robots are logical beings, and have their emotions under control. Having observed human beings for many years, I accept that belief as true. I must conclude, accordingly, that my opinion on this tremendous issue is more soundly based than yours.”

  Marknell said: “I consider the so-called logic-superiority of robots greatly overstated. As for emotion”—he shook his head —”Barr, you don’t realize what you’re saying.”

  Barr said harshly: “There might be a point in discussing other solutions if it wasn’t that you literally speak only for yourself. You could pass laws from now on, and this mob would pay no more attention than they do now.” He gestured toward the dancers, and added impressively, “Marknell, it will take a hundred years before the majority of human beings will even accept the notion that robots are as alive as they are.”

  Marknell said scathingly: “So you want quick action. Everything must be done now. Suddenly, after a thousand years of slow development, most of it mechanical improvement, we must abruptly change our attitudes. You and I know that people don’t change rapidly. I’ll venture that in all your other operations you have learned to take into account this conservative character of the human and the robot mind. Don’t forget that last, Barr. There are robots who will resist the need to mature. You’ll have to educate them slowly, painstakingly, and even then they won’t like it.”

  ~ * ~

  Barr said nothing. This was a sore point with him, these robots who stared blankly when it was suggested that they were alive. It was a matter of association, he told himself. The process could be slow or fast, depending on how many human beings were around to confuse the issue. He was on the point of saying so, but it was Marknell who spoke first:

  “Besides, it won’t take a hundred years. You underestimate the power of modern propaganda methods. And there’s another thing. What do you expect of human beings? Do you have a murderous impulse to punish them for the years that they considered robots as nothing more than slave machines? Or can you adjust to the idea that all that can ever come from human and robot association is toleration and respect for each other’s achievements? You see, my friend-”

  Barr cut him off. It was the clever wording that did it, the implication that he might accept the promise of an equal status. He had a picture of men skillfully putting over the notion that perhaps some day they would respect robots, some day everything would work out. Meanwhile, it would be wise to let life go on much as at present. Possibly, men would gradually infiltrate into industry, particularly war factories. Thus, given time, they would overcome their present terrible handicap of having no weapons, and virtually—except for a few individuals —no technical training. Now, and for the next few years, they were vulnerable. In all the future history of the galaxy, such a situation might never occur again.

  “Marknell,” said Barr with finality, “a man facing a firing squad is always anxious to talk things over, and to admit his errors. A few years ago, before—or even during—the war, we might have been grateful for the kind of compromise you’re offering now. But it’s too late. More than one hundred and nineteen million robots were destroyed in the war. Beside that fact, your cunning and desperate appeals sound cheap and meaningless.”

  He broke off angrily, “Quick, you’ve got only a moment. Why should the escape of the enemy prisoner restrain me from ordering the rebellion?”

  Marknell hesitated. He said finally: “I’ll give you one aspect. Just think, two hundred thousand extra troops have so far failed to capture one enemy alien. When you start trying to exterminate human beings, you’ll have not one but several billion to hunt down. If that doesn’t give you pause, I don’t know what will.”

  ~ * ~

  The relief that came to Barr was tremendous. Then he grew angry at himself for having been so anxious. Finally, he throttled his annoyance, and actually considered the possibilities.

  They were unimportant. All such details had been considered. Mere numbers were not a determining factor. What counted was weapons, control of industry and being in a strategic position. No robot commander doubted that it would take time. It was even probable that the human race would never be completely exterminated. But a few skulking millions, hiding out on a myriad planets, would ne
ver be a danger to an organized civilization.

  Barr started to say as much. He stopped himself. This was all Marknell had to offer as a deterrent? It seemed incredible.

  It was such a small thing, in fact, that Barr felt a doubt grow in him that was in inverse proportion to the ineffectiveness of the threat. There must be something else.

  He would have to find out what it was.

  He saw that Marknell was watching him with alert but curious gaze. The man said: “Barr, it’s interesting to watch your reactions. All your associations are so intensely human.”

  That was something Barr had observed in himself; and he was not pleased by the comparison. It was particularly annoying because secret experiments on new robots had not yet established any definite characteristic that was peculiar to robots. Barr had an angry reason for that. Human-oriented robot teachers were unconsciously transmitting human associations. It would take several generations to strain them out.