Asimov’s Future History Volume 7

by Isaac Asimov

  Toughness was their chief trait. Continually knocking against each other and starting fights, playing games that usually ended in fierce brawling, executing odd practical jokes, or banding together into groups and staging small battles that contained more strategy than one would expect, they had some resemblance to frontier people on the Settler planets and in Earth’s history.

  In contrast to the roughness of their natures, they had organized themselves into a fairly intricate society, including a government laden with bribery and graft. The Watchful Eye had been quite taken with this group, but had had to reject it because it exhibited too many weaknesses, and outside of their corrupt politics and a tendency toward lively song, they had displayed minimal intelligence.

  Most of its experiments were failures because they turned out to be too limited, even though each group displayed different characteristics. It had wanted to discover more about the Laws of Humanics (which stated, more or less, that human beings must not harm themselves or allow others to come to harm, must not give robots dangerous orders, and must not harm robots unless the action could save other human beings), but its experimental creations generally became too independent, forming their own societies and proving nothing about the ethics that were the foundation of the Laws.

  On one side of the room, a large group was singing a raucous song, while a wild melee ensued near the Watchful Eye’s feet. Stepping carefully into spaces the tiny creatures tended to create when one of the larger entities came into the room that was their world, it managed to get about one-third of the way across the room before Mandelbrot and Timestep came through the open doorway. The Watchful Eye looked back for a moment and saw what it had expected. The two robots had come to a standstill. Uncertain of how to wind their way across the overpopulated room, they further wondered if their actions here should be governed by the First Law of Robotics. They were not sure if the law even applied to this situation. It walked on, knowing that even if there were creatures under its foot as it came down, they were used to visitors and adept enough to scamper out of the way. It easily reached the other side of the room, where some of the male citizens performed odd mating rituals with the females. (There had been no actual mating in any of the experimental creatures’ societies, although pairing off and flirtation were not uncommon.)

  Before Mandelbrot and Timestep could work their way cautiously across the room, the Watchful Eye was on a new street and making its way toward its tunnel escape route. In its mind, coolly analytical in spite of the danger around it, it continued to formulate its plan for the destruction of Robot City.

  Chapter 17

  ADAM AND EVE AND PINCH ME

  ADAM FOUND EVE standing at the entrance to a small park set in the middle of one of several Robot City building clusters. This cluster included a small art museum, a library, an auditorium meant for music performance, and one of those plazas with customerless commercial shops that dotted the city. The park itself was a circle of trees just inside a small metallic picket fence, with attractive groupings of benches, bushes, and flower beds throughout.

  Although Eve stood still and looked into the park, it was clear to Adam that she was not studying its landscape or evaluating its function. She was staring at a particular comer, assuring herself that the activity she had just completed there had left no trace.

  He stood by her side for a long while before speaking. She continued to resemble Ariel, while Adam had changed from Avery back to Derec. An outside observer might have judged them to be as romantically involved as the two humans were, the way they stood together silently against the park’s romantic setting. But that was only another facet of their mimicry, and romance was not a part of their repertoire, unless their creator had some later surprise to spring upon them.

  “This is where the dancers are?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You have buried all of them someplace in this park?”

  “Some of them. Others are elsewhere.”

  “Do you know why you have performed this ritual?”

  “It seemed appropriate. When we encountered the first group in that lot, they were burying their dead. I finished that job, so it seemed to me balanced that I do the same task for the dancers. I thought that, whatever they were, someone should perform the rites that appeared to be appropriate to their society. Am I wrong?”

  “I would have no way of knowing that. Right and wrong seem to be the kind of polarity to which beings like Derec and Ariel and Or. Avery give importance. They are concerned with moral values. We do not have to be, except as they apply to us.”

  “I thought we were moral beings, too.”

  “We are. But we do not have to fret in the way that they do about values. And ours are less complicated, governed only by the distinctions of set codes of behavior. You have seen how they cannot even agree among themselves on an issue.”

  “Yes. Dr. Avery seems almost like an enemy of Derec and Ariel, while Derec and Ariel do not always get along with each other. Why cannot they agree on proper rules of conduct, Adam?”

  “I do not know. We must observe them further.”

  “They differed in their attitudes about the dancers. Ariel seemed genuinely sorrowful about their deaths, while Avery appeared to be indifferent.”

  “He was fearful of his own death. He admitted that.”

  “Yes. I have no real idea what death is. It seems to be an operational being becoming nonoperational.”

  “I believe that is somewhat accurate. Did you have feelings about the dancers when they became nonoperational?”

  “I cannot answer you. Something was in my head but I do not know what. I thought perhaps it was a positronic disturbance, but I am not sure. All I know was that as I carried each dancer away from the medical facility, I sensed that there was an injustice in their lives, but I could not yet discern what. If that is feelings, then I may be a robot with feelings.”

  “The evidence is inconclusive at best. Will you bury more of these people if we discover their corpses?”

  “Yes, if it is possible.”

  “Should you wish it, I will help you.”

  They stood a while longer, then Adam said, “When I was helping Dr. Avery, he told me a story. He said I should know it because of our names. It went like this: Adam and Eve and Pinch Me went out to take a swim. Adam and Eve got drowned, and who got saved?”

  Eve waited for Adam to continue. When he did not, she said, “That is incomprehensible as a story, Adam.”

  “No, you’re supposed to answer the question. Perhaps it is a riddle. Try again; Adam and Eve got drowned, and who got saved?”

  “Logic seems to indicate Pinch Me.”

  “That’s right. And then I am supposed to do this.”

  Adam put his hand against her arm, finger and thumb spread. Gradually he brought the two digits together and pressed against her skin in an approximation of a human pinch.

  Adam dropped his hand away. Eve watched the gesture and said, “And...?”

  “And what?”

  “What is the point?”

  “I do not know. I didn’t know when Dr. Avery did it either, but he seemed to think it was worth smiling about. When I asked him to explain it, he became angry.”

  “Do you think it is an allegory? You see, Adam and Eve die and then Pinch Me is the survivor. Therefore, the teller touches the listener in a shared satisfaction that life goes on when other people die. Do you think that was what Dr. Avery was trying to convey?”

  “Perhaps. He appears to want to live on very much, so this could have been his way of explaining life to me. These people can be like that, telling stories laced with obscurity when data is required.”

  “I suspect that data is not always essential to them. Come, let’s find them.”

  In the distance there was an odd popping sound. Looking up, Adam and Eve saw an entire building flying above them, high in the air.

  “What is that?” Eve said.

  “It appears that a building has le
ft its foundation and taken flight. Odd. When the robots remove a building from the city, it just disappears and is replaced by a new one. It does not generally fly through the air. Something is wrong. We must find Derec and Ariel.”

  Chapter 18

  AVERY REDUX

  DEREC RECOGNIZED THE change in his father as soon as the man came into the room. Avery’s usually tense face, now drawn and tired with a sad darkness around his eyes, had relaxed. Its features were softer, and his eyes and mouth were not agitated by nervousness. Neither was his body. He moved with an uncharacteristic slowness. His fingers were still. That was the real oddity. His hands, usually so active, were not moving. Derec had become so used to the way Avery’s fingers drummed against things — furniture, his clothing — that their lack of movement was like a sudden silence in a jungle, too disturbing to cause calm.

  Ariel looked a bit different, too, exhausted, eyelids drooping, mouth slack, no spring to her walk.

  “Isn’t Wolruf with you?” Derec asked Ariel.

  “She was, but she took off on her own. You know how she does.”

  “I sent for her.”

  “I don’t know anything about that.”

  Derec nodded. His suspicions seemed confirmed. “I sent Bogie to bring her here, except that I don’t think it was really Bogie I sent.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He explained.

  “You think somebody’s done something to Bogie?” Ariel asked.

  “Possibly. Or it wasn’t Bogie at all.”

  “How could that be?”

  “I don’t know, but Timestep seemed to agree with me. He and Mandelbrot went after him.”

  Avery, who had lingered at the door, stepped forward. “Maybe it was the individual you’ve been looking for. The one behind the city’s shutdown.”

  Derec considered the possibility. “You may be right. It’s worth considering anyway. But could he disguise himself as Bogie?”

  Avery shrugged. “When you don’t know the identity of your antagonist, there’s very little to conclude. We need hard evidence.”

  “I heard that ‘we,’ “Ariel said. “Does that mean you want to work with us?”

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” Avery replied. “At least not what you insinuate. I may no longer believe I’m a robot, and you may be smug about how you prodded me back to normality with your cheap tricks and psychologizing, but it does not mean I am somehow, as your tone implied, your ally.”

  “Well, pardon me,” Ariel said in mock anger. “Derec, I think the train’s returned to the station. Your father is his old self again.”

  Derec didn’t know how much he could appreciate that. He had not liked Dr. Avery in their earlier encounters and didn’t relish having to deal closely with him again. And this was the man, after all, who had injected the chemfets into him, which had certainly turned out to be a mixed blessing. But Avery was also his father, and that had to count for something. If only the doctor would treat him like a son for a change.

  “Well,” Derec said glumly, “we can use any help you might be able to give us.”

  “Of course you could. The city is deteriorating. I’d want my help, too. I’d demand it. I didn’t put you in charge to oversee its decline and fall.”

  Avery’s words stung Derec. It seemed as if the man was continually judging him, and finding him wanting.

  “I think you two should get to know each other,” Ariel said. “You don’t need me around for that. I’m going to take a stroll. Perhaps I can find the missing Bogie. I mean, the real one.”

  She walked out, an impish look on her face. She knew exactly what she was doing. The two Averys had to meet each other head to head, something neither of them could do with her around. She wasn’t sure why, but she thought something would have to happen between them, for good or ill.

  After she left, Avery observed, “Well, your girlfriend’s ploy is quite obvious.”

  “Stop! Don’t make her sound trivial by calling her my girlfriend.”

  “Sorry. I thought you two were —”

  “We are, but she means more to me than that.”

  “I’ll choose better words. Do you like paramour, foxy lady, lollapalooza, some dish, the cat’s pyjamas, a tomato —”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Just Earth slang. I’m a collector of ancient colloquialisms.”

  “You told me something like that in a dream.”

  “Did I?” Avery began to walk around the room slowly. He looked a bit more like his old self now, a shadow of it anyway. “Well, I don’t put much stock in dream mysteries. Symbols and clairvoyance and that sort of bilgewater scum. Buried in your brain somewhere, although you don’t remember it, you must remember observing me using the old slang terms.”

  “Do you remember me observing you?”

  Avery’s face softened. He looked almost kind.

  “Yes. Many times. You used to come to my lab, sit on a high stool for hours, and watch me work. You not only picked up some of my scientific terminology, and probably my ancient lowdown slang, you were able to repeat a considerable number of my curses when you were a very young age. Embarrassed your mother no end —”

  “My mother? She’s been in my dreams, too. She —”

  “I don’t want to hear about your trivial dreams. You would probably assail me with sentimental theories, interpretations. I can do without psychobabble, believe me. Let’s get back to business, we —”

  “No, wait. My mother, did she have blond hair, hazel eyes?”

  Avery looked astonished. “Well, that’s true. I didn’t think you could, that is, I thought you had no memories of her.”

  “No!”

  The word was spoken so vehemently that Derec realized the subject must be difficult for him. Although he drew back from it, Derec had no intention of dropping it altogether. He would find out about her in any way he could.

  “Was I a difficult child?” he asked instead.

  Avery appeared ready to explode with anger.

  “Can’t you get your bloody mind off nostalgic sentiment? We have to — no, wait, I’m sorry. I can be insensitive, I know that. It must be strange to you, having me as a father. I suppose an outsider might accuse me of having episodes of delusional paranoia, or perhaps intense megalomania. I hate such terms. Would-be interpreters of life hide behind words like that. Sometimes it seems that such words make them sound like they know something, instead of being the ignoramuses they are.”

  Derec was confused by the changes in his father’s tone. He could sound like a normal father at one moment, even a rational human being, but then switch in mid-sentence to the sound of madness. Ariel’s treatment of him may have made him a more sensible human being, but clearly it had not completely cured him.

  “Yes, Derec,” he said, his voice now eerily warm, “you had a more normal childhood than you suspect. Parents who doted on you and all that. You liked robots, and you picked up theories of robotics the way other children learn their letters and numbers. I helped you build your very own utility robot. You don’t remember Positron, do you?”

  “No.”

  He felt sad that he did not.

  “That was the name you gave your robot. Of course, he was just a utility robot and didn’t even have a positronic brain, but I thought the name had a certain charm, and so I didn’t correct you. I suspect I didn’t have to correct you. Even that young, you probably knew what you were doing. You always know what you’re doing.”

  “I wish that was true.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Well, maybe the amnesia robbed you of some confidence, but you’re an Avery, as much as you resist the idea of being related to me. It may insult you for me to say it, but there are times when you do remind me of me.”

  “It may surprise you for me to say it, but no, I’m not insulted. If I had your skills in robotics, I’d be, well, proud.”

  Was it his imagination, Derec wonder
ed, or did his father’s eyes momentarily glaze over? As he looked more closely into the man’s cool and detached eyes, he decided it must have been imagination.

  “Well,” Avery finally said, “you’re pretty skilled in that area already. You may surpass me — and don’t say anything more about it now. We should pursue other subjects.”

  “We will. In a moment. I have to know one thing, then I’ll let you off the hook.”

  “Just don’t mistake me for an affectionate father.”

  “I could hardly do that.”

  Avery had walked away from Derec, and his back was turned to him.

  “You said we were once close,” Derec said. “Why did that change?”

  The answer came out abruptly, bitterly.

  “Your mother left me.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  “No.”

  This time his “no” was spoken softly, but with no less firmness. Derec was going to have to work hard to find out anything about her, that was abundantly clear.

  “Derec,” Avery said softly, “even talking with you is difficult for me. Don’t expect a plethora of revelations.”

  Derec nodded. “All right, I won’t.”

  He wondered if he should walk to his father, perhaps embrace him, perhaps ask him if they could start over, perhaps suggest that he would still like to sit on a high stool and watch Avery work.

  He took one step toward his father but was interrupted by a noise at the door. Turning around, he saw Wolruf limp into the room. She was clearly on the point of collapsing.

  Derec rushed to her and caught her before she fell. Gently he eased her to the floor and felt for her pulse. The slow rate of her pulse beneath her normally cold skin assured Derec that whatever injuries she may have sustained, she was alive and not in immediate danger.

  Avery, reaching over his son’s shoulder, delicately spread areas of Wolruf’s fur apart. She winced with pain.