by Isaac Asimov
“So why don’t they do it?”
“That’s the mystery, isn’t it?”
The door slid open and Wohler, the golden robot, moved into the room, flanked on either side by smaller robots.
“Good morning,” Wohler said. “I trust your sleep-time was beneficial.”
“You’re going to have to learn to knock before you come barging in here,” Katherine said. “Now go out and do it again.”
Derec watched the robot dutifully march outside the door and slide it closed. He knew that Katherine was simply venting frustration. On Spacer worlds, robots were considered simply part of the furniture and their presence was not thought about in terms of privacy.
There was a gentle tapping on the door, the nature of the material muffling the sound somewhat.
“Come in,” Katherine said with satisfaction, and the door slid open, the robots reentering.
“Is this the preferred method of treatment in future?” Wohler asked.
“It is,” she replied.
“Very well,” the robot said, then noticed Derec’s sleeping covers on the sofa. “Should these be returned to the bedroom?”
“You only provided us with one bed,” Derec replied. “I slept out here.”
Wohler moved farther into the room, coming up near the table. “Did we err? Was the sleeping space too small . . . ”
“Katherine and I would simply like . . . separate places to sleep,” Derec said.
“Privacy?” Wohler asked. “As with the knocking on the door?”
“Yes,” Katherine said, and he could tell she was unwilling to delve into the social aspects of human sleeping arrangements, so he left it alone, too.
“On-line time is a matter of priorities right now,” the robot said, “but we will see if we can arrange something for you that is more private.”
“Thanks,” Derec said. “And if it takes another day to arrange it, that’s all right with me. It’s Katherine’s turn to sleep on the couch tonight.”
“What?” she said loudly. Derec grinned broadly at her. She wasn’t amused.
He quickly changed the subject. “What brings you here this morning, Wohler?” he asked. “Have you reached a decision about our requests of yesterday?”
“Yes,” the robot replied. “And it is our sincerest wish that the decision be one that all of us can accept. First, in addressing the issue of your investigation and freedom of movement. We conferred at as great a length as time would permit under the present circumstances, and decided that, despite your flaws, you are human, and that fact in and of itself demands that we give you the benefit of the doubt in this situation. Many of our number were concerned about your veracity, or lack of it, but I reminded them that a great human philosopher once said, ‘Isn’t it better to have men being ungrateful than to miss a chance to do good?’ And so my fellows voted to do good in this regard.”
“Excellent,” Derec said.
“But . . . ” Katherine helped.
“Indeed,” Wohler returned. “It is my place to philosophize in any given situation, and I need remind you now that one must always be prepared to take bad along with good.”
“Just get on with it,” Katherine said.
Wohler nodded. “On the matter of your safety, and your . . . unpredictability, it was decided that each of you would have a robot companion to . . . help you in your investigations.”
“You mean to guard us,” Katherine said.
“Merely a matter of semantics,” Wohler countered, and Derec could tell that the robot had been geared for diplomacy. “Actually, in this case, I believe you may find these robots more useful as assistants than as protection. In fact, one of them was present during the death of David and the subsequent confusion.”
Katherine perked up. “Really? Which one?”
The robot to Wohler’s left came forward. Its body was tubular, its dome a series of bristling sensors and photocells. Without arms, it seemed useless in almost any sense.
“What are you called?” Katherine asked the machine.
The machine’s tones were clipped and precise. “I am Event Recorder B-23, Model 13 Alpha 4.”
“I’ll call you Eve, if that’s all right,” Katherine said, standing and wrapping her blanket a little tighter around herself. She looked at Derec. “I want this one.”
“Fine,” Derec said, then to the other, “come here.”
The robot moved up close to him. “You’ll answer to Rec.”
“Rec,” the robot repeated.
“We call these robots witnesses,” Wohler said. “Their only function is to witness events precisely for later reporting.”
“That’s why they have no arms,” Derec said.
“Correct,” Wohler replied. “They are unequipped to do anything but witness. Once involvement begins on any level, the witness function falters in any creature. These robots only witness and report. They will know the how of almost everything, but never the why. They will answer all of your questions to the best of their ability, but again, they are unable to make any second-level connections by putting events together to form reasons.”
“I’m going to go get dressed,” Katherine said, the happiest Derec had seen her in days. She hurried out of the room, disappearing down the hall to the bedroom.
“Where will we be denied access?” Derec asked. “Or is the entire planet open to us?”
“Alas, no,” Wohler said. “You will be denied access to certain parts of the city and certain operations. Your witness, however, will tell you when you’ve stepped into dangerous water, as it were.”
“What are the chances of me getting around a terminal,” Derec asked, “and talking to the central core?”
“The central core has sealed itself off because of our present state of emergency,” Wohler said. “It will not accept input from any sources save the supervisors, and we are unable to help you in this regard.”
“How do the day-to-day operations survive?” he asked.
“Essential information can be gathered through any terminal,” the robot answered. “But input is limited.”
“You don’t mind if I try?”
“That is between you and the central core. We all have our jobs to do. All that we insist upon is that you honor your commitment to come back here when the rains approach. We must put your safety above all else. Having failed in this regard with your predecessor, we perhaps err on the side of caution. But all privileges will be denied should this directive be overlooked or ignored.”
“I understand,” Derec replied, “and will respect your wishes.”
“Your words, unfortunately, mean very little right now,” the robot said, turning to the door, his head swiveling back to Derec. “By your deeds we will judge you in future. As an Earth philosopher once said, ‘The quality of a life is determined by its activities.’ Now, I must go.”
With that, Wohler moved quickly through the opening and departed hurriedly down the elevator. The activity bothered Derec; it said to him that things were not going well in Robot City. He had intended to ask Wohler about the effects of last night’s rain, but then decided a first-hand look might be better and determined that Rec would take him where he wanted to go.
“There,” Katherine said, coming down the hall to bustle around the room. She wore a blue one-piece that the dinner servo-robot had brought with it the night before. “Finally, we can start moving in a positive direction. Where do you want to start?”
“I thought I’d go down to the reservoir,” he replied, “and see how much rain fell last night.”
She stopped walking and stared, unbelieving, at him. “Don’t you realize that every moment is precious right now? We need to find that body and see what happened. It could be . . . decomposing or something at this very minute.”
“I’ve got to see if there was any damage,” he said. “I’ll try and join you later.”
“Never mind,” she said angrily, and walked quickly to the door. “Satisfy your stupid urges. I don�
�t want you with me. You’ll just get in the way anyhow. Come on, Eve. We’ve got a corpus delecti to find.”
She walked out of the apartment without a backward glance and was gone, Derec frowning after her. He couldn’t help the way his feelings ran on this. He felt that so much of his own life, his own reasons for being, hinged upon the future of Robot City that its troubles seemed to be his own.
“I want to go to the reservoir,” he told Rec. “Can you take me there?”
“Yes, Friend Derec,” the robot answered, and they left together.
When they arrived at street level, Derec was disappointed to find that the supervisors hadn’t left any transportation for him to use. A great deal of time would be wasted walking from place to place. Perhaps he could talk to Euler about it later, though he feared that the reasons had much to do with keeping him from going very far from home.
“Do you want to go the most direct route?” the witness asked him.
“Yes, of course,” Derec said as they set out walking. “Let me ask you a question. Is the rain a result of the work being done on the city?”
“For the most part,” Rec answered through a speaker located on Derec’s side of his dome. “It is also the rainy season here.”
“If they slowed down the building, would it slow down the rain?”
“I do not know.”
Derec was going about this wrong, asking the wrong questions of a witness. “How does the city make rain?” he asked.
The robot began talking, recalling information in an encyclopedic fashion. “Olivine is mined below ground and crushed in vacuum, releasing carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen, from which water vapor, carbon dioxide, methane gas, and traces of other chemicals are liberated. Iron ore is also being mined for building materials, along with petroleum products for plastics . . . ”
“Plastics?” Derec asked.
“Plastics are used as alloys in making the material from which the city is constructed. Do you wish me to go on with my previous line of witnessing?”
“Let me tell you,” Derec said, “and you tell me if I’m right. Water vapor, along with the heat energy from the mining process, is pumped into the air, heat also being pumped into the reservoir. The CO2 is bled into the forest to help growth. The reason that the weather is so rainy now is that the city is growing too fast, giving off too much heat, dust, and water.”
“I do not know why the weather is so rainy right now,” Rec said. “I do not even understand what so rainy means. The other statements you made are juxtapositional with statements I heard Supervisor Avernus make, which I assume to be correct.”
“Fine,” Derec said. “Is there a problem with the ozone layer?”
“Problem?” the robot asked.
Derec rephrased. “Is any work being done on the ozone layer?”
“I do not know,” Rec said, “although I did hear Supervisor Avernus say on one occasion that the ‘ozone layer needs to be increased photochemically to ten parts per million.’”
“Good,” Derec said. “Very good.”
“You are pleased with my witnessing?” Rec asked.
“Yes,” Derec replied. “Will the supervisors be asking you to witness later what we’ve discussed?”
“That is my function, Friend Derec.”
They walked for nearly an hour by Derec’s watch, the city still subtly changing around them. It sometimes took a while to get information out of the witness, but if questions were phrased properly, Derec found Rec an endless source of information, and he wondered how Katherine was faring with her witness.
Derec knew they were nearing the reservoir long before they arrived there. A long stream of robots was moving toward and away from the site, followed by large vehicles bearing slabs of city building material.
They walked into an area sonorous with activity, echoes raising the pitch enough that Derec covered his ears against the din. Within the confines of the reservoir area, his worst fears were realized. The water had reached the top of the pool and was splashing over slightly in various areas.
For their part, the robots were doing their best to stop it. Large machines, obviously converted from mining work, had been modified to lift huge slabs of the building material to the top of the pool, where utility robots with laser torches were welding the higher sections together, trying for more room, bathing the area in various sections in showers of yellow sparks.
It was a massive job, the reservoir covering many acres, as the robots worked frantically to finish before the next rain. And to Derec’s mind, this could be no more than a stopgap measure, for unless the rain was halted, it would overflow even the extra section in a day or two.
“What happens if the water overflows?” he asked Rec.”
I am unable to speculate on such matters, Friend Derec,” the robot said. “It is not overflowing. When it does, I will witness.”
“Right,” Derec said, and moved forward, closing on the workers.
“Do not get too close,” Rec called. “It is dangerous for you.”
Derec ignored him and moved closer, recognizing Euler, who was helping with the movement of a slab. He was directing a large, heavy-based machine with a telescoping arm that held a six-by-six-meter slab in magnetic grips. He was holding his pincers at the approximate distance the arm had yet to travel so that it would be flush with the edge of the pool and the slab next to it. Utility robots physically guided the slabs to the ground and held them so the welders could set to work immediately.
“Euler!” Derec called, the robot jerking to the sound of his name.
“It is too dangerous for you here!” Euler called back, waving him away. “We have no safety controls over this area!”
“I’ll only stay a centad,” Derec said, moving up close to him. He could look past the end of the last slab and see the dark waters churning the top of the pool. In the distance, all around the reservoir, he could see the same operation being repeated by other crews.
“What are you doing here?” Euler asked him.
“I had to see for myself,” Derec answered. “I knew the levels were rising. Why don’t you stop the building pace and let these waters recede?”
“I can’t tell you why,” Euler said.
“But what happens when this overflows?”
“We lose the treatment plant,” Euler said, holding his pincers up to signify to the arm to stop moving the slab. Then he motioned toward the ground, the arm bringing the slab down very slowly. “We lose much of our mining operations. We lose a great many miners. We will have failed.”
“Then stop the building!”
“We can’t!”
Just then, a utility robot working the slab was bumped slightly by the moving metal and lost its footing on the wet floor. Soundlessly and without drama, it slipped from the edge of the pool and fell into the dark waters, disappearing immediately.
Everything stopped.
Euler pushed past Derec to hurry to the water’s edge, where he stood, head down, watching. The rest of the crew did the same, lining up quietly beside the water. Derec moved to join Euler.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Euler slowly turned his head to look at the boy, not saying anything for a long time. “I should have paid more attention,” he said.
“How deep is the water?” Derec asked.
“Very deep,” Euler replied. “I was talking with you and didn’t give the job my complete attention.”
“Can it be saved?”
“Had there been more time,” Euler said, “the job would have been studied for safety and feasibility and this wouldn’t have happened. Had I known better, I wouldn’t have allowed you to come so close. A robot is lost, and the supervisor is to blame.”
“There was nothing you could have done,” Derec said.
“A robot is dead today,” Euler told him. “I will not answer any more of your questions right now.”
Chapter 6
THE TUNNELS
“IF THE CITY keeps movin
g,” Katherine asked, “how can you take me to the location of the murder?”
“Triangulation,” Eve, the witness, said. “Using the Compass Tower as one point and the exact position of the sun at a given time as another point, my sensors are able to triangulate the position where I first witnessed the body. The time is the only real factor at this point. We must gauge the sun in exactly 13.24 decades to get the position right.”
They were walking through the city, Katherine feeling a mixture of fear and exuberance at her first solo trip outside. They were walking high up, above many of the buildings, bridges between structures seemingly growing for her to walk across, then melting away after her passage. Eve apparently needed the height in order to take the precise measurements.
Katherine was angry at Derec for his lack of interest in their predicament, but she knew him well enough to know how stubborn he could be. She, in fact, knew him far better than he knew himself, and that was maddening. They were caught in a web of intrigue that existed on a massive level, and as long as she was trapped there, she had to play the situation with as much control as she could muster. And that included not telling Derec any more about his life than he could figure out for himself. Her own existence was at stake, and until she could escape the maze that had locked up their activities, she desperately feared saying anything more.
She had to get away from Robot City. The pain had increased since her arrival here, and, for the first time in her life, death was a topic she found herself dwelling upon.
And her only crime was love.
She felt the tears begin to well up and fought them back with an iron will. They wouldn’t help her here. Nothing would, except her own tenacity and intelligence.
“Tell me about your involvement in David’s death,” she asked Eve, who was busy calibrating against the sun.
“In approximately two decads,” the robot said, “it will have happened exactly nine days ago. We go down from here.”
Eve moved directly to the corner of the six-story structure they were standing upon, and railed stairs formed for them to walk down. As they descended, the robot continued talking.
“I was called upon to witness the attempts to free Friend David from an enclosed room.”
