In the Centre of the Galaxy

by Clark Darlton

  Was he, Homunk, not also a captive?

  He looked at the screen again; the aliens’ reply was:

  "…avoid adding more fuel to the superstition. We must find out where he comes from and whether there are more of his kind. Communication is therefore necessary. Afterwards he must be destroyed in public to provide the proof that they are mortal organisms."

  Homunk understood faster than human beings. He thought nearly as fast as a robot brain. The robots wanted to kill him after the trial. They wanted to prove something by it. They wanted to prevent the spread of an existing superstition.

  Since when did robots have superstitions?

  Matters were getting more and more mysterious and insane. Homunk was aware that he was dealing with especially able and thinking robots but it was still incredible that they would therefore have developed a philosophy, even if this philosophy was made up only of superstitions. That was simply impossible.

  The commander waited until the colour patterns finally died out, then he came back to Homunk. His eyes reflected both determination and doubt. Homunk was shocked to realize that in these artificial crystal eyes there was real life that could express feelings.

  He met the robot’s glance as if he were facing a human being whom he wanted to force under his spell. It was easy for him to behave with determination for Homunk had no brain centre that would allow him to feel fear of death. If he had any will to live, it was only to help human beings, for he owed them a duty. His own existence meant nothing to him.

  The robot stood his glance for nearly two minutes, then turned away. He avoided the forceful spell of Homunk’s eyes. His movements betrayed uncertainty and even shyness. But only for a few seconds, then the crystal eyes flashed into hardness. The orders of his superiors were stronger than any doubts.

  The door opened. Ten robots marched into the dome hall and approached in step. They surrounded Homunk and the commander.

  A bodyguard?

  Instinct told Homunk not to wait any longer. The instinct was the end result of his experience, logically considered and used by his inpotronic brain with unimaginable speed. If the robots were really superstitious, then this unusual characteristic had to be encouraged, not checked. Besides, no understanding could be reached with the robots; however, he might be able to do so with their superiors who must now be found as soon as possible.

  Homunk ducked under the outstretched arms of the robots and ran as fast as he could to the robot brain. With one leap he was on the wide base, reached into his pocket and drew his laser pistol. Its fine ray was hot enough to melt any metal. And the robots would hardly dare to put any similar weapon to use, for then they would run the danger of damaging the robot brain.

  They hesitated before doing anything.

  As they finally came at him with bare hands, Homunk raised his weapon and destroyed the first one.

  But then he stared uncomprehendingly at what happened next.

  The robots split forces. The commander and 4 of the newly arrived artificial beings stormed on while the 5 remaining robots attacked them from behind. A regular scuffle arose during which the robots hit each other with their steel fists. Dumbfounded, Homunk stood on the base of the robot brain and asked himself what the aliens might say to this peculiar and inexplicable behaviour of their thinking robots. And if they could observe the incident, why didn’t they interfere?

  The commander caught a fist on his head, stumbled and then sank to the floor. The concussion must have severed a circuit. The 4 robots who had sided with the commander immediately backed away and gave up the fight. They turned to Homunk who waited tensely for what would happen next.

  It was obvious that they had no intention of carrying out the orders of the fallen commander, so Homunk hid his weapon again. He watched as the robots approached and stopped a few steps away from him. In their eyes he again saw an uncertainty that had already posed enough puzzles for him. He was almost shocked when the 9 robots bowed courteously in his direction and through gestures asked him to step down from the base of the robot brain.

  Homunk saw no reason to refuse. There must be in this world different groups of robots and he had now fallen into the hands of the others. Perhaps he could get along with them better. Only the question was left unanswered as to what the real masters of this world would say about it. In the end, it was they who would make the decisions.

  The robots surrounded him and marched past the robot brain to a second exit. The door opened but instead of an avenue under the open sky Homunk saw an endless, brightly lit tunnel that was barely 3 meters high. The floor was smooth but electronic guide rails were clearly visible. A closed car was waiting.

  Homunk climbed in and sat down. He wondered about the hard seats that offered no comfort. It was as if only robots rode in these wagons, nobody else. Without any jerk, the vehicle finally started moving while the door to the dome structure glided shut. Four robots stayed behind. The other 5 had taken their places in the wagon. Homunk sat in the middle and tried to read their eyes.

  What he found was neither comforting nor particularly alarming: the robots seemed to feel a certain awe paired with a determined fanaticism.

  The puzzle did not grow less but more.

  It was nearly unsolvable.

  After two hours of rapid driving, the vehicle stopped. Homunk estimated that they were now more than 200 kilometres from the spaceport. He began to be worried about Pucky. How would the mousebeaver find him again? Maybe he should have left a distinct trail behind him, some recognizable signs. But now it was too late for that.

  The 5 robots accompanied Homunk through a corridor into a round hall that was so like the first one that the android at first assumed that they had driven in a circle and had returned to it. Then various details told him that this robot brain was different from the one the commander had used to communicate with his superiors.

  The oval screen was activated and as the colour patterns flitted over the convex disk, as the orders came and answers were sent, even Homunk began to doubt his own mind.

  "I see," said the machine to the robots, "that you acted quickly and properly. Now we have evidence that we were right. Everyone will find out about it before the nonbelievers can act. They are stronger than we are but we are in the right. And we have him. He will help us."

  "Where should we take him?"

  "Into the temple of the holy city. That will convince everybody."

  "It will be done, master."

  Homunk could not translate all the ideas exactly. For many, there were only related concepts to help. One signal that had to do with him was entirely untranslatable. Also ‘temple’ and ‘holy’ were only vague substitutions for what they meant. In any case, it was clear from the short communication that there were two groups in fierce combat here. The believers and the non-believers.

  But it wasn’t only the robots that faced each other in hostility but also their creators and masters. It appeared to be a quarrel that did not concern power or wealth but an outlook on life. That was something so inconceivable that Homunk would rather have thought this all to be a delusion but the counter-indications were unmistakable. Above all, he had as yet no notion of having been selected as the decisive force in this conflict.

  At any rate, he had no desire to be handed back and forth between these hostile parties. He could not negotiate with the robots for there was no possibility of any communication with them; but he could perhaps speak with the aliens themselves.

  But no, there was a way to talk directly with the robots, too!

  Of course—the patterns on the oval screen! He could understand the symbols that served as means of communication between the robots and their masters. He could plug himself in and so establish contact with the robots. He could then at last ask to be taken to the real rulers of this peculiar world.

  The screen had gone out. Before Homunk could move, he was again taken into the car. He was treated with the highest respect but they also gave him no opportunity to say anythin
g even about this treatment. The courtesy of the robots was downright disarming.

  When the wagon started moving, Homunk decided that he would escape at the first opportunity.

  He wanted to ferret out the aliens from their hiding place on his own and so finally to put an end to all this uncertainty.

  4/ ELEVATION TO GODHOOD

  For Pucky, things were substantially more difficult despite his nearly unlimited mobility. He could not let himself be seen without risking immediate capture and execution by the robots. He could also not communicate with them and had no idea that there existed a robot brain with an oval screen on which colour patterns were to be seen.

  When he saw Homunk and the commander disappear into the dome structure, he waited for nearly half an hour. He floated above the ground at an altitude of two kilometres and had long since opened his space helmet for the air was fine and breathable. It was warm and he didn’t have to turn on his heating system.

  Below him lay the building complexes. They reached all the way to the horizon. There were enough signs to point to the fact that these were factories and other installations for the production of spaceships. A brief leap into one of these sheds confirmed his supposition. The production was fully automated. A single robot patrolled the assembly lines and the automatic presses, controlled the switchboards and checked the various stages of the production process.

  When half an hour had passed and neither Homunk nor the robot appeared again, Pucky teleported himself into the dome structure. He could see that he was too late. Two robots lay motionless in front of a huge monster of a machine. It was quite obvious that they had met with violence. The one showed evident traces of Homunk’s laser. The other exhibited much damage to his head.

  Pucky had no idea that he was being observed by the robot brain. He knew nothing about the hidden cameras or the oval screen. He was looking for Homunk, that was all. But he found no trace of which direction Homunk had gone.

  In any case, Homunk had not come out of the dome structure again, so there had to be a second exit. The door would not open but when Pucky worked on the hidden lock telekinetically, it slid aside. Behind it lay the tunnel with the guide rails.

  "That’s why I didn’t see anything," murmured the mousebeaver furiously. "They’ve taken him away. Now I’ll have the devil of a time finding him again. That’s really…"

  He broke off his thought as behind him he heard a rustling. About two dozen robots streamed into the dome structure and swarmed out in all directions. Pucky did the only sensible thing and teleported himself onto the robot brain. Here he had the best view and was covered from all sides, Directly below him the oval screen was flashing its commands. It ordered the robots to capture the little alien alive.

  It was Pucky’s misfortune that he was counting on rayguns rather than on paralysing rays whose beams could be reflected from the dome’s ceiling without harm to anything. He saw a few robots draw small weapons and aim them in his direction. He ducked down and waited. If they wanted to wipe him out, they would have to take the upper structure of their robot brain along with him. Just for fun, he hurled two of his adversaries against the wall and listened with satisfaction as metal clanged against metal. The robots didn’t know what was happening to them as they were suddenly lifted into the air by invisible forces. They were facing something they did not understand.

  Then Pucky suddenly saw the pale light beams race against the ceiling—and from there down towards him. Paralysis took hold of him so fast that he could not take any protective steps against it. He did not lose consciousness but did lose all parapsychic abilities. His eyes remained open though he couldn’t move. He lay there and waited. Remembrance of the past was dimmed in part, while certain parts of his brain were completely paralysed.

  One of the robots climbed on the machine and brought the captive down. He put him on the floor harshly and Pucky decided he’d make a special note of this particular fellow even though that was just about impossible. They all looked alike and bore no distinguishing marks.

  The screen gave its orders.

  Pucky could see the abstract colour pictures but they didn’t mean anything to him. All at once Pucky felt himself being lifted up and carried away. While they were placing him on the floor of a vehicle, he felt the paralysis slowly lifting from him.

  Not much longer and the robots would get the surprise of their lives, enough to make them believe in miracles. But Pucky had no idea that miracles were exactly what they could use least of all.

  When the car, which had been driving through the tunnel, came out of the concrete shaft, it was night. The only planet of the yellow sun had no moon but there was no need for one. The night was brighter than day. An even luminosity shone in from all sides and precluded all shadows. The entire sky from horizon to horizon resembled a radiant dome with millions of tiny lights. All the stars were equidistant from each other and so there was nothing that could be called a constellation.

  Homunk looked out the window. Outside was lonely countryside. In the distance rose a tall mountain chain: most likely the mountains at whose foothills the abandoned city lay. The ‘holy city’, as the aliens referred to it. As far as Homunk could tell, apparently the only city on the surface of this world.

  They wanted to take him there. Why?

  At the moment, the answer did not interest Homunk much. His first concern was to get together with Pucky again. The mousebeaver would be looking for him and as long as he was in captivity—or for that matter, simply in the custody of the robots—that was well-nigh impossible. The tunnels, he had found out, did not lead straight down the planet’s crust but ran along underneath the surface. Homunk was sure that he had to move around outside if he wanted to give Pucky the chance of finding him.

  The 5 robots who accompanied him did not sleep. Their eyes were always open and they looked at him with a certain shyness which seemed to Homunk ever more weird. Past events had convinced him that he was dealing with very special robots. They had a mentality of their own, while in reality they should simply have been programmed. They believed, although robots should only be filled with straight data. They had feelings. As robots they were entirely abnormal and unpredictable.

  Homunk felt his laser pistol still in his pocket. They had not disarmed him—also an entirely illogical way of behaving that was inconsistent with robot theory.

  Homunk turned a little until he was sitting so that he could see the control panel of the car. His previous observations had told him that the energy conduits were hidden under the panelling. If this could be cut off, the vehicle must come to a standstill.

  Carefully he drew his weapon and set it at peak performance. He took careful aim, so cautiously that none of his guards could guess his purpose. Then he pulled the trigger.

  The blinding energy beam hit the control panel in the middle. There were a few small explosions, then the melted metal flowed onto the ground and immediately hardened again. Squealing, the emergency brakes took hold. The car’s speed slowed, then the vehicle came to a stop with a hard jolt.

  Homunk did not stop to think. In one leap he was at the door, shoved it open and sprang outside. His feet touched the soft, natural ground. Even grass grew here. He thought for a moment. Should he paralyse the 5 robots? All in all, they had treated him well, and he had no reason to destroy them. At the same time, they must not follow him now.

  The door—!

  He pushed it shut and with lightning speed welded it to the side of the car. This way it would take some time before the robots could get free and pursue him.

  Homunk had to smile as he set out for the distant mountains. The robots had to follow an android, not a human being—the most developed android there had ever been. His energy was inexhaustible. He could run without pause until he’d circled the entire planet if need be. The robots could do the same but never so fast as he.

  Behind him the car with the feverishly active robots disappeared behind in a depression in the ground as he ran down to a fla
t valley. Far in front of him, Homunk saw the shimmering surface of a small lake that extended between him and the mountains. It did not count for an obstacle, however.

  Besides grass there were low shrubs and a few trees. He avoided these and ran ahead mechanically. Since movement was no exertion for him, he used the time to think about his circumstances. It was more tragicomical than really dramatic.

  Two different groups of robots were fighting over him. What role the aliens themselves took in this show was unclear. It seemed obvious, however, that they had split into two parties. The one wanted to kill him, the other regarded him as a valuable possession. It began to dawn on Homunk that he was a kind of key figure with which an ancient dispute would be settled. A dispute of a religious nature.

  It sounded so far-fetched that Homunk began to despair of his rationality. Robots, thinking for themselves and yet receiving orders as positronic machines, had discovered religious problems and were trying to solve them. Why particularly he, Homunk, was playing a role in all this was not at all clear. With all his logic he could find no answer to the puzzle.

  It he had thought less logically, he might perhaps have managed to figure it out.

  He did not diminish his speed, even when he had waded through the lake along its bottom surface and had reached a forest. The trees were not very dense but lent him some protection against any pursuers. From above, visibility was good, but it was hardly likely that he could be discovered by an airship.

  Gradually Homunk began to worry about Pucky. It was comforting to have the orders of the aliens say that the mousebeaver was not to be put to death, at least not right away. In any case, this particular order also advertised that Pucky was still alive and had escaped, just like Homunk. The only question was, how could they find each other again in a world that was as large as Earth.