A Choice of Gods

33

"Who is this person?" Reynolds asked Jason.

"His name is Stanley," Jason told him. "He is a robot from the Project. We told you of the Project, if you recall…"

"Oh, yes," said Harrison, "a superrobot being built by all his little brothers."

"I must protest your tone," said Hezekiah, sharply. "There is no reason for you to be supercilious. What this robot and his fellows do lies within the great tradition of your technology, to build bigger and better and with a greater imagination…"

"I beg your pardon," said Harrison. "But he came rushing in here…"

"He was invited," said Jason, coldly. "He had a long way to come. He has only now arrived."

"With a message?"

"It is from the Project," Stanley said.

"What is this message?" Harrison demanded.

"First I must explain it," said Stanley. "The Project, for some years now, has been in communication with intelligence somewhere in the central galaxy."

"Yes," said Reynolds. "We have been told of that."

"The message I carry," Stanley said, "is from that intelligence."

"And it has to do with the situation here?" asked Reynolds. "I find that ridiculous."

" It has to do with you," said Stanley.

"But how could it know? What would it know about the situation here? Certainly a great alien intelligence would not concern itself…»

"The message, directed to you and the rest of your party, is this: Leave Earth alone. No interference is allowed. It also is a part of the experiment."

"But I don't understand," Harrison said, angrily. "What experiment? What is it talking about? It makes no sense at all. Certainly, we have the right to know."

Stanley took a folded paper from a pouch. He tossed it across the table to Reynolds. "There is a copy of the message, off the printer."

Reynolds picked it up, glanced at it. "That is what it says. But I don't see the point. If you're trying another bluff…"

"It's the Principle," said Jason, speaking quietly. "That cinches it. We had wondered; now we know. The Project was talking with the Principle."

"A Principle?" yelled Harrison. "What is all this? We know of no Principle. It means nothing to us."

John sighed. "I don't suppose it does. We should have told you, but there was so much to tell. If you'll just settle back, I'll tell you about the Principle."

"Another fairy story, no doubt," Harrison said, angrily. "A phony message and now a fairy story. You people must think that we are stupid…"

"It doesn't matter now," said Jason. "It doesn't matter what you think. It's out of our hands entirely and it is out of yours."

John had been correct in his assumption, Jason told himself, that the people of the Earth had been made an experiment, in the same spirit and, perhaps, in much the same manner as a human bacteriologist or virologist would have experimented with a colony of bacteria or of virus. And if that were true, he realized with something of a shock, the people in this house and the little band of Indians and the other little group of people on the West Coast had not been missed. Rather, they deliberately had been left as a part of the experiment—as controls, perhaps.

John had said that by now the Principle would know that the strains of humanity ran true, but in the face of this new revelation, they must know as well that while in the mass humanity ran true, fragmented portions of it underwent mutation. For there were three human strains here—the people of this house and the Indians and the people on the coast. And of the three of them, two had been successful in their mutation and the third had gone to seed. Although, wait a minute, he told himself, that last conclusion is not true, for there was David Hunt. Thinking of him, he remembered how the music trees that evening of a week or two ago had suddenly regained their delicacy and poise and the incredible rumor he had heard from Thatcher this very afternoon. How was it, he wondered, the robots picked up the rumors before anyone else might be aware of them?

And the robots. Not three divergent strains, but four. Which was one up on the Principle, Jason thought with glee. He'd make any kind of bet (and be sure of winning) the Principle had not taken the robots into consideration. Although the robots, come to think of it, were a little frightening. What kind of contraption was this thing that could talk with the Principle and relay its message? And why had the Principle chosen it as spokesman? Simply because it had been there and handy? Or was there an affinity, an understanding, between the two of them that could not exist between the Principle and a human, or any other biologic form of life? He shivered at the thought of it.

"You remember," he said to Stanley, "that first you told us you could be of no help to us."

"I remember that," the robot said.

"But finally you were."

"I am very glad," said Stanley, "that we were able to help you in the end. You and we, I think, have very much in common."

"I sincerely hope we do," said Jason, "and I thank you from my heart."