Alice: The Girl From Earth

Chapter Five: The master of the pirate Island

The island at which the boat came to anchor with its prisoners was small, stony, and although it lay not far from the coast, rarely did boats put in to harbor. There was nothing to see here. Once upon a time, two or three hundred years in the past, smugglers had lived on the island and constructed houses rather, huts out of the stones. Their roofs had long since fallen in, but you could still find refuge from the winds inside. Not long ago archeologists had worked here. The archeologists had found nothing, but they left behind a number of pits and trenches cut in the center of the island.

The island was not marked on the maps. It was too small and insignificant, and offered no great threat to shipping. Very few people looked in on this empty corner of the Crimean coast.

Alice, of course, knew none of this. For her the island was a large cliff rising from the water, a rocky desert without a single tree.

The sun had set already, and the island was overcome with purple twilight and gloom. That barge that had run aground on the rocks looked black.

When the boat reached the rocks another robot, just as big and rusty as the first two that had made Alice prisoner, came out of the ruins of a hut and went down to the water.

“You have the loot?” It asked.

“One large human and one small.” A robot said.

“Not a bad beginning.” The new robot said. “I will report to the Chief.” It turned, its joints creaked and scraped, and it vanished into the ruins, the former smugglers’ den.

One of the robots pulled Alice and the old man to the shore, turning off the engine’s controls. The other untied the prisoners hands and pulled the gag out of Alice’s mouth.

“What sort of thugs are you?” Alice said, gasping for air. “You may be able to treat me this way, but what will happen to you when people find out what you’re doing?”

It was as if the robots did not hear her. They stood ‘at ease,’ and they waited at ease, ignoring Alice and the old man robot, until until the robot that had come out of the ruins and gone back returned.

“The General thanks you for your service.” It said.

The two robots stamped their feet in place and froze.

“The General cannot look at your loot now. He is busy.” The robots stamped their feet again and froze again.

“You may rest.” The local robot said. “But only know what measures to take. Is that clear?”

“Aye, aye, sir!” The robots said in chorus, their round eyes flashed and they left, forgetting completely about the captives.

The old man sat down on the sparse yellow grass and said:

“True barbarians.”

“Grandfather,” Alice spoke to him; she had quite forgotten that he was a robot himself. “Grandfather, have you ever seen metal robots before?”

“‘Robots?’ Is that, then, what has made us captive?”

“Yes. Of course, you wouldn’t know.”

Alice had occasion to see many robots, many different types of robots, before, but she had never seen robots constructed of real, heavy metal rather than light plasteel, at least not on Earth. Manufacturing a robot out of metal was inefficient. The robot came out extremely heavy, expensive, and overly complicated.

“Grandfather, we have to signal the coast.” Alice said. “So they can come and rescue us.”

“That’s the spirit, granddaughter.” The old man said. “Our side never sleeps. I remember it like yesterday, how we went up the hill in Manchuria, with General Gurko in the lead on his white horse….”

And the old man was lost in useless remembrances of events about which in truth he could have remembered nothing at all, since he had only come out of the factory the week before.

“Grandfather, do you have a light?”

“A what?”

“Fire. A lighter. A lamp…”

“There’s iron and flint on me somewhere…” The old man rooted around in the pockets of his grey jacket, but he found nothing.

“I must have dropped it.”

Two robots appeared on the stony path. Each of them was carrying an enormous rock.

“These fortifications they are erecting. Who are they defending against?” The old man asked. “Is it that the Turks are on the move again?”

“No. It’s the people who live along the coast they fear.”

“And that might be…”

“What?”

“I’ve forgotten, girl from hither and yon. My mind wanders, it’s old age or the stroke.” The old man said sadly. “We have to be on our guard, despite the lack of time. Aha! I remember: we can do it, we can light a fire to make a smoke signal.”

“But you don’t have any way to make a fire.”

“What we cannot do, we cannot do.” The old man agreed.,

Alice and the old man walked slowly along the shore. From where they stood it was evident the robots had done an enormous amount of work on the island. Shallow trenches provided with breastworks ran right down to the water line. In one spot a log, coarsely cut to imitate an old fashioned artillery piece, stuck out a little bit higher. The log brought the old man to a condition of tumultuous rapture.

“Look at it, look!” He muttered. “Flintlocks, long range mortars! We’d dash aside from one of these, and not a single heathen for miles around! Weapons to the front! Case shot to the right! Case shot to the left!”

“They’re just made out of wood, Grandfather.” Alice laughed. “It’s to deceive their enemies. “Those can’t shoot at anyone.”

“That is true.” The grandfather-film robot agreed. “So they want to deceive? Who?”

“You, grandfather. And perhaps other people as well.”

“So it’s me they want to deceive, is it? Me? Why, I would have seen through it in a minute! They could never have hidden anything from me, girl from hither and yon!”

They sat down on an enormous, flat rock.

“Such beauty….” The old man suddenly sighed.

Alice was somewhat surprised that the old man could think about the natural beauty of the spot a this moment, but he was right.

From the shore beyond the silver water the Crimean mountains lifted like a toothy wall. They sky overhead went from green to lilac the sun dropped behind the hills, but not all that far and it reached the few, tattered rags of clouds with its rays.

The first lights had appeared as golden points beneath the toothy summits and at the edge of the water, but there was no way to tell which of those lights was the film company’s camp. A moment later Alice saw a pod of dolphins moving through the water not far from the island.

“Hey, dolphins!” Alice shouted. “Tell my friends they kidnaped us!”

“Stop shouting, or you will go into the water!” A voice came from behind her. Alice turned and saw the rusty robot standing behind them.

“Now I will show them!” It said.

The robot went away and came back in a few minutes with a strange instrument in its hand. The instrument resembled an old fashioned bow. The robot placed a thick, home made arrow on the wire bow-string and fired. The bow was roughly made and improperly balanced and therefore the arrow flew to one side, well away from the dolphins.

Then the robot corrected for his weapon’s imprecision and shot not at the dolphins, but to the other side. On this occasion the crossbow bolt splashed heavily into the water not ten meters from the dolphin pod. The dolphins, evidently, understood that their enemies were on the island, and immediately vanished into the sea as though they had never been. The robot proudly patted his bow with his metal hand and said:

“Even with this primitive weapon we can vanquish any enemy. What matters is not the weapon, but the Leader!”

“And who is your leader?” Alice asked.

“A miserable slave such as you hasn’t even the right to pronounce his name.”

“I’m no one’s slave. There aren’t any slaves any more.” Alice said. She had already taken ancient history and knew about slaves.

“There will be.” The robot said; he placed another arrow on the bow string and shot it into the sea in the direction of the half sunken boat that had run aground on the rocky shore.

“How did you shoot at that boat?” Alice asked. “How did you get to be so strange?

“We sailed here on it.” The robot said. “On that boat, at which I have now shot my straight arrow, in order to demonstrate for you the irresistability of my rage.”

“You speak very well.” Alice said.

“I am the detachment’s commander, the corporal. The others are limited. They know only a hundred words. I know a whole thousand.”

From the ruins came a racket, as though someone were beating a metal sheet with a stick.

“Evening roll call.” The robot shouldered his bow, and turned with a horrible squeaking noise, and started to trudge up the land. “Maybe we can dive and swim to the shore.” Alice thought aloud.

“Don’t even think of it.” The old man said. “I will not let thee. You would put your young life in danger in the watery abyss.”

Alice realized that there really was no way the old man robot could let her try it. Robots were directed to help people in the moment of danger and would rather die than subject a human being to danger. And even if this was a film robot, the Laws of Robotics would have been installed in its electronic brain as well.

“Then let’s go look at their roll call. At least then we’ll know how many of them there are.”

The sun had totally vanished; the water had become bluish grey, and the first large southern stars had begun to appear in the sky. Very high, among the stars, Alice made out the contrail of a passenger liner. They have to be looking for us, Alice thought. But how can they even guess that we’re on this island.

In the square formed by the ruins stood a line of nine metal robots. Three of them held bows in thier hands, while the rest carried thick iron rods. The robots were black against the background of the deep blue sky and were so motionless they appeared to be statues erected and left here many years ago.

“Even space between you, boys.” The robot on the end said. “Tenn-Hutt!” The command was utterly wasted; the robots stood so stiffly that they stood perfectly to attention always.

The robot who had given the command started to drum on his own chest with his metal hands, and the drum beat resounded forth across the quiet evening sea.

A door made out of steel sheet on the smuggler’s hut was pushed to one side and another metal robot came out into the square, scarcely moving his feet. It was taller than the others and there was a rusty helmet on his head, and his chest was decorated with crudely cut crosses. Alice realized that this was the chief robot.

The general opened its mouth slowly several times but no sounds emerged other than the rusty creaking. Finally, it angled its head upward, something clicked and an unexpectedly thin and squeaky voice emerged from its enormous chest.

“Hello, Boys!” It said.

“Hello, Chief!” The robots chorused.

“Report.” The general said.

The nearest robot stepped forward and said:

“We have finished constructing the wall. Robots Two and Three have carried out a reconnaissance of the Continent. Two prisoners have been taken. Weapons were not located.”

“Bad.” The General said. “Terrible. Insufficient. Idiots. The bomb shelter?”

“Will be ready tomorrow. In the second watch.”

“I commend you for your diligence. Bring me the prisoners. Set a guard for the night. All hail me, your Leader!”

“Hooray!” The robots shouted.

“You have rusted, but you have kept your powder dry.”

The general turned, lifting one foot, but the foot would not go back down again. He hoped around in unsteady equilibrium and could have toppled over onto the stones at any moment. The wall of robots stood there unmoving.

“Help me!” The general ordered. “Push my foot down. Quickly!”

“Which of us will go to your aid?” The nearest robot asked.

“You.”

The robot obeyed. With all its weight it pushed on the general’s upraised leg until the stuck limb finally went back down to the stones with a loud creak. Limping, the General went back to the ruins.

“Where are the prisoners?” The robot who had helped the General asked.

“They are right here. Did they not hear what was ordered?”

The old man and Alice and gone up to the ruins and entered. In side it was almost entirely dark, and only an uneven twilight came in through a few cracks and spaces in the half ruined roof.

The ruined house was filled with metal junk, trash, and old tin cans. In one corner stood a bag, right beside it a rudely cut limestone block. The Robot General sat on the block beside the bag and held a large pair of scissors in one hand. The bag was stuffed with pieces of tin can and boxes of concentrates. Evidently, the archaeologists and tourists who had spent time here, had felt it was better to lay their accumulated garbage into their old trenches than dump it into the sea. The General was cutting a complicated, many-pointed star from the top of a tin can.

“You’ve come.” It asked, not letting the scissors out of its hand. “Stand where you are and come no closer. I cannot stand humans. And be silent. I am busy. I am making a medal. Beautiful, isn’t it? Why don’t you answer? You are doing the right thing; I have not ordered you to answer yet.”

Finally the robot finished its work, attached the piece of tin to its chest, and seemed pleased.

“Beautiful.” It said. “We will begin the interrogation. You with the beard will answer first. What is your name?”

“Let it never be said that I gave any information to such an Iron Monstrosity? No, never.”

“Which detachment?” The robot continued as if the old man had said nothing. “How man robots and battle machines? Tanks? Cannons? You will answer now.”

“I said, I will not answer a single question. When General Gurko led us into battle he said: “‘Don’t think of your widows and orphans, boys or we won’t take Mount Sapan by storm!’ Or something like that.”

“Write it down.” The Robot General said to his aid. “Their Commander is General Gurko.”

“I have nothing to write with, Chief.” The robot said.

“Of course you have nothing to write with. And don’t lie to me. You aren’t able to write at all. None of us can write. And this is good. When we are victorious, no one will ever write again. And what shall we do when we are victorious? You ask. And you? And You? You don’t know. We shall march. That is all. And work. And enforce order and discipline.”

“That will never happen.” Alice said. “You don’t understand anything or you’ve gone out of your mind. It’s time to turn you off and throw you into the trash; you’re even all rusty. What I can’t understand is why you haven’t been sent to a scrap metal foundry already.”

“Silence!” The robot said. There was a grinding sound, a gnashing of metal, a burbling of hydraulic fluid, and the robot repeated: “Silence….” The robot blew air through its acoustic system a moment, and continued:

“Silence! After your interrogation you will be thrown into the lock-up. Do you understand? Now, tell me your name? What is your unit? How much artillery do you have? Where are the tactical nuclear weapons situated?”

“I don’t understand the word you used. What tactical nuclear weapons? What cannon?”

“You will be locked up.” The general said. “We will thrash you. We will drive you before us with whips!”

“You would do better to keep your mouth shut!” The old man grew very angry. “Who are you to drive anyone anywhere? Who do you think you are talking to? I’ll….”

“Hold him!” The robot General shouted to his robot aide de camp. “He is attacking!”

The robot aide grabbed the old man from behind with his enormous claws. The old man’s hat fell off and coarse synthetic hairs scattered in all directions.

“Good.” The General said to the robot. “You will receive a medal. There is no way he could have defeated me. I am a fatalist. Do you understand what that means? It means I fear nothing and nothing endangers me. Not even rifle fire frightens me. Not even the direct application of explosive charges.”

The Robot General rose to his full height. His rusty joints screamed.

“Damnable Rust!” It said. “There are no lubricants. Tomorrow on the march you will capture lubricants and machine oil. Tomorrow the prisoners will be put to work on the construction of fortifications. That is all. I have spoken. That is my order.”

“I serve you!” The other robot answered.

“Take this medal and weld it to your chest. You are now awarded.”

“A joy to serve you, sir.” The robot answered and clutched the top of the tin can to its chest so it would not fall, and started to lead the lead the prisoners outside.

Turning, Alice saw that the general had seated itself before the bag again and was again cutting up pieces of tin cans.

“Stop.” The general’s voice brought them to a halt before the door. “I have entirely forgotten. It’s the damned rust. Humans, do you want to serve me? Will you serve faithfully. I will give you medals.”

“No, we don’t.” Alice answered for both of them. “We’re not going to serve anyone, and we’re not afraid of anyone.”

“We will see what tale you sing tomorrow,” The General said, “when an iron arrow pierces your soft human hearts. Go.” But the prisoners and their guard had only moved a few more steps when the general’s scratchy voice ordered them back. They had to return.

“Again I have forgotten.” The General said. “Is Moscow very far from here?”

“Far enough.” Alice answered. “You’d never get there on foot. But they can carry you there in a freight train and turn you into giant candle holders. The latest fashion.”

“Shoot them immediately!” The robot general said.

“We cannot.” The subordinate robot said. “It’s grown dark. We might miss.”

“Those of you who would bring terror to all, turn on the floodlights in your heads!

“Impossible. You ordered us to economize on energy, Chief.”

“Then to the lock-up. To the lock-up!”

“I’ve had enough of your pointless noise; you’re just getting me angry; go to your lockup yourself!” The old man said. “I’m going to shoot you now with my own stick.”

The old main raised his walking stick to his shoulder and took aim with it as though it were an old style rifle, straight at the Robot General. Either the old man had totally lost his robot reason from fear, or he really did not know the difference between a rifle and a walking sick, or he just wanted to frighten the robot, but the results turned out disastrous for him.

The General-Fatalist grew terrified and collapsed on the floor with a loud clang but the second robot struck the old man on the forehead with his own iron fist.

The head of the old man shattered, scattering the tiny workings of his electronic brain. The old man staggered back and forth, made several uncertain steps, but his coordination centers had already been destroyed, and he collapsed on the floor beside the Robot General.

Alice froze from terror and grief. The old man, even if he had not been a real flesh and blood human being, had been her lone defender on this wild island and she had come to think of him like she would her own, living grandfather. And then they killed him. Even worse, the robot who killed him thought he was a human being, and that meant that something very terrible had taken place. These robots could kill people.

Alice knew robots very well; they were a part of the world in which she lived. When Alice had been very young, she had had a robot baby sitter; it knew all sorts of stories and was even able to change diapers. House robots to make the beds, pick up children’s toys, prepare breakfasts were very common. But most of all robots were used in the places where people were not interested in working. Industrial robots had little in common with human beings they were more thinking machines and tools who laid down roads, mined ore, and swept streets. The taxi cab that Alice had called to take her around the city and to Bertha’s was also a robot programmed with street maps and the traffic code. The day before Alice had flown to the Crimea she had seen a robot space ship on the television. It not only carried freight to the Lunar stations but it loaded itself as well, fly to the moon, land in the spot ordered by the dispatcher, and deliver the precise number of containers to the lunar colonists.

Robots had first put in their appearance long ago, at least two hundred years back, but only in the last hundred years Alice had studied all of this in the first grade had they taken such an enormous place in people’s lives. There were as many robots on Earth as there were people, but there had never been an instance where robots had risen up against the human race. That was impossible. Unthinkable. It was like a frying pan the most ordinary frying pan refusing to heat soup, or attacking its user with its cover. It was people who made the robots, and it was people who had programmed into robots the special programs called the Laws to defend the human race from its creations. No matter how large a robots electronic brain might be, that brain could not conceive of disobedience.

This meant the robots on the island had all succeeded in getting broken in a way no other robots had ever before been broken in the past, or and Alice did not even think of this possibility they had been constructed by people who for some reason decided that the robots should lack the Laws that defended the human race.

It grew quiet. The General lifted his head and saw the old man lay broken beside him. The General turned on the light from his own head lamp and saw the old man was made not from flesh and blood, but from electronic components.

“Treason!” It shouted. “They have betrayed us! Gather everyone for a meeting.”

“What about the other human. Perhaps it too…”

“The lock-up for now. There is no time to learn the details now. Tomorrow the human will be questioned with all severity. But…”

The second robot inclined its head and, pushing Alice toward the exit, strode forward, propelling her from behind with its dirty finger.

The lock-up turned out to be a pit with sharp walls. The robot just pushed Alice over the edge, and she landed painfully on stones and dirt, but she did not start to cry. What had happed to her and to the old man-film robot was so serious that it was simply impossible to cry.