Intruder

Chapter 15. Save The Last Dancer For Me

Ariel was exhausted but too jittery to sleep; She had spent the better part of two days working alternately with Avery and the dancers.

Avery was, as doctors or med-bots might say, responding to treatment. Under Ariel’s relentless questioning, assisted by many queries from Adam (she had briefed him on the types of questions to ask), the doctor had sunk into a depressed but much more rational state. He treated Adam politely, even though Adam had chosen to continue to look like him.

Sometimes, when Adam asked Avery a question, Ariel got confused. The question would be in Avery’s old, madder voice-abrupt, condescending, sharp-dictioned-but the real Avery would respond in an un-Averylike voice; quieter, kinder, sad. Yet the technique, one never used before in psychiatric circles-a robot interrogator who could become an exact double of the patient-seemed to have good effects. Avery’s responses to Adam tended to dig deeper into the man’s psyche, brought out more interesting possibilities. His responses to Ariel were more evasive, cloudier. It became her task to follow up on the clues drawn out by Adam. She would zero in on any hint, any opportunity; make any remarks about any revelations; do anything, finally, to make Avery talk.

In the last two days, Avery had become more relaxed, calmer. Many of the things he said were still outrageous, and he could not get off the subject of wanting to dissect a dancer, but he no longer ranted, and his sarcasm was considerably reduced. He seemed-to Ariel at least-more rational, though hardly sane, and still not very nice.

Now Avery had concluded that he was better off as a human than he had been when he’d thought of himself as a robot.

“No real insight there,” Ariel commented. “I should think that would be obvious.”

“No, no. You do not understand me.” When he was misunderstood, he had a tendency to pat the outside of his right thigh nervously with his right hand. “I still think of robots as the greatest entities of all. The perfect creatures, without emotion or aging; you know that old routine, I suspect?”

“I do. Schoolbook stuff back on Aurora. But I don’t agree that an invention without a true inner life or without feelings is worth being, no matter how long it exists.”

“Well, I did. In some ways I still do. I’ve always wanted a life of the mind, not of the emotions. And I’ve wanted to live longer than our natural lifespans.”

“An Auroran lives so long, I’m surprised you’d even worry. Isn’t the real issue your fear of death?”

He laughed scoffingly. “More schoolbook stuff, Ariel. If one wants to live forever, you reality-distorters automatically knee-jerk the idea of fear of death.”

“Hey, I’m young and I fear death.”

“That attitude is only sensible. We all have it. But I don’t care about death itself. If it comes, I’ll shake its hand and lead it off. No, it’s the chance to watch history, to see what will happen further in science, that’s the reason I want the long life of a robot. I want to see if the Settler worlds will succeed or perish from their own boorish and violent ways. I want to see if Earth can somehow survive its terrible, claustrophobic ways of life, or will decay and be destroyed from the inside, becoming a ghost planet, a worn-out memorial to what humanity once was. I want to see if Spacers-”

“Don’t get carried away by your own rhetoric, Dr. Avery. I get the message. It’s not fear of death, it’s a need to know the future.”

“Simplistically stated, but essentially correct. At any rate, I spent so much time with robots and thought so much about them that eventually I wanted to be one, needed to be one. I’d still like to be one. The difference is I no longer believe I am one.”

She turned the care of Avery back to Adam and took a short walk across the room to confront her other problem. Eve, now restored to her Ariel form, sat beside the desk, merely staring at the dancers, the five who were left. The other nine had all died quietly or, as Avery would have it, “ceased operation.”

Just looking at the remaining quintet made Ariel sad. She had hoped for great communicative advances when she had started working with the tiny creatures. So little had really been accomplished. The games were cute, and some of their behavior showed a minimal intelligence, but no language had been conveyed, only a few hand signals. The gestures were significant, but not enough for Ariel.

She had this faint sense that she had failed. And the apparent success of her other project, Avery, somehow did not compensate for her failure with the dancers.

“Anything new, Eve?” she said as she sat down in her customary chair.

“Nothing. They merely sit, holding hands like that. They never even look up at us anymore.”

“Perhaps they think that their gods are punishing them.”

“I do not understand. Their gods?”

“Us, Eve.”

“Would you explain?”

“Well, we-never mind. Ignore the comment.”

There was something morbid about Eve’s vigil over the remaining dancers. Each time one died, she insisted on taking it away, presumably to bury it. Ariel had never asked her where she went or exactly how she had performed the ritual. She did not want to know. The thought of Eve in a lonely, dark area, performing death rites for a dancer made Ariel shudder.

Avery, still demanding that one be handed over to him for study, had fussed over the first four or five deaths. Ariel’s adamant support of Eve had apparently discouraged him. He had been silent on the matter for some time. Once she tried to introduce the subject, but he h’dd dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

At times Ariel wished the dancers would finish their dying. Then she could return to Derec and help him in restoring the city. He had made some progress lately, managing to convince the computer to make all the lights of the city work again. And some utility robots had been seen picking up street debris. Water no longer tasted brackish, and the food coming out of the processors actually had flavor. But Derec wasn’t satisfied, he said. There were still so many things out of whack, and the essential mystery of why the city had deteriorated in their absence remained.

Wolruf came into the room. She was returning from stilt another meal with Derec and Mandelbrot. Ariel didn’t blame her for spending more time with them. Since Adam had begun working with Avery, there had been little for Wolruf to do here.

Coming to the desk, Wolruf glanced down at the dancers. “They look worrse, ‘u think?”

“Much worse.”

“What can I do?”

“Nothing much anyone can do.”

“Could ‘u just sset them loosse?”

“Why?”

“They could die in peace, alone. On my worrld, there iss a custom of dying alone.”

“Perhaps you’re right. But I think it’s too late for such a compassionate act. They’re too far gone.”

“Yess, I ssee, I think.”

When she turned her attention back to the desktop, Ariel saw one of the dancers, a once-chubby, now-emaciated male, break his grip on two of the others and fall backward.

Eve, now so used to a dancer’s passing, immediately scooped up the corpse and strode out of the room. Ariel, staring after her, said, “And then there were four. Soon, none. It won’t be long now.”

She glanced over toward Avery. He was now looking at her with some concern in his face. How sane of him, she thought.

Timestep, in his corner, had seen Bogie leave. Then, a short time later, he witnessed his return. After Bogie had gone back to his corner, Timestep catalogued the oddities. First, if not summoned by Derec or even Mandelbrot, why had Bogie left the corner in the first place? Second, where had he gone? Third, why was his return so secretive? Fourth, an important fourth, what was it that looked so wrong about Bogie?

Derec reentered the room, followed by Mandelbrot. He was silent, his index finger tapping on his chin thoughtfully. Timestep studied the tap. It was too slow, unrhythmic. He would not have been able to use it for any dancing step he knew. (All the while he stood in his corner he called up from his memory banks the dances he had memorized and visualized how he would do them if his feet were not forbidden to move just now.)

Across the way, Bogie appeared to lean forward, which seemed odd to Timestep. But then Bogie had left the corner and returned to it on his own, so a simple bending at the waist should not seem so out of the ordinary.

“Bogie!” Derec called, and Bogie came out of his corner. Did Timestep observe a hesitation before his companion moved?

“Did you think we’d forgotten you, Bogie?” Derec asked.

Bogie hesitated before saying, “That you would forget about me would not occur to me, Master Derec.”

“You seem a little sluggish. And what’s this Master Derec? What happened to ‘kid,’ ‘kiddo,’ ‘pal’?”

“I felt momentarily respectful, Mast-kiddo.”

Derec narrowed his eyes as he stared at Bogie. “Are you functional? Should I send you to the Robot Repair Facility for a diagnostic scan or a tune-up?”

“That will not be necessary. Pal.”

For a moment Derec seemed unsure. “That’s okay,” he finally said. “Tell me, Bogie, what do you know about our mysterious controller?”

“I know nothing of a mysterious controller, sir.”

“Weren’t you supposed to tell me there was a block on that information, something like that?”

Again Bogie hesitated. “The nature of the block upon information does not include such a question as the one you asked. Kid.”

Derec smiled. “Very good. It was a sort of ‘do you still beat your wife’ question, wasn’t it?”

“I do not have a wife. Kiddo.”

“It’d be an idea, though. Robot husbands and wives. Robot families. I might work on it when the mess here is cleared up. Would you like a family, Bogie?”

“I cannot have a family.”

“Isn’t there a family feeling among robots?”

“No, sir. Pal.”

“Okay, okay. You’ll have to forgive me. I’m bone-weary, and my mind isn’t even forming casual conversation effectively. Bogie?”

“Yes, Master-Pal.”

“I need Wolruf back here. Go to the medical facility and fetch her.”

“Fetch?”

“Bring her back here. In fact, since she just left, you might be able to catch up with her even before she reaches the medical facility. Well, what are you waiting for? Get a move on.”

“Yes, sir.”

Derec stared at the empty doorway for a long while after Bogie left. He seemed preoccupied. Then he turned suddenly and bellowed: “Timestep!”

Timestep immediately left his corner and went to Derec. “Yes, Master Derec?”

“Is something wrong with Bogie? Anything another robot can discern?”

“I do not know, sir.”

“Let me put it another way. Was that Bogie who just left here?”

“I do not know, sir.”

Derec looked worried. “Well, that’s some progress. You would know for certain if it was, wouldn’t you, Timestep?”

“Yes, Master Derec.”

“Then there’s a possibility that something has happened to Bogie?”

“Yes, that seems possible.”

“Is he malfunctioning?”

“I do not know, sir.”

“Right. I have to phrase the question differently. Is there a possibility that a robot such as Bogie could malfunction?”

“It is possible, but there would have to be a reason. He would have to be forced to resolve a dilemma involving the Laws of Robotics, or he would have to be given an order he could not carry out.”

“Are they the only possible reasons for him to act uncharacteristically?”

“No.”

“What’s another?”

“He is no longer Bogie as we knew him. He has been reprogrammed or has reprogrammed himself.”

“Mandelbrot? Do you agree with Timestep?”

“Yes. But there is another possibility. I tried to speak with him through comlink and he did not respond to his name. Also, there was a series of nicks along his right side before. They are no longer there.”

“What do you think about him?”

“I think it is not Bogie. I think it is someone else.”

“Our mysterious controller?”

“I cannot know that. But it is a possibility.”

“Timestep, what about this? Could it not be Bogie?”

“That is possible, sir.”

“Go after him, the both of you. Corner him. Bring him back to me.”

The two robots left the room, and Derec began to pace. He sensed that he was going to regain his control of the city. Even the chemfets inside him seemed to be reviving.

The rest of the dancers did not survive for long. Eve disposed of the next three, then returned for a somber death watch over the last, the formerly sturdy woman who had been the leader of the dancers. She was lying in the center of the desk, looking pale and weak, with no one to hold on to anymore. Ariel had leaned down close, watching the slight breathing movements of her tiny chest.

“I wonder what she thinks,” Ariel said to Wolruf

“Iss odd to me to wonderr what such a ssmall being thinkss.”

“Oh? We humans wonder about such things all the time. Part of our charm: our limitless curiosity about the universe.”

“I have at timess noticed ssuch.”

Avery, weary of the session with Adam, came to the desk. He stared down at the remaining dancer, whose arms rose upward for a moment in a characteristically graceful way.

“Let me have this one,” he said softly, sounding quite sane about it. “She is our last chance to find out something about them.”

“No,” Eve said. “I must take care of her.”

“Your care of them has been admirable, Eve,” Avery said, “but we shouldn’t waste this one on mere ritual, especially on ritual misunderstood by a robot. Ariel? It’s your decision really.”

“And you’ll abide by it?”

He sighed theatrically, as if assuming any judgment would be against him. “I will.”

Ariel looked from Eve to Avery, not certain how to say what she had been planning to say for some time.

“Eve, Dr. Avery is right. We must know about them, we-”

“But I must bury her.”

In a quick move, she picked up the last dancer from the desktop and held it close to her chest.

“Eve, put her back. You can’t bury her right now. She is still alive.”

“Alive is not the correct word,” Avery said.

“Shut up with your logic for once,” Ariel said. “Eve, I order you to return the dancer to the desk. You must obey my order. That is the Second Law, and the Laws are part of you, isn’t that true? You sense them inside you, don’t you?”

“No. Yes. I cannot be sure. Something seems to tell me to obey you, but I am not sure that I can.”

“You must. It is Second Law.”

“It is not just Second Law,” Adam said. He was standing behind Avery. “It is what we must do. We cannot continue if we do not discover what is wrong with the city, and the dancers are part of the mystery. Return the dancer, Eve.”

Eve gently settled the dancer back onto the desktop, then resumed her customary vigil.

“Eve,” Ariel said gently, “it is important to me to know whether or not these tiny creatures are living beings or merely some kind of experimental robots or even, as Dr. Avery has suggested, toys.”

“They are robots,” Eve said. “I have sensed no life in them, the kind of life I have felt coming from you, Derec, Wolruf. What I detect in them is the same as what comes to me from Mandelbrot and the other robots.” She pointed to the last dancer. “This, I believe, is a robot.”

Ariel was shocked. “You mean, you’ve known this all the time and not said anything about it?”

“You did not request it from me. And no, I did not know it all the time. Or even most of the time. When I first encountered these creatures in the vacant lot, I received my first glimmerings. As Adam did at the time, I felt little life in them. But I had not experienced much of this world, or any other world, and I was not sure at the time what constituted a living being and what constituted a robot. As I watched the dancers, I understood more and more what they were. My certainty has only come recently.”

“Eve, I-”

“Eve,” Avery interrupted, “what do you feel coming from Adam, coming from inside yourself? Do you feel, as you say, a living being or robot?”

“I cannot say. It is different. We are different.”

“That is so,” Adam said. “Since I came to awareness on the kin’s planet, I have not been certain what I am. I accept that we are robots, but actually, inside myself, I feel neither living being nor robot.”

“Fair enough,” Avery said.

“Eve,” Ariel said, “If you knew the dancers were not human, why did you treat them as humans?”

“I was not aware I was.”

“You cared for them, awarded them human death rituals, buried them as if they’d died. If they’re robots, then they didn’t really die and didn’t need to be treated as such.”

“They ceased to exist,” Eve said. “Isn’t a robot’s death as significant as a human’s?”

“Mistress Ariel,” Adam said, “you buried the robot Jacob Winterson on the blackbodies’ planet, did you not?”

“But that’s-I was about to say it was different, but you’re right, Adam, it’s not. I cared about Jacob the way Eve apparently cared for the dancers. You did care for them, didn’t you, Eve?”

“I am not sure what you mean. I performed rituals that I believed were appropriate.”

“Don’t go robotic on me now, Eve. You did feel compassion for them, sadness when they died.”

“There was an awareness of loss. Is that sadness, Ariel?”

“I don’t know, Eve. I’m not even sure I can get a sense of it.”

They watched each other silently for a time, then both looked down at the last dancer. She was still breathing.

“I must still order you, Eve,” Ariel said, “to allow Dr. Avery to perform his examination without interference. We need to know the facts that his work will show us.”

“Yes. That now seems logical.”

“Logical. Why logical now?”

“Enough information has been presented to me, and I understand the need. So I conclude agreement.”

“No wonder you are not sure what you are. I’m not sure what you are, both of you.”

When the last dancer had died, hours later, Avery gently picked it up from the desktop and went to a far comer of the room. A few minutes later he came back with a number of slides. Placing them under a microscopic scanner and transmitting images of his findings onto its large screen, he showed Ariel the infinitesimal microchips and circuit boards, miniature servo motors, linkages, wires.

“As I suspected,” Avery said, but without his usual smugness, “they are cleverly designed albeit ineffective robots capable of limited humanlike behavior. The use of genetic materials was skillful, but the maker could not compensate for their rapid aging process. If he had, these might have been quite successful little humaniform robots.”

Ariel stared at the screen without visible emotion. She didn’t know what to feel. Relief that they were not tiny humans or sadness that, whatever they were, they had existed and only for a very short time.

Finally, she took a cloth and wiped off the desktop. “Well,” she said, “that’s it then. Let’s go see if we can help Derec.”

Before they left, Avery handed Eve a small box. When Eve asked what it was, he said it was the remains of the last dancer. He was turning it over to her for whatever disposal she chose. She carried it away.