At first Anna sincerely believed, and earnestly expressed to Android Karenina, that she was displeased with him for daring to pursue her. But soon after her return from Moscow, on arriving at a soiree where she had expected to meet him, and not finding him there, she realized distinctly from the rush of disappointment that she had been deceiving herself, and that this pursuit was not merely not distasteful to her, but that it made the whole interest of her life.
Their next meeting occurred soon after, at another soiree, this one at the home of Princess Betsy.
As the princess’s guests arrived at the wide entrance one by one, the stout II/Porter/7e62 noiselessly opened the immense door, letting the visitors pass by into the house. Almost at the same instant the hostess, with freshly arranged coiffure and freshened face, walked in at one door and her guests at the other door of the drawing room, a large room with dark walls, downy rugs, and a brightly lighted table, gleaming with the light of lumiéres, white cloth, a II/Samovar/l(16) in fashionable platinum, and transparent china tea things.
Some guests were amused, and others discomfited, to find in attendance at the gathering a Class III named Marionetta, who had no owner-she was a decom, an android whose owner had died without heir, or else been denounced as a Janus and exiled. Betsy thought it endlessly amusing to have such pitiful creatures at her petites fêtes, where she would treat the humanless robots as if they were her own sad little bear cubs to be baited. Typically decoms were junkered within days of their obsolescence, but Betsy obtained them, it was rumored, through some secret connection in the Ministry-though surely not within the Higher Branches, as no one from that elite cadre would dare enact such brazen pilferage.
Princess Betsy sat down at the table and took off her gloves, handing them with a flourish to Marionetta, who folded them neatly before stowing them carefully in a drawer, pathetically grateful for the small assignment. The party began, and chairs were set with the aid of II/Footman/74s, moving almost imperceptibly about the room; the party settled itself, divided into two groups: one round the samovar near the hostess, the other at the opposite end of the drawing room, round the handsome wife of an ambassador, in black velvet, with sharply defined black eyebrows and a Class III with nearly identical, equally imposing facial features. In both groups conversation wavered, as it always does, for the first few minutes, broken up by meetings, greetings, offers of tea, and, as it were, feeling about for something to rest upon.
Marionetta meanwhile flickered her feeble eyebank at everyone, offering small gestures of usefulness, lighting cigars and distributing drinks. Betsy’s beloved-companion, Darling Girl, laughed mercilessly at her fellow robot, her own eyebank flashing scarlet.
Round the samovar and the hostess the conversation vacillated in just the same way between three inevitable topics: the latest piece of public news, the theater, and scandal. It finally came to rest on the last topic, that is, ill-natured gossip.
“Anna Karenina is quite changed since her stay in Moscow. There’s something strange about her,” said Betsy, having noted that Anna had not yet arrived. “Though not as strange, one cannot help observing, as her husband’s face!” Darling Girl emitted a sly, appreciative giggle.
“The great change is that she brought back with her the shadow of Alexei Vronsky,” said the ambassador’s wife.
“Well, what of it? There’s a fable of Grimm’s about a man without a shadow, a man who’s lost his shadow. And that’s his punishment for something. I never could understand how it was a punishment. But a woman must dislike being without a shadow.”
“Yes, but women with a shadow usually come to a bad end,” said Anna’s friend.
“Bad luck to your tongue!” said Princess Myakaya suddenly. “Madame Karenina’s a splendid woman. I don’t know much of her husband, but I like her very much.”
“There is something extremely odd about her husband,” said the ambassador’s wife, lowering her voice to a confidential tone. “You know, he possesses no Class III robot.”
“Well, many members of the Higher Branches have begun to eschew them.”
“And you do not find that strange?”
“Princess Betsy! Is that a decom?” said a strong voice from the doorway.
“Ah, here you are at last!” Betsy said, turning with a smile to Vronsky, as he came in, removing his coat to reveal his powerful legs, accentuated by the outline of the whip along his thigh. “And in answer to your question, yes, Marionetta here is indeed a decommissioned Class III-and I have a plan for her that I think shall offer considerable amusement.”
CHAPTER 3
BETSY INTENDED TO PLACE the unfortunate Marionetta in the center of a pastime called the One-or-the-Other Game, which was designed to measure a robot’s relative fidelity to the Iron Laws. That is, it would test the relative strength of their obedience to one law (“robots shall obey humans”,) weighed against another (“robots shall not allow themselves to be damaged”).
“A game?” vocalized Marionetta with pitiful eagerness. “How delightful!”
Just then steps were heard at the door, and Princess Betsy, knowing it was Madame Karenina, glanced at Vronsky. He was looking toward the door, and his face wore a strange new expression. Joyfully, intently, and at the same time timidly, he gazed at the approaching figure, and slowly he rose to his feet. Anna walked into the drawing room. Holding herself extremely erect, as always, looking straight before her, and moving with her swift, resolute, and light step, Android Karenina a pace or two behind her and casting her in a fetching crimson, she crossed the short space to her hostess, shook hands with her, smiled, and with the same smile looked around at Vronsky. Vronsky bowed low and pushed a chair up for her.
Marionetta stood with an old-fashioned mask of black crepe drawn down over her eyebank, a sickly smile of anticipation plastered across her faceplate. But for the moment, however, the eyes of all humans present were focused upon Alexei Kirillovich and Anna Karenina.
Anna acknowledged him only by a slight nod, flushed a little, and frowned. But immediately, while rapidly greeting her acquaintances, and shaking the hands proffered to her, she addressed Princess Betsy:
“I have been at Countess Lidia’s, and meant to have come here earlier, but I stayed on.”
“I think you shall be glad you tore yourself away, when we begin our little game,” Princess Betsy responded with a wicked smile.
“I do so love games!” said Marionetta, from behind her mask.
Betsy raised her eyebrows at the crowd with wry amusement and began the first of the tests, which she herself, as hostess, would administer. A chalice, containing superheated humectant, the powerful lubricant used to treat groznium gears, was brought to Betsy on a gleaming tray by one of the II/Footman/74s. Betsy gripped the tray carefully and then ordered Marionetta to plunge her hand downward, into the chalice.