‘They never found Nettie, did they?’ she said.
‘Your friend? No. Perhaps she was on the ship that escaped.’
‘I hope so. Do you think they will bring her back?’
‘I don’t know. You said they wanted our minds.’
‘Something about the power there. The fact that we didn’t need fuel. The humans were very excited by that.’
Something stirred within her. The faintest edge of curiosity. Maybe Karel was right, that this world was stranger than she thought.
‘What was that story, the one that Melt told you?’
‘The Story of Eric and the Mountain.’
‘He’s a strange robot, Melt. Are you sure he can be trusted?’
‘I think so. There is a deep sense of honour within him, I know that.’
‘Where does he come from?’
‘He won’t say. I think he’s deeply ashamed of his past, that’s one of the things that convinces me he is honourable, funnily enough. He’s met the humans before, though. He knew about the Faraday Cage. He told the Artemisians; he got them to send the message to all their troops.’
‘I heard.’
Karel looked up at the stars, tried to enjoy the pleasurable feeling of Susan pulling at his wire. But all the time his mind wandered back to Melt, the way he had almost pleaded to be allowed to guard Susan, as he had done Karel on his journey south. It seemed to be important to the big robot. A way of redeeming himself.
‘If anything happens to me, you will be safe with Melt.’
‘I don’t want anything to happen to you.’ Susan twisted his wire in an odd loop. ‘Almost done,’ she said. ‘There is a little wire left. Are you ready? Are you sure that you want me to put it in?’
‘I’m sure,’ said Karel. ‘Every robot should know this. From now on, this story will be woven into every robot’s mind.’
‘Then tell me,’ said Susan.
‘Very well,’ said Karel, and he began.
The Story of Eric and the Mountain
‘When the ancient town of Ell was still young, before the tribes of Yukawa were united by the Emperor, before Ban province had learned the secret of animal husbandry, there lived a robot called Eric.’
‘This story is set in Yukawa?’ said Susan. ‘I had never heard of that place until yesterday.’
‘I’m sure that is where Melt comes from. He told this story as if it were woven into his mind. Now listen.
‘Eric was the adopted son of Ben-Ji, the owner of one of Ell’s principle forges. Now, it must be understood that the robots of Yukawa have a different culture to those of Shull, and the robots of Ell are unusual even in Yukawa, and this story happened a long time ago when Ell was a very different place to today. So if you find what happened in Ben-Ji’s forge strange, or even distasteful, then just remember that this is how things were in those days.’
Susan was staring at him.
‘This is our child we are making,’ she reminded him.
‘This is how Melt told me the story,’ explained Karel. He continued, using the same sing-song style in which Melt had related the story to him.
‘Now I must explain that Ben-Ji’s forge was known as a making forge. When a man and a woman wanted to make a child then they would go to his forge and look at the fine metals he had on display there. Pure iron and copper and aluminium and lead. The best steel, graded according to use. Metal available as plates and ingots and wire. Gold leaf so fine, silver wire, even phosphorus and sodium stored under oil. Jars of mercury, sheets of tungsten, and, there in the back, molybdenum and palladium. Even, it was rumoured, the eka metals: eka mercury and eka lead.’
‘Do they really exist?’ wondered Susan, her eyes glowing.
‘I don’t know! Susan, please don’t interrupt!’
‘So a couple would enter the forge, the woman full of thoughts and poetry and ideas, pregnant with the thoughts of the mind she would soon twist, and she would walk with her man as they examined the metals on offer. They would tell Ben-Ji and his wife Khafool what sort of a mind they planned to make, and then Ben-Ji and Khafool would give them advice on the metal to choose and the body they should construct. And any other robots who were in the forge would also pass on advice, and in this way the day would pass, until eventually the man would sit down, and the woman kneel before him, and, guided by the advice of all those present, a new mind would be twisted by the woman from the metal she drew forth from the man. The robots produced by the Ben-Ji forge were strong and wise and prospered in the city of Ell, and so the reputation of the Ben-Ji forge grew.
‘Now, Eric worked in the forge, but he was unhappy in his work. The only thing that gladdened his mind was the sight of Khalah, the daughter of Ben-Ji and Khafool. For Khalah had a good mind, a thing of symmetry and elegance and beauty. She built her body of the finest materials available to the forge. She crafted it well, mixing metals and alloys to form long struts of a pleasing curve, electromuscles of the most cunning weave, and polished aluminium panels that shone under the sun in the daylight and reflected the red glow of the forge through the night.
‘Khalah loved the forge and her family, and she loved Eric as he loved her, yet she was filled with disquiet, for as long as Eric was unhappy, she could never be truly happy herself. So, one cold autumn day as they stood before the forge, a day when the frost was heavy on the metal bosses and brackets of the doors, the ice was frozen in rings around edges of the puddles and troughs, and the sky was blue and misty, on that day she challenged him.
‘“Eric,” she said. “Why are you always so sad? You are a good smith, good enough to impress my father, and there are few robots who can do that. My mother approves our match, and some day we shall have this forge for our own, and we can go on building it in strength and stature. Is that not a good thing?”
‘“It is Khalah, it is indeed. Yet I do not feel that I belong here.”
‘“You were not made here, Eric, it is true. Your mind is different, and you construct your body in a style foreign to those who live here, but there is much to be recommended in you, and, as I have said, no less an authority than my mother has suggested that we are compatible and shall weave strong children together. What do your origins matter?”
‘Eric hammered at the red iron he held over the anvil, hammered his frustration into the metal.
‘“What do they matter, Khalah? I was found at the foot of the High Spires by your father. He brought me back here and cared for me, and the people of this town accepted me as their own. They gave me metal and taught me how to weave it in their fashion. My origins shouldn’t matter. Yet they do. A thought lives on in my mind. Look over there. ..”
‘He pointed to the distant peaks of the High Spires. The mountaintops were sharp in the cold air, rising clear of the misty foothills. Snow gleamed white and crisp; Eric almost felt their chill from here.
‘“Do you see the High Spires. Do you see the group over there in the centre? The Crown, they are called. There is something up there, Khalah, hidden amongst the peaks.”
‘“What is it?”
‘“I don’t know. It is there at the edge of my mind. Sometimes it is a sword, made of the first metal, the first metal to think thoughts. Sometimes it is a body made of katana metal, an indestructible body. Sometimes it is just metal itself. But precious metal. A ball of eka lead perhaps, or the metal that lies beyond that.”
‘“I have heard the stories,” said Khalah. “The stories of the first robots, Alpha and Gamma, how they crossed the High Spires, and left some of their treasures up there for safe keeping, before they stepped into this land.”
‘“Khalah, the stories are true! I know it. I came from the High Spires, the pictures are there in my mind. Now I must return there to find those treasures.”