“So tell me this. You don’t know where you live. You don’t do much of anything. You don’t knowhow to do anything. So:What in the Nine Circles of Hell are you good for?” She looked up from the man to the entire audience. “What are wegood for? What do we do?What are humans for?
“Look around you. Consider your society. Look at the place of humans in it. We are drones, little else. There is scarcely an aspect of our lives that has not been entrusted to the care of the robots. In entrusting our tasks to them, we surrender our fate to them.
“So what are humans for?That is the question, the real question it all comes down to in the end. And I would submit that our current use of robots has given us a terrifying answer, one that will doom us if we do not act.
“Because right here, right now, we must face the truth, my friends. And the true answer to that question is: not much.”
Fredda took a deep breath, collected her notes, and stepped back from the podium. “Forgive me if I end this lecture on that grim note, but I think it is something we all need to face. In this lecture I have stated the problem I wished to address. In my next lecture, I will offer up my thoughts on the Three Laws of Robotics, and on a solution to the problems we face. I believe I am safe in saying it should be of interest to you all.”
And with that, the recording faded away, and Alvar Kresh was left alone with his own thoughts. She couldn’t be right. She couldn’t.
All right, then. Assume she was wrong. Then whatwere humans good for?
“Well, Donald, what did you think?” Alvar asked.
“I must confess I found it to be a most disturbing presentation.”
“How so?”
“Well, sir, it makes the clear implication that robots are bad for humans.”
Kresh snorted derisively. “Old, old arguments, all of them. There isn’t a one that I haven’t heard before. She makes it sound like the entire population of Hades, of all Inferno, is made up of indolent incompetents. Well,I for one still know how to find my own way home.”
“That is so, sir, but I fear that you might be in a minority.”
“What? Oh, come on. She made it sound as if everyone were utterly incompetent. I don’t knowanyone that helpless.”
“Sir, if I may observe, most of your acquaintances are fellow law enforcement officers, or workers in fields that you as Sheriff often come into contact with.”
“What’s your point?”
“Police work is one of the very few fields of endeavor in which robots can be of only marginal help. A good police officer must be capable of independent thought and action, be willing to cooperate in a group, be ready to deal with all kinds of people, and be capable of workingwithout robots. Your deputies must be rather determined, self-confident individuals, willing to endure a certain amount of physical danger-perhaps even relishing thestimulus of danger. I would suggest that police officers would make for a rather skewed sample of the population. Think for a moment, not of your officers, but of the people they encounter. The people that end up as victims in the police reports. I know that you do not hold those people in the highest regard. How competent and capable are they? How dependent ontheir robots are they?”
Alvar Kresh opened his mouth as if to protest, but then stopped, frowned, and thought. “I see your point. Now you’ve disturbedme, Donald.”
“My apologies, sir. I meant no-”
“Relax, Donald. You ‘re sophisticated enough to know you’ve done no harm. You got me to thinking, that’s all.” He nodded at the televisor. “ As ifshe hadn’t done that already.”
“Yes, sir, quite so. But I would suggest, sir, that it is time for bed. “
“It certainly is. Can’t be tired for the Governor, can I?” Alvar stood and yawned. “ And what the hell couldhe want that can’t wait until later in the day?”
Alvar Kresh walked wearily back to his bedroom, very much dreading the morning. Whatever the Governor wanted, it was unlikely to be good news.
10
SIMCOR Beddle was up betimes, thoughtfully reviewing the results of the Ironhead action against Settlertown. The results were not good. Sheriff Kresh’s deputies were simply getting too good at their jobs. Too many arrests, too little damage, and worst of all, the publicity was bad. It made the Ironheads look inept at best.
All right, then, it was time to come up with another tactic. Some way to tangle with the damned Settlers where Kresh’s people could not interfere so much.
Wait a moment. He had the very thing. Leving’s next lecture. If his information was even remotely reliable, the place would be crawling with Settlers. Yes, yes. An altercation there would do nicely.
But what about publicity? Not much point in staging a riot if no one saw it. Beddle leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. Her first lecture had not drawn much of a crowd, though it should have, given the seditious material she had presented. Maybe that was the key. Plant a few belated reports here and there, accurate and otherwise, about what she had said then. Perhaps he could arrange for a few tame sources to drop a few inflammatory and extremely misleading speculations as to what the devil she was doing in the hospital.
Yes, yes. That was it. Properly brought along, reports on that first lecture should get the hall filled for the second, and live televisor coverage to boot. Disruptthose goings-on and no one could help but pay attention.
Simcor Beddle gestured for his secretary robot to come forward, and began dictating, setting down the details.
It ought to work quite nicely.
ALVAR Kresh strode into the Governor’s office, feeling far more alert and awake than he had any right to feel, as if his body were getting used to the idea of not sleeping properly.
The Governor rose from behind his desk and crossed half the length of the huge office, offering his hand to Alvar as he came closer. Grieg looked fresh, well rested, alert. He was dressed in a charcoal-grey suit of rather conservative cut, as if he were trying to appear as old as possible. Such was no doubt the case, given Grieg’s almost scandalously youthful election to the governorship.
Grieg’s office was as opulent as Alvar had remembered-but there was something missing since his last visit, something no longer there. What was it?
“Thank you for coming so early, Sheriff,” Governor Grieg said as he took Alvar’s hand.
As if the summons here had been an invitation and not an order,Alvar thought. But the courteous words were themselves significant. The Governor did not often feel the need to be polite to Alvar Kresh.
Alvar shook the Governor’s hand and looked him in the eye. There was no doubt about it. The man wanted something from him-no,needed something.
“It’s a pleasure to be here,” Alvar lied smoothly.
“I doubt that to be the case,” Grieg said with a politician’s overly frank smile, a smile born of too many years making promises. “But I assure you that it was necessary. Please, have a seat, Sheriff. Tell me, how is the investigation of the attack on Fredda Leving going?”
Nothing like getting right to the point,Kresh thought grimly. “It’s early times, yet. We’ve collected a lot of information, and a lot of it seems rather contradictory. But that’s almost to be expected at this stage. There is one thing, though, sir, that you could do to make work go a bit more smoothly.”
“And what might that be?”
“Call off Tonya Welton. I must admit I don’t know the political side of the situation, but I assure you that inserting her into the case has made more work for me. I can’t quite see why you wanted to do it.”