We dropped the wood and lit out for camp, but there was no need to hurry. Our boy wasn’t having any more just then. He made a wide circle to the east of us and raced back into the hills.
We cooked breakfast and ate it and kept our guns handy, because where there was one critter, there were liable to be more. We didn’t see the sense in taking chances.
We talked about our visitor and since we had to call it something, we named it Elmer. For no particular reason, that seemed appropriate.
«Did you see those wheels?» asked Ben, and the two of us agreed that we’d seen them. Ben seemed to be relieved. «I thought I was seeing things,» he explained.
But there could be no doubt about the wheels. All of us had noticed them and there were the tracks to prove it—wheel tracks running plain and clear along the sandy beach.
But we were somewhat puzzled when it came to determining just what Elmer was. The wheels spelled out machine, but there were a lot of other things that didn’t—mannerisms that were distinctly lifelike, such as the momentary hesitation before it decided which one of us to charge, Jimmy or myself, or the vicious lunge at Ben when he lay upon the ground, or the caution it had shown in circling us when it came out of the sea.
But there were, as well, the wheels and the unmistakably metal hide and the dents made by exploding warheads that would have torn the biggest and toughest animal to shreds.
«A bit of both?» suggested Ben. «Basically machine, but with some life in it, too, like the old-maid brain you dreamed up for Lulu?»
Sure, it could be that. It could be almost anything.
«Silicate life?» offered Jimmy.
«That’s not silicate,» Ben declared. «That’s metal. Silicate, any form of it, would have turned to dust under a direct rocket hit. Besides, we know what silicate life is like. One species of it was found years ago out on Thelma V.»
«It isn’t basically life,» I said. «Life wouldn’t evolve wheels. Wheels are bum inventions so far as locomotion is concerned, except where you have special conditions. Life might be involved, but only as Ben says—as a deliberate, engineered combining of machine and life.»
«And that means intelligence,» said Ben.
We sat there around the fire, shaken at the thought of it. In many years of searching, only a handful of intelligent races had been found and the level of intelligence, in general, was not too impressive. Certainly nothing of the order that would be necessary to build something like Elmer.
So far, Man was top dog in the discovered universe. Nothing had been found to match him in the use of brain-power.
And here, by utter accident, we’d been dumped upon a planet where there seemed to be some evidence of an intelligence that would equal Man—if not, indeed, surpass him.
«There’s one thing that has been bothering me,» said Ben. «Why didn’t Lulu check this place before she landed here? She intended to maroon us, that’s why. She meant to dump us here and leave. And yet presumably she’s still bound by the precept that a robot cannot harm a human. And if she followed that law, it would have meant that she was compelled—completely and absolutely compelled—to make certain, before she marooned us, that there was nothing here to harm us.»
«Maybe she slipped a little,» guessed Jimmy.
«Not Lulu,» said Ben. «Not with that Swiss-watch brain of hers.»
«You know what I think?» I said. «I think Lulu has evolved. In her, we have a brand-new kind of robot. They pumped too much humanity into her—»
«She had to have the human viewpoint,» Jimmy pointed out, «or she couldn’t do her job.»
«The point,» I said, «is that when you make a robot as human as Lulu, you no longer have a robot. You have something else. Not quite human, not entirely robot, but something in between. A new kind of a sort of life you can’t be certain of. One you have to watch.»
«I wonder if she’s still sulking,» Ben wondered.
«Of course she is,» I said.
«We ought to go over and kick her in the pants and snap her out of it.»
«Leave her alone,» I ordered sharply. «The only thing is to ignore her. As long as she gets attention, she’ll keep on sulking.»
So we left her alone. It was the only thing we could do.
I took the dishes down to the sea to wash them, but this time I took my gun along. Jimmy went down to the woods to see if he could find a spring.
The half dozen tins of water that Lulu had provided for us wouldn’t last forever and we couldn’t be sure she’d shell out more when those were gone.
She hadn’t forgotten us, though, hadn’t shut us out of her life entirely. She had fixed Elmer’s wagon when he got too gay. I took a lot of comfort out of reflecting that, when the cards were down, she had backed us up. There still were grounds for hope, I told myself, that we could work out some sort of deal with her.
I squatted down by a pool of water in the sand, and as I washed the dishes, I did some thinking about the realignment which would become necessary once all robots were like Lulu. I could envision a Bill of Robotic Rights and special laws for robots and robotic lobbies, and after I’d thought of it for a while, it became mighty complicated.
Back at the camp, Ben had been setting up the tent, and when I came back, I helped him.
«You know,» Ben said, «the more I think about it, the more I believe I was right when I said that the reason Lulu couldn’t leave was because we showed up. It’s only logical that she can’t up and leave when we’re standing right in front of her and reminding her of her responsibility.»
«You getting around to saying that one of us has to stay close by her all the time?» I asked.
«That’s the general idea.»
I didn’t argue with him. There was nothing to argue about, nothing to believe or disbelieve. But we were in no position to be making any bones.
After we had the tent up, Ben said to me, «If you don’t mind, I’ll take a little walk around back in the hills.»
«Watch out for Elmer,» I warned him.
«He won’t bother us. Lulu took the starch out of him.»
He picked up his gun and left.
I puttered around the camp, putting things in order. Everything was peaceful. The beach shone in the sun and the sea was still and beautiful.
There were a few birds flying, but no other sign of life. Lulu kept on sulking.
Jimmy came back. He had found a spring and brought along a pail of water. He started rummaging around in the supplies.
«What you looking for?» I asked.
«Paper and a pencil. Lulu would have thought of them.»
I grunted at the idea, but he was right. Damned if Lulu hadn’t fixed him up with a ream of paper and a box of pencils.
He settled down against a pile of boxes and began to write a poem.
Ben returned shortly after midday. I could see he was excited, but I didn’t push him any.
«Jimmy stumbled on a spring,» I said. «The pail is over there.»
He had a drink, then sat down in the shade of a pile of boxes.
«I found it,» he said triumphantly.
«I didn’t know you were hunting anything.»
He looked up at me and grinned a bit crookedly. «Someone manufactured Elmer.»
«So you went out and found them. Just like walking down a street. Just like—»
He shook his head. «Seems we’re too late. Some several thousand years too late, if not a good deal longer. I found a few ruins and a valley heaped with tumuli that must be ruin mounds. And some caves in a limestone bluff beyond the valley.»
He got up and walked over to the pail and had another drink.
«I couldn’t get too close,» he said. «Elmer is on guard.» He took off his hat and wiped his shirt sleeve across his face. «He’s patrolling up and down, the way a sentry walks a post. You can see the paths he’s worn through all the years of standing guard.»