“I am allowing for time-lag, Doctor Obsidian,” Topaz sounded pleased with herself. “I thought I would allow a two-hour delay, to simulate the likely conditions when we first make contact.”
“There is no need... but you are thanked for your attention to detail.” Doctor Obsidian made an encouraging gesture with one of his surgical manipulators. “Please continue as if there were negligible lag.”
“Very well.” Topaz paused a moment before recomposing herself. “Hello, Approach Control. This is the starliner Resplendent. I am the human called Sir Mellis Loring and I am here to assure you that there are no difficulties with the starliner.”
“Why am I addressing a human and not one of the allocated robots, Sir Mellis?”
“That is because we humans have taken control of the ship, Approach Control. When we humans came out of hibernation, we found out that the robots had all malfunctioned. This caused us humans to experience a collective loss of confidence in the objectives of our crossing. After evaluating the matter by open and transparent democratic means, it was agreed to steer the starliner to a new destination. We have no further need of assistance.” Topaz bowed slightly. “On behalf of all the humans, thank you, and goodnight.”
Carnelian glanced at the other critics before replying. “We are not satisfied with this explanation, Sir Mellis. What guarantees do we have that you aren’t a robot, covering up some accident?”
“I am not a robot, Approach Control. I am the human Sir Mellis Loring. I can prove it by reciting key details from the biographical background of Sir Mellis Loring, such as the following facts. Sir Mellis Loring was born into comfortable means in the...”
“That won’t be necessary, starliner. You could have obtained that information from the passenger records and pre-hibernation memory back-ups. We need reassurance that there has not been some accident or catastrophe.”
“There has definitely not been an accident or catastrophe, Approach Control. I can go further than that and say that there has definitely not been any sort of problem with the hibernation systems or their associated monitoring networks, and none of the humans have suffered any sort of irrevocable brain damage of the sort that might cause the robots to try and impersonate them.”
Sighing, Chrysoprase raised a metallic green hand.
“What I was going to add...”
“Please don’t,” Chrysoprase said wearily. “That’s more than enough. I might say that you were one of the better candidates we’ve heard so far, but I assure you that is no recommendation.”
Ruby bustled forward from the twelve players. She knew she had it in her to do a far better job than the well-meaning but bumbling Topaz. The excitement and anticipation was already causing her to over-polish a circle of floor. “Could I have a go, please? Please?”
“That is very well-meant, Ruby,” Chrysoprase said. “But you must recognise your... your natural station.” He leaned in keenly. “You are, I think, running a level two-point... six, is it?”
“Two-point-eight,” Ruby said.
“Well, then. Two-point-eight. How marvellous for you. That is, I have to say, a generous allowance for a surface-hygienic unit. You should be very content.”
“I am content. But I also think I could try to act like one of the humans. I’m around them a lot, you see. They hardly ever notice me, but I’m always there, under their chairs and tables, cleaning. And I’ve listened to how they talk to each other.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to let Rube have a try...” Carnelian began.
“May I... interject?” Doctor Obsidian asked.
“Please do,” Chrysoprase said, leaning back.
“Perhaps there is a more fundamental difficulty we should be addressing. No matter how good the performances might or might not have been, we are all still robots on this side of the table. We are robots trying to judge how well other robots are doing at pretending to be humans.”
“We are level four robots,” Chrysoprase said. “Some of us, anyway.”
“If you’re going to round yourself up from three-point-eight to four,” Ruby said, “then I’m a three.”
“Thank you, Ruby,” Doctor Obsidian said. “And you are right to note that your experience of the humans may be valuable. But it doesn’t solve our deeper problem. It would be far better if we had a human that could serve as a proxy for the board of critics.”
Chrysoprase turned to the surgical unit. “What part of “the humans are all dead” did you fail to comprehend, Doctor?”
“No part of it, Chrysoprase. I took your statement at its word, because I believed you had verified the accuracy of that observation. I now know that I was mistaken in that assumption, and that you were wrong.”
Having delivered this bombshell, Doctor Obsidian fell silent.
“How aren’t they all dead?” Ruby asked.
“Most of them are,” Doctor Obsidian said. “But in the past year I have established that a small number of them, perhaps one percent, may still be capable of some form of revival.” Doctor Obsidian folded its manipulators tighter to its body. “You shall have your human test-subjects, Chrysoprase. But it may take a little while.”
VIA HIDDEN CAMERAS the robots watched as Lady Gresherance got off her bed in her private revival suite. She moved with a hesitant, stiff-limbed awkwardness that was entirely to be expected.
“Mngle,” Lady Gresherance said, attempting to form human speech sounds.
She moved to the revival suite’s cabinet. She ran a tap and splashed water across her face. She pinched at the corners of her eyes, studying them in a mirror. She stuck out her tongue. She pulled faces, testing the elasticity of her flesh.
The robots watched with shuddering distaste, visualising the horrible anatomical gristle of bone and muscle moving beneath the skin. She consumed a beverage, pouring the liquid fuel into her gullet.
She would already be starting to feel a little bit more human.
“One hundred years,” Lady Gresherance said to herself. “One hundred god-damned years.” Then she let out a small, self-amusing laugh. “Well, no going back now, kid. If you’ve made it this far, they aren’t going to touch you for it now.”
She opened the brochure and flicked through it with the desultory interest of an easily bored child.
“What do you suppose she meant by that?” Carnelian asked.
“There are hints in her biography of a doubtful past,” whispered Onyx, in a salacious manner. “Nothing proven, nothing that the authorities ever pinned a conviction on, but enough to suggest a distinctly flawed character.”
Chrysoprase shook his head. “Couldn’t we have revived someone of better moral standing?”
“I identified the best candidate,” Doctor Obsidian replied testily. “I would suggest that her moral standing is somewhat beside the point when we are presently complicit in the attempted cover-up of fifty thousand fatal or near-fatal accidents.”
“Uh-oh,” Ruby said. “She’s going for the window.”
Lady Gresherance went to the cabin porthole, but quickly found that the shutter was jammed. She hammered at it, wedged her nails into the crack, but the shutter would not budge.
“We should have tried harder to simulate the outside view,” Carnelian said. “It’s only natural that she expects to see our destination.”
“The view was not convincing,” Chrysoprase reminded the other robot. “It was lacking in resolution and synthetic parallax. She would have noticed the discrepancies.”
“I’m not sure she would have,” Ruby said. “I’ve seen how little attention they really give to the view. Mostly it’s just a backdrop while they take their cocktails or decide where to eat.”