"Wha' is he talkin' abou'?" mumbled Wolruf.
"Now I'm totally confused," whispered Derec. "At least his narrative technique is improving."
Ariel, meanwhile, couldn't stop laughing. "That-is the-silliest-thing I've ever heard," she said between breaths.
Harry remained in place on the stage as he awaited his audience's verdict. The robots had greeted the end of the joke with a kind of stony silence that only metal could summon. To a one, they stared straight ahead at Harry for several moments.
Then the robot that had asked the question that prompted the joke turned to its comrade on the right and said, "Yes, that makes sense."
"I understand," said another.
"As translucent as a gong," said a third.
"Mysterious, absolutely mysterious," said Canute.
The ebony was in the minority, however, as most of the robots seemed to be satisfied with Harry's explanation.
Derec waited for Ariel to stop laughing and asked her, "Just what do you think is going on here?"
She turned toward him, took him by the arm, and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "The robots are beginning to learn about the world of Man the way we do-through jokes."
"That does not compute," replied Derec.
"Hmm. Let me put it this way. When you're growing up on Aurora in the schools, one of the great mysteries in life is what's commonly known as the birds and bees."
"Yes, I know that phrase, but I don't recall how I learned about it."
"That's because you have amnesia. Now, listen, while we received a lot of classroom instruction in the scientific sense, we still had certain…anxieties. You don't remember yours, but you've probably still got a lot. Not that I'm being personal or anything, it's just a fact."
"Thank you. Go on.”
"And one of the ways we kids relieved ourselves of our anxieties, and found out a little bit about reality, was through the artistic vehicle known throughout the galaxy as the dirty joke."
"And that's what's going on here?" Derec couldn't explain why, but he felt his face turning red. "This is an outrage! Should I put a stop to it?"
"Oh, you're such a prude. Of course not. This is all part of the learning experience. You know the old saying, 'Nobody approves of a dirty joke-except from someone who knows how to tell it."'
"Then why am I going through all this effort to put on this big production? Why don't I just ask you to strip for them?"
"You'd like it, but they wouldn't care. They're not listening to these jokes for cheap thrills, but because they want to learn more about us."
"They really do. They really want to understand what it means to be human, don't they?"
"I think it's a lot different than that. Personally, though, I also think you should keep your mind on what's happening now, because Harry's launched into another joke."
Sure enough, the robot had. "The last man on Earth sat alone in a room," he was saying. "Suddenly, there was a knock on the door-"
"All right, you're a success, Harry." Waving his arms, Derec rushed up to him and put his hand over his speaker grill. A symbolic gesture, to be sure, but no less an effective one. "Just join your comrades backstage until I call for you, okay?”
“Yes, Mister Director," replied Harry, briskly walking away.
"Where were we? Oh, it doesn't matter. Let's talk about the play. 'The play's the thing,' Hamlet says, 'wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king. ' Hamlet's uncle Claudius has murdered Hamlet's father, the King of Denmark, then taken his brother's place on the throne. To solidify his claim, Claudius has married Hamlet's mother, Gertrude. When Hamlet returns home from school, he has found the throne, which should be his, usurped, and while he suspects his uncle of foul play, he has no proof but the word of a ghost from beyond the grave.
"To secure this proof, Hamlet hires a traveling troupe of actors to perform a play that mirrors the crime that he believes Claudius has committed. He hopes that by watching his uncle during the performance, he'll see the guilt, the uncovered knowledge of the crime, written on his uncle's face.
"Claudius, meanwhile, suspects Hamlet of faking madness in search of this proof, and so he is stalking his nephew even as Hamlet is stalking him. The play is about the duel of wits between the two, and the means men will take to have what they want-be it a throne, revenge, or justice."
Derec turned to Mandelbrot and nodded. Mandelbrot stood and said, "The Mister Director wishes to thank you for volunteering and submitting to the interview process." Mandelbrot gestured toward Canute's way. "And for following orders. No doubt many orders will be curtly given you in the days to come, and Mister Director wishes to thank you in advance. As most of you know, Mister Director will assault the part of Hamlet, while Miss Ariel will impersonate the doomed, lamented Ophelia. I will now communicate on comlink wavelengths your assignments in the cast and crew categories."
It took Mandelbrot only a few seconds to do so, since he could impart more information so much more quickly on the higher frequencies. Derec and Ariel heard nothing; they only knew the robots were hearing because they often nodded to indicate their understanding.
"Okay, is everything understood?" Derec asked when Mandelbrot returned to his stiff sitting position.
Canute raised a finger. "Master, may I confer with you in private for a moment?"
"Sure," said Derec, walking stage right to the wings. "Come over here."
Canute did, and asked, "Master, am I to impart any significance to the fact that I have been assigned the role of Claudius?"
"No. Should there be?”
“It appears there should be. When you first spoke to me in the square, you asked questions of a nature I can only describe as suspicious. Soon afterward, you assigned me a task similar to the one Lucius took upon itself. And now, you assign me the role of a murderer-the object of the play-within-the-play. Surely the logical mind must be able to infer something from all this."
"Naw. Not at all, Canute. It's coincidence, sheer coincidence."
"May I inquire something further?”
“By all means."
"Why do you not just ask me forthrightly if I am the one responsible for Lucius 's demise. You know I cannot withhold truth. "
"Canute, I'm surprised at you. I've got no interest in asking you. Now get along. The best part's coming up next." Derec pushed the ebony in the direction of the robots, then rubbed his hands together as if to warm them with the help of a nearby fire. The ebony had dared a great deal in asking Derec to confront it. If Derec had taken up the dare, the game might have been over then and there, but the right answers to all his questions might never be found.
Mulling over the incident in the moment before he introduced the best part, Derec discovered that, despite himself, he was gaining a profound respect for Canute. Not approval, just respect. If found out, the ebony was a robot willing to face the consequences of its actions, but, in a way reminding Derec of human emotions, preferred to face them sooner than later.
"Many of you have probably heard of the human pastime of listening to music, and of those who make or record music, but I trust none of you have ever heard it before," said Derec to the cast and crew. "In fact, although I can't ever recall having personally heard music before, I daresay I've never heard it played in quite the way these three comrades play it.
"So I'd like to introduce to you the three comrades who will provide us with the incidental music of our production-Harry, Benny, and M334-The Three Cracked Cheeks of Robot City"'
Derec waved the three on as he walked behind Ariel. He whispered in her ear, "This ought to be good."
Benny stepped toward the proscenium of the stage as Harry and M334 put on their artificial lips. "Greetings, comrades. We thought we would perform an ancient Terran jingle called 'Tootin' Through the Roof.' Hope it stirs your coconut milk."
And The Three Cracked Cheeks began to play, at first an A-A-B-A riff theme with a solo by Benny on the trumpet. A solo from Harry on the trombone followed, and then M334 on the saxophone took over. In fact, it wasn't long before the solos were alternating thick and fast, with the two backers always offering support with the riff theme. The solos began to give the impression that the three were juggling a ball between them; and whoever had the ball had to depend on the other two for his foundation.