'There's a legend of the visit, Decker said. 'It must have happened years ago. The Day the Bubbles Came. It has all the markings of an ancient folktale, but the memo probably means that it has some historic basis.
'Why should the robots be so upset about it? The visiting aliens offered no harm; they didn't hang around.
'You must realize, said Decker, 'that the robot never is an adventurer. He always plays the averages. He never takes a chance. He is always cautious. That's the true measure between a robot and a human. Men take chances, plunge ahead, go for broke. A robot never does. It may be a reflection of his inferiority complex. He talks big, acts big at times, but he's never really big. He hunkers down a lot. He jumps at his own shadow. Vatican robots have been fairly successful here; there's not much here to spook them.
Thirty
John, the gardener, went down the many long flights of stone stairs beneath Vatican and finally came to Pope country. He went along a corridor until he reached a small door. From a compartment in his waist, he took out a key and opened the door that led into a tiny room with only one chair in it. The lock snicked when he pushed the door closed behind him. On the wall facing the chair a metallic plate was set into the solid stone.
The gardener sat in the chair. 'Your Holiness, he said. 'John is here to make a report.
The cross-hatched face appeared slowly, deliberately on the plate.
'It is good to see you, John, said His Holiness. 'What brings you here this time?
'I am here, Your Holiness, said John, 'to tell you some of the facts of life. I hope this time that you pay attention to me. I'm not out there playing the fool for nothing, putting on my act as a silly gardener mumbling to his roses. I am doing your work, your personal work that you can't trust to your stupid cardinals. I'm out there spying for you, listening for you, gathering information for you, starting rumors for you. The least you can do, Your Holiness, is listen.
'I always listen, John.
'Not always, John said grumpily.
'I'll listen this time, John.
'There is a rumor, said John. 'No more than a rumor, but a good strong rumor, that the Listener Mary went back to Heaven for the second time and was thrown out.
'I haven't heard that, said the Pope.
'No, of course you haven't. The cardinals wouldn't tell you. They'd pussyfoot around-
'In time, said His Holiness, 'they would have gotten around to telling me.
'In time, yes. After they had stumbled around a lot and talked it over among themselves, viewing it from all angles and trying to figure out how best to break it to you, to tell you so it went down easy.
'They are good and faithful servants. They only do what they do out of their thoughtfulness for me.
'They do what they do, said the gardener, 'to twist your direction and your purpose. When Vatican first was established, Your Holiness, its aim was to seek out a true religion. Unlike the humans of Earth, we had the honesty to admit we were hunting for a better faith than the one we had known on Earth. Do you still, Your Holiness, seek a true religion?
'I believe I do, said the Pope. 'Among other things.
'That's the gist of it — among other things. There have been too many other things. Technological systems. Philosophical trends that have little to do with our primary purpose…
'But philosophy, John, does have much to do with what you call our primary purpose. I take it that you would cancel all else but a mad, frantic search for a faith we felt, at one time, we would find.
'Do you think so no longer, Your Holiness?
'You're asking me if I still believe in the logic and necessity for the search. The answer is that of course I do. But what seemed simple a thousand years ago appears not so simple now. It is not a matter of faith alone, not only the matter finding the right deity, if deity is the term we want, but a matter of untangling the many survival and evolutionary systems that have been developed by the people that our Listeners are discovering. It is only by the study of such systems and the thinking of the beings residing in those patterns, I am now convinced, that we can find the answers that will lead us to what you call a true religion.
'Your Holiness, you mock me!
I would not mock you, John. We have worked too long together for me ever to do that. But I do think that our viewpoints, through the years, have grown very far apart.
'You have changed more than I have, Your Holiness. I am still the simple robot that came out here from Earth. My viewpoint is closer to our original plan than is yours. I helped plan and fabricate you and we tried to build a greatness and a deep wisdom in you, a love of holiness. You are not — you will pardon me for saying this — but you are not that same pontiff that we fabricated.
The Pope made a noise that sounded like a chuckle. 'No, certainly I am not. Would you expect me to be? Did you think that you could cast my pattern and that it would not deviate? That in the light of new fact and new thought, the pattern still would persist as the image of what you and your fellows thought a thousand years ago? You are right; I am no longer pure robot; I have lost much of the humanity that you put into me. I have grown — well, let us say more alien, as the centuries have crept along. I have so much alienness fed into me — some of it, in part, pure garbage — that I have become, in some aspects, alien. This could have been expected even by you, John. It was necessary. I had to develop certain alien faculties to handle all the alien concepts that are dumped into me. I have changed. Certainly I have changed. I am no longer the instrument that you robots made. I am amazed that you are not aware of that. I have a backlog of data that is catalogued and waiting to be fitted into whatever matrix that conceivably could make use of it. I can tell you from sad experience that my trillions of little jigsaw pieces often do not fit, even when they appear to be a perfect fit, but have to be taken out and put back on the shelf until another pattern shows up where one or two, or a dozen, or a hundred of them, might appear to be of value. I don't mind telling you that I am crammed with half-finished puzzles, some of which may need only a few more pieces to make them come together, but others, many others, that may never come together, that will never come to anything at all. That's the trouble with you robots. You want answers and I haven't any answers. As I told you, the universe is not so simple as it once appeared. I am a long-range project and you people are expecting short-range results from me….
'Your Holiness, a thousand years is not short-range.
The Pope made the chuckling noise again. 'In my kind of business, it is. If I last a million years-
'You will last a million years. We will see you do.
'Well, then, said the Pope, 'there is some hope that we will attain your goal.
'My goal. Your Holiness, you speak as if it isn't yours.
'Oh, it's mine, all right. But the other aspects of our research cannot be ignored. There is no way of knowing in what direction any segment of research will lead — many times in unsuspected directions.
'Your Holiness, you have allowed Vatican to become sidetracked, you have encouraged it to go baying off in all these other directions that you speak of. The cardinals are grabbing for power-
'I do not deny, said His Holiness, 'that some of my cardinals have turned out to be a poor lot, but they're not entirely bad. Administratively, some of them are sound. For example, the pilgrim program has been handled rather neatly.