“You speak your destination into the microphone,” Rec said.
“The underground,” Derec said, then shrugged at Rec. Within seconds, the car lurched forward and moved speedily away from the digs.
They traveled quickly, moving through an entire section full of nothing but robot production facilities that were running full tilt, furiously trying to keep up with the record-setting building pace. As the number of buildings increased, so, too, did the number of robots to service those buildings and the people who didn’t live in them. They passed vehicle after vehicle jammed full of new, functionally designed robots who stared all around, seeing their world for the first time.
They also passed other small forests and what seemed to be large sections of hydroponic greenhouses, for when large-scale food production became a reality. Then they whizzed past a large, open area that seemed to serve no function.
“What’s that?” Derec asked.
“Nothing,” Rec answered.
“I don’t mean now,” Derec said. “What’s it going to be?”
“I do not often deal in potential,” the robot replied, several red lights on his dome blinking madly, “but I recall Supervisor Euler once referring to this place as a future spaceport.”
Derec was a bit taken aback. Robot City was absolutely unable to deal with incoming or outgoing ships in any form. It led him down another avenue.
“If the spaceport hasn’t been constructed yet,” he said, “where do you keep your hyperwave transmitters?”
He asked the question casually, knowing full well that Rec would undoubtedly tell him the information was classified; but he was totally unprepared for the answer he received.
“I do not know what a hyperwave transmitter is,” the robot replied.
“A device designed for communication over long distances in space,” Derec said. “Perhaps you call it something else.”
“I have witnessed nothing designed to communicate beyond our atmosphere,” Rec answered.
“You don’t send and receive information from off-planet?”
“I know of no such instance,” Rec replied. “We are self-contained here.”
The tram jerked to a stop, jerking Derec’s thoughts along with it. Somehow, it had never occurred to him that they really were trapped on this planet. The Key and its proper use suddenly became of paramount importance to him.
“We have arrived, Friend Derec,” Rec said.
“So we have,” Derec replied, getting slowly out of the car. What was going on here? Who created this place? And why? It was a pristine civilization removed from contact with anything beyond itself, yet its Spacer roots were obvious. Could David, the dead man, have been the creator?
He walked past the lines of robots carrying their damaged equipment, past the huge extruder and its never-ending ribbon of city, and stood at the entrance to the underground. He turned to see Rec standing beside him.
“Find Avernus,” he said. “Tell him I want to speak with him. I don’t want to break protocol by going somewhere off-limits to humans.”
“Yes, Friend Derec,” the robot answered and moved aside to commune with its net of radio communications.
Derec sat on the ground beside the doorway and watched the robots walking back and forth past him. He was beginning to feel like a useless appendage with nothing to do. He felt guilty even ordering the robots around; they had more important things to do.
He glanced at his watch. It was two in the afternoon, and soon they’d be approaching another night of rain, another useless night of speculation as the water level rose higher and higher. “We will have failed,” Euler had said, and in that sentence the robot had spoken volumes. Like Derec, the supervisor knew that Robot City was a test, a test designed for all of then. If Euler and the others were unable to solve the problem of the rain, they would have failed in their attempt to build a workable world. He also knew that the salvation of this world would take a creative form of thought that most people felt robots incapable of. Perhaps that’s where Derec fit in. Synnoetics, they had called it, the whole greater than the sum of the parts. For that to take place, Derec would have to begin by convincing the robots they had to confide in him despite their security measures.
“I’m extremely busy, Friend Derec,” the voice said loudly. “What do you want of me?”
Derec looked up to see Avernus’s massive form bending to fit in the door space.
“We need to speak of saving this place,” Derec said. “We need to approach one another as equals, and not adversaries.”
“You may have done murder, Derec,” Avernus said. “I am not the equal of that.”
“Neither is Euler,” Derec replied, “but his inattention caused a robot to die today.”
“You were also present.”
Derec looked at the ground. “Y-yes,” he said. “I had no right to bring that up.”
“Tell me what you want of me.”
“Answers,” Derec said. “Understanding. I want to help with the city… the rains. I want someone to know and appreciate that.”
The robot looked at him for a long moment, then motioned him inside. They walked down the stairs together and into the holding area, Rec following behind at a respectable distance. Avernus then took him aside, away from the activity, and made a seat for him by piling up a number of broken machines of various kinds.
Derec climbed atop the junk pile and sat, Avernus standing nearby. “We are in an emergency situation, and my programming limits my communication with you.”
“I understand that,” Derec replied. “I also know that many situations require judgment calls that you must sift through your logic circuits. I ask only that you think synnoetically.”
“If you ask that of me,” the robot said, “I must tell you something. The concept of death holds more weight with me than with the others. My logic circuits are different because of my work.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The robot’s stock-in-trade is efficiency,” Avernus answered, “and in jobs requiring labor, cost efficiency. But in the mines cost efficiency isn’t necessarily cost efficient.”
“Now I’m really confused.”
“The most cost-effective way to approach mine work may be the most dangerous way to approach it, but the most dangerous way to approach it may result in the loss of a great many workers because of the nature of the mines. So, the most effective way to work the mines may not be the most cost-efficient in the long run. Consequently, I am programmed to have a respect for life-even robotic life-that far and away exceeds what one could consider normal. The lives of my workers are of prime importance to me beyond any concept of efficiency.”
“What has that got to do with me?” Derec asked.
“If you have killed, Derec, you will be anathema to me. The fact that you are accused and could be capable of such an action is almost more than I can bear. I voted against your freedom when we met on this issue.”
“I swear to you that I am innocent,” Derec said.
“Humans lie,” the robot answered. “Now, do you still wish me to be the one to ‘appreciate’ your position?”
“Yes,” Derec answered firmly. “I ask only that I be given the opportunity to show you that I have the best interests of Robot City at heart. I am innocent, and the truth will free me.”
“Well said. What do you want to know.”
“You are the first supervisor,” Derec said. “What are your first recollections?”
“I was awakened by a utility robot we call 1-1,” Avernus said, his red photocells fixed on Derec. “1-1 had already awakened fifty other utility machines. I awakened with a full knowledge of who and what I was: a semi-autonomous robot whose function was to supervise the mines for city building, and to supervise the building of other supervisors to fulfill various tasks.”
“Were you programmed to serve humans?”
“No,” Avernus said quickly. “We were programmed with human information, both within us and within the core unit, which was also operational when I was awakened. Our decision to service was one we arrived at independently.”