Susan was still staring at the City Guard robot. She looked totally stunned. When she finally spoke her voice sounded strange.
‘Thank you, Saddleworth,’ she said. ‘You’ve had your turn. Maoco O.’
The crowd looked up towards Maoco O. He was a tall robot, his body so beautifully engineered it held the eye, begging to be looked at. So smooth, so seamless. The way the metal curved in at his hips, flared at his shoulders, the dull glow with which it shone, even in the blazing sun. When he spoke, his voice was so clear, so finely modulated.
‘Citizens,’ he said. ‘I bow before Kobuk.’ At this he turned and bent in an ostentatious fashion towards the ex-City Guard who still stood on the parliament floor. He straightened up and addressed the crowd once more. ‘The City Guard has served us well in the past, and I pledge to continue that tradition. Turing City has stood here many years, during which our mines have produced the best gold and nickel. With these metals we have wound the finest minds. Here, at least, all robots may stand equal. I say to you, citizens, the City Guard will stand strong.’
The assembled robots stamped their feet again in applause. Karel paid little heed to the robot’s words. He was still gazing at Susan, rapt in concentration as she stared at Maoco O. What was the matter with her? The Speaker was trying to gain her attention, trying to find out who would be the next to contribute to the debate. Finally she noticed him; she seemed to take a moment to regain her balance and consult with her team. At last she spoke.
‘Leavore,’ she said.
And the crowd began to murmur again. Leavore? That was an Artemisian name!
Karel saw ripples in the silver pool of light reflected by the assembled robots. Heads were turning to the stranger in their midst. And there she stood: an Artemisian war robot. A Scout dressed in a silver skin of katana metal, the blades at her hands and feet barely sheathed. She reminded Karel of the robot he had seen so recently at the Immigration Centre. Maybe it was even the same one, now released and given citizenship. She would have the right to attend parliament, so why should she not be here? For a moment his thoughts travelled back to Banjo Macrodocious, the strange robot that had denied its own intelligence. What had happened to him?
Leavore spoke. ‘I wish to question Maoco O. I am a new citizen of Turing City. I thought we were all equal here. And yet Maoco O claims that your minds are wound of better metal. Is this true? Are we not all equal?’
There was silence. The point had struck home.
‘Dad?’ said Axel, but Karel was trying to think. He had never thought of that before. Turing City minds were wound with equality in them, and yet the war robot had a point. They did believe their minds were better than others’.
‘Don’t listen to her. It’s an Artemisian trick!’
‘She’s a spy!’
‘Even if she’s not, she’s a traitor to her own state!’
The Speaker raised his hands. ‘The parliament will come to order!’
In the ensuing confusion, and much to his own surprise, Karel found he had raised his own hand. As the noise died away he saw Susan, down below, staring at him. He held his hand higher. Susan seemed to consult with her team. Then she spoke.
‘Karel,’ she called out.
This brought silence to the crowd. Now all those many heads turned towards Karel. So many eyes, yellow and green and red, their glow dimmed by the bright sunlight.
‘You know me,’ said Karel, ‘and that I’m an immigration officer. If this woman has been deemed fit to be a citizen, then we should listen to her. We may disagree with what she says, but we cannot dismiss it. I will try to answer her question for her. Leavore, what makes us better isn’t our minds or our gold or our nickel. It’s our philosophy, our…’
The Speaker interrupted. ‘I am sorry, Karel, but this is not pertinent to the debate. Do you have anything to add that is relevant to the motion?’
Karel felt his electromuscles tense in anger. Slowly, he allowed them to discharge. Across the stone bowl of parliament, he saw Leavore, the war robot, gazing back at him with something like contempt.
‘Dad, what’s going on?’
Karel looked again at Axel, and the last of his anger ebbed. He looked back into the arena.
‘Yes,’ he called, ‘I do have something to say. Noatak, assuming that Artemis does not attack soon, what will you be advising us in three years’ time? Will you still counsel patience?’
‘If it is the correct thing to do.’ Noatak chuckled. ‘Karel, your mind seems already made up. I wonder when that happened?’
There was a ripple of laughter around the terraces, and Karel felt himself gripped with cold fury.
‘Why are they laughing, Dad? Are they laughing at you?’
‘It’s okay, Axel.’ Karel could barely speak. His electromuscles were sparking within him, overloaded with angry current. The Speaker was shouting for order again.
‘Noatak will withdraw that remark!’
‘Of course I withdraw,’ said Noatak, bowing in Karel’s direction, and Karel felt himself seething. Axel still didn’t quite understand. But he got the gist of it.
‘Dad, are you okay?’
Karel said nothing.
Susan spent the remainder of the debate gazing up at her husband. She could feel his anger, even from here.
It was hot down on the parliament floor, standing on sun-heated stone, hearing the constant plink of hot metal. Her team worked well, but Susan felt removed from them. She was ready to weave another child, her mind sparking with ideas, and yet she was frightened of the future. Her husband was a mystery to her, at least part of him was, and, somewhere behind her, she could feel the gaze of the mysterious Maoco O focused on her back. What did he want with her?
Time passed as the sun descended, and longer shadows cut across the far wall of the parliament bowl. The debate was coming to an end, and Susan was surprised at the turnaround. At the beginning, sixty-one per cent of robots had been all for declaring war immediately, but now she guessed that the motion would be opposed. Noatak had spoken well. Surprisingly well. She had come across as sympathetic, understanding, brilliantly undermining Kobuk’s position as an ex-soldier, portraying him as behind the times and unnecessarily cautious. Her offer to have a permanent cohort of no less than one-fifth of the City Guard constantly on duty at the railway station, in case of a surprise attack, had both defused many of Kobuk’s arguments and made it obvious to all that she was not totally ignoring a possible threat. Of course, she had been helped out by a number of robots in the crowd who had supported her, Susan realized. Robots who did not usually attend parliament. Noatak had been lucky today.
Kobuk and Noatak began their summing-up speeches, and suddenly Susan felt very tired, her mind only half on the job. She looked up again and saw that Karel had gone, she didn’t know when. Axel would have been tired too, she guessed, so he must have taken him home. That was probably just as well. Karel would not have reacted well to a vote opposing the motion. He could get so angry sometimes…
And now the summing-up had finished, and the Speaker was calling for the vote. Myriad arms were raised, and Susan and her team scanned the crowd and conferred.
They were all agreed. Susan was surprised at how shaken she was by the final vote.
She relayed it to the Speaker, who announced it as the sun set over the bowl.
‘Citizens, the motion for combat is opposed.’
Grey shadow filled the bowl. Susan felt empty.
‘Citizens, it is time to return to our homes. Turing City will remain open. We will welcome Artemis!’
Susan’s gyroscopes lurched. She looked up, and there was Maoco O, staring down at her. There was something so desolate about the City Guard’s stare. And then he recovered himself, turned away and slid from the arena.