“Well, Donald has sure as hell given her plenty to think about,” said Kresh.
“And for that I do apologize, Governor,” said a familiar voice behind them. “I hope you will understand that I had no real choice in the matter.”
Alvar Kresh wheeled about and glared down at the small blue robot who had just turned the world upside down. “God damn it, Donald. You had to go and do it, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir, I am afraid I did. First Law left me with no choice. Now that it is over, I thought it best if I came out of hiding and returned to your service at once.”
“Nothing is over,” Kresh said. “Nothing.” He was furious with Donald—and knowing that there was no point in being angry only made him more frustrated. There was nothing more useless than getting angry at a robot for responding to a First Law imperative. One might as well get mad at the sun for shining. And as long as Donald was back he might as well get some work out of him. “Get me a status report on what’s happening in Depot,” he said. “I know it’s got to be bad, but I have to know how bad. And make sure Commander Devray knows why every robot in town has just gone mad.”
“Yes, sir. I should be able to give you a preliminary report in a minute or two. Shifting to hyperwave communications.”
Was it Kresh’s imagination, or was there a tiny note of relief in Donald’s voice? Had he been afraid that Kresh would denounce him, reject him? Perhaps even destroy him? Never mind. There was no time for such things now. He looked around the room full of technicians, and pointed at one at random. “You!” he said. “I need to know if there is any way of controlling the comet ourselves if it comes to that, to do a manual terminal phase if we have to. If Unit Dee brainlocks on us now, and takes Dum with her when she crashes, we’re going to have an uncontrolled comet impact in about sixteen hours.”
The technician opened her mouth, clearly about to raise one objection or another, but Kresh cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Quiet. Don’t tell me it can’t be done, don’t tell me it’s not your department. If you don’t know how to get the answers, find someone who can. Go. Now.”
The technician went.
“Soggdon! Where the hell is Soggdon?” he called out.
“Here, sir!” she cried out as she came rushing up.
The woman looked exhausted, drawn out, at the end of her strength. It occurred to Kresh that they all looked like that. Space knew he felt like that. But never mind. It would all be over soon. One way or the other.
“I need you to find me a way to cut Dee out of the loop and put Unit Dum in complete charge.”
“I can try,” she said, “but don’t count on miracles. If Dee decides to block us, she knows the links between herself and Dum a lot better than we do. And don’t forget they’re both hooked into thousands of sensor linkages and network lines all around the world. They could use practically any of those to create an interlink between themselves. And even if we cut all the physical links, they could still use hyperwave.”
“Could we destroy or disable Dee if we had to?”
A look of pain flashed across Soggdon’s face, but she kept control. “No,” she said. She gestured to the hemisphere that held Dee. “That thing is bomb-proof and blaster-proof, designed to ride out an earthquake or a direct hit from a meteorite. Anything powerful enough to cut into it and get to her would probably destroy the entire control room in the process. And there’s no time to set up anything fancy.”
“Do the best you can,” said Kresh. “Fredda—any change in Dee’s status?”
“Nothing. Whatever it is she’s doing, she’s still doing it.”
“Very well. Keep me posted.”
“Sir,” said Donald, “I am ready with my initial report. Commander Devray is aware of the reasons behind the change in robotic behavior. As best I am able to determine, there are currently five hundred forty-seven current search efforts under way, some of them single robots, some of them linked teams. Correction. Three more searches have just commenced. Approximately one hundred twelve transport vehicles have been commandeered from other uses and set to work as search vehicles. No vehicle transporting humans has been diverted to the searches, but a great number of valuable cargoes have been dumped to allow the vehicles carrying them to search with greater range and speed. Needless to say, virtually all of the search vehicles are heading toward the area south of Depot where the aircar was found—into the area of maximum danger.”
“Hell fire!” Kresh shook his head in wonderment. “I thought it would be bad, but I didn’t think it would be that bad.”
“I’m surprised it isn’t worse,” said Fredda. “Every robot on this planet has been suffering strong First Law stress for over a month now, worrying about the comet. Suddenly they have a very clear focus for all their fears and anxiety. All the worries about hypothetical danger to unspecified humans are suddenly focused down to one real person in very real danger.” Fredda shook her head sadly and looked from Donald to Unit Dee. “What a mess our well-meaning servants have invented for us all. There are times when the Three Laws have a hell of a lot to answer for.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” said Kresh. “But now we have to work with what we’ve got.”
Kresh sat down in front of his console and stared straight ahead at the silent, inscrutable, perfect hemisphere on its pedestal. He would do all he could besides, but deep in his heart of hearts, it was likely nothing would help, unless and until the oracle chose once more to speak. Until then, or until the comet hit, the humans of Inferno, as represented by the technicians of the Terraforming Center, could do nothing more than struggle to find their own way out.
“We’re going to see this through,” he said, to no one in particular. “Somehow.”
They had come too far to give up now.
20
THERE WERE FOUR cells in the rear half of the constable’s offices, and it was perhaps somewhat overstating the case to call them “cells” at all. Holding pens might be closer to the mark, places to keep the town drunks until they sobered up enough to go home. They could keep a human in, but that was about all that could be said of them. Thin steel bars formed the enclosures, one set into each corner of the room, so that none of them shared any common walls. A cot, a blanket, a pillow, and a crude toilet in each cell were the only amenities.
Only one of the cells was empty at the moment. Jadelo Gildern was in one cell, pacing furiously back and forth. Norlan Fiyle was lounging on the cot in his cell, watching Gildern impassively.
And Caliban stood motionless in the far corner of his own cell, watching both of them. It had not taken long for him to learn that different humans responded differently to confinement. Unfortunately, the lesson had not been worth the trouble he had been to in order to learn it.
Fiyle was plainly quite used to it. He had learned the art of endless waiting, of resigning himself to his fate until such times as circumstances altered in his favor. Not so Gildern. The Ironhead security chief was a bundle of nerves, unable to keep himself still.
“I should not be in here!” he announced. “I didn’t even know Simcor had been kidnapped until they came and arrested me for it.”
“We know,” Fiyle said blandly. “The situation hasn’t changed since the last time you told us that, ten minutes ago.”
“I should be out there looking for him, not stuck in this damned cell!”
Justen Devray chose that moment to come in from the front room, and he had heard what Gildern had said. “Relax,” he said. “You’re probably doing him more good in there then you would be joining in the fun and games outside. There are upwards of a thousand robots looking for him by now. What could you do that they couldn’t?”