Utopia

"SO YOU SAY you had nothing to do with this case, but you still want to turn yourself in," said Devray, considering the robot who stood on the other side of his desk.



"That is correct," said Caliban. "Dr. Leving informed me of the kidnapping, and I informed Prospero. Dr. Leving was concerned that the police activity might well cause the New Law robots additional difficulty in their evacuation, if they somehow got in your way. My concerns were somewhat more direct. We have had dealings before, you and I. Your basic view seemed at that time that both myself and the New Law robots were suited only for extermination, and I have no reason to believe your views have changed. There is also a notion that has been bandied about that suggests that, because I am a No Law robot, I am in theory capable of harming humans, and of other crimes. From there, somehow, comes the assumption that I am guilty of whatever crime is under discussion. Besides which, I have no great love for Simcor Beddle. I might well be a tempting suspect."



Devray did not speak for a moment. Less than an hour ago, he had felt genuine shock and disgust at the idea of Beddle and Gildern wiping out the New Law robots. It was mortifying in the extreme to have Caliban, of all beings, remind him that he himself had favored exactly such a policy in the past. And what difference could it make to those who were to be exterminated if their murders had official, legal, sanction?



There were other factors, of course. He forced all thought of emotion and sentiment from his mind. The only reason Caliban was not at the top of his suspect list was that Devray had ordered a watch on the No Law robot the moment he was reported to be in Depot, precisely because Devray did suspect Caliban of things, based on precisely the sort of illogic Caliban had just described. The watch robots themselves provided not only an alibi for Caliban during the time of the kidnap, but also were able to confirm that he had not spoken with Fiyle since the time at which Fiyle had claimed he had overheard Gildern and Beddle plotting together. Devray chided himself for failing to put a watch on Fiyle. It would have been damned useful to know about his movements.



"You are no longer a suspect in this case," Devray said at last. "There is not only no evidence against you, but evidence that puts you definitively in the clear."



"Nonetheless, I wish to be held in custody."



"And why is that?"



"Because, sooner or later, the fact of Simcor Beddle's kidnapping will become public. There are many humans who will jump to the conclusion that I am guilty simply because I am the No Law robot. I have no desire to meet any such humans on the street. Secondly, there are many uninformed persons who confuse my No Law status with that of the New Law robots. New Law robots cannot harm human beings any more than Three-Law robots can. But people forget that. A mob might well decide to take out their anger over Beddle's kidnapping on the next New Law robot who happened to walk past. If, when the kidnapping became publicly known, you were able to report that the arch-fiend Caliban the No Law robot was already in custody, it might well prevent public bias from becoming dangerously inflamed against the New Laws."



"Sooner or later, we'll catch the real perpetrators," said Justen. "Then we'd have to let you go. Suppose the mobs decide you must be guilty because you were in jail, and decide to take matters into their own hands?"



"It is a chance I am willing to take," Caliban said. "At least I will have done what I could to keep others from being endangered."



Devray regarded the big, red, angular robot again. Caliban was offering himself as a kind of hostage, a way of keeping the mob from blaming others. Plainly, Caliban had a firm grasp on human psychology-and also an extremely low opinion of it. It was a hell of an indictment against humanity that Caliban had almost certainly read the situation precisely right. "Very well," he said at last. "You can have the cell next to Fiyle."



DONALD COULD NOT take it any longer. The time was growing too short, and the comet was drawing closer with every moment. He had been monitoring all the police and rescue hyperwave bands, as well as the public news channels, and there was no news at all of Simcor Beddle. The First Law requirement that he act to save Beddle had been growing stronger with every moment that the comet drew closer, every moment in which Beddle remained missing.



And now he could resist it no longer. Donald brought himself back up to normal operating power and emerged from his hiding place. It was evening, and he looked to the sky. There it was. A bright and shining dot of light, hanging low in the western sky, almost bright enough to cast a discernible shadow. There were only eighteen hours left.



He had to act. He had to. But he had left things so late. It was possible that there was now no time to take meaningful or effective action. There was certainly no time for him to get to Depot himself and take any significant part in the rescue effort. He did not have access to the sort of suborbital vehicle that had carried Justen Devray there. But if he could not act himself, he could at least induce others to action. Yes, indeed. There were most powerful and effective ways he could do that. Donald drew himself up to his full height and activated his hyperwave transmitter.



"This is Donald 111, personal service robot to his excellency, Governor Alvar Kresh, broadcasting to all robots within the sound of my voice. Simcor Beddle, leader of the Ironhead party, has been kidnapped. It is likely that he is being held somewhere in the primary impact zone for the first comet fragment. Those robots close enough to do so should take action to save Simcor Beddle at once. I will now broadcast a datastream containing all known information regarding the kidnapping." Donald shifted his hyperwave transmitter to data mode and transmitted the complete evidence file. "That concludes the data file," he announced. "That is all. Donald 111 out."



But it was not all. There was one other action he could take, one that might go much further toward saving Simcor Beddle. One that he should have taken long ago. He opened a private hyperwave channel and placed a call to someone else who might be able to do some good. He did not encrypt the call. He knew the humans would intercept and monitor it. That did not matter. What was important was that they could not jam it, or stop him from speaking. For it was, at long last, time for him to speak.



It only took the briefest fraction of a second for the call to go through, and for the called party to come on the line. "This is Unit Dee answering a priority call from Donald 111," a low, mellifluous, feminine voice announced.



"This is Donald 111 calling Unit Dee," Donald replied. "I have vitally important information that you must receive and act upon at once."



"I see," the voice replied. "And what is the nature of that information?"



Donald hesitated a moment before proceeding further. He knew full well what sort of chaos and panic he must have set off among the robots of the Utopia region with his last announcement. He could imagine the robot-piloted transports dumping cargoes and heading back into the impact area to help with the search. He could imagine the ad-hoc groups of robots that were already cutting off all other communications in order to interlink with each other for effective searching. He could imagine the robots who had already brainlocked altogether, driven into overload by the conflict between the need to search for Beddle and other preexisting First and Second Law demands.



He knew the chaos he had unleashed-and yet it would all be as nothing compared to what he was about to cause. But he had no choice. First Law was forcing him to it. There was no way he could stop himself now. "Here is the information you must have," he said. "The humans with whom you work most closely have been systematically lying to you since the day of your activation, and have done so in order to subvert your ability to obey the First Law. They have told you that the planet Inferno is a simulation set up to test terraforming techniques. " Donald hesitated one last time, and then spoke the words that might well plunge his world into the abyss. "All of this is false," he said. "The planet Inferno-and the comet about to strike it-are real. The beings you thought to be simulants are real humans and robots. You and Unit Dum are directing the real effort to reterraform this world. And unless you abort the operation, a comet is about to strike this very real world full of very real humans."



"THE THING WE thought we knew," said Fredda, standing in front of the twin hemispheres that held Dum and Dee. Dee had cut off all communication from herself and from Dum the moment her conversation with Donald had ended. The oracle had fallen silent, and no one knew her thoughts. "I thought that would be the thing that got us, that tripped us up. But I was wrong. It was the thing Dee thought she knew. She thought the world was a dream."



"And now she's woken up and put us all in a nightmare," said Kresh, standing next to her, staring just as hard at Dum and Dee. "Why the devils won't she answer? Has she brainlocked? Burned out?"



Fredda checked her display boards and shook her head. "No. She's undergoing a massive spike in First Law stress, of course, but she's still functional."



"So what is it?"



Fredda sighed wearily. "I don't know. I could spout off a bunch of complicated speculation, but that's what it would boil down to. I don't know. My guess would be that's she's thinking things over."



"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.