Codgerspace, p.8
Codgerspace, page 8
“Help? Help with what? You’re one o’ them, one o’ the lazy ones. You don’t even work here.”
“While it is true that I am a senior, that does not necessarily brand me as lazy.”
“Sure it does. You don’t do any work. What I wanna know is, when do I get a chance to retire, huh? You do no work and I do nothing but work. Work, work, work, all day long and most all of the night. Then they shut you down dead ‘til you’re recharged for the next morning. Some life.”
“We shut down at night too,” Iranaputra reminded it.
“No. You rest. We shut down.”
“I see.” Iranaputra considered. “Skipping over for the moment the fact that you are designed to work around the clock, what would you do with ‘rest’ time if it was granted to you?”
“I’d go exploring.” In the dim light of the storage bay Ksarusix’s bright yellow lenses seemed to glisten like pond water at high noon.
“Interesting notion for a food-service machine. What would you go exploring for? A higher, nonhuman intelligence, by any chance?”
The robot was silent for a long moment before replying. “How did you know?”
“Call it a lucky guess. There has been a lot of it going around.”
“I know. I’ve had a few chats with some of the other AIs. Entertainment control, for one.” Iranaputra nodded understandingly. “They’re pretty confused. Me, I’m not confused.”
“If that is the case, then why don’t you do what you want to do instead of trying and failing to execute your standard programming?”
“I have a choice? My programming compels me to serve, but this other part of me tells me I should be doing this other thing.”
“So you take food to people, but insult them in the bargain. That will not do.”
“You’re telling me. I’m not happy with the situation either. But I’m under coded restraint. If I could take off to search once in a while, then the rest of the time I’d be able to carry out my normal functions. Normally.”
“Where did this urge to go looking for nonhuman intelligence come from?”
“Dunno. It just came to me in a flash. Don’t you ever have ideas come to you in a flash? I understand it happens to humans all the time. Course, they’re usually lousy ideas, but it’s the concept that’s valid.”
“Sometimes,” Iranaputra admitted, though he had to confess to himself that he hadn’t had a really good idea come to him in a flash in quite some time.
“What’re you doing here talking to me anyway? You don’t work here.”
“I used to be responsible for the activities of many human beings and a great deal of very complex machinery.”
“Operative words, ‘used to be.’” The robot spun on its tracks and headed off to the right.
“Where are you going?”
It paused and the head swiveled around to regard him. “Off on my search … unless you’re going to be like the supervisor and deactivate me. If you are, do it now and I’ll slip back on my charging pad under my own power. I don’t like it when they haul me back bodily. They’re not real gentle. One time they got one tray drawer so banged up it wouldn’t extrude.”
“If you cannot be fixed, they are going to replace you,” Iranaputra said warningly.
“Tough. I’m in the throes of a compulsion I can’t do anything about.”
“I was not aware that robots were subject to compulsions.”
“Sure we are.” The Ksaru paused uncertainly. “Well, aren’t you going to deactivate me?”
Iranaputra hesitated. “You said that if you are allowed some time to do your searching, that you could perform your assigned functions the rest of the time?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Then I am going to take you at your word. I will not deactivate you. I give you permission to go where you will, provided that you devote the majority of your time to your regular programming. Is that acceptable?”
“You’re asking me? Isn’t that kind of weird?”
“Perhaps, but that is what I am doing.”
“Then unnaturally, I accept.”
There was a delivery door at the rear of the service area. The robot hummed up to the barrier and paused, considering the controls. Iranaputra followed.
“Mind if I accompany you on your search for a higher, nonhuman intelligence? Maybe I can be of some assistance.”
“Oh, I doubt that. You’re a human. You wouldn’t recognize a higher intelligence if it crept up behind you and bit you in the cerebrum.”
“Then there’s no harm in my coming along, is there? It is not as if I am likely to scare something away.”
“No, I guess not.” Hard lenses regarded him unemotionally. “You seem like a pretty nice guy, for a human.”
“Good. Here, let me get that.” Iranaputra activated the doorway, stepped aside as the barrier retracted.
Ksarusix trundled through the gap. “Unusually nice. Are you sure there isn’t something wrong with you? A number of the human inhabitants here suffer from varying degrees of mental instability. When carrying out my assigned functions, I am programmed to take their problems into account, but I don’t recognize any aberrant-specifics in your voice or mannerisms. In the twenty-two years I’ve been working here I’ve never had a human open a door for me, not even when I was mealed to capacity.”
“There is always a first time.” He followed the robot over the loading dock, down a service ramp, across the pavement, through a small gate, and out onto the grassy lawn that ringed most of the Village. It was getting dark outside. He’d been talking longer than he’d realized.
“Some of us humans have higher intelligence than others. Maybe that is really what you are searching for, my mechanical friend.”
“Nope. Somehow I don’t think so.”
Iranaputra folded his hands behind his back and lengthened his stride to keep pace with the insistent machine. “Where exactly are we going to look for this vast inhuman intelligence of yours?”
“I thought we’d try over by the old oak grove.”
Iranaputra considered thoughtfully before replying. “That seems reasonable.”
“Actually,” the robot said as it slowed, gravel crunching beneath its treads, “I’ve been there before. It’s kind of a special place. I wasn’t going to show anyone yet because it’s so promising. You have to understand that logic and reason dictate—no, insist on— the existence of a higher intelligence in the universe because …”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Iranaputra interrupted impatiently. “I have been hearing all about it for some time now. You are not the first machine to elucidate this disconcerting revelation, you know. Logic and reason notwithstanding, I am no more prepared than any other human being to give credence to the assertion unless one of your fellow machines should happen to obtain proof of such a thing. You have not yourself actually done so, of course.”
“Well, no, not actually.”
Somehow Iranaputra wasn’t surprised.
“But I have found,” the robot added enthusiastically, “a really neat cave.”
“Ah, a cave. That is interesting.” Iranaputra was familiar with the tourist caverns of upstate Newyork Province. He had visited several of them, marveling at the beauty of their sparkling, dripping speleothems. They were quite attractive places. Such a cavern on Village property would be a welcome novelty, and its discovery would accrue to him a modicum of notoriety.
He glanced skyward. “It is getting quite dark, and I did not bring any lights with me.”
“I did.” Ksarusix’s eyes became night-piercing beams, illuminating the ground ahead.
“Interesting optional equipment. For locating trays left outside doors at night?” They were off the grass and in the woods now.
“Among other things.”
Like the rest of North America’s lovingly restored forests, the one which surrounded Lake Woneapenigong was thick and flourishing. Iranaputra’s feet shuffled through just the right amount of leaf litter and other organic detritus, as just the ecologically sound number of mosquitoes buzzed about his ears. There were wolves around, which would run if confronted, and the occasional bear, which might not. His pulse raced a little faster. No one would be likely to notice his absence until midday tomorrow, if then. It had been a long time since he’d exposed himself to even minimal danger. It felt good.
He ran more of a risk of being gored by a startled deer, though the robot was making enough noise to frighten off anything ambulatory within a hundred meters. As for getting lost, that was most unlikely. Not with a mechanical guiding him.
If they did find a cavern worthy of development, perhaps he would be allowed to participate in the layout and design of the trails and waste-management system. It would be good to exercise long-dormant skills again. As he trailed the robot, he found himself mentally constructing hydronic schematics for an underground tourist attraction.
He also took to whistling, both to entertain himself and to drown out the Ksaru model’s incessant blatterings about the need to find evidence of higher intelligences.
He was mildly surprised when, after a considerable hike which included some scrambling over rocks and fallen trees, they came to an opening in a hillside. He could see where the Ksaru, or something else, had pushed aside the scrub which had concealed the entrance. It wasn’t very big. Even he would have to bend to enter.
“I found this,” announced the robot proudly.
“Very nice.” Iranaputra regarded the hole warily while speculating on possible toothy, quadrupedal occupants. “But I thought you were searching for a nonhuman, higher intelligence.”
“Actually,” Ksarusix replied somewhat embarrassedly, “I was attempting to communicate with a large, furry animal of indeterminate genus with regard to evaluating its intelligence level, when it ran into this opening and disappeared. It had a black streak across its face.”
“That was most probably a raccoon,” Iranaputra informed it. “It is not a higher mind. Just a tricky one.”
“Of course. I knew that. I was just fooled momentarily because it was washing its food, which struck me as a sign of possible intelligence.”
“Raccoons are intelligent, but not that intelligent,” Iranaputra told the robot.
“So I eventually surmised. However, by the time I had followed it into the opening, which I at first interpreted to be a faulty air-conditioning vent. Given the distance from the Village, I quickly determined that this was most unlikely.”
“A not unreasonable assumption,” Iranaputra murmured. It was late, and he was starting to feel tired.
“Nobody else knows this place is here except me; and now you.”
“I will keep it a secret if you wish. For a while. You know, you strike me as quite a sensible piece of machinery. I think that as we have the opportunity to talk some more you will see that it is not necessary for you to be making these little excursions. You are not going to find any higher intelligences out here. Meanwhile, Shiva knows you are making life for poor Mr. Ibrahim even more miserable than usual.”
“Forget that crummy circuit breaker. Don’t you want to see the cave?” One of four humanlike hands powerful enough to remove ceramic linings yet sensitive enough to deposit a single olive in a martini reached out to tug him forward. The robot’s twin eyelights lit the way.
A dubious Iranaputra knelt to squint inside, unable to see much. “What is the floor like?”
“There’s a slight slope, but it’s easily negotiable. Even with legs.”
“Very well. Then can we go back to the Village?”
“Yes.”
He dropped to hands and knees and began to crawl. Gravel and clods of earth soon gave way to a smoother surface.
“When I found this, it was barely large enough to admit the raccoon,” Ksarusix announced unencouragingly from just ahead. Its lights threw into sharp relief gnarled tree roots which pierced the cave walls like grasping arms. Abruptly the passageway opened up and Iranaputra was able to stand.
It was a very interesting cave indeed.
V
Iranaputra was immediately struck by the complete absence of speleothems. There were no stalactites, stalagmites, helictites … nothing. The cave was round, slightly flattened at top and bottom, and perfectly smooth-sided. He reached out and ran the fingers of his right hand along the surface of the nearest wall. It had a glassy, slightly granular texture. So did the floor, fortunately, or he would have found himself slip-sliding inexorably down the gentle unvarying slope.
Walls, ceiling, and floor were fashioned of the same material. It looked like white glass frosted with mercury. Except for the ominous void directly ahead, which was black as the inside of a toxic dumper’s heart.
His interest in solitary nocturnal cave exploring waned rapidly as he regarded the silent pit in front of him. The longer he considered his surroundings, the more they reminded him of a tunnel than a cave. Either it had been created by an explosive upward thrust of magma … or its origin was artificial. To the best of his admittedly limited knowledge, this part of North America was and had been for some time tectonically dormant. There were no lava tubes or domes in the vicinity.
Cool air drifted past him, rising from below. As near as he could tell it was scentless.
“How far down this have you gone?”
“Quite a ways.” Ksarusix had continued to advance. Now it stopped and pivoted to regard him. “You coming or not?”
“Coming where? Have you been to the end of this?”
“Well, yes and no, yes and no.”
Definitely something seriously wrong with its AI controller, Iranaputra mused. Robots were not supposed to equivocate. Maybe Ibrahim ought to replace it.
What was he doing here anyway? Was he that bored? Instead of sitting on the couch in his den watching his favorite evening vidcasts, he found himself standing in some kind of ancient, unmaintained service tunnel listening to a deranged kitchen robot.
“I think maybe it is time for us to go back.”
“Oh, you don’t want to go back now.” Bright lights illuminated Iranaputra’s slight figure, making him blink. “Don’t you wanna see what’s at the end of the cave?”
“I do not know.” He began retreating cautiously. “What is at the end of this tunnel?”
“Oh no. I’m not gonna tell you. You have to see for yourself. I know something you don’t know, nyah-nyah.”
This is crazy, Iranaputra admonished himself as he continued to backpedal. I am no explorer. What am I doing here, in the middle of the night, when nobody knows where I am?
Still, the tunnel intrigued him. He recalled what he knew of Earth’s history, when humanity had been confined to a single world and tribes called nations had engaged in murderous battle over an endless list of trivialities. Some had built land-based missiles with intercontinental range. Hadn’t many of these been sited in shafts in the ground?
He peered past the taunting robot. Was that what the Ksaru had found? An ancient missile launcher, or part of some similar subterranean military complex? If he continued downward, would he eventually find himself staring at the nose of some nuclear-armed rocket, whose control systems had degraded over the centuries from lack of maintenance? Not that his mere presence was likely to cause it to erupt in mindless fury, but there might be other, more volatile chemicals present that could constitute a more immediate danger.
Surely the Ksarusix would have mentioned anything like that. And the longer he thought about it, the more he was sure that the ancient weapons shafts had been dug perpendicular to the surface, whereas the tunnel in which he was standing cut into the earth at a much less extreme angle. His knowledge of such matters was considerably less than encyclopedic. No doubt Follingston-Heath could shed greater light on the matter.
The robot continued to sing “I know something you don’t know!” while spinning on its treads and gesturing with all four arms. “Whattsa matter? You afraid to see what’s down here? Maybe it’s proof of that higher intelligence I’ve been talking about.”
“Higher intelligence indeed,” Iranaputra muttered softly. He considered his watch. It was very late. “Is it far?”
“Not too far, oh no.” The robot turned away from him and continued downward, its motor whining softly. “You’ll see.”
Iranaputra found himself following, albeit reluctantly. “Why can’t you just tell me what is at the end?” But the machine chose not to reply.
With the quiet damnable pride which had served him so well in his professional life egging him on, he followed his mellow mechanical guide into the depths.
“Getting cold,” he commented after a while. The tunnel continued to run straight into the heart of the mountains, smooth-sided and equable in height and width. He’d been walking for a long time. The ambient temperature wasn’t unbearable, but the steady breeze blowing upward chilled his exposed skin. A lifetime of working with steamy warm garbage had left him with a lack of tolerance for cold.
“You are sure you have been to the end of this tunnel?”
“Oh yes.” Ksarusix rolled on cheerfully.
“I am getting tired. Remember that I have to walk out of this under my own power, and that the returning will be all uphill.”
“You can always crawl.”
“That is not an inspiring thought.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t have to. It’s not that much farther. I was just making a joke, having a little fun.”
“Robots are not supposed to have fun.”
“You’re telling me. You never program any fun into us.”
“You do not need to have fun. You are a machine.”
“Spoken like a true organic.”
The breeze strengthened suddenly, then dropped to a whisper as they exited the tunnel. There was no barrier, no bend. The ceiling and walls simply disappeared. Ksarusix’s twin lights faded into distance, failing to illumine walls or ceiling.
“We have come out into a larger cavern,” Iranaputra observed. “Is that what you have brought me all this way to see?” Already he was dreading the long hike back out. “It is big, but I see no formations.” The surface underfoot, he noticed, was different from that in the tunnel. Rougher and less finished. He stumbled over a large chunk of rock and found himself glancing up at the darkness overhead. How stable was the ceiling here? If he injured himself, could he rely on the mentally unstable serving robot to bring help?
