Eager, p.18
Eager, page 18
The ball hovered above him, its outline clear against the sky.
Images came into Eager’s head, as in a dream: Sphere was guiding him from the professor’s house, through the streets, all the way to LifeCorp’s headquarters. Once there, he could not get over the wall.…
“I understand,” he said. “Everything had to happen the way it did. If I hadn’t been caught I wouldn’t have met the boys again and I wouldn’t have found out about the professor and I wouldn’t have got here on a delivery pod.” He tilted his head as a thought struck him. “But you could have told me where to go, what to do. I would have understood.”
Sphere blazed with light.
“Perhaps,” mused Eager, “I can only see a bit of the truth. Like looking through a doorway and seeing half a table. There’s a bigger view I don’t know about. Perhaps I had to meet the scientists and the marauders had to come here….”
The rays shone so brightly that Eager took a step backward. And in that moment he learnt something else. He was about to face the hardest test of all.
Sphere floated ahead of the robot until they reached an immense titanium door that drew back with a subtle whoosh. Eager was surprised not to be stopped, but perhaps the door had recognized him as a robot and decided that he was staff. He and Sphere entered LifeCorp’s headquarters.
Eager found himself standing directly beneath the roof of the building. The glass vault was so high that he had to bend backward to look at it. As he watched, Sphere flew up and up until it became a distant particle that merged with the glass. Eager waited for some time; when the ball did not reappear he walked on.
Beyond the cavernous entrance the building was divided into floors. Eager followed a corridor straight ahead of him. There was no one about, human or robot. He walked for some time until he reached a seating area opposite a row of lifts. A girl with dark hair looked round at his approach. “I’ve seen you before …,” she began, frowning. “I know! You came to my house with Gavin. What are you doing here?”
Before Eager could reply she said, “Of course, the Bells sent you to see that I was safe.”
“No,” said Eager without thinking. He realized his mistake when the girl, who he remembered was called Marcia, frowned at him again. He said quickly, “I came of my own accord,” which pleased him because it was the truth, although it did not answer Marcia’s question directly.
“Your own accord? You mean, you chose to come?” Marcia stared in amazement. “I’ve been looked after by robots all my life, and never, ever has a robot been concerned about me from choice.”
Eager began to feel that the misunderstanding had gone too far. But he was silenced by the dramatic change in her expression. Unknown to him, it was the look that came over her when she stood before one of her favorite paintings in a gallery: a mixture of awe and gratitude.
“Are you sure no one sent you to find me?” she said at last.
“Quite sure,” said Eager, delighted to be direct for once.
Marcia turned her head away from him for a moment. When she faced him again she was her usual self.
“I came to see Mr. Lobsang,” she said crossly. “The technocrats say he isn’t here. So I insisted on talking to the person in charge. They told me to wait. That was ages ago. People have been running all over the place and now they’ve gone upstairs and won’t let me go with them.”
A lift door opened and a man and a woman, both in gray overalls, came out. “There you are,” said the woman to Marcia.
“What’s that?” said the man.
Eager had heard this question so many times that his patience was wearing thin. “How rude—”
Marcia stood up and grabbed his arm. “Play dumb,” she whispered. “This is my personal robot. I made him myself as part of a project. I’m very proud of him.”
The technocrats laughed, though not unkindly. “So you should be. What’s it built with?” asked the woman.
“A quantum transistor, neural networks and … er … holographic memory system,” Marcia reeled off confidently. “It was a first attempt so naturally he’s a bit clunky.”
Clunky! Eager hung his head and drooped his arms in a bid to look as clunky as possible.
“The head of robotics is ready to see you now.” The woman led them into the lift. She took them up to a spacious room with high windows, and left them. It was dusk outside and the lighting in the room was low. At the far end, beside a small table, stood a stocky figure with white hair. Marcia waited by the door, uncertainly. Eager saw the face he knew so well, and the world began to spin.
“EGR3,” said a gentle voice, “it’s all right.” The man had stepped forward and was looking closely at him. Eager focused his gaze on Professor Ogden’s eyes and recognized the same quality he had seen in the room under the eaves.
“That look in your eyes …,” he began.
“Is a kind one.”
Memories of his early life flashed through Eager’s brain. Every night the professor had been at his side, questioning, teaching, encouraging him. Now they were together again. Yet he knew that it was impossible to return to the simple days of the creator and his creation. Eager was changed from the robot that had left the laboratory, and though he looked the same, the man had changed too.
“If you’re so kind,” piped up an imperious voice, “why is one of your robots holding my family prisoner?”
Professor Ogden turned to Marcia and held out his hands in a gesture of regret. “It’s been a long time since I had anything to do with these robots. I can assure you that things will be different from now on.”
Eager tilted his head. He remembered telling the philosopher that Professor Ogden was good. But the professor had disappeared without a word and here he was, taking charge of the corporation that he claimed to have quarreled with. “Professor Ogden,” said Eager, “I’m not sure I trust you.”
The professor smiled. A little wistfully, however. “Good. Then I have achieved my aim of creating a robot that can truly think for itself.”
“So that’s who you are!” exclaimed Marcia. “I know all about you. You used to work for LifeCorp but you had to leave because you were a traitor.”
“Well, well, well …,” murmured the professor. He indicated an arrangement of soft chairs in the corner. “Shall we sit down? I’ve nothing to offer you, I’m afraid, and everyone is rather busy at the moment. Ah, here is some cake. Most fortuitous …”
“What are you doing here?” Marcia asked, cutting a slice of fruitcake. “Are you really in charge?”
“I am indeed. I was summoned here by my former colleagues. Yes,” he said, seeing the look on her face, “I was surprised too. The head technocrats came to my house yesterday evening. They wanted my help to avert a crisis. Apparently they’ve been watching my activities with interest over the years.” He paused and stared at his feet for a moment. “Do you know the story of Icarus?”
Marcia shook her head, her mouth full of crumbs.
“He and his father were imprisoned by the King of Crete— most ungrateful of the king. Icarus’ father was a very clever engineer, you see, but he knew too many secrets. They plotted to escape by building themselves wings made out of wax. It must have taken them a while but at last they set off and all was well. Icarus and his father were overjoyed at the success of their invention. They flew on, high above the sea. Then Icarus grew too bold. Without considering the consequences, he flew higher and higher toward the sun until the heat began to melt his wings and down he plunged, into the sea.”
“He must have known his wings would melt,” Marcia said scornfully.
“I’m sure he did. But at what point did he forget?” The professor smiled.
“It isn’t true,” said Marcia, “it’s a Greek myth. Why are you telling me it?”
“I see it as a lesson to us all. Sometimes we have to fly close to the sun because part of being human is to reach for things beyond us. The secret is to know when to stop.”
He rose and began to pace up and down. Eager watched him anxiously, hoping he would become the cheerful professor he remembered. Was this how it felt to be a parent, he wondered, longing to spare your child from unhappiness?
The professor spoke again. “There used to be a group of us—myself, Mr. Lobsang and others—dedicated engineers who discovered the secret of artificial life. Can you imagine it? We were dazzled at the prospect of building robots like ourselves. Scientists have always been driven by curiosity and ambition—healthy human instincts. And for many of us the ultimate goal is to create a machine in our own image. Unfortunately we are also fueled by human vanity and that can blind us to many things.”
Marcia licked her finger and meticulously picked up the last crumbs on her plate. “My dad says you betrayed them.”
Professor Ogden sighed. “They were my colleagues but I couldn’t agree with what they were doing. It was too dangerous….” He shook his head at the recollection. “I saw then that we had flown too high in our ambition. I was like Icarus! Except my wings didn’t melt: shock and anxiety turned my hair white, as you can see.”
Marcia and Eager looked with fresh interest at the professor’s unruly hair. The door opened and a woman, wearing a gray suit and the highest heels Marcia had ever seen, came into the room. “Professor, it’s time for your interview.”
“Thank you.” Professor Ogden sat down at the table. “Please excuse me,” he said to his visitors. “Perhaps you would care to watch on the gobetween next door?”
CHAPTER 26
Mr. Bell, Gavin and Fleur waited outside the factory for the flying pod that would take them to Mrs. Bell’s hotel. Minutes later it arrived. By the way it zoomed toward them and dropped down like a hawk, they could tell that it was designed for speed. Mr. Bell squeezed in beside the pilot and there was just enough room for Gavin and Fleur to sit behind them.
The pilot, a young woman in a red flying suit, insisted that they strap themselves in. They soon understood why. The pod took corners at full tilt and even with seat belts they were thrown from side to side. Since no one was in a mood to speak, they concentrated mainly on staying upright.
“Whoa!” said Fleur as the pod swerved to avoid a high building.
“There’s Mum’s hotel!” cried Gavin.
More pods joined them in the sky and together they descended to the hotel grounds. The perfect lawn was now unrecognizable, churned up by armored vehicles.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” said Mr. Bell gravely. “The situation must have got worse.”
The Bells stepped out onto the grass. Dozens of soldiers jumped from the other pods and marched up to the entrance. Mr. Bell and the children fell into line behind a powerfully built officer carrying a huge laser borer. The robot in red-and-green livery glided forward to greet him.
“Good afternoon, sir. Shall I take your luggage?”
“I think not,” said the officer, clasping his gun to his broad chest.
Mr. Bell caught up with him. “What’s going on? My wife and baby are inside….”
“We’re here to hold back the BDC4s,” said the officer. He added wryly with a glance at the robot, “Otherwise it would appear to be service as usual.”
Gavin and Fleur followed the men into the hotel. “Hurry up and clear this space!” boomed a man with stripes on his jacket. The soldiers in reception were removing flowers and pushing back furniture as robots skated around them, asking the same questions over and over again:
“Shall I show you to the dining room?”
“Would you care for a drink?”
“Do you have any laundry, sir?”
When they failed to get the response they were expecting the robots’ behavior grew more agitated. One of them seized the back of an armchair that a soldier was carrying and forced him to play push-me pull-you. Other robots replaced the vases of flowers on tables, ignoring the fact that the tables were now piled upside down on top of sofas.
The man with stripes on his jacket bellowed, “For heaven’s sake, someone turn off these robots!”
A familiar figure hurried over from the direction of the lifts. “It’s Mum!” cried Fleur. Before her family could greet her, Mrs. Bell clapped her hands and shouted in ringing tones, “GMP robots! Oranges are blue. Retire to your maintenance room.”
Every robot stopped what it was doing and joined an orderly line that filed out of the reception area.
“Well done,” said the man with stripes.
Mrs. Bell smiled. “It’s our code to get them to stop. Sounds like nonsense, I know, but it’s no good using a sentence that they might hear in ordinary conversation. They’ll keep away now until we give them new orders. Oh!”
The cry came when she noticed her husband and children. They hugged each other, backing against the wall while the soldiers continued to reorganize the room.
“Mum, where’s Charlotte?” said Fleur.
“Asleep in the day care center. She’s fine.”
“What about Eager?” said Gavin.
“The house said he went back to Professor Ogden,” said Mrs. Bell.
“But why?”
“Not now, Gavin,” said his dad. “I want to know what on earth’s going on here.”
Mrs. Bell shook her head despairingly. “The BDC4s refused to work this morning. They took over some of the rooms, playing loud music, watching the gobey….” She turned to Gavin and Fleur. “I owe you an apology, don’t I? You were right about them…. Anyway, Mr. Lobsang was here and said he would turn off their power. But it seems they’ve learnt to switch radio channels. They’re tuning in to other robots’ frequencies.”
“Why doesn’t he turn off every frequency?” said Fleur.
“Then everything would stop, wouldn’t it?” said her brother. “Transport, hospitals, heating …”
“You’re quite right, Gavin,” said his dad. “We depend on robots to run all those services. Turn off the radio waves that power them and our cities and quarters would be in chaos. What does Mr. Lobsang suggest?”
Mrs. Bell looked concerned. “He went up to talk to the BDC4s an hour ago. He seems to think that if he can understand what they want he’ll be able to control them. But he hasn’t come back yet.”
“You mean they’ve kidnapped him?” cried Fleur.
“We’ve spoken to him and he says he’s all right. Obviously he could still be in danger. That’s why the army’s here.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” said a voice. A soldier grinned at them. “Colonel wants a briefing, if you wouldn’t mind leaving.”
Mrs. Bell led them along a corridor to the bar. “It should be quieter here and we can watch the gobey for news,” she said.
The floor became a mosaic of silver tiles leading to orange chairs around tiny silver tables. Although it was daytime, the area was dark and dimly lit by candles and luminous tubes along the walls. It was hard to tell how many people were sitting at the tables.
The manager himself came over to them. “Someone has to wait on the guests,” he said pleasantly, handing them enormous card menus.
The menu was full of exotic-sounding drinks. Gavin and Fleur tried to hurry, given the urgency of the situation, but it was difficult to choose.
“A beer, please,” said Mr. Bell.
“Red wine,” said his wife.
With a burst of music, the gobetween on the opposite wall came to life. The manager brought their drinks. Gavin’s Venu-sian Serenade was a swirl of all kinds of black and red berry juices. Fleur had ordered a Stargazer, which was fizzy and had little exploding balls of apple juice. They had just taken their first sip when a newsreader appeared on the screen.
“Following outbreaks of threatening behavior, LifeCorp confirms it is shutting down all BDC4s. LifeCorp launched the robots a month ago, calling them ‘a technological breakthrough’ and claiming that they could identify with human feelings. We’re going now to the minister for technology. Good afternoon, Minister. This is a very worrying situation, is it not?”
A screen behind the interviewer showed a sunny office with a view over the river. An immaculately dressed woman sat behind a big desk. She smiled reassuringly. “We must remember that there is only a small number of BDC4s in the world. In the last month they’ve all been on trial in private homes and businesses.”
“And oil fields?” said the interviewer.
“In one or two countries, yes. But they have never been used in essential services, that’s to say, hospitals, transport, water and so on. These services continue to be run by robots whose safety has been proved over many years.”
“Can you confirm that all the BDC4s are now shut down?”
“The majority, yes. I understand that a few are still being shut down as we speak. These things can take time. But I assure you that there is no threat to public safety.” She smiled again, a little wider this time.
“Thank you, Minister.” The man turned back to his viewers. “In a moment we shall talk to the head of robotics at LifeCorp. Meanwhile we visit our newsrooms around the world to confirm that BDC4s have indeed been shut down….”
“Good,” said Fleur. “Perhaps LifeCorp can explain what’s happened.”
“Don’t expect too much information, Fleur,” said Mr. Bell, with a quick glance at his wife. “You see, LifeCorp owns most of the news stations. So the man will probably ask a few polite questions and LifeCorp will only tell us what it wants us to know.”
Fleur stared at her father as she took this in. “How can we find the truth, then?”
He shrugged. “It’ll be on the gobey somewhere. But it’s like a great big jigsaw puzzle. Lots of pieces of information to fit together and millions of them don’t belong in your puzzle at all.”
“Although on this occasion,” said Mrs. Bell, “we seem to be at the center of events. At least we can see for ourselves what’s happening.”
“It’s Professor Ogden!” said Gavin, who was still watching the gobetween.
“So it is,” said Mr. Bell. “Since when was he head of robotics at LifeCorp?”
“Shhh,” said a voice.
“Can you explain to us, Professor, how these robots have gone wrong?”
