Isaac Asimov - Caliban

“Gangs of drunken Settlers wandering the streets of Hades, destroying valuable robots, have not helped your cause,” Kresh said dryly. “However, I am willing to accept the point that you cannot control your people—the devil knows I can’t control mine. I am even prepared to believe that a terraforming project might well require some rough-and-ready sorts to make it work. The sort that might find ordering a robot to commit suicide amusing.” He glared at her, but she displayed no reaction.

“None of the bashing incidents have been good public relations for you,” he went on. “But the root cause of resentment is your very presence, your annoying self-confidence that you can so easily solve the climate problems that have bedeviled us.” He made a gesture with his right hand, indicating all of the vast underground settlement he was in. “The casual way in which you built this place was disconcerting. And I might add it seems a very permanent home for ‘a group that does not intend to—ah— settle permanently.’ ”

Tonya Welton nodded thoughtfully. “I have heard all these points before, and they are good ones. But must we act as if we don’t know what we are doing, just to salve the feelings of the Infernals? We have assembled the finest experts on terraforming from all the leading Settler worlds. They are good, they are skilled, and they brought their equipment. They used it to build their own—temporary—dwelling place. Would you trust the rebuilding of your world to people who were unsure of their skills? Or to people who could not excavate a simple cavern?” Tonya gestured toward Ariel, inert in her niche. “You have seen to it that many of us have robots, to convince us of the worth of your lifestyle. When we go, and leave this place behind as a gift to the city of Hades, we hope that some number of your people will take up residence, and see the advantages of our way of life.”

“There is little chance of that,” Kresh said, a bit too sharply.

“There is little chance of Settlers taking home robot slaves,” Tonya countered in an equally unpleasant tone.

There was a moment’s glaring silence, but then Donald spoke. “Perhaps,” he said, “it might be wise to leave topics of policy for the moment and return to more immediate concerns.”

Tonya looked toward Donald and grinned. “Always it comes to this point. You watch the tempers flare, and just when it is about to get out of hand, you politely suggest that your boss and I agree to disagree. I sometimes think you are wasted outside the diplomatic corps. But tell me, does it ever get dull for you, Donald, watching the same tired ritual again and again?”

“I would not characterize it as tired ritual, nor do I find it dull. Both of you are skilled debaters. I might add that, as a robot programmed for police service, I am a student of human behavior under stress of emotion. I watch, and I learn. It is most instructive.”

“All right, Donald,” Kresh said irritably. “You’ve got us both nicely calmed down again. Why don’t we move on to the Leving attack. The Governor’s office hyperwaved confirming orders to me this morning. I am to share all of our information with you. I don’t see why that is needful, but orders are orders. Donald, why don’t you give Madame Welton a summary of our information and theories so far.”

“Certainly.” Donald turned his rounded blue head toward Tonya Welton and gave a concise summary of the information they had developed since the attack. Tonya asked one or two questions as he went along, and listened carefully. She made no notes, but Kresh had no doubt she was also recording the conversation in some way.

At last Donald was finished. Tonya leaned back in her chair, stared up at the featureless white ceiling, and thought for a moment before saying anything.

Finally she looked back toward Donald and Kresh and spoke. “It seems to me that you are going to remarkable lengths to exclude the possibility of a robot as a suspect. Surely you will grant that it requires a good deal of special pleading to accept such elaborate explanations as boots with robot treads or remote control machines that look just like robots. There is an ancient rule of logic that teaches us that, absent compelling reasons to the contrary, it is wisest to use the simplest possible explanation. Taken at face value, the evidence is overwhelming that a robot committed the crime. Why not at least examine that very simple explanation?”

“Yes,” Kresh agreed uncomfortably, “but the Three Laws—”

“The Three Laws are going to drive me mad,” Welton snapped. “I know the Three Laws as well as you do, and you need not recite them again like some bloody holy catechism. I swear, Kresh, you Spacers might as well face facts and admit that worship of those dismal Laws is your state religion. The answer to all problems, the end of all quests, can be found in the infinite good of the Three Laws. I say that if we just assume that the Three Laws make a robot attack on Leving impossible, I think we are missing a key point.”

“And what might that be, Lady Welton?” Donald asked mildly. It passed idly through Kresh’s mind that it was well that Donald was around, if only to lubricate the wheels of conversation. Welton had obviously paused for the sole purpose of eliciting the question Donald had asked, but Kresh was hell-damned if he would give her the satisfaction of asking it.

“A very simple point,” Tonya Welton replied. “With all due respect, Donald, robots are machines, and it is impossible for them to harm humans only because they are built in such a way to make that so. If all runcarts were built without a reverse gear, that would not render the construction of a machine with reverse gear impossible. A machine that is built one way can be built another. Suppose robots were built another way? What is to prevent it—if the builder decided not to follow your precious Three Laws? Would not the rock-hard belief that robots cannot commit such acts provide a perfect cover? The robot’s builder need not even run, for none will think to pursue.

“One other point. This speechblock put on the staff robots, preventing them from saying who ordered them to go to the far wing of the labs that night. It seems to me that a mechanical device, an override circuit, would be more effective in setting an absolute block against speech concerning certain subjects than in giving an intricate series of orders to each and every robot. It would be easier to set up as well. And before you object that such a speechblock circuit would weaken the robot’s ability to obey the damned Three Laws, we are assuming that the attacker was not too fastidious about such things. Donald—how large a piece of microcircuitry would that take?”

“It could be made small enough to be invisible to the human eye, and could be wired in anywhere in the robot’s sensory system.”

“I’ll bet your people never even thought to look for a physical cause for the speechblock, did they? Go over a few of the lab robots with a microscope and see what you find. As to why the perpetrator would need to set blocks for multiple time periods—perhaps he or she wanted some privacy while using the lab’s facilities to make up the attacker robot—or even the robot suit you two are postulating, if you insist that all robots must obey the Laws.”

There was an uncomfortable silence before Tonya continued. “Even if you do insist on that,” she said at last, “there are documented cases where Three Law robots did kill human beings.”

Donald’s head snapped back a bit, and his eyes grew dim for a moment. Tonya looked toward him with some concern. “Donald—are you in difficulty?”