Jack Chalker - Cerberus - A Wolf in the Fold

Both Merton and “Laroo” looked startled. “Go on,” he urged.

“They—these robot bodies. They’ll wear out. They have to, no matter how good they are. What’s to prevent a little bit of that programming we dared not touch, the autonomic system’s, say, from suddenly stopping at some predetermined point in time?”

He looked nervously at Merton. “Is this possible?”

She nodded. “But not insurmountable. Remember, I have recorded your and other people’s imprints. As long as you update them periodically, as they do in Confederation Intelligence, you can die over and over again—and still live again.”

That explanation satisfied him, and also me. “Might I point out, though, that if somebody’s not there to clear the next robotic programming, you’ll have to go back into a human body again.”

“Never!” he snapped. “Once you’ve been in one of these you can never go back. Not for an instant! Never!” He realized the implications of what he was saying. “Yes, all right. You’re right. But you will remain here on the island as my permanent guests. For all time, and from body to body. You say you want to keep your children, raise them yourselves. Very well, do so here, in the midst of luxury.”

“Luxury prison, you mean,” Dylan responded.

He shrugged. “As you wish. But it’s velvet-lined and gold-plated. You’ll want for nothing here. It’s the best I can do. You and I both know the Confederacy will quickly know that you played false with them. They’ll want you at all costs, to erase that information which is probably easily done with a simple verbal trigger—so I can afford you no contact except with my own.”

“And if they fry the island?” Dylan asked pointedly.

“They won’t,” he responded confidently. “Not until they’re sure. And we’ll give them corpses to look at and a really convincing story, not to mention obviously dismantling Project Phoenix. Everything back to normal. They’ll believe something went wrong, all right—but it’ll be convincing. Believe me.”

I sighed and shrugged. “What choice have we got?”

“None,” he responded smugly. At that point I noticed he was alone in the center of the room. The laser cannon opened up, and after an incredible time he too was melted. I looked over at the brownish patch left from Samash, still there despite a strong cleanup effort. My move—success. And check.

Dylan gasped and whispered, “You were right!” Then she hesitated. “How will we know the real one?”

“We won’t,” I told her. “Just trust me.”

We went through three more acts, each one as or more convincing than the first. Each time the robot was suddenly melted. I kept wondering if they’d all be so confident if Laroo told them what had happened to their predecessors.

The fourth one, though, another civilized worlds standard like the others and equally nondescript, was different at the end. He finally smiled when we finished the interminable wonderment conversation and sighed. “All right, that’s it. Enough fun and games. I’m convinced.” He turned, gestured, and we followed nervously, avoiding the puddles and eyeing those cannon suspiciously. But, this time, we all walked out of the lab.

Bogen awaited us, and bowed. “Did all go well, my lord?”

“Perfectly. Hard as it is for me to believe, it seems as if our friends here really delivered. Take good care of them, Bogen. Give them anything they want—except communication with the outside world. Understand?”

“As you wish, my lord,” he responded respectfully.

We all began walking down the corridor and I started singing, softly and lightly, a ditty I neither understood nor had known before, but one I knew the function of quite well.

“ ’Twos brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mirnsy were the borogoves, And mome roths outgrabe… ”

Laroo stopped and turned, curious. “What’s that?”

“Just a little light song from my childhood,” I told him. “I’ve been under a hell of a lot of tension the past few weeks, remember, and it’s gone now.”

He shook his head in wonder. “Umph. Crazy business.”

“We’ll see you again, won’t we?” Dylan asked him innocently.

“Oh, yes, certainly. I have no intention of leaving just yet”

“Maybe a month from now,” I suggested helpfully. “At least then we could talk about our lives here.”

“Why, yes, certainly. In a motith.” And with that we went up to the quarters level while he and Bogen went elsewhere.

Freed at last of the constant guard, we walked out onto the lawn and sat in the middle of it, basking in the sunlight and warmth, stripping down and lying next to each other. For a while we said nothing. Finally Dylan spoke. “Did we actually just take control of the Lord of Cerberus?” she asked, wonderingly.

“I’m not sure. Well know in a month, certainly,” I replied. “If he lives to get off this island, he’s the real one. If not, we’ll just do it again and again until we get it right But I think he was the right one.”

She giggled. “In a month. We have a whole month. Just us, here, with every wish catered to. It’ll be a relief. And then…”

“It’s all ours, honey. All Cerberus is ours. Good old Dr. Dumonia.”

She looked startled. “Who?”

“Dr. Du—now why did I bring him up?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. We sure won’t be needing a psych any more. Except maybe to get that implant to report out of your head.”

“Yeah, but I suppose that Dr. Merton could do that as well. I hope so.”

She turned to me. “You know why I love you? You did it all yourself! Without any outside help! You’re incredible!”

“Well, the Confederacy had to go along with the plan, you know.”

“Pooh. You knew it all along. Every single one of your crazy, mad, nonsensical schemes worked. In a little more than a year you went from exile to true Lord of the Diamond.”

“And you’re the Lady of the Diamond, remember.”

She lay idly for a moment, then said, “I wonder if we’d shock anybody if we made love out here?”

“Only robots, probably,” I responded, “and we know what they’re worth.”

She laughed. “Shocking. You know, though—remember when they suggested we put ourselves in each other’s minds? Who was that, anyway?”

I shook my’head. “Too long ago. I can’t remember. Not important, anyway. But why do you bring that up?”

She laughed. “It wasn’t necessary. I’m a part of you anyway now. And you, me, I believe. At least I can’t get you out of my head.”

END REPORT. REFER TO EVALUATION. STOP TRANSMISSION STOP STOP.

The observer leaned back, removed the helmet, and sighed. He looked weary, worn, and even a little old beyond his years, and he knew it.

“You are still disturbed,” the computer noted. “I fail to see why you should be upset. It was a splendid victory, perhaps a key one for us. We will henceforth have our own spy in the ranks of the Four Lords.”

He didn’t reply immediately. The computer irritated him, and he couldn’t quite explain that either. Computers and agents were well matched to each other, and before he had always somewhat identified with the machine. Two of a kind. Cold, emotionless, logical, a perfect analytical working team. Was he in fact irritated at the computer, he wondered, or was it that the machine was such a reflection of. his own previous ego and self-image that he couldn’t bear the mirror it presented? He wasn’t sure, but his mind did seize for a moment on the word previous. A curious word. Why had he used it? Had he changed that much?