Clifford Simak - A Choice of Gods

"We went down to bedrock to anchor it," said Stanley. "Down to the solid limestone."

"And you call it the Project?" Red Cloud asked. It was the first time he had spoken. Jason had seen him stiffen in something close to outrage when the glittering robot had come out to meet them and had momentarily held his breath, afraid of what his old friend might feel compelled to say. But he had said nothing and Jason had felt for him a surge of affection and admiration. Over the years that Red Cloud had been coming to the house, there had developed between him and Thatcher something that resembled affectionate respect, but Thatcher was the only robot the old chief would give a second glance. And now here was this striding, competent, self-assured dandy of a robot performing as their host. Jason could imagine how the gorge must have risen in the old man's throat at the sight of him.

"That is what we call it, sir," said Stanley. "We called it that to start with and it got to be a habit and we never changed the name. Which is all right, of course. It is the only project that we have."

"And the purpose of it? It must have a purpose?" The way that Red Cloud said it, it was quite apparent he rather doubted that it had.

"Once we get to the place of comfort," the robot said, "I shall tell you all you wish. We have no secrets here."

They met other robots, going up the ramp, but they spoke no greeting and they did not stop. And here, thought Jason, as he went pacing down the ramp, was the explanation of all those hurrying, purposeful bands of so-called "wild robots" they had seen through all the centuries—purposeful, dedicated bands setting off in all directions, and returning from all directions, to get the needed materials for the building of this place.

They finally reached the bottom of the ramp and here the circle of the structure was much smaller than at the top and set in the space at the bottom of the pit was what appeared to be an open-sided house, a roof set on stout columns, housing tables, desks and chairs, along with filing cabinets and some rather strange machines. It was, Jason decided, a combination operations center and construction shack.

"Gentlemen," said Stanley, "if you please will find a place to sit, I shall listen to your questions and endeavor to tell you all you wish. I have associates I can summon…"

"One of you is enough," said Red Cloud harshly.

"I think," said Jason, hurrying to cover Red Cloud's words, "we'll not need to bother any of the others. I take it you can answer for the others."

"I have told you," the robot said, "that we have no secrets. And we're all of a single mind, or very nearly so. I can call the others if there is any need. It is not necessary to tell you, I suppose, that I recognized all of you except the gentleman who came from the stars. Your reputations have preceded you. The chief we know and have admired, although we are aware of the animosity that he and his people hold toward us. We can understand the basis of that attitude, although we do regret it, and we have made a point, sir," he said to Red Cloud, "not to intrude ourselves upon you."

"Your tongue," said Red Cloud, "is smoother than it should be, but I grant you have kept out of our way."

"Mr. Jason," said the robot, "we have regarded as a good, great friend and we've been most proud of Hezekiah and the work that he has done."

"If you felt that way," asked Jason, "why did you never come to visit us?"

"We had thought, somehow, that it might not be proper. You may be able to understand a little how we must have felt when suddenly there was no longer men to serve, when the very purpose of our existence was, in a moment, taken from us."

"But others come to us," said Jason. "We are knee-deep in robots, for which we are quite thankful. They have taken splendid care of us."

"That is true," said Stanley, "but you had all you needed. Perhaps far more than you needed. We had no wish to embarrass you."

"Then I would take it," said John, "that you would be glad to hear the People may be coming back."

"The People!" croaked the robot, shaken from the calm of his self-assurance. "The People coming back?"

"They have only been away," said John, "on other planets. They have relocated Earth and a survey ship is on its way. It may be arriving very soon."

Stanley struggled with himself. They could see him struggle. When he finally spoke, he was himself again. "You are sure of this?" he asked.

"Very sure," said John.

"You ask if we would be glad," said Stanley. "I do not think we would."

"But you said…"

"That was in the beginning. That was five thousand years ago. In that length of time, there must be changes. You call us machines and I suppose we are. But in five thousand years even a machine can change. Not mechanically, of course. But you made us machines with brains and brains can change. Viewpoints can shift. New values can be arrived at and accepted. Once we worked for men; it was our purpose and our life. Given a choice, we would not have changed the situation. We gained satisfaction from our servitude; we were built to gain satisfaction from a life of servitude. Loyalty was the love we gave the human race and we take no credit for it, for the loyalty was built into,us."

"But now," said Hezekiah, "you work for yourself."

"You can understand that, Hezekiah. You and your companions now work for yourselves."

"No," said Hezekiah. "We still work for Man."

The robot Stanley paid no attention to what Hezekiah said. "We were confused at first," he said, "and lost. Not we, of course, but each of us, each one separately. For we had never been one people; there had been no we; just each of us alone, doing what was expected of him, doing what he'd been fabricated for, and happy in the doing of it. We had no life of our own and I think that is what confused us so much when the People went away. For here suddenly, not we, but each of us alone, found that he did have a life of his own, that he could live without his human master, and that he still was capable of functioning had there been anything to do. Many of us stayed on for a time, in some cases a very long time, in the old households, performing the tasks we were supposed to do—as if our people had only gone off on a trip and would soon be coming back. Although even the stupidest of us, I think, knew this was not the case, for not only our own people, but everyone, had gone and that was most peculiar, for never before had everyone gone away at once. I think that the most of us grasped immediately what had happened, but we kept on pretending that it wasn't so, that in time the people would all come home again and, true to our conditioning and training, we continued in the tasks that now were no tasks at all, but simply senseless motions. In time we gave up the pretense, not all of us at once, of course, but a few of us at first and others a little later and others after them. We took to wandering, hunting for new masters, for tasks that were not senseless. We found no humans, but we did find ourselves, we found one another. We talked with one another; we laid our little, short-range, meaningless plans by consultation with others of our kind. First we sought for humans and finally, when we knew there were no humans who would take us in—for your people, Mr. Jason, had all the robots that you needed and your people, Chief Red Cloud, would have none of us, and there was a small band out West, on the coast, who were frightened of everything, even of us who tried to help them…"

Red Cloud said to Jason, "That would be the tribe from which your wanderer came. What was it he said they were afraid of? The Dark Walker, wasn't it?"

"They were field workers to begin with," Jason said. "He didn't tell me this, perhaps he doesn't know, but from what he told me it is very plain. Agricultural people who worked continually in the fields, following the plantings, the tending and the harvest. Ground down in poverty, living hand to mouth, tied so close to the soil they became the very soil. They had no robots, of course. They may only have glimpsed robots from a distance, if at all. Even having seen them, they may not have fully understood exactly what they were. The robots were far better off than they. They would have been frightened of a robot."