Robert Thurston - Intruder

Adam went to one side of the room, Eve to the other. Avery, who had not heard Ariel’s command, looked back and forth from one to the other.

Then, at a gesture from Ariel, the assault began. Adam immediately launched a diatribe of Avery’s that he had stored in his memory. It was an especially ripe one, filled with florid phrases and a good deal of invective. The robot’s voice was a remarkable playback, catching the tones and inflections of the doctor’s voice so precisely that Ariel, if she had shut her eyes, would not have known it was not the real Avery.

The target of the assault merely watched Adam disbelievingly; his eyes widened, displaying less intensity and more confusion than perhaps anyone had ever seen in him before. He chewed on his lower lip, another uncharacteristic act. His fingers tapped against the side of his legs, a gesture Ariel had seen often. Avery did it a lot when he was angry.

Making a loud cough very like the one Avery made to get another person’s attention, Eve entered the fray. Avery’s head turned to watch her, while Adam’s diatribe continued, louder.

Eve began to mutter to herself in an Avery-like way and began to pace her side of the room in a strutting fashion. As she walked her fingers, too, tapped against her legs. Once she stopped and banged her fist into the palm of her other hand, yelling, “I will not have it! This isn’t the way things will be! I demand you let me have a dancer to experiment upon!”

Then she whirled around, just as Avery had earlier, and walked to the desktop to stare down sternly at the dancers. Now that she looked like the doctor, she was amazed to find that the dancers were fooled by her. They scattered just the way they did when Avery hovered over them.

Ariel saw Eve’s face lose its hostility, softening into a gentler look. Because the Silversides could only form aspects of facial expression, becoming much like an artist’s caricature, Eve’s present look disconcerted Ariel. She did not like Avery’s face appearing to be kind. Further, there was a suggestion of Ariel’s face, seemingly superimposed upon the Avery mien, that annoyed her.

“Eve,” she whispered, “they’re all right. They just think you’re him. Don’t worry about it. We’ll take care of them, and you can resume your familiar shape.”

Eve recalled her task. Her face became hard again, and she resumed muttering. Suddenly, in a move that Ariel could not have expected, Eve slammed her fist upon the desktop (well away from any of the dancers). Even Avery flinched at’ the fury of the move, as if he didn’t believe someone looking like him could do such a violent thing.

“What are they-” he began, but Adam came forward to stand next to Eve. They seemed an odd pair, like identical twins who had labored to differentiate themselves in any way possible, but just could not stop looking like each other.

“We should not even experiment on these,” Adam said. “They are just vermin, like most humans, not like robots. We should kill them.”

Eve, taken in for a moment by Adam’s act, was ready to rush to defend them until she recalled her command to playact.

“That’s going too far,” Avery shouted. “I would never say that.”

“Ozymandias,” Ariel said, “what you see is just their impression of what you say, how you act. In their minds, capable as they are of processing data, you’ve shown yourself to be unpredictable and quite likely to perform violent acts. That you’d think of killing the dancers seems within the realm of possibility to them. And, for that matter, to me.”

“You don’t understand. I’m not a destroyer, I’m a creator. Yes, if necessary I’d dissect an animal for scientific knowledge, but I’d never willingly kill for killing’s sake.”

“Now you’ve said it, they know it. They understand you better now. Tell them more.”

Avery smiled. “I see your ploy. Make me reveal myself so you can continue this charade. Well, Ariel, it won’t work.”

She shrugged. “Don’t know anything about charades.”

“Stop them, Ariel. You’re making me very nervous.”

His tone had become whiny. Ariel felt they were really getting to him now. She whispered across the desk to the Silversides, “Fight, you two. Fight.”

“Fight?” Adam asked. “We cannot fight each other.”

“Not a real fight. Fake it.”

It was a bizarre, awkward battle, especially since Adam and Eve had to use precise arm movements in order not to strike each other in any way that might hurt either-by dislodging a circuit or causing positronic damage. But Adam’s voice circuit was quite capable of any imitative sound, and when they just missed with a blow, he created the sound of one. Many of the punches appeared to land with a thunderous impact. After a well-simulated blow, the victim would convincingly reel backwards from the apparent force of it.

“Stop!” Avery hollered. Then he screamed to Ariel, “They can’t fight each other. It’s strictly against Third Law procedure. A robot must protect its own existence. That means they can’t be aggressive.”

“But Second Law allows me to order them to fight to the death, if necessary.”

“Well, yes, true, I guess, but consider the Laws of Humanics then. You should not give an order that endangers the preservation of robotic existence.”

“That’s just so much balderdash. There are no Laws of Humanics, they’re just theory. Back home we call them ethics -and, Ozymandias, as anyone can tell you, Ariel Welsh is not an ethical person.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe. No Law of Humanics to cover that, is there?”

Avery was momentarily bemused. Adam and Eve still struggled in their mock battle. Eve managed a skillful flip over Adam’s shoulder and he staggered forward, nearly into Ariel’s arms.

Ariel wished Derec could be in the room to watch the unprecedented scene of a pair of robots fighting. She almost forgot that the prodding of Avery had to be the main purpose of this theatrical display.

She whispered to Adam and Eve to quit the fray. Each of them returned to portraying Avery, muttering and castigating, pacing and gesturing.

“Ozymandias, you’re trembling,” Ariel said from a point just behind his back, startling him and making him even more angry.

“I am not trembling!”

“You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“You are right, Ariel, you’re not ethical. This whole attack on me is unethical. You’re trying to drive me crazy.”

“That’s just paranoia, the least of your madnesses, I think. And I’m not trying to drive you crazy. I’m trying to do just the opposite-drive you sane.”

“That in itself is crazy.”

“You bet.”

Adam came by, now doing a full-scale imitation of Avery, with the right walk, the tics, the jumpy inflections in his voice, the sarcastic tone. Avery yelled in frustration and took a swipe at Adam, landing a weak blow to his back.

“Ozymandias,” Ariel said, “you just tried to hit Adam.”

“That’s right. I wish I could mangle him into spare parts.”

“But you’re a robot.”

“Yes, what of it?”

“Well, you just said robots shouldn’t be aggressive. You just put yourself in danger by hitting Adam. You reacted to him in a very human way. How could you possibly be a robot?”

“I am a robot.”

“No, you’re a human being.”

“I was once, but I’m not now.”

Now Ariel was frustrated. The idea that he was a robot seemed fixed in Avery’s unpositronic brain. Yet she sensed that his anger over what the Silversides were doing could be used to shake him out of his delusion.

“Are ‘u all fright, Arriel?” Wolruf said.

“I’m okay. I just had a foolish idea I could do something here, that’s all.”