Isaac Asimov - Robots and Empire

The young man attempted a smile that stretched his thin cheeks without producing much of an effect on his face otherwise. He said, “Good-bye—and thank you again,” turned, and left.

Amadiro looked after him for a while thoughtfully, then touched a contact on the side of his desk.

“Maloon,” he said when Cicis entered, “I want that young man watched around the clock and I want to know everyone he speaks to—everyone. I want them all identified and I want them all questioned. Those whom I indicate are to be brought to me.—But, Maloon, everything must be done quietly and with an attitude of sweet and friendly persuasion. I am not yet master here, as you know.”

But he would be eventually. Fastolfe was thirty-six decades old and clearly failing and Amadiro was eight decades younger.

Amadiro received his reports for nine days.

Mandamus talked to his robots, occasionally to colleagues at the university, and even more occasionally to individuals at the establishments neighboring his. His conversations were utterly trivial and, long before the nine days had passed, Amadiro had decided he could not outwait the young man. Mandamus was only at the beginning of a long life and might have thirty decades ahead of him; Amadiro had only eight to ten at the very most.

And Amadiro, thinking of what the young man had said, felt, with increasing restlessness, that he could not take the chance that a way of destroying Earth might exist and, that he might be ignoring it. Could he allow the destruction to take place after his death, so that he would not witness it? Or, almost as bad, have it take place during his lifetime, but with someone else’s mind in command, someone else’s fingers on the contact?

No, he had to see it, witness it, and do it, else why had he endured his long frustration? Mandamus might be a fool or a madman, but, in that case, Amadiro had to know for certain that he was a fool or a madman.

Having reached that point in his thinking, Amadiro called Mandamus to his office.

Amadiro realized that in so doing, he was humiliating himself, but the humiliation was the price he had to pay to make certain that there wasn’t the slightest chance of Earth being destroyed without him. It was a price he was willing to pay—

He steeled himself even for the possibility that Mandamus would enter his presence, smirking and contemptuously triumphant. He would have to endure that, too. After the endurance, of course, if the young man’s suggestion proved foolish, he would see him punished to the full extent that a civilized society would permit, but otherwise—

He was pleased, then, when Mandamus entered his office with an attitude of reasonable humility and thanked him, in all apparent sincerity, for a second interview. It seemed to Amadiro he would have to be gracious in his turn.

“Dr. Mandamus,” he said, “in sending you away without listening to your plan, I was guilty of discourtesy. Tell me, then, what you have in mind and I will listen until it is quite clear to me—as I suspect it will be—that your plan is, perhaps, more the result of enthusiasm than of cold reason. At that time, I will dismiss you again, but without contempt on my part, and I hope that you will respond without anger on your part.”

Mandamus said, “I could not be angry at having been accorded a fair and patient hearing, Dr. Amadiro, but what if what I say makes sense to you and offers hope?”

“In that case,” said Amadiro slowly, “it would be conceivable that we two could work together.”

“That would be wonderful, sir. Together we could accomplish more than we could separately. But would there be something more tangible than the privilege of working together? Would there be a reward?”

Amadiro looked displeased. “I would be grateful, of course, but all I am is a Councilman and the head of the Robotics Institute. There would be a limit to what I could do for you.”

“I understand that, Dr. Amadiro. But within those limits could I not have something on account? Now?” He looked at Amadiro steadily.

Amadiro frowned at finding himself gazing into a pair of keen and unblinkingly determined eyes. No humility there!

Amadiro said coldly, “What do you have in mind?”

“Nothing you can’t give me, Dr. Amadiro. Make me a member of the Institute.”

“If you qualify—”

“No fear. I qualify.”

“We can’t leave that decision to the candidate. We have to—”

“Come, Dr. Amadiro, this is no way to begin a relationship. Since you’ve had me under observation every moment since I left you last, I can’t believe you haven’t studied my record thoroughly. As a result, you must know I qualify. If, for any reason, you felt I did not qualify, you would have no hope whatever that I would be ingenious enough to work out a plan for the destruction of our particular Carthage and I wouldn’t be back here at your call.”

For an instant, Amadiro felt a fire blaze within him. For that instant, he felt that even Earth’s destruction was not worth enduring this hectoring attitude from a child. But only for that instant. Then his sense of due proportion was back and he could even tell himself that a person so young, yet so bold and so icily sure of himself, was the kind of man he needed. Besides, he had studied Mandamus’s record and there was no question that he qualified for the Institute.

Amadiro said evenly (at some cost to his blood pressure), “You are right. You qualify.”

“Then enroll me. I’m sure you have the necessary forms in your computer. You have but to enter my name, my school, my year of graduation, and whatever other statistical trivia you require and then sign your own name.”

Without a word in reply, Amadiro turned to his computer. He entered the necessary information, retrieved the form, signed it, and handed it to Mandamus. “It is dated today. You are a fellow of the Institute.”

Mandamus studied the paper, then handed it to one of his robots, who placed it in a small portfolio which he then placed under his ann.

“Thank you,” said Mandamus, “it is most kind of you and I hope I will never fail you or cause you to regret this kind estimate you have given me of my abilities. That, however, leaves one more thing.”

“Indeed? What?”

“Might we discuss the nature of the final reward—in case of success only, of course. Total success.

“Might we not leave that, more logically, to the point where total success is achieved or is reasonably close to being achieved?”

“As a matter of rationality, yes. But I am a creature of dreams as well as of reason. I would like to dream a little.

“Well,” said Amadiro, “what is it you would like to dream?”

“It seems to me, Dr. Amadiro, that Dr. Fastolfe is now by no means well. He has lived long and cannot stave off death for many more years.”

“And if so?”

“Once he dies, your party will become more aggressive and the more lukewarm members of Fastolfe’s party will find it expedient to change allegiance, perhaps. The next election, without Fastolfe, will surely be yours.”

“It is possible. And if so?”

“You will become the de facto leader of the Council and the guide of Aurora’s foreign policy which would, in fact, mean the foreign policy of the Spacer worlds in general. And if my plans flourish, your direction will be so successful that the Council will scarcely fail to elect you Chairman at their earliest opportunity.”

“Your dreams soar, young man. And if all you foresee were to come true, what then?”

“You would scarcely have time to run Aurora and the Robotics Institute, too. So I ask that when you finally decide to resign from your present position as the head of the Institute, you be prepared to support me as your successor to the post. You could scarcely expect to have your personal choice rejected.”