Back at the railroad Jasperodus made a discovery: an engine and some trucks hidden in a culvert. By this means Craish had been able to travel at speed through Gordona, striking and withdrawing along the railroad. He had the crude train smashed, except for a couple of trucks which were added to his own stock, while the prisoners were loaded on board for the return journey.
Already on board were the captives that had been found in the bandits’ camp. They were mostly women, sitting quietly with heads downcast, remembering the ill-treatment they had received.
All business in Okrum ceased when they paraded the prisoners through the town. Jasperodus permitted Lieutenant Haver to march at the head of the column with him for appearance’s sake, but of the two it was the bronze-black robot who made the most striking spectacle, and who most enjoyed the acclaim of the crowd.
It had begun. He was on the way to becoming a master of men.
It was a signal honour indeed for a robot to be invited to banquet, and to sit at the King’s table with the nobles and notables of the realm. The other guests at first found it to be an object of great amusement and made fun of Jasperodus; but though he could not of course eat and drink, he soon made them change their attitude with the dominating excellence of his conversation, recounting how he and the Gordonian Guard had defeated Craish’s stronghold. In passing he expressed regret for the death of Captain Grue, who he skilfully managed to convey was a brave but unimaginative officer.
Having captured everyone’s attention, he went on to discourse upon how a military force for defending a small country should be constituted. ‘The Guard of the Realm should be small but disciplined to the utmost and trained to the optimum,’ he said. ‘It should be able within the hour to strike in any part of the kingdom. So besides the transport to achieve this there should also be good communications throughout the kingdom so that any attack or disturbance immediately becomes known in the capital. Now as to the commander of armed forces: he should be a man whose alertness never wanes and who knows how to keep an army in a constant state of tension. He should not be such a one as will sink into complacency, inattention to changing circumstances, or fleshly pleasures.
‘Finally, if the country has external enemies it is useful to train and arm the population to some extent, but the people should never be allowed to command as much fire-power as the army.’
A snort came from down the table. ‘One would think this metal construct himself coveted the post of commander.’
‘Did I say so?’ rejoindered Jasperodus sharply. ‘The Guard already has a commander of irreplaceable mettle.’ He inclined his head towards Commander Haurk, who sat fiddling with his goblet and frowning with some displeasure. ‘But since you raise the point, it would only be fair to point out that I possess all the qualities I have outlined, to a greater extent than any flesh-and-blood man. I do not sleep, day or night. My mind can be given unremittingly to my duties, oblivious of the diversions that a human being cannot forgo. Lastly, being a machine and not a man, I do not strive to acquire power for myself as do the commanders of some armies, as their sovereigns have found to their cost.’
A weighty silence followed his words. Jasperodus turned to King Zhorm. ‘Your Majesty, it is a slander to say that I aspire to such an exalted post. But may I again mention my desire for a commission as a subaltern?’
A roar of laughter greeted his words. A young man uncontrollably sprayed a mouthful of wine over the table. ‘What? A robot be an officer ?’
‘Why not?’ Jasperodus’ gaze went from face to face. He spoke with a passion which this time was genuine. ‘A soldier’s rôle is combat, is that not so? Test me, then. I challenge any of you to any contest that suits you, whether of skill, strength or cunning, whether of the body or of the mind – I undertake to defeat you all.’
‘I accept!’ came an animated voice from down the hall. ‘We shall be rivals: you must seek to seduce a certain maid I shall name!’
Jasperodus angrily ignored the howls of merriment that followed the challenge. ‘And if you think I cannot command the respect of subordinates,’ he said loudly, ‘then speak to those I led today!’
‘But this is ridiculous!’ someone protested. ‘To make an officer of a robot!’
King Zhorm the while was watching Jasperodus with his dreamy, barbaric eyes. ‘Enough!’ he interjected. ‘It is not ridiculous at all. I have heard of such things being done in lands to the East, where robots of great sophistication are available. By your amazement you merely display your bucolic ignorance.’
‘Well said, brother!’ Prince Okhramora spoke up, addressing the King with his usual over-familiarity. He wiped the grease from his face with a napkin. ‘These clods who surround us are indeed ignorance personified. But what of the prisoners? How are they to be disposed of?’
Zhorm replied sardonically, ‘Perhaps the robot Jasperodus has some ideas as to that, since he seems to have ideas on every other subject.’
Jasperodus and Prince Okhramora exchanged secret gratified glances.
Their relationship had developed much more favourably since their first unhappy encounter. Jasperodus, as if to make amends for his earlier indiscretion, had privately shown himself willing to perform small services for the Prince, who had come to look upon him as a useful ally. For that reason he was far from being opposed to Jasperodus’ advancement and was already apprised of the suggestion the robot was about to make.
‘While their crimes deserve instant death, it is sometimes a good principle to make use of such men instead of destroying them,’ Jasperodus said carefully. ‘Ruthlessness and bravado are not to be decried, provided they work for one and not against one. Now, many of Craish’s men are riff-raff and should be garotted without delay. But others would make good soldiers, given the right discipline. Craish himself is a man who turned to crime through recklessness rather than through any innate evil, and he possesses both courage and resourcefulness. He would surely submit to military service and swear allegiance to Your Majesty in return for his life.’
Zhorm scratched his chin, looking at Jasperodus askance. ‘Not the traditional way to deal with criminals.’
‘The populace need not be made aware of it,’ Jasperodus pointed out blandly. ‘An immediate advantage to be gained is that Craish must know the whereabouts of the other outlaw groups in the forest, and doubtless he could be persuaded to work towards their extermination with enthusiasm. Give me him and a few of his followers, and I will soon knock the rough edges off them, I assure you. And if they should prove intractable, why, they can be shot at any time.’
‘Dammit, this robot talks sense,’ voiced a middle-aged, heavily-jowled man in a quilted tabard. ‘We can be rid of these infestations for good and all.’
‘In a general sense, I also would tend to agree,’ Prince Okhramora said mildly.
‘I will think on the matter,’ King Zhorm announced. ‘But I have had enough of serious talk.’ He clapped his hands. ‘Bring on the entertainment!’
Musicians advanced into the hall, bowed, took their places, and were followed in by a troupe of dancing girls. Deep in thought, Jasperodus watched idly. As soon as he could do so without giving offence he slipped away, leaving the scene of merriment behind.
He went through the palace and across an open courtyard to the barracks. Beneath them, deep in the earth, were some ancient dungeons, built of stone that had become damp and mildewed and smelling of decay. Descending the worn steps, Jasperodus heard the disconsolate murmurs of the prisoners who were crammed into a few dank cells. He went on past them, however, and down a passage to the cell reserved for Craish alone, where he prevailed upon the guard to unfasten the bolts.
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