Barrington Bayley - Barrington Bayley SF Gateway Omnibus - The Soul of the Robot, The Knights of the Limits, The Fall of Chronopolis

A forceful, strong personality, Jasperodus decided. But not one he would trust.

Oleander came to a stop and swept his cloak behind him while bowing low. ‘May we crave a few moments, sire?’

‘You may, Ax, you may,’ said Charrane indifferently, and he began signing the documents which Oleander, while keeping up a babble of explanations, took one by one from his clerks.

Charrane stopped on coming to one folio. ‘What is this?’ he demanded with displeasure, staring at the double sheet. He thrust it back at Oleander. ‘Have it paraphrased first.’

The vizier glared horrified at the folio and the veins stood out on his face. ‘It should have been done!’ he remonstrated, and he turned to give one of the clerks a clout.

Having glimpsed the sheet, Jasperodus understood. Like other leaders in history who had tried to reconstitute a shattered society, Charrane was illiterate. He was able to read only lettered script, and not the symbolic logic which in the Old Empire had been taught to every citizen, and which even now marked off the literate minority. This detail gave Jasperodus something of an insight into Charrane’s origins and character.

The remaining documents were quickly disposed of and taken away by the clerks. Charrane turned again to Jasperodus. ‘Now, what were we talking about?’

‘The current state of the Empire, sire. I was urging a withdrawal from Mars.’

Ax Oleander spoke in a murmuring voice. ‘Have a care, you iron hulk. You are but one step from the junkyard.’

Charrane looked from one to the other, his eyes crafty. Then he uttered a humourless laugh.

‘Hold your rancour, Ax. I am aware that since the plan was mine , no one has yet had the nerve to tell me it was a miscalculation.’ Leisurely he ascended to the throne, then beckoned Jasperodus closer. ‘Your outspokenness pleases me, robot. It is plain that you are a machine of unusual qualities, and I have great need of talent.’ He shrugged contemptuously. ‘Half the men in my service have less wit than a Class One automatic road-mender. So you may consider yourself appropriated to my staff.’

Jasperodus became inwardly exultant. He was delighted by Charrane’s obvious friendliness towards him. ‘And what will my duties be, sire?’

‘It seems you have an interest in strategy – we will attach you to the planning staff, as an assistant to see how you go.’

‘This is swift promotion indeed, sire,’ Jasperodus reflected.

Charrane’s lip curled. ‘For once you have your machine status to thank. A man would not walk into my entourage so easily – but a machine, after all, is something to be applied wherever appropriate. Besides, I have found robots particularly useful in the planning sphere. They attend unremittingly to the task in hand. All too often the efforts of men are attenuated by distraction or self-interest.’ He leaned towards Jasperodus. ‘But mind, entertain no such treacheries as you practised upon the King of Gordona.’

‘Nothing is further from my mind,’ Jasperodus disavowed. ‘Theft, of whatever variety, is the crudest of achievements. I see that clearly now. My desire is to construct, to help build, not to destroy.’

‘And what of your other ambition?’ Charrane asked softly, as if teasing him. ‘The attainment of consciousness?’

‘It seems I must forgo that also,’ Jasperodus answered in a hollow voice. ‘Clearly it is impossible. Yet, by my deeds, I may still prove myself the equal of any man.’

‘I wish you luck,’ Charrane said lightly. He appeared to consider Jasperodus’ existential dilemma something of a joke. ‘Go now. Oleander here will see to your induction.’

Oleander turned to Jasperodus without enthusiasm. ‘Take yourself through the main door and present yourself to the housemen,’ he instructed offhandedly. ‘They will take care of you.’

Making a farewell bow, Jasperodus took his leave. While marching the length of the basilica he tuned up his hearing. He heard Ax Oleander saying in a low tone to Charrane: ‘The Borgor Alliance has infiltrated robot spies into the palace before, sire…’

But he ignored this attempt at back-stabbing. He sensed the pulse of the city around him, and beyond that the beating heart of the growing Empire. In no way had he tried to deceive the Emperor, and every word he had spoken represented his true thoughts. He felt that the real adventure of his life was about to begin.

On his third sitting as a full member of the Military Council, seven years later, Jasperodus had to stare down a certain amount of opposition. As the first robot to occupy so august a station he had, naturally, been obliged to contend with a degree of resentment from the beginning. He had usually countered that with a mixture of charm and bluntness.

Today, however, it was bruited abroad that on the retirement of Marshal Hazzany the Emperor intended to appoint Jasperodus Marshal-in-Chief of the entire Imperial Forces, which would rank him second only to the Supreme Commander – namely the Emperor – himself. It was understandable that for some of the officers present this was almost too much. Not only was Jasperodus their natural inferior – not, indeed, even a citizen – but he was a newcomer to the Military Council and almost a newcomer to the strategic team. The marshals who sat with Jasperodus, several of them venerable, had been soldiers all their lives. Men had to wait patiently for advancement, but Jasperodus, unerringly and with cool aplomb, stepped into every opening.

Unembarrassed by his successes, Jasperodus had continued to produce innovation after innovation, scheme after scheme. All had to admit that he had transformed the situation – though, at the time, many had argued against the measures he had introduced to do it. He retained control of the strategic planning staff – an office it had taken him two years to gain and which, even if the promotion to Marshal-in-Chief should be forthcoming, he had no intention of relinquishing – and, in addition to all this, he was now one of the Emperor’s close circle of viziers.

On this occasion the Emperor did not attend the council meeting, as he sometimes did, because he had already discussed its business with Jasperodus. Afterwards Jasperodus would acquaint him with the Council’s view of the matter.

‘What is the reason for this chopping and changing of policy?’ grumbled Marshal Grixod. ‘Only a few years ago you urged our withdrawal from Mars.’ He threw up his hands. ‘What a business! The loss of face was awful. God knows how the Emperor ever agreed to it. And now you want us to go back to Mars.’

‘I have never said that we should not add Mars to the Empire,’ Jasperodus responded, remembering with what pain Charrane had been forced to see the irrevocability of his reasoning. ‘Only that the time was wrong. Today our situation has improved. The Empire controls one half of Worldmass. The Borgor Alliance has been dealt a blow which has put it on the defensive. Furthermore, the new invasion scheme devised by the planning staff carries crucial advantages over the previous method. The time has therefore come for the decisive conquest of Mars, and once taken, the red planet will be our springboard for the occupation of the moons of Jupiter.’

The invasion plan, like much else lately, was Jasperodus’ own idea. Instead of launching a series of space squadrons in the normal manner, involving all kinds of organisational and logistical problems, he proposed to build three huge ‘invasion drums’ which would orbit themselves around the target planet and be self-sustaining for anything up to five years. The plan called for a force of seventy thousand men, all of whom would be transported aboard the shuttles in one go. Thus the campaign could not be impeded by attacks on supply ships sent from Earth, and Jasperodus believed that, backed up by these orbiting forts, the troops on the ground (more accurately in the Martian rills and fissures) would prove themselves invincible. If work began now, the shuttles could be sent on their way in about four years.