John Sladek: The Complete Roderick

‘Yes now I believe we have located Mr Franklin in his car in the parking lot, evidently he’s pretty excited about this test so far, you can see the theoretical test on your screen now, he’s pretty excited, seems to be driving around in circles and honking his horn, that right, Nancy? Shouting what? “That’s the way to do it!” Well it certainly is, the people here at ground control are happy too so far this test is looking good, looking good, we’ll try to get hold of Mr Ben Franklin himself, maybe get his reaction to the test but now maybe we’re ready with a shot of the robot pilot in operation, that ready? Yes, here’s what you’ve all been waiting for …’

The figure at the controls might have been mistaken for that of a robot at a distance, but the face was without doubt the face of Ben Franklin, his the ragged beard, his the pale expressionless eyes and mad grin.

A bored voice from ground control said, ‘Looks like you have a little temperature buildup there, Mr Punch, can you confirm that incremental?’

‘Ffffffffff’

‘Say again? Can you confirm that temperature incremental in the cabin temperature?’

‘Shhhhhhhhh?’ came from the shuttle, as the camera vibrated and the bright face leaped and danced on the screen.

‘… will praise thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works and that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiosly wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance fffffffffff and in thy book all my members are written, which in shhhhhhhhhhh were fashioned when as yet there was none of them.’

In the ground control centre an argument took over the sound, many muffled and hysterical voices competing for the single ear.

‘What’s he saying? What’s he—?’

‘…Franklin I’m telling you that’s Franklin up there…’

‘…alert on that increment we’ll be seeing smoke in…’

‘Don’t be stupid, Nancy says he’s down in the parking…’

‘‘The Bible or …?’

‘Okay then who’s in the damn car?’

‘Temperature incremental is getting — look!’

‘Oh my God!’

‘Oh!’

The screen showed an instant of Ben Franklin’s face, the eyes reflecting the sheet of flame before it swept over him and the transmission ended.

After a moment the chairman shrugged. ‘Well we mustn’t dwell on that, there’s too much to get through here. And I understand we’ve just had word from KUR that in fact Franklin was fired a week ago. Well. I suggest we take a short break here before we tackle the next item.’

A reptilian jaw near Roderick gave out a dry chuckle. ‘Dear me, I suppose young Mr Wood here must think it’s all as exciting as a TV car chase every day around here. Let me assure you, Mr Wood, nothing could be further from the truth. Most of our meetings engage the intellect, not the endocrine system.’

‘Lucky thing,’ said another. ‘Some of us are old enough to find any stimulation a risk not worth taking, heh heh. The grave beckons.’

‘Or the fishtank,’ said the first jaw. ‘One might seek salvation in the Leo Bunsky aquarium, eh?’

‘Ugly, ugly. I put my trust in the resurrection of the body.’

‘Religion?’

‘Of course not, I mean freeze-drying.’

‘But you must grant that, for all poor Leo’s ugliness, he has at least brought us out of the wilderness of hunting entities. Mr Wood would be thankful for that, I’m sure,’

‘Precisely. All the unsavoury operations we had to initiate. Why, even when hunting Mr Wood here, didn’t we—?’

‘Perhaps Mr Wood doesn’t want to hear—’

‘Oh I do,’ said Roderick. ‘How did you hunt me?’

‘We used these incompetent men from the Agency, mostly. I suppose the worst was that business with the Roxy theatre. Imagine burning down a whole movie house just to kill one robot. And then they bungled it.’

Roderick said, ‘Wait a minute. To destroy me, you were actually willing to burn up a whole theatre full of people?’

‘Well of course you have to see this in an historical perspective, balancing a few hundred lives against — as we saw it — the survival of the human species. Not that we’d have authorized it specifically.’

‘Indeed not,’ said the other. ‘Too inefficient, no finesse. Those Agency men were always ham-handed, let’s not forget the incident of the red stocking-cap.’

Roderick asked what red stocking-cap.

‘Don’t you remember? You were supposed to be wearing it at the Tik Tok Bar, but you cunningly planted it on some old derelict — another life lost, I fear.’

‘Still, Wood, you were a most excellent quarry. Much too good for those yahoos from the Agency.’

‘Have I got this straight?’ Roderick asked. ‘You really murdered innocent people, just to destroy me?’

‘Heh heh, well of course you weren’t the only target. We had to make extensive use of Agency men and even one or two private hit-men, my word yes.’

‘What are you saying? You just went out and, and butchered people right and left?’ Roderick’s voice was loud now, and everyone in the room had turned to stare. ‘Butchered people right and left, just for some principle — some policy — you could reverse anyway whenever you felt like it — you could—’

‘Ah well, aren’t policy and principle so often confused, in these troubled times? But to say we butchered people right and left is both emotive and inaccurate. We were normally quite selective; those we asked the Agency to “finalize” as we liked to call it, were the inventors of dangerous Entities. Had we let them live, they’d go on making trouble for humanity.’

‘Within our framework for speculation, there was nothing else we could do,’ said the chairman, laying his hands on the table. ‘We were in a zero-option scenario.’

‘Precisely. Precisely. Precisely.’

Roderick had reached the door when the chairman said, ‘Leaving? That’s unwise, Mr Wood. Without our protection, you’ll automatically become the property of KUR International. They’ll probably take your head to pieces.’

‘Suits me.’

Just take a seat, Mr Wood is it? I’ll see if somebody can, excuse me… Good morning, KUR Innernational… Mr Swann? One moment… Ginny, there’s a Dr Welby on three to talk to a Mr Swann, is he in your office? No? Then he must be Patsy’s new boss or, everything’s in such a mess around here today, oh is he legal? Great… Lois have you got a Mr Swann? I have a Dr Welby for him on three… Good morning, KUR Innernational… Yes there is but I don’t know when, I can put you through to the press office…’

Roderick sat down with a group of reporters: tired-looking men and women in waterproof coats, some with aerials sticking up from the backs of their necks, some fiddling with cameras or pocket memo machines, some sleeping.

‘You covering this too?’ someone said, and when Roderick did not reply, went on: ‘I drew the short straw, I wanted to cover that management consultant mass murder story, sounds like some juicy stuff there, cops say the guy’s been doing it for years, cutting women’s legs off.’

‘Juicy stuff? Is that what you call it?’

‘Well sure, easy to get a handle on a story like that, you got sex, big business, police incompetence, a sadistic fiend, that’s all prime stuff, you automatically get first or second slot in the six o’clock. Whereas this Moxon takeover is not exactly a surprise, is it?’

‘Takeover?’ said Roderick, surprised.