But if what she said was true, and he did not come forth, Citizen Blue could lose his match by default. Probably the Citizens had selected Troubot in part because of this. They hoped that Troubot would not trust the summons, and so would serve their objective.
Troubot did not have feelings in the living sense, but he was a sophisticated self-willed machine who could react emotionally when applicable circuits were set up and invoked. In the course of his association with Nepe, he had set up such circuits, and felt a reasonable facsimile of friendship for her, and loyalty to the principles she had adopted. Thus there was an emotional component involved, which he could cut out, but only at the cost of his feeling for Nepe. He did not like to do that, because his feeling toward Nepe was the only thing that really distinguished him from an ordinary self-willed machine. He knew that if he voided that circuit, he would be unlikely to re-invoke it later, because his nature would be changed; he simply would not care any more. It would be like death in a living creature. So he retained the circuit—and so he suffered now this agony of indecision. He knew he wanted to help Nepe and her grandfather Blue; he did not know in what way he best could do that. Should he believe Merle, or doubt her?
He lacked the circuitry to resolve such a conflict. He was not, after all, the Oracle, whose nature was more sophisticated than that of any other machine. He was not even similar to Sheen, or Mach; he was just an ordinary self-willed robot who had been influenced by long and close association with a living alien child who understood robots because her father was one. Perhaps that had made him unusual among machines, but it did not provide him with superior intellectual competence. He had modified his body and his emotion, but his intellect was locked in to what it had been at the start. He had been smart at the start—too smart, for a machine, and therefore out of tolerance—but he had never been able to approach Nepe’s level.
So he waited, doing nothing. He let his components separate, and reverted to the lesser state that was not the sum of his parts. As six units he was conscious, but unable to utilize his full mental capacity; too much of it had been distributed to the others, to make them separately functional. As Heningway, he possessed the main awareness, and could make decisions, but was hesitant to without being able to draw on his full complement. He pecked up a seed, which he could not digest, biding his time.
Soon Merle returned. “Well, chickens,” she said brightly. “I have just called Blue, and prevailed on him to appear here within the hour, alone. Would you like me to enable you to witness my bit of sport with him?”
Troubot tried to reason whether he should make a response. If she did not know his nature, he did not want to give it away, but his brief mergence with his other parts had enabled him to think more comprehensively, and he had concluded that she did know; therefore there was no point in hiding from her. He did want to see Citizen Blue, because he understood that that was a man he could trust and possibly find sanctuary with. So he should make a positive response; that seemed clear enough.
He stepped forward, making one cluck.
“Well, now, Heningway! You are becoming positively literary!” she exclaimed, pleased. In the course of his researches he had encountered a name that resembled the one she had bestowed on this hen; perhaps she was making a pun. “Very well, I shall do it. He will be here within the half hour; I shall go change, and a servitor will install appropriate furniture here.” She looked sternly at the hens. “Do not drop anything untoward on it!”
She exited. In a moment a rolling transport brought in a couch that looked much like a bed. Then the machine set up a baffle that consisted of a curtain, so that the couch was concealed from the view of the main coop.
Troubot reassembled his units, touching beaks, so he could ponder this development. It seemed obvious that Merle intended to seduce Citizen Blue in exchange for the information about Troubot’s location. Was this proper? He doubted it, but was not certain of his proper response. He knew that if he were alive, he would resent being used this way; as it was, he merely noted it, and disbanded, making no decision.
As scheduled, Merle returned, wearing a voluminous mock-fur coat, escorting Citizen Blue, who was in his usual blue cloak. She turned to close and secure the door behind them. “There—now we are secure,” she said. “This is the only chamber where I am assured that no monitors are active; no one can eavesdrop on us here except my flock of chickens, and they really do not pass judgments.”
Blue ignored the hens. “Merle, thou didst say thou hadst something important for me.”
“Indeed I do,” she said. “You may remember our tryst of some years back. I have a hunger for something similar.”
He frowned. “I be married now.”
“To a machine.”
“Aye. But still married. Thou knowest how I feel about this matter. I have problems enough without—”
“I love it when you talk Phazish!”
Blue paused. “I revert to it unconsciously when under stress. I apologize. Now I assume you did not call me here to waste my time and yours. What do you really have on your mind?”
Merle opened her coat, then slid out of it. She was nude beneath, of course. “I just told you, Blue.”
“Impossible!” he snapped.
“By no means, my bantam lover. See, I have prepared.” She drew the curtain, revealing the couch.
“What makes you think I would indulge you at this time?” he asked, openly irritated.
“Suppose I were to say that I had information you very much wanted, for a price?”
“The only information I want is—” He paused. “You know—?”
“Where Troubot is. Yes, I believe I do, bantam. And I might even tell you. Would that information be worth the price?”
Now he hesitated. “I would have to ask my wife.”
“I shall be happy to query her for you, Blue. I am sure she will understand. She did before.”
He reconsidered. “That will not be necessary. Merle, are you saying you have this information, or are you teasing me?”
“I am doing both, dear boy. Join me on the couch, and in due course I will tell you.”
“Damn thee!” he swore. “To put such a price on such a need!”
Merle sighed. “Now I have made him angry, and that spoils the mood. Very well, I will postpone my satisfaction. I will give you Troubot, and you will be the judge of the nature and the timing of my reward. I believe that is more than fair; don’t you agree?”
“Damn thee!” he repeated.
Merle turned to face the hens. “As you can see, this is definitely Citizen Blue. Any lesser man would have taken my offering and damned with the price. Show yourself.”
Troubot, as Heningway, stepped forward. He clucked to the others, and they joined him.
Citizen Blue stared. “The chickens?”
“A most effective ruse, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’m not sure I believe this! How could he be in six living parts?”
“Six parts yes, living no. That is pseudoflesh. Take him and verify him; you will discover him to be a single self-willed robot.”
Blue began to believe. “I never thought to check for something like this, and neither did the Citizens. It just could be! But I’m not sure I can distinguish one self-willed machine from another; this could be a plant by the Citizens.”
“That had occurred to me,” she said. “Therefore we must take the next step with suitable dispatch. We must bring in the one person who can identify Troubot without doubt.”
“That can only be Nepe! But she be captive o’ the enemy!”
“So we deal with the enemy. They have a similar interest, after all; what is to stop us from planting our own imitation, a machine designed to be a likely winner in a Game?”
“Mine honor!” he flared.
“But the Contrary Citizens hardly believe in honor. They will distrust yours, without reason, and mine, with reason. They must be assured of Troubot’s identity too. So call them; they will bring her
here.”
Citizen Blue considered, and nodded. “Thou be earning thy keep,” he said.
“I always do. I only regret that it requires such a situation to entice you to do what any other man would do without price.”
Now he laughed. “It were a good night, that one! Methought the dawn would ne’er come!”
“I delayed it by retiming the lights.”
He stared at her, then shook his head. “Mind thee, my wife will have thy head for this!”
“Make the call; time is short.”
“Aye.” He opened the door and stepped out, while she picked up her coat and put it on. Then she sat in the couch and waited.
“You see, chickens, there is more than just coming forward,” she said. “You have to be verified. This is the only way to do it. I do have your best interest at heart, and I trust you will do what needs to be done. If you fail to convince Nepe, all is lost. Make sure you appreciate that.”
Troubot appreciated it. Merle was more of a person than he had credited. Again he understood that the intricacies of human logic and action went beyond his own capacities.
Later that afternoon a second party arrived: Merle, Blue, Citizen Translucent and Nepe. The contrast between the two men was sharp. Translucent was large and stout in his almost transparent robe, while Blue was so small in his blue robe as to seem childlike; Nepe looked more like his sister than his granddaughter. This was a parlay under truce between those who could be trusted; Translucent was the only one of the Contrary Citizens with a sufficient sense of honor.
Translucent and Blue sat on the couch, and Nepe sat on her grandfather’s lap and hugged him. She knew she would have to return to captivity with Translucent; this was her only chance to visit with the one who by appearances meant more to her than her father. Troubot knew that Blue had not expected issue from a man in the body of a robot with an alien creature, yet it had happened, and Blue had taken the child to his heart at the outset. He had also used her as a tool against the Contrary Citizens, but with her full consent. Nepe had told Troubot everything, needing a confidant in her isolation, and in the process he had become more human than could otherwise have been the case.
“Now that we are private, here is the situation,” Merle said. “The Contrary Citizens have chosen the self-willed robot servitor identified as Troubot to represent Citizen Blue in the second contest of three, to decide who shall have ultimate power in the frame. But Troubot is in hiding, and Blue will have to default if Troubot is not found in time. Only one person can identify this machine, and that person is Nepe, who is his friend.” Merle looked at the child. “Nepe, do you understand that you must speak the truth and only the truth in this matter?”
“I do,” Nepe said.
Merle glanced at the two men. “Do each of you accept her veracity in this?”
Each man nodded.
Merle spoke to Nepe again. “Then I ask you, Nepe: do you see your friend Troubot here?”
“Here?” Nepe asked, startled. “I thought we were going to go find him!”
“We may be. Please answer the question.”
“But there’s no one here but—” Her eyes fell on the hens, and went abruptly round. “Gosh! It is!” She jumped down and ran to the little flock. She plumped down on the ground and opened her arms, trying to hug all the hens at once. “How clever of you, Troubot! You even had me fooled!”
“But how can you be sure?” Merle asked.
“He’s my friend! I’d know him anywhere, if I looked.”
Merle smiled. “You must pardon those of us who lack your ability. How can we be sure?”
Nepe considered. “We have a secret code that only the two of us know. Let me tell it to you, and he will respond to you only when you use it.”
“Fair enough,” Merle said.
Nepe got up, went to the woman, and whispered something. Then Merle spoke to the two men, who had remained passive. “Agree among yourselves when I should give the code, and see whether the response is there.”
Translucent shrugged, and brought out a stylus and pad. He wrote something, then tore off the sheet and passed it to Merle. Blue brought out a similar pad and made a note, also passing it to Merle. She looked at each, then folded them, smiling. “Each of you has written a number, and the one modifies the other. I shall use the result, which neither of you know.”
She faced the hens. “Troubot, here is the code: three, fifteen, one.”
Troubot did not respond. The code was numeric, but she had the wrong numbers.
“Troubot,” she said again, “here is the code: nine, twenty-nine, ninety-nine.”
Again he did not respond.
“Troubot, here is the code: four, four, four to the fourth power, forever four.”
That was it: Nepe’s age when they had met, formed into a cherished memory. Heningway clucked, and the others came together to huddle. They formed their pattern in front of Merle, all beaks touching.
“We seem to have a response,” Merle said. “Is it the right time?”
“I wrote the number six,” Translucent said.
“I divided by two,” Blue said.
“Indeed you did,” Merle agreed. “And six divided by two is three; I gave the code the third time. This test may have been crude, but seems indicative. Are we satisfied?”
They looked at the flock, which was clustered around Nepe again. They were satisfied.
Troubot assembled himself, removing the fleshly vestments and becoming a single entity again. Now he could function fully. They took down his stats: the part numbers of his components and the electrical pattern of his brain circuitry, so there could be no subsequent confusion about his identity. Then Translucent and Nepe left, and Citizen Blue took Troubot with him. Merle was left to recover her hens from the quarantine chamber.
It was good being legitimate again, the doubt gone. But now he had a new responsibility: to represent Citizen Blue in a contest that was already partly lost. If he lost the game, Blue was done for. Troubot had never before played a Game, though he was familiar with its rules. He understood that his opponent Tsetse had not played either, but still it seemed doubtful. The match-up was too odd, for stakes too high.
Citizen Blue gave him access to the information net, and he spent the night reviewing strategies of the grid, and checking the course of past games. He was as ready as he could be, considering that he had not been designed for this endeavor.
Tsetse entered the chamber after Troubot had taken his place at the console. He was a machine, but he had learned to catalogue living folk according to their physical esthetics by human definition, and she was what was best described as luscious. He had of course researched her stats, and learned that she was of average intelligence and creativity and personality, and below average in motivation; only her outstanding body displaced her from the ordinary. He would do well to engage her in a mental game, where he should have an advantage. But she would seek to avoid this, being property coached. In fact, she might well seek to avoid all games of skill, and go for CHANCE, making the issue random. This might indeed be the Citizens’ best strategy; if they won, they won everything, while if they lost, they would still be even.
He had the letters. That meant he could not put it into the MENTAL arena. He was already a machine, so would have less advantage than she by drawing on the powers of a machine; the same went for tools. The animal category had potential complications he preferred to avoid. This being the case, he went for the simplest: NAKED.
To his relief, she too selected the simplest: PHYSICAL. It would be just the two of them, with their own unaugmented abilities.
For the secondary grid he had the numbers. Again he chose the simplest: SEPARATE. That meant that they would do, essentially, their own things, not being dependent on each other. A foot race was separate, while a game of tag was interactive. Of course she could get him in trouble by her choice of surface: if she chose a water contest, he would have difficulty. He could modify his body to move in water, bu
t this might not be permitted. She, in contrast, had a body that seemed designed by nature for swimming. However, he had found no reference to swimming in her record, and hoped that she was of the type who went to the water only for appearances.
She chose Variable Surface, again to his relief. He might have to navigate a slope, but that was easier than dealing with water. He would try to line up good options, and hope for the best on the tertiary grid.
She made the first placement, and Sand Dunes appeared in the center. Sand was another prospect he did not relish; his wheels would lose traction in it.
He put Maze Path in the top row, center. That brought a mental element into it, giving him the advantage.
She put Snow Bank in the upper left corner. There was another problem for him: snow. She had been well enough rehearsed, and was playing correctly.
He countered with Limestone Cliff in the lower right corner. He could project points to grip the rock and climb well enough, while she should have more trouble.
She put Glass Mountain in the upper right corner. That was mixed, for him; the glass would be too hard for his points, but his wheels could get traction when it was dry.
He put Tight Rope in the left column, down one. As a machine, he could achieve almost perfect balance, and his wheels could remain firm on the rope, while the woman might become highly unstable.