Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
_You will possibly shudder, but you will certainly remember for a
long time, this story of what happens when Tomorrow's gently
implacable teachers are faced with a problem for which there seems
to be only one solution...._
there
will
be
school
tomorrow
_by ... V. E. Thiessen_
There is a quiet horror to
this story from Tomorrow....
Evening had begun to fall. In the cities the clamor softened along the
streets, and the women made small, comfortable, rattling noises in the
kitchens. Out in the country the cicadas started their singing, and the
cool smell began to rise out of the earth. But everywhere, in the cities
and in the country, the children were late from school.
There were a few calls, but the robotic telephone devices at the schools
gave back the standard answer: "The schools are closed for the day. If
you will leave a message it will be recorded for tomorrow."
The telephones between houses began to ring. "Is Johnny home from school
yet?"
"No. Is Jane?"
"Not yet. I wonder what can be keeping them?"
"Something new, I guess. Oh, well, the roboteachers know best. They will
be home soon."
"Yes, of course. It's foolish to worry."
The children did not come.
After a time a few cars were driven to the schools. They were met by the
robots. The worried parents were escorted inside. But the children did
not come home.
And then, just as alarm was beginning to stir all over the land, the
robots came walking, all of the robots from the grade schools, and the
high schools, and the colleges. All of the school system walking, with
the roboteachers saying, "Let us go into the house where you can sit
down." All over the streets of the cities and the walks in the country
the robots were entering houses.
"What's happened to my children?"
"If you will go inside and sit down--"
"What's happened to my children? Tell me now!"
"If you will go inside and sit down--"
Steel and electrons and wires and robotic brains were inflexible. How
can you force steel to speak? All over the land the people went inside
and sat nervously waiting an explanation.
There was no one out on the streets. From inside the houses came the
sound of surprise and agony. After a time there was silence. The robots
came out of the houses and went walking back to the schools. In the
cities and in the country there was the strange and sudden silence of
tragedy.
The children did not come home.
* * * * *
The morning before the robots walked, Johnny Malone, the Mayor's son,
bounced out of bed with a burst of energy. Skinning out of his pajamas
and into a pair of trousers, he hurried, barefooted, into his mother's
bedroom. She was sleeping soundly, and he touched one shoulder
hesitantly.
"Mother!"
The sleeping figure stirred. His mother's face, still faintly shiny with
hormone cream, turned toward him. She opened her eyes. Her voice was
irritated.
"What is it, Johnny?"
"Today's the day, mommy. Remember?"
"The day?" Eyebrows raised.
"The new school opens. Now we'll have roboteachers like everyone else.
Will you fix my breakfast, mother?"
"Amelia will fix you something."
"Aw, mother. Amelia's just a robot. This is a special day. And I want my
daddy to help me with my arithmetic before I go. I don't want the
roboteacher to think I'm dumb."
His mother frowned in deepening irritation. "Now, there's no reason why
Amelia can't get your breakfast like she always does. And I doubt if it
would be wise to wake your father. You know he likes to sleep in the
morning. Now, you go on out of here and let me sleep."
Johnny Malone turned away, fighting himself for a moment, for he knew he
was too big to cry. He walked more slowly now and entered his father's
room. He had to shake his father to awaken him.
"Daddy! Wake up, daddy!"
"What in the devil? Oh, Johnny." His father's eyes were sleepily bleak.
"What in thunder do you want?"
"Today's the first day of roboteachers. I can't work my arithmetic.
Will you help me before I go to school?"
His father stared at him in amazement. "Just what in the devil do you
think roboteachers are for? They're supposed to teach you. If you knew
arithmetic we wouldn't need roboteachers."
"But the roboteachers may be angry if I don't have my lesson."
Johnny Malone's father turned on one elbow. "Listen, son," he said. "If
those roboteachers give you any trouble you just tell them you're the
Mayor's son. See. Now get the devil out of here. What's her name--that
servorobot--Amelia will get your breakfast and get you off to school.
Now suppose you beat it out of here and let me go back to sleep."
"Yes, Sir." Eyes smarting, Johnny Malone went down the stairs to the
kitchen. It wasn't that his parents were different. All the kids were
fed and sent to school by robots. It was just that--well today seemed
sort of special. Downstairs Amelia, the roboservant, placed hot cereal
on the table before him. After he had forced a few bites past the
tightness in his throat, Amelia checked the temperature and his clothing
and let him out the door. The newest school was only a few blocks from
his home, and Johnny could walk to school.
* * * * *
The newest school stood on the edge of this large, middlewestern city.
Off to the back of the school were the towers of the town, great
monolithic skyscrapers of pre-stressed concrete and plastic. To the
front of the school the plains stretched out to meet a cloudy horizon.
A helio car swung down in front of the school. Two men and a woman got
out.
"This is it, Senator." Doctor Wilson, the speaker, was with the
government bureau of schools. He lifted his arm and gestured, a lean,
tweed-suited man.
The second man, addressed as Senator, was bulkier, grey suited and
pompous. He turned to the woman with professional deference.
"This is the last one, my dear. This is what Doctor Wilson calls the
greatest milestone in man's education."
"With the establishing of this school the last human teacher is gone.
Gone are all the human weaknesses, the temper fits of teachers, their
ignorance and prejudices. The roboteachers are without flaw."
The woman lifted a lorgnette to her eyes. "_Haow_ interesting. But after
all, we've had roboteachers for years, haven't we--or have we--?" She
made a vague gesture toward the school, and looked at the brown-suited
man.
"Yes, of course. Years ago your women's clubs fought against
roboteachers. That was before they were proven."
"I seem to recall something of that. Oh well, it doesn't matter." The
lorgnette gestured idly.
"Shall we go in?" the lean man urged.
The woman hesitated. Senator said tactfully, "After all, Doctor Wilson
would like you to see his project."
The brown-suited man nodded. His face took on a sharp intensity. "We're
making a great mistake. No one is interested in educating the children
any more. They leave it to the robots. And they neglect the children's
training at home."
The woman turned toward him with surprise in her eyes. "But really,
aren't the robots the best teachers?"
"Of course they are. But confound it, we ought to be interested in what
they teach and how they teach. What's happened to the old PTA? What's
happened to parental discipline, what's happened to--"
He stopped suddenly and smiled, a rueful tired smile. "I suppose I'm a
fanatic on this. Come on inside."
They passed through an antiseptic corridor built from dull green
plastic. The brown-suited man pressed a button outside one of the
classrooms. A door slid noiselessly into the hall. A robot stood before
them, gesturing gently. They followed the robot into the classroom. At
the head of the classroom another robot was lecturing. There were
drawings on a sort of plastic blackboard. There were wire models on the
desk in front of the robot. They listened for a moment, and for a moment
it seemed that the woman could be intrigued in spite of herself.
"Mathematics," Doctor Wilson murmured in her ear. "Euclidean Geometry
and Aristotelean reasoning. We start them young on these old schools of
thought, then use Aristotle and Euclid as a point of departure for our
intermediate classes in mathematics and logic."
"REAHLLY!" The lorgnette studied Doctor Wilson. "You mean there are
several kinds of geometry?"
Doctor Wilson nodded. A dull flush crept into his cheeks. The Senator
caught his eyes and winked. The woman moved toward the door. At the door
the robot bowed.
The lorgnette waved in appreciation. "It's reahlly been most charming!"
Wilson said desperately, "If your women's clubs would just visit our
schools and see this work we are carrying on ..."
"Reahlly, I'm sure the robots are doing a marvelous job. After all,
that's what they were built for."
Wilson called, "Socrates! Come here!" The robot approached from his
position outside the classroom door.
"Why were you built, Socrates? Tell the lady why you were built."
A metal throat cleared, a metal voice said resonantly, "We were made to
serve the children. The children are the heart of a society. As the
children are raised, so will the future be assured. I will do everything
for the children's good, this is my prime law. All other laws are
secondary to the children's good."
"Thank you, Socrates. You may go."
Metal footsteps retreated. The lorgnette waved again. "Very impressive.
Very efficient. And now, Senator, if we can go. We are to have tea at
the women's club. Varden is reviewing his newest musical comedy."