CHAPTER VII

"I found it, Johnny! It was so obvious, it seems incredible no one has

tried to end the Robot's reign before. We can do it. One man could do

it, alone. One man, with careful planning--"

"Diane is here, Amos. I saw her tonight. We're going to try to break

out tomorrow night, the three of us."

"You see," Westler went on, "there are two items of importance to

consider. The first is Central Intelligence, the mind, the _elan

vital_, the sentience which motivates the Robots. Did you know, could

you ever imagine, that there was but one Central Intelligence for the

entire western hemisphere, Johnny? It seems incredible, but it is not.

That was the Achilles Heel we sought, the seed of destruction which

some pessimistic scientist had sown into the Robots in case man had

created a Frankenstein."

"Can you believe it? Tomorrow night, the three of us will be on our way

out of here. I think we stand a good chance, Amos. If we--"

"The second item--why, what in the world are you talking about? Escape?

Now? Never! Within our grasp is the chance to free humanity from a

thraldom which it does not yet fully recognize. Would you give up the

chance to render the Robots harmless in exchange for your own personal

safety?"

"Not mine. Diane's. We love each other, Amos. I wouldn't expose her to

any danger. We're leaving tomorrow and we want you to come with us."

Westler paced back and forth, caged in spirit more than in body. "Look

at you," he said bitterly. "You call yourself a man. But have you the

right to a woman's love when you think only of tomorrow, of one day out

of thousands, of one small life out of all that humanity has to offer?

You want to hold the girl and kiss her and show her your virility, eh?

While the rest of the race goes to pot."

"That's enough, Amos!" Johnny cried. "My motives are my own. We leave

here tomorrow."

"You're weak, Johnny Hope. You're a coward."

Johnny said, "Shut up, damn you." He couldn't deny all that Amos was

saying, but his parents had perished at the hands of a man-made Plague,

he had been driven from his home, rejected by the Shining Ones, even,

until he proved himself in battle. What did he owe to humanity, to that

big, sprawling concept which took in all kinds of men and their women,

children, good people, bad ones, big and small, with every type of mind

and every type of body...?

"All right, marry the girl. Will you raise a family? You're Shining

Ones, Johnny, both of you. The rest of humanity fears you, and

rightfully. Your children will be stoned away if they venture near

normal people. Perhaps life with the Robots would be best for them

after all.

"Here you have the chance to stop all that. Not only could we negate

the power of the Robots, but we could destroy the Plague as well. Did

you hear me, we could destroy the Plague? Before you give me your final

answer, let me tell you what I found."

"I'm listening. But--"

"But nothing. Only listen. This Central Intelligence is a vast

cybernetics machine occupying an entire building--ironically, it is the

United Nations building where once were housed the dreams of mankind.

Now, understand this, Johnny. Every Robot in North and South America

has its own particular wavelength, although the master intelligence is

in tune with all of them. Each individual Robot sentience is dependent

for its existence upon the great cybernetics machines in Central

Intelligence. In other words, if you were to destroy them, at one blow

you would 'kill' every Robot in the hemisphere!"

"How did you find all that out?"

* * * * *

Westler smiled. "There was one thing the Robots did not bargain for--an

ex-college professor! The information was available in, of all places,

the main library for humans here in the city. It took some finding, but

as an old hand at research I had an edge even on the Robots with their

mechanical minds. Anyway, all you'd have to do is destroy this Central

Intelligence, and--"

"Might as well say destroy the moon, Amos. It's probably so well

guarded a whole Army of men couldn't break through, let alone two of

us."

"That's right," Westler said eagerly, "men could never hope to get

through, but Robots could."

"What are you talking about?"

"The second thing I learned tonight. Once again, it was so deeply

cross-referenced, so thoroughly hidden away that although it was

available if one knew where to look, the science of research is

such a dead thing that no one knew of its existence, probably not

even the Robots. Johnny, the earliest model Robots were built to

function in a double fashion. They were Robots, yes--but they are also

compartments in which a man can fit for manual control. They were

originally designed, you might say, as glorified suits of armor. While

the research material is naturally old, all I could gather seems to

indicate that no changes have ever been made structurally in those

early models. In other words, a man could climb inside a Robot today,

right now, and no one would know the difference."

"You're forgetting one thing," Johnny pointed out. "Are you going to

walk up to a Robot and tell him, 'Pardon me, old fellow, I'd like to

borrow you and use you for a disguise for a while'?"

"I'm not forgetting anything. We work in the repair bays, remember? We

have access to partially dismantled Robots. We could find ourselves

two dismantled old ones, somehow manage to get inside, make our way to

Central Intelligence...."

"I still haven't said I'm going to do it. I'd like to help you, Amos.

I'll take your word about the plan. It has possibilities. But that

still has nothing to do with my own problems. Right now Diane is the

most important thing."

"Diane's future, your future, all our futures ultimately depend on

this. What's the matter with you? You fail to see the forest for the

trees. Tomorrow, what's tomorrow, with all mankind's days ahead of

us--slave or free? Perhaps one man could do the job alone, although two

would have a better chance. But I think you know I'm not the man for

the job. I don't await your answer, Johnny Hope. I've no one else to

turn to. Humanity awaits your answer."

"Let me think," said Johnny, waving Westler away when he would have

continued talking. More quickly than he dared hope, he had found Diane.

With equal swiftness, Westler had discovered what he sought. That left

Johnny in the middle of a tug-of-war which wouldn't wait indefinitely

for his answer.

* * * * *

As the closing gong sounded, 63-17-B watched the Shining Ones shuffle

away from their benches and make their way down the corridor toward the

cafeteria which would serve them an unimaginative but well-balanced

evening meal. But two humans remained behind, talking avidly over the

gleaming bodies of two stripped-down Robots. Strange, thought 63-17-B,

who was now confronted with the first even mildly unusual event since

taking over the dull routine of his new job that they should continue

working after the closing gong had sounded. He could summon Hartness,

the scarred human supervisor, and have him talk with the two, or ...

Hartness, his metal-jointed foot! He would do no such thing. If perhaps

the humans were up to some mischief, and if it did not endanger

63-17-B's own position still further, then let them play. If it gave a

few Robots and even Central Intelligence a hard time for a while, it

served them right. Of course, nothing really serious could come from

the tampering of two helpless humans....

"What about that guy up there?" Johnny raised an eyebrow in the

direction of the supervising Robot, motionless on his stone perch. "Is

he watching us?"

"It appears that he is. Unfortunately, we can't do a thing about it. At

least not until we find out if these gadgets will work with us inside

them. Here, Johnny--you see these tiny items? These are transistors,

using germanium instead of a vacuum grid to activate electrons,

smaller, more compact, more powerful, of longer life. Without them

the whole science of cybernetics which ultimately made the Robots

possible would never have advanced beyond the rudimentary stage. For

with transistors replacing vacuum tubes you still need the entire U.N.

building to house Central Intelligence. Under the older system, all New

York City would not have been enough."

"Tell me later," Johnny pleaded. "I want to get started. The longer we

delay here the longer it will take until we're finished. And I still

have that appointment with Diane tonight. I couldn't contact her during

the day because she said she works with Starbuck. We've got to hurry."

Westler's hands, guiding the complex tools, moved with swift

efficiency, as if, indeed, he had worked with the Robots all his life.

Wires were crossed, insulated, re-arranged. Gaps and relays were tested

and retested, gears changed, long-unused parts oiled, cleaned, checked

for defects. Surface plates were clamped into place over layers of

insulation. At last the two Robots lay there, supine but--Westler

hoped--ready for human use.

"He's still watching," said Johnny.

"Let him. We couldn't prevent him. Only hope he suddenly doesn't decide

to come down here for a closer look or send for help. It seems amazing

he's done neither so far."

"Maybe he's asleep."

"Robots do not sleep. I assure you. Well, it's ready." Westler reached

into the Robots' interior before clamping on the final head plates.

Each Robot stood up in ponderous silence.

"You first, Johnny. I can clamp my plate from the inside. Are you sure

my explanations on how to work this were satisfactory? Once inside

we'll have to contact each other by signals only."

"What about the radio sets inside? I don't know much about radio, but

you said they worked."

"They do, but the wavelength might be too close to a Robot wavelength

and we'd give ourselves away. Remember, we are to be nothing more or

less than two Robots once we climb inside. That way, there shouldn't be

any trouble. All ready? Up you go."

Johnny was boosted up, pulled himself within the cramped interior

of the Robot. There was barely room for him to stand upright, his

shoulders hunched, arms tight in front of him. A dizzying mass of dials

and levers confronted him suddenly, and although Westler had explained

them and diagrammed them and made Johnny memorize them, he was still

bewildered by direct contact. He was almost afraid to try his first

movement, lest the Robot remain immobile.

The face plate slammed home. Johnny could see through the one-way

plastic of the Robot's eyes as Westler climbed into his own machine.

Johnny pulled the starting lever and felt his Robot lurch forward. Must

learn to control the motion ... so ... he was now aware of a lumbering

gait, of a steady advance toward the farther wall....

Something made him whirl and peer through the rear eyes. The Robot

supervisor was coming toward them at a rate of speed they couldn't

match.

* * * * *

"You see?" said Starbuck proudly. "I am no longer a servant. I suppose

you would call me a junior executive now. But I'm on the way up.

Definitely on the way up. In a while there is no telling how far I can

go."

"I'm sure of it," Diane nodded agreement. She didn't want to be

bothered by Starbuck today, not when her thoughts were all on the night

and Johnny. She was so nervous she couldn't keep from looking anxious.

If only Starbuck, all wrapped up in himself the way he was, would fail

to see it for a few hours longer.

"I suppose you wonder how I can advance so rapidly. It is quite simple,

Diane. I look around me. I make contacts. I miss nothing. As an

example, I even know of your meeting with Johnny Hope last night."

"What!"

"I wouldn't really mind it, except that my informant said you are

considering escape from the Citadel. That, of course, is out of the

question."

In his short time at the Citadel, Diane realized, Starbuck had

affected a way of speaking which hardly fit his booming voice or

boyish face. It was as if he had decided to ape the Shining Ones who

stood highest in the Robots' confidence. To Diane it was contemptuous,

although now her mind was awhirl with the thought that she and Johnny

had been discovered.

"What are you going to do?" she asked in a small, helpless voice.

"Hope will be arrested. Naturally, he will never be permitted to see

you again."

Diane stared at Starbuck in horror. Johnny must be found and warned.

There was still time. They could alter their plans, this time in

secrecy, without any women around who could spy on them for Starbuck.

But she had to find Johnny before it was too late.

In sudden despair, she realized she didn't even know where to look.

Slaves to the Metal Horde · 第 6 / 7 章