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

‘Again I see no great difficulty,’ Jasperodus answered. He wondered why he lingered to talk to Inwing, instead of getting on with his business. Nevertheless he went on: ‘A small, compact armed force is all that is necessary to hold down a country the size of Gordona. Such a force of men can always be raised, if there are suitable inducements.’

Inwing’s face looked tragic as he recognised the logic of the argument. But he made one last try. ‘Listen, Commander, your control of the country will be much easier if you have the whole of the Guard with you. I can give you that: you know that at least half the men will follow my lead when it comes to a showdown. I’ll serve you, faithfully, absolutely faithfully – you or your master – for the rest of my life. I swear it. My only condition is that King Zhorm and his family must be allowed to go with their lives.’

Inwing’s popularity was already a factor in Jasperodus’ mind. ‘You are previously sworn to serve King Zhorm,’ he pointed out.

‘I can do him no greater service than to strike this bargain with you,’ Inwing retorted. But suddenly Jasperodus’ obduracy seemed to come home to him and he became angry and despairing. ‘It’s hopeless, isn’t it?’ he sneered, looking as though he were about to spit. ‘Here I am trying to appeal to your better nature! You may be clever, but you’re a robot – there’s nothing to appeal to in that dead brain.’

Jasperodus shoved him aside and strode onwards.

Finding the nursery door locked, he smashed it inwards and surveyed the scene inside.

Two nurses were hurriedly dressing the children, who seemed sleepy and upset. Zhorm was on his knees, helping them. At Jasperodus’ intrusion he swung round with a glare of fear and hatred, clutching an impotent pistol.

The robot’s gaze flicked quickly around the nursery: the beds on which the children slept, the toys strewn around the floor, the colourful pictures of soldiers and animals on the walls.

He had not made any decision as to how he would act; but when he spoke the words came out of his mouth as if unbidden.

‘You will take your family and leave Gordona forever. Do you hear me, Zhorm? Forever! My men will be here in ten minutes to take you to the border. Be ready!’

He stormed away, ignoring the anxious Cree Inwing as he swept past him. But further along the corridor his path was blocked by a distraught Padua, who looked at him accusingly.

‘I helped you, Jasperodus. You would be junk without me. And now you have betrayed my trust to an unimaginable degree!’

Jasperodus could not help but give vent to a low, ugly laugh. ‘You are the robotician, Padua. I am merely a mechanism. You should have known of my future conduct in advance, and therefore your criticism is misplaced.’

6

Hands, soft and caressing, moved all over him, paying close attention to every inch of his body surface. Jasperodus lay passively, concentrating on the pleasant sensations.

The girl was the same red-head who had helped to clean him that first time nearly two years ago. Now that he was master of the royal household she had volunteered to perform the service daily, cleaning and polishing him so as to preserve his appearance of gleaming majesty. She plainly enjoyed the task, getting some degree of arousal from it. Sometimes her breathing would deepen and occasionally, when lingering around the box-like bulge at the divide of his legs, she would seem to become momentarily frantic and her hand would pummel the air, as though manipulating the missing phallus.

Masculinity, thought Jasperodus. Apparently he exuded masculinity. How a machine could possess such a quality was presumably baffling, but for some reason he did.

He, of course, failed to share her excitement. Sexuality was still a mystery to him: the sensations were deliciously soothing, but otherwise neutral.

‘Are you pleased, Lord?’ she asked in an eager voice. And suddenly she clambered over his body to lie on him full length, pressing her pelvis down on him.

He pushed her off and stood up. He did not like to be reminded of his deficiencies.

Stepping to his nearby office, he found Craish and Cree Inwing waiting for him. Foreseeably, the news they brought was unsettling.

‘There is little doubt that the main attack will come tomorrow, if not tonight,’ Inwing told him, explicating over a map that was laid out on a table. ‘Here is Zhorm and his force, and here are we, camped outside the town of Fludd. We are under-strength, owing to the necessity of posting forces in other parts of the country to forestall the rebellions that are expected.’