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

A surge of delight went through Jasperodus when he glanced from there to the picture of the black ship and experienced the same mind-expanding breadth of vision, all in the space of seconds. The universe of places and events revealed by this picture was quite different from the first, and if anything even more stupendous.

Jasperodus looked in turn at the other panels. Each produced the same effect: an experience like encompassing some huge and intricate literary work all in a flash. Suddenly he felt that if his mind was forced to accept one more such rush of impressions it would burn out. He turned to Charrane and in a low, subdued voice described what had taken place.

‘Surprising, is it not?’ the Emperor agreed mildly. ‘The technique was known as dianoesis. Those little tufts that compose the pictures transmit thoughts and concepts to the beholder in some manner. Just another classical art that is irretrievably lost.’

Charrane sauntered to stand unassumingly in front of his throne. Jasperodus followed him, his imagination still full of what had been forced into it; he struggled to bring his perceptions back down to the scale of the basilica.

‘But enough of art,’ Charrane announced. ‘I am obliged to give most of my time to more worldly matters. To return to your biography. In spite of your initial intemperate remarks I detected in your story a marked admiration for the Old Empire.’

‘That is so. The attainments of the past inspire me. I would see them equalled.’

‘Then we are brothers, despite our separate natures. Know, robot, that the plan of my life is to revive the glory that was Tergov.’

The sense of will and conviction in these words impressed Jasperodus. The Emperor meant what he said.

‘If you concur with this aim then you can be useful to me,’ Charrane continued. ‘But to answer your earlier impertinence, it is my intention to extend the Empire as far as the moons of Jupiter, exactly as was the case in olden times.’

‘I fully accord with the ambition, sire. It is only the timing I disagree with. Everything must be done in the proper order.’

‘And how would you set the timetable?’ Charrane frowned. ‘Wait – it seems I am to be pestered with paperwork again. Here comes Ax Oleander, one of my viziers.’

Approaching through the hall stepped a big, portly man in a flowing cloak, attended by three scurrying assistants. Anxious to see what quality of advice Charrane was receiving, Jasperodus studied this man’s face. His cheeks were bulging and purple; his small mouth held a permanent sneer and was slightly agape; his chin receded. The hooked, purple nose was surmounted by hot, close-set eyes that were staring and hostile.

A forceful, strong personality, Jasperodus decided. But not one he would trust.

Oleander came to a stop and swept his cloak behind him while bowing low. ‘May we crave a few moments, sire?’

‘You may, Ax, you may,’ said Charrane indifferently, and he began signing the documents which Oleander, while keeping up a babble of explanations, took one by one from his clerks.

Charrane stopped on coming to one folio. ‘What is this?’ he demanded with displeasure, staring at the double sheet. He thrust it back at Oleander. ‘Have it paraphrased first.’

The vizier glared horrified at the folio and the veins stood out on his face. ‘It should have been done!’ he remonstrated, and he turned to give one of the clerks a clout.

Having glimpsed the sheet, Jasperodus understood. Like other leaders in history who had tried to reconstitute a shattered society, Charrane was illiterate. He was able to read only lettered script, and not the symbolic logic which in the Old Empire had been taught to every citizen, and which even now marked off the literate minority. This detail gave Jasperodus something of an insight into Charrane’s origins and character.

The remaining documents were quickly disposed of and taken away by the clerks. Charrane turned again to Jasperodus. ‘Now, what were we talking about?’

‘The current state of the Empire, sire. I was urging a withdrawal from Mars.’

Ax Oleander spoke in a murmuring voice. ‘Have a care, you iron hulk. You are but one step from the junkyard.’

Charrane looked from one to the other, his eyes crafty. Then he uttered a humourless laugh.

‘Hold your rancour, Ax. I am aware that since the plan was mine, no one has yet had the nerve to tell me it was a miscalculation.’ Leisurely he ascended to the throne, then beckoned Jasperodus closer. ‘Your outspokenness pleases me, robot. It is plain that you are a machine of unusual qualities, and I have great need of talent.’ He shrugged contemptuously. ‘Half the men in my service have less wit than a Class One automatic road-mender. So you may consider yourself appropriated to my staff.’

Jasperodus became inwardly exultant. He was delighted by Charrane’s obvious friendliness towards him. ‘And what will my duties be, sire?’

‘It seems you have an interest in strategy – we will attach you to the planning staff, as an assistant to see how you go.’