Caliban

Kresh nodded. “In other words, we can stop Gubber Anshaw talking to her, but not Jomaine Terach. Which reminds me, it’s high time we talked to Gubber, anyway. But damn it, I’m tired.” Alvar Kresh reached up to rub the bridge of his nose. “Tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow. But see to it the guard robots keep Anshaw away from her until then.”

“Yes, sir. I have relayed the order over hyperwave.”

“Good. Very good. Then let’s go home.”

“Sir, excuse me, but I fear you have neglected a vital point,” Donald said. “ Am I not right in asking if I should issue orders to apprehend this robot Caliban?”

Alvar Kresh shook his head and sighed. “You ‘re rightand you’re wrong, Donald. It’s risky to wait-but it could be just as risky to go out after him now. Think about it-if thisis some bizarre Settler plot, clearly the point of it is to sow panic, throw a good scare into us. Surely, if that is the case, the plotters stand ready to exploit that panic, perhaps by staging something even more frightening than a robot committing arson. No matter ~hat we do, the search for Caliban is bound to become public knowledge. Can you imagine the panic if word of a rogue got out-and a skilled conspirator set to work to build that fear?”

“It would be terrible, sir. And I might add that the very news of a robot behaving as Caliban has-well, it would be likely to cause permanent dysfunction in many, many robots. Still, the danger to humans that Caliban represents-”

“Must be weighed against the danger of moving too soon. If we start out now, with the information we have, what are we going to do? Arrest all the tall red robots? Or why stop there? Maybe our friend Caliban can disguise himself by slapping on a fresh coat of paint, or by exchanging his long arms and legs for short ones.”

“With the result thatall robots will be distrusted. Which would be the intended result of a Settler plot. If the plot exists. Yes, sir, I see the difficulty.”

“It’s about all Ican see at this point,” Kresh said, feeling very much like a tired old man. “But we can’t move on this Caliban robot until we have more data. We can’t do a search of the entire city. We need better information. But let us be ready if things break quickly. Relay an order for increased rapid-response air patrols. If we get lucky and spot him somewhere, I want a deputy on top of him within two minutes.”

“Very well, sir. That will no doubt be sufficient to-” Suddenly Donald’s head cocked to one side, as if he were listening to something only he could hear-and that was not far from the truth. Kresh was familiar with the mannerism. Donald’s on-board communications system was receiving a message.

“Who’s calling, Donald?” Alvar asked.

“One moment, sir. It is a timelock-secured message. I will have to wait for the synchronization burst to decode it. One moment. Ah, there it is. You are ordered to meet with the Governor tomorrow morning, first thing, seven hours from now.”

Kresh groaned. “Devil take it all. The man’s politics are bad enough. Does he have to get up at insane hours as well?”

But there was no real response to that question, and Donald offered none. At last Alvar Kresh sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Home, Donald,” he said. “I want to see that damned lecture before I see the Governor. I’ve had it up to here with knowing less than everyone else.”

“THEY’D only letme in, Fredda. Not Gubber. The police robots won’t let him in until the Sheriff has-”

“Oh, be quiet, Jomaine. I know the law. My head hurts enough as it is.” Fredda Leving leaned her head back against her pillow and shut her eyes. The throbbing was getting worse. But she could not take anything for it. Not yet. Not yet. She would have to be sharp, be careful, even with Jomaine. Especially with Jomaine. First, she had to take precautions against being monitored. It had been pointless before when there was a police robot in the room, but it was vital now. She would have to phrase the order carefully if it was to do any good.

She cleared her throat and spoke. “I order all robots in the room or monitoring this room in any way to forget all conversation that takes place between the time of this order and the next time I clap my hands three times within a period of five seconds. To remember any such conversation, or to report it, would almost certainly cause me harm.”That ought to do it, unless the police had an actual human operative listening in on some hidden microphone, or a nonrobotic recording system working. But those possibilities were absurdly remote. Spacers used robots foreverything.

Which was, of course, the entire problem.

She turned toward Jomaine. “All right, I think we can talk now. Sit down and tell me what you know.”