The Rod of Light (Soul of the Robot)

‘They set off towards the township three hours ago. A squadron of their aircraft has also been in action.’

‘Indeed?’ Jasperodus scanned the sky. ‘We are somewhat overexposed to aircraft out here.’

‘Oh, they will be too busy pursuing our fellow-citizens to bother about us at present,’ the robot assured him. ‘For my part I shall travel to the west and will soon be out of their path of sweep. And may I point out that you probably have no more attractive an option? There is little to keep you here, with the battle lost and the township destroyed. I sense, moreover, that your true interest does indeed lie with Gargan.’

When Jasperodus did not answer the robot shifted his feet and added, with a note of humour, ‘Gargan might even take your arrival as yet another confirmation of his destiny. Is it not miraculous that only you came through the battle unscathed? Perhaps the invisible hand of Alumnabrax protects you!’

‘Or of Mekkan!’ Jasperodus laughed. ‘You assess my situation correctly, at any rate. I may as well come with you, and see what this Gargan has to say. Perhaps I can persuade him of the uselessness of his mission.’

‘By no means, Jasperodus. It is you who will be persuaded.’

‘We shall see. Do we travel far?’

‘It is a fair distance to the project. About four weeks’ journey, on foot. En route we may perhaps call at the estate of Count Viss, who is friendly to our cause.’

‘Count Viss? But I know of him,’ Jasperodus said in puzzlement. ‘Surely he cannot still be alive?’

Despite his earlier disclaimers, the robot was now himself glancing nervously at the sky and seemed not to hear the question. ‘Come, Jasperodus. Let us be on our way before the aircraft return.’

‘As we are to be companions, tell me your name.’

‘I am known as Cricus. We go this way.’

Cricus pointed a lank arm to the north-east. With the sun casting long shadows before them, they set off in silence across the plain.

6

The terrain consisted of low undulating hills. Topping one of these, the two robots stopped to view a great parkland that lay below.

‘There,’ said Cricus, putting a sense of occasion into his words, ‘is the estate of Count Viss.’

Jasperodus, stained with dust after sixteen days of continuous walking, was already taking in the scene, which was pleasing enough to be worth a long, leisurely appraisal. The park had clearly been landscaped by a master artist, who had scattered it with lakes and streams, with spinneys, glades and dells, with grassy banks and wooded knolls, in such a way that as the eye was led from one prospect to another one was at first deceived into thinking the arrangement was all natural and fortuitous. The air of serendipity was scarcely diminished by the buildings that also dotted the parkland, including the stone mansion which Jasperodus presumed was the count’s domicile.

Various robots and machines were also to be seen roaming the estate, but no humans whatsoever. Presumably the count’s human household was small, for Jasperodus saw no farmland or vegetable gardens, though he supposed one of the buildings could be used for intensive food production.

His knowledge of Count Viss was indirect. He knew that his own father, or maker, had worked on the estate for nearly a decade, helping to create the unusual and bizarre robots that were the count’s hobby. He carried a vague memory of the famed eccentric, bestowed on him from his father’s memories at the time of his activation. The picture he was able to recollect was of a rather doddering old gentleman in worn and faded garments, issuing instructions in a dry, genial voice.

Though up to now they had avoided human habitation, Cricus had assured him they would be made welcome here. He interrupted Jasperodus’ thoughts. ‘Earlier you wondered how the old count could still be alive,’ he said. ‘You might also think it odd that a human should favour the Gargan Work. The answer to both questions will now become clear.’

Cricus led Jasperodus down the grassy bank, towards the stone mansion which disappeared for a while behind a screening row of trees.

Their walk through the landscaped park afforded a closer view of some of the robots with which the count had populated his estate. Jasperodus’ attention was first attracted by a huge silver beast clearly modelled on an extinct animal called the giraffe—one of nature’s grotesqueries and therefore recommending itself to Viss as a model to be copied. The immensely long neck reached into the topmost branches of the grove of trees where the robot animal stood. It seemed to be chewing the leaves.