The Complete Roderick (82 page)

At the end of the afternoon, he was allowed to sit in on a ‘brainstorming’ session in which higher-level futurologists tried to piece together all the findings of their subordinates. He understood a word or two, now and then:

‘Microwave mind control, could we do a restructuring of the update there in Scenario 6A?’

‘That’s your problem, I’m restructuring the input-output model of undersea city economies, I need some energy thoughts.’

‘What demand level? You in the tokamak range there?’

‘Yes, but … the multifold trend …’

‘Screw that! Listen, in the Afro-Asian socio-economic surprise-free framework …’

‘Come on, guys and dolls, let’s be macrohistorical here, okay? I mean even if India does start a bacteriological war, we can still project at least …’

‘I backgrounded the promethean satellite scenario for ten million kilowatts and up, but …’

‘… how head transplants might screw up the …’

‘… penological flexi-time? Only with broad-spectrum vaccines, where does that leave us?’

‘… synergy?’

‘Energy …’

‘… better update the restructuring of these pluralistic security communities, whatever you do.’

‘… integrated whale ranch cloning? Check that.’

‘… energy?’

‘But synergy …’

‘… and anyway, by then American cars’ll be running on sugar too.’

When the meeting broke up, some of the futurologists seemed angry, others very pleased with themselves. One of the smug ones, a tall young man wearing a blazer, came over to slap Roderick on the back.

‘So you’re the Entity! Great! Great to have you aboard!’ Thump, slap.

‘I – thank you – uh.’

‘What do you think of the old place so far? From an Entity point of view, it must seem kinda weird, eh?’

‘Well, I–’

‘Our friend here giving you the full tour?’ Thump. Roderick, speechless, stared at the crest on the blazer. It read
Iron Icon,
and in much smaller letters,
Made in Korea.

The guide said, ‘Yep, well in fact we’re on our way to a directors’ meeting now.’

‘Great. See you round, Entity. Hang loose.’ The heavy hand, poised for another slap, paused. ‘We can’t keep calling you Entity, you oughta have a name, you know?’

‘I know,’ said Roderick. ‘And I–’

‘Rusty. We’ll call you Rusty. Rusty Robot, not bad eh?’ The pummelling was renewed until Roderick’s guide led him away. ‘So long, Rusty!’

He was taken to a conference room where the air was milky blue with pipe-smoke. Along the green leather table, thin liver-spotted hands were passing papers, drumming with impatience, grasping the bowls of pipes. Reptilian eyes moved to study the newcomer, as the rustle of conversation slowly died away.

The chairman at the far end of the table put his hands on the green leather and pushed himself to his feet. The posture was amphibian; an old frog poised at the edge of a mossy dark pond.

‘This is our Entity member, ladies and gentlemen. We won’t bother with introductions if you don’t mind; there are so many items to get through today. So unless you have any questions, could you take your seat and familiarize yourself with the agenda? Good.’

Roderick slipped into a seat and stared without comprehension at the paper before him. He was aware of the eyes, shifting in their pouches of wrinkled skin to focus on him, but he could not look back at them. Only natural that they stared. He was a curiosity. Possibly edible.

1. General remarks, chair.
   

2. Dr Sheldon D’Eath’s report on robot medicine and allied subjects.
   

3. Large computer networks (e.g. Banking, Government, Military): How stable?
   

4. Wind-up of old projects and operations:
   

   (a) Operation Nepomuk
   

   (b) Operation Barsinister
   

   (c) Operation Duckplantain
   

5. Kick-off of new projects and operations:
   

   (a) Project Junebug
   

   (b) Operation Tinhead
   

6. A.O.B.
   

7. (unscheduled) Video report from Vitanuova Space Salvage: shuttle test using robot test pilot.
   

By the time Roderick had read this, Dr D’Eath was already addressing them via satellite, describing his invention of a robot for testing artificial hearts.

‘I patented the design a few years ago, but so far no one is willing to take on production. Maybe with your recommendation, gentle people.’
He was a bland, plump man in pince-nez, with a moustache that made him look on the screen a little like Teddy Roosevelt.
‘The
cost-effectiveness
is favourable compared with using lab animals. Not only are lab animal prices increasing at forty percent per year, there are all the high running costs: feed and vet bills, insurance against anti-vivisection raids. Besides, what do animal data mean in the end? You can’t compare a goat or a calf to say an advertising executive who jogs but smokes – the human life-style
variables can never be satisfactorily matched. And finally, you need a lot of back-up animals, in case of rejection problems, or in case you want to try out design modifications. You need a new animal for each fiddly little modification, say if you change the flip-disc valves. But with my robot it’s easy: You just fit the dacron cuffs, then you snap out one heart and snap in the other. Then just fill ’er up with blood and – bingo!’

The chairman said, ‘Like to interrupt here and suspend the agenda for a moment, to bring in that live video report from Vitanuova Space Salvage. They’re testing some new shuttle using some robot test pilot have we got that?’

The screen lit up with a familiar scene, a space shuttle lashed to a rocket, steaming on the launching pad for a moment before the whole unwieldy-looking assembly rose slowly on a column of fire. A voice commented: ‘…
have lift-off. Two remarkable things about this test: first of all the pilot is a humanoid robot, using ordinary controls with no special fly-by-wire connections at all. The robot, nicknamed Mr Punch, just sits in the pilot’s seat and uses controls like anybody else. The second remarkable thing is the speed with which this whole operation was assembled: the minute Mr Franklin’s robot completed its successful testing at KUR labs, he personally brought it over to us and in fact I guess he personally installed it in the shuttle. We’re talking here about a turnaround time of hours and not days, a really great achievement. We’ve, um, we’ve been trying to get Mr Franklin up to the video unit here to give us his comments on the test so far, but – no, nobody seems to be able to locate him, Well, what can I tell you about him? Mr Ben Franklin, brilliant Product Development man at KUR, and I understand Mr Punch is his personal baby …’

Kratt’s stubby finger stabbed a phone button. ‘Connie, get me Hare, quick … Hare? This is Kratt, what the devil you and Franklin been cooking up between you? Hell you say. Listen, hub, I just been getting the DB from Vitanuova Space Salvage, that goddamn robot is over there right now, yes right now, flying one of their damned shuttles by the seat of its pants – yes I mean the same goddamned Mr Punch you said didn’t work. How much did Franklin pay you to tell me it failed the test? Whatever it was it wasn’t enough, you’re not only out of a job as of now, I’m gonna sue the piss out of you. You two figure you can just walk off with KUR property like that, sell it to somebody else? I’m gonna sue the both of you, and I’ll get you for grand theft, fraud, misuse of
company facilities, I – oh yeah? But how could it fail? I can see the damn space shuttle flying right now, doesn’t look like a damn failure to me, bub.’

He clenched a fist and stared for a moment at the heavy gold ring mounted with a single steel ball, then looked to the screen where the commentary accompanied diagrams of the Vitanuova Space Salvage Shuttle in proposed operation:

‘Yes now I believe we have located Mr Franklin in his car in the parking lot, evidently he’s pretty excited about this test so far, you can see the theoretical test on your screen now, he’s pretty excited, seems to be driving around in circles and honking his horn, that right, Nancy? Shouting what? “That’s the way to do it!” Well it certainly is, the people here at ground control are happy too so far this test is looking good, looking good, we’ll try to get hold of Mr Ben Franklin himself, maybe get his reaction to the test but now maybe we’re ready with a shot of the robot pilot in operation, that ready? Yes, here’s what you’ve all been waiting for
…’

The figure at the controls might have been mistaken for that of a robot at a distance, but the face was without doubt the face of Ben Franklin, his the ragged beard, his the pale expressionless eyes and mad grin.

A bored voice from ground control said,
‘Looks like you have a little temperature buildup there, Mr Punch, can you confirm that incremental?’

‘Ffffffffff’

‘Say again? Can you confirm that temperature incremental in the cabin temperature?’

‘Shhhhhhhhh?’
came from the shuttle, as the camera vibrated and the bright face leaped and danced on the screen.

‘…
will praise thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works and that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiosly wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance fffffffffff and in thy book all my members are written, which in shhhhhhhhhhh were fashioned when as yet there was none of them.’

In the ground control centre an argument took over the sound, many muffled and hysterical voices competing for the single ear.

‘What’s he saying? What’s he –?’

‘… Franklin I’m telling you that’s Franklin up there …’

‘ … alert on that increment we’ll be seeing smoke in …’

‘Don’t be stupid, Nancy says he’s down in the parking …’

‘‘The Bible or
…?’

‘Okay then who’s in the damn car?’

‘Temperature incremental is getting – look!’

‘Oh my God!’

‘Oh!’

The screen showed an instant of Ben Franklin’s face, the eyes reflecting the sheet of flame before it swept over him and the transmission ended.

After a moment the chairman shrugged. ‘Well we mustn’t dwell on that, there’s too much to get through here. And I understand we’ve just had word from KUR that in fact Franklin was fired a week ago. Well. I suggest we take a short break here before we tackle the next item.’

A reptilian jaw near Roderick gave out a dry chuckle. ‘Dear me, I suppose young Mr Wood here must think it’s all as exciting as a TV car chase every day around here. Let me assure you, Mr Wood, nothing could be further from the truth. Most of our meetings engage the intellect, not the endocrine system.’

‘Lucky thing,’ said another. ‘Some of us are old enough to find any stimulation a risk not worth taking, heh heh. The grave beckons.’

‘Or the fishtank,’ said the first jaw. ‘One might seek salvation in the Leo Bunsky aquarium, eh?’

‘Ugly, ugly. I put my trust in the resurrection of the body.’

‘Religion?’

‘Of course not, I mean freeze-drying.’

‘But you must grant that, for all poor Leo’s ugliness, he has at least brought us out of the wilderness of hunting entities. Mr Wood would be thankful for that, I’m sure,’

‘Precisely. All the unsavoury operations we had to initiate. Why, even when hunting Mr Wood here, didn’t we –?’

‘Perhaps Mr Wood doesn’t want to hear –’

‘Oh I do,’ said Roderick. ‘How did you hunt me?’

‘We used these incompetent men from the Agency, mostly. I suppose the worst was that business with the Roxy theatre. Imagine burning down a whole movie house just to kill one robot. And then they bungled it.’

Roderick said, ‘Wait a minute. To destroy me, you were actually willing to burn up a whole theatre full of people?’

‘Well of course you have to see this in an historical perspective, balancing a few hundred lives against – as we saw it – the survival of the human species. Not that we’d have authorized it specifically.’

‘Indeed not,’ said the other. ‘Too inefficient, no finesse. Those Agency men were always ham-handed, let’s not forget the incident of the red stocking-cap.’

Roderick asked what red stocking-cap.

‘Don’t you remember? You were supposed to be wearing it at the Tik Tok Bar, but you cunningly planted it on some old derelict – another life lost, I fear.’

‘Still, Wood, you were a most excellent quarry. Much too good for those yahoos from the Agency.’

‘Have I got this straight?’ Roderick asked. ‘You really murdered innocent people, just to destroy me?’

‘Heh heh, well of course you weren’t the only target. We had to make extensive use of Agency men and even one or two private hit-men, my word yes.’

‘What are you saying? You just went out and, and butchered people right and left?’ Roderick’s voice was loud now, and everyone in the room had turned to stare. ‘Butchered people right and left, just for some principle – some
policy –
you could reverse anyway whenever you felt like it – you could –’

‘Ah well, aren’t policy and principle so often confused, in these troubled times? But to say we
butchered people right and left
is both emotive and inaccurate. We were normally quite selective; those we asked the Agency to “finalize” as we liked to call it, were the inventors of dangerous Entities. Had we let them live, they’d go on making trouble for humanity.’

‘Within our framework for speculation, there was nothing else we could do,’ said the chairman, laying his hands on the table. ‘We were in a zero-option scenario.’

‘Precisely. Precisely. Precisely.’

Roderick had reached the door when the chairman said, ‘Leaving? That’s unwise, Mr Wood. Without our protection, you’ll automatically become the property of KUR International. They’ll probably take your head to pieces.’

‘Suits me.’

Just take a seat, Mr Wood is it? I’ll see if somebody can, excuse me … Good morning, KUR Innernational … Mr Swann? One moment … Ginny, there’s a Dr Welby on three to talk to a Mr Swann, is he in your office? No? Then he must be Patsy’s new boss or, everything’s in such a mess around here today, oh is he legal? Great … Lois have you got a Mr Swann? I have a Dr Welby for him on three … Good morning, KUR Innernational … Yes there is but I don’t know when, I can put you through to the press office …’