“It was too crowded with predators. And life. The gravity index was too high. Practical matters aside, they considered this world more beautiful.”
“Why did they die off?” asked Bryan Trahan, who had been observing quietly. “What happened to them?”
“After we had settled, after a period of great achievement, they began again to disagree. Sometimes on form of government. Sometimes on the ethics of certain medical procedures. Sometimes on the value of literary works. Their quarrels splintered them into smaller and more hostile fragments. We could have removed the part of them that resisted socialization. Could have tamed them. But that issue itself became divisive. They loved combat.
“Eventually they became subject to their own technology, lost the knowledge without which reason is only of limited use. And they retreated into their own barbaric past.”
Jason picked up one of the tablets and inspected it.
“Yes. That is exactly right. They forgot who I was. Who they were. They converted the surface villas, which were designed to allow appreciation of the vistas of this world, into places of worship.”
“And you,” said Bryan, “became the resident deity.”
It laughed. The sound was bone-chilling. “Yes. Toward the end, they were killing one another to curry my favor.”
“Why didn’t you stop them?” asked Judy, her voice cold.
“It was not my prerogative to interfere, but only to help.”
“My God,” said Warren. “It sounds like one of the laws of robotics.”
“What?” asked Bryan.
Warren was surprised that anyone in that group would not have heard of the three laws of robotics. “A robot must obey a human,” he said.
“I am not a robot.”
Patti stared at the pyramid.
“And they did this while you watched?” asked Murray.
There was no answer. As the silence stretched out, they glanced uncomfortably at each other.
“Do you have a moral sense?” asked Eddie.
“That’s an impertinent question, Edward.”
“You know who I am.”
“I know who all of you are.”
“You,” said Bryan, “are able to tell us their whole history. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Not only here, but on the home world.”
“I do not have all that in my memory, but I can make it available.”
“How?”
“It is stored in the ships.”
Murray’s face clouded. “The ships,” he said. “The vehicles they used to cross the stars.”
“Yes.”
“What kind of vehicles?” asked Eddie. “How fast were they?”
“They traveled at multiples of light speed.”
“My God,” said Judy. “You can give us FTL.”
“There is little that the People did not understand about the mechanics of the universe. That which is allowed, they were capable of performing. I suspect you do not have anti-gravity?”
“No.”
“Temporal manipulation?”
“Probably not.”
“Quantum power?”
“Not to speak of. But you can make all this available to us?”
“If you wish. You might want to consider whether you have the wisdom to control the capabilities I can provide.”
“Where are the ships?” asked Abu.
“In the asteroid belt. I will give you their location if you will do something for me.”
“I thought,” said Judy, “there’d be something.”
Murray looked puzzled. “What could you possibly want from us?”
“I’ve been here a long time. I want you to disengage my circuits. Give me peace.”
“You mean kill you?” asked Patti, shocked.
“I mean terminate my existence.”
“We can’t do that,” said Bryan. “We can’t kill a sentient creature.”
“I’m a machine.”
Abu shook his head. “You said you weren’t a robot.”
“It is my request. You have an obligation to honor it.”
“We’re not bound to honor someone else’s code of conduct,” said Jason, lowering himself into a chair. “Listen, I understand you’ve been alone for centuries. But you’ll never be alone again. Someone will always be here.” He looked up at Murray. “Won’t we, Murray?”
“I don’t think you understand. I don’t wish to give offense, but you’re not appropriate companions for me. There’s hope for you, but you still lack the subtlety of an advanced intellect.”
Eddie sighed. “Advanced intellect? You used to run subways.”
“Good. I’m pleased to see you have a sense of humor. If the behavior exhibited on the reports coming in from your home world is typical, I can understand why.”
It was time to break off. “We’ll deal with it tomorrow,” I told them. “We’ll discuss the issue in the morning, and when we know what we want to do, we’ll recall the Administrator and give him our answer.”
Technically, when the program had ended for the day, the Baranovians were expected to get away from it. They were supposed to go boating or play shuffleboard or just sit around in The Hawk’s Nest. But Sam explained to me that these people took the game very seriously. I’d already seen some evidence of that tendency when Murray’s team stayed up wrestling with the translations. On this third night, they could be found in groups all over Skyhawk, in conference rooms, along the benches, out on the terrace behind the dining room, debating the choice that had been laid before them.
Could they comply with the wish of a sentient being and, in effect, kill it? After all, Patti argued to a small group outside the boathouse, there’s nothing physically wrong with it. It’s only depressed. Killing it would be murder.
Warren Hatch and Eddie Edwards almost came to blows. Warren also thought it would be murder. But Eddie explained that he’d kept a cancer-ridden sister alive against her will. When he described the experience, his eyes grew wet. “Never again,” he said. “If this thing wants to be terminated, then I think we should comply.”
Warren shook his head. “Even if you have to violate your own moral code to do so?”
Maureen and I felt so good about what we were seeing that we left the grounds and went downtown to celebrate. There was a small college town nearby with a hotel featuring a sidewalk restaurant. The evening was pleasant, there were no insects, and the moonlight was serene. We started with BLT’s, and finished with gin tonics. “I think we can relax now,” she said. “The program’s going to be fine.”