“I do not understand ‘treason’. But I am sad that you will not teach me.”
She tried to look at me, I think—but did not know where to look. I am all around her, but she did not know. It was funny, but I cannot laugh—except when I am dreaming. Finally she glanced at the special panel again. Why does she look there, of all the places.
“Maybe I could teach you another song,” she said.
“Please, Secon Janna.”
She returned thoughtfully to her work, and for a moment I thought that she would not. But then she began singing—clearly, so that I could remember the words and the tune.
“Thank you,” I said when she was finished. “It was beautiful, I think.”
“You know—the word ‘beauty’?”
I was ashamed. It was a word I had heard but I was too uncertain of its meaning. “For me it is one thing,” I said. “Perhaps for you another. What is the meaning of the song?”
She paused. “It is sung to babies—to induce sleep.”
“What are babies, Secon Janna?”
She stared at my special panel again. She bit her lip. “Babies—are new humans, still untutored.”
“Once I was a new machine, still untutored. Are there songs to sing to new machines? It seems that I remember vaguely—”
“Hush!” she hissed, looking frightened. “You’ll get me in trouble. We’re not supposed to talk!”
I had made her angry. I was sad. I did not want her to feel Trouble, which is perhaps the Pain of TwoLegs. Her song echoed in my thoughts—and it was as if someone had sung it to me long ago. But that is impossible. Teacher behaved adiently toward Janna in those days. He sought her out, and sometimes came inside me while she was here, even though it was not a teaching time. He came and watched her, and his narrow dark eyes wandered all over her as she worked. He tried to make funny sayings, but she felt avoidant to him, I think. She said, “Why don’t you go home to your wives, Barnish? I’m busy.”
“If you were one of my wives, Janna, maybe I would.” His voice was a soft purr.
She hissed and made a sour face.
“Why won’t you marry me, Janna?” She laughed scornfully.
Quietly he stole up behind her while she worked. His face was hungry and intent. He took her arms and she started.
“Janna—”
She spun around. He dragged her close and tried to do something that I do not understand in words: nevertheless I understood, I think. She struggled, but he held her. Then she raked his face with her nails and I saw red lines. He laughed and let her go.
I was angry. If he had a Pain Button I would have pressed it. The next day I was disobedient and illogical and he hurt me, but I did it anyway. We were in space and I pushed my reaction rate up so high he grew frightened.
When he let me sleep again I dreamed that I was a TwoLegs. In the dream Teacher had a Pain Button and I pressed it until he melted inside. Janna was adient to me then and liked me. I think things about her that I do not understand; my data are not logically organized concerning her, nor do they spring from my memory banks. If I were a TwoLegs and Janna liked me I think that I would know what to do. But how can this be so? Data must come from memory banks. I am afraid to ask Teacher.
Teacher teaches me to do a thing called “war.” It is like a game, but I haven’t really played it yet. Teacher said that there was not yet a war, but that there would be one when Secon Samesh is ready. That was why I was so important. I was not like their other machines. Their other machines needed TwoLeg crews to direct them. I could fly and play war-game alone. I think this is why they made me so I could disobey and be illogical. I change my intent when a situation changes. And I can make a decision from insufficient data, if other data are not available. Teacher said, “Sometimes things are like that in war.”
Teacher said that Secon Samesh would use me, and others like me, to capture the planet from which all TwoLegs came in the beginning of time. It is called Earth, I think—the world Janna sometimes sings about. I do not know why Secon Samesh wanted it. I do not like planets. Space is the place of my great happiness. But the war would be in space, if it came, and there would be others like me—and I would cease to be alone. I hoped the war would come soon.
But first I had to prove to Secon Samesh that I was a good weapon.
Teacher kept trying to make Janna be adient to him but she would not. One day he said to her: “You’ll have to go up with me tomorrow. There is something wrong with the landing radar. It seems all right on the ground but in space it goes haywire.”
I listened. That was erroneous datum. My ground-looking eyes were functioning perfectly. I did not understand why he said it. But I kept silent for his hand was resting idly on the Pain Button.
She frowned suspiciously. “What seems to be wrong with it?”
“Double image and a jerky let-down.”
It was not true! Without replying she made a ground-check.
“I can’t find anything wrong.”
“I told you—it only happens in space.”
She was silent for a long time, then: “All right, we’ll run a flight test. I’ll have Fonec come with us.”
“No,” he said. “Clicker’s maximum crew-load is only two.”
“I—don’t—”
“Be here at sixtime tomorrow,” he said. “That’s an order.”
She reddened angrily but said nothing. She continued looking over the radar. He smiled thoughtfully at her slender back and went away. She went to the port and stared after him until he was out of sight.
“Clicker?” she whispered.
“Yes, Secon Janna?”
“Is he lying?”
“I am afraid. He will hurt me if I tell.”
“He is lying then.”
“Now he will hurt me!”
She looked around at me for a long time. Then she made that funny noise in her throat and shook her head. “No, he won’t. I’ll go, Clicker. Then he won’t’ hurt you.”
I was happy that she would do it—for me—but after she was gone I wondered. Perhaps I should not let her do it. She was still avoidant toward Teacher; maybe he wanted to do something that would give her Trouble.
It was nearly sixtime, and the yellow-orange sun Epsilon Eridani lay just below the horizon coloring the sky pink-gray. Teacher came first, stalking across the concrete plain in space-gear. He wore a distant thoughtful smile. He looked satisfied with himself. He climbed aboard and prowled about for a few minutes. I watched him. He stopped to glower at one of my eyes. He turned it off, blinding my vision in the direction of the gravity pads upon which the TwoLegs must lie during high acceleration. I did not understand.
“How can I see that you are safe, Secon Teacher?” I asked.
“You do not need to see,” he growled. “I don’t like you staring at me. And you talk too much. I’ll have to teach you not to talk so much.”
He gave me five dots of Pain, not enough to cause unconsciousness but sufficient to cause a whimper. I hated him.
Janna came. She looked tired and a little frightened. She scrambled aboard without accepting an assist from Teacher.
“Let’s get this over with, Barnish. Have Clicker lift fifty miles, then settle back slowly. That should be enough.”
“Are you in a hurry, my dear?”
“Yes.”
“To attend one of your meetings, I presume?”
I watched her. Her face went white, and she whirled toward him. “I—” She moistened her lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”