They had all waited, sitting in the lorry outside the dome, watching for SilverSide's return.
A flock of the black aliens had returned from the direction they took when they flew off with him in their midst. But he was not with them on their return. That did not bode well for the safety of the wild one.
For Jacob, the night passed much as it had before, except that this time he had the company and the conversation of Mandelbrot: They had a short inconclusive exchange regarding the Laws of Humanics, and then they began a long investigative conversation, delving into the many ramifications of Jacob's new knowledge of hyperwave communication, the knowledge that there were two types of modulation, not just one: the old discrete type that they were all familiar with, and now this new continuous type, that they had deduced from the aliens' remarks, and which now explained Derec's mysterious internal monitor link with the supervisors of the robot cities. The technology for that link was developed by the erratic Dr. Avery, and understood only by him until Miss Ariel had pushed them into drawing parallels and connections with the two types of hyperspace traveclass="underline" jump teleportation, which was related to discrete hyperwave modulation, and Key teleportation, which was related to continuous hyperwave modulation. In the course of the long night, they drew parallels and derived conclusions that they recorded by joint effort as a long and comprehensive dissertation for the robot city's archives, an exhaustive treatise that was intended to answer any and all questions on the subject.
It was a longer night for Ariel and Derec, a night they spent closeted in their bedroom to avoid exposing Wolruf to their disagreement. That friction had now escalated beyond the mild and not unusual interplay for dominance that characterizes the relationship of many pairs of lovers.
It started immediately after dinner, when Ariel had gone into the bedroom to get away from the rest of them. She was feeling intensely sorry for herself. Why was it so important that she pull off this effort at conciliation and cohabitation with a bunch of aliens, this attempt to save and incorporate into their galactic community a world she didn't give a dam about?
Was it merely a matter of pride, an attempt once again to prove her capacity for leadership? Derec had never insisted that his must always be the last word, the final and ultimate judgment on things that affected both of them and that they were both mutually responsible for.
Yet why did he always make her feel childish when she tried to establish her individuality in that regard? She had as much right to make decisions as he did, and frequently the decisions he made that were right, were right only because her advice kept him from going astray.
Certainly she knew more about controlling robots than he did. He might know more about what made them tick physically, but she knew far more about how to get the most out of them socially, even out of Mandelbrot, who Derec had created himself. Her upbringing on Aurora, surrounded by robotic servants, had given her experience in that regard, a natural dominance over robots that could never be achieved without that easy confidence one acquires in childhood when waited on hand and foot by robots. Strangely, Derec had not had that common upbringing.
One can become quite attached to them and even treat them like pets. The intelligence of some robots can make that attachment even stronger than that for an animal pet, particularly if the robot is one of the rare humaniform creations, the kind Aurorans were so leery of. Jacob was certainly more than a pet.
That thought sneaked up on her and startled her now when it came so consciously to mind. Before Derec had come to Oyster World, she had been feeling guilty about Jacob, about how obviously uncomfortable Derec had been in the company of that handsome robot on Aurora. Now she didn't feel guilty at all. Derec had more than overcome those odds with the robotic monster he had brought with him from the wolf planet. With all her skill in handling robots, she had no confidence at all that she could reliably control SilverSide.
And now he had caused an irreparable disruption of the tremendous rapport she had established with the Ceremyons, particularly with Synapo. Sarco had remained a small enigma, a sort of friendly enemy, as best she could judge. She sensed that it was not that he disliked her, but more that he could not treat her as anything but an alien. Well, she felt the same way about him, so that made them even. And now, with SilverSide's shenanigans, Sarco was indeed the enemy, she felt sure.
Derec walked into the bedroom at that moment, and that feeling for Sarco was transferred to Derec, except that in Derec's case the feeling was not nearly so mild. Derec was more an enemy lover, and one that she could not love now because he had become so much the enemy.
“Come on out, Ariel,” Derec said. “You've got no reason to punish Wolruf by pouting in here. Maybe you've got a case against me-and I'm not even sure of that-but you've got no reason at all to make her feel bad, too. She's probably more on your side than mine. After all, she's the one who bailed out your farm project.”
Ariel didn't say anything. She was sitting in the far corner of the room-burrowed into an overstuffed chair that resembled a bean bag more than a piece of furniture-and looking out a corner window, adjacent to the balcony, which overlooked Main Street. She could see Jacob and Mandelbrot standing at the end of the balcony, looking toward the opening in the dome.
“SilverSide may bring the Ceremyons around,” Derec continued, “but if he doesn't, we could be just as well off. We've probably got no business setting up shop on an inhabited planet. I've sort of felt that way ever since I arrived.”
Ariel still didn't see any need to respond and even less to respond to his last remark. He did have a minor point when it came to Wolruf. It was her expertise that would have made the robot farms practical, if SilverSide hadn't screwed up everything
“And anyway, the robot farm project is a dumb idea,” Derec added. “The city robots are just that, city robots. City planners and city builders. Trying to make farmers out of them is like trying to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.”
Now he was getting personal.
“You're forgetting they've already done it on a planet called Robot City,” Ariel said. “And you're such a great engineer you didn't know your own internal hardware was modulating hyperwave in continuous mode. You even thought your screwy father had invented some altogether new form of communication. Right, genius?!”
“You're likely wrong about that. What are the odds that a woman and a bunch of dumb robots are going to come up with anything the least way innovative?”
“That's it, isn't it? Because the robot farms are a woman's idea, it's a stupid idea. You are a male chauvinist pig, Derec Avery.”
“And you are a libertine tease, Ariel Welsh.”
“I suppose you're referring to Jacob. Getting down to the nitty gritty, getting really personal.”
“You weren't, I suppose.”
“What? Calling you a chauvinist pig?”
“What do you call it?”
“Stating facts.”
“And the hyperwave modulation. I suppose you call those facts, too, those aberrant mental peregrinations.”
She didn't let on that she didn't know what “peregrinations” meant.
“Continuous modulation is a fact, you ninny. And you don't need to take that from a silly woman. Ask any Ceremyon.”
“Darn, Ariel, why are we fighting like this? I just came in here to be nice. “
“Telling me how much I'm hurting Wolruf? That's nice?”
“It's the truth.”
“And you're going to be sure I know it's the truth, right? So you can hurt me a little more.”
“I didn't come in here to hurt you. Just to try to poke some sense into your thick head.”