Renegade iarcraa-2 Read online

  Renegade

  ( Isaac Asimov’s Robot City: Robots and Aliens - 2 )

  Cordell Scotten

  Cordell Scotten

  Renegade

  Isaac Asimov’s Robot City: Robots and Aliens

  Book 2

  Notable Robots

  By Isaac Asimov

  My robot stories and novels seem to have become classics in their own right, and, with the advent of the “Robot City” series of novels, to have become the wider literary universe of other writers as well. Under those circumstances, it might be useful to go over my robot stories and describe some of those which I think are particularly significant and to explain why I think they are.

  1. “Robbie”- This is the first robot story I wrote. I turned it out between May 10 and May 22 of 1939, when I was 19 years old and was just about to graduate college. I had a little trouble placing it, for John Campbell rejected it and so did Amazing Stories. However, Fred Pohl accepted it on March 25, 1940 and it appeared in the September 1940 issue of Super Science Stories, which he edited. Fred Pohl, being Fred Pohl, changed the title to “Strange Playfellow” but I changed it back when I included it in my book I, Robot and it has appeared as “Robbie” in every subsequent incarnation.

  Aside from being my first robot story, “Robbie” is significant because in it George Weston says to his wife in defense of a robot that is fulfilling the role of nursemaid, “He just can't help being faithful and loving and kind. He's a machine- madeso.”This is the first indication, in my first story, of what eventually became the “First Law of Robotics” and of the basic fact that robots were made with built-in safety rules.

  2. “Reason”-”Robbie” would have meant nothing in itself, if I had written no more robot stories, particularly since it appeared in one of the minor magazines. However, I wrote a second robot story, “Reason,” and that one, John Campbell liked. After a bit of revision, it appeared in the April 1941 issue of Astounding Science Fiction and there it attracted notice. Readers became aware that there was such a thing as the “positronic robots,” and so did Campbell. That made everything afterward possible.

  3. “Liar!”-In the very next issue of Astounding, that of May 1941, my third robot story, “Liar!” appeared. The importance of this story was that it introduced Susan Calvin, who became the central character in my early robot stories. This story was originally rather clumsily done, largely because it dealt with the relationship between the sexes at a time when I had not yet had my first date with a young lady. Fortunately, I'm a quick learner and it is one story in which I made significant changes before allowing it to appear in I, Robot.

  4. “Runaround”-The next important robot story appeared in the March 1942 issue of Astounding. It was the first story in which I listed the Three Laws of Robotics explicitly instead of making them implicit. In it, I have one character, Gregory Powell, say to another, Michael Donovan, “Now, look, let's start with the three fundamental Rules of Robotics-the three rules that are built most deeply into a robot's positronic brain.” He then recites them.

  Later on, I called them the Laws of Robotics, and their importance to me is three-fold.

  a-They guided me in forming my plots and made it possible to write many short stories, and several novels in addition, based on robots. In these, I constantly studied the consequences of the Three Laws;

  b-It was by all odds my most famous literary invention, quoted in season and out by others. If all I have written is someday to be forgotten, the Three Laws of Robotics will surely be the last to go;

  c- The passage in “Runaround” quoted above happens to be the very first time the word “robotics” was used in print in the English language. I am therefore credited with the invention of the word (and also “robotic,”

  “positronic” and “psychohistory”) by the Oxford English Dictionary, which takes the trouble-and the space-to quote the Three Laws. (All these things were created by my 22nd birthday and I seem to have created nothing since, which gives rise to grievous thoughts within me.)

  5. “Evidence”-This was the one and only story I wrote while I spent 8 months and 26 days in the army. At one point I persuaded a kindly librarian to let me remain in the locked library over lunch so that I could work on the story. It is the first story in which I made use of a humanoid robot. Stephen Byerley, the humanoid robot in question (though in the story I don't make it absolutely clear whether he is a robot or not) represents my first approach toward R. Daneel Olivaw, the humaniform robot who appears in a number of my novels. “Evidence” appeared in the September 1946 issue of Astounding Science Fiction.

  6. “Little Lost Robot”-My robots tend to be benign entities. In fact, as the stories progressed they gradually gained in moral and ethical qualities until they far surpassed human beings and, in the case of Daneel, approached the god-like. Nevertheless, I had no intention of limiting myself to robots as saviors. I followed wherever the wild winds of my imagination led me and I was quite capable of seeing the uncomfortable sides of the robot phenomena.

  It was only a few weeks ago (as I write this) that I received a letter from a reader that scolded me because, in a robot story of mine that had just been published, I showed the dangerous side of robots. He accused me of a failure of nerve.

  That he was wrong is shown by “Little Lost Robot,” in which a robot is the villain, even though it appeared nearly half a century ago. The seamy side of robots is not the result of a failure in nerve that comes of my advancing age and decrepitude. It has been a constant concern of mine all through my career.

  7. “The Evitable Conflict”-This was a sequel to “Evidence” and appeared in the June 1950 issue of Astounding. It was the first story I wrote that dealt primarily with computers (1 called them “Machines” in the story) rather than with robots per se. The difference is not a great one. You might define a robot as a “computerized machine” or as a “mobile computer.” You might consider a computer as an “immobile robot.” In any case, I clearly did not distinguish between the two, and although the Machines, which don't make an actual physical appearance in the story, are clearly computers, I included the story, without hesitation, in my robot collection, I, Robot, and neither the publisher nor the readers objected. To be sure, Stephen Byerley is in the story but the question of his roboticity plays no role.

  8. “Franchise”-This was the first story in which I dealt with computers as computers, and had no thought in mind of their being robots. It appeared in the August 1955 issue of If: Worlds of Science Fiction, and by that time I had grown familiar with the existence of computers. My computer is “Multivac,” designed as an obviously larger and more complex version of the actually existing “Univac.” In this story, and in some others of the period that dealt with Multivac, I described it as an enormously large machine, missing the chance of predicting the miniaturization and etherealization of computers.

  9. “The Last Question”-My imagination didn't betray me for long, however. In “The Last Question,” which appeared first in the November 1956 issue of Science Fiction Quarterly, I discussed the miniaturization and etherealization of computers and followed it through a trillion years of evolution (of both computer and man) to a logical conclusion that you will have to read the story to find. It is, beyond question, my favorite among all the stories I have written in my career.

  10. “The Feeling of Power”-The miniaturization of computers played a small role as a side issue in this story. It appeared in the February 1958 issue of If, and is also one of my favorites. In this story I dealt with pocket computers, which were not to make their appearance in the marketplace until ten to fifteen years after the story appeared. Moreover, it was one of the stories in which I foresaw accurately a social implication of technologic
al advance rather than the technological advance itself.

  The story deals with the possible loss of ability to do simple arithmetic through the perpetual use of computers.I wrote it as a satire that combined humor with passages of bitter irony, but I wrote more truly than I knew. These days I have a pocket computer and I begrudge the time and effort it would take me to subtract 182 from 854. I use the darned computer. “The Feeling of Power” is one of the most frequently anthologized of my stories.

  In a way, this story shows the negative side of computers, and in this period I also wrote stories that showed the possible vengeful reactions of computers or robots that are mistreated. For computers, there is “Someday,” which appeared in the August 1956 issue of Infinity Science Fiction, and for robots (in automobile form) see “Sally,” which appeared in the May-June 1953 issue of Fantastic.

  11. “Feminine Intuition”-My robots are almost always masculine, though not necessarily in an actual sense of gender. After all, I give them masculine names and refer to them as “he.” At the suggestion of a female editor, Judy-Lynn del Rey, I wrote “Feminine Intuition,” which appeared in the October 1969 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. It showed, for one thing, that I could do a feminine robot, too. She was still metal, but she had a narrower waistline than my usual robots and had a feminine voice, too. Later on, in my book Robots and Empire, there was a Chapter in which a humanoid female robot made her appearance. She played a villainous role, which might surprise those who know of my frequently displayed admiration of the female half of humanity.

  12. “The Bicentennial Man”-This story, which first appeared in 1976 in a paperback anthology of original science fiction, stellar #2, edited by Judy-Lynn del Rey, was my most thoughtful exposition of the development of robots. It followed them in an entirely different direction from that in “The Last Question.” What it dealt with was the desire of a robot to become a man and the way in which he carried out that desire, step by step. Again, I carried the plot all the way to its logical conclusion. I had no intention of writing this story when I started it. It wrote itself, and turned and twisted in the typewriter. It ended as the third favorite of mine among all my stories. Ahead of it come only “The Last Question,” mentioned above, and “The Ugly Little Boy,” which is not a robot story.

  13. The Caves of Steel -Meanwhile, at the suggestion of Horace L. Gold, editor of Galaxy, I had written a robot novel. I had resisted doing so at first for I felt that my robot ideas only fit the short story length. Gold, however, suggested I write a murder mystery dealing with a robot detective. I followed it partway. My detective was a thoroughly human Elijah Baley (perhaps the most attractive character I ever invented, in my opinion) but he had a robot sidekick, R. Daneel Olivaw. The book, I felt, was the perfect fusion of mystery and science fiction. It appeared as a three-part serial in the October, November, and December 1953 issues of Galaxy and Doubleday published it as a novel in 1954.

  What surprised me about the book was the reaction of the readers. While they approved of Lije Baley, their obvious interest was entirely with Daneel, whom I had viewed as a mere subsidiary character. The approval was particularly intense in the case of the women who wrote to me. (Thirteen years after I had invented Daneel, the television series Star Trek came out, with Mr. Spock resembling Daneel quite closely in character-something which did not bother me-and I noticed that women viewers were particularly interested in him, too. I won't pretend to analyze this.)

  14. The Naked Sun - thepopularity of Lije and Daneel led me to write a sequel, “The Naked Sun,” which appeared as a three-part serial in the October, November, and December 1956 issues of Astounding and was published as a novel by Doubleday in 1957. Naturally, the repetition of the success made a third novel seem the logical thing to do. I even started writing it in 1958, but things got in the way and, what with one thing and another, it didn't get written till 1983.

  15. The Robots of Dawn - This ,the third novel of the Lije Baley/R. Daneel series, was published by Doubleday in 1983. In it, I introduced a second robot, R. Giskard Reventlov, and this time I was not surprised when he turned out to be as popular as Daneel.

  16. Robots and Empire - Whenit was necessary to allow Lije Baley to die (of old age), I felt I would have no problem in doing a fourth book in the series provided I allowed Daneel to live. The fourth book, Robots and Empire, was published by Doubleday in 1985. Lije's death brought some reaction, but nothing at all compared to the storm of regretful letters I received when the exigencies of the plot made it necessary for R. Giskard to die.

  So it turns out that my robot stories have been almost as successful as my Foundation books, and if you want to know the truth (in a whisper, of course, and please keep this confidential), I like my robot stories better.

  Here, in Renegade, Cordell Scot ten has written an excellent example of why I like the robot stories. A simple question arising from the Laws-”What is good for humans?”-is developed into a complex and intriguing story.

  Chapter 1. The Ceremyons

  Gently soaring-basking under the sun-the two blackbodies circled far above the shimmering atmospheric irregularity that was nearing completion on the planet's surface. As high as a small mountain, the iridescent transparency, viewed from outside, covered a smooth hemispherical excavation in the planet's surface two kilometers in diameter, except for an open pie cut, a not-yet-covered sector ten degrees wide. Looking into the open sector, structures-built on ground not excavated, paradoxically -covered the entire inner area. The most striking of these structures was a tall, stepped pyramid centered under the dome.

  The blackbodies floated a wingspread apart, five times the armspread of an Avery robot. Those beings-the Avery robots-were even then streaming out of the incomplete sector, evacuating the dome. The blackbodies had learned the name “Avery robot,” but the name lacked meaning beyond its intonation.

  “The construction was slowed by your absence yesterday, Sarco,” one blackbody said to the other, “and I thank you for that. You needed the day off. Unfortunately, the effort was only slowed. It would have benefited by a complete interruption.”

  “You are a rascal,” the other said, his red eyes gleaming like bumming embers set deep in a black demonic body. “I'll bet you arranged for an Avery to cut me loose during tether last night. At least they've learned not to blow us up.”

  The blackbodies appeared identical in form: a large white hook protruding from above deep-set, luminous red eyes; a lacy silver frond languidly waving at the other end; but bodies otherwise devoid of visible detail except as flying winged silhouettes. Wrinkles in the skin, if any, and other possible lines of demarcation were lost in the soft blackness.

  “You were cut loose?” the first said.

  “Don't play the innocent, Synapo. Someone cut my tether last night, and by the time I drifted into sunrise, I was over Barneup. It took me all day to get back. Have you ever tried to grow a new hook while underway?”

  “You do look a little beat. But then so am I. Trying to make sense of Wohler-9 is exhausting, and so far he's the best of the Averies. I learned very little today. We could both do with early tether. I'll see you in the morning, Sarco.”

  “Wait up! You're not getting off that easy.”

  But Synapo had already balled and was dropping, if not like a rock, still at an appreciable rate that put him out of earshot in a trice. Sarco sighed-a soft gentle emission of pure oxygen with a faint trace of unreacted ammonia-but did not follow immediately.

  As Synapo approached the surface of the planet, he began braking, unfurling from his collar the tough filmy hide of his reflector, letting it flap and rattle in his wake as it dragged at him like a sea anchor. As he neared the trees on the side of the domed transparency away from the open sector, he sealed the gores of the thin, shiny reflector, sealing all but his head inside, leaving his hook and eyes protruding from the underside.

  With gentle bursts of compressed hydrogen, he began to inflate the reflector, dissipati
ng his momentum and slowing his descent until he was barely drifting downward. Ten meters above the top of a tall conifer, he let go his chitinous hook, letting out the tether of tough, stringy hide until the hook was dangling below a sturdy limb. A final burst of hydrogen filled the reflector, erasing the last crease to leave a smooth, unblemished, mirrorlike surface. The tether twanged taut, caught between the now buoyant silvery balloon and the hooked limb of the tree.

  Synapo began the luxurious process of uncoiling his tense fibers, drifting into deep tether as he lay suspended within his own skin. His storage cells were not sated with a day's thermoelectric output from the sun's radiant heat as they normally would have been if the aliens had not been disturbing the atmosphere; but little of the radiation he had been exposed to that day had escaped the nearly perfect blackbody absorption of his other skin. That energy was all there, save only the small expenditure for intense thought and languid motion, and the large expenditure for electrolyzing water and compressing hydrogen; and the unusual expenditure that day to converse-if it could be called that-with Wohler-9. Still, he had a sufficient reserve of juice left in his cells. It would take little to get him through the night, just that amount needed to maintain body temperature, to make up for the minuscule amount of energy lost by radiation from his silvery hide.

  Sarco stayed aloft until Synapo tethered. Then he balled and dropped and tethered nearby so as to confront Synapo the next morning, first thing.

  The Avery robots continued to stream from the open sector of the dome like ants abandoning an anthill. Dusk was coming on rapidly, but night would not hamper their operations.

  Wohler-9 stood just outside the open sector. He had watched Synapo and Sarco drop, but had not distinguished them from the rest of the blackbodies which, a half-hour later, began to fall from the sky like the gentle descent of a black snow that melted to bright raindrops as it neared the surface, raindrops inversely and miraculously suspended above the trees in defiance of gravity.