Maximillian and my other robots are programmed not only to react against aggression but to prevent it."
"I assure you," said Durant hastily, "nothing of the sort was intended."
"I still don't see why, once you saw who we were, you directed the automatic guards in reception to disarm us," Holland said.
"Captain Holland, I have already explained that I saw what you were but not who you were. Your state of mind could not be scanned. For all I knew, you were a punitive expedition sent out specifically on the word of surviving malcontents among the Cygnus 's crew to kill me.
"Nonetheless, I did not direct the sentry machines in reception to disarm you. You yourself just said they were automatic, and so they are. They responded, I believe, to your brandishing of weapons."
"That's a normal reaction for a group entering a strange, non-communicative vessel."
"And disarmament was the reception room's normal reaction to your display of guns. Both you and the reception-area brain reacted, if you'll pardon the analogy, to similar programming. I have often said that the differences between man and machine are superficial."
"I'd still like my pistol back," Pizer repeated, unmollified.
"Your property will be returned to you in good time, Mr. Pizer. Until then, I must insist for your own safety that it remain secured . . . lest you lose your apparently considerable temper and induce some slow-thinking mechanical to violence.
"As to your boarding with weapons showing, were I a military man I would be most suspicious. However, I am a scientist, so I understand." He finished with an expansive smile. "Rest assured you are not prisoners. You're my guests, the first it has been my pleasure to entertain in quite a few years."
As Reinhardt turned to speak to McCrae, Pizer moved next to Holland and leaned over to whisper to him. "There's a whole army of those things on board," he declared with a gesture back at the elevator, "and nobody told them we're guests."
"Take it easy, Charlie. Everything Reinhardt's said about the way we've been treated so far is reasonable. Not nice, but reasonable. Let's give the old boy the benefit of the doubt until he gives us stronger reasons to believe he's something other than what he claims to be. Besides, we haven't any choice."
Reinhardt was still talking mostly to McCrae when Holland interrupted him. "We won't impose on your hospitality, Doctor. Well require some minor spare parts. Our trouble's with our atmospheric regeneration system. If you can help us out, we can manage the repairs ourselves."
"And then we can offer you the means of returning to Earth, Doctor." Durant eyed him respectfully. "In something less than three hundred years. As to your reception, I wouldn't be overly concerned. In the years you've spent out here you must have learned much that is new. You'll be warmly greeted on your return, sir."
"That is a matter of difference between you and your friend Mr. Booth," Reinhardt replied matter-of-factly. "What makes you think I want to return, Dr. Durant?"
After a long moment of stunned silence, Durant spoke again, trying not to sound patronizing. "Sir, I understand your feelings about the Cygnus and the possibility of an, ah, ambivalent reception back on Earth. Believe me, I sympathize. You seem to have made your peace with the Universe out here." He indicated the dim silhouettes working steadily at the far consoles, then the hovering mass of the robot Maximillian.
"You also seem to have forged a workable relationship with your companions, who all will outlive you. But surely you realize that no matter how comfortable you have managed to make yourself, the Cygnus is in constant danger of being swallowed up and destroyed by that." He pointed to the magnificent image of the black hole on the main viewscreen off to one side.
Reinhardt seemed less than somber. In fact, he appeared amused by Durant's concern. "Ah, yes, your captain was worried about that, too. There is no cause for
"I assure you," said Durant hastily, "nothing of the sort was intended."
"I still don't see why, once you saw who we were, you directed the automatic guards in reception to disarm us," Holland said.
"Captain Holland, I have already explained that I saw what you were but not who you were. Your state of mind could not be scanned. For all I knew, you were a punitive expedition sent out specifically on the word of surviving malcontents among the Cygnus 's crew to kill me.
"Nonetheless, I did not direct the sentry machines in reception to disarm you. You yourself just said they were automatic, and so they are. They responded, I believe, to your brandishing of weapons."
"That's a normal reaction for a group entering a strange, non-communicative vessel."
"And disarmament was the reception room's normal reaction to your display of guns. Both you and the reception-area brain reacted, if you'll pardon the analogy, to similar programming. I have often said that the differences between man and machine are superficial."
"I'd still like my pistol back," Pizer repeated, unmollified.
"Your property will be returned to you in good time, Mr. Pizer. Until then, I must insist for your own safety that it remain secured . . . lest you lose your apparently considerable temper and induce some slow-thinking mechanical to violence.
"As to your boarding with weapons showing, were I a military man I would be most suspicious. However, I am a scientist, so I understand." He finished with an expansive smile. "Rest assured you are not prisoners. You're my guests, the first it has been my pleasure to entertain in quite a few years."
As Reinhardt turned to speak to McCrae, Pizer moved next to Holland and leaned over to whisper to him. "There's a whole army of those things on board," he declared with a gesture back at the elevator, "and nobody told them we're guests."
"Take it easy, Charlie. Everything Reinhardt's said about the way we've been treated so far is reasonable. Not nice, but reasonable. Let's give the old boy the benefit of the doubt until he gives us stronger reasons to believe he's something other than what he claims to be. Besides, we haven't any choice."
Reinhardt was still talking mostly to McCrae when Holland interrupted him. "We won't impose on your hospitality, Doctor. Well require some minor spare parts. Our trouble's with our atmospheric regeneration system. If you can help us out, we can manage the repairs ourselves."
"And then we can offer you the means of returning to Earth, Doctor." Durant eyed him respectfully. "In something less than three hundred years. As to your reception, I wouldn't be overly concerned. In the years you've spent out here you must have learned much that is new. You'll be warmly greeted on your return, sir."
"That is a matter of difference between you and your friend Mr. Booth," Reinhardt replied matter-of-factly. "What makes you think I want to return, Dr. Durant?"
After a long moment of stunned silence, Durant spoke again, trying not to sound patronizing. "Sir, I understand your feelings about the Cygnus and the possibility of an, ah, ambivalent reception back on Earth. Believe me, I sympathize. You seem to have made your peace with the Universe out here." He indicated the dim silhouettes working steadily at the far consoles, then the hovering mass of the robot Maximillian.
"You also seem to have forged a workable relationship with your companions, who all will outlive you. But surely you realize that no matter how comfortable you have managed to make yourself, the Cygnus is in constant danger of being swallowed up and destroyed by that." He pointed to the magnificent image of the black hole on the main viewscreen off to one side.
Reinhardt seemed less than somber. In fact, he appeared amused by Durant's concern. "Ah, yes, your captain was worried about that, too. There is no cause for
Similar Books
