literature. Ultimately, he wanted to discover the sum and substance of humanity, the magic spark that made these creatures, these creators , different. What gave them . . . souls?
He marched into his banquet hall, and the flying eye buzzed away toward the ceiling, where it could observe everything. On the walls, six Omnius screens glowed milky gray.
His villa was modeled after the opulent Greco-Roman estates in which the Twenty Titans had lived before forsaking their human bodies. Erasmus owned similar villas on five planets, including Corrin and Earth. He maintained additional facilities— holding pens, customized vivisection rooms, medical laboratories, as well as greenhouses, art galleries, sculptures, and fountains. All of which enabled him to study human behavior and physiology.
Erasmus sat his robed body at the head of a long table lined with silver goblets and candleholders, but with only one place setting. For him. The antique wooden chair had once belonged to a human nobleman, Nivny O’Mura, a founder of the League of Nobles. Erasmus had studied how the rebellious humans had organized themselves and established strongholds against the early cymek and machine assaults. The resourceful hrethgir had ways of adapting and improvising, of confounding their enemies in unexpected ways. Fascinating .
Abruptly, the evermind’s voice echoed from all around, sounding bored. “When will your experiment be concluded, Erasmus? You come in here day after day, doing the same thing. I expect to see results.”
“I am intrigued by questions. Why do wealthy humans eat with such ceremony? Why do they consider certain foods and beverages superior to others, when the nutritional value is the same?” The robot’s voice became more erudite. “The answer, Omnius, has to do with their brutally short lives. They compensate with efficient sensory mechanisms capable of imparting intense feelings. Humans have five basic senses, with countless gradations. The taste of Yondair beer versus Ularda wine, for example. Or the feel of Ecaz burlap compared with parasilk, or the music of Brahms versus—”
“I suppose that is all very interesting in some esoteric way.”
“Of course, Omnius. You continue to study me while I study humans.” Erasmus signaled the slaves who peered nervously through a porthole in the door to the villa’s kitchen. A probe snaked out of a module at Erasmus’s hip and emerged from underneath his robe, waving delicate neurelectronic sensor threads like expectant cobras.
“By tolerating your investigations, Erasmus, I expect that you will develop a detailed model that can reliably predict human behavior. I must know how to make these creatures usable .”
White-clad slaves brought trays of food from the kitchen— Corrin game hen, Walgis beef almondine, even rare Platinum River salmon harvested from Parmentier. Erasmus dipped the weblike ends of his probe into each dish and “tasted” it, sometimes using a cutter to penetrate the meat and sample the internal juices. Erasmus documented each flavor for his growing repertoire.
All the while, he carried on a dialogue with Omnius. The evermind seemed to be doling out bits of data and watching how Erasmus reacted. “I have been building up my military forces. After many years, it is time to move again.”
“Indeed? Or are the Titans pressuring you into a more aggressive stance? For centuries, Agamemnon has been impatient with what he perceives as your lack of ambition.” Erasmus was more interested in the bitter berry tart in front of him. Analyzing the ingredients, he was puzzled to detect a strong trace of human saliva and wondered if that had been part of the original recipe. Or had one of the slaves simply expectorated into it?
“I make my own decisions,” the evermind said. “It seemed appropriate to launch a new offensive at this time.”
The head chef rolled a cart to the table and used a carving knife to cut a slab of Filet Salusa. The chef, a
He marched into his banquet hall, and the flying eye buzzed away toward the ceiling, where it could observe everything. On the walls, six Omnius screens glowed milky gray.
His villa was modeled after the opulent Greco-Roman estates in which the Twenty Titans had lived before forsaking their human bodies. Erasmus owned similar villas on five planets, including Corrin and Earth. He maintained additional facilities— holding pens, customized vivisection rooms, medical laboratories, as well as greenhouses, art galleries, sculptures, and fountains. All of which enabled him to study human behavior and physiology.
Erasmus sat his robed body at the head of a long table lined with silver goblets and candleholders, but with only one place setting. For him. The antique wooden chair had once belonged to a human nobleman, Nivny O’Mura, a founder of the League of Nobles. Erasmus had studied how the rebellious humans had organized themselves and established strongholds against the early cymek and machine assaults. The resourceful hrethgir had ways of adapting and improvising, of confounding their enemies in unexpected ways. Fascinating .
Abruptly, the evermind’s voice echoed from all around, sounding bored. “When will your experiment be concluded, Erasmus? You come in here day after day, doing the same thing. I expect to see results.”
“I am intrigued by questions. Why do wealthy humans eat with such ceremony? Why do they consider certain foods and beverages superior to others, when the nutritional value is the same?” The robot’s voice became more erudite. “The answer, Omnius, has to do with their brutally short lives. They compensate with efficient sensory mechanisms capable of imparting intense feelings. Humans have five basic senses, with countless gradations. The taste of Yondair beer versus Ularda wine, for example. Or the feel of Ecaz burlap compared with parasilk, or the music of Brahms versus—”
“I suppose that is all very interesting in some esoteric way.”
“Of course, Omnius. You continue to study me while I study humans.” Erasmus signaled the slaves who peered nervously through a porthole in the door to the villa’s kitchen. A probe snaked out of a module at Erasmus’s hip and emerged from underneath his robe, waving delicate neurelectronic sensor threads like expectant cobras.
“By tolerating your investigations, Erasmus, I expect that you will develop a detailed model that can reliably predict human behavior. I must know how to make these creatures usable .”
White-clad slaves brought trays of food from the kitchen— Corrin game hen, Walgis beef almondine, even rare Platinum River salmon harvested from Parmentier. Erasmus dipped the weblike ends of his probe into each dish and “tasted” it, sometimes using a cutter to penetrate the meat and sample the internal juices. Erasmus documented each flavor for his growing repertoire.
All the while, he carried on a dialogue with Omnius. The evermind seemed to be doling out bits of data and watching how Erasmus reacted. “I have been building up my military forces. After many years, it is time to move again.”
“Indeed? Or are the Titans pressuring you into a more aggressive stance? For centuries, Agamemnon has been impatient with what he perceives as your lack of ambition.” Erasmus was more interested in the bitter berry tart in front of him. Analyzing the ingredients, he was puzzled to detect a strong trace of human saliva and wondered if that had been part of the original recipe. Or had one of the slaves simply expectorated into it?
“I make my own decisions,” the evermind said. “It seemed appropriate to launch a new offensive at this time.”
The head chef rolled a cart to the table and used a carving knife to cut a slab of Filet Salusa. The chef, a