times, then said, "Regarding the patients, none at present. But I'm hungry — will you get me something to eat?"
The robot ticked at him.
"I want food," said Ross, making it simple and non-ambiguous. The robot left.
5
The first six pages of the diary were heavy going, not only because they dealt mainly with details of administration in Pellew's almost unreadable writing, but because they were dated only a few months after Ross had gone into Deep Sleep and so contained no information likely to help in his present situation. He began cheating a little, skipping five, seven, twenty pages ahead. He read:
Communications ceased with Section F two hours ago and we have not been able to raise the others for over a week. For purposes of morale I have suggested that this may be due to broken lines caused by the earth tremors, which have been felt even down here. I have ordered the maintenance robots to slot heavy metal girders across the elevator shaft so as to make it impossible for anyone to take the cage up. There are still a few shortsighted, quixotic fools who want to form a rescue party…
Ross remembered an instructional circular from last night which had begun, "During the Emergency…" Apparently this part of the diary dealt with that Emergency, but he had skipped too far ahead. He was turning the pages back slowly when the robot arrived with six food cans.
He opened one and set it on the empty ashtray so as not to mark Pellew's desk. When he went back to the ledger the large, stiff pages had risen up and rolled past his place. Ross inserted his finger and flattened a page at random. It said:
I took Courtland out of hibernation last week. In his present condition he will live only a few months so I have as good as killed him. The fact that he has told me several times that he doesn't mind only makes me feel worse — his bravery pointing up my cowardice. But I need help, and he was one of the best cyberneticists of his time. He is working on a modification of our Mark 5 Ward Sisters for me.
I wanted a robot with judgment and initiative and the Mark 5B seems to have those qualities. Courtland insists that it hasn't, that he has merely increased its data-storage capacity, increased its ability to cross-index this memory data, and made some other changes which I can't begin to understand. It does NOT have a sense of humor, but only gives this impression because it takes everything it is told literally. Despite all he says, Courtland is very proud of this new robot — he calls it Bea — and says that if he had proper facilities, or even a few more months of life, he could do great things.
I think he has done great things already. If only Ross can carry on. It will be his problem soon.
Ross felt his scalp begin to prickle. Seeing his own name staring up at him had been a shock, but what was the problem mentioned?
"How long since you talked to Dr. Pellew?" he asked the robot suddenly.
"Twenty-three years and fifteen days, sir."
"Oh, as long ago as that. When is he due to be awakened?"
The robot began to tick.
"That is a simple question!" began Ross angrily, then stopped. Maybe it wasn't a simple question, maybe… "Is Pellew dead?"
"Yes, sir."
Ross swallowed. He said, "How many, both patients and staff, are left?"
"One, sir. You."
He had been hungry and had meant to eat. Ross began spooning the contents of the food can into his mouth, trying to pretend that it had not happened. Or maybe these were the blind involuntary movements of a body which has died and does not yet realize it. Pellew was dead, Alice was dead, Hanson, everyone. Claustrophobia was something which normally had not bothered Ross, but now suddenly he wanted out. Everyone he knew — and so far as his mind was concerned, he had known and spoken to them only two days ago — was dead and buried, most of them for hundreds of
The robot ticked at him.
"I want food," said Ross, making it simple and non-ambiguous. The robot left.
5
The first six pages of the diary were heavy going, not only because they dealt mainly with details of administration in Pellew's almost unreadable writing, but because they were dated only a few months after Ross had gone into Deep Sleep and so contained no information likely to help in his present situation. He began cheating a little, skipping five, seven, twenty pages ahead. He read:
Communications ceased with Section F two hours ago and we have not been able to raise the others for over a week. For purposes of morale I have suggested that this may be due to broken lines caused by the earth tremors, which have been felt even down here. I have ordered the maintenance robots to slot heavy metal girders across the elevator shaft so as to make it impossible for anyone to take the cage up. There are still a few shortsighted, quixotic fools who want to form a rescue party…
Ross remembered an instructional circular from last night which had begun, "During the Emergency…" Apparently this part of the diary dealt with that Emergency, but he had skipped too far ahead. He was turning the pages back slowly when the robot arrived with six food cans.
He opened one and set it on the empty ashtray so as not to mark Pellew's desk. When he went back to the ledger the large, stiff pages had risen up and rolled past his place. Ross inserted his finger and flattened a page at random. It said:
I took Courtland out of hibernation last week. In his present condition he will live only a few months so I have as good as killed him. The fact that he has told me several times that he doesn't mind only makes me feel worse — his bravery pointing up my cowardice. But I need help, and he was one of the best cyberneticists of his time. He is working on a modification of our Mark 5 Ward Sisters for me.
I wanted a robot with judgment and initiative and the Mark 5B seems to have those qualities. Courtland insists that it hasn't, that he has merely increased its data-storage capacity, increased its ability to cross-index this memory data, and made some other changes which I can't begin to understand. It does NOT have a sense of humor, but only gives this impression because it takes everything it is told literally. Despite all he says, Courtland is very proud of this new robot — he calls it Bea — and says that if he had proper facilities, or even a few more months of life, he could do great things.
I think he has done great things already. If only Ross can carry on. It will be his problem soon.
Ross felt his scalp begin to prickle. Seeing his own name staring up at him had been a shock, but what was the problem mentioned?
"How long since you talked to Dr. Pellew?" he asked the robot suddenly.
"Twenty-three years and fifteen days, sir."
"Oh, as long ago as that. When is he due to be awakened?"
The robot began to tick.
"That is a simple question!" began Ross angrily, then stopped. Maybe it wasn't a simple question, maybe… "Is Pellew dead?"
"Yes, sir."
Ross swallowed. He said, "How many, both patients and staff, are left?"
"One, sir. You."
He had been hungry and had meant to eat. Ross began spooning the contents of the food can into his mouth, trying to pretend that it had not happened. Or maybe these were the blind involuntary movements of a body which has died and does not yet realize it. Pellew was dead, Alice was dead, Hanson, everyone. Claustrophobia was something which normally had not bothered Ross, but now suddenly he wanted out. Everyone he knew — and so far as his mind was concerned, he had known and spoken to them only two days ago — was dead and buried, most of them for hundreds of
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