I have imagined what it would be like to be Omnius, and the far-reaching decisions I might make in his position.
— Erasmus Dialogues
Despite Rekur Van’s promises, the new version of Serena Butler was a great disappointment. Another accelerated clone, another misstep.
Erasmus hoped the damage to the Serena experiment was not irreparable. Using preserved cells brought as a bargaining chip when he’d fled the League, the Tlulaxa captive tried again and again to re-create the woman, but he always encountered the same problem. The smuggled cells carried only her genetic makeup— not her, not her essence. The secret wasn’t in the cells, but in the soul— as Serena might have said.
And now the limbless flesh merchant petulantly refused to tend to the other clones being grown.
Perhaps it had something to do with his frustration over the reptilian regeneration experiments. After a promising start, the bony growths on both of Rekur Van’s shoulders had fallen off, leaving infected patches of raw, oozing skin. The Tlulaxa had found this most upsetting, and his mood contributed to his failings on the Serena matter. To straighten out the mess, Erasmus adjusted medications to keep Van focused on important matters, and to give him selective amnesia. It required constant modification and attention.
I mustn’t mix experiments, the robot thought.
Now, as he faced the counterfeit Serena in his immaculate gardens, Erasmus hoped for some flicker of recognition, even fear, in her lavender eyes. Gilbertus remained dutifully at his side. “She looks exactly like all the archival images, Father,” the man pointed out.
“Appearances can be deceiving,” Erasmus said, selecting from his store of appropriate clichés. “She matches human standards of beauty, but that is insufficient. This is not… what I am looking for.”
With his perfect memory, the robot could replay every conversation he’d had with the real Serena Butler. Thus, he could relive the numerous debates they’d had during her time as his special slave on Earth. But Erasmus wanted new experiences from her, continued understanding, an appropriate counterpoint to the excellent insights he gained from Gilbertus.
No, this new Serena clone simply would not do at all.
She was as bland and uninteresting as his other human specimens, containing none of the memories and sheer stubbornness that Erasmus relished. She had been accelerated to maturity, but without the commensurate education of experiences.
“She appears equivalent to my apparent age,” Gilbertus said. Why was he so interested?
The real Serena Butler had been raised in the League of Nobles where she’d learned to believe interesting foolishness, such as her human superiority and the innate rights of freedom and love. Erasmus regretted that he had not appreciated Serena’s uniqueness as much as he should have. Now it was too late.
“You do not know me, do you?” he asked the new clone.
“You are Erasmus,” she answered, but her voice held no spark.
“I suspected that was all you would say,” he answered, knowing what he must do. He disliked having reminders of mistakes where he could see them.
“Please don’t destroy her, Father,” Gilbertus said.
The robot turned, automatically fashioning a puzzled expression on his face.
“Allow me to speak with her, teach her. Recall that when you took me from the slave pens, I was uneducated, wild, a blank slate that showed none of my potential. Perhaps with care and patience I can… salvage something.”
Suddenly Erasmus understood. “You find Serena Butler attractive!”
“I find her interesting. From what you have told me about the original Serena, would she not be a suitable companion to me? A mate perhaps?”
The robot had not expected this, but he found the new permutation of purpose intriguing. “I should have thought of that myself. Yes, my Mentat, make your best attempt.”
Studying the female clone, Gilbertus suddenly looked intimidated, as if he had accepted a challenge too large for him.
The robot gave his support. “Even if the experiment fails, I still have you, Gilbertus. I could never wish for a better test subject— or companion.”
* * *
IN ORDER TO better study human preferences, Erasmus had designed a number of muscle-enhancement machines for Gilbertus, some simple in their application and some much more difficult. Gilbertus was a perfect specimen, both physically and mentally, and Erasmus wanted to keep his ward in peak condition. Like a well-tuned machine, the human body required maintenance.
After so many extensive workout programs, Gilbertus had become a prime example of the flawless male physique. When a human used his muscular components, his strength improved; when a robot used mechanical components, they began to wear down. An odd, but fundamental difference.
While Erasmus watched, the man effortlessly ran for kilometers on a treadway while curling weights and performing upper body exercises with resistance force fields. His mind was incredibly compartmentalized to manage such a complex feat. On a typical day Gilbertus would use more than thirty grueling workout stations without much rest and only water to drink.
Since the routine was time-consuming, Erasmus said, “While you push your physical abilities, you can also be honing your mental skills, my Mentat. You should be improving your memory, practicing calculations, solving riddles.”
Gilbertus paused, breathing hard. Sweat glistened on his brown hair as he formed an expression that the robot identified as puzzlement. “I am doing exactly that, Father. While I work my body I work my mind. I go through countless calculations, projections, and equations, each of them providing new insights that are not available to common thinkers.” He paused, added, “This is what you have made me… or what I am leading you to believe that you made of me.”
“You are not capable of deceiving me. What purpose could you possibly have in doing that?”
“You have taught me humans are not to be trusted, Father, and I took your lesson to heart. I do not even trust myself.”
Gilbertus had been his ward for nearly seven decades, and Erasmus could not imagine the man might secretly turn against the thinking machines. He would have sensed an alteration in Gilbertus’s mood, and Omnius would have observed evidence of such a betrayal— his watcheyes were everywhere.
The robot worried that if Omnius ever formulated such suspicions, he would suggest that the safest course was to eliminate Gilbertus before he had a chance to cause damage. Erasmus had to make certain the evermind never experienced those doubts.
Omnius challenged me to make a feral child into an intelligent and civilized being, Erasmus thought. Gilbertus has surpassed even my most extravagant expectations. He makes me think of things I had never considered before. He makes me feel affection for him in ways I could not have conceived without him.
Gilbertus switched to performing force-field pull-ups and simultaneous lower-body exercises. As the robot watched, he recalled that Gilbertus had already expressed distaste for the deadly RNA retrovirus plague that was even now starting to spread among the League Worlds. What if he decided to help his own species… instead of Erasmus?
The situation will bear watching. The robot realized that he himself was exhibiting a very human trait himself: paranoia. Thinking is not always reality. There must be a connection, documented evidence that establishes a linkage between suspicion and fact.
A common problem that had long troubled human researchers was how an observer’s presence affected an experiment. Erasmus had long ago stopped being an objective eyewitness to Gilbertus’s progress. Did his surrogate son behave a certain way in order to prove something to his robot mentor? Were these extravagant physical exercises a way to flaunt his superiority? Was Gilbertus really more rebellious in his attitude than he revealed?
Though troubling, this line of thought was so much more complex and interesting than the bland Serena clones. Did Gilbertus intend to teach her to become his ally?
Finally, the man swung off his exercise machine, did a double back flip in the air, and landed squarely on his feet. “I was wondering, Father,” he said, hardly even breathing hard, “does using an exercise machine make me more like a machine?”
“Research that question and give me your analysis.”
“I suspect it does not have a definitive answer. We could argue it one way and another.”
“A perfect topic of discussion, then. I always enjoy our discussions.” Erasmus still had lengthy, esoteric debates with the Corrin-Omnius, but he preferred spending time with Gilbertus. On a certain level, Gilbertus was the more interesting of the two, though it would not be beneficial for Erasmus to point that out to the evermind.
The robot changed the subject. “Our surveillance probes should soon return with images showing the results of the initial plague deployment.”
Finished with his workout, Gilbertus peeled off his clothes as he strode to the shower bay. The robot scanned, analyzed, and admired the naked physique while standing far enough away to keep his plush robe from being drenched in the spray.
“Yorek Thurr will no doubt be pleased with all the death and misery,” Gilbertus said while scrubbing himself. “He enjoys being a traitor to his species. He has no conscience.”
“Machines have no conscience either. Do you consider that a failing?”
“No, Father. However, since Thurr is a human, I should be able to comprehend his behavior.” Standing in the pounding warm water, Gilbertus lathered his thick black hair. “I believe, however, that I finally know how to explain Thurr’s actions, after reading so many ancient human records.” He grinned. “Quite simply, he is crazy.”
Gilbertus rinsed his body, then shut off the water, standing cool and refreshed. “Clearly, the immortality treatment he demanded as a price for his services has made his mind unstable. Perhaps he was too old. Perhaps the operation was flawed.”
“Or perhaps I intentionally applied the treatment… inadequately,” Erasmus said, surprised that Gilbertus had come to such a subtle conclusion. “Perhaps I felt he did not deserve such a reward, and even now he does not know exactly what was done to him.” The robot’s flowmetal face formed a small grin. “Still, you must admit that his plague idea was quite good. It adequately meets our needs for victory without causing undue damage.”
“As long as some of us survive.” Gilbertus toweled off and found a clean garment waiting for him.
“Especially you. I have taught you to be extremely efficient, with a highly organized mind, able to remember and analyze facts in a computer-like fashion. If other humans could learn such skills, they might coexist better with machines.”
“Maybe I could be better than machine or man,” Gilbertus mused.
Is that what he aspires to? I shall consider his remark at length.
The two of them walked out of the exercise building.