I have imagined what it would be like to be Omnius. What far-reaching decisions might I make in his position?
— Erasmus Dialogues
The independent robot stood in one of the expanded art exhibit rooms of the Central Spire, awaiting an audience. Though the evermind could speak with him anywhere, Omnius seemed particularly intent on making sure Erasmus saw his new gallery. All the bizarre electronic paintings, sculptures, and geometrical jewel-forms were horrendously derivative and uninspired. Omnius seemed to think he grew more and more talented through sheer quantity of production.
It had only grown worse once the three near-identical but separate incarnations of the evermind had begun to “collaborate.”
Working in concert, the three Omniuses had created jarring juxtapositions of bright colors and random jagged shapes, stylized renditions of mechanical contrivances accompanied by dissonant, synthesized music. No aesthetic harmony whatsoever.
Leaving the exhibits as swiftly as he could, the platinum robot picked up a black guidance cube from a wall-mounted tray. The cube lit up, verified his identity, and then showed the robot which direction to go. No pathway was ever the same through the Central Spire, since the flowmetal building was constantly being changed as Omnius vented his creative urges.
Following red arrows on the surface of the cube, Erasmus entered a large chamber and rode a conveyor floor that spiraled up seventy stories. The independent robot grew weary of the endless and unnecessary variations.
As Erasmus entered the top level of the Spire, he found the three Omnius incarnations in the midst of an unemotional but involved and focused discussion. In human psychology the situation might have been described as a multiple-personality disorder. The primary Omnius attempted to remain dominant, while the copies brought to Corrin by Yorek Thurr and Seurat had developed different perspectives. The trio of everminds attempted to cooperate as one electronic unit, but by now their differences had become too severe. Though they could easily have linked and merged, the three remained separated, speaking to each other only through black speaker holes positioned around the flowmetal chamber.
“I am here at the appointed time,” Erasmus said, attempting to call attention to his arrival. “Omnius requested my presence.” One of you did.
The out-of-phase everminds paid no attention to their visitor, not even when Erasmus repeated himself. Previously, for his own amusement, he had created nicknames for the other two everminds, just as he called Gilbertus “Mentat,” or as Omnius Prime used the derisive “Martyr” to refer to the independent robot after his supposed resurrection from total erasure. In his mind, Erasmus had dubbed Seurat’s gelsphere update “SeurOm,” and the one Thurr had delivered from Wallach IX, “ThurrOm.” Just listening to them, the independent robot could distinguish among the three by subtleties of tone and attitude, and by the information they used to support their arguments.
The Omniuses were concerned about being trapped on Corrin, but could not agree on what to do about it. The abortive offensive maneuver ThurrOm had launched, after being tricked by Yorek Thurr, had led to the destruction of over four hundred major robot ships, while doing little damage to the hrethgir watchdogs. All in all, though Thurr himself had escaped, the flurry had accomplished nothing for Omnius, and had only made the human sentries more vigilant.
As he listened to their flat but rapid-fire debate, Erasmus saw that some of their postulates were illogical and demonstrated a thorough lack of understanding of human responses and priorities. Apparently even Omnius Prime did not consult with the inner reservoir of knowledge and insight that would have been accessible in the isolated copy of Erasmus’s persona. The three copies had grown more extreme in their conclusions and less flexible. The robot would have liked to correct them, but these new diversified everminds would not listen to him.
The trio agreed on some things. They knew it was unwise to keep the only copies of the evermind on Corrin. Omnius Prime advocated an electronic escape, transmitting a normalized copy of the vast computer mind far out into space, a stream of data in search of an appropriate target. ThurrOm pointed out that there were no known receivers for such a data package, and with distance the signal would only grow more diffuse and dwindle to oblivion. A pointless expenditure of energy and effort.
The Seurat Omnius insisted on a more tangible option. SeurOm wanted to colonize twenty or more Unallied Planets. As soon as the thinking machines anchored their new outpost, the resurrected Omniuses could proceed to additional planets, thereby regenerating the Synchronized empire. He blithely presumed they could find a way to escape the deadly scrambler net, but did not explain how that might be accomplished.
As if his violent appetite had been whetted by his first independent offensive, ThurrOm advocated sending their entire machine fleet against the guardian human ships. He wanted to accept overwhelming losses and hope that some part of the machine battle fleet survived. If they failed, however, then the fanatical hrethgir could bombard all of Corrin with their pulse-atomic warheads and exterminate the last vestiges of the computer evermind. ThurrOm admitted that this could be a problem.
All of the plans had a vanishingly small chance of success. It intrigued Erasmus to see how much trouble the primary Omnius was having in his bizarre argument with the subsidiary incarnations.
Month after month, the robotic ships continued their regular attacks by throwing themselves against the scrambler net and the League barricades— consequently suffering predictable waves of destruction. For more than nineteen years, Omnius had strip-mined Corrin, ripping metals and raw materials from the crust, then recycling and reprocessing. By now, the planet was nearly wrung dry. Some of the rare elements and molecules necessary for creating sophisticated gelcircuitry minds had become difficult to obtain. The production of replacement warships had slowed. Erasmus projected that their stronghold would soon become vulnerable simply due to the constant attrition of their forces.
He had to find a solution— for himself and Gilbertus, at the very least— before that occurred.
For years now, Erasmus had considered many possible methods of escape. Far from Corrin, he and Gilbertus could devote themselves to mental pursuits without the interference and distractions of the increasingly eccentric evermind.
The independent robot had left his ward back at the villa, where Gilbertus continued to explore a difficult intellectual puzzle with the Serena Butler clone at his side. The muscular and well-trained human could follow serpentine pathways in his brain, extrapolating fiftieth-order variables and consequences. For years now, he had been able to memorize every detail of his daily experiences, keeping everything organized and retrievable in his brain.
Attempting to get the attention of the everminds while they steadfastly ignored him, Erasmus began to hammer his metal fist against the wall, reenacting behavior he had witnessed from Gilbertus when he’d been an unruly young boy. “I am here. What is it you demanded to discuss with me?”
The robot considered hurling his directional cube at the floor, but instead held it tighter in his flowmetal palm. It was only simulated anger, but this seemed like a good opportunity to explore the humanlike emotions he had learned.
The three harmonized voices commanded in unison, “Stop being impatient, Erasmus. You are acting like a hrethgir.”
The robot thought of several excellent retorts but decided against voicing them. Instead, he placed the inactive directional cube on the floor. The flowmetal surface of the deck swallowed the cube, then smoothed over again like a puddle of water around a dropped stone.
The Omniuses resumed their debate.
Suddenly Rekur Van entered the room, pushed by an armed robot guard, who also held a directional cube. “It is time for my appointment!” the limbless man said, raising his voice to be heard over the escalating argument.
“I have precedence, Stump,” Erasmus said with no rancor, amplifying his words to an appropriate relative level.
The voices of the three everminds still sounded unemotional in the background, but the synthesized signals among them grew increasingly louder, reverberating around the chamber with such force that the floor shook and rattled. The three Omniuses accused each other of inefficiency and fallibility, casting blame back and forth. The debate continued faster and faster as Erasmus and Rekur Van eavesdropped, with growing curiosity and alarm. Finally it became clear that Omnius Prime had convinced himself that he was the one true God of the Universe; according to his analyses and the projections Erasmus had performed for him, he decided that he fit the definition. He held ultimate knowledge and ultimate power.
“I declare the two of you false gods,” Omnius Prime boomed suddenly.
“I am not a false god,” SeurOm said.
“Nor am I,” ThurrOm insisted.
Such a strange trinity. It seemed ironic that Omnius, who had so roundly criticized the emotionally charged religions of human beings, now embraced a religious belief system of his own, with a thinking machine at its pinnacle.
Without warning, the trio of everminds reached a critical flashpoint. The room filled with a storm of multicolored electronic flashes, firing from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. Erasmus managed to scramble smoothly out of the way, retreating onto the entry ramp, from which he watched as the chamber lit up.
A bright yellow blast excoriated Rekur Van’s robot guard, and the limbless Tlulaxa screamed as sharp pieces of metal tore into his flesh. His life-support cart tipped over and fell across his smoking companion robot.
With great disappointment, Erasmus recalled that Rekur Van had been working on the shape-shifting biological machine project. He’d had so much potential.
The chamber grew suddenly silent. Presently, ominously, one of the everminds spoke. “Now there are two of us to rule.”
“As it should be,” said the other. “Neither one of us is a false god.”
So, Omnius Prime had been obliterated in the electronic battle. The primary evermind that Erasmus had known for so many years on Corrin existed no more. The walls began to ripple and shudder, and he worried that the entire Central Spire might collapse or change shape, with him inside it.
To his surprise, Rekur Van moaned and began to squirm helplessly. Hurrying to his aid— strictly to preserve a valuable resource— Erasmus scooped the Tlulaxa and his cart into his metal arms and exited the writhing Spire. No sooner had they reached the safety of the plaza than the structure dramatically changed shape behind them, as the new evermind rulers exerted their combined will. The tower grew taller and spinier.
“This is quite unexpected, and interesting,” Erasmus said. “The everminds appear to have gone insane.”
The helpless Tlulaxa man turned his burned face to look at the bizarre convulsions of Omnius’s primary structure. “We might be better off taking our chances with the hrethgir.”