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"All that happened to be on the premises when they broke through. I'm here with Purplesplotch, K-9,
Honeycomb and Lightbulb. I'm not sure you know them."
"I remember Honeycomb. He was one of my AAC interviewers. That was an unforgettable "
"We demand a full-credit sabbatical term every two years," Anteater said.
"Sabbaticals! For students?" Oyster shouted back. "Our budget doesn't allow that for our instructors! If
you don't disperse this instant, though, I guarantee you'll get a term at full-labour in the University clink!
Did you fix the Jann?"
Dillingham realized with a start that the last sentence was for him, and marvelled at Oyster's aplomb in
this cross-fire dialogue. "That's what I was calling about. The Jann is "
"Hey! He's making an outside call!" another student cried. "The no-good sneak!"
"Now wait a minute," Dillingham began.
"That's Earthman!" Anteater said. "I know him. A turncoat. Schemed his way into Administration after
he'd flunked the entrance exam. Blank him off!"
"Clam chowder!" Oyster swore before Dillingham could reply. A red light flickered on the translator
chassis to signify the transmission of an obscenity. "Doctor, get back here as fast as you "
"Oooo, what you said, Director!" Anteater chided gleefully. "Did you hear that, fellows? He said
"poisoned termites"!"
"Melted ice-cream!" another student echoed wickedly. "Wash his mouth out!" Then the blah-blah of an
interference signal over-rode the transmission and Dillingham could make out no more. He was on his
own again.
He hardly had time to disconnect before the translator spoke again. "None but I..."
Oh, no!
"So you can tap into a spaceborne network too, Jann. You're pretty good for one who's been buried four
thousand years."
"I have been keeping up with developments, primitive as they are, despite mine incapacity."
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"That's how you knew my language, without a translator? You rifled my transcoder electronically before
I ever bridged your tooth?"
"Even so."
"Then why don't you employ modern slang, instead of "
"That would be out of character, mortal."
"It seems out of character to me to kill the one who tried to help you. Twice. But I'm not a Jann, so
maybe I don't properly appreciate your mores."
"I shall await thee on Hazard."
Dillingham felt distinctly uncomfortable. Even his feeble irony was wasted on the metal man, and
now "You caught a faster ship?"
"I am a faster ship."
Worse and worse. The long-range problem had become short-range again. He had assumed that
"levitation" was similar to the action of a floater, strictly dependent on adequate ambient gas i.e., air.
He had underestimated the robot.
He was tempted to ask the translator for advice, but realized that he could no longer trust it. Evidently
his prior call had enabled the Jann to trace him, and now the robot would overhear anything he said. At
worst, it might arrange to feed him false information, leading to the early fulfilment of the oath. He
could not even converse with any crewman or other passengers, since translation would be necessary.
He was boxed in, and would have to get out of it by himself. As usual.
But how? The Jann could track him whenever he used a translator or other communicator, and would be
laying in wait for the ship at Hazard.
"With abilities such as yours, how did your kind lose the war?" Dillingham inquired. Since he could not
hide from the giant, he might as well talk. There was always the chance that something useful would
turn up, that would enable him to circumvent the murder-oath. A straw but he had little else.
"I have pondered that very question for some centuries," the Jann admitted. "Unfortunately, we of the
mineral kingdom are not original thinkers, so I was unable to come to any certain conclusion."
Not original thinkers. That figured. A machine typically performed as instructed and had no
imagination. But that realization only posed more problems. How could an entire machine culture
evolve, without animate intervention? If one of its highest representatives, the Jann, could neither win a
war nor comprehend why it had lost, what was the source of its civilization?
On the other hand, was his own planet dominated by original thinkers? "Were you able to come to any
uncertain conclusions?" Dillingham asked.
"I conjectured that we Jann, being advanced and peaceful, did not properly appreciate the capacity for an
inferior species to do mischief. We believed that all robots shared our standards. So when we were
attacked "
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"I had understood that you were the aggressors."
"No, mortal. We governed the planet, and all other planets in a range of an hundred light-years, as we
had for many millenia. We had no need of violence. It was our lesser mechanicals smaller robots we
built as domestics and functionaries who rebelled. Before we fully appreciated the extent of their
dastardy, we were undone."
That was a different story from the one the contemporary robots told, yet it could be the truth. Winners
always disparaged the motives and characters of the losers. The Jann did appear to be a superior species,
and it was more likely that the Jann could build lesser robots than that the lesser ones could build Jann.
Except
"If you built the other robots, who built you?"
"We evolved, mortal. Natural selection "
"Surely you don't, well, breed? How can you evolve the way animals do?"
"I never understood how the animals perform. No tools, no charts, no preparations. Just a brief physical
contact, less even than an exchange of lubrication. Very untechnological. Quite sloppy, in fact, I once
watched "
"Never mind that. What about your own romantic life?"
There was a pause. When the Jann spoke again, its voice was subdued. "How well do I remember my
Janni, her limbs of shining platinum, her teeth of iridium... and the little one we built together, pride of
my nut and screw. My chart and hers, distinct but compatible. We knew the cross between the two
designs would generate a superior being, a machine like none before. But then the rebellion erupted, and
Janni was melted in an atomic furnace, and our son dismantled for parts for the usurper, whilst I lay
helpless in the pit..."
Dillingham did not know what to say. This Jann, far from being a mindless monster, was as meaningful
a personality as any true sentient. Were it not for that oath
Static burst from the translator. What now?
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