‘like a man with answers to anything.’
The general said, ‘Perverts? Nothing like that at KUR. We run a clean company, a family business. Dedicated to the proposition that America is a family country.’ He looked at Father Warren, adding, ‘You won’t find any man wearing earrings at KUR.’
There was some uneasy audience laughter; DIMWIT winked and mugged.
Professor Waldo said, ‘We’re getting off the subject here. The point about Turing is surely not whether he attempted to fool himself in the imitation game. The point is,
Dr Dollsly said, ‘Wait a minute, what about consciousness? True intelligence needs self-awareness. You —’
The professor nodded. ‘There is another kind of test we might apply there. Michael Scriven suggested that if we wish to find out whether or not a machine is conscious, we might program the machine with all our knowledge about consciousness — all the philosophical and psychological data necessary to talk about the subject — and then we simply ask the machine: “Are you conscious?”’
‘There are certainly problems with that test,’ said Father Warren. ‘Scriven also suggests that the machine be set so that it cannot tell a lie. But then it would not have free will — and free will may well be a prerequisite for consciousness.’
DIMWIT said, ‘Fascinating. But I see our gentleman in the front row has another question.’
The fraternity boy said, ‘It kind of sounds like my question stirred up everybody a lot. I wanted to know if the panel thought a robot could pass as human. Because you see us here, me and nine of my fraternity brothers. Only
‘All of you,’ shouted someone in the back. The audience laughed, clapped, cheered and whistled; even DIMWIT raised its cartoon eyebrows.
Another figure in the front row jumped up. ‘I’m the one he means, I’m the robot.’
‘Robbie, sit down! That’s an order!’
‘My name isn’t Robbie, it’s Roderick Wood. I don’t see why I should take orders from anybody. I don’t know how you got me here, but I’m leaving now.’
Roderick made it to the aisle and began a dignified retreat before the brothers recovered.
‘Hey stop him! Get him!’
With war-whoops and rebel yells, they went after him. At the same moment, DIMWIT decided to entertain with a spectacular light-show and deafening music. In the confusion of flickering light and artificial thunder, it was hard for the audience to know exactly what was going on. Some thought they saw FUN boys tackling the fugitive, some saw his clothes torn off, some thought they saw a naked figure break free and run to the exit.
Some thought the figure was that of a man, some thought a woman.
‘Thanks,’ Roderick said, getting into the car. ‘Not everybody would pick up a naked stranger.’
Shirl nodded. ‘I thought at first you were the first streaker of spring. But then I saw the way you ran. I said to myself, “That’s the old Slumbertite Z-43 prosthetic hip and double-action knee, both sides.” You must be a robot.’
‘I am, but — have you met others?’
She shook her head, a quantity of auburn hair falling over the shoulder of white overalls. ‘No, I just reasoned that no live person could stand the pain of running on those. Not adjusted the way you’ve got them.’
‘Oh. You sould like an expert in prostheses.’
‘One of my sidelines,’ she said. ‘I’m interested in anything electromechanical. My main job is troubleshooting automotive computer links. In my spare time I design and build research equipment for the Computer Science department. Uh, where should I drop you?’
Roderick gave his address. ‘But what am I thinking of, I haven’t got a key!’
‘I’ll open the door for you,’ she said.
‘Would you? Terrific!’
‘I’ll do better than that. You wait in the car, I’ll get into your place and bring you out a pair of pants.’
‘You really are very kind, Shirl.’
‘I’m interested in you,’ she said simply. ‘You’re electromechanical.’
XVIII
Luke found Roderick’s door open, so he asked Mission Control to give him permission to take a look inside. The shades were drawn and the lights on.
‘You awake, Rickwood? Thought you might like to go fishing if — Oh my God!’
The hand lay on the worn carpet, palming an eye. The eye was unmistakably Roderick’s. Part of a foot lay on the studio couch, near a lower jaw, an oil can and a set of little wrenches. There were pieces of Roderick on every visible surface around the room, arranged almost as in an ‘exploded view’.
‘This is terrible, terrible. Mission Control, we got us a problem here, any ideas? No, of course not. You always have plenty of advice when I don’t need it, but the minute I need help you’re out to lunch. Everybody in Houston got laryngitis?’
He sat down, fished in a wastebasket and came up with Roderick’s head, minus one eye and the jaw. Luke held up the head to look at it. Poor Roderick!
‘Poor Rickwood. I knew him, Houston, a guy in a million.’
The door opened and an overdressed woman with bleached hair looked in. ‘You murdered him!’ she said. ‘You went and murdered him! Why?’
‘Uh no, look lady I—’
‘God, he was only a poor damn robot, never did nobody no harm, why did you have to murder him?’ Her voice kept cracking, scratching like an old needle on an old record. ‘What did he ever do to you, mister? Or did you just want to see how he ticked? Or maybe you needed some spare parts, is that it? I mean look at him, he was my friend, just look at him.’
‘Lady look, I didn’t, I found him, I
Roderick’s remaining eye, which had been closed, now flicked open, rolled to look at each of them, and blinked.
‘He’s alive! Christ, don’t drop him.’
‘Look at him wink.’ Luke held up the head as one holds up a clever baby. ‘Look at him wink!’
‘Yeah, winking was always important to Roderick. Hey I’m sorry I yelled at you there. My name’s Ida.’
‘I’m Luke. Will you look at him wink?’
‘You don’t suppose that’s code or something, Luke?’
‘Sure, that’s it! Morse code, let’s see what it says: A-S-S-E-M-B-L-Y, Assembly Instructions. One, Body Mainframe Subassembly. A. Align front frame section with rear frame section and assemble, using eight bolts marked G472, eight lockwashers and eight nuts. Tighten with torque wrench set to — holy moroni, how are we gonna keep up with all this?’
Ida squatted down. ‘We’ll do it, that’s all. You read me the instructions, I’ll do the business.’
Two hours later, when they stopped for coffee, Roderick had taken shape. He sat on the floor leaning back against an armchair, head lolled back, hands dangling at his sides, legs splayed out and one foot still not in place. Except for the flickering eye, he was still inert.
‘I never realized,’ Luke said. ‘Never saw him naked before, it make you realize: he really is a dummy. Look, you can see all his joints.’
‘He looks helpless. Like a stiff.’
‘Yeah but at the same time — free, you know? The dead are free. No worries. No Mission Control breathing down their necks, telling them what to do. The dead have got it made.’
‘The dead haven’t got shit, Luke. I nearly croaked not long ago myself, and to me, the dead are just — just