‘That would be an insult, Rachael. A Yukawan robot earns their full name.’
‘I’m sorry, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.’ And then her face flushed again. ‘But maybe you’ll understand how I feel. I’ve been dragged here from -, made to leave home and travel -- -- --, all for the sake of my father’s job. And the time has gone all funny on Earth, you know that? I won’t be -- for --. -- – -.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do held up his hands.
‘Rachael, you’re cutting out. I don’t understand what you’re saying.’
‘That’s what happens when you grow up surrounded by fascists.’ She clenched her fists and rolled her eyes, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do had to force himself not to laugh. It seemed such a strange thing to do.
All of a sudden she calmed down. ‘I’m thirsty, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.’
‘Thirsty?’ the word confused Wa-Ka-Mo-Do for a moment, but then he remembered what Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah had told him. ‘Oh yes. I understand.’
‘It’s polite for a gentleman to fetch the lady’s drink,’ added Rachael.
‘Is it?’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, puzzled by this custom, but pleased for the opportunity to watch a human drink. ‘What do I do?’
‘You mean you don’t know? I suppose you wouldn’t. Well, you call across one of the waiters, ask him for a glass of champagne, and then you take it from him and hand it to me, and then I drink it.’
‘Champagne,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, carefully. ‘Very well.’ There was a black-clad human nearby holding a tray. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do signalled to him, as he had seen the other humans do.
‘Champagne, please.’
The light flickered on the waiter’s headset as Wa-Ka-Mo-Do spoke the words, but if the human thought there was anything odd in the request, he didn’t say so.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do took the champagne and turned to see Rachael had walked off along the terrace’s edge, as if she didn’t know him. This seemed a very strange custom. Wouldn’t it be easier if human females fetched their own drinks? He carefully carried the glass across to her, noting what a ridiculous design the vessel was. The yellowish liquid that it contained seemed to be always about to spill over the rim of the wide bowl. Surely it would be more sensible to make the glass taller and narrower?
‘You did it!’ said Rachael, sounding impressed. She seized the glass and took a sip. Immediately, she began to make a harsh hacking sound.
‘What is that you are doing?’ asked Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘Does that mean you are enjoying the drink?’
‘Just a cough,’ said Rachael, her voice strangely modulated. ‘It went down the wrong way.’ She made the hacking noise once more, and then took another sip of the drink. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do watched fascinated, seeing the way her throat moved as it went down.
She turned to lean against the stone balustrade, seemingly unperturbed by the sheer drop below her. She was looking out at the green mound opposite.
‘Now, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. You said you’d tell me more about the Mound of Eternity.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked around, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah and the rest of the robots and humans still circulated in the Great Hall. He could see the Ambassador, talking to two robots in copper skins. Mine Chiefs, he guessed. He should really be in there himself, but he couldn’t face returning to that room just yet. Besides, he was enjoying Rachael’s company.
‘Do you want to hear a story about a story?’ he asked. ‘A story about a story? Is this a robot thing?’ ‘It’s supposed to tell you something about yourself.’ ‘I’d rather know about the Mound of Eternity.’ ‘This story is about the Mound of Eternity too.’ ‘Then I’d like to hear it.’ She took a drink of champagne, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do began to speak.
The Story about a Story
‘A long time ago, the robots who built this city ruled the world, or at least all the land that they could see, which in those days was the world. They were proud and clever.
‘They mined this hill for iron and copper, and built the walls from the stone that they excavated. They built forges and presses and foundries, and the city waxed strong. And all would have been well, but for the streak of cruelty woven into the minds of those who led, and they treated those in their charge badly. When they wove their children, they wove a little more cruelty into their minds. And so cruelty deepened with each generation.
‘Now, you need leisure to be truly cruel, and these robots had leisure. Do you want to hear more?’
‘Yes,’ said Rachael.
‘But I warn you, the story of the Mound of Eternity is not a pleasant one.’
‘Go on.’ She took another sip of the champagne. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do was a novice in the ways of humans, but it seemed to him she wasn’t really enjoying her drink.
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘So the metal of this land was twisted into patterns of exquisite cruelty, and the people of this city suffered under the hands of the rulers-’
‘Hold on,’ interrupted Rachael, waving a hand airily in the darkness. ‘It couldn’t be that bad.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do felt disorientated to be put off his flow so.
‘Well… Why not?’
Rachael took hold of the balustrade and looked out over the orange fires, burning in the dark distance. She seemed to be a little uncoordinated, her speech a little slurred.
‘Because robots have it easy. If someone damages your leg or arm you can always build another one. If a human is tortured they can be damaged for life.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do wore a tolerant expression. ‘That’s why it’s better to be a human.’
‘No way! Really? Why?’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do gazed at her face. He could barely read human expressions; even so, he got the impression that this wasn’t bravado. Rachael really hadn’t thought this through.
‘It’s better to be a human,’ he repeated, ‘because once a human’s body is destroyed the pain ends. With a robot they just fasten on another limb and start the torture all over again.’
He leaned closer to her; he heard the strange rasping noise she made as she blew wind into and out of her mouth.
‘You know that if you cut the coil of a robot it cannot control its body?’ he said. ‘It’s cast into a world of darkness before it dies?’
‘I had heard that.’
‘Not that long ago, here in Sangrel, they cut the coils of robots. They cut the coils of children. They made mothers watch as their children were brought forward and their coils broken before them. They made mothers weave minds knowing they would be destroyed immediately they were finished.’
The human’s eyes widened. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do saw the intricate patterns woven in the blue circles that acted as focussing mechanisms.
‘But that was awful!’
‘That was just the start,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘I told you, as the years passed, the cruelty of those robots increased. Cruelty is a sport that must be constantly reinvented lest it grow dull. Look at this.’
He led Rachael to the end of the terrace, to where the exhibits lay.
‘So? It’s a suit of armour. What’s so bad about that?’
‘Not a suit of armour. A robot body. Doesn’t it look odd to you?’
‘A little. Why? What is it really?’
‘I can’t tell you. You’re too young.’
‘Too young? I’m fourteen!’ She picked up her empty glass. ‘I need more champagne,’ she said. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do signalled to another waiter who replaced the glass with a full one.
‘Cruelty was once written throughout this state,’ he said. They moved back to the edge of the terrace and looked back over the lake to the dark shape of the Mound of Eternity. The rhythm of the gamelan had changed, now the slowly ringing gongs spoke of stillness and calm.
‘The robots of this city were tortured and crippled and melted and bent. Voiceboxes were amplified so that the screams of the suffering could be heard across the countryside. Ever more inventive ways were found to torment the populace. Do you want to hear more?’
‘Yes! Go on!’
‘Very well. Know then, that in the end, the robots of Sangrel wove fear directly into the minds of their subjects.’
