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.The banquet table spun through the air and landed on its humped neck.With Eva clutched to his side, her stylish shoes dragging in the grass, Charlie dashed though a tinkling shower of food, silverware, and dishes.He ran as far as he could; his feet tangled in the dry grass, and he fell heavily, twisting to keep from land-ing on Eva.He scuttled around to get a view of the camp, saw the triceratops carrying the balloon on its horns, pieces of it float-ing down.Eva lay as she had fallen, knees drawn up, eyes closed tightly, her hands over her ears.It was hard to see her.Suddenly Charlie realized that the world had gone dark."Jesus Christ," puffed Charlie, looking at the sky."What'shappening?" Where the sky had been brilliant blue, it was now deep violet, the clouds painted rose and pink.While Charlie was trying to grasp this, the triceratops bull lit up in a blazing glare.Fire exploded in the grass around it.Its hide smoked, then burst into flame.The animal staggered in the blinding light, its beak gaping in a soundless scream.It took a step toward the herd, then toppled over on its side, its legs kick-ing once.It turned black under the flames; then its belly ex-ploded.The light went out suddenly, as though a switch had been thrown.Charlie lay on his stomach while steaming offal fell out of the air and thudded on the ground around them.It was daylight again.He stood up, blinking.The purple afterimage of the dying triceratops hung in his vision, nearly blinding him.Several robots walked up."Have you been injured?" one of them asked, in the Proctor's voice."No," Charlie said."S-see about Eva, she might—"Eva partly removed her hands from her ears, squinted at Charlie through one eye, got to her hands and knees, stood up wobblingly, and screamed, "Get away from me! Get away!!""She's all right," Charlie said to the robots."Eva, let me help you—""I said get away from me! I don't want any of your help!"The triceratops herd stood its ground, grunting, seeming to follow Charlie and Eva with their noses as he followed her, as she aimlessly walked through the shambles of the camp, shrieking curses at him.Finally, she sat down on the grass and grew quiet.A vehicle drove up, and Charlie was able to pick her up and put her in it.As they rolled back to Charlie's palace, he said, "Well, Eva, I guess we're even now.This time it was my fault you were in danger, and even though I saved your life again, I—""You stupid, idiotic, shitheaded—! You creep.You asshole! I never want to see you or hear your moronic, idiotic—!Never—!!"Charlie looked out over the flat landscape, his arms folded.He was accustomed to abuse from people who didn't understand him.Charlie spent that evening alone in his command center.Thecommand center always cheered him up.Here, surrounded by science and technology, he could exclude human fallacies, in-cluding his own.He removed his clothing and taped dozens of input-output wires over the transceiver chips under his skin.The butler had to do the ones on his back.The wires ran to a plastic box he could wear under his shirt.The box communicated data to and from his body to a nearby terminal.It was an altogether more convenient arrangement than the one he'd started with, which was to be wired to his couch.Charlie settled into his command chair.Banks of screens lit up; his illuminated globe of Charon flickered with data.He ig-nored them and put on his sound-and-vision helmet.The little stereo screens pressed against his eyes; he was floating in a white nothing.Igor and the Index hovered in the whiteness; thanks to the input-output wires he could"feel" them both.The Index was just a program, but there was something sad about Igor.Igor was like a former person.Igor was alive, not just a machine or a program.At the same time Igor wasn't alive.Igor was thoughts minus personality, obedience without willingness, a question mark without a question.The other Charonese were looks without faces, but Igor was a face without a look.Most of the time.Now Igor took a "stance" that Charlie, without knowing how he did it, recognized as meaning the ap-proach of the Proctor."I recognize you, Proctor," Charlie said.The Proctor emitted a burst of data."Good, Charlie.It is a sign of your progress.You are becoming a Crewperson.I am satisfied."For the dozenth time, Charlie noted the similarity between Index and Proctor.They were both synthetic.But where the Index was a familiar-seeming program, the Proctor was sinister and frightening, like a deadly machine running in a dark room."Proctor," Charlie said."Sometimes I find barriers or blocks in the computer's memory.Sometimes the Charonese do things I can't see.Are the blocks put there by the Charonese, or by you?""That is irrelevant.I wish to speak about your activities today.You placed yourself and the human, Eva, in a life-threatening situation.That is contrary to our purpose.""Oh, right, Proctor.""In the future, you will deal with wildlife through robot proxy only [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]