Isaac Asimov's Robots in Time 1 - Predator

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Predator - Isaac Asimov's Robots In Time, vol 1 - by William F. Wu
ISAAC ASIMOV’S
ROBOTS IN TIME
PREDATOR
WILLIAM F. WU
Copyright © 1993
This novel is dedicated to
Bill Moss,
in memory of all those colorful plastic dinosaurs
we used to play with,
and of our formative years together.
Special thanks are due for help in writing this novel to Michael D. Toman, as
usual, for invaluable research aid; Dr. William Q. Wu, and Cecile F. Wu, my
parents, for indulging my childhood interest in dinosaurs; Ricia Mainhardt;
John Betancourt; and Byron Preiss.
THE LAWS OF ROBOTICS
1.
A robot may not injure a human being, or through inaction, allow a human being
to come to harm.
2.
A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such
orders would conflict with the First Law.
3.
A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not
conflict with the First or Second Law
Foreward
In “Robot Visions,” Dr. Isaac Asimov writes about a question inherent in any
time travel story—whether individuals traveling in time will alter events that
would have occurred without the interference of a time traveler. Most writers
who tackle this question write about changing the past and whether doing so is
desirable or not. The Good Doctor, once again exhibiting the originality of
his own vision, chooses to focus on a more rarely examined concern: of
traveling into the future, and the possible consequences of doing so.
Stories that merely take place in the future are not the same as stories about
individuals who travel from their own time, whatever it is, to their future.
To my knowledge, the first science fiction novel to tell such a story is the
classic novel by H. G. Wells, The Time Machine. In it Wells writes of a man
who travels to the distant future from Victorian England, the time and place
in which Wells was writing the novel. However, Wells presented a dystopian
vision of the future as a warning of what could happen if the rigid social and
economic divisions of his own society worsened to the extreme. The possibility
of avoiding that vision lay not with the time traveler, but with the people
who lived in Wells’s time. Wells did not really examine whether his time
traveler’s report to his friends back in his own time would bring about a
different future.
Two theories of history influence the tale any writer tells about time travel.
One belief is that only large forces such as technological advance, economic
change, and the development of religions and philosophies determine the
direction of history. The other theory is that any event, “no matter how
small, sends out ripples of influence that profoundly affect all other events.
An historian told me that his colleagues are about evenly divided in their
support of these theories. Authors of time travel stories always write with
one or the other implicit, if not explicit, in their work.
I first discovered the science fiction of Isaac Asimov as a child and have
read both his fiction and nonfiction in the years since then. Writing time
travel stories about his positronic robots and his Three Laws of Robotics is
therefore a special honor for me, and I hope you will enjoy the Robots in Time
series. By way of introduction, this book presents the late Dr. Asimov’s
fantastic “Robot Visions.”
William F. Wu.
1
Mojave Center Governor sat in his office, deep in the underground city of
Mojave Center. He was an experimental humaniform robot of a type that was new
this year, 2140. Each of the Governor robots was currently running all the
municipal systems of one entire, newly-constructed city. They were doing so
under probationary status, monitored by a committee of scientists through
their computer.
His office was in the middle level of the city, in the center of that level.
He didn’t really need an office at all since most of his work was done through
his radio link to the city computer or directly to municipal departments;
further, he could plug into various terminals when necessary. However, he had
learned that humans sometimes preferred doing business in an office, so he
maintained a small room in Mojave Center for that purpose.
At the moment, MC Governor was alone. He plugged his humaniform forefinger
into a wall jack. Inside the jack, the end of his finger opened and plugged
into the system. He contacted the city computer.
“I am going to run a simulation program again,” said MC Governor. “I will
continue my normal duties through my multi-tasking system. However, I instruct
you not to transfer any communication or other interruption lower than
Priority 5. When I have finished running the simulation, I will notify you.”
“Acknowledged,” said the city computer.
MC Governor returned his finger to human shape, breaking the shielded
connection. For the sake of security, he told himself, he chose not to use
radio communication concerning the simulation programs. Lately he had been
running them more often than before.
He ran down his list of programs. They were standard simulation programs that
all the Governors used to discover and correct potential problems and
challenges without actually having to face them in real life. His favorites
involved some sort of disaster that befell Mojave Center, requiring him to
respond urgently under the Laws of Robotics to restore the situation to
normal. Like all positronic robots, he was programmed so that his greatest
imperative, and his greatest reward, was in obeying the Laws. The First Law of
Robotics was, “A robot may not injure a human being, or, through inaction,
allow a human being to come to harm.”
This time, he selected the program called Desert Flash Flood. It was
essentially a form of role-playing game. He began running it. Suddenly he
found himself standing in the main thoroughfare of Mojave Center, Antelope
Valley Boulevard, with water a meter high pouring down the street.
MC Governor was a very tall, brawny robot. He ran through the water to a young
woman who was stumbling and splashing helplessly, trying to hold a toddler in
her arms. As MC Governor picked her up and strode through the current toward
an escalator, he radioed the city monitors who controlled all the basic life
functions.
“Shut down all electricity to nonessential services if they have failed to
shut down automatically,” he instructed the computer, as he carried the woman
and her child. “Run a status check on the emergency electrical systems
providing essential services.”
Right now, his greatest worry was the electrocution of humans if broken power
lines touched the flood water. As a Governor robot, he was a central control
unit, capable of managing entire cities, from traffic to essential services
and utilities, to environmental control and industry. The city had its own
decentralized computer systems, which reported directly to him and took his
instructions by way of his internal radio and video systems.
“Thank you,” the woman gasped, clutching her drenched toddler as MC Governor
set her down on the rising escalator.
Almost immediately, the monitors reported that nonessential services were
being discontinued. The escalator stopped moving, but the woman stumbled on up
the steps. MC Governor waded back into the water toward a trolley full of
humans stranded on one side of the boulevard. They were yelling and screaming
in panic. Its robot driver was speaking calmly to his passengers, asking for
patience.
The city monitors reported that the emergency power system was functioning
safely.
“Send me all data related to the cause of the flood,” he ordered. At the same
time, he moved behind the stranded vehicle. It normally ran on a battery-
powered electric motor. Now the robot driver steered as MC Governor pushed the
vehicle to the stationary escalator, where the driver began helping the humans
onto it.
As the monitors all over the city reported their data, MC Governor computed
the information. A flash flood had taken place in the Mojave Desert above
them, washing down from the San Gabriel Mountains to the south. Normally, it
should not have been a problem. The top surface of Mojave Center, a large
rectangle on the desert floor, was comprised mostly of solar cells, which
provided power. It was fully sealed, of course, so that flood water would
normally pass right over the underground city. In this case, however, the
force of the flood had ripped open the surface and water was still pouring
down into the top levels of the city.
Robots working on those levels were already struggling to seal off the leak.
Others all over the city were coordinating evacuation efforts for the humans.
MC Governor was about to request the details of those efforts when he was
interrupted from outside the simulation program.
“City computer calling Mojave Center Governor with a Priority 8 emergency.”
MC Governor shut off the simulation and inserted his finger into the wall jack
again to shield his communication. “MC Governor here. Report the emergency.”
“Flooding is reported on the main level over Antelope Valley Boulevard. At
this time, the Priority 8 emergency is estimated to be thirty-seven minutes
from reaching a Priority 9 level without additional measures.”
“What is the cause of the flooding?”
“The circulation of water was routed incorrectly through the city. Too much
water was directed to the problem area, and the increased pressure burst two
main valves simultaneously.”
“Why was the water routed incorrectly?”
“The orders came from you.”
“Are all standard emergency procedures under way?”
“Affirmative. The most critical is that all drainage systems are open to the
maximum.”
MC Governor quickly broke the connection and ran outside. The scene was
similar to that of the simulation, though not identical. Not as much water was
running down the boulevard; it was only half a meter deep, but many more
people were running for the escalators and sliding ramps, yelling to each
other. MC Governor was horrified; somehow, he had allowed his involvement with
the simulation to influence his multi-tasking ability. Unwittingly, he had
begun to create the flood in the simulation, putting humans at risk in
violation of the First Law of Robotics.
He waded into the water, snatched up two children who had been knocked off
their feet by the current, and carried them to the nearest rising slide ramp.
“City computer,” he radioed. “What is the status of the broken valves now?”
“A robot maintenance team has shut off the water flow manually at the
preceding valves. The broken valves are not yet under replacement.”
Around MC Governor, people were still in danger. The shallow water would not
drown anyone in the areas where it had flowed into gentle backwaters, but the
current was powerful enough to knock people down. If they were injured, they
might drown even in shallow water. Other robots were already wading through
the water, carrying people to safety.
A short, balding man with frizzy gray hair had lost his footing. Though
sitting in water that was not over his head, he was clinging to the bumper of
a small utility vehicle, unable to pull himself up against the force of the
current. He pulled himself toward the bumper, tried to gain traction with his
feet, and was knocked down again. This time he lost his grip and was rolled
roughly down the boulevard.
MC Governor waded quickly to the man and lifted him up. He was an engineer
named Max Eisen, to whom MC Governor had spoken briefly before. As MC Governor
carried him, Eisen coughed and wheezed, but was breathing. In several long
strides, MC Governor returned to the ramp, where he set the man down in a
sitting position. Then he looked around again.
“Over there,” Max wheezed, pointing.
A young woman with curly orange hair had jumped up onto the pedestal next to
an abstract stone sculpture. She was looking doubtfully at the water swirling
around the base of the pedestal. As MC Governor hurried toward her, the
pedestal tilted from the imbalance her weight caused. Water flowed under its
raised edge, pushing it over.
The young woman gasped as she was thrown through the air. The stone sculpture
began to slide off its pedestal in the same direction. Before she hit the
water, however, MC Governor managed to catch her and swing her out of the way.
In the spot where she would have struck the water, the stone sculpture
splashed and then cracked against the hard floor beneath it.
“You are safe now,” said MC Governor, carrying her back to the ramp to join
Max.
The water was slowing down quickly now. With the broken pipes turned off and
the drainage open to the maximum, the emergency was passing. Up and down the
boulevard, robots were helping humans to safety and seeing to their injuries
if they had sustained any.
“Elaine,” said Max. “I would like to introduce you to Mojave Center Governor,
the robot who runs our city.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Elaine smiled gratefully, brushing her orange hair out
of her face. “And thank you.”
“I may not deserve thanks,” MC Governor said grimly. “I should never have
allowed this to happen.”
Internally, he radioed the water system monitors again. They all reported good
drainage. Then he called the city computer. “Are you aware of any immediate
First Law imperatives that are not being addressed?”
“No.”
“Compile total damage estimates, including human casualties, and relay them to
me as soon as they are reasonably complete. Prioritize repairs according to
safety factors.” He was very worried that his lapse had caused humans to be
injured or worse.
“Acknowledged,” said the city computer.
Then MC Governor reviewed the power monitors and turned the electricity back
on in all the branches of the system that were undamaged.
“Elaine just moved here,” said Max. “I’m afraid this wasn’t a very good
introduction, Elaine, but Mojave Center really promises to be a good place to
live.”
MC Governor towered over Max as he looked down at him. “Do you need medical
care? Either of you?”
“I’m okay,” said Elaine, looking up at him with wide-eyed wonder. “Thanks to
you and the First Law of Robotics.”
“I twisted my ankle,” said Max, shifting his weight. “I don’t think it’s too
serious, but maybe it should be looked at.”
“Of course.”
“We shouldn’t keep you,” said Elaine. “I’m sure you should be in contact with
all your subordinates.”
“I am,” said MC Governor. “My multi-tasking ability allows me to make contacts
and decisions even as we speak.” He lifted Max gently and began walking up the
ramp. “Max, I will take you to the nearest first aid station.”
“Okay.”
Elaine walked with them. “Can I ask you another question? Why are you so
gigantic?”
Max laughed.
“Actually, I am a gestalt robot. I am comprised of six robots, both in body
and in mind.”
“What?” She cocked her head to one side, puzzled. “You mean you can divide
into six smaller robots?”
“Yes, that is right.” MC Governor smiled. “The reason I am this big is that I
can divide into six robots of rather small human stature, slender and short.”
“But what for? Why not just make one big one, like you are, if that’s what the
city needs?”
“In the event of certain types of large-scale emergencies, I can divide into
my component robots so that each can move directly to a different site to
manage damage control.”
“Makes sense to me,” said Max. “Right, Elaine?”
“Yes, I see. But what about your brain, Governor? Does it segment somehow?”
“No, not physically.” MC Governor was amused at the thought. “Their positronic
brains are physically distinct from mine, of course, but right now all six are
merging data with mine to create my own personality. In order to divide, I
will have to allow each latent personality to separate and take control over
its data as well as its own body.”
“I’m impressed,” said Elaine. “And a little confused. I never heard of
anything like this—that is, a robot like you.”
“He represents the new cutting edge in municipal robotics,” said Max. “I read
all about him. And this very moment, even as he speaks to us, he’s also
monitoring all the energy consumption, security matters, engineering
functions, and anything else you can think of regarding the city.”
“You’re doing all that right now?” Elaine studied MC Governor’s face, as
though for a clue of some sort to the effort he was expending.
“That is the job.” MC Governor shrugged amiably. “I was constructed for it, so
to me, combining all these duties is not surprising.”
“Tell me,” said Elaine, studying his face curiously. “What do you do for fun?”
“Aw, I don’t think robots have a lot of fun,” said Max. “Oh, do they?”
“As a robot, my greatest pleasure is in obeying the Three Laws of Robotics.
That value is hardwired into my positronic brain, as it is with all positronic
robots.” MC Governor smiled, enjoying the mere thought of them. “The First Law
of Robotics says,, A robot may not injure a human being—’ “
“Yes,” said Elaine, nodding recognition. “We learned them in school.”
MC Governor heard her, but he really wanted to recite them all. Doing so gave
him a feeling of security and satisfaction. “The Second Law is, ‘A robot must
obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would
conflict with the First Law.’ Then the Third Law of Robotics is—”
“‘A robot must protect his own existence as long as such protection does not
conflict with the First or Second Laws,’ “ Elaine finished, grinning impishly.
“Yes—exactly,” said MC Governor, suddenly embarrassed. “Please pardon me for
boring you with this matter.” He was about to ask Elaine some polite questions
about her interests when he received a radio alert from the city’s
communication center.
“Governor, Priority 6 communication is requested.”
“Acknowledged,” said MC Governor. Priority 6 also required a shielded
communication, so he would have to take it in his office, but it was not
enough to override his duty to Max. He delivered Max to the robots at a first
aid station, bade both humans goodbye, and hurried toward his office.
As MC Governor strode quickly down Antelope Valley Boulevard toward one of the
slidewalks, he judged the damage he could see. The underground city had
different levels, connected by various moving ramps, slidewalks, and lifts;
generally, they appeared untouched. Of course, much of the water damage would
not be immediately visible.
As he walked, all he could think about was that he had failed in his duty.
MC Governor sat down in his desk chair and plugged his humaniform forefinger
into a wall jack once more. He gave his password and called for the Priority 6
message.
“Message source: The Governor Robot Oversight Committee Computer.
“Text: The Governor Robots of the following experimental cities have entered
closed loops: Emerald City, Republic of Ireland; Kenyatta Center, Kenya; New
Monegaw Springs, Missouri; Osaka Center, Japan; Rio de Oro Center, Brazil. “
The exact times that each Governor had entered the closed’ loop were given
next. MC Governor adjusted those times for the different time zones in which
each city was located around the world. He found that each Governor robot had
malfunctioned within the last three hours.
MC Governor disconnected, his mind working quickly. He was one of only six
Governor robots being tested on Earth right now, and the other five had all
failed today. Since the Governors had all been constructed with the same basic
design, he was forced to conclude that he would experience the same fate,
probably very soon.
MC Governor had a very levelheaded, rational, not very flashy personality. He
was totally dedicated to his job. However, when he was thinking alone, without
having to pace himself to human abilities or to slower electronic equipment,
he could think extremely quickly.
Now his own existence was threatened. Since neither a threat to humans nor
direct human orders were present, the First and Second Laws of Robotics did
not apply. Under these conditions, the Third Law of Robotics compelled him to
evaluate his position at maximum efficiency in both speed and clarity.
Obviously, some crucial design flaw was about to make him enter a closed loop.
It would put him into a state roughly parallel to a comatose condition in
humans. Even worse, however, was the danger from the Oversight Committee of
scientists.
In order to study him, they would have to dismantle him even if they could
take control of him before he entered the closed loop. They would need nothing
more than to reach him with a direct order for him to shut himself down until
further notice; under the Second Law, their instruction alone would be enough
to control his behavior. His first priority was to insulate himself from
receiving any such instruction. After that, he would have to find out how to
avoid entering the endless loop.
He was able to infer some information that was not actually part of the
message. For instance, the message came from the Oversight Committee’s
computer, not the committee itself. Their computer had probably judged for
itself that the message should be sent to him. So far the scientists had
apparently not learned of this.
MC Governor did not know how often the scientists actually reviewed the data
regarding the Governors. Since the experimental robots had already been
functioning successfully for many months without a problem, the four
roboticists were probably not bothering to check the data too frequently.
However, an emergency of this magnitude would probably prompt their computer
to contact their offices directly. When they learned that he had caused water
mains to break by incorrectly routing the normal water supply, they would be
even more concerned.
His deliberations and immediate plans were formed in less than a second. A
more detailed strategy would have to wait until he had more information. First
he plugged back into the secure link to the city computer.
“Priority 10,” he instructed. That meant that only he or the scientists on the
committee could access this. He had no way to prevent them from getting
information from anywhere in the Mojave Center system, but he could stop
accidental leaks of information. “Delete all records of receipt, storage, and
acknowledgment of last Priority 6 message. Until further directives from me,
indicate to all exterior and interior communications that city operations are
functioning normally. Do not pass any direct instructions to me from any
humans. Store them and use Priority 10 communication to tell me that some.
have arrived, without revealing their content.”
When the city computer had acknowledged receipt, he withdrew his finger. That
would delay any instructions from the Oversight Committee, but not for long.
They would merely have to call any human here in Mojave Center and ask him to
pass the orders on to MC Governor. If he stayed in his office, however, he
would not have to hear any human instructions in person, either.
MC Governor plugged back into the city computer. “Priority 10. Have a detail
of Security robots report to the exterior of my office immediately and block
all humans from entering. The Security detail is to report to me if any humans
approach my office. They are not to convey any direct messages of any kind to
me from a human until and unless I personally give further instructions.”
He hesitated, at least by robotic standards. If a human ordered a Security
robot to convey a message, the Second Law would override his own orders. He
would have to block that possibility with a First Law imperative.
“I, MC Governor, may be in personal danger from anticipated human contact. If
my functions are disrupted, harm may come to the human residents of Mojave
Center. A First Law imperative is therefore involved.”
That would not stop the Oversight Committee’s directives from reaching him
forever, but it would be enough at least to force the Committee to make some
effort. The robots on Security detail would have to be persuaded that a
greater or more immediate First Law imperative overrode this one. Otherwise,
they would have to be physically disabled or destroyed before they would
disobey his instructions.
The danger of his entering an endless loop was more complex. He had never
noticed any tendency on his part to enter any sort of long-term loop. If the
scientists on the Oversight Committee had learned of this problem, he would
have heard from them before now. That meant that the problem was likely to hit
with no internal warning.
His own monitoring systems might not be reliable. He judged that his best
chance to learn something quickly about his own basic design was to contact
his creator, Wayne Nystrom. Wayne was not part of the Oversight Committee, of
course, since its mission was to study his work. MC Governor would have to
call him and instruct the city computer to shield the call and delete all
records of it.
MC Governor did not want—in human terms—to die.
2
Wayne Nystrom stood inside his air-conditioned mobile office, looking out the
window. In the distance, the turquoise waters of the Atlantic Ocean and the
pale sand of the Florida beach were bright in the sunlight. Immediately in
front of him, however, robot drivers were piling the sand in huge mounds with
giant earth movers, preparing a place for Turquoise Coast, the latest
underground city of Wayne’s own design. Like the others, it would be run by a
Governor robot that was still under construction.
“Biggest challenge yet,” he muttered. He was alone in his office, as he always
preferred. Eccentric and secure in the knowledge of his own brilliance, he
preferred his own company to anyone else’s and often carried out private
conversations with himself, being the only human on any planet whom he really
trusted. At the age of forty-one, he was finally achieving the success with
his creations that he had always known he deserved.
His telephone beeped his personal code. He moved toward it reluctantly, still
watching the robot crew dig into the sand outside. “And they told me I
couldn’t build an underground city here because you strike water so soon under
the surface,” he growled sourly. “Wrong again, as usual.”
He sighed and pushed the button on his telephone speaker. “Yeah?”
“Good day, Dr. Nystrom.” The humaniform robot face of Mojave Center Governor
came on the video screen.
“Hello, Governor!” Wayne instantly relaxed when he realized that the caller
was one of his own robotic creations. “I’m glad to hear from you! How are
you?”
“I have an emergency situation that I may not be able to handle,” said MC
Governor somberly.
“Not likely,” said Wayne, though he welcomed the challenge of an intellectual
puzzle. Besides, MC Governor had always been somber and serious. “What’s the
problem?”
“The Third Law prevents me from speaking of it by public telephone. I need
help. Will you come to see me so that we can talk in private?”
“Of course,” said Wayne. “I stand by all of my creations. You know that. Will
tomorrow be soon enough?”
“I fear not,” said MC Governor. “Every hour counts. Perhaps every minute.”
Wayne hesitated, surprised. He was anxious to know more and was suddenly
frightened by the sense of urgency that MC Governor was conveying. “All right.
This project doesn’t need me right now. I’ll arrange a flight right away.”
MC Governor disconnected, unsure whether Dr. Nystrom could really help him.
While Dr. Nystrom might be the only one who could enlighten him quickly on his
basic design flaw, his creator might simply arrive too late.
Dr. Nystrom would first have to pack and arrange a chartered SST flight from
Florida to Mojave Center’s small airport. That would take some time, as would
the flight itself. If nothing unexpected occurred to slow him down, he needed
a couple of hours to get here at absolute minimum.
MC Governor decided to review his internal data. He began by examining his
design in three-dimensional blueprint, but he saw nothing he had not seen
before. Then he began running the standard simulation programs.
All the simulations presented options that involved the Three Laws of
Robotics. As he reviewed them, he ran short segments of each, looking for
irregularities. These simulations were as close to a hobby as he possessed.
MC Governor especially liked the simulations that presented him with First Law
imperatives. In fact, they were the part of his programming that kept his
morale high. He opened his favorite one, Earthquake Simulation 9, near the
climax.
In this one, a major earthquake has shaken the San Andreas Fault, roughly
seventy kilometers west of Mojave Center. Because of the danger of earthquakes
in the region, Mojave Center had been designed and constructed as a self-
contained, sealed unit. Its four sides and floor were sealed, the surfaces
smooth and the edges rounded. Theoretically, it would float in the sand around
it during an earthquake of virtually any magnitude, with its water tanks and
batteries safely inside.
During a major quake, the box containing the city would be shaken, mostly
laterally, snapping off the aqueducts that brought water down from the
mountaintops in the area. The solar panels on the top surface, however, would
remain attached and functional. When the quake stopped, the city should remain
intact, though the floating might bring it to rest at a slightly tilted angle.
Inside the city, of course, all the positronic robot labor would be warning
humans to stay inside and helping them find secure locations.
However, Earthquake Simulation 9 postulated an additional problem. After a
simulated earthquake of nine on the Richter scale, Mojave Center has survived
intact but has come to rest at a severe angle. The robots can adjust their
perception of spatial relations more easily than humans, and the human
residents are disoriented and near hysteria.
Then a major aftershock hits. Now that the city is no longer in its original
position, and has already sustained major stress to its outer shell, it is
much more vulnerable, and parts of the city begin to break. At this point, MC
Governor decided to turn on the simulation.
In MC Governor’s positronic imagination, he strode through Antelope Valley
Boulevard against four feet of rushing water. It flowed out of broken water
pipes protruding from the walls and poured down all the streets.
“City computer,” MC Governor ordered in quick, firm tones through the radio
link. “Shut down all electricity in Mojave Center now. Trigger all emergency
chemical lights immediately. Priority I, First Law emergency in effect.”
Instantly, the normal bright, indirect electric light went off, to be replaced
by slightly dimmer orange and yellow light sources provided by chemical
reactions. They were in self-contained, waterproof units that would not, if
broken, endanger humans by sending an electrical charge into the water.
Meanwhile, helpless humans screamed and clung to whatever railings or fixed
furnishings they could, in danger of drowning or being dashed against the
walls, debris, and malfunctioning ramps and escalators.
As MC Governor passed, he picked them up in his strong arms as though they
were children, holding them high above the dangerous water. “You will be taken
to safety,” he said calmly. “Please do not struggle.”
Respecting his judgment and ability, the frightened humans obeyed him.
All around him, other robots were also rescuing humans from imminent death and
severe injury wherever they could. Still more robots used tools or their own
robotic body strength to close valves or crimp pipes shut in whatever way was
possible. Driven by the First Law, every robot present was risking his own
existence to save the humans.
With a woman sitting on his shoulders and two grown men under each arm, MC
Governor forced his way to an upper level where an escalator was still
functioning. He could have just set them down and let them find their way to
the surface, but his interpretation of the First Law would not allow that.
Instead, he climbed up the moving escalator, still carrying his charges.
On the top level, which was devoted entirely to engineering, MC Governor set
down his human burden in temporary safety. Then he reached up to manipulate
the controls of an emergency exit. It was a trapdoor that operated on springs
instead of electricity so that it could still be used in moments such as this.
He threw it open with a clang and led the three humans out into the fresh, dry
air of the Mojave Desert, where, blinking and squinting in the bright
sunlight, they stumbled onto the shiny solar panels that lay on the top of the
city.
“Remain here,” said MC Governor. “Stay on the sand, away from the top surface
of Mojave Center. The open sand will be safe in the event that additional
aftershocks take place.”
They nodded and moved away from the solar panels that marked the top of the
city.
MC Governor saw that they were safe and leaped back down through the trapdoor.
Shouting and also sending a Priority 1 radio signal to all the robots, he
announced that he had opened an escape route and described its location. As
the other robots began directing and carrying humans to safety on the surface,
he ran back down to pick up as many more of the injured and panicked humans as
he could find.
MC Governor ran the simulation through to its conclusion, saving many lives by
repeatedly carrying and leading humans to safety. The simulation ended when
all the human survivors had been rescued. Then, deeply satisfied with the
feeling of accomplishment in following a long, complex series of First Law
imperatives, he turned it off.
As a routine matter, he checked the passage of time--and was astounded. He
usually ran through a simulation in no more than fifteen to thirty seconds;
even accounting for the time he had spent checking segments of other
simulations, he had expected to find a total time usage of no more than forty
seconds. Instead, he had used two minutes and six seconds. While the time
itself was not significant, the extent of his miscalculation was alarming.
“First clue I have found of something wrong,” he said to himself. “This kind
of malfunction is rare for a positronic brain.” He decided to call up the
times he had spent on simulations during the past week.
What he found was even more worrisome. Each occasion had taken more time than
the one before, and he had not previously noticed that. Also, the curve was
rising sharply. He had spent two minutes, six seconds this time; one minute,
twenty-one seconds the previous incident; fifty-nine seconds before that.
These simulations had been run during the last twelve hours. Before these, the
times were all in the normal range, from thirty to forty-five seconds.
“This may be it. The problem I have been looking for. If I can figure out
exactly what it is.”
MC Governor usually checked the time of all his activities, as a matter of
routine. After running each of these simulations, he should have noticed the
unusual times, but he had not. Of course, at that time, he had not been
alerted to the possibility of a significant flaw in his design, so the
increases had not seemed important.
Now they did.
He began calculating an extrapolation of his recent behavior with the
simulations. This included the simulations he had chosen, their
characteristics, and the length of time he had spent on each one. It took very
little time.
When MC Governor had finished his calculations, he knew that he was in serious
trouble. The length of time he was spending running each simulation was rising
so rapidly that at the existing rate, he would do nothing else in only a few
more hours. That was consistent with his meager information about the fate of
the other Governor robots.
摘要：

Predator-IsaacAsimov'sRobotsInTime,vol1-byWilliamF.WuISAACASIMOV’SROBOTSINTIMEPREDATORWILLIAMF.WUCopyright©1993ThisnovelisdedicatedtoBillMoss,inmemoryofallthosecolorfulplasticdinosaursweusedtoplaywith,andofourformativeyearstogether.SpecialthanksaredueforhelpinwritingthisnoveltoMichaelD.Toman,asusual...

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