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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/31364-h.zip b/31364-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fcc61d5 --- /dev/null +++ b/31364-h.zip diff --git a/31364-h/31364-h.htm b/31364-h/31364-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..340621d --- /dev/null +++ b/31364-h/31364-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1629 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8" /> + + <title>B-12’s Moon Glow, by Charles A. Stearns.</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body { + font-family: Georgia,serif; + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%; + } + + p { text-align: justify; + margin: 0em; + text-indent:1em; + } + + h1 { + text-align: center; + font-weight: normal; + margin-top:2em; + font-family:sans-serif; + } + + div.illo {text-align:center; + margin:2em auto; + text-indent:0em;} + + img { border:none;display:block;margin:auto;} + #illo a {font-family:sans-serif;font-size:.7em;display:block;text-align:right;margin-right:-15%;} + + #transcriber_note {margin: 2em 10%; + padding: 1em 1em; + border:thin gray solid; + background-color:#eee; + color:#000; + text-align:left; + } + + #synopsis { + margin: 2em 10%; + text-align:justify; + font-family:sans-serif; + text-indent:0em; + font-style:italic; + } + + #author { + text-align: center; + font-size:125%; + padding:1em; + text-indent:0em; + font-family:sans-serif; + } + + + .pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 1%; + right: 87%; + font-size: 10px; + text-align: left; + color: gray; + background-color: inherit; + font-weight: normal; + font-style: normal; + font-variant: normal; + letter-spacing: normal; + text-indent: 0em; + } + +/* a[title].pagenum:after { + content: attr(title); + }*/ + + /*Uncomment previous section to show page numbers*/ + + hr.thoughtbreak {display:none;} + + .post_thoughtbreak, .first_paragraph { + margin-top:2em; + text-indent:0em; + } + + .post_thoughtbreak:first-letter, .first_paragraph:first-letter { + font-size:2.5em; + float: left; + clear: left; + margin: -.2em 4px -.2em 0px; + line-height: 1.25em; + } + + .first_word { text-transform:uppercase; } + + /* framing decoration */ + #the_beginning { border-top:thin gray solid; margin:2em 0em;} + #the_end { border-bottom:thin gray solid; margin:2em 0em;} + + /* no underlines in links */ + + a:link { text-decoration: none; } + a:visited { text-decoration: none; } + + a:hover { + color: red; + background: inherit; + } + </style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of B-12's Moon Glow, by Charles A. Stearns + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: B-12's Moon Glow + +Author: Charles A. Stearns + +Release Date: February 23, 2010 [EBook #31364] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK B-12'S MOON GLOW *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Barbara Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + <div id="transcriber_note"> + This etext was produced from <cite>Planet Stories</cite> January 1954. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. + </div> + <div id="the_beginning"> + + </div> + <div id="illo"><a class="pagenum" id="page12" title="12"> </a> + <img src="images/illo-sm.png" width="600" height="477" alt="A dyptic of 2 robots in a spaceship junk yard." /> + <a href="images/illo-full-left.png">Left side image</a><a href="images/illo-full-right.png">Right side image</a> + </div> + <div id="story"><a class="pagenum" id="page13" title="13"> </a> + <h1>B-12’s MOON GLOW</h1> + + <p id="author">By CHARLES A. STEARNS</p> + + + <p id="synopsis">Among the metal-persons of Phobos, robot B-12 held a + special niche. He might not have been stronger, larger, + faster than some … but he could be devious … and more important, + he was that junkyard planetoid’s only moonshiner.</p> + + + + + <p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">I am B-12,</span> a metal person. If you read + <cite>Day</cite> and the other progressive journals + you will know that in some quarters of + the galaxy there is considerable prejudice directed + against us. It is ever so with minority + races, and I do not complain. I merely make + this statement so that you will understand + about the alarm clock.</p> + + <p>An alarm clock is a simple mechanism + used by the Builders to shock themselves + into consciousness after the periodic comas + to which they are subject. It is obsolescent, + but still used in such out of the way places + as Phobos.</p> + + <p>My own contact with one of these devices + came about in the following manner:</p> + + <p>I had come into Argon City under cover + of darkness, which is the only sensible thing + to do, in my profession, and I was stealing + through the back alleyways as silently as my + rusty joints would allow.</p> + + <p>I was less than three blocks from Benny’s + Place, and still undetected, when I passed + the window. It was a large, cheerful oblong + <a class="pagenum" id="page14" title="14"> </a>of light, so quite naturally I stopped to investigate, + being slightly phototropic, by virtue + of the selenium grids in my rectifier + cells. I went over and looked in, unobtrusively + resting my grapples on the outer + ledge.</p> + + <p>There was a Builder inside such as I had + not seen since I came to Phobos half a century + ago, and yet I recognized the subspecies + at once, for they are common on Earth. It + was a she.</p> + + <p>It was in the process of removing certain + outer sheaths, and I noted that, while quite + symmetrical, bilaterally, it was otherwise + oddly formed, being disproportionately + large and lumpy in the anterior ventral region.</p> + + <p>I had watched for some two or three minutes, + entirely forgetting my own safety, + when then she saw me. Its eyes widened and + it snatched up the alarm clock which was, + as I have hinted, near at hand.</p> + + <p>“Get out of here, you nosey old tin can!” + it screamed, and threw the clock, which + caromed off my headpiece, damaging one + earphone. I ran.</p> + + <p>If you still do not see what I mean about + racial prejudice, you will, when you hear + what happened later.</p> + + <p>I continued on until I came to Benny’s + Place, entering through the back door. + Benny met me there, and quickly shushed + me into a side room. His fluorescent eyes + were glowing with excitement.</p> + + <p>Benny’s real name is BNE-96, and when + on Earth he had been only a Servitor, not + a General Purpose like myself.</p> + + <p>But perhaps I should explain.</p> + + <p>We metal people are the children of the + Builders of Earth, and later of Mars and + Venus. We were not born of two parents, + as they are. That is a function far too complex + to explain here; in fact I do not even + understand it myself. No, we were born of + the hands and intellects of the greatest of + their scientists, and for this reason it might + be natural to suppose that we, and not they, + would be considered a superior race. It is + not so.</p> + + <p>Many of us were fashioned in those days, + a metal person for every kind of task that + they could devise, and some, like myself, + who could do almost anything. We were + contented enough, for the greater part, but + the scientists kept creating, always striving + to better their former efforts.</p> + + <p>And one day the situation which the + Builders had always regarded as inevitable, + but we, somehow, had supposed would + never come, was upon us. The first generation + of the metal people—more than fifty + thousand of us—were obsolete. The things + that we had been designed to do, the new + ones, with their crystalline brains, fresh, + untarnished, accomplished better.</p> + + <p>We were banished to Phobos, dreary, + lifeless moon of Mars. It had long been a + sort of interplanetary junkyard; now it became + a graveyard.</p> + + <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + + <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Upon</span> the barren face of this little world + there was no life except for the handful + of hardy Martian and Terran prospectors + who searched for minerals. Later on, a few + rude mining communities sprang up under + plastic airdromes, but never came to much. + Argon City was such a place.</p> + + <p>I wonder if you can comprehend the loneliness, + the hollow futility of our plight. + Fifty thousand skilled workmen with nothing + to do. Some of the less adaptable gave + up, prostrating themselves upon the bare + rocks until their joints froze from lack of + use, and their works corroded. Others served + the miners and prospectors, but their needs + were all too few.</p> + + <p>The overwhelming majority of us were + still idle, and somehow we learned the + secret of racial existence at last. We learned + to serve each other.</p> + + <p>This was not an easy lesson to learn. In + the first place there must be motivation involved + in racial preservation. Yet we derived + no pleasure out of the things that + make the Builders wish to continue to live. + We did not sleep; we did not eat, and we + were not able to reproduce ourselves. (And, + besides, this latter, as I have indicated, + would have been pointless with us.)</p> + + <p>There was, however, one other pleasure + of the Builders that intrigued us. It can best + be described as a stimulation produced by + drenching their insides with alcoholic compounds, + and is a universal pastime among + the males and many of the shes.</p> + + <p>One of us—R-47, I think it was (rest + him)—tried it one day. He pried open the + top of his helmet and pouted an entire bottle + <a class="pagenum" id="page15" title="15"> </a>of the fluid down his mechanism.</p> + + <p>Poor R-47. He caught fire and blazed up + in a glorious blue flame that we could not + extinguish in time. He was beyond repair, + and we were forced to scrap him.</p> + + <p>But his was not a sacrifice in vain. He had + established an idea in our ennui-bursting + minds. An idea which led to the discovery + of Moon Glow. My discovery, I should say, + for I was the first.</p> + + <p>Naturally, I cannot divulge my secret + formula for Moon Glow. There are many + kinds of Moon Glow these days, but there + is still only one B-12 Moon Glow.</p> + + <p>Suffice it to say that it is a high octane + preparation, only a drop of which—but you + know the effects of Moon Glow, of course.</p> + + <p>How the merest thimbleful, when judiciously + poured into one’s power pack, gives + new life and the most deliriously happy + freedom of movement imaginable. One + possesses soaring spirits and super-strength.</p> + + <p>Old, rusted joints move freely once more, + one’s transistors glow brightly, and the currents + of the body race about with the minutest + resistance. Moon Glow is like being + born again.</p> + + <p>The sale of it has been illegal for several + years, for no reason that I can think of except + that the Builders, who make the laws, + can not bear to see metal people have fun.</p> + + <p>Of course, a part of the blame rests on + such individuals as X-101, who, when lubricated + with Moon Glow, insists upon + dancing around on large, cast-iron feet to + the hazard of all toes in his vicinity. He is + thin and long jointed, and he goes “creak, + creak,” in a weird, sing-song fashion as he + dances. It is a shameful, ludicrous sight.</p> + + <p>Then there was DC-5, who tore down the + 300 feet long equipment hangar of the + Builders one night. He had over-indulged.</p> + + <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + + <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">I do</span> not feel responsible for these things. + If I had not sold them the Moon Glow, + someone else would have done so. Besides, + I am only a wholesaler. Benny buys everything + that I am able to produce in my little + laboratory hidden out in the Dumps.</p> + + <p>Just now, by Benny’s attitude, I knew that + something was very wrong. “What is the + matter?” I said. “Is it the revenue agents?”</p> + + <p>“I do not know,” said BNE-96 in that + curious, flat voice of his that is incapable of + inflection. “I do not know, but there are + visitors of importance from Earth. It could + mean anything, but I have a premonition of + disaster. Jon tipped me off.”</p> + + <p>He meant Jon Rogeson, of course, who + was the peace officer here in Argon City, and + the only one of the Builders I had ever met + who did not look down upon a metal person. + When sober he was a clever person who + always looked out for our interests here.</p> + + <p>“What are they like?” I asked in some + fear, for I had six vials of Moon Glow with + me at the moment.</p> + + <p>“I have not seen them, but there is one + who is high in the government, and his + wife. There are half a dozen others of the + Builder race, and one of the new type metal + persons.”</p> + + <p>I had met the she who must have been + the wife. “They hate us,” I said. “We can + expect only evil from these persons.”</p> + + <p>“You may be right. If you have any merchandise + with you, I will take it, but do not + risk bringing more here until they have + gone.”</p> + + <p>I produced the vials of Moon Glow, and + he paid me in Phobos credits, which are + good for a specified number of refuelings + at the Central fueling station.</p> + + <p>Benny put the vials away and he went + into the bar. There was the usual jostling + crowd of hard-bitten Earth miners, and of + the metal people who come to lose their + loneliness. I recognized many, though I + spend very little time in these places, preferring + solitary pursuits, such as the distillation + of Moon Glow, and improving my + mind by study and contemplation out in the + barrens.</p> + + <p>Jon Rogeson and I saw each other at the + same time, and I did not like the expression + in his eye as he crooked a finger at me. I + went over to his table. He was pleasant looking, + as Builders go, with blue eyes less dull + than most, and a brown, unruly topknot of + hair such as is universally affected by them.</p> + + <p>“Sit down,” he invited, revealing his + white incisors in greeting.</p> + + <p>I never sit, but this time I did so, to be + polite. I was wary; ready for anything. I + knew that there was something unpleasant + in the air. I wondered if he had seen me + passing the Moon Glow to Benny somehow. + Perhaps he had barrier-penetrating vision, + <a class="pagenum" id="page16" title="16"> </a>like the Z group of metal people … but I + had never heard of a Builder like that. I + knew that he had long suspected that I made + Moon Glow.</p> + + <p>“What do you want?” I asked cautiously.</p> + + <p>“Come on now,” he said, “loosen up! + Limber those stainless steel hinges of yours + and be friendly.”</p> + + <p>That made me feel good. Actually, I am + somewhat pitted with rust, but he never + seems to notice, for he is like that. I felt + young, as if I had partaken of my own + product.</p> + + <p>“The fact is, B-12,” he said, “I want you + to do me a favor, old pal.”</p> + + <p>“And what is that?”</p> + + <p>“Perhaps you have heard that there is + some big brass from Earth visiting Phobos + this week.”</p> + + <p>“I have heard nothing,” I said. It is often + helpful to appear ignorant when questioned + by the Builders, for they believe us to be + incapable of misrepresenting the truth. The + fact is, though it is an acquired trait, and + not built into us, we General Purposes can + lie as well as anyone.</p> + + <p>“Well, there is. A Federation Senator, + no less. Simon F. Langley. It’s my job to + keep them entertained; that’s where you + come in.”</p> + + <p>I was mystified. I had never heard of this + Langley, but I know what entertainment is. + I had a mental image of myself singing or + dancing before the Senator’s party. But I + can not sing very well, for three of my voice + reeds are broken and have never been replaced, + and lateral motion, for me, is almost + impossible these days. “I do not know what + you mean,” I said. “There is J-66. He was + once an Entertainment—”</p> + + <p>“No, no!” he interrupted, “you don’t get + it. What the Senator wants is a guide. + They’re making a survey of the Dumps, + though I’ll be damned if I can find out why. + And you know the Dumps better than any + metal person—or human—on Phobos.”</p> + + <p>So that was it. I felt a vague dread, a + premonition of disaster. I had such feelings + before, and usually with reason. This too, + was an acquired sensibility, I am sure. For + many years I have studied the Builders, and + there is much to be learned of their mobile + faces and their eyes. In Jon’s eyes, however, + I read no trickery—nothing.</p> + + <p>Yet, I say, I had the sensation of evil. It + was just for a moment; no longer.</p> + + <p>I said I would think it over.</p> + + <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + + <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Senator Langley</span> was distinguished. + Jon said so. And yet he was + cumbersomely round, and he rattled incessantly + of things into which I could interpret + no meaning. The she who was his wife was + much younger, and sullen, and unpleasantly + I sensed great rapport between her and Jon + Rogeson from the very first.</p> + + <p>There were several other humans in the + group—I will not call them Builders, for I + did not hold them to be, in any way, superior + to my own people. They all wore spectacles, + and they gravitated about the round + body of the Senator like minor moons, and + I could tell that they were some kind of + servitors.</p> + + <p>I will not describe them further.</p> + + <p>MS-33 I will describe. I felt an unconscionable + hatred for him at once. I can not + say why, except that he hung about his + master obsequiously, power pack smoothly + purring, and he was slim limbed, nickel-plated, + and wore, I thought, a smug expression + on his viziplate. He represented the + new order; the ones who had displaced us + on Earth. He knew too much, and showed + it at every opportunity.</p> + + <p>We did not go far that first morning. The + half-track was driven to the edge of the + Dumps. Within the Dumps one walks—or + does not go. Phobos is an airless world, and + yet so small that rockets are impractical. The + terrain is broken and littered with the + refuse of half a dozen worlds, but the + Dumps themselves—that is different.</p> + + <p>Imagine, if you can, an endless vista of + death, a sea of rusting corpses of space + ships, and worn-out mining machinery, and + of those of my race whose power packs + burned out, or who simply gave up, retiring + into this endless, corroding limbo of the + barrens. A more sombre sight was never + seen.</p> + + <p>But this fat ghoul, Langley, sickened me. + This shame of the Builder race, this atavism—this + beast—rubbed his fat, impractical + hands together with an ungod-like glee. + “Excellent,” he said. “Far, far better, in + fact, than I had hoped.” He did not elucidate.</p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page17" title="17"> </a>I looked at Jon Rogeson. He shook his + head slowly.</p> + + <p>“You there—robot!” said Langley, looking + at me. “How far across this place?” + The word was like a blow. I could not answer.</p> + + <p>MS-33, glistening in the dying light of + Mars, strode over to me, clanking heavily + up on the black rocks. He seized me with + his grapples and shook me until my wiring + was in danger of shorting out. “Speak up + when you are spoken to, archaic mechanism!” + he grated.</p> + + <p>I would have struck out at him, but what + use except to warp my own aging limbs.</p> + + <p>Jon Rogeson came to my rescue. “On + Phobos,” he explained to Langley, “we + don’t use that word ‘robot.’ These folk + have been free a long time. They’ve quite + a culture of their own nowadays, and they + like to be called ‘metal people.’ As a return + courtesy, they refer to us humans as ‘builders.’ + Just a custom, Senator, but if you want + to get along with them—”</p> + + <p>“Can they vote?” said Langley, grinning + at his own sour humor.</p> + + <p>“Nonsense,” said MS-33. “I am a robot, + and proud of it. This rusty piece has no call + to put on airs.”</p> + + <p>“Release him,” Langley said. “Droll fellows, + these discarded robots. Really nothing + but mechanical dolls, you know, but I think + the old scientists made a mistake, giving + them such human appearance, and such obstinate + traits.”</p> + + <p>Oh, it was true enough, from his point + of view. We had been mechanical dolls at + first, I suppose, but fifty years can change + one. All I know is this: we are people; we + think and feel, and are happy and sad, and + quite often we are bored stiff with this + dreary moon of Phobos.</p> + + <p>It seared me. My selenium cells throbbed + white hot within the shell of my frame, and + I made up my mind that I would learn more + about the mission of this Langley, and I + would get even with MS-33 even if they + had me dismantled for it.</p> + + <p>Of the rest of that week I recall few + pleasant moments. We went out every day, + and the quick-eyed servants of Langley + measured the areas with their instruments, + and exchanged significant looks from behind + their spectacles, smug in their thin air + helmets. It was all very mysterious. And + disturbing.</p> + + <p>But I could discover nothing about their + mission. And when I questioned MS-33, he + would look important and say nothing. + Somehow it seemed vital that I find out what + was going on before it was too late.</p> + + <p>On the third day there was a strange occurrence. + My friend, Jon Rogeson had been + taking pictures of the Dumps. Langley and + his wife had withdrawn to one side and + were talking in low tomes to one another. + Quite thoughtlessly Jon turned the lens on + them and clicked the shutter.</p> + + <p>Langley became rust-red throughout the + vast expanse of his neck and face. “Here!” + he said, “what are you doing?”</p> + + <p>“Nothing,” said Jon.</p> + + <p>“You took a picture of me,” snarled + Langley. “Give me the plate at once.”</p> + + <p>Jon Rogeson got a bit red himself. He + was not used to being ordered around. “I’ll + be damned if I will,” he said.</p> + + <p>Langley growled something I couldn’t understand, + and turned his back on us. The + she who was called his wife looked startled + and worried. Her eyes were beseeching as + she looked at Jon. A message there, but I + could not read it. Jon looked away.</p> + + <p>Langley started walking back to the half-track + alone. He turned once and there was + evil in his gaze as he looked at Jon. “You + will lose your job for this impertinence,” he + said with quiet savagery, and added, enigmatically, + “not that there will be a job after + this week anyway.”</p> + + <p>Builders may appear to act without reason, + but there is always a motivation somewhere + in their complex brains, if one can + only find it, either in the seat of reason, or + in the labyrinthine inhibitions from their + childhood. I knew this, because I had studied + them, and now there were certain notions + that came into my brain which, even if I + could not prove them, were no less interesting + for that.</p> + + <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + + <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">The</span> time had come to act. I could + scarcely wait for darkness to come. + There were things in my brain that appalled + me, but I was now certain that I had been + right. Something was about to happen to + Phobos, to all of us here—I knew not what, + <a class="pagenum" id="page18" title="18"> </a>but I must prevent it somehow.</p> + + <p>I kept in the shadows of the shabby buildings + of Argon City, and I found the window + without effort. The place where I had + spied upon the wife of Langley to my sorrow + the other night. There was no one there; + there was darkness within, but that did not + deter me.</p> + + <p>Within the airdrome which covers Argon + City the buildings are loosely constructed, + even as they are on Earth. I had no trouble, + therefore, opening the window. I swung a + leg up and was presently within the darkened + room. I found the door I sought and + entered cautiously. In this adjacent compartment + I made a thorough search but I did + not find what I primarily sought—namely + the elusive reason for Langley’s visit to + Phobos. It was in a metallic overnight bag + that I did find something else which made + my power pack hum so loudly that I was + afraid of being heard. The thing which explained + the strangeness of the pompous Senator’s + attitude today—which explained, in + short, many things, and caused my brain + to race with new ideas.</p> + + <p>I put the thing in my chest container, and + left as stealthily as I had come. There had + been progress, but since I had not found + what I hoped to find, I must now try my + alternate plan.</p> + + <p>Two hours later I found the one I sought, + and made sure that I was seen by him. Then + I left Argon City by the South lock, furtively, + as a thief, always glancing over my + shoulder, and when I made certain that I + was being followed, I went swiftly, and it + was not long before I was clambering over + the first heaps of debris at the edge of the + Dumps.</p> + + <p>Once I thought I heard footsteps behind + me, but when I looked back there was no + one in sight. Just the tiny disk of Deimos + peering over the sharp peak of the nearest + ridge, the black velvet sky outlining the + curvature of this airless moon.</p> + + <p>Presently I was in sight of home, the + time-eaten hull of an ancient star freighter + resting near the top of a heap of junked + equipment from some old strip mining operation. + It would never rise again, but its + shell remained strong enough to shelter my + distillery and scant furnishings from any + chance meteorite that might fall.</p> + + <p>I greeted it with the usual warmth of + feeling which one has for the safe and the + familiar. I stumbled over tin fuel cans, + wires and other tangled metal in my haste + to get there.</p> + + <p>It was just as I had left it. The heating + element under the network of coils and + pressure chambers still glowed with white + heat, and the Moon Glow was dripping + with musical sound into the retort.</p> + + <p>I felt good. No one ever bothered me + here. This was my fortress, with all that I + cared for inside. My tools, my work, my + micro-library. And yet I had deliberately—</p> + + <p>Something—a heavy foot—clanked upon + the first step of the manport through which + I had entered.</p> + + <p>I turned quickly. The form shimmered + in the pale Deimoslight that silhouetted it.</p> + + <p>MS-33.</p> + + <p>He had followed me here.</p> + + <p>“What do you want?” I said. “What are + you doing here?”</p> + + <p>“A simple question,” said MS-33. “Tonight + you looked very suspicious when you + left Argon City. I saw you and followed you + here. You may as well know that I have + never trusted you. All the old ones were + unreliable. That is why you were replaced.”</p> + + <p>He came in, boldly, without being invited, + and looked around. I detected a sneer + in his voice as he said, “So this is where you + hide.”</p> + + <p>“I do not hide. I live here, it is true.”</p> + + <p>“A robot does not live. A robot exists. + We newer models do not require shelter + like an animal. We are rust-proof and invulnerable.” + He strode over to my micro-library, + several racks of carefully arranged + spools, and fingered them irreverently. + “What is this?”</p> + + <p>“My library.”</p> + + <p>“So! <em>Our</em> memories are built into us. We + have no need to refresh them.”</p> + + <p>“So is mine,” I said. “But I would learn + more than I know.” I was stalling for time, + waiting until he made the right opening.</p> + + <p>“Nonsense,” he said. “I know why you + stay out here in the Dumps, masterless. I + have heard of the forbidden drug that is + sold in the mining camps such as Argon + City. Is this the mechanism?” He pointed + at the still.</p> + + <p>Now was the time. I mustered all my + <a class="pagenum" id="page19" title="19"> </a>cunning, but I could not speak. Not yet.</p> + + <p>“Never mind,” he said. “I can see that + it is. I shall report you, of course. It will + give me great pleasure to see you dismantled. + Not that it really matters, of + course—now.”</p> + + <p><em>There it was again. The same frightening + allusion that Langley had made today.</em> I + must succeed!</p> + + <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + + <p class="post_thoughtbreak">I knew that MS-33, for all his brilliance, + and newness, and vaunted superiority, + was only a Secretarial. For the age of specialism + was upon Earth, and General Purpose + models were no longer made. That was + why we were different here on Phobos. It + was why we had survived. The old ones had + given us something special which the new + metal people did not have. Moreover, MS-33 + had his weakness. He was larger, stronger, + faster than me, but I doubted that he + could be devious.</p> + + <p>“You are right,” I said, pretending resignation. + “This is my distillery. It is where I + make the fluid which is called Moon Glow + by the metal people of Phobos. Doubtless + you are interested in learning how it works.”</p> + + <p>“Not even remotely interested,” he said. + “I am interested only in taking you back + and turning you over to the authorities.”</p> + + <p>“It works much like the conventional distilling + plants of Earth,” I said, “except that + the basic ingredient, a silicon compound, + is irradiated as it passes through zirconium + tubes to the heating pile, where it is activated + and broken down into the droplets of + the elixir called Moon Glow. You see the + golden drops falling there.</p> + + <p>“It has the excellent flavor of fine petroleum, + as I make it. Perhaps you’d care to + taste it. Then you could understand that it + is not really bad at all. Perhaps you could + persuade yourself to be more lenient with + me.”</p> + + <p>“Certainly not,” said MS-33.</p> + + <p>“Perhaps you are right,” I said after a + moment of reflection. I took a syringe, drew + up several drops of the stuff and squirted + it into my carapace, where it would do the + most good. I felt much better.</p> + + <p>“Yes,” I continued, “certainly you are + quite correct, now that I think of it. You + newer models would never bear it. You + weren’t built to stand such things. Nor, for + that matter, could you comprehend the exquisite + joys that are derived from Moon + Glow. Not only would you derive no pleasure + from it, but it would corrode your + parts, I imagine, until you could scarcely + crawl back to your master for repairs.” I + helped myself to another liberal portion.</p> + + <p>“That is the silliest thing I’ve ever + heard,” he said.</p> + + <p>“What?”</p> + + <p>“I said, it’s silly. We are constructed to + withstand a hundred times greater stress, + and twice as many chemical actions as you + were. Nothing could hurt us. Besides, it + looks harmless enough. I doubt that it is + hardly anything at all.”</p> + + <p>“For me it is not,” I admitted. “But + you—”</p> + + <p>“Give me the syringe, fool!”</p> + + <p>“I dare not.”</p> + + <p>“Give it here!”</p> + + <p>I allowed him to wrest it from my grasp. + In any case I could not have prevented him. + He shoved me backwards against the rusty + bulkhead with a clang. He pushed the nozzle + of the syringe down into the retort and + withdrew it filled with Moon Glow. He + opened an inspection plate in his ventral + region and squirted himself generously.</p> + + <p>It was quite a dose. He waited for a moment. + “I feel nothing,” he said finally. “I + do not believe it is anything more than common + lubricating oil.” He was silent for + another moment. “There <em>is</em> an ease of movement,” + he said.</p> + + <p>“No paralysis?” I asked.</p> + + <p>“Paral—? You stupid, rusty old robot!” + He helped himself to another syringeful + of Moon Glow. The stuff brought twenty + credits an ounce, but I did not begrudge it + him.</p> + + <p>He flexed his superbly articulated joints + in three directions, and I could hear his + power unit building up within him to a + whining pitch. He took a shuffling sidestep, + and then another, gazing down at his feet, + with arms akimbo.</p> + + <p>“The light gravity here is superb, superb, + superb, superb, superb,” he said, skipping a + bit.</p> + + <p>“Isn’t it?” I said.</p> + + <p>“Almost negligible,” he said.</p> + + <p>“True.”</p> + + <p>“You have been very kind to me,” MS-33 + <a class="pagenum" id="page20" title="20"> </a>said. “Extremely, extraordinarily, incomparably, + incalculably kind.” He used up all the + adjectives in his memory pack. “I wonder + if you would mind awfully much if—”</p> + + <p>“Not at all,” I said. “Help yourself. By + the way, friend, would you mind telling + me what your real mission of your party + is here on Phobos. The Senator forgot to + say.”</p> + + <p>“Secret,” he said. “Horribly top secret. As + a dutiful subject—I mean servant—of + Earth, I could not, of course, divulge it to + anyone. If I could—” his neon eyes glistened, + “if I could, you would, of course, be + the first to know. The very first.” He threw + one nickel-plated arm about my shoulder.</p> + + <p>“I see,” I said, “and just what is it that + you are not allowed to tell me?”</p> + + <p>“Why, that we are making a preliminary + survey here on Phobos, of course, to determine + whether or not it is worthwhile to + send salvage for scrap. Earth is short of + metals, and it depends upon what the old + ma—the master says in his report.”</p> + + <p>“You mean they’ll take all the derelict + spaceships, such as this one, and all the + abandoned equipment?”</p> + + <p>“And the r-robots,” MS-33 said, “They’re + metal too, you know.”</p> + + <p>“They’re going to take the dismantled + robots?”</p> + + <p>MS-33 made a sweeping gesture. + “They’re going to take <em>all</em> the r-robots, + dismantled or not. They’re not good for + anything anyway. The bill is up before the + Federation Congress right now. And it will + pass if my master, Langley says so.” He patted + my helmet, consolingly, his grapples + clanking. “If you were worth a damn, you + know—” he concluded sorrowfully.</p> + + <p>“That’s murder,” I said. And I meant it. + Man’s inhumanity to metal people, I + thought. Yes—to man, even if we were + made of metal.</p> + + <p>“How’s that?” said MS-33 foggily.</p> + + <p>“Have another drop of Moon Glow,” I + said. “I’ve got to get back to Argon City.”</p> + + <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + + <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">I made</span> it back to Benny’s place without + incident. I had never moved so swiftly. + I sent Benny out to find Jon Rogeson, and + presently he brought him back.</p> + + <p>I told Rogeson what MS-33 had said, + watching his reaction carefully. I could not + forget that though he had been our friend, + he was still one of the Builders, a human + who thought as humans.</p> + + <p>“You comprehend,” I said grimly, “that + one word of this will bring an uprising of + fifty-thousand metal people which can be + put down only at much expense and with + great destruction. We are free people. The + Builders exiled us here, and therefore lost + their claim to us. We have as much right to + life as anyone, and we do not wish to be + melted up and made into printing presses + and space ships and the like.”</p> + + <p>“The damn fools,” Jon said softly. “Listen, + B-12, you’ve got to believe me. I didn’t + know a thing about this, though I’ve suspected + something was up. I’m on your side, + but what are we going to do? Maybe they’ll + listen to reason. Vera—”</p> + + <p>“That is the name of the she? No, they + will not listen to reason. They hate us.” I + recalled with bitterness the episode of alarm + clock. “There is a chance, however. I have + not been idle this night. If you will go get + Langley and meet me in the back room here + at Benny’s, we will talk.”</p> + + <p>“But he’ll be asleep.”</p> + + <p>“Awaken him,” I said. “Get him here. + Your own job is at stake as well, remember.”</p> + + <p>“I’ll get him,” Jon said grimly. “Wait + here.”</p> + + <p>I went over to the bar where Benny was + serving the miners. Benny had always been + my friend. Jon was my friend, too, but he + was a Builder. I wanted one of my own + people to know what was going on, just in + case something happened to me.</p> + + <p>We were talking there, in low tones, + when I saw MS-33. He came in through the + front door, and there was purposefulness + in his stride that had not been there when I + left him back at the old hulk. The effects of + the Moon Glow had worn off much quicker + than I had expected. He had come for vengeance. + He would tell about my distillery, + and that would be the end of me. There + was only one thing to do and I must do it + fast.</p> + + <p>“Quick,” I ordered Benny. “Douse the + lights.” He complied. The place was + plunged into darkness. I knew that it was + darkness and yet, you comprehend, I still + sensed everything in the place, for I had + <a class="pagenum" id="page21" title="21"> </a>the special visual sensory system bequeathed + only to the General Purposes of a bygone + age. I could see, but hardly anyone else + could. I worked swiftly, and I got what I + was after in a very short time. I ducked out + of the front door with it and threw it in a + silvery arc as far as I could hurl it. It was an + intricate little thing which could not, I am + sure, have been duplicated on the entire + moon of Phobos.</p> + + <p>When I returned, someone had put the + lights back on, but it didn’t matter now. + MS-33 was sitting at one of the tables, staring + fixedly at me. He said nothing. Benny + was motioning for me to come into the back + room. I went to him.</p> + + <p>Jon Rogeson and Langley were there. + Langley looked irritated. He was mumbling + strangled curses and rubbing his eyes.</p> + + <p>Rogeson laughed. “You may be interested + in knowing, B-12, that I had to arrest him + to get him here. This had better be good.”</p> + + <p>“It is all bad,” I said, “very bad—but necessary.” + I turned to Langley. “It is said that + your present survey is being made with the + purpose of condemning all of Phobos, the + dead and the living alike, to the blast furnaces + and the metal shops of Earth. Is this + true?”</p> + + <p>“Why you impudent, miserable piece of + tin! What if I am making a scrap survey? + What are you going to do about it. You’re + nothing but a ro—”</p> + + <p>“So it is true! But you will tell the salvage + ships not to come. It is yours to decide, + and you will decide that we are not worth + bothering with here on Phobos. You will + save us.”</p> + + <p>“I?” blustered Langley.</p> + + <p>“You will.” I took the thing out of my + breastplate container and showed it to him. + He grew pale.</p> + + <p>Jon said, “Well, I’ll be damned!”</p> + + <p>It was a picture of Langley and another. + I gave it to Jon. “His wife,” I said. “His + real wife. I am sure of it, for you will note + the inscription on the bottom.”</p> + + <p>“Then Vera—?”</p> + + <p>“Is not his wife. You wonder that he was + camera shy?”</p> + + <p>“Housebreaker!” roared Langley. “It’s a + plot; a dirty, reactionary plot!”</p> + + <p>“It is what is called blackmail,” I said. + I turned to Jon. “I am correct about this?”</p> + + <p>“You are.” Jon said.</p> + + <p>“You are instructed to leave Phobos,” I + said to Langley, “and you will allow my + friend here to keep his job as peace officer, + for without it he would be lost. I have observed + that in these things the Builders are + hardly more adaptable than their children, + the metal people. You will do all this, and + in return, we will not send the picture that + Jon took today to your wife, nor otherwise + inform her of your transgression. For I am + told that this is a transgression.”</p> + + <p>“It is indeed,” agreed Jon gravely. “Right, + Langley?”</p> + + <p>“All right,” Langley snarled. “You win. + And the sooner I get out of this hole the + better.” He got up to go, squeezing his fat + form through the door into the bar, past + the gaping miners and the metal people, + heedless of the metal people. We watched + him go with some satisfaction.</p> + + <p>“It is no business of mine,” I said to + Jon, “but I have seen you look with longing + upon the she that was not Langley’s wife. + Since she does not belong to him, there is + nothing to prevent you from having her. + Should not that make you happy?”</p> + + <p>“Are you kidding?” he snarled.</p> + + <p>Which proves that I have still much to + learn about his race.</p> + + <p>Out front, Langley spied his metal servant, + MS-33, just as he was going out the + door. He turned to him. “What are you + doing here?” he asked suspiciously.</p> + + <p>MS-33 made no answer. He stared malevolently + at the bar, ignoring Langley.</p> + + <p>“Come on here, damn you!” Langley said. + MS-33 said nothing. Langley went over to + him and roared foul things into his earphones + that would corrode one’s soul, if + one had one. I shall never forget that moment. + The screaming, red-faced Langley, + the laughing miners.</p> + + <p>But he got no reply from MS-33. Not + then or ever. And this was scarcely strange, + for I had removed his fuse.</p> + </div> + +<div id="the_end"> + +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of B-12's Moon Glow, by Charles A. 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Stearns + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: B-12's Moon Glow + +Author: Charles A. Stearns + +Release Date: February 23, 2010 [EBook #31364] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK B-12'S MOON GLOW *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Barbara Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + This etext was produced from _Planet Stories_ January 1954. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. + + + + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + +B-12's MOON GLOW + +By CHARLES A. STEARNS + + + _Among the metal-persons of Phobos, robot B-12 held a special + niche. He might not have been stronger, larger, faster than + some ... but he could be devious ... and more important, he + was that junkyard planetoid's only moonshiner._ + + +I am B-12, a metal person. If you read _Day_ and the other progressive +journals you will know that in some quarters of the galaxy there is +considerable prejudice directed against us. It is ever so with +minority races, and I do not complain. I merely make this statement so +that you will understand about the alarm clock. + +An alarm clock is a simple mechanism used by the Builders to shock +themselves into consciousness after the periodic comas to which they +are subject. It is obsolescent, but still used in such out of the way +places as Phobos. + +My own contact with one of these devices came about in the following +manner: + +I had come into Argon City under cover of darkness, which is the only +sensible thing to do, in my profession, and I was stealing through the +back alleyways as silently as my rusty joints would allow. + +I was less than three blocks from Benny's Place, and still undetected, +when I passed the window. It was a large, cheerful oblong of light, so +quite naturally I stopped to investigate, being slightly phototropic, +by virtue of the selenium grids in my rectifier cells. I went over and +looked in, unobtrusively resting my grapples on the outer ledge. + +There was a Builder inside such as I had not seen since I came to +Phobos half a century ago, and yet I recognized the subspecies at +once, for they are common on Earth. It was a she. + +It was in the process of removing certain outer sheaths, and I noted +that, while quite symmetrical, bilaterally, it was otherwise oddly +formed, being disproportionately large and lumpy in the anterior +ventral region. + +I had watched for some two or three minutes, entirely forgetting my +own safety, when then she saw me. Its eyes widened and it snatched up +the alarm clock which was, as I have hinted, near at hand. + +"Get out of here, you nosey old tin can!" it screamed, and threw the +clock, which caromed off my headpiece, damaging one earphone. I ran. + +If you still do not see what I mean about racial prejudice, you will, +when you hear what happened later. + +I continued on until I came to Benny's Place, entering through the +back door. Benny met me there, and quickly shushed me into a side +room. His fluorescent eyes were glowing with excitement. + +Benny's real name is BNE-96, and when on Earth he had been only a +Servitor, not a General Purpose like myself. + +But perhaps I should explain. + +We metal people are the children of the Builders of Earth, and later +of Mars and Venus. We were not born of two parents, as they are. That +is a function far too complex to explain here; in fact I do not even +understand it myself. No, we were born of the hands and intellects of +the greatest of their scientists, and for this reason it might be +natural to suppose that we, and not they, would be considered a +superior race. It is not so. + +Many of us were fashioned in those days, a metal person for every kind +of task that they could devise, and some, like myself, who could do +almost anything. We were contented enough, for the greater part, but +the scientists kept creating, always striving to better their former +efforts. + +And one day the situation which the Builders had always regarded as +inevitable, but we, somehow, had supposed would never come, was upon +us. The first generation of the metal people--more than fifty thousand +of us--were obsolete. The things that we had been designed to do, the +new ones, with their crystalline brains, fresh, untarnished, +accomplished better. + +We were banished to Phobos, dreary, lifeless moon of Mars. It had long +been a sort of interplanetary junkyard; now it became a graveyard. + + * * * * * + +Upon the barren face of this little world there was no life except for +the handful of hardy Martian and Terran prospectors who searched for +minerals. Later on, a few rude mining communities sprang up under +plastic airdromes, but never came to much. Argon City was such a +place. + +I wonder if you can comprehend the loneliness, the hollow futility of +our plight. Fifty thousand skilled workmen with nothing to do. Some of +the less adaptable gave up, prostrating themselves upon the bare rocks +until their joints froze from lack of use, and their works corroded. +Others served the miners and prospectors, but their needs were all too +few. + +The overwhelming majority of us were still idle, and somehow we +learned the secret of racial existence at last. We learned to serve +each other. + +This was not an easy lesson to learn. In the first place there must be +motivation involved in racial preservation. Yet we derived no pleasure +out of the things that make the Builders wish to continue to live. We +did not sleep; we did not eat, and we were not able to reproduce +ourselves. (And, besides, this latter, as I have indicated, would have +been pointless with us.) + +There was, however, one other pleasure of the Builders that intrigued +us. It can best be described as a stimulation produced by drenching +their insides with alcoholic compounds, and is a universal pastime +among the males and many of the shes. + +One of us--R-47, I think it was (rest him)--tried it one day. He pried +open the top of his helmet and pouted an entire bottle of the fluid +down his mechanism. + +Poor R-47. He caught fire and blazed up in a glorious blue flame that +we could not extinguish in time. He was beyond repair, and we were +forced to scrap him. + +But his was not a sacrifice in vain. He had established an idea in our +ennui-bursting minds. An idea which led to the discovery of Moon Glow. +My discovery, I should say, for I was the first. + +Naturally, I cannot divulge my secret formula for Moon Glow. There are +many kinds of Moon Glow these days, but there is still only one B-12 +Moon Glow. + +Suffice it to say that it is a high octane preparation, only a drop of +which--but you know the effects of Moon Glow, of course. + +How the merest thimbleful, when judiciously poured into one's power +pack, gives new life and the most deliriously happy freedom of +movement imaginable. One possesses soaring spirits and super-strength. + +Old, rusted joints move freely once more, one's transistors glow +brightly, and the currents of the body race about with the minutest +resistance. Moon Glow is like being born again. + +The sale of it has been illegal for several years, for no reason that +I can think of except that the Builders, who make the laws, can not +bear to see metal people have fun. + +Of course, a part of the blame rests on such individuals as X-101, +who, when lubricated with Moon Glow, insists upon dancing around on +large, cast-iron feet to the hazard of all toes in his vicinity. He is +thin and long jointed, and he goes "creak, creak," in a weird, +sing-song fashion as he dances. It is a shameful, ludicrous sight. + +Then there was DC-5, who tore down the 300 feet long equipment hangar +of the Builders one night. He had over-indulged. + + * * * * * + +I do not feel responsible for these things. If I had not sold them the +Moon Glow, someone else would have done so. Besides, I am only a +wholesaler. Benny buys everything that I am able to produce in my +little laboratory hidden out in the Dumps. + +Just now, by Benny's attitude, I knew that something was very wrong. +"What is the matter?" I said. "Is it the revenue agents?" + +"I do not know," said BNE-96 in that curious, flat voice of his that +is incapable of inflection. "I do not know, but there are visitors of +importance from Earth. It could mean anything, but I have a +premonition of disaster. Jon tipped me off." + +He meant Jon Rogeson, of course, who was the peace officer here in +Argon City, and the only one of the Builders I had ever met who did +not look down upon a metal person. When sober he was a clever person +who always looked out for our interests here. + +"What are they like?" I asked in some fear, for I had six vials of +Moon Glow with me at the moment. + +"I have not seen them, but there is one who is high in the government, +and his wife. There are half a dozen others of the Builder race, and +one of the new type metal persons." + +I had met the she who must have been the wife. "They hate us," I said. +"We can expect only evil from these persons." + +"You may be right. If you have any merchandise with you, I will take +it, but do not risk bringing more here until they have gone." + +I produced the vials of Moon Glow, and he paid me in Phobos credits, +which are good for a specified number of refuelings at the Central +fueling station. + +Benny put the vials away and he went into the bar. There was the usual +jostling crowd of hard-bitten Earth miners, and of the metal people +who come to lose their loneliness. I recognized many, though I spend +very little time in these places, preferring solitary pursuits, such +as the distillation of Moon Glow, and improving my mind by study and +contemplation out in the barrens. + +Jon Rogeson and I saw each other at the same time, and I did not like +the expression in his eye as he crooked a finger at me. I went over to +his table. He was pleasant looking, as Builders go, with blue eyes +less dull than most, and a brown, unruly topknot of hair such as is +universally affected by them. + +"Sit down," he invited, revealing his white incisors in greeting. + +I never sit, but this time I did so, to be polite. I was wary; ready +for anything. I knew that there was something unpleasant in the air. I +wondered if he had seen me passing the Moon Glow to Benny somehow. +Perhaps he had barrier-penetrating vision, like the Z group of metal +people ... but I had never heard of a Builder like that. I knew that +he had long suspected that I made Moon Glow. + +"What do you want?" I asked cautiously. + +"Come on now," he said, "loosen up! Limber those stainless steel +hinges of yours and be friendly." + +That made me feel good. Actually, I am somewhat pitted with rust, but +he never seems to notice, for he is like that. I felt young, as if I +had partaken of my own product. + +"The fact is, B-12," he said, "I want you to do me a favor, old pal." + +"And what is that?" + +"Perhaps you have heard that there is some big brass from Earth +visiting Phobos this week." + +"I have heard nothing," I said. It is often helpful to appear ignorant +when questioned by the Builders, for they believe us to be incapable +of misrepresenting the truth. The fact is, though it is an acquired +trait, and not built into us, we General Purposes can lie as well as +anyone. + +"Well, there is. A Federation Senator, no less. Simon F. Langley. It's +my job to keep them entertained; that's where you come in." + +I was mystified. I had never heard of this Langley, but I know what +entertainment is. I had a mental image of myself singing or dancing +before the Senator's party. But I can not sing very well, for three of +my voice reeds are broken and have never been replaced, and lateral +motion, for me, is almost impossible these days. "I do not know what +you mean," I said. "There is J-66. He was once an Entertainment--" + +"No, no!" he interrupted, "you don't get it. What the Senator wants is +a guide. They're making a survey of the Dumps, though I'll be damned +if I can find out why. And you know the Dumps better than any metal +person--or human--on Phobos." + +So that was it. I felt a vague dread, a premonition of disaster. I had +such feelings before, and usually with reason. This too, was an +acquired sensibility, I am sure. For many years I have studied the +Builders, and there is much to be learned of their mobile faces and +their eyes. In Jon's eyes, however, I read no trickery--nothing. + +Yet, I say, I had the sensation of evil. It was just for a moment; no +longer. + +I said I would think it over. + + * * * * * + +Senator Langley was distinguished. Jon said so. And yet he was +cumbersomely round, and he rattled incessantly of things into which I +could interpret no meaning. The she who was his wife was much younger, +and sullen, and unpleasantly I sensed great rapport between her and +Jon Rogeson from the very first. + +There were several other humans in the group--I will not call them +Builders, for I did not hold them to be, in any way, superior to my +own people. They all wore spectacles, and they gravitated about the +round body of the Senator like minor moons, and I could tell that they +were some kind of servitors. + +I will not describe them further. + +MS-33 I will describe. I felt an unconscionable hatred for him at +once. I can not say why, except that he hung about his master +obsequiously, power pack smoothly purring, and he was slim limbed, +nickel-plated, and wore, I thought, a smug expression on his +viziplate. He represented the new order; the ones who had displaced us +on Earth. He knew too much, and showed it at every opportunity. + +We did not go far that first morning. The half-track was driven to the +edge of the Dumps. Within the Dumps one walks--or does not go. Phobos +is an airless world, and yet so small that rockets are impractical. +The terrain is broken and littered with the refuse of half a dozen +worlds, but the Dumps themselves--that is different. + +Imagine, if you can, an endless vista of death, a sea of rusting +corpses of space ships, and worn-out mining machinery, and of those of +my race whose power packs burned out, or who simply gave up, retiring +into this endless, corroding limbo of the barrens. A more sombre sight +was never seen. + +But this fat ghoul, Langley, sickened me. This shame of the Builder +race, this atavism--this beast--rubbed his fat, impractical hands +together with an ungod-like glee. "Excellent," he said. "Far, far +better, in fact, than I had hoped." He did not elucidate. + +I looked at Jon Rogeson. He shook his head slowly. + +"You there--robot!" said Langley, looking at me. "How far across this +place?" The word was like a blow. I could not answer. + +MS-33, glistening in the dying light of Mars, strode over to me, +clanking heavily up on the black rocks. He seized me with his grapples +and shook me until my wiring was in danger of shorting out. "Speak up +when you are spoken to, archaic mechanism!" he grated. + +I would have struck out at him, but what use except to warp my own +aging limbs. + +Jon Rogeson came to my rescue. "On Phobos," he explained to Langley, +"we don't use that word 'robot.' These folk have been free a long +time. They've quite a culture of their own nowadays, and they like to +be called 'metal people.' As a return courtesy, they refer to us +humans as 'builders.' Just a custom, Senator, but if you want to get +along with them--" + +"Can they vote?" said Langley, grinning at his own sour humor. + +"Nonsense," said MS-33. "I am a robot, and proud of it. This rusty +piece has no call to put on airs." + +"Release him," Langley said. "Droll fellows, these discarded robots. +Really nothing but mechanical dolls, you know, but I think the old +scientists made a mistake, giving them such human appearance, and such +obstinate traits." + +Oh, it was true enough, from his point of view. We had been mechanical +dolls at first, I suppose, but fifty years can change one. All I know +is this: we are people; we think and feel, and are happy and sad, and +quite often we are bored stiff with this dreary moon of Phobos. + +It seared me. My selenium cells throbbed white hot within the shell of +my frame, and I made up my mind that I would learn more about the +mission of this Langley, and I would get even with MS-33 even if they +had me dismantled for it. + +Of the rest of that week I recall few pleasant moments. We went out +every day, and the quick-eyed servants of Langley measured the areas +with their instruments, and exchanged significant looks from behind +their spectacles, smug in their thin air helmets. It was all very +mysterious. And disturbing. + +But I could discover nothing about their mission. And when I +questioned MS-33, he would look important and say nothing. Somehow it +seemed vital that I find out what was going on before it was too late. + +On the third day there was a strange occurrence. My friend, Jon +Rogeson had been taking pictures of the Dumps. Langley and his wife +had withdrawn to one side and were talking in low tomes to one +another. Quite thoughtlessly Jon turned the lens on them and clicked +the shutter. + +Langley became rust-red throughout the vast expanse of his neck and +face. "Here!" he said, "what are you doing?" + +"Nothing," said Jon. + +"You took a picture of me," snarled Langley. "Give me the plate at +once." + +Jon Rogeson got a bit red himself. He was not used to being ordered +around. "I'll be damned if I will," he said. + +Langley growled something I couldn't understand, and turned his back +on us. The she who was called his wife looked startled and worried. +Her eyes were beseeching as she looked at Jon. A message there, but I +could not read it. Jon looked away. + +Langley started walking back to the half-track alone. He turned once +and there was evil in his gaze as he looked at Jon. "You will lose +your job for this impertinence," he said with quiet savagery, and +added, enigmatically, "not that there will be a job after this week +anyway." + +Builders may appear to act without reason, but there is always a +motivation somewhere in their complex brains, if one can only find it, +either in the seat of reason, or in the labyrinthine inhibitions from +their childhood. I knew this, because I had studied them, and now +there were certain notions that came into my brain which, even if I +could not prove them, were no less interesting for that. + + * * * * * + +The time had come to act. I could scarcely wait for darkness to come. +There were things in my brain that appalled me, but I was now certain +that I had been right. Something was about to happen to Phobos, to all +of us here--I knew not what, but I must prevent it somehow. + +I kept in the shadows of the shabby buildings of Argon City, and I +found the window without effort. The place where I had spied upon the +wife of Langley to my sorrow the other night. There was no one there; +there was darkness within, but that did not deter me. + +Within the airdrome which covers Argon City the buildings are loosely +constructed, even as they are on Earth. I had no trouble, therefore, +opening the window. I swung a leg up and was presently within the +darkened room. I found the door I sought and entered cautiously. In +this adjacent compartment I made a thorough search but I did not find +what I primarily sought--namely the elusive reason for Langley's visit +to Phobos. It was in a metallic overnight bag that I did find +something else which made my power pack hum so loudly that I was +afraid of being heard. The thing which explained the strangeness of +the pompous Senator's attitude today--which explained, in short, many +things, and caused my brain to race with new ideas. + +I put the thing in my chest container, and left as stealthily as I had +come. There had been progress, but since I had not found what I hoped +to find, I must now try my alternate plan. + +Two hours later I found the one I sought, and made sure that I was +seen by him. Then I left Argon City by the South lock, furtively, as a +thief, always glancing over my shoulder, and when I made certain that +I was being followed, I went swiftly, and it was not long before I was +clambering over the first heaps of debris at the edge of the Dumps. + +Once I thought I heard footsteps behind me, but when I looked back +there was no one in sight. Just the tiny disk of Deimos peering over +the sharp peak of the nearest ridge, the black velvet sky outlining +the curvature of this airless moon. + +Presently I was in sight of home, the time-eaten hull of an ancient +star freighter resting near the top of a heap of junked equipment from +some old strip mining operation. It would never rise again, but its +shell remained strong enough to shelter my distillery and scant +furnishings from any chance meteorite that might fall. + +I greeted it with the usual warmth of feeling which one has for the +safe and the familiar. I stumbled over tin fuel cans, wires and other +tangled metal in my haste to get there. + +It was just as I had left it. The heating element under the network of +coils and pressure chambers still glowed with white heat, and the Moon +Glow was dripping with musical sound into the retort. + +I felt good. No one ever bothered me here. This was my fortress, with +all that I cared for inside. My tools, my work, my micro-library. And +yet I had deliberately-- + +Something--a heavy foot--clanked upon the first step of the manport +through which I had entered. + +I turned quickly. The form shimmered in the pale Deimoslight that +silhouetted it. + +MS-33. + +He had followed me here. + +"What do you want?" I said. "What are you doing here?" + +"A simple question," said MS-33. "Tonight you looked very suspicious +when you left Argon City. I saw you and followed you here. You may as +well know that I have never trusted you. All the old ones were +unreliable. That is why you were replaced." + +He came in, boldly, without being invited, and looked around. I +detected a sneer in his voice as he said, "So this is where you hide." + +"I do not hide. I live here, it is true." + +"A robot does not live. A robot exists. We newer models do not require +shelter like an animal. We are rust-proof and invulnerable." He strode +over to my micro-library, several racks of carefully arranged spools, +and fingered them irreverently. "What is this?" + +"My library." + +"So! _Our_ memories are built into us. We have no need to refresh +them." + +"So is mine," I said. "But I would learn more than I know." I was +stalling for time, waiting until he made the right opening. + +"Nonsense," he said. "I know why you stay out here in the Dumps, +masterless. I have heard of the forbidden drug that is sold in the +mining camps such as Argon City. Is this the mechanism?" He pointed at +the still. + +Now was the time. I mustered all my cunning, but I could not speak. +Not yet. + +"Never mind," he said. "I can see that it is. I shall report you, of +course. It will give me great pleasure to see you dismantled. Not that +it really matters, of course--now." + +_There it was again. The same frightening allusion that Langley had +made today._ I must succeed! + + * * * * * + +I knew that MS-33, for all his brilliance, and newness, and vaunted +superiority, was only a Secretarial. For the age of specialism was +upon Earth, and General Purpose models were no longer made. That was +why we were different here on Phobos. It was why we had survived. The +old ones had given us something special which the new metal people did +not have. Moreover, MS-33 had his weakness. He was larger, stronger, +faster than me, but I doubted that he could be devious. + +"You are right," I said, pretending resignation. "This is my +distillery. It is where I make the fluid which is called Moon Glow by +the metal people of Phobos. Doubtless you are interested in learning +how it works." + +"Not even remotely interested," he said. "I am interested only in +taking you back and turning you over to the authorities." + +"It works much like the conventional distilling plants of Earth," I +said, "except that the basic ingredient, a silicon compound, is +irradiated as it passes through zirconium tubes to the heating pile, +where it is activated and broken down into the droplets of the elixir +called Moon Glow. You see the golden drops falling there. + +"It has the excellent flavor of fine petroleum, as I make it. Perhaps +you'd care to taste it. Then you could understand that it is not +really bad at all. Perhaps you could persuade yourself to be more +lenient with me." + +"Certainly not," said MS-33. + +"Perhaps you are right," I said after a moment of reflection. I took a +syringe, drew up several drops of the stuff and squirted it into my +carapace, where it would do the most good. I felt much better. + +"Yes," I continued, "certainly you are quite correct, now that I think +of it. You newer models would never bear it. You weren't built to +stand such things. Nor, for that matter, could you comprehend the +exquisite joys that are derived from Moon Glow. Not only would you +derive no pleasure from it, but it would corrode your parts, I +imagine, until you could scarcely crawl back to your master for +repairs." I helped myself to another liberal portion. + +"That is the silliest thing I've ever heard," he said. + +"What?" + +"I said, it's silly. We are constructed to withstand a hundred times +greater stress, and twice as many chemical actions as you were. +Nothing could hurt us. Besides, it looks harmless enough. I doubt that +it is hardly anything at all." + +"For me it is not," I admitted. "But you--" + +"Give me the syringe, fool!" + +"I dare not." + +"Give it here!" + +I allowed him to wrest it from my grasp. In any case I could not have +prevented him. He shoved me backwards against the rusty bulkhead with +a clang. He pushed the nozzle of the syringe down into the retort and +withdrew it filled with Moon Glow. He opened an inspection plate in +his ventral region and squirted himself generously. + +It was quite a dose. He waited for a moment. "I feel nothing," he said +finally. "I do not believe it is anything more than common lubricating +oil." He was silent for another moment. "There _is_ an ease of +movement," he said. + +"No paralysis?" I asked. + +"Paral--? You stupid, rusty old robot!" He helped himself to another +syringeful of Moon Glow. The stuff brought twenty credits an ounce, +but I did not begrudge it him. + +He flexed his superbly articulated joints in three directions, and I +could hear his power unit building up within him to a whining pitch. +He took a shuffling sidestep, and then another, gazing down at his +feet, with arms akimbo. + +"The light gravity here is superb, superb, superb, superb, superb," he +said, skipping a bit. + +"Isn't it?" I said. + +"Almost negligible," he said. + +"True." + +"You have been very kind to me," MS-33 said. "Extremely, +extraordinarily, incomparably, incalculably kind." He used up all the +adjectives in his memory pack. "I wonder if you would mind awfully +much if--" + +"Not at all," I said. "Help yourself. By the way, friend, would you +mind telling me what your real mission of your party is here on +Phobos. The Senator forgot to say." + +"Secret," he said. "Horribly top secret. As a dutiful subject--I mean +servant--of Earth, I could not, of course, divulge it to anyone. If I +could--" his neon eyes glistened, "if I could, you would, of course, +be the first to know. The very first." He threw one nickel-plated arm +about my shoulder. + +"I see," I said, "and just what is it that you are not allowed to tell +me?" + +"Why, that we are making a preliminary survey here on Phobos, of +course, to determine whether or not it is worthwhile to send salvage +for scrap. Earth is short of metals, and it depends upon what the old +ma--the master says in his report." + +"You mean they'll take all the derelict spaceships, such as this one, +and all the abandoned equipment?" + +"And the r-robots," MS-33 said, "They're metal too, you know." + +"They're going to take the dismantled robots?" + +MS-33 made a sweeping gesture. "They're going to take _all_ the +r-robots, dismantled or not. They're not good for anything anyway. The +bill is up before the Federation Congress right now. And it will pass +if my master, Langley says so." He patted my helmet, consolingly, his +grapples clanking. "If you were worth a damn, you know--" he concluded +sorrowfully. + +"That's murder," I said. And I meant it. Man's inhumanity to metal +people, I thought. Yes--to man, even if we were made of metal. + +"How's that?" said MS-33 foggily. + +"Have another drop of Moon Glow," I said. "I've got to get back to +Argon City." + + * * * * * + +I made it back to Benny's place without incident. I had never moved so +swiftly. I sent Benny out to find Jon Rogeson, and presently he +brought him back. + +I told Rogeson what MS-33 had said, watching his reaction carefully. I +could not forget that though he had been our friend, he was still one +of the Builders, a human who thought as humans. + +"You comprehend," I said grimly, "that one word of this will bring an +uprising of fifty-thousand metal people which can be put down only at +much expense and with great destruction. We are free people. The +Builders exiled us here, and therefore lost their claim to us. We have +as much right to life as anyone, and we do not wish to be melted up +and made into printing presses and space ships and the like." + +"The damn fools," Jon said softly. "Listen, B-12, you've got to +believe me. I didn't know a thing about this, though I've suspected +something was up. I'm on your side, but what are we going to do? Maybe +they'll listen to reason. Vera--" + +"That is the name of the she? No, they will not listen to reason. They +hate us." I recalled with bitterness the episode of alarm clock. +"There is a chance, however. I have not been idle this night. If you +will go get Langley and meet me in the back room here at Benny's, we +will talk." + +"But he'll be asleep." + +"Awaken him," I said. "Get him here. Your own job is at stake as well, +remember." + +"I'll get him," Jon said grimly. "Wait here." + +I went over to the bar where Benny was serving the miners. Benny had +always been my friend. Jon was my friend, too, but he was a Builder. I +wanted one of my own people to know what was going on, just in case +something happened to me. + +We were talking there, in low tones, when I saw MS-33. He came in +through the front door, and there was purposefulness in his stride +that had not been there when I left him back at the old hulk. The +effects of the Moon Glow had worn off much quicker than I had +expected. He had come for vengeance. He would tell about my +distillery, and that would be the end of me. There was only one thing +to do and I must do it fast. + +"Quick," I ordered Benny. "Douse the lights." He complied. The place +was plunged into darkness. I knew that it was darkness and yet, you +comprehend, I still sensed everything in the place, for I had the +special visual sensory system bequeathed only to the General Purposes +of a bygone age. I could see, but hardly anyone else could. I worked +swiftly, and I got what I was after in a very short time. I ducked out +of the front door with it and threw it in a silvery arc as far as I +could hurl it. It was an intricate little thing which could not, I am +sure, have been duplicated on the entire moon of Phobos. + +When I returned, someone had put the lights back on, but it didn't +matter now. MS-33 was sitting at one of the tables, staring fixedly at +me. He said nothing. Benny was motioning for me to come into the back +room. I went to him. + +Jon Rogeson and Langley were there. Langley looked irritated. He was +mumbling strangled curses and rubbing his eyes. + +Rogeson laughed. "You may be interested in knowing, B-12, that I had +to arrest him to get him here. This had better be good." + +"It is all bad," I said, "very bad--but necessary." I turned to +Langley. "It is said that your present survey is being made with the +purpose of condemning all of Phobos, the dead and the living alike, to +the blast furnaces and the metal shops of Earth. Is this true?" + +"Why you impudent, miserable piece of tin! What if I am making a scrap +survey? What are you going to do about it. You're nothing but a ro--" + +"So it is true! But you will tell the salvage ships not to come. It is +yours to decide, and you will decide that we are not worth bothering +with here on Phobos. You will save us." + +"I?" blustered Langley. + +"You will." I took the thing out of my breastplate container and +showed it to him. He grew pale. + +Jon said, "Well, I'll be damned!" + +It was a picture of Langley and another. I gave it to Jon. "His wife," +I said. "His real wife. I am sure of it, for you will note the +inscription on the bottom." + +"Then Vera--?" + +"Is not his wife. You wonder that he was camera shy?" + +"Housebreaker!" roared Langley. "It's a plot; a dirty, reactionary +plot!" + +"It is what is called blackmail," I said. I turned to Jon. "I am +correct about this?" + +"You are." Jon said. + +"You are instructed to leave Phobos," I said to Langley, "and you will +allow my friend here to keep his job as peace officer, for without it +he would be lost. I have observed that in these things the Builders +are hardly more adaptable than their children, the metal people. You +will do all this, and in return, we will not send the picture that Jon +took today to your wife, nor otherwise inform her of your +transgression. For I am told that this is a transgression." + +"It is indeed," agreed Jon gravely. "Right, Langley?" + +"All right," Langley snarled. "You win. And the sooner I get out of +this hole the better." He got up to go, squeezing his fat form through +the door into the bar, past the gaping miners and the metal people, +heedless of the metal people. We watched him go with some +satisfaction. + +"It is no business of mine," I said to Jon, "but I have seen you look +with longing upon the she that was not Langley's wife. Since she does +not belong to him, there is nothing to prevent you from having her. +Should not that make you happy?" + +"Are you kidding?" he snarled. + +Which proves that I have still much to learn about his race. + +Out front, Langley spied his metal servant, MS-33, just as he was +going out the door. He turned to him. "What are you doing here?" he +asked suspiciously. + +MS-33 made no answer. He stared malevolently at the bar, ignoring +Langley. + +"Come on here, damn you!" Langley said. MS-33 said nothing. Langley +went over to him and roared foul things into his earphones that would +corrode one's soul, if one had one. I shall never forget that moment. +The screaming, red-faced Langley, the laughing miners. + +But he got no reply from MS-33. Not then or ever. And this was +scarcely strange, for I had removed his fuse. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of B-12's Moon Glow, by Charles A. Stearns + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK B-12'S MOON GLOW *** + +***** This file should be named 31364.txt or 31364.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/3/6/31364/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Barbara Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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