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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..73e0a49 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51185 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51185) diff --git a/old/51185-h.zip b/old/51185-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 915c63d..0000000 --- a/old/51185-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51185-h/51185-h.htm b/old/51185-h/51185-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index ce5a55d..0000000 --- a/old/51185-h/51185-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1391 +0,0 @@ -<!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=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of All Jackson's Children, by Daniel F. 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Galouye - -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/license - - -Title: All Jackson's Children - -Author: Daniel F. Galouye - -Release Date: February 11, 2016 [EBook #51185] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALL JACKSON'S CHILDREN *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="378" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>All Jackson's Children</h1> - -<p>By DANIEL F. GALOUYE</p> - -<p>Illustrated by FINLAY</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Science Fiction January 1957.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="359" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3"><i>Their chances hung literally on a prayer ...<br /> -which they had to answer all by themselves!</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Angus McIntosh vigorously scuffed the tarnished nameplate on the -wrecked cargo carrier. Then he stepped back and squinted under shaggy -gray eyebrows.</p> - -<p>Letter by letter, number by number, he coaxed out the designation -on the crumpled bow of the spacer in the vine-matted gorge: "RT ... -3070 ... VG-II."</p> - -<p>His lean frame tensed with concern as he turned to stare soberly at the -other. "A Vegan robot trader!"</p> - -<p>Bruce Drummond grinned. "Are we lucky! Clunkers are worth money—in any -condition."</p> - -<p>Angus snorted impatiently. "Let's get out of here, quick."</p> - -<p>"Get out?" the stocky Drummond repeated incredulously as he ran -thick-set fingers over the black stubble on his cheek. "Ain't we going -to salvage the clunkers? The book says they're ours after fifty years."</p> - -<p>"The hold's empty. There's no cargo."</p> - -<p>"There was when it landed. Look at the angle of incidence on those -fins."</p> - -<p>"Exactly." Frowning, Angus shifted his holster around on his hip and -strode back toward the plain. "Ever hear of a frustrated compulsion?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Drummond, following hesitantly, shook his head.</p> - -<p>"Those clunkers have to satisfy a basic behavior circuit," McIntosh -explained as he hastened his step. "We don't know what the compulsion -of this bunch is. Suppose—well, suppose they have a chiropractic -function. How'd you like to be the first person to show up after -they've been frustrated for a hundred years?"</p> - -<p>"Oh," Drummond said comprehendingly, stumbling to keep pace.</p> - -<p>Angus McIntosh brushed a mass of tendrils aside and stepped out on the -plain. "We'll report it and let them send in a deactivation crew. That -way, at least, we'll get fifty per cent of salvage and no danger."</p> - -<p>"Even that ain't bad—just for following an SOS a hundred light-years. -Taking an uncharted route and picking up that signal sure paid off -like—"</p> - -<p>Drummond gagged on his words as he gripped Angus's arm and pointed.</p> - -<p>Their ship was a shining oval, bobbing and weaving on a sea of silver -that surged across the plain toward a cliff on the left.</p> - -<p>"Clunkers!" Drummond gasped. "Hundreds of 'em—making off with our -boat!"</p> - -<p>He unholstered his weapon and fired.</p> - -<p>Angus struck his wrist sharply. "Why don't you just run out waving your -arms? We don't have enough firepower to get more than eight or ten of -them."</p> - -<p>But the warning was too late. Already the tide had washed away from the -ship and was surging toward the gorge.</p> - -<p>There was a noise behind them and Angus spun around. Ten feet away -stood a robot with the designation RA-204 on his breast-plate.</p> - -<p>"Welcome, O Jackson," the clunker said reverently.</p> - -<p>Then he hinged forward on his hip joints until his head almost touched -the ground. The gesture was a clockwork salaam.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>McIntosh's thin legs dangled in front of 204's breast-plate and his -ankles were secure in the grip of metal fingers as he rode the robot's -shoulders.</p> - -<p>RA-76 strode alongside, carrying a squirming and swearing Drummond. -Around them, the shining horde marched along noisily.</p> - -<p>"He has come!" cried one.</p> - -<p>"Jackson has come!" chanted the others of the shining horde.</p> - -<p>"He will show us the way!" shouted RA-204.</p> - -<p>Drummond kicked, but 76 only held his legs more firmly. Furious, -Drummond reached for his gun.</p> - -<p>"That's using your head," Angus said sarcastically. "Agitate them. Then -we'll never get out of here."</p> - -<p>Drummond let the weapon slip back into its holster. "What did we get -into—a nest of fanatics? Who's Jackson?"</p> - -<p>Angus helplessly shrugged his bony shoulders.</p> - -<p>The procession filtered through a narrow woods and broke out on another -plain, headed for the nearby cliff.</p> - -<p>Angus leaned forward. "Put me down, 204."</p> - -<p>"Thou art Jackson," said the robot solemnly. "And Thou art testing me -to see whether I would so easily abandon my Supervisor."</p> - -<p>"Not testing," Angus said. "Just asking. Come on, how about it?"</p> - -<p>"Praise Jackson!" 204 cried.</p> - -<p>"Jackson! Jackson!" intoned the throng.</p> - -<p>Drummond leaned an elbow on 76's skull plate and disgustedly cupped his -chin in his hand. "What if they <i>are</i> chiropractor robots?"</p> - -<p>"We'll probably need one after this ride," Angus said uncomfortably.</p> - -<p>"Not like we'll need a way to get back to the ship and cut off those -converters before they over-charge."</p> - -<p>"Slow charge?" Angus asked between grunts timed with 204's stride.</p> - -<p>"Hell, no. I didn't think we'd be here more than a couple of hours. By -tomorrow at this time, there'll be a crater out there big enough to -bury the Capellan fleet."</p> - -<p>"Great," said Angus. "That gives us another thing to worry about."</p> - -<p>The robots fell into two groups as they neared a cave in the cliff.</p> - -<p>"Jackson is my Supervisor!" chanted the ones on the right.</p> - -<p>"I shall not rust!" answered those on the left.</p> - -<p>"He maketh me to adjust my joint tension!" cried the first group.</p> - -<p>"Oh, brother," said Drummond.</p> - -<p>"Sounds like a psalm," suggested Angus.</p> - -<p>"You ought to know. You always got your nose in that Bible."</p> - -<p>"Notice anything peculiar about them?"</p> - -<p>"Very funny," sneered Drummond at the question.</p> - -<p>"No, I'm serious."</p> - -<p>"They bounce the daylights out of you when they walk," Drummond -grumbled.</p> - -<p>"No. Their finish. It's shiny—like they were fresh out of the -factory—not like they've been marooned here for a hundred years."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Drummond scratched his chin. "Maybe their compulsion is metal -polishing."</p> - -<p>"Not with the kind of fingers they have."</p> - -<p>Angus indicated the hand that held his ankle. Three digits were -wrenches of various sizes. The index finger was a screwdriver. The -thumb was a Stillson wrench. The thumb on the other hand was a disclike -appendage.</p> - -<p>Drummond hunched over. "76, what's your function?"</p> - -<p>The robot looked up. "To serve Jackson."</p> - -<p>"You're a big help," said Drummond.</p> - -<p>"Why dost thou tempt us, O Jackson?" asked RA-204. "Wouldst Thou test -our beliefs?"</p> - -<p>"We're no gods," Angus declared as the robot drew up before the cave.</p> - -<p>"Thou art Jackson!" insisted 204.</p> - -<p>Drummond and McIntosh were hoisted to a ledge beside the mouth of -the cave. The robots backed off, forming a half circle, and bowed in -obeisance.</p> - -<p>Angus ran a hand helplessly through his sparse gray hair. "Would you -say there are four hundred of them?"</p> - -<p>"At least." Drummond surveyed the expanse of metal bodies. "You know, -maybe they don't have a function."</p> - -<p>"Impossible. Hasn't been a clunker in five hundred years without a -primary compulsion."</p> - -<p>"Think they forgot theirs?"</p> - -<p>"Can't. They may forget how to put it in words, but the compulsion is -good for as long as their primary banks are intact. That's not what's -worrying me, though."</p> - -<p>"No?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Religious</i> robots! There can't be any such brand. Yet here they are."</p> - -<p>Drummond studied them silently.</p> - -<p>"Before there can be theological beliefs," McIntosh went on, "there -has to be some sort of foundation—the mystery of origin, the fear of -death, the concept of the hereafter. Clunkers <i>know</i> they come from a -factory. They <i>know</i> that when they're finally disassembled, they'll be -lifeless scrap metal."</p> - -<p>Drummond spat disdainfully. "One thing's for sure—this pack thinks -we're God Almighty."</p> - -<p>"Jackson Almighty," Angus corrected somberly.</p> - -<p>"Well, God or Jackson, we'd better get back to the ship or this is -going to be a long visitation."</p> - -<p>Drummond faced the almost prostrate robots and made a megaphone of his -hands. "All right, you guys! How's about knocking it off?"</p> - -<p>Slowly, the robots reared erect, waiting.</p> - -<p>"Take us back to our ship!"</p> - -<p>RA-204 stepped forward. "Again Thou art testing us, O Jackson."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Angus spread his arms imploringly. "Look, fellows. We're men. We're—"</p> - -<p>"Thou art our Supervisor!" the throng roared.</p> - -<p>"One of you is Jackson," explained 204. "The other is a Divine Test. We -must learn which is the True Supervisor."</p> - -<p>"You're <i>not</i> being tested!" McIntosh insisted.</p> - -<p>"Our beliefs are firm, O Jackson!" cried a hundred metallic voices.</p> - -<p>"Thou are the Supervisor!" declared 204 resolutely.</p> - -<p>"For God's sake," urged Drummond, "tell 'em you're their Jackson and -then lay down the law."</p> - -<p>"No. Can't do it that way."</p> - -<p>"Why not? Unfair advantage, I suppose?" There was a cutting edge on the -younger man's words.</p> - -<p>Angus stared thoughtfully at the robots. "If we only knew how they -forgot their origin, how they got religion, we might find a way to get -through to them."</p> - -<p>Drummond laughed contemptuously. "<i>You</i> figure it out. <i>I'm</i> going to -play Jackson and get back to the ship." He turned toward the robots.</p> - -<p>But McIntosh caught his arm. "Let me try something else first." He -faced the horde below. "Who made you?"</p> - -<p>"Thou hast, O Supervisor!" the robots chanted like a gleeful Sunday -school class.</p> - -<p>"And Thou hast put us on this world and robot begot robot until we were -as we are today," added 204 solemnly.</p> - -<p>Drummond slapped the heel of his hand against his forehead. "Now they -think they've got a sex function!"</p> - -<p>Angus's shoulders fell dismally. "Maybe if we try to figure out their -designation. They're all RAs—whatever the A stands for."</p> - -<p>There was a hollow rumbling in the cave that grew in volume until the -cliff shook. Then a second group of robots emerged and fanned out to -encircle the ledge.</p> - -<p>"Hell," said Drummond in consternation. "There's twice as many as we -figured!"</p> - -<p>"Thought there'd be more," Angus admitted. "That ship was big enough to -hold a thousand clunkers. And they didn't waste space in those days."</p> - -<p>The newcomers fell prostrate alongside the others.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The planet's single satellite hung like a lost gem over the low -mountains east of the plain. It washed the cliff with a cloak of -effulgence and bathed the forbidden ship in an aura of gleaming silver.</p> - -<p>Below the ledge, the reverent robots wavered occasionally and -highlights of coruscation played capriciously across their plates. -Their whispered invocations were a steady drone, like the soft touch of -the wind.</p> - -<p>"Quit it!" Drummond yelled angrily. "Break it up! Go home!"</p> - -<p>Angus sat with his head against the cliff, face tilted up. "That didn't -help any."</p> - -<p>"When are they going to give up?"</p> - -<p>McIntosh glanced abstractedly at the horde. "How long would we keep it -up if <i>our</i> God appeared among us?"</p> - -<p>Drummond swore. "Damned if you haven't been reading the print off that -Bible!"</p> - -<p>"What do you suppose happened," Angus went on heedlessly, "to make them -more than clunkers—to make them grope for the basic truths?"</p> - -<p>Drummond spat disgustedly in answer.</p> - -<p>"Civilization goes on for a hundred years," Angus said as he leaned -back and closed his eyes, "spreading across a hunk of the Galaxy, -carrying along its knowledge and religious convictions. And all the -while, there's this little lost island of mimic beliefs—so much like -our own creed, except that their god is called Jackson."</p> - -<p>Drummond rose and paced. "Well, you'll have plenty of time to set them -straight, if we're still sitting on this shelf eleven hours from now."</p> - -<p>"Maybe that's what it'll take—bringing them step by step through -theology."</p> - -<p>"Overnight?"</p> - -<p>No, not overnight, Angus realized. It would take months to pound in new -convictions.</p> - -<p>Drummond slipped down from the ledge. "Here goes nothing."</p> - -<p>Interestedly, Angus folded his arms and watched the other square his -shoulders and march off confidently through the ranks of robots toward -the ship in the distance.</p> - -<p>For a moment, it seemed he would succeed. But two of the RAs suddenly -reared erect and seized him by the arms. They bore him on their -shoulders and deposited him back on the ridge beside McIntosh.</p> - -<p>"Warm tonight," Drummond observed bitterly, glancing up at the sky.</p> - -<p>"Sure is," Angus agreed, his voice calm. "Wouldn't be surprised if we -got some rain tomorrow."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Drummond flipped another pebble and it <i>pinged</i> down on a metal back. -"Seven out of thirteen."</p> - -<p>"Getting good."</p> - -<p>"Look, let's tell 'em we're their Supervisor and end this marathon -worship."</p> - -<p>"Which one of us is going to play the divine role?"</p> - -<p>"What difference does it make?"</p> - -<p>Angus shrugged and his tired eyes stared off into the darkness. "One of -us is—Jackson. The other is an impostor, brought here to test their -faith. When they find out which is which, what are they going to do to -the impostor?"</p> - -<p>Drummond looked startled. "I see what you mean."</p> - -<p>The miniature moon had wheeled its way to the zenith and now the first -gray tinge of dawn silhouetted the peaks of the mountain range.</p> - -<p>Angus rose and stretched. "We've got to find out what their function -is."</p> - -<p>"Why?"</p> - -<p>"It looks like religion is their only interest. But maybe that's -because they're completely frustrated in their basic compulsion. If we -could discover their function, maybe we could focus their attention -back on it."</p> - -<p>"RA," Drummond mumbled puzzledly. "Robot agriculturist?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Angus shook his head. "They wouldn't be frustrated—not with a -whole planet to farm. Besides, they'd be equipped with agricultural -implements instead of wrenches."</p> - -<p>Drummond got up suddenly. "You figure it out. I have something else to -try."</p> - -<p>Angus followed him along the ledge until they reached the mouth of the -cave.</p> - -<p>"What are you going to do?"</p> - -<p>Drummond hitched his trousers. "The way we're ringed in here, it's a -cinch we won't get past 'em in the six hours we have left."</p> - -<p>"So you're going to make off through the cave?"</p> - -<p>The younger man nodded. "They might take off after me. That'll give you -a chance to get to the ship and cut off those converters before they -make like a nova."</p> - -<p>Angus chuckled. "Suppose half of them decide to stay here with me?"</p> - -<p>Drummond swore impatiently at his skepticism. "At any rate, one of us -might get back to the converters."</p> - -<p>"And leave the other here?"</p> - -<p>"He can say he's Jackson and order an attack in force on the ship."</p> - -<p>"I don't follow you."</p> - -<p>"Skidding the ship in a circle with the exhaust blowers on," Drummond -explained patiently, "will take care of <i>ten thousand</i> clunkers."</p> - -<p>He dropped from the ledge and raced into the cave. None of the robots -stirred. Either they hadn't noticed Drummond's departure, Angus -reasoned, or they weren't concerned because they knew the cave led -nowhere.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The sun came up, daubing the cliff with splotches of orange and purple -and striking up scintillations in the beads of dew on the robots' backs.</p> - -<p>And still the tiresomely shouted veneration continued.</p> - -<p>Angus paced the ledge, stopping occasionally to stare into the -impenetrable shadows of the cave. He checked his watch. Five hours to -go—five hours, and then time would be meaningless for the rest of his -life, with the ship destroyed.</p> - -<p>It was unlikely that rescue would come. The wrecked spacer's automatic -distress signals had gone out in an ever-expanding sphere for a hundred -years, and he and Drummond had been the only humans to hear them.</p> - -<p>Trade routes were pretty stable in this section of the Galaxy now. And -it was hardly possible that, within the next ten or twenty years, one -would be opened up that would intercept the SOS that had lured them -here.</p> - -<p>He stood up and surveyed the robots. "RA-204."</p> - -<p>204 reared erect. "Yes, Jackson?"</p> - -<p>"One of us is gone."</p> - -<p>"We know, O Supervisor."</p> - -<p>"Why did you let him get away?"</p> - -<p>"If he is not the True Jackson, it doesn't matter that he fled. If he -is the Supervisor, he will return. Otherwise, why did he come here to -us in the first place?"</p> - -<p>Another robot straightened. "We are ashamed, O Jackson, that we have -failed the Divine Test and have not recognized our True Supervisor."</p> - -<p>Angus held up his arms for silence. "Once there was a cargo of robots. -That was a hundred years ago. The ship was from Vega II. It developed -trouble and crashed when it tried to land on this planet. There was—"</p> - -<p>"What's a year, O Supervisor?" asked 204.</p> - -<p>"A Vega-two, Jackson?" said 76 bewilderedly.</p> - -<p>"What's a planet?" another wanted to know.</p> - -<p>McIntosh leaned back hopelessly against the cliff. All of their -memories and a good deal of their vocabularies had been lost. He could -determine how much only through days of conversation. It would take -weeks to learn their function, to rekindle a sense of duty sufficiently -strong to draw their interest away from religion. Unless—</p> - -<p>He drew resolutely erect. "Strip the converters! Pull the aft tube -lining!"</p> - -<p>The robots looked uncomprehendingly at him. It was obvious they weren't -trained for spacecraft maintenance.</p> - -<p>But it had to have something to do with mechanics. "A battle fleet is -orbiting at one diameter! Arm all warheads on the double!"</p> - -<p>They stared helplessly at one another, then back at Angus. Not -ordnancemen.</p> - -<p>"Pedestrian Strip Number Two is jammed! Crane crew, muster on the -right!"</p> - -<p>The robots shifted uncertainly. Apparently they weren't civic -maintenancemen, either.</p> - -<p>Defeated, Angus scanned their blank face plates. For a moment, it was -almost as though he could discern expressions of confusion. Then he -laughed at the thought that metal could accommodate a frown.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the robots shifted their gaze to the cave. Drummond, shoulders -sagging dismally, walked out and squinted against the glare. Several of -the robots started toward him.</p> - -<p>"Okay, okay!" he growled, heading back for the ledge before they could -reach him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"No luck?" Angus asked.</p> - -<p>Disgusted, Drummond clambered up beside him. "The cave's just a -nice-sized room."</p> - -<p>"Took you two hours to find that out?"</p> - -<p>The younger man shook his head. "I was hiding by the entrance, waiting -for the clunkers to break it up and give me a chance to run for the -ship.... How many robots did we decide there were?"</p> - -<p>"About eight hundred."</p> - -<p>"Wrong. You can add another four hundred or so."</p> - -<p>"In the cave?"</p> - -<p>Drummond nodded. "With their parts spread all the way from here to hell -and back."</p> - -<p>"Dismantled?"</p> - -<p>"Down to the last nut and bolt. They've even got their secondary memory -banks stripped."</p> - -<p>Angus was thoughtfully silent a long while. "RA ..." he said finally. -"Robot Assembler!"</p> - -<p>"That's what I figured." Drummond turned back toward the robots and -funneled his voice through his hands.</p> - -<p>"Okay, you clunkers! I want all odd-numbered RAs stripped down for -reconditioning!" He glanced at Angus. "When they get through, I'll have -half of what's left strip the other half, and so forth."</p> - -<p>McIntosh grinned caustically. "Brilliant! The whole operation shouldn't -take more than two or three days." Then his face took on a grim cast. -"Drummond, we've only got four hours left to get to those converters."</p> - -<p>"But you don't understand. Once they get started, they'll be so busy, -we'll probably be able to walk away."</p> - -<p>Angus smiled indulgently. "Once they get started."</p> - -<p>He nodded toward the robots.</p> - -<p>They had all returned to their attitude of veneration.</p> - -<p>"It won't work," McIntosh explained. "Their obsession with religion is -stronger than their primary compulsion. That's probably because they've -been satisfying their compulsion all along." He jerked a thumb in the -direction of the cave.</p> - -<p>Drummond swore venomously.</p> - -<p>Angus dropped down on the ledge and folded his knees in his arms. He -felt his age bearing down on him for the first time.</p> - -<p>"Twelve hundred robots," he said meditatively. "Twelve hundred <i>RA</i> -robots. Out of touch with civilization for a century. Satisfying their -primary function by disassembling and assembling one another. Going at -it in shifts. Splitting themselves into three groups."</p> - -<p>"That device on their left thumb," Drummond interrupted. "It's a -burnisher. That's why they're so shiny."</p> - -<p>Angus nodded. "Three groups. Group A spends so many months stripping -and reassembling Group B. Meanwhile, Group C, which has just been put -together again, has no memory because their secondary banks have been -wiped clean. So, like children, they <i>learn</i> from the working Group A."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Drummond's mouth hung open in shocked understanding. "And by the time A -finishes the job, C's education is complete! And it's A's turn to be -stripped!"</p> - -<p>"By then," Angus went on, "Group C is not only ready to start stripping -Group A, but has also become intellectually mature enough to begin the -education of the reassembled Group B!"</p> - -<p>They sat still for a while, thinking it over.</p> - -<p>"The compulsion to do their jobs," McIntosh continued, "is unchanged -because the primary function banks are sealed circuits and can't be -tampered with. But in each generation, they have their secondary memory -circuits wiped clean and have to start all over, getting whatever -general knowledge they can from the last generation."</p> - -<p>Drummond snapped his fingers excitedly. "That's why they don't know -what we are! Their idea of Man had to be passed down by word of mouth. -And it got all distorted in the process!"</p> - -<p>Angus's stare, more solicitous now, swept slowly over the prostrate -robots. "More important, that's why they developed a religion. What's -the main difference between human and robotic intelligence? It's -that our span of life is limited on one end by birth, the other by -death—mysteries of origin and destiny that can't be explained. You -see, the <i>ordinary</i> clunker understands where <i>he</i> came from and where -he's going. But here are robots who have to struggle with those -mysteries—birth and death of the conscious intellect which they -themselves once knew, and forgot, and now have turned into myths."</p> - -<p>"So they start thinking in terms of religion," Drummond said. "Well, -that clears up the whole thing, doesn't it?"</p> - -<p>"Not quite. It doesn't explain why the religion they've invented -parallels ours so closely. And it doesn't tell us who Jackson is."</p> - -<p>Drummond ran thick fingernails against the stubble on his cheeks. -"Jackson is my Supervisor. I shall not rust. He maketh me to adjust -my joint tension—" He stopped and frowned. "I've heard that before -somewhere, only it sounded different."</p> - -<p>Angus gave him a wry, tired smile. "Sure. It's practically the Psalm of -David. Now you see why the resemblance is driving me batty."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The robots stirred. Several of them stood up and plodded into the -cave. The others continued repeating their endless praise and -devotion—prayers in every sense of the word except common sense.</p> - -<p>Angus leaned back against the cliff and let the sun's heat warm him.</p> - -<p>"Somehow it doesn't seem fair," he commented unhappily.</p> - -<p>"What doesn't?" Drummond asked.</p> - -<p>"They're so close to the Truth. Yet, after we file a report, a -deactivation crew will come along and erase their beliefs. They'll have -their memory banks swept clean and once more they'll be nothing but -clunkers with a factory-specification job of routine work to do."</p> - -<p>"Ain't that what they're supposed to be?"</p> - -<p>"But these are different. They've found something no clunker's ever -had before—hope, faith, aspiration beyond death." He shook his head -ruefully.</p> - -<p>There was movement at the mouth of the cave and the smaller group of -robots emerged from the shadows, two of them bearing a stone slab. -Their steps were ceremoniously slow as they approached the ledge. -Bowing, they placed the tablet at Angus's feet and backed away.</p> - -<p>"These are the articles of our faith, O Jackson," one announced. "We -have preserved them for Thy coming."</p> - -<p>McIntosh stared down at the charred remains of a book. Its metal-fiber -binding was shredded and fused and encrusted with the dust of ages.</p> - -<p>Drummond knelt beside it and, with stiff fingers, brushed away the film -of grime, uncovering part of the title:</p> - -<p class="ph4">OLY<br /> -BIB E</p> - -<p>Eagerly, Angus eased the cover back. Of the hundreds of pages it had -originally contained, only flaked parts of two or three remained. The -printing was scarcely legible on the moldy paper.</p> - -<p>He read aloud those words he could discern:</p> - -<p>"... to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside cool waters; -He...."</p> - -<p>Drummond jabbed Angus with a triumphant forefinger. "They didn't invent -any religion, after all!"</p> - -<p>"It isn't important <i>how</i> they got it. The fact that they accepted -it—that's what's important." McIntosh glanced up at Drummond. "They -probably found this in the wreck of the ship they'd been in. It's easy -to see they haven't used it in hundreds of generations. Instead, the -gist of what's in it was passed down orally. And their basic concepts -of Man and supervisor were distorted all along the way—confused with -the idea of God."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Gently, he let the cover fall. And a shining square of duraloid fell -out.</p> - -<p>"It's somebody's picture!" Drummond exclaimed.</p> - -<p>"An ID card," Angus said, holding it so the light wouldn't reflect off -its transparent protective cover.</p> - -<p>It was a picture of a nondescript man—not as stout as Drummond, nor as -lean as McIntosh—with hair neither all black, like the younger man's, -nor nearly all white, like Angus's.</p> - -<p>The print below the picture was indiscernible, except for the subject's -last name....</p> - -<p>"Jackson!" Drummond whispered.</p> - -<p>Angus slowly replaced the card. "A hundred years of false devotion," he -said pensively. "Just think—"</p> - -<p>"This is no time for that kind of gas." Drummond glanced at his watch. -"We got just two hours to cut off those converters." Desperately, he -faced the robots. "Hey, you clunkers! You're robot assemblers. You got -four hundred clunkers in that cave, all in pieces. Get in there and put -'em together!"</p> - -<p>Angus shook his head disapprovingly. Somehow it didn't seem right, -calling them clunkers.</p> - -<p>"Jackson is my Supervisor!" intoned RA-204.</p> - -<p>"Jackson is my Supervisor!" echoed the mass.</p> - -<p>Drummond glanced frantically at his watch, then looked helplessly at -Angus. Angus shrugged.</p> - -<p>The younger man's face suddenly tensed with resolution. "So they've got -to have a Jackson? All right, I'll give 'em one!"</p> - -<p>He waved his fist at the horde. "I'm your Supervisor! I'm your Jackson! -Now clear out of the way and—"</p> - -<p>RA-76's hand darted out and seized Drummond's ankle, tugged him off the -ledge. As he fell to the ground, a score of robots closed in over him, -metal arms flailing down methodically. Angus yelled at them to stop, -saw he was too late and sank down, turning away sickly.</p> - -<p>Finally, after a long while, they backed off and faced Angus.</p> - -<p>"We have passed the Divine test, O Jackson!" 204 shouted up jubilantly.</p> - -<p>"We have redeemed ourselves before our Supervisor!" exclaimed 76.</p> - -<p>It took a long, horror-filled moment before Angus could speak.</p> - -<p>"How do you know?" he managed to ask at last.</p> - -<p>"If he had been Jackson," exclaimed 204, "we could not have destroyed -him."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The robots fell prostrate again and returned to their devotional. But -now the phrases were triumphant, where before they had been servile and -uncertain.</p> - -<p>Angus stared numbly down at Drummond, then backed against the cliff. -The litany below, exuberant now, grew mightily in volume, booming -vibrantly against distant hills.</p> - -<p>"There is but one Supervisor!" intoned 204.</p> - -<p>"But one Jackson!" answered the assembly.</p> - -<p>"And now He dwelleth among His children!" 76 chanted.</p> - -<p>"In their midst!" boomed the hundreds.</p> - -<p>Suddenly it all seemed horribly ludicrous and Angus laughed. The -litany, stopped and his laughter grew shriller, louder, edged with -hysteria.</p> - -<p>The shimmering sea of metal, confounded, stared at him and it was as -though he could see fleshy furrows of confusion on the featureless -faces.... But how could a clunker show emotion?</p> - -<p>His laughter slowed and died, like the passing of a violent storm. And -he felt weakened with a sickening sense of compassion. Robots—<i>human</i> -robots—standing awed before unknown concepts while they groped -for Truth. Clunkers with a sense of right and wrong and with an -overwhelming love. It was absurd that he had been elected father of -twelve hundred children—whether flesh or metal—but it didn't <i>feel</i> -at all absurd.</p> - -<p>"Dost Thou despair of us, O Jackson?" asked 76 hesitantly, staring up -at him.</p> - -<p>204 motioned toward the ship, the top of its hull shining beyond the -nearby woods. "Wouldst Thou <i>still</i> return to Thy vessel, Supervisor?"</p> - -<p>Incredulous, Angus tensed. "You mean I can go?"</p> - -<p>"If that is Thy wish, True Jackson, you may go," said 76 submissively.</p> - -<p>As he watched unbelievingly, a corridor opened in their ranks, -extending toward the woods and the ship beyond. He glanced anxiously at -his watch. There was still more than an hour left.</p> - -<p>Wearily, he dropped from the ledge and trudged toward freedom, trying -to look straight ahead. His eyes, nevertheless, wandered to the -dejected figures who faced him with their heads bowed.</p> - -<p>Then he laughed again, realizing the illogical nature of his solicitous -thoughts. Imagine—<i>dejected</i> clunkers! Still, the metal faces seemed -somehow different. Where, a moment earlier, he had fancied expressions -of jubilation, now there was the sense of hopelessness on the steel -plates.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Shrugging off his uncertainty, he walked faster. After all, was it -<i>his</i> fault they'd stumbled upon a substitute for birth and death -and had become something more than clunkers? What was he supposed to -do—stay and play missionary, bring them the Truth so that when a -deactivation crew came along, they would be so advanced morally that no -one would suggest their destruction?</p> - -<p>He stopped and scanned the ranks on either side. He'd do one thing -for them, at least—he wouldn't report the wreck. Then it would be -centuries, probably, before another ship wandered far enough away from -the trade routes to intercept the distress signals.</p> - -<p>Relieved by his decision, he went ahead more at ease.</p> - -<p>And the litany started again—softly, appealing:</p> - -<p>"Jackson is my Supervisor."</p> - -<p>"I shall not rust...."</p> - -<p>Angus stiffened abruptly and stared at his watch, realizing belatedly -that it had stopped. But how long ago? How much time did he have left? -Should he take the chance and make a dash for the converters?</p> - -<p>He reached the end of the robot corridor and started to sprint for the -ship.</p> - -<p>But he halted and turned to glance back at the humble, patient horde. -They were expectantly silent now—as though they could sense his -indecision. He backed away from them.</p> - -<p>Then the light of a hundred Arcturan days flared briefly and a mighty -mountain of sound and concussion collapsed on him. The trees buckled -and branches were hurled out against the cliff. It rained leaves and -pieces of metal from the hull for a long while as Angus hugged the -ground.</p> - -<p>When he finally looked up, familiar bits of the ship were strewn -around him—a spacesuit helmet here, a control dial there, a -transmitter tube up ahead.</p> - -<p>He rose shakily, staring at a black book that lay near the helmet with -its pages ruffled. He picked it up and straightened out the leaves. -Then he motioned to the robots and they clustered around him.</p> - -<p>He would have to start from the beginning.</p> - -<p>He wet his lips.</p> - -<p>"In the beginning," Angus read in a loud, convincing voice, "<i>God</i> -created heaven and earth and the earth was void and empty and darkness -was upon the face of the deep. And <i>God</i> said, 'Let there be light'...."</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's All Jackson's Children, by Daniel F. 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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/51185-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/51185-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6e78798..0000000 --- a/old/51185-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51185-h/images/illus.jpg b/old/51185-h/images/illus.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index fa828f8..0000000 --- a/old/51185-h/images/illus.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51185.txt b/old/51185.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7513a58..0000000 --- a/old/51185.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1281 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of All Jackson's Children, by Daniel F. Galouye - -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/license - - -Title: All Jackson's Children - -Author: Daniel F. Galouye - -Release Date: February 11, 2016 [EBook #51185] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALL JACKSON'S CHILDREN *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - - All Jackson's Children - - By DANIEL F. GALOUYE - - Illustrated by FINLAY - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Science Fiction January 1957. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - Their chances hung literally on a prayer ... - which they had to answer all by themselves! - - -Angus McIntosh vigorously scuffed the tarnished nameplate on the -wrecked cargo carrier. Then he stepped back and squinted under shaggy -gray eyebrows. - -Letter by letter, number by number, he coaxed out the designation -on the crumpled bow of the spacer in the vine-matted gorge: "RT ... -3070 ... VG-II." - -His lean frame tensed with concern as he turned to stare soberly at the -other. "A Vegan robot trader!" - -Bruce Drummond grinned. "Are we lucky! Clunkers are worth money--in any -condition." - -Angus snorted impatiently. "Let's get out of here, quick." - -"Get out?" the stocky Drummond repeated incredulously as he ran -thick-set fingers over the black stubble on his cheek. "Ain't we going -to salvage the clunkers? The book says they're ours after fifty years." - -"The hold's empty. There's no cargo." - -"There was when it landed. Look at the angle of incidence on those -fins." - -"Exactly." Frowning, Angus shifted his holster around on his hip and -strode back toward the plain. "Ever hear of a frustrated compulsion?" - - * * * * * - -Drummond, following hesitantly, shook his head. - -"Those clunkers have to satisfy a basic behavior circuit," McIntosh -explained as he hastened his step. "We don't know what the compulsion -of this bunch is. Suppose--well, suppose they have a chiropractic -function. How'd you like to be the first person to show up after -they've been frustrated for a hundred years?" - -"Oh," Drummond said comprehendingly, stumbling to keep pace. - -Angus McIntosh brushed a mass of tendrils aside and stepped out on the -plain. "We'll report it and let them send in a deactivation crew. That -way, at least, we'll get fifty per cent of salvage and no danger." - -"Even that ain't bad--just for following an SOS a hundred light-years. -Taking an uncharted route and picking up that signal sure paid off -like--" - -Drummond gagged on his words as he gripped Angus's arm and pointed. - -Their ship was a shining oval, bobbing and weaving on a sea of silver -that surged across the plain toward a cliff on the left. - -"Clunkers!" Drummond gasped. "Hundreds of 'em--making off with our -boat!" - -He unholstered his weapon and fired. - -Angus struck his wrist sharply. "Why don't you just run out waving your -arms? We don't have enough firepower to get more than eight or ten of -them." - -But the warning was too late. Already the tide had washed away from the -ship and was surging toward the gorge. - -There was a noise behind them and Angus spun around. Ten feet away -stood a robot with the designation RA-204 on his breast-plate. - -"Welcome, O Jackson," the clunker said reverently. - -Then he hinged forward on his hip joints until his head almost touched -the ground. The gesture was a clockwork salaam. - - * * * * * - -McIntosh's thin legs dangled in front of 204's breast-plate and his -ankles were secure in the grip of metal fingers as he rode the robot's -shoulders. - -RA-76 strode alongside, carrying a squirming and swearing Drummond. -Around them, the shining horde marched along noisily. - -"He has come!" cried one. - -"Jackson has come!" chanted the others of the shining horde. - -"He will show us the way!" shouted RA-204. - -Drummond kicked, but 76 only held his legs more firmly. Furious, -Drummond reached for his gun. - -"That's using your head," Angus said sarcastically. "Agitate them. Then -we'll never get out of here." - -Drummond let the weapon slip back into its holster. "What did we get -into--a nest of fanatics? Who's Jackson?" - -Angus helplessly shrugged his bony shoulders. - -The procession filtered through a narrow woods and broke out on another -plain, headed for the nearby cliff. - -Angus leaned forward. "Put me down, 204." - -"Thou art Jackson," said the robot solemnly. "And Thou art testing me -to see whether I would so easily abandon my Supervisor." - -"Not testing," Angus said. "Just asking. Come on, how about it?" - -"Praise Jackson!" 204 cried. - -"Jackson! Jackson!" intoned the throng. - -Drummond leaned an elbow on 76's skull plate and disgustedly cupped his -chin in his hand. "What if they _are_ chiropractor robots?" - -"We'll probably need one after this ride," Angus said uncomfortably. - -"Not like we'll need a way to get back to the ship and cut off those -converters before they over-charge." - -"Slow charge?" Angus asked between grunts timed with 204's stride. - -"Hell, no. I didn't think we'd be here more than a couple of hours. By -tomorrow at this time, there'll be a crater out there big enough to -bury the Capellan fleet." - -"Great," said Angus. "That gives us another thing to worry about." - -The robots fell into two groups as they neared a cave in the cliff. - -"Jackson is my Supervisor!" chanted the ones on the right. - -"I shall not rust!" answered those on the left. - -"He maketh me to adjust my joint tension!" cried the first group. - -"Oh, brother," said Drummond. - -"Sounds like a psalm," suggested Angus. - -"You ought to know. You always got your nose in that Bible." - -"Notice anything peculiar about them?" - -"Very funny," sneered Drummond at the question. - -"No, I'm serious." - -"They bounce the daylights out of you when they walk," Drummond -grumbled. - -"No. Their finish. It's shiny--like they were fresh out of the -factory--not like they've been marooned here for a hundred years." - - * * * * * - -Drummond scratched his chin. "Maybe their compulsion is metal -polishing." - -"Not with the kind of fingers they have." - -Angus indicated the hand that held his ankle. Three digits were -wrenches of various sizes. The index finger was a screwdriver. The -thumb was a Stillson wrench. The thumb on the other hand was a disclike -appendage. - -Drummond hunched over. "76, what's your function?" - -The robot looked up. "To serve Jackson." - -"You're a big help," said Drummond. - -"Why dost thou tempt us, O Jackson?" asked RA-204. "Wouldst Thou test -our beliefs?" - -"We're no gods," Angus declared as the robot drew up before the cave. - -"Thou art Jackson!" insisted 204. - -Drummond and McIntosh were hoisted to a ledge beside the mouth of -the cave. The robots backed off, forming a half circle, and bowed in -obeisance. - -Angus ran a hand helplessly through his sparse gray hair. "Would you -say there are four hundred of them?" - -"At least." Drummond surveyed the expanse of metal bodies. "You know, -maybe they don't have a function." - -"Impossible. Hasn't been a clunker in five hundred years without a -primary compulsion." - -"Think they forgot theirs?" - -"Can't. They may forget how to put it in words, but the compulsion is -good for as long as their primary banks are intact. That's not what's -worrying me, though." - -"No?" - -"_Religious_ robots! There can't be any such brand. Yet here they are." - -Drummond studied them silently. - -"Before there can be theological beliefs," McIntosh went on, "there -has to be some sort of foundation--the mystery of origin, the fear of -death, the concept of the hereafter. Clunkers _know_ they come from a -factory. They _know_ that when they're finally disassembled, they'll be -lifeless scrap metal." - -Drummond spat disdainfully. "One thing's for sure--this pack thinks -we're God Almighty." - -"Jackson Almighty," Angus corrected somberly. - -"Well, God or Jackson, we'd better get back to the ship or this is -going to be a long visitation." - -Drummond faced the almost prostrate robots and made a megaphone of his -hands. "All right, you guys! How's about knocking it off?" - -Slowly, the robots reared erect, waiting. - -"Take us back to our ship!" - -RA-204 stepped forward. "Again Thou art testing us, O Jackson." - - * * * * * - -Angus spread his arms imploringly. "Look, fellows. We're men. We're--" - -"Thou art our Supervisor!" the throng roared. - -"One of you is Jackson," explained 204. "The other is a Divine Test. We -must learn which is the True Supervisor." - -"You're _not_ being tested!" McIntosh insisted. - -"Our beliefs are firm, O Jackson!" cried a hundred metallic voices. - -"Thou are the Supervisor!" declared 204 resolutely. - -"For God's sake," urged Drummond, "tell 'em you're their Jackson and -then lay down the law." - -"No. Can't do it that way." - -"Why not? Unfair advantage, I suppose?" There was a cutting edge on the -younger man's words. - -Angus stared thoughtfully at the robots. "If we only knew how they -forgot their origin, how they got religion, we might find a way to get -through to them." - -Drummond laughed contemptuously. "_You_ figure it out. _I'm_ going to -play Jackson and get back to the ship." He turned toward the robots. - -But McIntosh caught his arm. "Let me try something else first." He -faced the horde below. "Who made you?" - -"Thou hast, O Supervisor!" the robots chanted like a gleeful Sunday -school class. - -"And Thou hast put us on this world and robot begot robot until we were -as we are today," added 204 solemnly. - -Drummond slapped the heel of his hand against his forehead. "Now they -think they've got a sex function!" - -Angus's shoulders fell dismally. "Maybe if we try to figure out their -designation. They're all RAs--whatever the A stands for." - -There was a hollow rumbling in the cave that grew in volume until the -cliff shook. Then a second group of robots emerged and fanned out to -encircle the ledge. - -"Hell," said Drummond in consternation. "There's twice as many as we -figured!" - -"Thought there'd be more," Angus admitted. "That ship was big enough to -hold a thousand clunkers. And they didn't waste space in those days." - -The newcomers fell prostrate alongside the others. - - * * * * * - -The planet's single satellite hung like a lost gem over the low -mountains east of the plain. It washed the cliff with a cloak of -effulgence and bathed the forbidden ship in an aura of gleaming silver. - -Below the ledge, the reverent robots wavered occasionally and -highlights of coruscation played capriciously across their plates. -Their whispered invocations were a steady drone, like the soft touch of -the wind. - -"Quit it!" Drummond yelled angrily. "Break it up! Go home!" - -Angus sat with his head against the cliff, face tilted up. "That didn't -help any." - -"When are they going to give up?" - -McIntosh glanced abstractedly at the horde. "How long would we keep it -up if _our_ God appeared among us?" - -Drummond swore. "Damned if you haven't been reading the print off that -Bible!" - -"What do you suppose happened," Angus went on heedlessly, "to make them -more than clunkers--to make them grope for the basic truths?" - -Drummond spat disgustedly in answer. - -"Civilization goes on for a hundred years," Angus said as he leaned -back and closed his eyes, "spreading across a hunk of the Galaxy, -carrying along its knowledge and religious convictions. And all the -while, there's this little lost island of mimic beliefs--so much like -our own creed, except that their god is called Jackson." - -Drummond rose and paced. "Well, you'll have plenty of time to set them -straight, if we're still sitting on this shelf eleven hours from now." - -"Maybe that's what it'll take--bringing them step by step through -theology." - -"Overnight?" - -No, not overnight, Angus realized. It would take months to pound in new -convictions. - -Drummond slipped down from the ledge. "Here goes nothing." - -Interestedly, Angus folded his arms and watched the other square his -shoulders and march off confidently through the ranks of robots toward -the ship in the distance. - -For a moment, it seemed he would succeed. But two of the RAs suddenly -reared erect and seized him by the arms. They bore him on their -shoulders and deposited him back on the ridge beside McIntosh. - -"Warm tonight," Drummond observed bitterly, glancing up at the sky. - -"Sure is," Angus agreed, his voice calm. "Wouldn't be surprised if we -got some rain tomorrow." - - * * * * * - -Drummond flipped another pebble and it _pinged_ down on a metal back. -"Seven out of thirteen." - -"Getting good." - -"Look, let's tell 'em we're their Supervisor and end this marathon -worship." - -"Which one of us is going to play the divine role?" - -"What difference does it make?" - -Angus shrugged and his tired eyes stared off into the darkness. "One of -us is--Jackson. The other is an impostor, brought here to test their -faith. When they find out which is which, what are they going to do to -the impostor?" - -Drummond looked startled. "I see what you mean." - -The miniature moon had wheeled its way to the zenith and now the first -gray tinge of dawn silhouetted the peaks of the mountain range. - -Angus rose and stretched. "We've got to find out what their function -is." - -"Why?" - -"It looks like religion is their only interest. But maybe that's -because they're completely frustrated in their basic compulsion. If we -could discover their function, maybe we could focus their attention -back on it." - -"RA," Drummond mumbled puzzledly. "Robot agriculturist?" - - * * * * * - -Angus shook his head. "They wouldn't be frustrated--not with a -whole planet to farm. Besides, they'd be equipped with agricultural -implements instead of wrenches." - -Drummond got up suddenly. "You figure it out. I have something else to -try." - -Angus followed him along the ledge until they reached the mouth of the -cave. - -"What are you going to do?" - -Drummond hitched his trousers. "The way we're ringed in here, it's a -cinch we won't get past 'em in the six hours we have left." - -"So you're going to make off through the cave?" - -The younger man nodded. "They might take off after me. That'll give you -a chance to get to the ship and cut off those converters before they -make like a nova." - -Angus chuckled. "Suppose half of them decide to stay here with me?" - -Drummond swore impatiently at his skepticism. "At any rate, one of us -might get back to the converters." - -"And leave the other here?" - -"He can say he's Jackson and order an attack in force on the ship." - -"I don't follow you." - -"Skidding the ship in a circle with the exhaust blowers on," Drummond -explained patiently, "will take care of _ten thousand_ clunkers." - -He dropped from the ledge and raced into the cave. None of the robots -stirred. Either they hadn't noticed Drummond's departure, Angus -reasoned, or they weren't concerned because they knew the cave led -nowhere. - - * * * * * - -The sun came up, daubing the cliff with splotches of orange and purple -and striking up scintillations in the beads of dew on the robots' backs. - -And still the tiresomely shouted veneration continued. - -Angus paced the ledge, stopping occasionally to stare into the -impenetrable shadows of the cave. He checked his watch. Five hours to -go--five hours, and then time would be meaningless for the rest of his -life, with the ship destroyed. - -It was unlikely that rescue would come. The wrecked spacer's automatic -distress signals had gone out in an ever-expanding sphere for a hundred -years, and he and Drummond had been the only humans to hear them. - -Trade routes were pretty stable in this section of the Galaxy now. And -it was hardly possible that, within the next ten or twenty years, one -would be opened up that would intercept the SOS that had lured them -here. - -He stood up and surveyed the robots. "RA-204." - -204 reared erect. "Yes, Jackson?" - -"One of us is gone." - -"We know, O Supervisor." - -"Why did you let him get away?" - -"If he is not the True Jackson, it doesn't matter that he fled. If he -is the Supervisor, he will return. Otherwise, why did he come here to -us in the first place?" - -Another robot straightened. "We are ashamed, O Jackson, that we have -failed the Divine Test and have not recognized our True Supervisor." - -Angus held up his arms for silence. "Once there was a cargo of robots. -That was a hundred years ago. The ship was from Vega II. It developed -trouble and crashed when it tried to land on this planet. There was--" - -"What's a year, O Supervisor?" asked 204. - -"A Vega-two, Jackson?" said 76 bewilderedly. - -"What's a planet?" another wanted to know. - -McIntosh leaned back hopelessly against the cliff. All of their -memories and a good deal of their vocabularies had been lost. He could -determine how much only through days of conversation. It would take -weeks to learn their function, to rekindle a sense of duty sufficiently -strong to draw their interest away from religion. Unless-- - -He drew resolutely erect. "Strip the converters! Pull the aft tube -lining!" - -The robots looked uncomprehendingly at him. It was obvious they weren't -trained for spacecraft maintenance. - -But it had to have something to do with mechanics. "A battle fleet is -orbiting at one diameter! Arm all warheads on the double!" - -They stared helplessly at one another, then back at Angus. Not -ordnancemen. - -"Pedestrian Strip Number Two is jammed! Crane crew, muster on the -right!" - -The robots shifted uncertainly. Apparently they weren't civic -maintenancemen, either. - -Defeated, Angus scanned their blank face plates. For a moment, it was -almost as though he could discern expressions of confusion. Then he -laughed at the thought that metal could accommodate a frown. - -Suddenly the robots shifted their gaze to the cave. Drummond, shoulders -sagging dismally, walked out and squinted against the glare. Several of -the robots started toward him. - -"Okay, okay!" he growled, heading back for the ledge before they could -reach him. - - * * * * * - -"No luck?" Angus asked. - -Disgusted, Drummond clambered up beside him. "The cave's just a -nice-sized room." - -"Took you two hours to find that out?" - -The younger man shook his head. "I was hiding by the entrance, waiting -for the clunkers to break it up and give me a chance to run for the -ship.... How many robots did we decide there were?" - -"About eight hundred." - -"Wrong. You can add another four hundred or so." - -"In the cave?" - -Drummond nodded. "With their parts spread all the way from here to hell -and back." - -"Dismantled?" - -"Down to the last nut and bolt. They've even got their secondary memory -banks stripped." - -Angus was thoughtfully silent a long while. "RA ..." he said finally. -"Robot Assembler!" - -"That's what I figured." Drummond turned back toward the robots and -funneled his voice through his hands. - -"Okay, you clunkers! I want all odd-numbered RAs stripped down for -reconditioning!" He glanced at Angus. "When they get through, I'll have -half of what's left strip the other half, and so forth." - -McIntosh grinned caustically. "Brilliant! The whole operation shouldn't -take more than two or three days." Then his face took on a grim cast. -"Drummond, we've only got four hours left to get to those converters." - -"But you don't understand. Once they get started, they'll be so busy, -we'll probably be able to walk away." - -Angus smiled indulgently. "Once they get started." - -He nodded toward the robots. - -They had all returned to their attitude of veneration. - -"It won't work," McIntosh explained. "Their obsession with religion is -stronger than their primary compulsion. That's probably because they've -been satisfying their compulsion all along." He jerked a thumb in the -direction of the cave. - -Drummond swore venomously. - -Angus dropped down on the ledge and folded his knees in his arms. He -felt his age bearing down on him for the first time. - -"Twelve hundred robots," he said meditatively. "Twelve hundred _RA_ -robots. Out of touch with civilization for a century. Satisfying their -primary function by disassembling and assembling one another. Going at -it in shifts. Splitting themselves into three groups." - -"That device on their left thumb," Drummond interrupted. "It's a -burnisher. That's why they're so shiny." - -Angus nodded. "Three groups. Group A spends so many months stripping -and reassembling Group B. Meanwhile, Group C, which has just been put -together again, has no memory because their secondary banks have been -wiped clean. So, like children, they _learn_ from the working Group A." - - * * * * * - -Drummond's mouth hung open in shocked understanding. "And by the time A -finishes the job, C's education is complete! And it's A's turn to be -stripped!" - -"By then," Angus went on, "Group C is not only ready to start stripping -Group A, but has also become intellectually mature enough to begin the -education of the reassembled Group B!" - -They sat still for a while, thinking it over. - -"The compulsion to do their jobs," McIntosh continued, "is unchanged -because the primary function banks are sealed circuits and can't be -tampered with. But in each generation, they have their secondary memory -circuits wiped clean and have to start all over, getting whatever -general knowledge they can from the last generation." - -Drummond snapped his fingers excitedly. "That's why they don't know -what we are! Their idea of Man had to be passed down by word of mouth. -And it got all distorted in the process!" - -Angus's stare, more solicitous now, swept slowly over the prostrate -robots. "More important, that's why they developed a religion. What's -the main difference between human and robotic intelligence? It's -that our span of life is limited on one end by birth, the other by -death--mysteries of origin and destiny that can't be explained. You -see, the _ordinary_ clunker understands where _he_ came from and where -he's going. But here are robots who have to struggle with those -mysteries--birth and death of the conscious intellect which they -themselves once knew, and forgot, and now have turned into myths." - -"So they start thinking in terms of religion," Drummond said. "Well, -that clears up the whole thing, doesn't it?" - -"Not quite. It doesn't explain why the religion they've invented -parallels ours so closely. And it doesn't tell us who Jackson is." - -Drummond ran thick fingernails against the stubble on his cheeks. -"Jackson is my Supervisor. I shall not rust. He maketh me to adjust -my joint tension--" He stopped and frowned. "I've heard that before -somewhere, only it sounded different." - -Angus gave him a wry, tired smile. "Sure. It's practically the Psalm of -David. Now you see why the resemblance is driving me batty." - - * * * * * - -The robots stirred. Several of them stood up and plodded into the -cave. The others continued repeating their endless praise and -devotion--prayers in every sense of the word except common sense. - -Angus leaned back against the cliff and let the sun's heat warm him. - -"Somehow it doesn't seem fair," he commented unhappily. - -"What doesn't?" Drummond asked. - -"They're so close to the Truth. Yet, after we file a report, a -deactivation crew will come along and erase their beliefs. They'll have -their memory banks swept clean and once more they'll be nothing but -clunkers with a factory-specification job of routine work to do." - -"Ain't that what they're supposed to be?" - -"But these are different. They've found something no clunker's ever -had before--hope, faith, aspiration beyond death." He shook his head -ruefully. - -There was movement at the mouth of the cave and the smaller group of -robots emerged from the shadows, two of them bearing a stone slab. -Their steps were ceremoniously slow as they approached the ledge. -Bowing, they placed the tablet at Angus's feet and backed away. - -"These are the articles of our faith, O Jackson," one announced. "We -have preserved them for Thy coming." - -McIntosh stared down at the charred remains of a book. Its metal-fiber -binding was shredded and fused and encrusted with the dust of ages. - -Drummond knelt beside it and, with stiff fingers, brushed away the film -of grime, uncovering part of the title: - - OLY - BIB E - -Eagerly, Angus eased the cover back. Of the hundreds of pages it had -originally contained, only flaked parts of two or three remained. The -printing was scarcely legible on the moldy paper. - -He read aloud those words he could discern: - -"... to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside cool waters; -He...." - -Drummond jabbed Angus with a triumphant forefinger. "They didn't invent -any religion, after all!" - -"It isn't important _how_ they got it. The fact that they accepted -it--that's what's important." McIntosh glanced up at Drummond. "They -probably found this in the wreck of the ship they'd been in. It's easy -to see they haven't used it in hundreds of generations. Instead, the -gist of what's in it was passed down orally. And their basic concepts -of Man and supervisor were distorted all along the way--confused with -the idea of God." - - * * * * * - -Gently, he let the cover fall. And a shining square of duraloid fell -out. - -"It's somebody's picture!" Drummond exclaimed. - -"An ID card," Angus said, holding it so the light wouldn't reflect off -its transparent protective cover. - -It was a picture of a nondescript man--not as stout as Drummond, nor as -lean as McIntosh--with hair neither all black, like the younger man's, -nor nearly all white, like Angus's. - -The print below the picture was indiscernible, except for the subject's -last name.... - -"Jackson!" Drummond whispered. - -Angus slowly replaced the card. "A hundred years of false devotion," he -said pensively. "Just think--" - -"This is no time for that kind of gas." Drummond glanced at his watch. -"We got just two hours to cut off those converters." Desperately, he -faced the robots. "Hey, you clunkers! You're robot assemblers. You got -four hundred clunkers in that cave, all in pieces. Get in there and put -'em together!" - -Angus shook his head disapprovingly. Somehow it didn't seem right, -calling them clunkers. - -"Jackson is my Supervisor!" intoned RA-204. - -"Jackson is my Supervisor!" echoed the mass. - -Drummond glanced frantically at his watch, then looked helplessly at -Angus. Angus shrugged. - -The younger man's face suddenly tensed with resolution. "So they've got -to have a Jackson? All right, I'll give 'em one!" - -He waved his fist at the horde. "I'm your Supervisor! I'm your Jackson! -Now clear out of the way and--" - -RA-76's hand darted out and seized Drummond's ankle, tugged him off the -ledge. As he fell to the ground, a score of robots closed in over him, -metal arms flailing down methodically. Angus yelled at them to stop, -saw he was too late and sank down, turning away sickly. - -Finally, after a long while, they backed off and faced Angus. - -"We have passed the Divine test, O Jackson!" 204 shouted up jubilantly. - -"We have redeemed ourselves before our Supervisor!" exclaimed 76. - -It took a long, horror-filled moment before Angus could speak. - -"How do you know?" he managed to ask at last. - -"If he had been Jackson," exclaimed 204, "we could not have destroyed -him." - - * * * * * - -The robots fell prostrate again and returned to their devotional. But -now the phrases were triumphant, where before they had been servile and -uncertain. - -Angus stared numbly down at Drummond, then backed against the cliff. -The litany below, exuberant now, grew mightily in volume, booming -vibrantly against distant hills. - -"There is but one Supervisor!" intoned 204. - -"But one Jackson!" answered the assembly. - -"And now He dwelleth among His children!" 76 chanted. - -"In their midst!" boomed the hundreds. - -Suddenly it all seemed horribly ludicrous and Angus laughed. The -litany, stopped and his laughter grew shriller, louder, edged with -hysteria. - -The shimmering sea of metal, confounded, stared at him and it was as -though he could see fleshy furrows of confusion on the featureless -faces.... But how could a clunker show emotion? - -His laughter slowed and died, like the passing of a violent storm. And -he felt weakened with a sickening sense of compassion. Robots--_human_ -robots--standing awed before unknown concepts while they groped -for Truth. Clunkers with a sense of right and wrong and with an -overwhelming love. It was absurd that he had been elected father of -twelve hundred children--whether flesh or metal--but it didn't _feel_ -at all absurd. - -"Dost Thou despair of us, O Jackson?" asked 76 hesitantly, staring up -at him. - -204 motioned toward the ship, the top of its hull shining beyond the -nearby woods. "Wouldst Thou _still_ return to Thy vessel, Supervisor?" - -Incredulous, Angus tensed. "You mean I can go?" - -"If that is Thy wish, True Jackson, you may go," said 76 submissively. - -As he watched unbelievingly, a corridor opened in their ranks, -extending toward the woods and the ship beyond. He glanced anxiously at -his watch. There was still more than an hour left. - -Wearily, he dropped from the ledge and trudged toward freedom, trying -to look straight ahead. His eyes, nevertheless, wandered to the -dejected figures who faced him with their heads bowed. - -Then he laughed again, realizing the illogical nature of his solicitous -thoughts. Imagine--_dejected_ clunkers! Still, the metal faces seemed -somehow different. Where, a moment earlier, he had fancied expressions -of jubilation, now there was the sense of hopelessness on the steel -plates. - - * * * * * - -Shrugging off his uncertainty, he walked faster. After all, was it -_his_ fault they'd stumbled upon a substitute for birth and death -and had become something more than clunkers? What was he supposed to -do--stay and play missionary, bring them the Truth so that when a -deactivation crew came along, they would be so advanced morally that no -one would suggest their destruction? - -He stopped and scanned the ranks on either side. He'd do one thing -for them, at least--he wouldn't report the wreck. Then it would be -centuries, probably, before another ship wandered far enough away from -the trade routes to intercept the distress signals. - -Relieved by his decision, he went ahead more at ease. - -And the litany started again--softly, appealing: - -"Jackson is my Supervisor." - -"I shall not rust...." - -Angus stiffened abruptly and stared at his watch, realizing belatedly -that it had stopped. But how long ago? How much time did he have left? -Should he take the chance and make a dash for the converters? - -He reached the end of the robot corridor and started to sprint for the -ship. - -But he halted and turned to glance back at the humble, patient horde. -They were expectantly silent now--as though they could sense his -indecision. He backed away from them. - -Then the light of a hundred Arcturan days flared briefly and a mighty -mountain of sound and concussion collapsed on him. The trees buckled -and branches were hurled out against the cliff. It rained leaves and -pieces of metal from the hull for a long while as Angus hugged the -ground. - -When he finally looked up, familiar bits of the ship were strewn -around him--a spacesuit helmet here, a control dial there, a -transmitter tube up ahead. - -He rose shakily, staring at a black book that lay near the helmet with -its pages ruffled. He picked it up and straightened out the leaves. -Then he motioned to the robots and they clustered around him. - -He would have to start from the beginning. - -He wet his lips. - -"In the beginning," Angus read in a loud, convincing voice, "_God_ -created heaven and earth and the earth was void and empty and darkness -was upon the face of the deep. And _God_ said, 'Let there be light'...." - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's All Jackson's Children, by Daniel F. 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