“But we have so few joys left in life, so few pleasures.” The little green man said, not listening to Poloskov. “And we have never tasted pineapples before. I, for example, will now, every day, go back to yesterday so I can finish eating the pineapple which I ate yesterday…”
For a while the two of us were silent, mulling the information over in our heads. Then the Sheshinerian sighed and said:
“I can’t stand it any more. I am going into the past to finish eating your marvelous pineapple.”
“Wait up.” I stopped him. “I have a question, a business question.”
“Better you don’t ask it at all.” The little green man said. “I already know what you will ask.”
“Oh, yes…” I said.
“You will ask about an animal called the Skliss, which was the reason you came here?”
“Naturally.”
“We can get you a hundred Sklisses, but you wouldn’t want them. You will take a look at one that’s just around the corner. You will then wave your hands in frustration and you will say: ‘But that’s just an ordinary cow!’
We looked around the corner. There was a cow there.
I waved my hands in frustration and said: “But that’s just an ordinary cow!”
“Told you so.”
Then the little green man said his good byes and left more precisely, he vanished into thin air because that was what all the inhabitants of this planet did, so he did not see what happened next, and all his ability to look into the future and into the past helped him not at all, for we took that cow with us and brought it back to the Moscow Zoo, and even today it is one of our most popular exhibits.
As soon as our little green guide vanished, the cow stretched and slowly got to its feet, and unfurled long, membranous wings which until then it had wrapped around its belly. The cow sighed and looked at us with large, sad eyes, stretched out its wings and raised a cloud of dust, jumped up with clattering hooves and flew to the other side of the street.
The Skliss flew like a cow, badly and clumsily, but the Skliss really did fly!
I asked a green skinned little boy who had unexpectedly appeared right next to us.
“Whose cow is that?”
“You mean the Skliss?” The kid asked.
“Well of course, yes, whose Skliss is that?”
“It’s no ones’.” The kid said. “Who needs a Skliss? It’s totally impossible to herd them and they just fly about. Take one, no one cares.”
So we set off for the Pegasus, chasing the Skliss ahead of us with a long stick of wood. From time to time the Skliss would fly up into the air but it very quckly grew tired and returned to the ground and a lazy trot.
Along the way we picked up another Skliss who wanted to come along, but we couldn’t take it with us; feeding even one such animal would be rather difficult. The Skliss mooed for a long time in disappointment and waved its tail back and forth.
Alice returned shortly after we did. She had become bored with the Sheshinerians. They, in turn, quickly forgot all about her and vanished, some into the past, and some into the near future.
Chapter Thirteen
The Paralyzed Robots
“Well now,” Poloskov said when he had lifted from the planet where we had lost of entire stock of pineapples. “I’m for setting a direct course for the Medusa System. Any objections?”
No one objected. I would have liked to have objected, but Alice gave me such a look that I said:
“When we’re in flight the Captain is in charge. Whatever Poloskov says, that’s what will be done.”
“Then there is nothing further to delay us.” Poloskov said.
But two days later we found ourselves delayed again when we were forced to change course. The Pegasus’s on-board subspace radio had picked up an SOS.
“Where’s it from?” I asked Poloskov.
“I’ll let you know in a moment.” Our captain said. He was hunched over the receiver.
I sat down on an empty chair on the bridge, deciding to use the time to get some rest. I had been tired since morning. The Empathicator had an upset stomach, and he kept changing colors, like a traffic signal on a busy intersection.
I sat down on am empty seat on the bridge, deciding to take a minute to get some rest. I had been working since morning and I was exhausted. The Empathicator had an upset stomach, and it was changing colors like a traffic sign on a busy intersection..
The Sewing Spider had completely run out of raw materials for his work and had reached into the next cage where the Snook lay sleeping and saved off all his long fur so that I no longer recognized the Snook. As a result of his nakedness the Snook had caught a cold and was coughing up and down the hold. I had to place him in isolation.. The Blabberyap bird had spent thee night muttering in some incomprehensible language, scratching and screeching like an ungreased cart. He got the hot milk and soda treatment. The wander bushes had spent the night arguing over creamed stones and the littlest had suffered numerous broken branches. The diamond backed turtle had used the sharp facets on his shell to cut a hold in the door leading to the engine room, and I had been again forced to clamp him in the safe.
I was tired, but I knew that you always had such problems when transport a collection of rare animals. All these sicknesses, unpleasantries, fights and conflicts were nothing at all compared to the problem of feeding them.
In truth Alice had been helping me, but she had overslept and I had been forced to do the morning feed myself.
It was all very well that the animals were not too many and the majority of them could breathe terrestrial atmosphere. I had been forced to place a heater only under the enclosure with the Beelzabeetles, which was normal since they lived in volcanoes…
“It’s all clear.” I heard Poloskov’s voice.
What was he talking about. Ah, yes, I had been lost in thought and had completely forgotten we had received a disaster signal.
“The signal comes from the planet Eyeron. What could possibly have happened there?”
Poloskov opened the last volume of our copy of The Guide to the Planets and read aloud:
“Planet Eyeron. Discovered by a Fyxxian expedition. Occupied by a metallic culture of comparatively low level. It is hypothesized that the inhabitants of the planet are the decedents of robots left behind by some unknown space ship. They are straight forward and hospitable. However, very capricious and touchy. The planet is lacking in useful fossil fuels. There is no uncontaminated water. There is no breathable atmosphere. There is nothing at all on the planet. If there had been the robots would have wasted it all and now live in poverty.’
“SOS,” the subspace radio receiver blared. “We have an epidemic. Request aid.”
“We’ll have to divert.” Poloskov sighed. “We can’t ignore sapient beings in distress.”
So we changed course for the planet Eyeron.
Only when we could already see the grey, airless mountains and sea-bottoms of the planetary sphere from space was Poloskov finally able to make contact with the local dispatcher.
“What exactly is going on here?” He asked. “What sort of aid can we offer you?”
“We have an epidemic….” The voice hissed from the speaker. “We are all sick. We need a doctor.”
“A doctor?” Poloskov was surprised. “But certainly you are a metallic species. Wouldn’t it rather be a mechanic that you want?”
“Perhaps a mechanic as well.” The voice agreed from Eyeron. “But definitely a doctor.”
We set down on a flat, dusty, empty field that served as the space port. It had been a long time since a ship had set down here.
When the dust settled we lowered the gangway and rolled out the ATV. Poloskov remained on the ship, while Zeleny, Alice and I headed toward the long, low, boring building of the space port terminal. Neither spirits nor shadows surrounded us. If he had not just been talking with someone, no one would have guessed this planet held any living beings. On the road lay the discarded rusty leg of a robot. Then a wheel with torn out spokes.
Making out way through such a wasteland was somehow sad. We all wanted to shout out loud: “Is anybody here?”
The doors to the space port terminal building were wide open. Inside it was as empty and quiet as without. We left the All Terrain Vehicle and stopped at the doors, not knowing where to head for now.
There was a hissing from the enormous, grey loudspeaker that hung from the ceiling and an already familiar scratchy voice said:
“Go up the stairway to the small black door. Push on it and it will open.”
We obeyed and found a narrow stairway. The stairway was narrow and just as dusty as everything else. It ended in a small black door. I pushed on the door and it did not move. Perhaps it had been locked?
“Hit it harder!” The voice came from behind the door.
“Let me do it.” The engineer Zeleny said.
He put his shoulder to the door, pushed hard enough for him to groan, and the door burst open. Zeleny vanished into the room.
“Just as I thought.” He said gloomily after he had flown into the room and collided with one of the planet’s metallic inhabitants who was sitting at a desk.
The robot was covered with dust like everything else.
“Thank you for coming.” The robot said, raising his hand to help Zeleny get to his feet. I didn’t think anyone would ever come. I’d given up hope. And we don’t have any ships of our own out…”
“It’s your transmitting station.” I said. “It’s too weak. We picked up our message only because we were flying right by. It was pure random chance.”
“Once our station was the most powerful in the sector.” The robot said.
Then something grinding sounded from his iron jaw and he froze with his mouth open. The robot waved his hands back and forth and silently called for help. I looked at Zeleny in confusion, and he said:
“It’s not doctor that’s needed here.”
He went over to the robot and struck him below the chin with his fist. The mouth opened with a clang and the robot said:
“Than….”
Zeleny had to deal with the robot with his fist again. He shook his bruised hand and said,
“Please don’t open your mouth so wide. I’d rather not have to stand with my fist over you all the time.”
The robot nodded and continued to talk, with its mouth only slightly open.
“I sent the SOS signal.” He said. “Because for the past two weeks no one has come to relieve me. I suspect the entire population of the planet is afflicted with paralysis.”
“But why do you think that?”
“Because my own legs refuse to work.”
“Has this sickness afflicted you long?” I asked.
“No, not very.” The robot said. “In general, over the last few years, we’ve had jams even with lubricant, but in general we’ve managed to avoid them. But not long after one human had become angry with us and swore a terrible curse against us, a terrifying, mysterious paralysis began to ruin us, both the weak and the great. And I fear that I am the last more or less healthy robot on the entire planet. But the paralysis is already approaching my heart. And, as you see, even the jaw is affected.”
“All right, let me take a look. Maybe despite all your precautions you’ve forgotten to replace your oil properly.” Zeleny said with suspicion.
He went over to the robot and opened the round plate on the robot’s chest, put his hand inside, and the robot started to giggle.
“Ticklish!”
“Wait a moment.” The engineer insisted. He checked the joints in the robot’s legs and arms, straightened him out and said as he wiped his hands on a handkerchief:
“He’s been lubricated all right. I don’t understand it at all.”
“Nor do we.” The robot agreed.
We went on into the city. We stopped at one of the apartment buildings enormously long structures with long rows of single plank beds. The individual robots lay on their plants, covered with dust. Indicator lights burned on their foreheads; this meant the robots were alive. The robots could move their eyes, but nothing else. Finally, understanding nothing at all of what was going on, we returned to the space port terminal and put the robot dispatcher into the ATV. He was still at least able to talk. So we brought him to the Pegasus to analyze him there and try to determine the cause of the strange epidemic that had overwhelmed the planet.
The robot himself was able to help us with his own disassembly; he gave advice, which screw to turn, which button to press. The robot was neglected and dirty, but we were unable to find any particular damage to him. Although, in general, the service robots of this type had long ago been taken out of production in the Galaxy, they were designed to work for centuries and were capable of working in deep space, in volcanoes, underwater, or underground. They just had to be oiled from time to time, but they were perfectly capable of doing that themselves.
Finally, we laid out the parts of the robot on a large work table in the laboratory; we set his head up in one corner and tied it to the ship’s power net.
“Anything at all?” The head of the robot asked when Zeleny finished the mechanical dissection of his body.
Zeleny could only shrug his shoulders.
“Is there nothing that can be done?” The head asked quietly. “Our entire civilization will die.”
“We’ll have to send a message to Earth or to some other major planet.” I said. “They can send an expedition with specialists on robot sicknesses.”
“But how can we be sick?” The robot asked so firmly its jaw remained open. I had to go over and hit it under the chin.
“Thank you.” The robot said. “But should we remain like this our condition will be perilous. Think of yourself in our position. Not a single moving being on the entire planet. The very first rainstorm of flood will damage us irretrievably; we wouldn’t even be able to dry ourselves off.
“But listen,” I said, “There is no way we could stay with out until other help arrives!”
“Then your work must be extremely important, I take it?” The robot head asked.
Before I had a chance to answer Zeleny said:
“One last possibility. The first one. I’m going to try to change the oil. May I?”
“If it’s good quality oil, of course.” The robot head answered.
Zeleny began to clean all the moving parts of the robot and replace its lubricant with our own.
At the same time the robot asked again:
“And just what is it that you are doing?”
“We’re gathering animals for the Moscow Zoo.” I said. “Rare animals. We should even now be finishing the expedition and returning home. It is extremely difficult to carry a whole zoo with you.”
“If you can help us,” The robot said, “We would be delighted to give you our animals. There are none like them anywhere else in the universe.”
“What sort of animals?”
And then the robot told us:
Once, many years ago, an automated space ship crashed onto this planet; on board were a number of universal robots. They survived and built themselves huts from pieces of the ship. Then they found deposits of iron and other metals, they found uranium and many other useful resources, And then the robots began to build themselves children, and gradually, over the years, the robots, became very numerous.
But as intelligent as the robots were they were unable to look into the future. At that time there was water and air on the planet, grass and trees. The robots, however, had no interest whatsoever in the planet’s environment and ecosystems. They made use of their complete freedom and soon built many factories, and all the factories constructed robots, and the new robots built new factories and the new factories prepared new robots. And this continued until the day came when all the oxygen on the planet was consumed in the furnaces, all the trees were turned into warehouses for spare parts, all the native animals had died out, all the mountains were leveled to their foundations and all the seas were expended in coolant for engines. Finally the useful fossil fuels were used up. All that remained on the planet were robots, many billions of ordinary robots who suddenly had nothing at all to do.