“They’re creeps,” Larch moaned.

  Slezak hissed, “Be quiet, you idiot!” And to Gardner, “I apologize, your Honor—and also for my friend. He is disturbed. The killer robot frightens him.”

  “Mr. Bennett, read the indictment.”

  “The prisoners,” Bennett said in a loud voice, “conspired to break the laws of Zark by attempting the theft of precious stones and sacred artifacts from the city. That they did not succeed is proof that the gods of Zark still watch over their chosen people, and in proof of their devotion did cause the prisoners to be returned to Zark for trial and punishment.”

  “This is a farce,” Larch muttered.

  Slezak whispered fiercely, “Will you shut up? We’re in bad enough trouble without you making it worse.”

  “This trial,” Gardner said, “should not extend over any great length of time. The crime is simple and uncomplicated. I will ask you a series of direct questions, to which you will give direct answers. When the interrogation is finished, we will look to the expediency of a defense.”

  “Yes, your Honor,” Slezak said meekly.

  “Is it true that through vague knowledge as to great treasure waiting in Zark, you guided Professor Frank Dixon to the city?”

  “We guided him—yes—but—”

  “Was not your purpose only to thus gain entry to the city yourself in order to steal from the people of Zark?”

  “It wasn’t quite—”

  Gardner went on, “Is it true that after you arrived here, you accomplished the theft, and when your escape plans went awry you buried the treasure and stole a robot from Professor Dixon with which to cross the desert?”

  “It worked out like that, but—”

  “And is it true that you returned with one Dudley Farthington Ravencraft only in order to retrieve the rewards of your thievery?”

  Even Slezak was losing his dignity. He flapped a hand helplessly. “Your Honor, the Ravencrafts had nothing to do with it.”

  “The facts are self-evident. There is not need to waste more time. The jury has heard the evidence.”

  “I beg your pardon, but where is the jury?”

  “You see them all around you. The citizens of Zark.”

  “But they couldn’t understand a word that was said.”

  “What has been said here will be translated in due time, and they would probably demand a harsher death than the one this court now condemns you to—even though they are a peaceful and inherently friendly people. I, however, am their protector—the custodian of their coming greatness. My decisions are their decisions.”

  There seemed to me to be some mislogic in what he’d said. If the Shadow People couldn’t understand the words of the trial, how could Gardner call them a jury? And of what use was a jury if the judge made the decisions?

  But Gardner seemed sincere enough, as though he himself believed what he’d said and saw nothing illogical in it. He was a very interesting human. I watched him and listened to him and was a little confused. During the trial he had not spoken harshly to Larch or Slezak. His words had been gentle in tone, but still firm. And there was a sadness about him, as though he didn’t like what he was doing but had to do it anyhow.

  I couldn’t explain it to myself, but I was unable to think of him as being a bad man, even though he had condemned Larch and Slezak to death. I knew it would be difficult to fit Professor Gardner into any of the patterns of other humans I’d seen.

  He said, “Take the prisoners away. You, Mr. Bennett and Mr. Wilson, will return them to their place of confinement. I will set a date for their execution in due time. After you have disposed of them, meet me in my quarters.”

  Then Gardner told me to pick up the books, and silence fell as we marched out.

  We went back to Gardner’s room, and he stretched out on his bed and put an arm over his eyes, as though the job of condemning Larch and Slezak had sapped his strength.

  He lay there for a while and then said, “Barney, you were Professor Dixon’s robot, weren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you’re my robot now. Do you understand that?”

  I said, “Yes,” again, but I didn’t mean it the way he thought I did. Without a true owner to be loyal to, I could use some judgment and not obey blindly. I would remain Professor Dixon’s robot until reprogrammed and delivered to a new owner. Gardner should have known that.

  He didn’t say any more because Bennett and Wilson arrived at that moment, and Wilson, the older man, growled, “The less I have to do with that killer robot, the better I like it.”

  “You left it to guard the prisoners?”

  Bennett said, “Sure, but they couldn’t get out of that hole anyhow.”

  “We have Barney for the carrying now, so you can leave the killer there until we need it.”

  Wilson was nervous. He continued to scowl. “Things are getting to the touchy stage. I keep waiting for the whole deal to blow up in our faces.”

  “You should have more faith in your own destiny,” Gardner said. “Is everything ready for quick transfer when the ship arrives?”

  “There are twelve baskets of jewels to be moved,” Bennett said. “But I think you’re paying too much for what you’re getting.”

  “What I’m getting is of vital importance. No price is too high.”

  “But how do you know those Venusians will play ball? They’re treacherous.”

  “We’ve got the killer robot. They’ll keep their bargain.”

  “Maybe we ought to switch back to the cutter ray,” Wilson said.

  “No. They have a greater fear of the acid. More spectacular. We want to impress them, not destroy them.”

  Gardner was right about that. The acid used in a killer robot’s spray gun is the most corroding chemical known. It destroys everything its heavy fumes touch except glass, so the gun and the acid tank are lined with glass, and the only danger is the killer robot getting acid on itself. The Venusians would be more frightened of the acid gun because of what it does to living flesh.

  Gardner looked at his two aides with contempt. “You have no courage.”

  “Maybe not,” Wilson said, “but how do you know you can build an army out of shadows? These people won’t fight.”

  “You are mistaken. They only need leadership—someone to stir their imaginations. A few short months and I’ll show you a fighting force that will bring these people back to their rightful heritage—when they have regained faith in themselves, they will be well able to defend their planet from greedy exploitation.”

  Bennett said, “What about the Ravencrafts? What are you going to do with them?”

  Gardner’s eyes showed what I think is pain in humans; as though his components “hurt.”

  “I haven’t decided. I will make the decision now. Please leave.”

  Bennett and Wilson obeyed, but nobody paid any attention to me, so I stood where I was. When Gardner was alone, he took one of the books from the table and began to read it. His expression was set, his face very serious. The title of the book was Lawrence of Arabia, which meant nothing to me at first. But then a vague bit of data came out of my memory bank, and I remembered seeing the book before. It was about a man who went to Arabia and did something for the people, but that was all I knew.

  Gardner read the book for a while, raising his head at times, and I saw a faraway look in his eyes. Then he took a small tape recorder from a drawer, turned it on, and began to talk.

  He said, “It is natural that a man should desire the good opinion of posterity. This may or may not be my reward. But because of the magnitude of the task I have set for myself, it is important that what I will do here and why I do it be understood in history.

  “What I do here will change history’s course. Had I not come, this planet would have been exploited and looted. Mars is highly vulnerable to such treatment for a very simple reason. It is the only inhabited planet in the System that does not possess a strong native population to protect it. Thus it is open to plunder by other peoples of the System.

  “This intention will of course be denied by the hypocritical, who mask their aims in pious terms. They will cite the Space Authority’s Orderly Exploration and Development Law, calling it an enlightened statute when it is nothing more than an agreement among the strong for orderly looting.”

  Professor Gardner stopped and turned to me. “Barney, I left a small red book in the courtroom. Do you know where that is?”

  “No.”

  “Where Larch and Slezak were tried.”

  “Yes.”

  “Get it and bring it to me.”

  I went to the courtroom and got the book. When I came back, he was dictating again, “. . . so it will take time to learn exactly how this planet was reduced to its present arid condition. It is obvious that a highly advanced civilization flourished here and that the damage was done by otherwise intelligent people who thought the resources of the planet were inexhaustible. The process of turning rich, vital soil into arid desert is not unknown. The intelligent beings of Mars had to know what they were doing. But corrective measures were not taken.

  “So the last remnants of a once-proud people were forced underground, beneath the cities, where there is still enough moisture and fertility to produce the pale tendrils of vegetation upon which they live.

  “But it is not too late to redeem these people. I have come to know and to love them, and it is my destiny to bring back their great heritage. The process of redemption will be grim and difficult. Serving notice on the System that this planet is not open to exploitation will need stern measures—”

  He stopped abruptly, as Wilson and Bennett entered. Bennett said, “Are you using the robot? We’d like to put it to work.”

  Gardner seemed annoyed at the interruption. Then he nodded. Bennett turned to where I was standing, and Gardner said, “I’ve made my decision. All the criminals must die.”

  “All the criminals,” Wilson said. “Do you mean the Ravencrafts too?”

  “Yes. They own the ship that brought that pair of scoundrels to Zark. They are obviously accomplices.”

  “But an old man—two children—”

  “Are you trying to tell me they didn’t know where their ship was going?”

  “That’s their story.”

  “You seem to forget that the old man wanted money to finance some harebrained scheme of interplanetary theatricals.”

  “No—I haven’t forgotten that.”

  “Then isn’t it obvious to you that he expected to participate in the reward of Slezak’s thievery—that that was the deal?”

  “It is a possibility, but—”

  “I see it as a certainty.”

  I wished that they would ask me about what had really happened. But they didn’t. Nor did Wilson and Bennett seem inclined to argue further. They didn’t want to see the Ravencrafts die, but they were not going to put up any fight for their lives.

  Wilson said, “Come with me, Barney,” and they both left the room.

  I followed them. As we walked down the corridor, Wilson said, “You don’t actually think he’ll do it, do you?”

  Bennett replied. “I’m not sure. He’s mad—you know that.”

  “Something’s happened to him—that’s for sure.”

  “He was always a weird character—even back at the museum. Evidently he was just waiting to be triggered into this superman complex.”

  “I don’t know why it happened,” Wilson said. “I just know how things are. And I’m going to be on that ship when it leaves.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”

  “Why would I do that? Just because I don’t want to see the Ravencrafts killed—or Larch and Slezak, for that matter?”

  “I don’t think he’ll execute any of them. But the important thing is our deal with the Venusian captain. You’re sure he’ll take us on?”

  “He agreed to it, didn’t he?”

  “But that was six months ago—when he came here to make the arms deal.”

  “He’ll stick to it,” Wilson said grimly. “And we aren’t exactly charity cases. He’s being well paid.”

  “But what’s to keep him from taking our share too when we get out in space?”

  “Our hand guns, for one thing. If we have to, we’ll take turns standing watch. Those Venusians aren’t the most courageous people in the System.”

  So Bennett and Wilson had plans of their own. Saying that Gardner would not execute the Ravencrafts was a comfortable decision for them to make. It relieved them of the responsibility of doing anything about it and eased what humans call their consciences.

  Being a robot, I didn’t have a conscience, so it was not necessary for me to relieve it by thinking the Ravencrafts would be safe. I was still pretty sure Gardner meant to kill them.

  Bennett changed the subject now. He said, “Did Gardner tell you what he plans to do about the mine field?”

  “Seal off the shaft when the ship brings the explosives. That way, he’ll be no danger to the undercity and they’ll die when the oxygen is gone.”

  Bennett shrugged his shoulders. “Well, it isn’t our responsibility. We’ll be long gone.”

  I wondered what they were talking about: what mine field and who they were. I didn’t get any more data, though, because we came to an intersection and Bennett turned into it, saying, “Come with me, Barney.”

  Wilson went on about some other business, and Bennett led me to a room filled with baskets of jewels, the kind Earth women wear as decorations. They were of many sizes and colors, and some were mounted in metal. All that treasure showed the Zarkians as being very wealthy by Earth standards; and from the way it looked, Gardner was doing more looting than anybody else. But I guess he didn’t see it that way.

  “Barney,” Bennett said, “take these baskets to the same place you took the silver bars.”

  I said, “Yes.”

  “When you’re through, go back to Gardner’s room.”

  He left and I started to work.

  The Shadow Girl did not return, so I thought about the things I’d heard the Earth men talk about—the mine field and what Gardner was going to do about it. There weren’t enough data to work with, though.

  I finished the work and went back to Gardner’s room, hoping to hear some more.

  But he turned me off as soon as I got there… .

  9.

  The Mine Field

  When Gardner snapped me on again, my timer told me it was morning. Gardner’s eyes were red, and he looked very tired. The books were still on the table and the tapes were strewn around. It looked as though he’d been up all night studying the Zarkian language.

  He said, “Barney, come with me. I’ve got a job for you.”

  He took me to a room down the corridor that was larger than the one he lived in. It had a higher ceiling and smoother walls, but it was full of rocks and slabs that must have been left there when the corridor was hollowed out.

  “I want this room cleared. I need larger quarters. Put the debris in the next room down the corridor for the time being.” He turned away then, but went on talking—more to himself, I thought, than to me. “Eventually we will clear this whole section. It will be our temporary seat of government until we can achieve better communication with our people. There is a vast job of education to be done here—much work before my people can learn to govern themselves and repossess their heritage.”

  He stopped talking, and I’d picked up a rock slab when I looked again and saw him staring at me. He was very tense, and his eyes were not focused. They looked through me rather than at me and there was a kind of pleading look on his face.

  “In the meantime, I must be cruel. There is so little time. So much lost ground to be regained quickly. The blueprints for invasion and colonization—for the looting of my people—have already been drawn up on Earth and in New Mars. You must understand that. Scientific expeditions are only a guise, a hypocrisy. They will be followed by the looters and the adventurers. Something must be done to show the invaders that the Zarkians and the other peoples of Old Mars will resist and defend what is their own.”

  By being cruel he of course meant killing Professor Dixon and the Ravencrafts along with Larch and Slezak. So far as understanding him—maybe I’d begun to, a little bit, at least. But agreeing that he was doing the right thing—that was another matter.

  He hadn’t asked me any questions, so I didn’t have to answer him. But then he realized what he was doing—talking to a robot as though it were a human, and he turned away quickly.

  “Of course, you can’t understand,” he said, and strode off.

  I’d worked for about ten minutes after that when I heard a chirping and the Shadow Girl peeked in. She twittered what was probably a hello.

  I went on with my work, wishing I could understand her language. As I went back and forth with the rocks, she chirped and twittered with more intensity than before. She wasn’t afraid of me now and came quite close. She kept repeating the same chirp over and over again, making motions along the corridor as she followed me. I knew she was trying to communicate.

  Then, with great effort, she made the chirping sound different. I listened hard, not daring to believe what I heard—or what I thought I heard. Then I was sure. The chirpings came out: “Dix-Dix-Dix.”

  The chirps came very fast, in a sort of frustration, as though she thought I was stupid for not understanding.

  I dropped the rock I was carrying. “Dixon?”

  The Shadow Girl fluttered up and down and waved her arms in delight.

  “Dix-Dix-Dix-Dix!”

  I asked, “Where is Professor Dixon?”

  She pointed and fluttered down the corridor like an excited bird, motioning me to follow. I wasn’t cautious about it, not caring if the Earth men saw me or not. But we moved into a deserted part of the undercity, and finally the Shadow Girl pushed her way under a low break in the wall, where I just managed to follow her, and stopped at the mouth of a corridor on the other side.

  She stood there chirping very shrilly while I waited.