War with the Robots

The robots have arrived and are here to stay, deeply entrenched already in the arts of war and peace. A little anti-social and suicidal robot named proximity-fuse rides in cannon shells and can’t stand being next to anyone else. If he is, he blows up. Another robot can dip the bright lights on your car, raising them again when the other car is by, though he is a bit on the stupid side and blinks happily up and down at brightly lit signs. Robot telephone operators are better, cheaper and faster than human ones, though harder to argue with. Robot parking lots have arrived that will whisk your automobile away upon presentation of a coin, and bring it back (hopefully) when you present the right identification. In the home, robot controlled stoves are so commonplace that we take them for granted.

Robots are here to stay all right — but what impact are they going to have on our human society? Will they wreak death and destruction like Victor Frankenstein’s creation? Or will they take over the world like their progenitors in R.U.R.? Will they be willing serfs or metal masters? Or more subtly, will they assure our physical needs to such a degree that the human race will wallow in slothfulness, degenerate and perish. Anything’s possible, of course; and in these stories I talk about a few of the possibilities. Some pleasant possibilities, and some rather nasty ones, too. Take your pick…

The first creature from earth to set foot-or treads-onto the moon will be a robot. It is in the design stage now and careful plans are being made for it to stroll around, sample the geology, search for life forms, examine the surface and measure the radiation of the moon. And of course send the information home. Unlike a man, the robot will then peacefully squat down and sit unmoving for all eternity, eye lenses staring without interest at its home world in the sky above. This little exploration-robot is so attractive a design that it has already caused a schism among the ranks of the scientists as to the necessity of sending men to the moon at all. But I think there is little doubt as to the outcome of that argument. I don’t remember any ticker-tape parades for robots. Rockets will reach the moon and the planets and, though there will be many robots aboard, there will also be at least one man. It will be hard to keep him alive, warm and comfortable-but he’ll be there…

SIMULATED TRAINER

MARS WAS A DUSTY, FRIGID HELL. Bone dry and blood red. They trudged single file through the ankle-deep sand, and in a monotonous duet cursed the nameless engineer who had designed the faulty reconditioners in their pressure suits. The bug hadn’t shown during testing of the new suits. It appeared only after they had been using them steadily for a few weeks. The water- absorbers became overloaded and broke down. The Martian atmosphere stood at a frigid-60°centigrade. Inside the suits, they tried to blink the unevaporated sweat from their eyes and slowly cooked in the high humidity.

Morley shook his head viciously to dislodge an itching droplet from his nose. At the same moment, something rust-coloured and furry darted across his path. It was the first Martian life they had seen. Instead of scientific curiosity, he felt only anger. A sudden kick sent the animal flying high into the air.

The suddenness of the movement threw him off balance. He fell sideways slowly, dragging his rubberised suit along an upright rock fragment of sharp obsidian.

Tony Bannerman heard the other man’s hoarse shout in his earphones and whirled. Morley was down, thrashing on the sand with both hands pressed against the ragged tear in the suit leg. Moisture-laden air was pouring out in a steaming jet that turned instantly to scintillating ice crystals. Tony jumped over to him, trying to seal the tear with his own ineffectual gloves. Their faceplates close, he could see the look of terror on Morley’s face-as well as the blue tinge of cyanosis.

"Help me-help me!"

The words were shouted so loud they rasped the tiny helmet earphones. But there was no help. They had taken no emergency patches with them. All the patches were in the ship at least a quarter of a mile away. Before he could get there and back Morley would be dead.

Tony straightened up slowly and sighed. Just the two of them in the ship, there was no one else on Mars who could help. Morley saw the look in Tony’s eyes and stopped struggling.

"No hope at all, Tony- I’m dead?"

"Just as soon as all the oxygen is gone; thirty seconds at the most. There’s nothing I can do."