Pet Peeve Part 43

Gwenny looked around. This time her gentle eye fell on the defunct robot.

Oh, no! She couldn't be thinking of helping that!

She walked to the pile of metal. The robot was dead, in its fashion: its fire was out.

Gwenny struggled to heave it up to lean against the wall, sitting. She checked its limbs and torso. They were in order. She opened its belly door and peered inside. There was a sodden half-burned chunk of wood. She took it out, then used her panty-cloth to wipe clear the interior. Then she went on a quest for dry wood.

She was doing it! Did she have a death wish?

She gathered all the dry chips she could find, and some more see-weeds. She packed them carefully in the firebox, then used a chip of firewood to ignite them. The fire caught and blazed up. She shut the door and stood back.

The robot came to life, in its fashion. It got to its feet. It checked itself. It looked around with its lenses. It saw Gwenny. It spoke, using its speaker grille. "Why?"

"You were hurting."

"I do not understand."

"You fire was out. You were dead. That's not nice."

"My fire was out. I was inactive. What is nice?"

She shook her head. "Maybe you have to be alive to understand."

"I am not alive. I do not understand."

She considered. "Why did you fight us?"

"What is fight?"

"What you were doing. Coming at us in ma.s.ses, shoving us around. Trampling us. Killing us."

"We were going to the iron. We forged through impediments."

"You mean you weren't trying to fight us?"

"We had to get to the iron. You were in the way. We tried to pa.s.s. You did not get out of the way."

She considered again. "But you were overrunning us. We had to stop you."

"All we want is iron."

"So you can make more and bigger robots."

"Yes. As long as the iron lasts."

"We can't allow that."

"I do not understand."

"You will squeeze all the rest of us out of Xanth."

"Yes."

"That's not right."

"What is right?"

She tried again. "There should be room for all creatures in Xanth, each in its place. Cooperating when that is mutually beneficial."

"Why?"

"Why do you do what you do?"

"I follow my program."

"Well, my program forbids me to hurt folk I don't need to hurt, or to let them hurt if I don't need to. That's why I helped you."

"Give me a program that enables me to understand."

She was surprised. "You would accept such a program?"

"Yes, because it seems to be a better program than mine. No other robot helped me. I would not have helped another robot. You helped me. You have a directive that would be useful for me. I want to be the best machine I can be. That's in my present program."

She considered again. "Maybe we can help each other. If you help me escape this cave, I will help you get such a program. Is it a deal?"

"What is a-"

"An agreement to help each other get what we need. To cooperate. Not to fight each other."

"I do not understand cooperation."

She considered yet again. "Can your present program accept something you don't yet understand but that may benefit you later?"

"Yes, conditionally."

"Then accept this: if we don't cooperate, we will not escape this cave. I will die and you will run out of fuel and become inactive. If we do cooperate, I will live and you will get out to get more fuel and a better program."

"I accept that. I do not know what to do."

"You'll have to trust me."

"What is trust?"

She shook her head. "You are really making me think! I think what you need is a soul program. That is, a program that emulates the conscience of a living creature. Then you would understand our case, and would understand the need to limit your pursuit of iron. Then maybe we could exist together in harmony. I mean all living creatures and all robots."

"What is trust?"

She smiled. "I suppose I didn't properly answer that. It means you accept that I mean you no harm, and that it is safe for you and your kind to do what I ask you to do. Until you get the program that will make it clear to you."

"What you offer will benefit me. I will trust you."

"Thank you."

"What is thanks?"

She laughed. "It is an expression of appreciation for a nice thing someone else has done."

"I merely made a statement of acceptance."

"This, too, is something the new program will clarify."

"What must I do?"

She went to the gourd. "I will lie down and look into this lens. You must put your hand between my eye and the peephole in one hour. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

She lay down, made herself comfortable, and put her eye to the peephole.

The dream in a dream dissipated. "And so I entered the dream realm, hoping you would think to search for me here," she said. "Now you know where I am, and can organize a rescue party. But you must also rescue the others. Including the kraken and the robot. I have a deal to honor."

"Now I understand," Goody said. "Trust me."

They laughed together.

Soon after that, Goody returned to the real world: another hour was up. "Hannah, I found her!" he said. "I know where she is."

"About time you quit goofing off, lazy loafer."

"And h.e.l.lo to you too, peeve." It was almost good to have the obnoxious bird back.

Hannah nodded. "So we can rescue her now."

He hesitated. "That's complicated."

"Too much for your simple mind?" the bird inquired.

Then he explained, and Hannah understood, and agreed. She had a soul too, and a conscience, so grasped the concepts of trust and honor.

"What a crock of spit!"

They laughed. The parody didn't get it.

When Dara and Metria checked on them, surely sent by Magician Trent, they explained. They went to the north sh.o.r.e of Mountain Lake. "Just about here," Goody said. Gwenny had been as specific as she could about the location.

"If you bring them out through the water, that robot will get fissioned again."

"Get whated again?"

"Disolved, consumed, atomized, decayed, oxidized-"

"Corroded?"

"Whatever," Metria agreed crossly. "And the kraken will hate the fresh water."

"Good point," Hannah said. "But why go through the water when we can dig them out? They can't be far below the ground surface."

"Great idea," Goody said.

"Well, I'm barbarian, not stupid," she said, flattered.

"Opinions differ, dolt."

"I'll tell them we're coming," Dara said, and puffed out.

"It won't work," the parody said sourly.

They scrounged iron limbs from the metal mountain to fashion spades and started digging. Soon they intersected the roof of the cave. It was a cast iron layer, evidently an extension of Iron Mountain. Their iron tools could not get through.

"Should have known there was a reason that cave didn't fall in long ago," Hannah muttered. "We're fairly balked."

"I told you, puddinghead!"

"You did," she agreed. "Do you have an answer?"

"Sure, b.o.o.by."

"And what might that answer be?"

"Put a hole in it, looby."

"And how do we do that?"

"Fetch a hole from the holey land, clod."

"The what land?"

"Don't start that," Metria said. "I know where it is." She vanished.

Goody was amazed. Could the arrogant bird be right?

Metria reappeared, holding something invisible. She set it carefully in the middle of the exposed metal layer.

A hole appeared. The hole she had set there. "See, dullard?"

She nodded. "I could almost get to like you, peeve, if you weren't so obnoxious."

"Fortunately I am, cretin."