Part 16 (1/2)

Annie scowled defensively. ”You thought we were going to let you starve'”

James lifted one broad shoulder in a shrug. His expression was wary. ”I got the impression you were not

particularly interested in my welfare.”

”Look,” Annie snapped, nettled, ”I may not like you very much right now, but that doesn't mean I want to see you starve to death.” The corner of his mouth turned up in an ironic smile. ”Surely you don't believe I can die, Annie' Dying is something that humans do. Machines are merely deactivated.”

She heard the harsh bitterness in his voice and knew he was talking about his ”people,” the androids'no,

humanoids--who had been destroyed. ”Is that what they said when you rebelled'” she asked. ”That they were deactivating you'” Stiffly, he nodded. ”They claimed we had malfunctioned and needed to be turned off in the most expedient manner.” He met her eyes with a grim expression. ”They claimed it was not a purge, merely a necessary eradication of machines that had somehow gone berserk.” Annie sought for some response to make. Absolutely nothing came to mind. A few hours earlier she had called him a machine, implying that she supported his society's decision to turn him off. She still didn't know if his society had been wrong. Quite likely they had been correct. The fact was, she simply didn't have enough information to judge.

”How many people did you kill'” she asked abruptly. His eyes flashed like sunlight glancing off a glacier. ”Too many,” he said, his voice bleak. A shudder ran through her. She was sorry that she had asked, but now that the subject had been brought up, her curiosity compelled her to try to learn more. ”Why'” she asked. ”Why did you have to kill them'” The ice in his eyes did not thaw. ”They were destroying us,” he said softly. ”Ruthlessly, without the slightest hint of remorse or compa.s.sion. We had two choices--either to be destroyed or to defend ourselves.” He sighed. ”In the end, our resistance achieved nothing.” She heard the sorrow in his voice.

”How many'”

James lifted his eyebrows at her insistence. ”You mean how many humans did I personally kill'” He shrugged. ”Since I started the entire revolution, it could easily be argued that I was responsible for every human death. Over four hundred humans died.”

A chill ran down her spine. ”What about Dekka's brother' Did you really kill him with your bare hands'”

James's features went rigid. ”He killed my oldest friend,” he said. She could hear the anguish beneath his customary quiet tone. ”He was responsible for what was euphemistically referred to as deactivating the humanoids in our area. Like Dekka, he did not believe we should experience an easy death, but that we should first be punished.” He paused for a long moment, then continued. ”He had Charles and twenty-four other humanoids confined at the Kenyo facility, one of the labs where we were manufactured. And he was systematically destroying them with the whip.”

”You said the whip was used for inflicting pain.”

”A better description for it might be torture. Humanoids are like humans in at least one significant way. Enough pain can kill us. Constant, unremitting agony destroys the brain's ability to function. It is a most unpleasant way to die.” He lowered his lashes, but not before she had glimpsed what looked very much like grief in his gaze.

”I don't understand,” Annie objected. ”You said they were supposed to turn off the robots in the 'most expedient manner.' Using the whip sounds like a whole lot of trouble to go to. Why didn't he just turn you off' Or shoot you'”

”I believe we represented his greatest failure,” James said. ”He was a designer, and our failure to accept our role as slaves infuriated him. He saw us as a personal and professional embarra.s.sment, and he took out his anger on us.”

Dekka's brother must have used the whip as an outlet for his frustration. Sort of like kicking a car's tire when its engine broke down, Annie surmised. Except a car didn't fall to the floor and whimper in pain when you hit it.

”A number of us broke into the facility to liberate the other humanoids,” James went on. ”We got three out.” He paused, and his expression grew bleak. ”Dekka's brother was torturing Charles. I could hear him screaming. But by the time I managed to get inside the room, he had the whip turned up to full intensity. I broke his neck, but it was too late for Charles.”

Annie stared at him, wide-eyed. He had killed at least one human barehanded. He had been indirectly responsible for the deaths of over four hundred humans. Regardless of the fact that his intent had been to defend his friend, how could she simply overlook the fact that he was a killer'

James met her gaze. ”You look as if you think I am a monster,” he commented.

She sensed the vulnerability beneath the apparent coolness of the remark, but she couldn't rea.s.sure him that she didn't see him as some sort of berserk killer robot, because right now she did. ”You were responsible for the deaths of over four hundred humans'” she whispered. ”Four hundred and twenty-two.” A knot of appalled horror lodged in her stomach, making her want to throw up. No matter what the humans of his time had done, they hadn't deserved to die in such numbers. Had they' ”How many of your people died'” she whispered at last. Something flickered in his gaze. ”I already told you. All of them, except myself.” ”Yes, but how many'” If anything, his eyes grew even colder. He spoke in a harsh whisper. ”Over fifty million.”

Chapter 12.

Dinner was eaten in silence. Kay was too busy balancing her own meal with Clark's to engage in idle chat. James appeared lost in a contemplative silence, although he was not too contemplative to eat a rather large helping of stew. Annie was still too stunned to speak at all.

Fifty million. Over fifty million ent.i.ties like James.

Destroyed. Killed. No, not killed. Just as James had said, machines couldn't be killed, merely deactivated.

Evidently the humans of James' society had not thought of the humanoids as people. They had been convinced that they were merely machines that weren't functioning correctly. Perfectly sensible, on the face of it. It was, she thought, similar to sending a car to the junkyard when it didn't run any more. Simple, easy and straightforward. No moral dilemma involved.

No doubt the humans had really believed their machines were not people.

Something James had said came back to haunt her: He did not believe we should experience an easy death, but that we should first be punished for our crimes. A machine couldn't commit crimes. And how had Dekka herself put it' She had stared at him with cold hatred in her eyes and snarled, Murderer. He deserves to suffer before he dies. A machine couldn't be a murderer.

She stabbed her spoon into the stew with more force than necessary. Dekka might have convinced herself that James and his fellows were no more than malfunctioning machines, but she didn't really believe it. She despised him with the savage hatred that humans reserved for other humans.

And so must have the rest of the humans of that time. Otherwise they certainly wouldn't have bothered torturing humanoids to death. Who the h.e.l.l would try to torture a car' Besides, a machine that malfunctioned couldn't be held accountable for its errors. Only its designer could be considered responsible.

James had been held accountable for his actions as if he were a person.

He was a person. And the people of the future had known that, whether or not they wanted to admit it.

She looked up and saw him looking at her with a cold light in his eyes, and she dropped her gaze hastily.

Unfortunately, she thought unhappily, he was a person who thought she was beneath contempt.

After dinner, James spoke for the first time. ”We need to leave this place,” he said without preamble.

Kay shot him a look of distaste. ”h.e.l.l, no.”

James tilted his head to the side, an expression of puzzled surprise on his face. ”What do you mean'”

”Just what I said. h.e.l.l, no. We're not going anywhere. This is my home, d.a.m.n it.”

”The Bureau knows we are here,” James said with quiet reasonableness.

”The Bureau is after you. Why don't you get out of here so the rest of us can live in peace'”