Alliance (8 page)

I fully expect the Foundation agents to
stand up and take me down. And my calculations state that they can
defeat me easily, even though I know nothing about any of their
abilities. Just the witch alone, who has more skyras energy than
everyone else in this room, can defeat me without even trying.
Still, my programming compels me to resist even in these
situations, where logic dictates that I cannot win no matter how
hard I fight.

Then the Foundation agents do something
completely unexpected: They laugh.

Every one of them laughs. Rozan slams his
fist against the table, laughing so hard he appears to have
completely lost control over his laughter, while Nacina chuckles
beside him. The powerful witch I noticed before is laughing a wild,
wicked laugh that is at odds with her appearance, while the man who
repaired me is laughing so hard he is slumped back in his chair,
seemingly unable to stop even to breathe. The others also laugh as
hard as their friends, which makes me wonder what I said that is so
funny. After all, I did not tell a joke, so what do they find so
humorous about what I just said?

I consult
Secrets of Humor
, which I
have stored on the mobile Database, for answers, but I see nothing
in the book about an audience spontaneously bursting into laughter
after you make a very serious pronouncement. Maybe I had
unintentionally told a Delanian joke? I know nothing about Delanian
humor, after all, so it is possible I may have stumbled upon some
obscure Delanian joke that I know nothing about.

Under ordinary circumstances, I would have
used this as a distraction to make my escape, but unfortunately the
door behind me is still locked by the skyras energy. All I can do,
then, is wait until these people stop laughing. Hopefully then they
will be able to explain what is so humorous about what I just said,
although they are laughing so hard that it almost seems like they
are going to laugh forever.

It takes them a few minutes, but soon all
of the Foundation agents stop laughing. Even so, a handful of them
still chuckle, as if they cannot get over the humor of my
words.

“
Expect to face
resistance … priceless,” says Rozan, who chuckles every now and
then. He nudges Nacina in the arm. “Isn't that the most hilarious
thing you've ever heard, Naci? This machine clearly doesn't know a
thing about us.”

“
Why did you all laugh?”
I say, looking around at them all, hoping someone will explain. “I
did not tell a joke. I merely stated a fact.”

“
We laughed because we
know you couldn't beat us even if you tried,” says Rozan. He
gestures at his fellow agents, many of who are wearing smirks on
their faces now. “You don't even know the power we command. Yeah,
we know all about your ability to sense and calculate the amount of
skyras in an area, but we've taken extra measures to make sure you
can't know the true level of skyras energy in this place, which is
far higher than you think.”

I do not know if Rozan is telling the
truth. Dwarves are well-known for their ability to tell convincing
lies; in fact, once a fellow officer of mine was fooled by a
dwarfish criminal on Xeeon who lied about his true identity. Rozan
may well have been lying to me here in an attempt to destroy my
morale.

On the other hand, his fellow agents are
not disagreeing with him at all. Based on their facial expressions
and body language, it appears that Rozan is telling the truth,
although it is possible that they are all in on this lie in order
to make it seem truer than it is.

I check my built-in lie detector, which
all J bots are equipped with, but unfortunately I discover that it
has been disabled. I do not recall having disabled it myself; in
fact, until now, I did not know it is even possible to do so,
because the built-in lie detector is an inherent feature in my
class of robot.

The only logical explanation is that the
mysterious man who repaired me earlier—the one sitting at the head
of that table right now, the one who ceased laughing more quickly
than the others—must have disabled it somehow. If so, then that
means that this man holds illegal knowledge of J bot engineering,
which is information only granted to certified technicians.

That the Foundation disabled my lie
detector is a sign by itself that they likely mean me harm. They do
not want me to discover the truth about them, whatever that is, and
so have disabled the best tool I have for discerning the truth.

I should attack these beings and attempt
to make my escape. I do not know for certain what their plans for
me may be, but they cannot be good, even if they do not intend on
destroying me.

But then I stop and consider my situation.
The witch by herself can destroy me in one hit, if my scanners are
reading her skyras energy levels correctly (which I cannot be
certain of, if Rozan told the truth earlier), while the rest of
these agents do not look afraid of fighting me if necessary. That I
am alone, with no connection to the Database whatsoever aside from
the mobile version downloaded into my systems, gives me even less
incentive to attack them.

There is one thing I
can
do,
however, and that is information gathering. I might possibly be
able to trick these agents into telling me more about the
Foundation, such as its aims and origins, which in turn might be
able to help me create a plan of escape from here. It is not an
ideal plan, but it is the only plan that has even the remotest
chances of succeeding at the moment, so I must take what I can
get.

That is, assuming they do not take me back
to my room. There is, after all, no reason for them to tell me
anything. And as I have no way to make them tell me anything, I may
as well allow them to take me away.

Therefore, I say, “Very well. I assume you
will be apprehending me and sending me back to my room, as I am an
escapee and that would be the most logical course of action for
dealing with an escapee such as myself.”

“
Nah,” says the
mysterious man, shaking his head. He gestured at the room. “You are
going to stay here, in this room.”

I frown, which I understand to be a facial
expression many organic beings often do to show their confusion,
and say, “Why? I am not a member of the Foundation. Would it not be
more logical to send me back to where I belong?”

“
The Head has given us
permission to tell you some things about us,” said the man,
“because, due to recent events, we are not allowed to let you leave
this place. It would not be in your best interests, to say the
least.”

“
Why?” I say. I step
backwards before remembering that the door is still closed shut.
“How do you know what my best interests are?”

“
Because we figure that
you probably don't want to be lynched by the angry mobs that
believe you killed all those Knights of Se-Dela,” says Rozan,
leaning back in his chair, his dwarfish hands folded over his
chest. “You know, those ones you worked with earlier?”

“
I did not kill those
Knights,” I say. “It was Jornan ah Kona, the infamous criminal, who
killed them. Why would you accuse me of that? Palos could tell you
that I had no hand in murdering any of those Knights.”

Mentioning Palos may not be the wisest
thing I could have said, because as soon as her name leaves my
mouth, Rozan glares at me and says, “What
Palos
says is
irrelevant. It's what the
people
think about you that
matters. And right now, public opinion isn't in your favor.”

“
Hold on,” I say,
holding up a hand. “I do not understand. Does the Delanian public
believe that I murdered those Knights? Why?”

“
We should start from
the beginning,” says the mysterious man, drawing the attention of
everyone else in the room to him. “A lot has happened since Palos
brought you here and we will tell you as much as you need to know,
and no more.”

I almost demand that they tell me
everything, but then I look at it from their point of view. The
Foundation is clearly some sort of secret organization, one that
likely has many, many secrets that even all of these agents may not
know of. It is only logical that they would withhold certain
information from me, as I am not an ally or member of their group.
And I should probably be thankful that they are giving me any
information at all, rather than completely keeping me in the dark
on it.

So I say, “All right. Tell me what you
want to tell me. I have nothing else to do at the moment, after
all, so I will listen while interrupting as little as
possible.”

“
Good to know,” says the
man. “But first, let me introduce myself. My name is Konoa. And no,
you won't be able to find that name in your mobile Database files,
no matter how hard you look or whatever search terms you use,
because I technically do not exist.”

Konoa says that with a calm voice,
although I can tell he is amused by his prediction of what I am
about to do. Because the truth is, I am going to run his name
through the mobile Database and see if I have any information on
him, but considering how all of the other Foundation agents I have
met so far are not in the Database, this does not surprise me,
either.

Still, I find his remarks cryptic, so I
ask, “I do not understand. If you don't exist, how am I speaking
with you right now?”

“
It's a figure of
speech, clicker,” says Rozan, before Konoa can answer. He gestures
at everyone sitting at the table. “
None
of us exist. Of
course, you stupid robots don't understand things like metaphors
and similes, right? I see why the Xeeonites think you're so
advanced.”

I do not debate Rozan's notion that
metaphorical speech is usually a primary weakness in us J bots. In
recent years, of course, we J bots have received upgrades to our
language recognition software to allow us to understand figures of
speech better, but we are still sometimes thrown off by them,
especially if they happen to be newly-created slang.

But I can recognize sarcasm with no
trouble, and I hear the sarcasm in Rozan's voice quite well. I also
recognize the word 'clicker,' which is a derogatory word for
robots, although I am not offended by it because I lack the ability
to feel offended by anything.

“
What it means, J997,”
says Konoa, who glares at Rozan briefly before returning his
attention to me, “is that when you join the Foundation, all traces
of your previous life are erased. Birth certificates are burned,
family ties are cut, names are changed, Database entries are
deleted … from society's point of view, we are an organization of
individuals who do not exist.”

That explains why I am unable to find
files on any of these Foundation agents in the mobile Database, but
I find the last thing he mentions alarming. “Did you say that
Database entries are deleted? How so? Only authorized J bots and J
bot technicians are allowed to alter or delete any Database
entries, and even they have to fill out lengthy reports and papers
explaining in detail why they have to before the Database gives
them permission to do what they want.”

“
That's one of those
things that we're not allowed to tell you,” says Konoa. He folds
his hands over the papers before him. “Now, why don't we change the
subject to the Foundation itself?”

“
Yes, I would like to
know more about the Foundation,” I say. I gesture at the room,
which is actually my attempt to gesture at the whole building.
“What are you aims? Your origins? How many members do you have? And
who is your leader?”

“
You asked pretty much
all of the questions we're not
supposed
to answer,” says
Rozan, rolling his eyes. “You might as well ask us to give you our
secret names, too.”

“
As Rozan said, we
cannot answer any of those questions,” says Konoa. “What we can
tell you, however, is that the Foundation is an old organization
with origins that stretch back eons. And we are ultimately a force
for righteousness, so do not fear that we are up to
evil.”

“
Conjecture,” I say.
“You have offered no proof to me that you Foundation agents have
noble intentions. Based on the way you have treated me, I suspect
you are up to no good.”

“
Yeah,” says Rozan,
leaning back in his chair and propping his boots on the table, his
smile showing his dirty teeth. “Saving your hide from Jornan and
then repairing you and recharging your energy … what horrible
people we are. I see why you clickers are considered so
intelligent; that's the kind of master logic that only Waran-Una's
personal pupils ever display. You have blown me away with your
reasoning skills, good sir.”

The sarcasm is evident in Rozan's voice.
It does not irritate me, but I do find it a waste of time, as he
does not tell me anything new about the Foundation.

“
What Rozan means is
that we have indeed treated you well,” says Konoa. He gestures at
my legs. “We repaired your leg, for example. If we had ill
intentions for you, we would have scrapped you or thrown you out
for the public to destroy. We know you are innocent of any crimes
accused of you, which is why we have brought you here.”

Konoa sounds quite sincere, far more
sincere than sarcastic Rozan, but I am still suspicious. After all,
as Konoa himself says, the Foundation does not exist in the
Database, which instantly makes them suspicious to me. It is
impossible to trust someone who I know nothing—and can know
nothing—about.

But the fact is, this is exactly what I
have been waiting for, so I say, “Okay. Please tell me more about
the Foundation. Or what you are allowed to tell me, anyway.”