“All right,” he said to himself. “I used to hide as a kid. This is basically the same thing. This ought to be easier than that, since I don’t think anybody is really searching for me.” He thought of the medical team, but decided that if they were looking for him, they were a long way off.
He had been hoping that the unusual architecture of some of the buildings might offer a small space where he could hide. Standing and lying flat were both equally unnecessary; he could actually squat down or double up in any fashion, without the usual danger of his limbs going to sleep, or needing to move to get more comfortable while he was sleeping.
The architecture did not help him, however. The more distinctive designs involved geometric shapes that had no small spaces in which he could crouch, and the simpler buildings were usually made up of modular rectangles of various proportions.
The other way to hide was in plain sight. He would have to look occupied, even while he was motionless in sleep. The tunnel system would provide that chance.
He went down into the first tunnel stop he found. The worst result he could think of was that he might not be able to stop at the same place he got on, but since he didn’t know his way around the city anyway, that hardly mattered. He would be equally lost anywhere.
He stepped into a platform booth and looked in mystification at the controls. The best he could do was mark this particular stop. When he woke up, he could try to make it bring him back here. If that didn’t work, he would stop anywhere he could.
Once the booth was on its way, he stood erect in a position that seemed casual enough and relaxed. At first, the noise of air rushing past the booth kept him awake, but then he remembered that he could control his hearing now, as well. He lowered his aural sensitivity, though he did not shut it off, and as he became fully relaxed, he felt himself to be the construct of two distinct parts. Earlier, he had felt integrated as a cyborg. Now he really felt himself to be a human brain housed in a motionless, manufactured unit that was just minimally active in order to keep his brain alive. It was a protective shell, apart from his own personal being in a way that his biological body never had been. In a few moments he was asleep, still standing up in the platform booth as it rushed through the tunnel system of Robot City.
Jeff woke up in nearly total disorientation. Ahead of him, a robot was standing in a transparent booth, speeding along a track down a mysterious tunnel. He looked around in alarm, and then suddenly his new life came back to him. Yes, his arms were still blue and robotic. He was still in this strange, manufactured body.
He was still all alone.
His ploy had worked, at least; none of the robots had bothered him while he slept.
He sensed vaguely that he had been dreaming, but he had no memory of the details. Nor did he think they had been pleasant.
He did figure out how to get the booth to carry him back to the same tunnel stop where he had entered. That accomplished, he rode up the ramp to daylight and looked around. He was satisfied that his one basic need, a place to sleep, had been arranged. Clothing was not necessary, and he knew that his robot body had an energy pack that was independent of ordinary food. He wasn’t sure how it was able to keep his brain alive, but since it was working, he wasn’t going to worry about it, either.
“Well, Jeffrey,” he said aloud to himself. “It’s time to start this new life of yours in earnest. Let’s go see what we can see.”
He stepped onto the slow lane of the nearest slidewalk and rode, gazing up at all the majestic, sweeping shapes of the city’s most striking structures. The city was busier now than it had been the night before; he decided that perhaps the robots had scheduled indoor work for the night hours. His night vision had been very good, but it could not make up for a lack of sunlight.
He rode the slidewalk for a long time. Patience was not a problem, as the city both fascinated and worried him. Without a pressing schedule, or any physical needs to satisfy, he had nothing else to do. Every so often, he stepped off carefully onto an intersecting slidewalk and kept going. He still couldn’t tell his way around, but, little by little, he began to recognize certain landmarks.
Even now, he looked about carefully everywhere. The medical team probably still wanted him, and any robot that suspected he was not susceptible to the Laws would be horrified by the idea. They wouldn’t get him, though-not if he was careful.
Then, as the slidewalk carried him underneath some sort of transparent chute, a breeze came wafting to him from a new direction.
Jeff instinctively turned his head and inhaled-and became aware, for the first time, that he normally did not breathe in the usual human manner. Obviously, his brain needed oxygen, but the rest of his body did not require it. As he had with other questions about his new physiology, he dropped the question of how his body was taking in oxygen and supplying it to his brain; the fact of his continued existence proved that some process was working. He guessed that he could inhale largely for the purpose he was using now: to use a sense of smell.
“Magellanic frettage,” he said quietly to himself, recognizing the aroma. He didn’t want to be overheard, but the impulse to talk out loud was getting stronger. “Frettage in a kind of tangy sauce, I’d say. It smells great-I haven’t had any of that in a long time. Let’s go see.”
He stepped off the slidewalk, caught his balance, and started walking in the direction of the scent. His body didn’t need food, apparently, but the desire to taste enjoyable dishes was still with him. A number of his favorite dishes came to him: Magellanic frettage, Kobe steak, jiauzi, fresh strawberries. He wasn’t sure if he could eat even if he wanted to, though he supposed not. Still, he could certainly enjoy smelling the stuff.
He was also hoping to find human companionship. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up, Jeffrey ol’ boy. You can’t trust ‘em with the truth, anyhow.”
Traffic was moderately heavy here, but most of it was just function robots, which were no threat to him as they went about their business, unobservant and incurious. A few humanoid robots appeared from time to time, but none showed any interest in him. One robot, however, seemed to stay near Jeff, turning the same corners and walking in the same direction.
Jeff dropped back gradually, keeping a suspicious eye on this one robot. He did not appear to have noticed Jeff, but he had another odd quality. This robot was pushing a small, two wheeled cart in front of him.
The cart, which had four solid gray sides but no lid, was weirdly primitive for this city of robots who could transplant a human brain, raise dynamic, glittering edifices, and guide what looked like a fully functioning society without human help. Lacking even its own power source, the cart was a throwback to ancient times.
Yet here it was.
Derec had continued to code some of Ariel’s better dishes and place them under the fan, though the constant moving from the console to the processor and back prevented him from concentrating on streamlining the recalcitrant computer. He finally decided to take a real break from the computer and follow Ariel’s lead with the chemical processor. At the very least, he might help improve the food they had to eat. Since the better codes had all been preserved, his failures wouldn’t cost them anything, and success might make their existence here much more tolerable.
The Supervisor robots had arranged for them to be given a large supply of basic nutritional requirements in chemical form. These had been augmented by a harvest of edible plants out in the reservoir area. To produce an edible dish, various ingredients were mixed with water in the processor itself, and heated, according to the codes.