The Corfu Affair - Phillifent John T. (хороший книги онлайн бесплатно .TXT) 📗

If she was looking for a reaction from him, Solo thought, she was disappointed. The Thrush quartet was silent for several seconds. Then Vassi stirred.

"I do not understand. A mind without thought is what? Blank?"

"Exactly. We spoil white paper when we write on it, but alas, we must write. Children write on slates, and then wipe them clean afterwards. If we could do this with a mind, it would remain perfect, you agree?"

"And useless," Morales grunted. "Get to your point, Madame."

"I will. I will show it to you as it came to me. I am a cosmetic surgeon. I spend long hours repairing the deficiencies in people. I know they will go and do the same foolish things again. I despair, sometimes, of humanity. But an idea comes. A question. Why do bodies grow to be imperfect? What is wrong?"

Klasser snorted. "This is obvious, Baroness. We must live as the circumstances allow, and this is not a perfect world."

"Quite so." She gave him a white-toothed smile. "So I decided to try and grow a life in perfect circumstances. Without flaw. Adam!" She lifted a finger and the impassive hercules strode forward to stand by her side. She paused for effect, then said, simply, "Here is my first success. My perfect man. I made him."

Solo stiffened as the idea spread in his mind. Cabari exhaled slowly and said, "You had a good subject for your repair work, Madame."

"Not repair," she corrected. "Do not try to evade what is obvious. I made this man. I grew him, from an original cell-section. Here, in my laboratory. My first one. It was not easy, the first time, but I have learned much since then. A perfect human and a perfectly empty mind!"

"But— Klasser was spluttering to get his words out, "—this is not to be believed! This man moves and acts in an intelligent manner. If without thought he would be a cabbage!"

"So he is, without my thought. Look!" She raised her wrist and let the glittering attachments swing for a moment in the light, then chose one with a red identification spot on it. "This is a miniature transmit-receive device. It is one of a pair. The other? Adam, bow your head!" The man lowered his head forward slowly and she put her fingers into the thick black hair, ruffling, before drawing one fingerful aside. They could all see a small round patch of bare skin less than half an inch in diameter. "It is in there. I will show you. Adam, sit down."

Solo watched in chill horror as the herculean body settled into a chair. The Countess did something to the thing on her wristband and the statuesque shape sagged and became limp and lifeless.

"Now he is without thought," she said, very softly. "Now you shall see." It was grotesque, stomach turning, to watch her lean fingers probe, and then produce from the top of that immobile head a tiny tube of glittering metal. She held it for them all to see.

"Not to bore you with technicalities," she said, "it is enough to know that this is inserted in contact with the pineal organ. From there it controls the brain from the inside. I discovered this almost by accident. I had grown my perfect form, but it was blank and without mind. How to teach it, to train it in the way I wanted? Like a child, first with words and then on to subtleties? I thought not. That way is to establish exactly the very thing I did not want, patterns and habits like ordinary people's. But if I could reach the brain from the inside—ah! ...And I did. Gentlemen, I will not bore you with all my struggles, my mistakes. Let it stand like this. Adam is now asleep, passive, unconscious—call it what you like. If I replace this command switch, so," she did it deftly and stepped away, "he is unchanged but within my power. I can reach him with this." And she took the bangle-unit in her fingers. "I have trained him to obey certain very simple instructions, enough to make him useful to me. He is, you might say, programmed. By me. Strong, swift, unquestioning and utterly faithful." She touched her switch and the impassive giant sat up and moved away to stand by the wall at her command. Vassi started a strangled comment.

"A moment!" The Countess stopped him imperiously. "No more bush beating. My offer is just this. How would you like such a servant? Think, my friends. To have one person utterly bound to you, absolutely reliable, tot faithful, unquestioning, to be trained in whatever way you choose, to obey you whatever you say. Think now!"

Solo let out a very ragged breath and his hand shook as he drained the last of the wine in his glass. The technicalities were as far beyond him as they were beyond the Thrush quartet, but the facts were undeniable. And the potentials immense. A robot. An android robot. The perfect slave.

"I cannot contradict, Baroness." Klasser was having trouble with his voice. "I must believe that you have achieved this. But I have one question. You say you grow these perfect ones, in your tanks, and that itself is hard to believe. But—I accept it. Still, do you expect us to wait for what?—twenty-five years?—for these creatures to be grown?"

"You are a man of science, Herr Doktor. It is a pleasure to know that your mind is working. But wrongly, in this case. With my techniques for artificial nurture, you see, it is possible to accelerate the process. I could grow you a servant, a slave, to your own order—within six weeks! But I can do better, much better. You have not heard the half, yet. I said that Adam was my first. I have others. Regard now!"

She moved away to another wall, touched a switch that set a concealed light glowing, and Solo leaned forward, struggling at his bonds, as he saw what was on display. In a long niche in the wall stood a row of statues, very like those he had seen in the entrance-hall, but immediately different in that they were flesh-colored. They looked real, like people sleeping. Ten of them, all female, all breathtakingly perfect, superbly beautiful, they stood—then he looked again and saw that they leaned back slightly, all of them, against black velvet supports.

"Female!" Morales said, deep in his throat, swinging his gaze to the Countess. "Why? Why not male, like that one?"

"If you insist, senor, I can grow you a man, certainly. But think. Think how precious a perfect slave will be. Completely trustworthy, reliable, utterly obedient—and so decorative! Someone to wait in patience on your every whim, to look after you. And think, also, that a woman can go where a man cannot, and is unlikely to be suspect. And you may train her just as you wish her to be. Think. In a moment you shall make your choice. If you do not wish one of these, who are guaranteed against defect, then we can come to some other arrangement perhaps. But now I wish to tell you of the most important thing of all. Come and be seated again, and listen."

When she had them seated once more she said: "You saw the unit that I plant in the brain. It matches one other, here. These units are provided for me by the United States Military scientists, although unwillingly. Perfectly matched pairs, powered by body heat, but one is stronger than the other, is in fact master. I have the masters here, in each case." She shook her bangle. "Now, you can control and order your slave by training her to respond to your voice, your words. This works, but it is clumsy. Think, if you—" and she pointed her finger at Klasser, "—for example, had a master unit in your head, contacting the pineal, you would be in full control of your slave at all times, by thought. You could see through her eyes, hear through her ears, speak through her voice, command her mind, at all times."