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"That settles it, Dran. _You_ go. It will require a steadier _rrand_ to manage an underpowered ship."
"And leave you to foment civil strife and usurp unfranchised powers? No, you go!"
"I suppose we could _both_ go," sighed Drax.
"Fine! Leave the kingdom leaderless! _That_ is the kind of muddleheaded thinking which brought about our present political embarrassment."
"Masters," said Zindrome, "if _someone_ doesn't go soon the ship will be useless."
They both studied their servant, approving the rapid chain of logic forged by his simple statement.
"Very well," they smiled in unison, "_you_ go."
Zindrome bowed quite obsequiously and departed from the great Throne Hall of Glan.
"Perhaps we should authorize Zindrome to construct facsimiles of himself," stated Dran, tentatively. "If we had more subjects we could accomplish more."
"Are you forgetting our most recent agreement?" asked Drax. "A superfluity of robots tended to stimulate factionalism last time--and certain people grew ambitious..." He let his voice trail off over the years, for emphasis.
"I am not certain as to whether your last allusion contains a hidden accusation," began the other carefully. "If so, permit me to caution you concerning rashness--and to remind you who it was who engineered the Mono-Robot Protection Pact."
"Do you believe things will be different in the case of a multitude of organic subjects?" inquired the other.
"Definitely," said Dran. "There is a certain irrational element in the rationale of the organic being, making it less amenable to direct orders than a machine would be. Our robots, at least, were faithful when we ordered them to destroy each other. Irresponsible organic subjects either do it without being told, which is boorish, or refuse to do it when you order them, which is insubordination."
"True," smiled Drax, unearthing a gem he had preserved for mille
"Hmm." Dran narrowed his eyes to slits. "Let me ponder that for a moment. Like much of your thinking it seems to smack of a concealed sophistry."
"It contains none, I assure you. It is the fruit of much meditation."
"Hmm."
Dran's pondering was cut short, by the arrival of Zindrome who clutched two brownish blurs beneath his metal arms.
"Back already, Zindrome? What have you there? Slow them down so we can see them."
"They are under sedation at present, great Masters. It is the movements caused by their breathing which produce the unpleasant vibration pattern on your retinas. To subject them to more narcosis could prove deleterious."
"Nevertheless," maintained Dran, "we must appraise our new subjects carefully, which requires that we see them. Slow them down some more."
"You gave that order without-" began Drax, but was distracted by the sudden appearance of the two hairy bipeds.
"Warm-blooded?" he asked.
"Yes, Lord."
"That bespeaks a very brief life-span."
"True," offered Dran, "but that kind tends to reproduce quite rapidly."
"That observation tends to be correct," nodded Drax. "Tell me, Zindrome, do they represent the sexes necessary for reproduction?"
"Yes, Master. There are two sexes among these anthropoids, so I brought one of each."
"That was very wise. Where did you find them?"
"Several billion light years from here."
"Turn those two loose outside and go fetch us some more."
The creatures vanished. Zindrome appeared not to have moved.
"Have you the fuel necessary for another such journey?"
"Yes, my Lord. More of it has evolved recently."
"Excellent."
The robot departed.
"What sort of governmental setup should be inaugurate this time?" asked Drax.
"Set us review the arguments for the various types."
"A good idea."
In the midst of their discussion Zindrome returned and stood waiting to be recognized.
"What is it, Zindrome? Did you forget something?"
"No, great Lords. When I returned to the world from which I obtained the samples I discovered that the race had progressed to the point where it developed fission processes, engaged in an atomic war and a
"That was extremely inconsiderate--typical, however, I should say, of warm-blooded instability."
Zindrome continued to shift.
"Have you something else to report?"
"Yes, great Masters. The two specimens I released have multiplied and are now spread over the entire planet of Glan."
"We should have been advised!"
"Yes, great Lords, but I was absent and--"
"They themselves should have reported this action!"
"Masters, I am afraid they are unaware of your existence."
"How could that have happened?" asked Dran.
"We are presently buried beneath several thousand layers of alluvial rock. The geological shifts--"
"You have your orders to maintain the place and clean the grounds," glowered Dran. "Have you been frittering away your time again?"
"No, great Lords! It all occurred during my absence. I shall attend to it immediately."
"First," ordered Drax, "tell us what else our subjects have been up to, that they saw fit to conceal from us."
"Recently," observed the robot, "they have discovered how to forge and temper metals. Upon landing, I observed that they had developed many ingenious instruments of a cutting variety. Unfortunately they were using them to cut one another."
"Do you mean," roared Dran, "that there is strife in the kingdom?"
"Uh, yes, my Lord."
"I will not brook unauthorized violence among my subjects!"
"_Our_ subjects," added Drax, with a meaningful glare.
"_Our_ subjects," amended Dran. "We must take immediate action."
"Agreed."
"Agreed."
"I shall issue orders forbidding their engagement in activities leading to bloodshed."
"I presume that you mean a joint proclamation," stated Drax.
"Of course. I was not slighting you, I was simply shaken by the civil emergency. We shall draft an official proclamation. Let Zindrome fetch us writing instruments."
"Zindrome, fetch--"
"I have them here, my Lords."
"Now, let me see. How shall we phrase it...?"
"Perhaps I should clean the palace while your Excellencies--"
"No! Wait right here! This will be very brief and to the point."
"Mm. 'We hereby proclaim...'"
"Don't forget our titles."
"True. 'We, the imperial monarchs of Glan, herebeneath undersigned, do hereby...'"
A feeble pulse of gamma rays passed u
"There!" they agreed flourishing the document. "Now you can tell us what you have been trying to say, Zindrome. But make it brief, you must deliver this soon."
"It is already too late, great Lords. This race, also, progressed into civilized states, developed nuclear energy and eradicated itself while you were writing."
"Barbarous!"
"Warm-blooded irresponsibility!"
"May I go clean up now, great Masters?"
"Soon, Zindrome, soon. First, though, I move that we file the proclamation in the Archives for future use, in the event of similar occurrences."
Dran nodded.
"I agree. _We_ so order."
The robot accepted the crumbling proclamation and vanished from sight.
"You know," Drax mused, "there must be lots of radioactive material lying about now..."