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“Can it be true?”
“Of course it can. Krug’s never made any sort of statement on what he thinks the android’s role ought to be. I’ve got no idea of his real position myself. I’ve always assumed he was sympathetic, but I might have been only projecting my own hopes. The question isn’t can it be true but is it true.”
“Do you dare ask him?”
“I don’t dare,” Thor said. “I believe that this entire story originated inside Leon Spaulding’s malicious mind, that Krug doesn’t plan to break his no-politics rule, and that if he ever did make a statement, Krug would make the statement that we all hope and pray for. But it frightens me to think that I’m wrong. I’m terrified, Lilith. An anti-equality statement from Krug would undermine every belief we have. Dump us into outer darkness. You see what I’ve been living with all day?”
“Should you rely just on what Spaulding said? Can’t you check with Senator Fearon or the Speaker? Find out what was really said?”
“Ask them for confidential details of Krug’s table talk, you mean? They’d report me to Krug right away.”
“Then what will you do?”
“Force Krug’s hand,” Watchman said. “I want you to take Manuel to a chapel.”
“How soon?”
“As soon as you can. Don’t conceal a thing from him. Let him understand everything. Work on his conscience. Then send him to his father, before Krug makes any statements to Congress.If Krug is going to make a statement.”
“I’ll do it,” Lilith said. “Yes.”
Watchman nodded. He looked down, moving his feet idly over the patterned floor. There was a ticking in his brain and a cottony fullness in his throat. He hated the maneuvers he found himself enmeshed in now, these ploys and counterploys, this staking of so much on the weak will of Manuel Krug, this assumption that Krug — Krug! — could be manipulated by simple one-to-one intrigues. All this seemed to negate true faith. It was a cynical kind of haggling with destiny, which left Watchman wondering how true his faith had ever been. Was it all a facade, then, the kneeling in chapel, the muttering of codon triplets, the immersion in Krugness, the yielding, the prayer? Just a way of filling time until the moment came to seize control of events? Watchman rejected the thought. But that left him with nothing. He wished he had never begun this. He longed to be back at the tower, jacked into the computer, buoyantly riding the data-tide. Is this what being human is like? These decisions, these doubts, these fears? Why not stay android, then? Accept the divine plan. Serve, and desire no more. Step away from these conspiracies, these knotted emotions, these webs of passion. He found himself envying the gammas, who aspired to nothing. But he could not be a gamma. Krug had given him this mind. Krug had created him to doubt and suffer. Blessed be the Will of Krug! Rising, Watchman walked slowly across the room and, to escape himself, snapped on the holovision. The image of Krug’s tower blossomed in the screen: immense, brilliant, beautiful, flashing in the January light. A hover-camera pa
“Poor Thor,” she murmured. “So tense. So worried. Do you want to make love?”
Could he refuse her? He pretended enthusiasm. He embraced her. Body slid tight against body. She opened to him, and he entered her. He was more skillful this time. But still it remained an empty thing for him, a butting of flesh, an alien ecstasy. He found no pleasure in it for himself, though there was indirect delight in seeing Lilith throb and moan and arch her back as she took pleasure from him. I am not really human enough, despite everything, he saw, and she is much too human. Yes. Yes. He moved more swiftly. Now he felt a tickle of sensation; Krug had designed His people well, and all the proper neural co
“I love you,” she said softly.
Watchman hesitated. A response was required here. His silence, expanding into the succeeding seconds, threatened to choke the universe. How could he not reply? It was inhuman to remain silent. He touched her warm flesh. He felt untuned, unstrung.
Finally he said, quickly, getting it over with, “I love you, Lilith.”