Project Pope

Ten

It was still dark when Tennyson awoke. He lay for long minutes in a fuzzy, comfortable, woolly blackness, not sleeping, but still not quite awake, not entirely aware, remembering nothing of what had happened, thinking hazily that he was still in Gutshot. The room was dark, but there was a hidden light somewhere and through half-open eyes he could make out the darker shapes of objects in the room. The bed was comfortable, and a sense of delicious drowsiness filled him. He shut his eyes again, willing himself to sink deeper into sleep. But he felt that something was different, that he was not in Gutshot, nor in the ship.

The ship! He sat upright in bed, jerked out of sleep by the thought. The ship and Jill and End of Nothing.

The End of Nothing, for the love of Christ! And then everything came tumbling in upon him.

A terrible stillness lowered over him and a stiff rigidity, and he sat stricken in the bed.

Mary had found Heaven!

The light, he saw, came from a door that opened into the living area. The light flickered and wavered, brightening and fading, dancing on the walls, reaching forth and falling back. It came, he realized, from the fireplace, still burning. The fire, he told himself, should have burned to embers, drowned in gray ash, long ago.

In one dark corner of the room, a shadow moved, separating itself from the other shadows. 'Sir, are you awake? it asked.

'Yes, awake, said Tennyson, through stiff lips. 'And who the hell are you?

'I am Hubert, said the shadow. 'I have been assigned your batman. I will do for you.

'I know what a batman is, said Tennyson. 'I ran across the term some years ago in the reading of an Old Earth history. Something to do with the British military. The phrase was so strange that it stuck in my mind.

'This is exceptional, said Hubert. 'I congratulate you, sir. Most people would not have known.

The batman moved out of the deeper shadows and now could be seen more clearly. He was a strange, angular, humanlike figure with an air of mingled strength and humility.

'Rest easy, sir, he said. 'I am a robot, but I will do no harm. My one purpose is to serve you. Shall I turn on a light? Are you ready for a light?

'Yes, I am ready. Please, a light, said Tennyson.

A lamp on a table against the farther wall came on. The room was a match for the living area he had seen earlier, its furniture solid and substantial, metal knobs gleaming, old wood shining darkly, paintings on the walls.

He threw back the covers and saw that he was naked. He swung his legs out of bed and his feet came down on carpeting. He reached for the chair beside his bed where he had draped his clothes. They were no longer there. He pulled back his hand, ran it through his hair and scrubbed his face. The whiskers grated underneath his palm.

'Your wardrobe has not arrived as yet, said Hubert, 'but I managed to obtain a change of clothes for you. The bath is over there; the coffee's ready in the kitchen.

'Bath first, said Tennyson. 'Would there be a shower?

'A shower or tub. If you prefer the tub, I can draw your bath.

'No, shower's fine. Faster. I have work to do. Is there any word of Mary?

'Knowing you would wish to know, said Hubert, 'I visited her about an hour ago. Nurse tells me she is doing well, responding to the protein. You'll find towels, toothbrush and shaving tackle laid out in the bath. When you are finished, I'll have your clothing for you.

'Thanks, said Tennyson. 'You're proficient at your job. Do you do it often?

'I am Mr. Ecuyer's man, sir. He has two of us. He is loaning me to you.

When he emerged from the bath, Tennyson found that the bed had been made and his clothes laid out on it.

The robot, he realized, now really seeing him for the first time, was a close approximation of a human — an idealized, shiny human. His head was bald and his polished metal was quite frankly metal, but other than that, he was passing human. He wore no clothing, but his entire body had a decorative look about it that gave the illusion of clothes.

'Will you wish breakfast now? the robot asked.

'No, only coffee now. Breakfast can come later. I'll look in on Mary and then be back.

'I'll serve the coffee in the living room, said Hubert. 'In front of the fireplace. I'll stir up the fire and have it blazing well.