“That’s just it, you know? My intuitions. They’re one of the side-effects of the chemfets. I know when something’s wrong here. And something is definitely wrong.”

“Like something is wrong in Denmark, wherever that was.”

“‘Something is rotten in the state of Denmark,’ “ Derec corrected. The line came from the fairly rotten production of Hamlet that he had staged (while playing the leading role to Ariel’s Ophelia) with an all-robot supporting cast.

“What’s really rotten is your mood,” Ariel said. “I thought you were going to lighten up.”

Her words, spoken so softly, soothed him. Ariel could be the cleverest, most sarcastic person in the universe, especially when she got her dander up, but she often knew the moment when a quietly spoken phrase was the right tactic. He took her into his arms.

“Oh, Ariel, it’s just-just that I’m never sure. I still remember so little of my life that I feel like I’m Hamlet.”

“Isn’t that just a carryover from having played the role?”

“Maybe. But I do relate to the character. I’m alone-”

“Hey, you’ve got me.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I mean that I have to be in charge of this city.”

“There’s a saying somewhere about its being lonely at the top.”

“Something like that. I’m never sure what I do is right. My father didn’t really tell me how to take care of things. Just made me leader and took off. I don’t know who my mother is. I don’t really know what my mission is. Stuff like that. They’re not the same as Hamlet’s, but they’re similar uncertainties.”

“Maybe what destroyed Hamlet is he thought too much about what he was doing. Like you’re doing now. Snap out of it, my love. You’re not Hamlet. If anything, you’re a hero, a man of action rather than a procrastinator. These, what you call uncertainties, are only human reactions to, well, the uncertainty of existence.”

Derec laughed. “Now you ’ re getting too heavy.”

“I have been putting on a bit of weight. Ever since falling in love with you, my love. So let’s get moving. I need the exercise, and you need some work to get the glooms out of your head.”

“It’s a deal. You know what we have to do? Find Avernus, Dante, Rydberg, Euler, all the other Supervisor robots who link up to the computer. They must know what’s going on around here. And we can hack through the computer itself, see if we can come up with something.”

“Okay, buddy.”

Holding hands, they started in the direction of the Compass Tower. After they’d walked a few steps, two humanoid robots came running by. They were tossing around a large metal sphere, perhaps an oversized ball bearing from somewhere. The sphere went back and forth between them. From their speaker grilles came a continuous outpouring of satisfied sounds.

“What was that?” Derec said after they had passed. He would have stopped to interview them, but he had been too amazed at the sight to think of any logical action.

“They seem to be playing some sort of game.”

“Game? Robots playing games?”

“Odd, I agree. Kinda cute, though. I never thought much about robots having fun.”

“I’m not sure robots are supposed to have fun.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“Maybe I’m jealous. I wouldn’t mind having the time to throw a ball around.”

“Well, we could join in. But, from the size and apparent weight of that ball, I think one catch’d flatten either one of us. I know what you mean, though. I’d like to return to Aurora and hike across a few fields, or just lie about and enjoy a rigorously enforced lethargy.”

“Still, that game there is just another anomaly for us to consider. Why aren’t they occupied with their duties? Who could have told all these robots to take time off to dance and play ball?”

“Maybe we’re just not used to them having time off.”

“No, it’s more than that. Robots don’t have time off. Whenever they’re not doing something, they just stand there. On Aurora, you people store them in those wall-niches. And why in blazes would any robots ever play games? And, if a robot is playing a game like that and making happy sounds, does that mean it’s having fun? Is there any way it could feel the sensation of-”

“Stop! I’m not up to one those positronic conundrums right now. You can be terribly single-minded, darling.”

“And you love me for it.”

“Only when I’m what you’re single-minded about.”

They stopped walking for a moment to kiss. A robot passing by whistled: Unused to such rude behavior from a robot, Derec angrily broke from the embrace and ran up to the whistler, ordering it to halt. It stood, awaiting Derec’s words.

“Did you whistle just now?”

“Yes. You know how to whistle, don’t you? You just pucker up your lips and blow.”

“I know how to whistle. But how do you know? You don’t even have lips to pucker up.”

“A technicality. I can reproduce any human sound using my mimicry integrals.”

“You have mimicry integrals?”

“I do now.”

“You didn’t once?”

“Until recently, I didn’t.”

“And you can copy human sounds?”

“Name one, kid. Please.”

“You shouldn’t call me kid.”

“I was not aware of that. I call everyone kid.”

“Well, not me. And why aren’t you answering my questions?”

“I don’t cotton to the third degree, copper.”

“Kid, cotton, copper? You’re using slang, aren’t you?”

“You ain’t just a kiddin’, kid.”

“Where did you learn slang?”

“Same place I learned whistling.”

“And you never told me that. Okay, start back at the beginning. Where did you learn to whistle?”

“I saw it in a movie.”

“A movie? You watch movies? How is that possible?”

“There are many stored in the Compass Tower, pal. They are for research. We must study humans to understand them, kiddo. And there ain’t been many o’ you fellas around Robot City, so how else can we study you? We obtain the movies from the computer’s entertainment system.”

“Is that what’s going on here then? You robots’ve been watching old movies?”

“Some of us.”

Ariel stepped forward to address the new robot. She talked quietly, in contrast to Derec’s nervous and energetic tone. “When do you have time for that? What about your duties?”

The robot swiveled its head toward her. “Oh, I get it. I like it. You’re doing one of those copper tricks. The good-guy-bad-guy routine, I think it’s called.”

“It’s no routine. Answer my question. You have to obey Second Law.”

“Sorry. All right. I am not aware that the fulfillment of my duties is in any way impaired by the time I spend with hyperwave and prehyperwave movies and shows.”

“What is your job?”

“I am a perimeter-observation and intruder-inspection specialist.”

“A what? That doesn’t-wait, do you mean a border guard?”

“That is the vulgar term, Mistress Ariel.”

“We don’t need border guards. Robot City’s allover the planet. There aren’t any borders.”

The robot made a move with his shoulders that, in a human, would have been a shrug. “I was misinformed,” it said.

Now Derec took over the questioning. “You do a job for which there is no need?”

“It seems so.”

“Was border guard always your job?”

“No. I was once an Analyst.”

“You would have to be reprogrammed to change your role here.”

“Yes.”

“And you were?”

“Yes.”

“Who did the reprogramming?”

“I am not allowed to say.”

“Yes, you can. You are allowed to tell me.”

“Nope. I realize you are Derec, but this is not a matter of Robotic Law protocol. I really cannot. There is a block upon the information which, if I attempt to reveal it to-”

“I know, I know. The information self-destructs. You forget it before you can say it.”

“That is so.”

Derec, looking worried, turned his back on the robot. “Heads up,” he said to Ariel, then reared back his fist, as if to smash her in the face.