While Serena tended the robot’s prized flowers in their delicate terra cotta pots, Erasmus watched her with continuing fascination.

She looked up, not sure how far she could— or should— push the thinking machine. “In order to understand humanity, Erasmus, it is not necessary to inflict so much cruelty.”

The robot swiveled his mirrored face to her, forming the flowmetal into a puzzled expression. “Cruelty? I have never had such an intent.”

“You are evil, Erasmus. I see the way you treat human slaves, how you torment them, torture them, force them to live under terrible conditions.”

“I am not evil, Serena, just curious. I pride myself on the objectivity of my researches.”

She stood behind a flowerpot holding a bright red spray of geraniums, as if it might protect her in case the robot became violent. “Oh? What about the tortures in your labs?”

Erasmus showed her an unreadable expression. “Those are my private inquiries, conducted under strict, delicate controls. You must not go into the laboratories. I forbid you to see them. I do not want you to disrupt my experiments.”

“Your experiments with them . . . or with me?”

The robot merely gave her a maddeningly placid smile and did not answer.

Upset with him, aware of how much harm he was doing and still despairingly heartsick now that she carried Xavier’s child, Serena overreacted, knocking the flowerpot off its ledge. It smashed on the hard glazed tiles of the greenhouse floor.

Erasmus looked at the shattered clay pot, the spilled earth, the crumpled red flowers. “Unlike humans, I never destroy indiscriminately, to no purpose.”

Serena lifted her chin. “You never show a kind side, either. Why not do good deeds for a change?”

“Good deeds?” Erasmus seemed genuinely interested. “Such as?”

Automated misters sprayed down from the greenhouse piping, watering the plants with a gentle hiss. Not wanting to lose the opportunity, Serena said, “Feed your slaves better, for one thing. Not just the privileged trustees, but the household servants and the poor wretches you keep like animals in your pens.”

“And better food will accomplish this purpose?” Erasmus asked. “A good deed?”

“It will take away one aspect of their continuing misery. What do you have to lose, Erasmus? Are you afraid?”

He was not baited by her taunts and said only, “I shall consider it.”

FOUR SENTINEL ROBOTS intercepted Serena as she went about her rounds in the large villa. With only brusque commands, they escorted her out to the open courtyard facing the seaside. The robots were well-armored and carried implanted projectile weapons, but they were not conversationalists. They simply marched ahead, keeping Serena between them.

She tried to drive back an unsettling, seeping fear. She could never guess what brutally naïve experiment Erasmus might concoct.

Outside, under the vast open blue sky, she saw birds circling high above the cliffs. She smelled the salt from the ocean, heard the distant whispering roar of surf. Among the lush green lawns and well-manicured shrubs overlooking the squalid slave pens, Serena was astonished to see long tables surrounded by hundreds of chairs. Under the breezy sunshine, robots had laid out an elaborate banquet, long tables with gleaming silverware, goblets full of colored liquids, and platters heaped high with steaming meats, colorful fruits, and sugary desserts. Bouquets of fresh flowers stood at regular intervals on each tabletop, accenting the lavish scene.

Crowds of uneasy slaves stood behind barricades, looking both longingly and fearfully at the elaborate dishes set out on the tables. Savory aromas and fruity perfumes wafted through the air, tantalizing, tempting.

Serena stopped in amazement. “What is all this?” The four robots with her took a step forward, then also halted.

Erasmus came up to her wearing an artfully satisfied expression. “It is a feast, Serena. Isn’t it wonderful? You should be overjoyed.”

“I am . . . intrigued,” she said.

Erasmus raised his metal hands, and sentinel robots opened the barricades and urged the chosen humans forward. The slaves hurried to the tables, but they seemed intimidated.

“I have selected the demographics carefully,” Erasmus said, “including representatives from all different castes: trustee humans, simple workers, artisans, and even the most ill-mannered slaves.”

The captives took their seats and sat rigidly, staring at the food, their hands fumbling on their laps. They all carried a look of skittish fear mixed with confusion. Many of the guests looked as if they would rather be anywhere but here, for no one trusted the master of the house. The food was probably poisoned, and all the guests would die horribly while Erasmus took notes.

“Eat!” the robot said. “I have prepared this feast. It is my good deed.”

Now Serena understood what he was doing. “This isn’t what I meant, Erasmus. I intended for you to give them better rations, to improve their daily nutrition, to make them healthier. A single banquet does nothing.”

“It increases their goodwill toward me.” Some guests tentatively put food on their plates, but no one had yet dared to take a bite. “Why are they not eating? I have made a generous effort.” The robot looked at Serena for an answer.

“They are terrified of you, Erasmus.”

“But I am not being evil now.”

“How do they know that? How can they trust you? Tell me the truth, did you poison the food? Maybe just random dishes?”

“An interesting idea, but that is not part of the experiment.” Erasmus remained perplexed. “However, an observer often affects the outcome of his experiment. I see no way around this problem.” Then his pliable face formed a large grin. “Unless I become part of the experiment myself.”

Extruding his snakelike sensory probe, Erasmus strutted around the nearest table, dipping the analytical tip into different sauces and dishes, studying each bit of spice or flavor chemically. The people watched him uncertainly.

Serena saw many faces turn toward her, hopeful. Arriving at a decision, she smiled reassuringly and raised her voice. “Listen to me. Eat, and enjoy his feast. Erasmus has no evil purpose in mind today.” She looked at the robot. “Unless he has lied to me.”

“I do not know how to lie.”

“I’m certain you could learn, if you studied enough.”

Serena marched to the nearest banquet table, where she picked up a morsel of tender meat from the nearest platter and popped it into her mouth. Then she went down the table, plucked a slice of fruit, tasted a dessert.

The people smiled, their eyes shining. The young woman seemed angelic and reassuring as she sampled dishes, doing her best to prove that the banquet was indeed what it appeared to be. “Come, my friends, and join me. Though I cannot give you your freedom, we shall at least share one afternoon of happiness.”

Like starving men, the captives fell to the platters of food, taking large helpings, groaning with pleasure, spilling sauces, and then licking everything up so as not to waste a speck. They looked at her with gratitude and admiration, and Serena felt warm inside, glad that she had at last accomplished something for these poor people.

For the first time, Erasmus had tried to do a good deed. Serena hoped to coerce him into doing more.

One woman came over and tugged at Serena’s sleeve. Serena looked at the large dark eyes, the haggard but hopeful expression. “What is your name?” the slave asked. “We need to know. We will tell others what you have done here.”

“I am Serena,” she said. “Serena Butler. And I have asked Erasmus to improve your living conditions. He will see that you receive better rations every day.” She turned to look at the robot, narrowing her eyes. “Isn’t that correct?”

The robot gave her a placid, comfortable smile as if content— not at what he had done, but at the interesting things he had observed. “As you wish, Serena Butler.”