Even though Erasmus had dispatched his last functional sentinel robots to defend the villa, he knew it was only a delaying action. The vigor and violence of the slave revolt amazed him, exceeding any of his projections.

Humans have an infinite capacity to surprise the most rational mind.

The slaves in the squalid main pens had been freed by their hrethgir brethren, flooding the ranks of the angry rebels. The revolt had spread through the capital city and to other urban complexes across Earth. His villa was surrounded and would surely fall before long.

Experiments sometimes produce unexpected results.

Donning his most ferocious countenance, designed to inspire nightmares in humans, Erasmus stood on the high balcony from which he had thrown the child. His flowmetal visage was as fierce and frightening as any of the gargoyles in the plaza, while his mechanical mind scanned all available information, processing and reprocessing. Had it been a mistake to kill the little boy? Who would have thought such a trivial death might create a stir like this?

I miscalculated their response.

The crowd in the plaza cursed him and peppered the balcony with small arms fire, which did no harm. More worrisome, they were surging against the heavy metal gate with a battering ram, and the sentinel robots were having trouble preventing them from breaking through. If the rebels got inside the villa, they would surely destroy Erasmus, just as they had killed the Titan Ajax, as they had smashed innumerable robots and neo-cymeks. Erasmus would be their prime target.

In the midst of the throng, a sturdy charismatic man was inciting the rebels. The leader waved his hands, spoke passionately, and seemed to have a hypnotic effect on the mob. He shouted up at Erasmus, causing an uproar from the crowd.

With a pause to assess new data, the robot recognized the rebel leader as one of the subjects of his loyalty experiment. Iblis Ginjo. Reassessments and connections clamored in his mind.

Iblis had been a crew boss, well treated, well rewarded, one of the content trustees. Yet he had thrown his support to the revolt, perhaps even inspired it. Through a few vague, experimental communiqués, Erasmus had somehow galvanized this slave leader into action. But he had not expected such a monumental, incomprehensible response.

Either way, Erasmus had proved his point. Beside him on the balcony, one of the evermind’s glittering watcheyes hovered close to him. The robot did not try to contain his smug realization. “Omnius, it is as I predicted— even the most trusted humans will ultimately turn against you.”

“So you have won the wager,” Omnius said. “That is most unfortunate.”

Erasmus scanned the flames rising in the distant city. If he could look upon the situation objectively it would be a fascinating study in human nature. The psychology of groups under stress was intriguing, though admittedly dangerous. “Indeed, most unfortunate.”

At the front of the villa, the main gate burst open from the repeated pounding of the battering ram. Iblis gestured to his fanatical followers, and the mob swept over his remaining household robots like a tidal wave.

It was time for Erasmus to depart.

Knowing the value of his independent thoughts and conjectures, the robot did not wish to be destroyed. He represented individuality, pride in personal achievement, the possible existence of a soul. He wanted to continue his work, integrating the lessons he had learned from this fascinating revolt.

But for that, he had to escape.

Moment by moment, the mob grew louder. He heard the rampant destruction in his lovely home. He had just enough time to take a fast, armored lift platform down several levels to a secure tunnel system that opened to the hills overlooking the sea.

He hesitated, knowing he was leaving Serena Butler behind, but decided that he had already kept the female around for too long. After he’d killed her baby, she had become even less useful to him, unwilling to provide any additional raw data.

The death of her child had turned her into a wild animal, not caring anymore for her own life. She had attacked him repeatedly, despite his generous overtures to her. In the end, although Erasmus had been tempted to kill her outright, he had not been able to bring himself to do it. Most interesting. He had finally settled for drugging her into a stupor. Now Serena was in one of his laboratories, sedated to the point of catatonia, since Erasmus had found no other way of suppressing her efforts to fight him each time she rose toward consciousness. Alas, he had no time to salvage her now.

In a concealed cave high above the swirling whitecaps, Erasmus boarded a hover capsule. Accompanied by one of Omnius’s watcheyes, he lifted off into the early evening, flying out to sea and circling back over the burning city.

“You are being foolish, Erasmus,” the voice of Omnius said from a bulkhead screen. “You should have waited for the tide of battle to turn in favor of my thinking machines. As it must, inevitably.”

“Perhaps, Omnius, but I have run my own risk assessment. I would rather return to my estate on Corrin, to continue my experiments there. With your permission, of course.”

“You will only cause more trouble,” Omnius said. The hover capsule reached one of the subsidiary spaceports that was still controlled by the thinking machines. “But now, more than ever, it is imperative for us to understand our enemy.”

Erasmus searched the database for a small, available ship that could take him on the long journey to Corrin. Through his work, he had already learned an important lesson: Humans were predictable in only one aspect— in their very unpredictability.