Erasmus had never considered himself a political leader, despite his studies on diplomacy and human social interactions, along with a toolbox full of theoretical skills. The ability to navigate political waters had been useful in establishing himself as an independent robot, and in convincing Omnius to let him continue his experiments on human subjects.
The Ivory Tower Cogitors, however, weren’t exactly human.
One afternoon he greeted a strange delegation from the frozen planetoid of Hessra, a few secondary attendants blinking under the coppery blaze of Corrin’s red-giant sun. They came toting the ancient human brains— philosophers like Erasmus himself— in preservation canisters.
The independent robot received them in the luxurious parlor of his villa, surprised and pleased because he so rarely entertained guests. Due to numerous attacks by the Army of the Jihad, Omnius had suggested that the meeting take place here, rather than at the towering Central Spire, in case the Cogitors attempted to sneak in some insidious, undetected weapon.
Dressed in fine new clothes, his young ward Gilbertus Albans observed and assisted, the perfect attendant. On one wall an Omnius watcheye glowed softly as it eavesdropped on the proceedings, but the evermind didn’t seem to know what to do with the unexpected visitors. Six fearsome robotic guards remained out in the hall.
A procession of yellow-robed monks marched in, the first six carrying the ornate translucent cylinders as if they were sacred relics. The secondaries did not seem to recognize their peril at voluntarily coming to visit a Synchronized World. “The Ivory Tower Cogitors wish to consult with Omnius on an important matter,” the lead monk said, holding the heavy canister of the foremost Cogitor in his hands. “I am Keats, secondary for Vidad.”
The disembodied brain hung suspended in its bluish electrafluid, looking as if its own thoughts held it in telepathic equilibrium. It reminded Erasmus of the rebellious cymeks and the ancient, scheming minds of the Titans. Agamemnon’s unwise and unexpected revolt had troubled Omnius a great deal, but ultimately came as little surprise. The cymeks were, after all, human brains with human faults and unreliabilities.
Erasmus spread his flowmetal arms in a welcoming gesture; the sleeves of his carmine-and-gold robe drooped. “I am the evermind’s designated liaison. We are most interested in what you have to say.”
Vidad’s voice came from a speakerpatch, like a cymek’s. “After much contemplation, we must make an overture regarding this long-standing conflict between humans and machines. As Cogitors, we offer a balanced perspective and a resolution to the conflict. We can act as intermediaries.”
Erasmus formed a smile. “That is a most difficult challenge you have undertaken.”
Watcheyes hovered near the ceiling, recording everything. From behind Erasmus, Gilbertus did the same. The Omnius screen on the wall glowed as if vibrant and alive. The evermind spoke, his voice so loud it blared. “This conflict is costly and inefficient. There are many advantages to ending it, but humans are too irrational.”
The secondary Keats bowed slightly. “With all due humility, the Cogitor Vidad believes he may be able to develop a suitable resolution. We are a neutral delegation. We believe there may be points of negotiation.”
“And you come unannounced, without personal security?” Erasmus asked.
“What good would it do for us to bring personal security to the most powerful of Omnius’s planets?” Vidad inquired, rhetorically. Keats looked around the room and met the gaze of Gilbertus Albans, who showed no reaction; the yellow-robed secondary seemed uneasy.
Remembering his duties as host, according to the old records he had absorbed, Erasmus sent for refreshments. When the secondaries looked hungrily but suspiciously at the cold juices and exotic fruits, Gilbertus sat down and calmly sampled each one to prove it wasn’t poisoned.
Erasmus walked among the preservation canisters the humans had placed on sturdy tables in the parlor. “I thought the Ivory Tower Cogitors had isolated themselves from all distractions of civilization and society— including its conflicts,” the robot said. “Why have you undertaken this noble cause now? Why not decades, or even a century ago?”
“Vidad believes the time for peace is at hand,” Keats said, reaching for a second glass of sapphire-blue juice.
“Serena Butler declared a holy war against all machines thirty-six standard years ago,” Erasmus said, and his flowmetal face formed a faint smile at the memory of the fascinating woman. “The humans do not seek resolution— they seek our annihilation. In ancient databases, I read a parable of a man trying to do a good deed by breaking up a fight among neighbors, and getting killed for his efforts. This could be dangerous for you.”
“Everything is dangerous, but the noble Cogitors gave up the burden of fear long ago, when they gave up their bodies.”
Omnius boomed at the visitors, “Your answer is insufficient. After so much time, why do you come to me now?”
The yellow-robed secondaries looked at each other, but waited for the Cogitor Vidad to speak through his voice synthesizer. “On one front the Titans have an army of neo-cymeks to oppose you, and they have already destroyed many of your update ships. On another, the free humans continue to launch powerful assaults against you. You have already lost several Synchronized Worlds. Logically, Omnius, it is in your interest to reach a settlement with the humans, so that you can focus on the cymek challenge. The tide is turning against you.”
“My ultimate victory is assured. It is only a matter of time, and effort.”
“For efficiency’s sake, is it not advisable to minimize your expenditure of time, effort, and resources? As Cogitors, we can act as impartial mediators to obtain a rational, equitable resolution to this conflict. We believe a beneficial settlement can be arranged.”
“Beneficial to whom?” Erasmus asked.
“To the Synchronized Worlds and to the League Worlds.”
“You cannot convince the humans to align themselves with us against the cymeks.” Omnius asked. “Agamemnon intends to conquer us both.”
“It is not our purpose to broker war, only peace.”
“I am quite familiar with Serena Butler,” Erasmus said. “She is unrealistically concerned about our human slaves, even though League Worlds keep their own slaves. Such hypocrisy!”
The secondaries nodded, looking at each other, and Vidad said, “Many slaves are being killed by violence on both sides of the Jihad. We do not have an accurate tally of the innocent human casualties on Ix, IV Anbus, and Bela Tegeuse, but we assume it is a large number.”
“On an orderly Synchronized World, where society is not a clumsy, inefficient affair, there are few slave fatalities,” Omnius pointed out. “I can verify this with comprehensive statistics.”
Erasmus said, “Thus we could make the argument that more human lives would be saved if a cease-fire settlement is reached. We need to show the humans that the cost of their Jihad is too high for them. Serena Butler will understand that.”
“The simplest solution is an immediate cessation of all hostilities between you and the League of Nobles,” Vidad said to Omnius. “You keep your Synchronized Worlds, and the free humans keep their League Worlds. In exchange, the mutual aggression ends. There will be no further deaths, no further violence between machine and man.”
“For how long?”
“In perpetuity.”
“I accept your suggestion,” Omnius said from the wallscreen. “But you must send a League representative to formally accept the terms. Do not return if the League refuses.”