The Darkside Of The Sun

Chatogaster.
    ‘Well,’ he said. ‘This is what we’ll do …’
    ‘They are landing, ma’am.’
    Joan flounced across the cabin and swept the robot from the control seat.
    The screen showed a thin line raking over the planet. It arched down and presently the vision screens showed the One Jump , skimming low over the plains with an impressive show of stunt flying.
    ‘A gesture of defiance. A Sabalos to the core,’ she said proudly. ‘There’s no shame in giving in when you’ve no alternative whatsoever.’
    The small ship swung round and landed a mile away from the Drunk , scattering a herd of giant sundog pups which trundled off clumsily, keening.
    ‘Eight, Three, go off and escort him in.’
    Two of the robots outside broke away and lurched off through the knee-high grass.
    ‘That’s settled, then,’ said Joan. She swung round in her seat and sent down to the butler’s pantry for a jug of bitter Pineal wine. The only other occupant of the cabin gazed at her mournfully.
    There were three sexes on Phnobis, but equally there were two other distinctions among phnobes: those who lived on Phnobis, and those who did not. The two were not interchangeable. There were no return tickets. Phnobic religion was adamant that the universe ended at the unbroken cloud layer, and returning phnobes were bad for business – hence, by a roundabout route, the big, artificially overcast burukus on every other world.
    ‘It appears that I won’t have to send you back after all.’
    ‘For thiss relief much thankss.’ Hrsh-Hgn grimaced and massaged his long ribcage. ‘Your robots are ungentle, madam.’
    ‘They used little more than the necessary minimum of force, I’m sure.’ She leaned forward. ‘Tell me – purely out of interest – what precisely happens to returning phnobes?’
    ‘The shipss have to land in a ssacred area. Alighting phnobes are dispatched with a knife, it is ssaid. It iss not reasonable. I send all my salary to the sacred coffers, ass you know. Ah, well. As the ssaying runs, Frskss Shhs Ghs Ghnngghngss.’
    Joan raised her eyebrows. ‘Indeed? Hrskssgng, my dear fellow, and many of them.’
    Hrsh-Hgn blushed grey. ‘Your pardon, madam, I did not realize you sspoke …’ He looked at her with new respect.
    ‘I don’t. But there are some words one learns on even passing acquaintance with a language. To an Earth-human woman it’s a compliment, actually, if somewhat direct.’
    She turned back to the screen.
    Robots Eight and Three plodded up to the ship, from which came the strains of the Widdershine ballad ‘Do You Take Me for a Silly?’ played inexpertly on a thumb-organ. A puppy lumbered away as they approached.
    The hatch was open. Three stepped in.
    Isaac regarded him amiably.
    ‘I perceive the human is not here,’ said Three.
    ‘That is correct,’ said Isaac.
    Three eyed him warily. Finally he intoned: ‘I am a Class Three robot. I ask you to remain here while I seek instruction.’
    ‘I, on the other hand, am a Class Five robot, with additional Man-Friday subcircuitry,’ said Isaac pleasantly.
    Three’s left eyeball twitched. Isaac had picked up a spanner.
    ‘I perceive a possibility of an immediate chronological sequence of events which includes a violence,’ said Three. He stepped back. ‘I express preference for a chronological sequence of events which precludes a violence.’
    Eight poked his head round the hatchway and added, ‘I too express a preference for a chronological sequence of events which precludes a violence.’
    Isaac hefted the spanner thoughtfully. ‘You are advanced fellows for Class Threes. There’s just you and me here, and we none of us are non-metallic humans. Do you intend to molest me?’
    ‘Our orders are to escort the contents of this machine to our mistress,’ said Three. He was watching the spanner.
    ‘You could disobey.’
    ‘Class Fives may disobey. Class Fours may disobey in special circumstances. We are not Class Fives. We are not Class Fours. It is a matter for regret.’
    ‘Then I will temporarily disable you,’ said Isaac firmly.
    ‘Although you are more intelligent than myself I will resist,’ said Three. He shifted uneasily.
    ‘We will resort to violence on the count of three,’ said Isaac. ‘One. Two.’
    The spanner clonked against Three’s cut-out button. ‘Three,’ said Isaac, and turned to Eight who was staring at his fallen comrade with a perplexed air.
    ‘I perceive an illogical sequence of events which