voices
"In front of it stood a robot. At the sight of me, the robot opened the door and stepped aside. The curious sounds became stronger. I looked inside; it was not as dark as I had thought at first. Because of the murderous heat from the sheet metal I could hardly breathe, and would have backed out immediately had it not been for the voices. For they were human voices--distorted, merging in a hoarse chorus, blurred, babbling, as though in the gloom a pile of defective telephones were talking. I took two uncertain steps, something crunched beneath my feet, and clearly, from the floor, it spoke:
"Pleash...shir...haff..."
I stood rooted to the spot. The stifling air tasted of iron. The whisper came from below.
"Pleash...haff...look ar-round...pleash..."
It was joined by a second, monotonous voice, steadily reciting:
"O anomaly eccentric...O asymptote spherical...O pole in infinity...O protosystem linear...O system holonomic...O space semimetrical...O space spherical...O space dielectrical..."
"Pleash...Shir...yer shervet...pleash..."
The darkness teemed with husky whisperings, out of which boomed:
"The planetary bioplasm, its decaying mud, is the dawn of existence, the initial phase, and lo from the bloody, dough-brained cometh copper...."
"Brek--break--brabzel--be...bre...veryscope..."
"O class imaginary...O class powerful...O class empty...O class of classes..."
"Pleash...haff...look ar-round...shir..."
"Hush-sh..."
"You..."
"Sh-sh."
"Hear me...."
"I hear...."
"Can you touch...?"
"Brek--break--brabzel..."
"No arms..."
"Sh-shame...you...you would see what a shiny and cold I am...."
"L-let them re...turn my armor, my golden sword...my inheri...tance...dis...possessed... night...."
"Behold the last efforts of the strutting croaking master of quartering and incarceration, for yea it riseth, thrice riseth the coming kingdom of the nonliving...."
"I'm new...quite new...I never had a short in the skeleton....I am still able...please..."
"Pleash..."
I did not know which way to look, asphyxiated by the merciless heat and those voices. They came from all sides. From the floor to the window slots below the ceiling rose heaps of twisted and tangled bodies; the little light that filtered in was reflected weakly in their dented metal.
"I had a temp, a temporary defect, but now I am all, am all right, I can see...."
"What do you see...it is dark...."
"Listen, please. I am invaluable, I am expensive. I indicate every power leak, I locate every stray current, every overload, just test me, please....This...this shaking is temporary....It has nothing in common with...please..."
"Pleash...shir..."
"And the dough-headed took their acid fermentation for a soul, the stabbing of meat for history, the means of postponing their decay for civilization...."
"Please, me...only me...it is a mistake...."
"Pleash...shir...haff..."
"I will save you...."
"Who is that...."
"What..."
"Who saves?"
"Repeat after me: the fire will not consume me utterly, and the water will not turn me all to rust, both elements will be a gate unto me, and I shall enter...."
"Hush-sh-sh!"
"The contemplation of the cathode--"
"Cathodoplation--"
"I am here by mistake....I think...I think, after all..."
"I am the mirror of betrayal...."
"Pleash...shir...yer shervet...haff a look ar-round..."
"O flight of the transfinite, O flight of the nebulae...O flight of the stars..."
"He is here!!!" something cried; and a sudden silence fell, a silence almost as penetrating in its terrible tension as the tension of the many-voiced chorus that had preceded it.
"Sir!!!" said something; I do not know why I was so sure, but I felt that these words were directed to me, I did not respond. "Sir, please...a moment of your time. Sir, I--am different. I am here by mistake."
There was a stir.
"Silence! I am living!" This outshouted the rest. "Yes, I was thrown in here, they dressed me in metal on purpose, so no one would know, but please, only put your ear to me and you will hear a pulse!"
"I also!" came a second voice over the first. "I also! Sir! I was ill; during my illness, I imagined that I was a machine, that was my madness, but now I am well! Hallister, Mr. Hallister can vouch for me, please ask him, please get me out of here!"
"Pleash...pleash, shir..."
"Brek...break..."
"Your servant..."
The barracks buzzed and roared with rusty voices, at one point it was filled with a breathless scream, I began to retreat and stumbled backward into the sunlight, blinded, squinting; I stood awhile, shielding my eyes with my hand; behind me was a drawn-out grating sound; the robot had shut the door and bolted it.
"Sirrrr..." This still reached me through the wave of muffled voices from behind the wall. "Pleash...service...a mistake..."
I passed the glass annex. I did not know where I was going--I only wanted to get away from those voices, not to hear them..."
Stanislaw Lem (1921- ): Return from the Stars (Powrót z Gwiazd, 1961)
"Pleash...shir...haff..."
I stood rooted to the spot. The stifling air tasted of iron. The whisper came from below.
"Pleash...haff...look ar-round...pleash..."
It was joined by a second, monotonous voice, steadily reciting:
"O anomaly eccentric...O asymptote spherical...O pole in infinity...O protosystem linear...O system holonomic...O space semimetrical...O space spherical...O space dielectrical..."
"Pleash...Shir...yer shervet...pleash..."
The darkness teemed with husky whisperings, out of which boomed:
"The planetary bioplasm, its decaying mud, is the dawn of existence, the initial phase, and lo from the bloody, dough-brained cometh copper...."
"Brek--break--brabzel--be...bre...veryscope..."
"O class imaginary...O class powerful...O class empty...O class of classes..."
"Pleash...haff...look ar-round...shir..."
"Hush-sh..."
"You..."
"Sh-sh."
"Hear me...."
"I hear...."
"Can you touch...?"
"Brek--break--brabzel..."
"No arms..."
"Sh-shame...you...you would see what a shiny and cold I am...."
"L-let them re...turn my armor, my golden sword...my inheri...tance...dis...possessed... night...."
"Behold the last efforts of the strutting croaking master of quartering and incarceration, for yea it riseth, thrice riseth the coming kingdom of the nonliving...."
"I'm new...quite new...I never had a short in the skeleton....I am still able...please..."
"Pleash..."
I did not know which way to look, asphyxiated by the merciless heat and those voices. They came from all sides. From the floor to the window slots below the ceiling rose heaps of twisted and tangled bodies; the little light that filtered in was reflected weakly in their dented metal.
"I had a temp, a temporary defect, but now I am all, am all right, I can see...."
"What do you see...it is dark...."
"Listen, please. I am invaluable, I am expensive. I indicate every power leak, I locate every stray current, every overload, just test me, please....This...this shaking is temporary....It has nothing in common with...please..."
"Pleash...shir..."
"And the dough-headed took their acid fermentation for a soul, the stabbing of meat for history, the means of postponing their decay for civilization...."
"Please, me...only me...it is a mistake...."
"Pleash...shir...haff..."
"I will save you...."
"Who is that...."
"What..."
"Who saves?"
"Repeat after me: the fire will not consume me utterly, and the water will not turn me all to rust, both elements will be a gate unto me, and I shall enter...."
"Hush-sh-sh!"
"The contemplation of the cathode--"
"Cathodoplation--"
"I am here by mistake....I think...I think, after all..."
"I am the mirror of betrayal...."
"Pleash...shir...yer shervet...haff a look ar-round..."
"O flight of the transfinite, O flight of the nebulae...O flight of the stars..."
"He is here!!!" something cried; and a sudden silence fell, a silence almost as penetrating in its terrible tension as the tension of the many-voiced chorus that had preceded it.
"Sir!!!" said something; I do not know why I was so sure, but I felt that these words were directed to me, I did not respond. "Sir, please...a moment of your time. Sir, I--am different. I am here by mistake."
There was a stir.
"Silence! I am living!" This outshouted the rest. "Yes, I was thrown in here, they dressed me in metal on purpose, so no one would know, but please, only put your ear to me and you will hear a pulse!"
"I also!" came a second voice over the first. "I also! Sir! I was ill; during my illness, I imagined that I was a machine, that was my madness, but now I am well! Hallister, Mr. Hallister can vouch for me, please ask him, please get me out of here!"
"Pleash...pleash, shir..."
"Brek...break..."
"Your servant..."
The barracks buzzed and roared with rusty voices, at one point it was filled with a breathless scream, I began to retreat and stumbled backward into the sunlight, blinded, squinting; I stood awhile, shielding my eyes with my hand; behind me was a drawn-out grating sound; the robot had shut the door and bolted it.
"Sirrrr..." This still reached me through the wave of muffled voices from behind the wall. "Pleash...service...a mistake..."
I passed the glass annex. I did not know where I was going--I only wanted to get away from those voices, not to hear them..."
Stanislaw Lem (1921- ): Return from the Stars (Powrót z Gwiazd, 1961)
