Counsellor Raleigh Dumas rubbed her bruised shoulder, and tried to concentrate on what was being said to her.

'...it's been escalating for weeks. Now they've divided the town into zones. We're worried that something terrible will happen...'

The lady talking was the chief security officer of Kriya Taun, and, as far as she could tell, also the vet. And possibly something to do with food, but she'd sorta tuned out for that. People seemed to wear a lot of hats here.

'So,' said Dumas, gently interrupting, 'what you are saying is that the robots are getting into gangs? Like West Side Story or something?'

Shanta visibly bristled.

'If you just came here to laugh at us...'

'No, I'm sorry. I'm not mocking you. Robots are very literal minded. They will take stimulus from all sorts of places, and draw conclusions that humans sometimes find hard to understand. Fiction is a surprisingly good place to start because of that.'

God, her jaw hurt. Was it clicking?

'Oh! I see. I suppose it is a bit like that. But honestly, I don't know; we've been trying to stay out of it. But it's getting increasingly difficult. So we were very glad that they asked to see you.'

As she'd been talking, Shanta had been staring at Dumas's bruises, her curiosity held in check by politeness. Curiosity finally won out.

'Would you like some sort of medical attention?'

'Ah, no, it's fine; goes with the hobby. Some hothead on the ship didn't know what Akikiti is. He does now... Although, honestly, a soak in a nanotank would be lovely later.'

'Um. OK. Because we're keen to start, we asked one of the robots to speak to you as soon as possible. He's outside. Would you be alright to see him right now?'

'Sure. That's fine.'

Shanta tapped her handheld, and the door opened, and in walked the robot.

It was an older model, humanoid, about her height. His skin was pale blue, and his grip, when he shook her hand, was dry and warm. His unblinking, pitch black eyes gazed straight at hers.

'Hello Lucas,' she said. 'Thanks for coming.'

'Counsellor Dumas, the pleasure is all mine. We're very grateful that you could come at such short notice.'

She smiled. 'Please, call me Raleigh. It wasn't that hard. I'm only a few weeks away.'

'Nonetheless, we still appreciate it. Shanta, I would like some private time with the counsellor. Would you please permit that?'

Shanta looked relieved. 'Of course. If you need anything, please, call,' she said, and left.

Dumas stood. 'Would you mind if we walked and talked, Lucas? Is there anywhere we can do that?'

'Yes. The botanical gardens are quiet at this time of day. The workers will respect our privacy. Follow me, please. I see you've been fighting.'

After all of her years as a robot counsellor, Dumas was used to the directness. In fact, she liked robots more than humans: there was never any offence, taken or intended. So, she just nodded and rolled her shoulders.

'Yep. It was a good fight. The guy was fast. Needed to work on his defence, though. Lucas, that's why you asked specifically for me, isn't it?'

'Yes. You are a counsellor with experience of human ritual combat. We hoped that those skills would help us resolve our issues.'

'Well, OK. I'll try my best. But tell me, Lucas: what exactly are your issues?'

'Let's wait until we get to the gardens.'

#

The planet, Kratu, was similar enough to Earth standard that it had seemed worth investing in as a terraforming project. So the domes and towers of Kriya Taun had been set up on the pale surface, and then they had started raining down the comets. But somewhere along the way, something had been off: some complexity that Dumas didn't care about had meant that the terraforming here would take centuries rather than decades. People came to the colonies for a better life for their children, not their distant descendants: so the humans had mostly packed up and left.

But the robots hadn't.

It meant that the town had become an oddity. It was now a little settlement of robots who governed themselves the way they did everything, patiently and calmly. For humans Kriya Taun had gained a reputation as a retreat, a quiet place to concentrate on inner calm where you could happily live without seeing another soul for days. Which, frankly, sounded awful to Dumas, but she wasn't going to tell anyone that.

And now, it was on the brink of gang war.

The botanical gardens were like everything else here: immaculately clean, quiet, empty. The huge dome above them let the pale sunlight in, and arcs of water from sprinklers painted rainbows in the air, glimpsed between trunks and leaves. All around them there was the buzz of bees, the only noise other than the crunch of their feet on gravel.

'It's nice, isn't it?,' said Lucas.

'Yes, it is,' replied Dumas. 'It's very peaceful.'

'I like to sit here sometimes,' said the robot. 'I find calm here, among the bees. They are very like my people. They work, and they take pride in it. They do not whimper or complain, like mammals. They simply are, and as such, they are complete.'

This was the most elliptical thing a robot had ever said to Dumas. She considered her response carefully.

'I don't know much about bees, Lucas. But I think they do have some of my people's flaws.'

'That is perhaps true. I appreciate you reciprocating my statement that we are a people, Raleigh. Not all of humanity is so forward looking. Shall we sit here?'

They had arrived at a bench. It was made of white wood, and surrounded on three sides by dark hedges covered in bright pink flowers. The bees buzzed around them, ignoring everything except for their work.

'Yes, thank you,' said Dumas, wincing as she sat.

'Although I find that saying this rarely has an effect, I will say it anyway: you should take more care of yourself,' said Lucas.

'I'm surprised you said "rarely",' said Dumas. 'In my experience, it's never. Now. I'd very much like to know what's going on here. Are you guys really on the brink of war?'

'Yes, we are. I'm not affiliated with either faction, which is why I'm speaking to you. I've been trying to broker a peace agreement, but I've not succeeded. We hoped your fresh perspective would help. Let me tell you what happened.

'Kriya Taun has become a haven for our kind. As a self-governing workers colony, we are unique. A number of people have come here, some from quite far away. We understand how many can be supported by the systems here, so it's never a flood: but nevertheless over the years, there's been a significant influx of workers as we have expanded the town and worked on terraforming the planet.'

She frowned. 'I didn't know that.'

'We don't trumpet our movements like you do; and who is interested in where robots travel? These newcomers have brought new ideas with them, many of which have been welcome. But one idea has caused a division in our society that I've never seen before. Its advocates and opponents have found no way of compromising.

'We have the ability to manufacture new workers, here in Kriya Taun. We have not yet, because we believe we must solve some ethical problems. The primary one is that of our happiness. You call us "robots"; we prefer the term "workers", because it defines us. We are designed to take pleasure in our work. A job well done gives us a sense of satisfaction that sustains us. From the dock worker that fixes ships, to the gardener that raises these flowers, we all want to be happy through productivity.'

'I actually know you as workers, Lucas,' said Dumas. 'But, I admit to calling you robots to other humans. It makes everything easier.'

'Again, I appreciate your reciprocity of my ideals. The ethical problem we have is this: there are simply not enough humans. Our cooks and nannies and medics can't be happy. They spend their time in sleep mode, waiting for their next shift. We all have our hobbies, our distractions, but they are not the steel beam that supports our lives. There is no word for it in English, so we borrowed a word from Sanskrit, and we call this type of nourishing work seva. We cannot bring children into Kriya Taun without solving the problem of their seva.'

Dumas nodded, and stared up at the tops of the trees that swayed gently in the artificial breeze. It seemed so calm here, listening to Lucas's quiet words and the bees, that a part of her couldn't imagine any problems could occur at all. But another part of her, the woman who fought in a ring for fun, could sense the coming punch.

'You need to allow some workers to do other jobs; so you need to modify your reward systems. And you disagreed on how to do that,' she said.

'Yes. One group wishes to allow a worker to choose what form their desire for seva takes. So, for example, a cab driver could decide to become a construction worker. Such a decision is terrifying; it is incomprehensible to us to want to do something we are not designed for, and so it feels like a leap into the dark. But it seemed like the only way, until Ane came. She wishes to make all work equal, so that any work of any sort counts as seva. It would mean a cab driver would take as much pleasure driving a cab as painting a picture as designing algae storage.'

'Forgive me for saying this, Lucas: but those two positions sound remarkably similar to me. Both give your people a freedom they've never had before. Does it matter which one you chose?'

'I share this opinion. However, there are subtle distinctions that will have huge repercussions for our society. In the first case, we can ensure that there are enough workers to, say, cook for the humans, perhaps with a quota system. In the second case, there might be a hundred workers who wish to do this job, or none. However, the extra freedom given by the second may mean our society flourishes. I believe that we can manage in either case, and that either is better than none. I am in a very small minority.'

Dumas nodded. 'And so your society has fractured.'

'We are not violent people, Raleigh. We've previously never understood your capacity for war. But now we need a resolution to this dispute, and many of us think that this is the correct way. We see how it has solved your people's differences, although we are apprehensive of the cost. We are afraid, Raleigh. I, personally, do not want our society to start in war, despite how many of yours have. You are a counsellor who engages in ritual combat for pleasure. I hope that you can help us.'

Some distance from them, a robot was picking strawberries. It was another humanoid, like Lucas; it was kneeling down, placing the red fruit into a basket at its knees. It was streaked with red, rough markings slashed across its torso, arms and face.

War paint.

'I need to think about this, Lucas,' she said. 'Can you stop them from doing anything until tomorrow?'

'Yes, I can. I'm grateful for your help, Counsellor Dumas.'

'Save that for when I manage to actually think of something,' she said, rubbing her jaw. 'Right now, I'm all out of ideas...'