“All right.” Cooper bowed slightly. “His name is George Gustaf Charles Ferdinand Louis Jaro Taisho… Well, he’ll tell you the others if he wishes. You will find him at Islington Robot Hospital, where he is chief professional psychiatrist. As for his titles, they include the Crowns of Holland, Belgium, Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Japan, China, Russia, Britain, large parts of Africa and the Americas—”
“Hold it!” Hamilton raised his hand.’ “Mr. Cooper, just what is meant by this term ‘Crown’?”
Cooper smiled for the first time. “Why, it means that in all of those lands His Majesty is, by the grace of God and by sovereign right, king.”
Cooper leaned forward and looked at Hamilton benignly.
“He is your king too, you know.”
2
The nameplate read:
DR. GEORGE GUSTAF CHIEF PROFESSIONAL ROBOT AND ANDROID PSYCHOLOGY
Hamilton stopped before the door and adjusted the amateur researcher credential on his lapel. He wished he had kept Dan with him instead of sending him off to the library.
At first he had expected to find out that Gustaf was as crazy as his ‘valet.’ But the man’s public dossier was impeccable. In his productive Vocation he was one of the most respected robo-psychiatrists in Europe. His intellectual avocations included law and history, in each of which he had been awarded honorary professional status, a rare encomium. Everyone envied a person who won Vocation in more than one area. Gustaf had three professions!
He knocked on the door. After a moment it was opened by a dark-haired young man of above medium height, who smiled broadly and offered his hand.
“Mr. Smith? Please come in and have a seat. I’ll be right with you.”
Hamilton found himself a chair across from a broad, hand-carved mahogany desk. Dr. Gustaf passed through a side door into a treatment room. Hamilton could hear him giving firm advice to a Drone Class robot. The machine’s answers were a series of clicks and beeps that Hamilton couldn’t begin to interpret.