such tactics, and she would not be baited. If one of them moved into range of her blades, they would pay for it; otherwise, she would hold steady. Indeed, she preferred to wait. Every second she delayed the enemy was another second for her master to make his escape.
The beasts sniffed and whined. Perhaps realizing that their opening tactic was unsuccessful, the triangle began to constrict. Amanda knew she needed to dispatch at least one of them in order to have a chance, but if she attacked one, the others would certainly close in. Amanda wanted to think that if her onslaught was swift and effective enough that the others would retreat, but she sensed no fear in these humanoid monsters that danced as though conducting some grisly, alien strip show.
Amanda was about to take her gamble when the back of her leg was sliced open. Instantly, her blade swept back in retaliation, but it cut only air. The thing had withdrawn before her swiftly flowing blood even had time to blotch her skinsuit. Another slash appeared across her stomach as though by some devilish magic. It was deep, and once again the culler had retreated out of reach before she could even the score.
Amanda was on the ground now, but they still did not finish her. She swung her blades about in vain as each of them took turns darting in and out, nicking, slicing, and puncturing. One of her two hearts was pierced and no longer functioned, but the bodyguard fought on, directing her attention to protecting her upper body and head since her legs were now shredded and useless. But then, all at once, the monsters just stopped. They sniffed the air. Their hungry, dark, merciless pupils contracted, and then, standing fully upright and sniffing their surroundings, they simply walked away.
CHAPTER 27
We are not in the business of growing slaves. A product should “enjoy” its purpose. Anything else is unethical and can even be dangerous. There have been many slave revolts in history…not pretty.
Life is motivated by pleasure and pain. You need to design your life to seek out its targeted work at the exclusion of all other activities. For example, if a household servant is required, the servant should be designed with an obsessive-compulsive disorder for cleanliness (see gene template #C139090). Such a servant will vigilantly maintain order in the household without any direction from the owner.
As another example, if a product’s purpose requires painful activities, those pain receptors might be excluded from the product design or a propensity for masochism could be added.
In this process, pleasure and pain are used together to obtain the desired behavior, and most importantly, these stimuli are intrinsic to the being.
Lyra, Djoser, and D_Light had no idea where the strange little girl was taking them, but they did not hesitate to follow. However, nothing could have prepared them for what presented itself on the other side of the hedge-a clearing bordered by high walls of leaves and flowers, in the middle of which sat an elaborate dining set. A long, silver table dominated the space, surrounded by slender, high-backed chairs, between which a banquet was visible. Lily, who had been ahead of the rest, stopped abruptly and stood stone still. Emerging through the hedge as if their lives depended on it, D_Light, Lyra, and Djoser nearly ended up in a heap as they skidded to a stop behind Lily.
“Excellent, I had hoped you would make it in time for supper!” roared a man from the far end of the table-at least D_Light assumed he was a man, for he was so ugly that D_Light’s heart skipped a beat and his left hand, his throwing hand, shot down to where his razor discs were hidden in his skinsuit.
For starters, the man’s face was completely asymmetrical. His left eye was slightly lower than his right, one cheek puffed out as though suffering from an allergic reaction, his nose was crooked, and his left eyebrow was completely gone. And as if the overall structure of the face was not bad enough, his skin was pocked by countless undesirable features-tiny craters, patches of rubbery flesh, tufts of hair where there should be none, and a feeble beard that, had this man any luck at all, would have concealed some of the aforementioned defects. Instead, the beard only darkened areas of his chin and cheeks, further mottling his face.
The grotesque stranger rose from his seat. “Allow me to introduce myself,” he began. “I am Dr. Monsa, and you are our guests!” He outstretched his arms wide as though offering a generous gift. “Please, find a seat. Take a seat and be comfortable.”
Lily led the team in bravery by shuffling forward a few steps as though testing for quicksand. The others did not move at all, but merely stared in awe. An awkward silence followed. Then, suddenly, the doctor erupted with laughter, the short and sudden bursts of sound making D_Light flinch in surprise. “I am afraid I will need to ask of you the nearly impossible task of forgiving my appearance,” the doctor announced. “In my nearly two hundred years as a wetgineer, I bear the scars of many of my creations.” Dr. Monsa bowed sincerely and gestured again for the party to be seated.
Djoser looked back over his shoulder and, through his panting, managed to utter a sound as though trying to speak. Dr. Monsa quickly interrupted him. “Oh, yes, you are absolutely safe now. Like me and the rest of my family, you all now smell absolutely dreadful to my cullers. Please, attempt to relax.”
“One of us was left behind,” Lily announced.
“I see,” replied the doctor, who then looked over at a lanky-limbed, long-haired monkey that stood upright nearby on the table. Dr. Monsa nodded thoughtfully. “Oh, yes, your guardian is alive, but I’m afraid she is a bit worse for wear.” He frowned and added, “She will not be joining us for dinner.”
The doctor’s eyes were distant as he spoke. D_Light took this to mean the doctor had been accessing his familiar. Was the monkey his familiar? D_Light wondered to himself. It was a sin to manufacture a familiar with human-like characteristics such as hands, and possessing such a familiar was a transgression. A familiar with human-like physiology could be used as an extension of the master’s own body, which would likely lead to sloth.
The doctor returned from his vacant-eyed trance, at which point he roved over to Lily. “Lily, is it? Please, it would be an honor if you would sit right here at my side.” The doctor slid a chair out with a flourish that reminded D_Light of something from old movie feeds he used to watch in nursery.
Lily curtsied stiffly as though reciting a long since forgotten ballet move, and took her seat, at which point the doctor swiftly moved behind her and scooted the chair in behind her. Without looking away from the top of Lily’s head, which he stood over, Dr. Monsa made a vague motion to the rest of the party to sit. D_Light, Lyra, and Djoser found seats near each other, creating a defensive line. The three of them rotated their attention between each other, the plates and utensils in front of them, and their host.
Love_Monkey silently moved a chair to the other side of Lily, sat down, and smiled sheepishly as she gazed up at her. Lily smiled back at the girl, remarking to herself how volatile human children were. Back at the groksta, only an hour or two ago, the child had been furious, but her eyes now glistened with adoration.
Lyra felt completely disoriented. With her familiar gone, she felt as though a part of her mind was missing, the part that knew things. She had the unbearable urge to ask questions so she could fully establish her bearings. “Grandfather, about those creatures, the cullers, as you call them, are they-” Her sentence cut off as she nearly jumped from her chair. Six little girls, identical in all ways to Love_Monkey, entered the clearing. All wore the same clothing, differing only in the color of the bow fastened in their long, golden hair.
“They’re cloned!” Lyra gasped. “Grandfather, you cloned your children?”
“Please, just call me doctor,” the man insisted. “And no, cloning human beings is a sin. These are in the likeness of my children and I refer to them as my daughters, but their code is under the legal limit to be considered human; therefore, they are products. Products that I cloned.”
“You have children products? Why? No one creates products in the likeness of children.”
Djoser pinched Lyra under the table. Why is she interrogating him? Doesn’t she know who he is? he wondered.
The doctor curled his bulbous and crooked lips into what Djoser hoped was a smile. “Yes, Lyra. Although technically not a sin, creating immature products is not considered a best practice in my line of work.”
