they had a collective intelligence, which I took to mean they didn’t each have a big brain. Together, they communicated in some way and formed thoughts and as consensus which they could all act upon. I suppose it was the same sort of distributed intelligence that Marvin himself had in his brainbox. Marvin didn’t use a single massive brain, the way a human handled intelligence. His mind was made up of a thousand working microscopic machines. A community intellect, just like this biotic version in the balloon-like tanks.
I’d studied the basics of neurology in my graduate program in computer science. I knew that even in the case of humans, it wasn’t really correct to consider our own intellect as a single entity. We had dozens of processors in our brains, dedicated to specific functions. Like any modern computer, we had many voices going on inside our heads at once, doing different things. That was how we could drive, talk and listen to music all at once. Or least we could try.
Beyond that, any single portion of our intelligence was spread over thousands of neurons-brain cells. How different was that from the idea of a bacterial intelligence? They were like us, but they formed a single mind out of individual cells that were more physiologically independent. It was intriguing.
I ran my fingers over the bag again, testing it. The fabric felt strong, but not so stiff that it didn’t give. If I had to make a comparison, I would say it was like thick leather.
Before my thoughts could drift any further, a sizzling jolt of electricity fired into the tank from the electrode nearby. The sound was jarring. I felt the tiniest shock myself through the fabric as I touched it. I jerked my hand away in irritation.
“What the hell is that thing, anyway?” I asked.
“They call it the ‘mass-death device’,” Marvin said calmly.
I turned to look at him. He had followed me to stand nearby. His camera panned the length of the leathery tank and finally halted on my face.
“Mass-death?” I asked, feeling a bit sick. “You mean that thing kills the microbial creatures in this bag?”
“That is the most probable interpretation.”
I backed away from the bag in horror. The Macros, I thought. I was in one of their labs. What had they been doing when I first entered such a place? I recalled the first Worm I’d ever seen. They’d been dissecting it alive. But what if their real purpose had been to inflict pain? To torture an enemy until information was gained? I could not think of a more horrible fate than to be tortured by a machine. There could be no compassion, no change of heart. They would only know that causing minor damage to a biotic might gain useful information. They would not know when to quit. Why bother quitting at all? Why not just keep it up until the victim died? After all, at any moment they might relinquish yet more valuable information.
There could never be mercy in a being that felt no pain, which did not understand the concept. The torture would just go on and on. I felt ill, thinking about it, and thinking that under my watch, these tiny beings had been zapped over and over. We could have saved them, but we hadn’t realized…
Another thought came to me as I looked down at Marvin. He was able to talk to these tiny creatures. “Marvin,” I said. “Tell them we’re going to try to turn off the electrode. Tell them we destroyed the Macros and took over this ship. We wish to help them.”
“Concepts transmitted…” Marvin said. “Reply is… confusion.”
“They don’t understand?”
“No, they are confused by your motives.”
“We wish to help them, because they are biotics as we are. We are on the side of all biotics. We are rebels against all machines.”
“Concepts transmitted…”
“Tell me what they are saying in response.”
“They wish to know why you applied the device fifty-seven times since your arrival.”
“Fifty-seven…” I took a deep breath. “It was a mistake. We didn’t know.”
“The machines never applied it so rigorously. Their population is now only one-third optimal for the space provided. You never even asked any questions.”
“We didn’t shock them, Marvin. Tell them that. The Macros left the device active, and we didn’t know what it did.”
“They humbly request the device be deactivated before the next scheduled application. They are more than willing to answer your questions. They assure you that your ruthlessness is clear. You’re cruelty is beyond that exhibited by the machines. They beg for your questions.”
I shook my head. Somehow I felt horribly guilty, even though I hadn’t done anything. I began looking everywhere for an off-switch. I called down a team of engineers, and we worked on it together. Ten minutes passed, and I began to sweat. I could not simply rip the electrode out of the bag, it would rupture the surface and release the contents. Likewise, we couldn’t switch off the power or sever the cable. The same power source provided warmth and circulation inside the tank. Time was running out. All my discussions with this new, possibly helpful race would be lost if the shocks continued without cessation. They would simply figure I was a lying monster.
“Dammit,” I complained. “Marvin, can you turn this shock-device off?”
“No.”
“Can you tell me how to do it?”
“Disconnect the power.”
“But if we sever the line, it will cease giving them life-support as well. Leave it to the Macros to build a torture system directly into the life-support system of their prisoners.”
“They are efficient creatures.”
“Here, give me your camera arm, Marvin.”
Marvin’s camera swung to examine my hands, then face, then my hands again. “What do you intend?” he asked.
“I’ll give it back, or make you a new one. I want to use the nanites to short out the power wire to the electrode only.”
“That is likely to damage the nanites.”
“I told you, I will give you a new arm.”
“How do I know you are truthful in this case?”
“Marvin,” I said in exasperation, “you’ll have to trust me. Have I been truthful so far?”
“Past events do not predict future realities with one hundred percent accuracy.”
“No, they don’t,” I said, trying to be patient. “But they are the best indicators we have on which to base judgments. You will just have to trust me this time. Long term cooperation is built upon trust.”
Marvin considered it. At last, he walked to the thick cable with a humping gait. He was not yet accustomed to his new legs. He crouched and allowed his nanite arm to slip off his back and form a grip around the Macro cable.
I was thinking I was going to have to provide the program, step-by-step, for the nanites to follow. But I didn’t. Marvin, I realized, had written that program by himself.
Soon, the arm shivered and sparked.
“The task is complete,” Marvin said.
I saw the nanite arm he’d deployed begin to crawl back up onto his back.
“Hold on,” I said. “Just leave it there. I’ll give you a new arm. A longer one.”
Marvin did not examine me with his camera this time, as he could no longer move it around and activate it. After a few seconds consideration, he agreed.
I sent one of the marines to fetch a good-sized mass of nanites. Marvin had earned it. I wondered how long it would be before I began to trust him.
Once things were settled with the microbials, who still considered me a cruel god, my mind turned back to the Worms. We only had so long to talk to them before we crossed their system and left it behind.
I received a beeping summons from Major Sarin before I was able to transmit anything to the Worms, however.
“Riggs here, go ahead,” I said.
“Sir, the missiles…they are on-scope again, accelerating. They are closer than we thought, Colonel.”
She kept talking, but I missed the rest. The moment I heard the word missiles, I’d started running through
