was studying me with his camera.
“Is the appendage satisfactory?” he asked.
“Yes. Absolutely. Please transmit my thanks to the microbes for their efforts.”
Marvin whirred for a moment, using his Macro-salvaged legs to turn his body to face me. “That might be counterproductive.”
“What? Thanking them?”
“Yes. They might construe themselves as deserving of payment.”
“Well, they are deserving. They performed an amazing service.”
“My understanding of biotics is they operate best under duress. They will-”
“Look, Marvin,” I snapped, then stopped myself. I tried to stay calm. He had a very different way of thinking. I believed the heartlessness of machines was based in their inability to feel real pain or anguish. How could they hope to achieve empathy if they had never felt discomfort? I wished I could curse these machines with some pain circuitry. It would make them much easier to deal with.
“Marvin,” I said, starting again in a calm voice. “Let’s put these biotics in the bucket back into their tank at least.”
“Ah, an excellent suggestion!” Marvin said. He clanked forward and took the bucket up in his three-thumbed hand. It swung and creaked, the noisome liquid sloshing inside.
“Excellent?” I asked, suddenly suspicious. He’d never been excited about anything that I’d suggested to help the microbes before. “Why is it such a good idea?”
“Punishment in a less drastic form is always preferable. Also, they will naturally be plotting to counter our electrode. In time, they will minimize their dead due to its employ. Notice the membrane they’ve been building nearby, keeping their population away from the applicator? I’ve already been considering moving the electrode to the dorsal area of the tank to create maximal carnage.”
I shook my head. “Why is putting the bucket of microbes back into the tank a punishment?”
“Because the toxins will cause a die-off in that region.”
“What toxins?”
“By-products of the process. The microbes are not terrestrial. They have a different set of base proteins. The essence of any toxin is an alien protein.”
I stared at him as he carried the bucket around to the far side of the tank. There was a small, tubule there. He put the bucket down and lowered the tubule toward the liquid in the bucket.
“Hold on,” I said. “Are you telling me the stuff left over in the bucket will poison them? What about the microbes that did the work?”
“They are already dying. Their purpose has been served.”
I sighed and rubbed my head. I’d killed a billion sentient things to replace my foot. “Just go pour the bucket into the waste chute, Marvin,” I said.
“But-”
“Those are my instructions. I command this vessel.”
Marvin clanked away without another word. I left him with further instructions not to cause the prisoners any more harm. He seemed miffed, but did not argue.
Afterward, I hobbled down to the medical bricks. There were more of them set up now. We’d suffered a number of serious injuries. Sandra was still comatose. Kwon was missing two limbs. I had a hard decision to make. Were my friends worth a few billion microbes? It wouldn’t have even been a question, except they were sentient. It was one thing to eat a yogurt, knowing yeast had died en masse to satisfy your appetites. It would have been quite another to understand the yeast knew it was dying and could feel the pain of it. Worse, the yeast was thinking about you, plotting-possibly even reporting to a yeast fleet crewed by quadrillions of the vengeful critters. What kind of interworld polices was I setting up? How could I get all smart lifeforms to unite against the machines when I abused them freely for my own purposes? How was I better than the Macros, from their point of view?
I stared into Sandra’s coffin and steeled myself. I had to give it a try. I marched back up to the chamber.
Marvin swiveled and clanked away from the tank as I came in. Was that a guilty start?
“Where’s that bucket, Marvin?” I asked.
His short arm extended, pointing. It lay on its side. A few drops of oily black liquid had run out onto the floor.
I marched up and saw the tubule. “You put it into the system anyway, didn’t you?”
“No, not exactly,” Marvin said.
“What exactly did you do?” I asked, angry. I had my hand on my sidearm. I figured if I took out his legs, he’d be immobile and a lot less trouble.
“I let them sample the compound.”
“How much?” I asked.
He hesitated. “About ten percent.”
“What did I tell you to do, Marvin?”
“You told me to dump the sample.”
“Why did you disobey?”
“I was curious. If a small amount were introduced, possibly the microbes could adapt and thus produce a new generation that would be immune to your toxins.”
I stared at him, uncertain if I should blast him or not. I looked at the tank. A portion of it about the size of a throw-pillow looked gray. “It’s killing them, isn’t it?”
“A small percentage of them, yes. They are working on the problem.”
“You disobeyed my orders. You understand that I am in command of this ship, do you not?”
“Yes.”
“In the future, when you have a bright idea that is counter to my orders, you must get my approval.”
“Or what?”
I looked at him again. My hand was still on my laser pistol. He only had one small arm and didn’t look very dangerous. I let my hand slip away from my weapon. “Or you will face disassembly, Marvin.”
“That would be counterproductive.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “So don’t make me do it.”
Marvin turned toward the tank as if he had heard a phone ringing. “They say they are ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“They want to know if your foot has been repaired.”
“Tell them it has. Tell them I am highly satisfied.”
“Done. They are desperately pleased. They say the next generation will not expire so quickly, as they have become resistant to your toxins. They request a new task from the ship-master.”
I closed my eyes, feeling like an evil god. “I’ll get Kwon,” I said quietly.
Was using the microbes in this way worse than killing and eating the pig I used as a bas material? Yes, I had to say that it was. But I did it anyway. I couldn’t turn down such a miracle. Kwon soon had his two stumps soaking in tanks of rubberized plastic. His bones were already forming in there. I could see them through the cloudy liquid and the semi-transparent plastic bag. It looked like a thick skeleton strung with tiny sausages. I supposed the sausage-things would become his musculature after another hour or so.
The microbes worked even faster than the Nanos. Being chemical in nature, rather than electro-mechanical, they could do things my tiny robots just couldn’t manage. Life was, in the end, the more amazing form of existence. From a tiny seed a three hundred foot tall sequoia could grow. It just took a long time. The microbials grew at a rate that was much superior, being more on the plane of super-kudzu rather than a thousand-year-old tree.
I watched and I sweated. Kwon talked my ear off. He was very happy to get two new limbs. Lieutenant Marquis, who was still checking up on the big man regularly, came and whispered her thanks in my ear privately.
I nodded and gave her a tight smile. I wondered how many billions this would kill, and if she would even care if I told her. I decided not to. Why spoil her joy? I had made the decision, and I was the one that would have
