by B. V. Larson
“Uh, Major Welter?” I called. “What is that thing on your six?”
Welter came back with a crackling radio communication. “That’s a surprise, sir. Someone else survived that you had probably counted out. And he’s rebuilt himself. He must be a hundred feet long now.”
The words, what the hell? ran through my mind. I used my fingers to zoom in on the formation. “Are those some of our bricks in that mass?” I asked. “What do you make of that, Major Sarin?”
“It appears to be a chain of linked bricks, with several of our flying dishes attached for propulsion,” she said. “I’m at a loss to explain it.”
I stared, frowning in concern for several seconds until I knew what it had to be. When I had it, I wasn’t happy with what I was thinking.
“Patch me through to the broadcast channel again. Short-range.”
Major Sarin signaled me when she had it set up.
“Marvin, give me your position, please.”
“That is an imprecise statement. Please give me a relative point for frame of reference.”
I chuckled despite myself. “Just tell me what you are flying aboard my ship.”
“I’ve subsumed a large number of items from salvaged debris. That which is approaching your vessel is known as Marvin.”
“Sir, two of those bricks are factories,” Gorski whispered. His voice gave away his excitement.
“Marvin,” I said. “I thank you for retrieving these articles of equipment. They will be very useful to us. I’m not quite sure how you did it, but you’ve done us a great service.”
There was a momentary pause. “I am familiar with your salvage laws, Colonel Riggs. My new sub-system components were lost in unowned space, and are therefore the property of the finder.”
I stared at the conglomeration. I knew that I had built this intelligent machine—or at least allowed it to build itself. Was this how the Blues must have felt, at some critical moment in the past? Had they turned around one day and seen a Macro looming close to them? At this moment, I had a taste of what it must have felt like to be in their shoes. It wasn’t good.
“Yeah…” I said. “Okay Marvin. I’m coming down there. I think we’re going to have to have a little chat.”
-41-
Overall, the marines I’d left behind were in better shape than I had any right to expect them to be. Major Welter had not only survived by jettisoning himself from the conflict at the critical moment, he had organized the survivors. I had an interesting talk with him as he came aboard. I could tell right away Welter was proud of his accomplishments. He held his chin high and although he was tired, he was beaming at me.
“Survival often depends on quick reasoning,” he told me as I helped him through the airlocks.
“In your case luck didn’t hurt, either,” I said. I helped him hook his suit to the ship’s power lines and he began to quickly recharge.
“Luck?” he asked, scandalized. “Not so! We reasoned that your group may or may not win against the cruiser. We had to plan for the worst, namely that you would lose and not return. In that case, our only option was to assault the next ship that came through the ring and take it for our own.”
I nodded. “Mini-pirates, eh? Marvin helped gather the bricks I take it, to keep you going.”
“Yes. He got a hold of a flying dish, then a brick, and connected the together with nanite cables. Then he kept going, knitting up that train thing you saw out there. The weird thing was he insisted on building them into a nanite-conglomerate, all connected to himself. I had an idea of building a base—not making them all part of Marvin’s body.”
“He’s got a mind of his own,” I said. “Was he cooperative?”
“Sort of. He let us use the power and oxygen, but he started running the factories to produce more nanite arms and stuff on his own.”
I grabbed his arm. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me he’s been programming our factories on his own initiative?”
“Oh yeah. It’s kind of weird. He definitely has his own plans. He’s not an enemy, in my estimation. He’s more like a guest in our group. He helps and shares. But he doesn’t accept our authority over him. Anything I told him to do, he took as advice. It’s like he considered my orders to be suggestions, and then mulled over whether he felt like following them or not.”
I let go of him, and decided it was time to talk to Marvin directly. “Good insights, Major,” I said. “I’m going to go see what he’s up to. Please head up to the bridge and take over the helm as soon as you can, Gorski and I have been having a hell of a time with the Macro control system.”
“That system is quite a piece of work, isn’t it?” Gorski asked with a twisted smile. “I get cramps in my limbs just thinking about pressing everything at once. Did you know I had to tap with my head sometimes to get the sequence right?”
“I believe it,” I said, then left him. As soon as I was out of sight, I broke into a bouncing, low-gravity trot. By the time I’d reached the area I’d decided I needed to set up a squad of marines to help Marvin see things my way—if he wouldn’t listen to reason. I had to have those factories under my control. Next to the cruiser itself, they were the most valuable asset we had. They produced our weapons, supplies and repaired everything. Our survival depended on them. Marvin simply could not keep possession of them, not even for another hour.
The hole in the upper left quadrant of the cruiser had become our launch-bay. The cruiser had big missile ports, but we didn’t really know how to control them, so we used the yawning hole to do the job. The area was big: over a hundred feet wide and three times that in depth. We’d taken out partial walls, twisted tubing and the like to give us more space. As best we could tell, the Macros had kept their sensor arrays and their missile magazines here. Now, it was a twisted mass of slag. The hole in the nose functioned like a big window, affording a view of orangey-brown Helios itself and occasionally the glaring rim of that giant, red sun.
The launch bay swarmed with marines, most of them survivors of Welter’s short-lived pirate campaign. The rest were my people, helping organize the mass of equipment and manpower that streamed in. At the center of things was the junkpile known as Marvin. He didn’t look anything like his old self. He’d started off as a brainbox with legs, and now he was something like a scrap metal dragon—or maybe a flying freight train built in a junkyard. The core of his body consisted of three of my bricks. Two of those were my factories, I knew. They were chained together with nanite cables, as had been all of Marvin’s incarnations. The flying dishes my men had used as individual assault vehicles had been cunningly placed at every corner and angle of the three brick train to provide propulsion. There were at least a dozen of the dishes canted at various angles. Nanite arms controlled each of them individually. I could see how they would all point at one time to provide a lot of power. Despite myself, I was intrigued by the design. It was ingenious.
I signaled Warrant Officer Sloan. He was always hanging around the launch bay, even though we didn’t have any tanks left for him to pilot. He’d recovered from exposure in space at the ring, and I knew he wouldn’t mind having something to do. I had him gather a squad, told him to arm themselves heavily and to stand by in the corridors outside the launch bay.
When Sloan had his crew set up, I approached Marvin slowly, warily. I noted most of my men were keeping their distance from him. He hovered a few feet above the deck. No one tried to take away any of the pieces he’d purloined.
I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to order him to land and have my marines begin stripping him down. But I forced myself into a welcoming frame of mind. Sometimes, a kind word could make difficult events glide by.
“Welcome home, Marvin!” I said, walking up to the front section. I didn’t see his brainbox or his camera.
I didn’t get any response, so I walked calmly along the length of the structure. Nanite-controlled propulsion dishes twitched as I came near. I gazed up and down, then along the length of him. Then I saw it. A s
mall camera, lifted up over the rest. It was between the second and third bricks in the structure. I snorted and walked toward it at an even pace.
“There you are,” I said. “It’s good to see you, and we owe you our thanks for helping out.”
The camera lowered until it was barely peeping out from between the bricks. As I continued approaching, Marvin must have realized I’d spotted his single eye and the camera rose higher. It tilted and focused, tracking me.
“This visual input device is damaged,” Marvin complained.
I snorted. His personality hadn’t changed, just his structure. Thinking back, I realized that none of my statements of friendly greeting had really required a response. I had given no commands, made no requests and asked no questions. So Marvin hadn’t said anything. Now apparently, he identified me with serving a need of his, so he was talking.
“Let’s talk about that, Marvin,” I said. “I can provide you with a brand new, undamaged visual unit. In fact, I’d like to give you two of them so you can see in stereo and get a better perception of depth.”
The camera twitched, sliding to one side, perhaps to get a different perspective on me. “My sensor array includes scanners with multiple inputs. My regional spatial projections are more accurate—”
“Yes, yes,” I said, putting up a gloved hand. “I know you can perceive a three dimensional environment. But those are active systems. The cameras are passive systems. Wouldn’t it be nice to observe without having to send out any telltale emissions?”
Marvin thought this one over for awhile. I was working on his paranoia. If Marvin had one weakness, it was his slightly fearful nature. He wasn’t like the Macros or the herds of Centauri that way—he always looked out for number one. A passive system of sensory input was very important in any hostile environment. Space warfare was comparable to submarine warfare, and while active sonar was effective, passive systems were always preferable if you were trying to hide. Active detection systems such as radar or sonar operated by transmitting signals out and analyzing the signal that bounced back. The problem with such systems came when someone else was listening to your active pinging. They could then pinpoint your location with precision. Passive systems were more like human senses such as hearing. They did not give away the listener.
“I would like to have multiple cameras,” Marvin said at last, taking the bait.
“Great. Let’s make a deal then, Marvin. I’ll provide you with two—no, make that four new cameras. That way you can look in every direction at once. I know they have a limited field of vision, you’ve complained about that before. No more worrying about what is approaching from behind. I think it is an ample reward for the retrieval and return of our equipment.”
“I have not returned your equipment,” Marvin pointed out.
“The cameras will be provided the moment you do,” I said. “And I think you should be able to keep a piece of that junk you assembled. How about one of those dishes to provide you with mobility and flight? You can sit your brainbox in the dish and keep a few nanite arms for manipulation of objects and cameras.”
Marvin hesitated. “The collective mass of the equipment you list is far less than that which I possess now.”
I pursed my lips in annoyance. I wanted to shout at him even more now than when I’d first seen him. I wanted to order him to let go of my stuff, and get back to the lab. He reminded me of a child in some ways—a dangerous, alien child. It was my turn to pause, thinking of different ways to manipulate him. I could threaten, or force him to comply. He didn’t have any armament on his flying junk pile that I could see. We could shoot him down if we had to. But what would that teach him? To arm himself next time? I could imprison him, I supposed. Stripping him down to a single thin arm with a camera and some audio I/O would do it. He’d be down to talking then. But these were last resorts. I didn’t want to make a hostile out of Marvin. He had a wealth of information inside that brainbox of his and I had to get out everything I could.
At last, I figured I had an angle on the problem. “Marvin, do you enjoy exploring ships?”
“Yes.”
“This is a new ship, with new chambers you’ve never seen. Remember the laboratory on Jolly Rodger? Remember the microbials?”
“Yes.”
“There are different discoveries to be made on this ship.”
“What discoveries?”
I laughed. “If I knew, they would have already been discovered. Who knows? Mysteries are here. New things none of us have ever seen. Would you like to find them?”
“Yes.”
“Well then,” I said. “Take my offer for a reward, and get yourself down to a size that will allow you to explore every inch of this ship. If you keep the bricks, you will have to sit here in the hold alone and you won’t get to see anything.”
Marvin was quiet for a while. “I will take your offer,” he said at last.
I waved back Warrant Officer Sloan’s the assault squad. They had been very ready to take down Marvin. They’d been waiting in the corridors quietly while we had our little chat. I sent them out to find me four undamaged cameras instead. The baffled look on Sloan’s face was priceless.
-42-
I headed back toward the bridge, but didn’t make it half-way before I heard someone behind me. I turned sharply, and blinked in surprise. It was Sandra.
“Where’d you come from?” I asked.
“What’s this?” she asked. She held up something in front of my faceplate.
I took it from her and examined it. “Ning’s ID card? Where did you get that?”
She stared at me, and looked sick. Her mouth was open, her eyes stared into the distance. “Who’s Ning?” she asked.
“A med tech. I left her in charge of your coffin—ah your medical pod.”
“You were right the first time,” she said. “It was a coffin.”
“What are you talking about? Where is Ning?”
Sandra looked at me strangely. She came closer and hugged me. I thought she might cry. I lifted my arms, but didn’t quite dare to hug her back at first. I didn’t want to mess this up somehow.
“What’s wrong?” I asked in a soft voice.
“Just tell me how you left me. Tell me why I’m alive again.”
I opened my mouth and closed it again. Things had been so wild for so long I’d never had time to tell her about the biotic soup I’d bathed her in to rejuvenate her. I gently put my arms around her, but was careful not to get too friendly. I organized my thoughts, knowing I had to tell her how things went in the most positive way possible.
“You were in that box for a long time,” I said. “It really upset me. I visited you all the time, tried to come up with solutions. The nanites had kept you alive, but you were too far gone from vacuum exposure to recover. You were in an indefinite coma.”
“Did you think about unplugging me?” she asked, lifting her head. Before I could answer, she buried her face against my breastplate. “Don’t tell me about that. Just tell me how you did it.”
“Well, I didn’t think there was a way. But I didn’t give up. Over time I learned about this new microbial species aboard Jolly Rodger, in the Macro labs.”
“Species?”
“Remember the black goo you had all over you when you awakened?” I asked.
“Vaguely.”
“That was them—or their byproducts. They were in a big tank like a bag…anyway, they all died aboard Jolly Rodger. Just before the ship blew up, I had you in a tank of these tiny creatures, and got them to rebuild your damaged cells. They could do things that nanites couldn’t do, because they were organic themselves. You owe them your life.”
“You got them to do it?” she asked. “You mean you talked to them? They are intelligent?”
“Yes, with a mass-intellect similar to the nanites.”
“How did you communicate with beings like that?”
“Through Marvin. He could talk to them.”
Sandra pulled away from me an
d took Ning’s ID card. She stood a few steps away rubbing her own shoulder with the card.
“Tell me, Kyle,” she said. “How did the microbes do it?”
“They needed a source of protein for raw materials. Then they broke that down and regrew it as the target form. You see my right foot? It used to be a pork chop, believe it or not.”
She dipped her head down and shivered slightly. I stepped closer, wondering if I’d blown it somehow.
“You asked me where Ning went,” she said, “well, I think you are looking at her.”
“What?” I said. Then I got it, and almost laughed. “No, no. I don’t think so. Ning is missing, but so are a lot of people. She was killed in the battle.”
“No,” Sandra said. “I found her. More than just that ID card. She was in coffin. I went back to it and dug around in the slime. There are bones in that sludge. And hair, zippers. The ID card was there too. The microbes ate her to rebuild me. And I don’t even remember her.”
I stared at her, feeling some of her horror. I was one thing to be partly made of a pork chop. After all, everyone is built from the materials they consume. But another person…. Usually, I had something to say in every situation. Not this time.
Sandra caught me looking at her that way, and she let a few tears run down her cheek. “I’m a monster,” she said. “A cannibal. You should have just let me die then spaced the remains. That’s the best way. Couldn’t you have left me in peace? You shouldn’t have done it, Kyle. My life wasn’t worth someone else’s.”
“Done what?” I asked.
She stepped closer. “I should have known it was you. I’ve owed you for a long time, Kyle. You came back for me the first time I was dead in that cold ocean. You fished me out and brought me back to life. I’m a ghost twice over now, but this time the price was too high. You shouldn’t have done it.”
“Done what?”
She stepped closer and hissed her words up at me. “You shouldn’t have killed Ning and shoved her into that box.”
