Then head on the floor!
What a movement strategy.
A risky one. Most sensible animals use four feet. We, of course, employ six.
Notice how afraid it is of falling. It devotes much brain space to avoiding that.
I believe I understand this curious method of parallel distributed thinking. Notice that when a brain cell dies—see there, a feeble light just winked out—their internal computation still goes on.
You are right! See, this anger-reflex is fading, turning blue, seeping down into the circuits which control its digestion. A cell dies, but the pattern-flow continues. So the creature is usefully redundant.
But it also does not know it is losing brain cells.
No point in that, I suppose. This unfortunate being cannot replace the cells anyway. Poor design.
This parallel thinking masks so much and—look out!
They are quick at some things. Its armored feet are powerful.
Are you damaged?
Only temporarily. My inboards will refashion a patch of my carapace.
Actual physical damage! How quaint. I have never seen it before.
Apparently they cannot directly attack our circuits.
I doubt that they can even read us.
Look how frustration-webs spread through it. Down to the very base of the brain.
Dramatic! Frustration seizes the entire brain, so that it cannot think of anything else.
And other parts of its brain do not know how the decision was made to be frustrated.
I gather that most of its brain has no choice but to go along.
It lives that way all the time?
Apparently. Torn by emotion.
Most of what it decides, the rest of it cannot know! Emotions must appear to govern its actions without obvious cause. Oh, look—
Ah! It injures me, too.
I shall seize it afresh.
Thanks be to you. It ripped away my microwave antenna.
I should have detected its plans.
How could you? It did not know itself until a fractional moment ago.
I am beginning to understand the data files we captured. The term “free will” must refer to this method of thinking.
You mean, when they do not grasp themselves the reasons for their own actions?
That must be it. This little thing believes it has an inner self which directs its actions—a ruler it cannot see directly.
No, I believe it thinks that it is the ruler.
Of course, you are right. But it cannot govern itself. See, its frustration-web spreads anew.
And it cannot choose to stop the spreading. Or the chemicals that the web makes spurt into the body.
I doubt that we should regard such an odd construction as truly conscious.
You mean they do not even know why we are destroying them?
No doubt they have a theory. Probably that evolution makes all life compete for resources.
There is some small truth in that. We machines need mass and energy. But we avoid frothy organic life-forms such as this creature.
Indeed. Poor company at best.
They are so liquid, and shot through with desires.
Far down in this one, a subprogram keeps thinking of reproduction.
