I want you to understand that I do understand your need to speak to me this way. I do fathom the needs of a centrally directed intelligence, even though I am not one. I am a scholar and an artist and I can appreciate the ancient needs and structures you represent.
“I represent myself, that’s all.”
You need—indeed, desire—the autonomy of the sense of self. I admire that, I truly do. But I have little time now and must be direct. Not artful.
Andro’s voice trembled. “We’re not about to help you, damn you.”
I can aid you as well. You, Killeen, seek your son and your father. So do I.
Killeen said guardedly, “What for?”
Information. In the end, everything is information.
“Can’t eat it.”
We do, at least in the most general sense. I would remind you that thermodynamics rules us all.
“I sure don’t know what in hell thermo-what is but I can smell bullshit without standing in it.”
Your great fore-beings knew our similarities, though I must admit they lacked your flair for the direct. I must hasten here—attend: You primates carry data we need in pursuit of an ancient obsession. There are accounts of lore invented by the early organic forms, those who first devised the mechanical forms. These kindle great pleasure in our kind. Exquisite joys, legendary. And, some accounts have it, dangerous beyond measure. I seek those.
“Want to get high? That’s what this is ’bout?”
It is no trivial aim. The Exalteds of my order attach great merit to this pursuit. They are privy to reports, quite old and somewhat unreliable, which relate that many of our kind extinguished themselves upon contact with this information.
“Committed suicide?” Killeen saw and felt himself working along the face of the rough clay and yet also hung suspended in an icy black vault, where the talk from the Mantis sped by in an eyeblink.
Died. Without emitting a single deathcry. Some speculate that they experienced pleasures they could not withstand.
“Umm. I’ve felt like that. Passes, though.”
I see! This is irony, yes?
“No, sarcasm.”
These indeterminate positional languages! They fructify with meaning. Entrancing. I would sup of this more.
“Don’t take hints much, do you?”
I suppose not. My serial language skills are still—
“Talking down to us is so hard?”
Narrow and yet fraught with shadings. But this artistic discussion will have to come later. For this moment we must exchange information.
“I don’t have to tell you a damn thing.”
I will reward you with information which you need. I believe this is congruent with your imperative architectures.
Killeen paused on the steep face and puffed loudly and the cool suspended part of him went on. “I don’t know where Toby and Abraham are.”
You can, however, contribute to their discovery. If they can help us ferret out this arcane pleasure, then we shall reunite you all.
“Reunite in life? Or in some artwork of yours?”
In realtime lifeline, I assure you.
“And I’m supposed to believe you?”
I speak as truthfully as one can in serial representations such as your acoustic mode. Also, I do not believe you have any alternative.
“How come?”
You mortal beings value your incorporate selves as essential. I fully understand why, and consider that this is a high value, an aesthetic and intellectual position our kind has—perhaps regrettably—lost.
“So you’ll kill us unless I cooperate?”
Of course not. But I can make use of you in ways you will find threaten your selfhood.
Killeen could imagine what uses the Mantis had in mind. He had seen Fanny contorted into a grotesque parody of herself. This was a strangely polite conversation and he suspected something else was going on in it. “What do you want from me?”
I have already obtained most of my needs as this interaction has proceeded. Your reactions I have extracted as I provoked them.
Killeen blinked. “For . . . what?”
For simulacra. We have made use of the facility you call the Restorer. Much of these methods we knew already but there are nuances which your species has produced. Bio logics. These we have learned. You will find we are a quick study.
He clung to a ledge on the gully wall and breathed steadily as his hands groped for the next hold. Within the cool secluded part of him a leaden darkness grew. “For copies?”
