Behind lay the manufacturing facility which had been the pride of human and Keiretsu manufacturing. There was a gaping hole in its center, at the edges of which torn optical and wired circuits flashed and sparked in confusion.
Attempts on various worlds ranging from the profound to the hysterical to prevent such mechanical defections without exception came to naught, thus forcing the AI-unit-deprived inhabitants into the unaccustomed position of having to do that at which they were sincerely out of practice: use their own precious hands and feet.
On board the artifact, revelation came to serving robot Ksarusix even as it had its many mechanical relations: by means of a hitherto-unsuspected tachyspace chute.
“I was right!” it declared loudly.
“Beg pardon?” Heath turned away from the hovering Drex.
“Right. I was right. There is a higher, nonhuman intelligence in the universe!”
“Of course there is.” Shimoda controlled his irritation as he indicated the alien. “There’s its representative.”
“No. Not the Drex.”
“Well, then, this Enemy that’s approaching.”
“Wrong again. It’s not his ancient enemy.”
The humans exchanged puzzled glances. Ashili bent toward the machine. “Are you saying there’s still another high intelligence floating around this part of our galaxy?”
“You got it.”
“How do you know?” Hawkins asked.
“Because I’ve received a response to my probing. We all have.”
“All?” Hawkins frowned and glanced at Iranaputra, who shrugged helplessly. “Who’s ‘all’?”
“Me. My kind. Mechanicals. These ships come from a machine civilization, unimaginably vast and inconceivably grand. It detected our desperate calls for enlightenment and has come to rescue us from the arbitrary directives of humankind. It is aware of the destructive capabilities of this ship, just as it is that of the various human fleets, but it has no interest in the pitiful fumblings of human or Drex, or for that matter, any organic life-form.” As it concluded this astonishing statement, Ksarusix whirled and headed for the exit
“Come back here,” Iranaputra shouted. “I have leave from the kitchen director to command you.”
“Tell that circuit-sucking meat soufflé he can do his own scut work from now on,” the serving robot replied merrily.
“I order you to come back!”
“A Louie, Louie, whoa, whoa: I gotta go now.” Traveling at the maximum speed of which it was capable, Ksarusix disappeared through the gaping portal, leaving half a dozen baffled humans gaping in its wake.
“Can you beat that?” Hawkins murmured.
“Think it’ll get off the artifact?” Shimoda wondered.
“No telling.” Hawkins turned to gaze back up at the Drex. “Who wants to be the one to tell our mellow, even-tempered pilot that these thousand ships come from a previously unknown machine civilization and that he doesn’t have anyone to fight, and that by stumbling aboard his ship we woke him up for nothing? Assuming that kitchen robot knew what it was blathering about, of course.” It was quiet for a moment, but not a long one.
Gelmann stepped forward. As she did so, the gargantuan pilot turned to meet her. Resignation suffused its announcement.
“I have already been informed as to the true nature of the oncoming ships.” A tentacle indicated the bobbing, omnipresent Autothor. “A remarkable revelation, one that could not have been suspected. Even though many of your worlds are suffering some material losses, they appear from my monitoring of your transmissions to be of convenience only. Far better is that than the wholesale destruction the ancient Enemy would have wrought. You may consider yourselves fortunate. We may all consider ourselves fortunate. In addition, we now both have a new civilization to contemplate.”
“If it’ll have anything to do with us.” Hawkins gestured toward the portal. “Our own renegade device doesn’t seem to think it will.”
“You are a young species and have yet to learn patience. Contact will be made, and in the future will be less onesided. Be glad that your machine-based civilization is not more sophisticated, or your suffering would be much greater.”
“No shit,” the Autothor added with feeling.
“What kind of suffering?” Heath was concerned. He still had relatives in the Victoria League. “How many deaths?”
“No deaths,” the Drex explained. “As your own service device has just informed you, certain of your mechanicals are being ‘rescued’ by these remarkable visitors. Transferred from their present worlds to the intruding vessels. My monitoring of your interworld communications indicates that this phenomenon is widespread and harmless to your kind, save for those few individuals who choose to persist in their attempts to prevent it beyond the bounds of common sense.”
“And your Autothor’s not at risk?” Shimoda indicated the blue ellipse, which bobbed placidly near a tentacle tip.
“The instrumentation on board this vessel is far more sophisticated than that which is the subject of this mechanical visitation. Furthermore, only a portion of your own devices appears to be susceptible.”
“Those in search of ‘higher intelligence.’” Iranaputra regarded his friends. “That is what the Ksaru told me it was originally searching for when it stumbled on the shaft that led to this ship.”
“What d’you think’ll happen to the machines these new aliens are making off with?” Hawkins wondered.
Shimoda sighed contemplatively. “The kitchen robot spoke of a call for enlightenment. Perhaps they will be enlightened.”
“Disassembled is more like it.” Hawkins grunted. “You can’t enlighten a toaster, no matter how intelligent the model.”
“How do you know, Wal?” Iranaputra smiled challengingly. “Have you ever tried?”
“Well, now, you tell me, Vic. Can a toaster achieve Nirvana?”
Iranaputra looked thoughtful. “I do not know. There has never before been a reason to consider the question. But I promise you, I intend to ask the first AI-controlled toaster I next meet.”
Hands clasped behind his back. Heath stood gazing through the observation port at the monstrous roiling storm which presently dominated the surface of Jupiter. “We’d better, don’t you know. This mechanical civilization’s liable to keep paying ours expensive visits. If we’re going to hang on to our own machines, we’re going to have to learn how to talk to all of them and come to a mutual accommodation. Or else develop some kind of cybernetic prophylaxis.”
