A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [67]
Jorax and the other two robots buzzed back and forth in quick bursts of coded language. One of the new robots said, “That would make us vulnerable, should your soldiers and guards choose to dissect us as well.”
Peter couldn’t feel sorry for them. “Consider it a gesture of mutual trust. Those are our terms for allowing you to participate.”
Finally, the two insectile machines responded in unison. “We agree to the terms.” They stood like metallic statues, then sagged slightly. “All defensive systems have now been shut down.”
“We have only your word for that,” Peter said.
“Therefore a reciprocal gesture of trust is required.” The robots moved forward, and Peter decided not to stop them. He watched the proceedings, uneasy but curious.
With imagers and sonic probes, the researchers scanned every cranny of Jorax’s mechanical body using nondestructive evaluation techniques. Never before had they been able to make even a complete external assessment of the alien machines.
Jabbering excitedly, the team took an hour just to finish their visual inspection and documentation. The scientists were intrigued, but King Peter felt a knot of tension in his chest. He disliked the conditions of the experiment, the sacrifice of the robot, the conveniently unexpected arrival of two other machines. What do they really want?
Sounding like a warmhearted schoolteacher, the lead cyberneticist said from the analysis theater, “It’s time to move on to the next phase. Jorax, is there a way you can provide access, or do we need to cut through your exoskeleton?”
With a startling snap and a hiss, tiny cracks like the segments of a pill bug appeared in Jorax’s chest plate. They slid open far enough to expose inner circuitry, glossy metal, and smooth fiberoptics that throbbed like phosphorescent nematodes.
“Look! This is a completely different command train from what we use in our compies,” the lead cyberneticist said, blinking up at the observation gallery as if remembering his audience above.
The robotics researchers took up curved tools, which, despite their high-tech appearance, King Peter recognized as nothing more than fancy pry bars. While the other Klikiss robots loomed close, the Hansa team pulled Jorax’s outer segments open farther, exposing vulnerable interior components. Lights glowed as if the thin flexible fibers contained nuclear fire.
“I would prefer to deactivate my systems and nullify my sensors, but if I did, you would receive less benefit from your investigations.” Jorax’s buzzing voice rose to a thinner whine. “Therefore, I will remain conscious through each step, until my mind’s subsystems no longer function.”
“He’s very brave,” Palawu whispered.
Peter clenched the arms of his chair.
The two Klikiss observer robots moved forward silently, startling the scientists, but the hulking machines seemed to know what they were doing. They opened ports in Jorax’s ellipsoidal core and manually extended his eight segmented limbs, each one with attachments for grasping, cutting, or manipulating. With brisk movements, the Klikiss robots amputated the mechanical limbs and handed them to the human engineers. Even the segmented arms and legs would be studied for possible ways to improve straightforward mechanical systems.
One of the cyberneticists probed deep into the artificial internal organs. “I can already see how this will benefit our work.”
Lights flashed on the dismantling table, and the sensors on Jorax’s head plate blazed brighter as if in the equivalent of a scream. “There is nothing to fear,” Jorax said. “There is nothing to fear.”
Peter wondered if the sacrificial robot was trying to reassure the humans or convince himself.
The dissection and analysis continued throughout the morning. At each new discovery inside Jorax’s body, both Swendsen and Palawu rhapsodized about its potential uses, trying to impress the King.
“It’ll take us a month to get a handle on the dataflow processing alone, Sire, but, just as