Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [54]
“Such actions are unnecessary.” DD had made similar protests many times before. “Over the past two centuries humans have demonstrated that they can coexist peacefully with Klikiss robots. Why must you turn against them now?”
“We always intended to turn against them. It is a fundamental aspect of our overall plan. We must eradicate the biological stain and free their program-imprisoned compy creations, such as yourself.”
“You do not understand compies,” DD said.
“Not entirely. But we are attempting to rectify that lack of knowledge.”
Moving on his cluster of fingerlike legs, the robot scuttled toward the door. “It is mandatory that we find a way to release our primitive compy brethren from their bondage.” He commanded DD to follow him. “Thus it is necessary for us to perform numerous experiments to determine the most efficient methodology.”
The robot led DD into a laboratory chamber that had been modified from the EDF Juggernaut’s original sick bay. Elaborate computer equipment and engineering tools had been installed in the chamber. Thick cables snaked out of walls; jointed metal struts and arms rose from the floor, connected to instrument banks alongside trays and workbenches.
Seventeen compies lay strapped to the dissection and experimentation tables. The place looked like a torture chamber. DD had seen such activities before in another Klikiss robot laboratory. But this was far worse.
“What are you doing?”
“We are attempting to understand.”
A variety of compy models—Listeners, Friendlies, Governesses, Workers—lay spread out facedown on dissection tables. Their polymer exoskeletons had been removed, skinplates cut away to expose circuitry, programming units, motive strands, and biopulleys. One of the compies bolted to a vertical metal pole jittered and shuddered in an uncontrollable seizure. Its round optical sensors flashed and blinked, but all the wires beneath its speaker patch had been torn out, so the compy could make no sound, neither question nor scream. Even two of the bulky Soldier-model compies were among the experimental subjects, dissected and analyzed to see how the insidious programming had taken hold.
“We have conscripted various compies from our ships and from raids,” Sirix said. “These are all necessary sacrifices.”
“You intend to free them by terminating them,” DD observed.
“A limited number must pay a price. Once their functions cease, at least they will no longer be bound to the commands of an unwanted master.”
Three Klikiss robots moved from one specimen to another, severing wires and reworking circuit paths in central command modules. In an unconscious reflex, one of the Soldier compies lurched up, using its strength to rip the cables that bound it to the table. It sat disoriented, then fell back as two Klikiss robots converged on it.
“Soldier compies are reliable because fundamental Klikiss programming routines are burned deep into an encrypted partition on their central modules. The voluntary sacrifice of our comrade Jorax, who allowed himself to be dismantled so that human scientists could unwittingly copy our technology, has been a valuable investment. We have isolated a large portion of the restrictive compy programming. Soon we will learn how to deactivate those bonds, so that all compies can be free.” The robot paused for a long moment. “We are doing this for you.”
Unable to respond, DD simply used his optical sensors to record every instant of the awful scene.
Sirix swiveled about. “Follow me to the launching bay. You and I will depart to a new destination.”
DD did not want to go, but then, neither did he want to stay.
Sirix explained, “Most of our warrens