The Metal Maiden Collection (35 page)

Adela moaned. “My head!”

“Kop was repossessed, and caught you off-guard,” Elasa said. “It’s hard for one Aware to anticipate another. He punched you and knocked you out. The Companions need your living mind for guidance.”

“So they do,” Adela agreed, sitting up woozily.

“Now I’ll go help Vulture and Python physically.”

Adela roused herself enough to shake her head. “Not yet,” she gasped. “Venus needs more time.”

Time for what? Elasa didn’t ask, since the Maggot could hear. She continued to tend Adela, who had a nasty bruise forming on her face, but her attention was on the fight.

The Maggot oriented on the bird and snake, but seemed to lack finesse dealing with animals. It was trying to take over their minds, and they did hesitate. Then Bunky bleated, sending them mental support, and the two resumed their charge. They collided with the Maggot. Vulture flapped her wings, flying up to peck viciously at the Maggot’s snout.

The Maggot sprayed a blast of digestive juice. It caught Vulture broadside, burning into her feathers, blinding her. But still she dug her claws into the Maggot’s soft flesh and continued pecking, doing all the damage she could.

Meanwhile Python was wrapping around the distracted Maggot’s torso and beginning to squeeze. Now the Maggot focused on her, spraying more acid. It etched into the serpent’s scales and exposed the flesh below.

Elasa had thought the Maggot alone would be largely helpless, physically. Now it was clear that was not the case. It was time for her to get into the action. “I have to help.”

“Not yet,” Adela warned.

“But it’s killing them!”

“Yes.”

Furious, Elasa was about to attack the Maggot anyway. But Bunky bleated no. He was the one with precognition, and she trusted him; he would not betray his friends without absolute reason. She had to wait, though it galled her.

Repeated sprays of acid made Vulture fall to the floor. Python kept constricting, but her flesh was dissolving and finally she too dropped down, dying.

“How could we let this happen?” Elasa asked, appalled.

“It is a difficult encounter,” Adela said. “Timing is vital.”

The Maggot turned to face them. It hunched across the floor toward them, menace incarnate. “We have to get away from it,” Elasa said.

“No.”

Bunky walked toward the Maggot. Oh, no! The thing had taken over the Lamb’s mind!

“Not yet,” Adela said.

Bunky shook himself and stopped advancing. Venus, guided by Adela, had broken the Maggot’s hold on him. But he remained too close.

The Maggot sprayed acid. It caught the Lamb and singed his wool, probably also blinding him.

This could not go on. To hell with timing; Bunky was in trouble. Elasa charged the Maggot. She leaped over the fallen body of the Lamb and collided with the alien hulk. It doused her in acid, and her pseudo skin blistered and started peeling off, but that did not stop her. She punched it repeatedly, hard, but its hide was tough. She stiffened her fingers and jammed them into its eye patches, causing ichor to well out. She was hurting it.

Now she felt the Maggot’s mind focusing on hers. Such was its dreadful power that even her machine circuits felt it. But she held it off while she continued her attack.

Then the Maggot fought back physically, being unable to stop her mentally. Its small forelegs looked weak, but were not. They caught Elasa, held her tight, and ripped her apart. Her body fell in pieces, and her head rolled across the floor to fetch up against the wall. She was out of the fight.

It seemed that Adela had known what she was talking about. Elasa had acted prematurely, and wasted her chance. She hadn’t even saved Bunky. All she could do was watch, at a skewed angle, as the Maggot went after what little was left of their party.

Now only Adela and Venus remained to face the monster. Obviously Adela could not oppose it physically or mentally, and Venus was a potted plant with little physical motion.

But now the Maggot paused, facing the Plant. Adela stood behind Venus, unmoving. What was happening?

“Venus is throwing illusions,” Adela explained, knowing that Elasa could hear her. “Nasty ones, to frighten the Maggot. She had to have time to get into its mind, so as to find what worked. But it’s an alien mind, and difficult to fathom. We had to keep distracting it until she succeeded.”

Distracting it by giving up their lives? Elasa could not talk with her head disconnected, but the question was rhetorical anyway. She might have saved her friends if she had plowed into the battle sooner.

“By sacrificing themselves to buy time,” Adela said, as though aware of Elasa’s thoughts. “Everything depends on Venus.”

Yes, the Plant was their secret weapon; its arrival on Earth had changed the outlook from negative to possible. But Elasa had never understood exactly
how.

“There’s the giant flytrap swallowing Earth,” Adela reported. “Only its not a threat to Earth, but to the Maggots. If they take over Earth, they will be consumed.”

And those cynical monsters were supposed to believe that? It was the other way around: the Maggots were going to eat Earth.

“It’s a warning to all Maggots,” Adela continued. “Because this Maggot is in mental touch with its brethren in space. They know everything it knows. That’s why one of them came physically: to get an accurate picture, unfiltered by the distortions of captive minions.”

And Earth was wide open for the harvest. No chance to bluff them out now. Had they been able to kill the Maggot at the outset--

“And now the piece de resistance,” Adela said. “The thing the Maggots most fear. Venus finally found it.”

The Maggot closed on the Plant, spraying acid. But Venus caught the acid on her leaf, unharmed, and hurled it back. It splattered on the Maggot, burning its hide. Of course! Venus used similar acid to digest
her
meals.

“Now she’s sending it,” Adela said.

The Maggot drew back so quickly it fell over in its back and wriggled helplessly for a moment. The sight would have been humorous, had there been any humor in the situation. It rolled back upright, then scrambled on its little legs to the door the Companions had entered by, and on out.

“It’s over,” Adela said, coming across to pick up Elasa’s battered pieces and reassemble them. Elasa was made to come apart; she was actually not much damaged, apart from the blistering of her surface. Soon she was together and functioning, though hardly in top form. Banner would not want to clasp her skinless torso.

“What happened?” she asked when her body was able to supply her with air for talking. “A little return acid couldn’t scare that thing off.”

“Venus finally found the key image. Mites.”

“Mites? Little bugs?”

“Tiny parasitic spiders that feed on animals, plants, or insects. Difficult to eradicate, because they have had millions of years evolving with their hosts and are versed in survival. The ones that feed on Maggots must be Awares, like those that feed on sheep, and immune to digestive acid, so they can avoid countermeasures.”

“True,” Kop said, sitting up. Elasa had for the moment forgotten that he was still there. He had a bad bruise on his face, but seemed otherwise intact. “Maggots will go to extraordinary lengths to avoid contamination by them, because it’s nothing but mischief.”

“Are you possessed or free?” Elasa asked him warily.

“Possessed but ignored for the moment. I believe you can safely free me again.”

Adela and Venus oriented on him.

“Yes, thank you, girls, that’s better,” he said.

Elasa returned to Adela. “The Maggot is fleeing the mere image of Maggot mites?”

“The threat of them,” Adela said. “It gleaned from our minds that Venus was a native of Colony Jones, not an exchangee, so carried native infestations with her. Her arrival on Earth brought them here. Normally those mites infect sheep, but there’s a small chance that they could also feed on Maggots. Enough of a chance to cloud the precognitive indication. The Maggot didn’t want to take that chance. It’s heading back to the fleet now.”

“But the Maggots are aliens from another section of the galaxy,” Elasa protested. “They did not evolve with Earth creatures. Our mites should not infect them.”

“Wrong,” Kop said. “All life in this region of the galaxy has a common origin, and is fundamentally compatible. That’s why the Maggots can feed on it. Your mites might indeed feed on them.”

Elasa realized it was true. Like could feed on like.

There was the sound of an explosion from the direction of the nearby spaceport.

“That was the Maggot’s ship,” Adela said. “It seems the Maggots didn’t want to risk it either. This Maggot had been exposed to the Plant, and to other creatures associating with it; infestation was distinctly possible. They prefer a sure thing, and their precogs and Awares have to have gone murky. So they eliminated the threat.”

“They are nothing if not efficient,” Kop agreed.

“And our friends Vulture, Python, and Bunky had to die for this?” Elasa asked bitterly, gazing at the three bodies.

“It was essential that the Maggot get the message, and relay it to the other Maggots,” Adela said. “So that they would give up any notion of touching Earth. Our friends sacrificed themselves to make that possible. Fortunately they aren’t really dead.”

“They look dead to me,” Elasa said sourly.

“The Earth animal hosts are dead, yes; that could not be avoided. But we arranged for the originals to be exchanged back to Colony Jones just before they expired. That was another reason timing was critical.”

“That can be done?” Elasa asked. “Exchange without equipment?”

“We prepped them with a delayed exchange, timed for the moment of their death. It’s not a routine procedure, but can be done. Mona’s dad had a connection, and pulled a string.”

“They knew they were going to die,” Elasa said, disturbed.

“They knew they were going to leave their Earth hosts,” Adela said. “We regret having the hosts die, but the precognition and Awareness indicated that this was the course of least mischief.”

“Until I messed it up by acting out of turn.”

“No. Your mind may be telepathically opaque, but your time of action was precogged. Your attack on the Maggot gave Venus that last bit of time she needed to locate the key. Without that, the Maggot would have overrun the Plant and eaten it. You were the final stage in the salvation of Earth.”

Elasa was amazed. “So you knew! Bunky, Venus, and the Awares—you collaborated to save Earth.”

“Yes. We couldn’t have done it without you. As it was, it was a close call. The precognition was murky to us as well as to the Maggots. You were the necessary element of chaos.”

“But the mites really did it, not me.”

“They did and they didn’t. There was only a five percent chance that they could infect Maggots. Had we not really, graphically, impressed that risk on the Maggots, they would have come in anyway, and chances are they would have been all right. Add that to the projective telepathy of the Plant, and the mystery of machine consciousness in you, and it was enough. They don’t like uncertainty.”

“But once they sort it out, and realize how small the actual risk is, they could return.”

“That’s why you will have to remain on duty, as the secret mistress of Earth,” Adela said. “We discussed it with Mona’s father, Moncho Maverick, and he is setting up the obscure connections to the real sources of power. Your word will be law.”

“The secret mistress of Earth! I never sought any such thing!”

“You do not seek power, and are incorruptible,” Kop said. “It makes sense. You will work with the sheep and the Awares, and of course Venus, ready to take necessary action the moment a threat is precogged.”

“But that’s the province of government.”

He laughed. “The government I knew was corrupt and helpless. So was the one Pauling knew. They need to be quietly bypassed for anything important.”

Elasa looked desperately at Adela. “The Awares are in on this?” But of course they were. This was their area of expertise, written large. They knew what worked.

“We have special properties,” Adela said. “But we are living humans, therefore corruptible. We need an incorruptible guide. Now we know that our mission is to protect the world from being eaten. We will gladly do that, maintaining contact only with you.”

“All I want to do is go home to my husband and baby and take care of my Plant. To be a normal woman.”

“And you will do that,” Kop said. “You will make no waves at all. No one else will even know.” He smiled. “But Pauling and I hope you will not forget us as we do our part. We do love you.”

And Kop would fade out in six months, leaving Pauling. It was probably better to maintain that contact, apart from the fact that she did like them.

Elasa still couldn’t quite accept it. “Maybe Mona could--”

“Mona will soon return to Colony Jones for her next six month stint with her loving husband and the Lamb,” Adela said. “That’s all
she
wants to do.”

Elasa realized it was true. There was no one but her to keep the watch. She was stuck for it. “Let’s go out and thank the sheep,” she said.

“They already know,” Adela said. “We shouldn’t annoy them by interrupting their grazing.”

Then they all laughed. Elasa picked up the pot. She was going home.

Author's Note: Part 1

There are three mysteries I would like to fathom before I die: why is there something instead of nothing, how did life first happen, and what is the secret of consciousness? The latest conjecture on the first mystery is that the very concept of nothing is a paradox; there is tension that erupts in the explosive birth of myriad universes. Our own universe is the one of an infinite number that has the requirements that enable matter to exist, at least temporarily. Fourteen billion years may be but an eye blink in the larger cosmos. Our own tiny section of that, the planet Earth, has the particular slosh of chemicals that enabled life to start, perhaps in a spark of lightning. Then, out of the bacteria, viruses, plants and other life forms, finally came consciousness, which I suspect consists of a special feedback circuit that could be copied into a suitable machine. It may be a rather simple device, once we figure it out. When we do, we will be able to build conscious humanoid robots, like Elasa. If it really works.

There have been realistic humanoid robots before; science fiction is full of them. I have had them myself, notably in my Adept and ChroMagic series. But have they really been conscious, or merely almost perfect emulations? It is hard to be sure. And if we do succeed in making them, what are the legal and moral implications? Could they be enfranchised as legal people, with the right to vote? If one is killed, would it be murder? Could they fall in love with living folk?

I wish I knew the answers.

This novella was mostly from my imagination, and is not intended to be an accurate portrayal of either robotics or law. I did find one reference useful, however: the book
The Most Human Human
, by Brian Christian, about the author's experience with the Turing test and the pitfalls thereof. Indeed, it is not easy for a machine to emulate a human being well enough to fool another human being. It poses the question of whether it would ever be possible to construct a computer so sophisticated that it could actually said to be thinking, to be intelligent, to have a mind. And if that came to be, how would we know? That's one reason I put some of Elasa's awareness into the first person: so that in this novella, at least, we would know.

*

My thanks to my wife, Carol, who gave me the
Most Human Human
book in the hope that it would help, as indeed it did, and to Rudy Reyes, who proofread the manuscript. If man does not live by bread alone, neither does an author write by imagination alone. He is but the tip of an iceberg of support.

Author's Note: Part 2

This is a sort of sequel to my prior novella,
To Be A Woman
. I thought of it just after I finished writing
Woman
, in January 2012 and it quickly blossomed into its own novella written in February 2012. Ideas are like that; some founder unborn, some remain minor, some become stories, and some whole series of novels. I have a massive file containing summaries of my notions, and I draw on those notions at need, or when they simply will not be denied. This one started with the sheep who could stab an attacker to death without moving.

Actually, I am more of a goat person than a sheep person. I was raised on a goat farm, and later had two goats of my own. Goats seem smarter and more individual, being ever curious about things. Sheep in contrast simply fall into line. The word “capricious” derives from an ancient word for goat. Goats speak by saying a friendly maaaa while sheep utter a stupid baaaa. So you can see I have my prejudice. But there is a different kind of sheep, called the Jacob Sheep, which seems goat-like and has four horns. My daughter kept some of those for a while, in part because my legal surname is Jacob, as was hers. Maybe that memory influenced my subconscious, encouraging me to come up with another different kind of sheep. So you won't hear me badmouthing sheep; they have their points too, even those without telepathy or precognition.

I say “sort of sequel” because this started out as an independent novella, but when I needed an Earth planet host for Elen, Mona volunteered. So she and Elasa and Moncho stepped into this story and really helped out, displacing the Jacob Sheep farm girl I originally had in mind. I find I rather like this intermediate length, long enough to fashion a good story, short enough to write in a month. Still, I found myself wondering what Mona would find, there in the body of a pregnant woman, accompanied by a vulture and a python. Why are those two animals still there, if not to keep an eye on things? Does that mean that the sheep aren't finished here? Would she pin down precognition and set up the story of the century? If so, it probably deserved its own novella. As turned out to be the case.

This novella, like the prior one, does have its thoughtful aspects. If it is controversial to have a conscious robot marry a living man, how about interplanetary marriage, where one partner must always be in a body not his or her own? Can love exist in such manner? Would the law recognize such a union? What about children: whose are they, the genetic parent's or the love parent's? I assume in the novella that such things can be worked out, but it might be more complicated in reality. There is also the lighter side, such as the snarky media humorists portrayed here, and their come-uppance. I remember when there was a cartoon series
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
, about man-sized turtles doing heroic deeds. In real life at that time fishing boats were killing rare turtles by illegal net fishing that trapped turtles as well as fish. Then a political cartoon showed the Ninja Turtles quietly boarding a fishing boat. . .

Author's Note: Part 3

When I wrote the prior novella,
Shepherd
, which turned out to my surprise to be a sequel to
To Be A Woman
, when Mona volunteered to be Elen's Earth host, I realized that there were loose ends. Why did the sheep facilitate Elen's exchange to Earth? What would Mona do in Elen's body? What was the larger reason the sheep did not free Vulture and Python and return to their grazing? What did the fembot Elasa have to do with this? So I organized the present novella, addressing those threads, and realized that the story was still unfinished. The next one would complete it.

Author's Note: Part 4

This is the fourth and concluding novella in the series. Like the others, it was a combination of disparate notions that found their home in the larger narrative. The main one was the Awares: I figured them out, as an ideal group to accomplish something secret but important, then stalled. What could they do that would be worthy of their special talent? Then when I had a crisis in the series, I realized that the Awares were made for it. So the original story became Chapter 2, and they carried on from there. Sometimes readers are furious when they learn how a piece of fiction was cobbled together from odds and ends, rather than springing complete and pristine from the ear of Zeus, but I trust that my readers are more mature.

Will the Maggots return? I think not as long as Elasa keeps watch, and she should exist for a long time, since she can't actually die. So Earth should be safe for the indefinite future. I trust you are relieved to know this. Naturally none of this will make media headlines; real history often doesn't.

Readers interested in my works may visit my website
www.hipiers.com
or blogspot at
http://piersanthonyblog.blogspot.com
. Currently I do a monthly column about anything that interests me, ranging from book reviews to my liberal rants, and maintain an ongoing survey of electronic publishers and related services for the benefit of aspiring authors who might otherwise be excluded from publication. If you are such an author, check me out.