“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” said the computerized voice of the Angel.
Mondrian stared back at the gently waving fronds. The Angels had that disconcerting habit of employing human clichйs and proverbs at every opportunity. No one was ever sure if it represented the symbiote’s perverse ideas of racial politeness, or served some wild sense of humor.
“Regarding the entities that Livia Morgan proposed to create.” Mondrian had realized after a few seconds that the Angel intended to offer no further comment. “I will from this point term them the Morgan Constructs. They were designed specifically to patrol the Perimeter. Their performance specifications were drawn very precisely. Each unit had to be mobile, durable, and highly intelligent. Livia Morgan told me once that they would be — I quote — ‘indestructible.’ Fortunately, she was exaggerating. However, they were designed to be very tough, since they would cruise the unexplored regions of the Perimeter, and perhaps there encounter life forms inimical to them and to everyone in the Stellar Group. However, I intended that they should serve a reporting function only. They would be able to protect themselves from attack, but they would not, under any circumstances, harm a known intelligent life form, or any life form that might possibly have intelligence.
“I was present at every initial demonstration of the Morgan Constructs. They were exposed to each of our four species, and to the seven other possibly intelligent organisms within the Perimeter. They were also allowed to interact with a variety of Artefacts, simulacra of differing degrees of apparent intelligence. The Constructs recognized each known form. The unknown ones, they responded to in a friendly and harmless manner. They treated the Artefacts with caution and respect. When attacked themselves, they did no more than remove themselves from harm’s way. However, they did so too reluctantly, and would have been destroyed in any real attack. I therefore authorized the next stage of the work, to raise the Constructs to a higher level of sophistication. Livia Morgan began that program. But somehow, out on Cobweb Station, a crucial design blunder must have been made.” Mondrian faced Dougal MacDougal. “May I show the images obtained by the probe?”
“Carry on. But hurry. We can’t hold the link indefinitely.”
“I want to warn you all, these scenes are deeply disturbing.” As Mondrian spoke, a sphere of darkness was forming behind him. Within it glowed the rough-textured ovoid of Cobweb Station as it had been seen by one of the bristle probes. At first the whole station sat in the field of view. It grew in size, and increased steadily in resolution. Soon dozens of flattened and twisted objects could be seen, floating outside the airlocks. Many of them were quite unrecognizable, little more than fused fragments of metal and plastic. The camera ignored those. It closed remorselessly on a score of space suits. Each one was filled, but if their occupants had been alive when they were expelled from the locks, they would not have survived for long. The detailed images showed missing limbs, disemboweled trunks, and headless torsoes. The camera locked on one figure, a turning eyeless corpse that lacked feet and hands. “That is the mortal remains of Dr. Livia Morgan.” Mondrian’s voice was unnaturally calm. “Although neither she nor the guards were able to send distress signals from Cobweb Station, the monitors preserved a complete record of their last few hours. Based on that evidence, Morgan Constructs are cunning, and deadly, and utterly inimical to human life. I would Tike to express my admiration for the performance of the guards assigned to Cobweb Station by Commander Brachis. Although they had no warning when the Constructs ran wild, they did not give up or panic. There were seventeen Morgan Constructs on Cobweb Station, each at a different stage of development, and each designed with a different level of sophistication. The guards were able to destroy fourteen of them completely, inside or outside the station, but with great loss of life. Dr. Morgan and four surviving guards attempted to negotiate with the remaining three. She was seized and systematically dismembered. Unless you insist, I do not propose to show you details of those scenes.
“The remaining guards were hounded through the station interior. They managed to destroy two more Morgan Constructs before they were killed themselves. By the time that the bristle probes reached Cobweb Station, it was empty of all life.
“Seventeen Constructs.” The whistling voice of the Tinker Composite spoke at once. “Fourteen died, and later two more …”
“You are quite correct.” The images behind Mondrian were fading. “As Commander Brachis told you, the Mat-tin Link had been operated. That should have been impossible for a Construct which had received no assistance or training. It is a further proof of extraordinary intelligence. The seventeenth Morgan Construct — the most recently developed, and the most sophisticated — has disappeared. We are doing our best to trace it, but our working assumption must be a pessimistic one. Somewhere within the fifty-eight lightyear radius of the Known Sphere — close to the Perimeter, we hope, rather than near one of our home worlds — there is a formidable threat, of unknown magnitude. I do not believe that any of our races is in immediate danger, particularly since the Constructs were designed and trained to work out on the Perimeter, and it is likely that the escaped one will have chosen to flee there. But we cannot guarantee that, or that the Construct will stay in one place. The purpose of today’s meeting was to inform you of these unfortunate facts; and to hear your suggestions as to ways of dealing with the situation. That is the end of my official statement. Are there questions?”
Mondrian waited, glancing from one oval pool of light to the next. The Tinker, Angel, and Pipe-Rilla were too alien for him to be able to read their feelings. Dougal MacDougal merely seemed irritable and decidedly uneasy.
“Then, your Excellencies.” Mondrian took a step backwards, intending to align himself with Luther Brachis. “With your permission—”
“Questions!” The fourteen-foot figure of the Pipe-Rilla was unfolding, rising high on its stick-thin legs. The fore-limbs were clutching the tubular trunk, and the long antennas were waving. “I have questions.”
Mondrian stepped forward again and waited, while the Pipe-Rilla went through a writhing of limbs and a preliminary buzzing.
“Tell us more about the capability of the Morgan Constructs. A being, designed for defense but turned against its makers, sounds unpleasant. But it does not sound like a great threat, or a cosmic issue. Presumably you designed these Constructs without major means of aggression?’
“They were designed that way, true enough.” Mondrian glanced around, to see if Luther Brachis wanted to make any comment. The other man seemed more than ready to stay in the background. “However, as I mentioned, the Constructs were all equipped with considerable powers of self-defense, to protect them from possible enemies of unknown strength. Remember, they were supposed to operate alone, far from any support, against any dangers. Unfortunately, their defensive powers can also be used offensively. Their power plants can produce small fusion weapons. Their power lasers and shearing cones are enough to destroy any ship. They contained the best detection equipment that we could produce, since we wanted them to be able to find other life forms at the longest possible range. I could give you full details, but perhaps a single example is more informative: any single Morgan Construct could destroy a city, or lay waste a fair-sized planetoid. The surviving Construct, unfortunately, was the best equipped of the seventeen that were made.”
Throughout Mondrian’s reply there had been a slow stirring within the Tinker Composite. As he ended there came a burst of speech, so fast that the computers cut in to decipher and re-translate it.
“Why? gabbled the Tinker. “Why, why, why? In the name of Security, you humans have produced a danger to yourselves and to all the other species of the Stellar Group. Why does anyone need a Morgan Construct? Consider yourselves. You have been exploring the region around your Sun for six hundred of your years. We have watched that exploration for more than three centuries, ever since humans discovered our world and offered us space travel. And what have we seen? The Perimeter now encloses a region one hundred and sixteen lightyears in diameter, with more than two thousand star systems and a hundred and forty-three life-supporting planets. And nowhere, at any place within that vast region, has any species been found that is in any way murderous or aggressive — except your own. You humans are lifting a mirror to the universe, seeing your own faces within it, and declaring the cosmos terrifying. We, the Tinkers, say two things: First, until you created your Morgan Constructs there was no danger anywhere. Second, tell us why you continue this insane rush to expand the Perimeter. It now ends fifty-eight lightyears away from Sol. Will you humans be satisfied when it has reached eighty lightyears? Or one hundred lightyears? Will you stop then? When will you stop?”