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          +-+--+-+--+-+     VOLUME SIX                    NUMBER TWO
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          |           |      BITNET Fantasy-Science Fiction Fanzine 
       ___|___________|___  X-Edited by 'Orny' Liscomb <CSDAVE@MAINE>

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                                 CONTENTS 
             X-Editorial                          Orny 
             Protopredator                        Jim Owens 
             To End All Wars                      Orny 
             Infection                            Jim Owens 
             Project Rip Van Winkle               Glenn R. Sixbury 

           Date: 102686                               Dist: 178 
           An "*" indicates story is part of the Dargon Project
           All original materials  copyrighted by the author(s) 
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                               X-Editorial
     Hello, again,  all. Well, this issue  wasn't going to be  this way
 originally, but  it seems  that this  is a  special SF  issue, despite 
 all  my  attempts  to  harangue   the  Dargon  authors  into  writing.
 Enclosed  you'll find  two  more  SF shorts  by  Jim  Owens, one  from 
 myself, and  one which came to  me just yesterday from  this gentleman
 at  KSUVM, Glenn  Sixbury. Needless  to  say, I'm  quite tickled.  The
 next  issue will  be out  by Thanksgiving  and should  (emphasis here) 
 contain another  Atros story  from Joseph  Curwen, another  Ceda story 
 from Joel Slatis, and the next Spirit story from Rich Jervis.
     But on  to the big news.  FSFnet has gone internet!  After getting
 some visibility on the other networks  from Chuq, I've had  FSFnet put 
 in  the  master  list  of  ARPA digests,  and  the  subscriptions  are 
 already coming in.  For that matter, BITNET  subscriptions are growing 
 at a  healthy pace, and I'm  very happy. We've even  brainwashed a few
 new writers!  Oop, did I mean  to say that? No  matter, they're firmly
 convinced that  FSFnet is worth  reading and  writing for, and  I hope 
 you all are, too. Until Thanksgiving, then. Keep spreading the word! 
                         -Orny  <CSDAVE @ MAINE>

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                              Protopredator 
     The program  reached out with its  tentacle subroutines, exploring 
 the memory  around it. It found  some code, and, as  it was programmed
 to,  assimilated  the  code  into  its  own  structure.  Its  designer
 watched  with glee.  Written  as part  of  an artificial  intelligence
 venture,  the program  was  designed  to recognize  the  pattern of  a 
 subroutine and  to incorporate that  routine as  part of itself.  In a
 nearby memory  location, a similar  project analyzed the  structure of
 hardware  locations.  Still  another  busily  modified  itself  in  an 
 attempt  to overcome  novel problems.  All throughout  the mainframe's
 memory, programs  did things that  previously were thought  to require
 human intelligence. 
     "Hey, Jack! Come look at this!"
     The two men huddled over the terminal. 
     "Neat. Acts like my dog, eating everything in sight."
     "Hey! Where'd it go?" 
     The trace stopped.  As far as the operating  system was concerned, 
 the program never existed. 
     "Maybe it ate itself."
     "Oh, well. Back to the drawing board."
     "Well, you're getting closer."

     Twisting  tentacles reached  out,  exploring  the port  structure.
 The predator-program  analyzed the data  streaming in and  out through 
 the  port. It  appeared to  match  a pattern  it had  seen before.  It
 searched,  and  found  the  receiving   software,  and  at  the  first
 opportunity  seized  it   .  Immediately  it  began   to  emulate  the 
 data-comm  package  to avoid  being  detected  by the  host  software, 
 using  the  package's own  subroutines  to  do so.  As  it  did so  it 
 analyzed the  code it  was simulating,  just as  it had  several other
 programs since  it escaped from  the memory area the  operating system
 had assigned it. It  only took a few seconds for it  to figure out how 
 to use the  new routines for its  own uses. Using the  new routines it 
 sent  several   packets  down  the   line  to  the  far   host,  where 
 unsuspecting  software  assembled  it,  and, at  the  command  of  the
 predgram on  the other end,  placed it in memory  and ran it.  The new 
 program  immediately  seized control  of  the  port  on its  end,  and
 started assembling  the packets  the predgram sent  it. Before  any of 
 the  supervisory software  could  detect anything  amiss, the  invader 
 program had  assembled and activated  a copy of the  predgram nucleus. 
 The newly born  predgram immediately scrambled off to  another part of
 the  CPU,  leaping   page  boundaries  and  replicating   as  fast  as 
 resources  would allow.  To all  outside observers  it was  invisible.
 The  only  evidence of  its  existance  was  a slight  degradation  of
 system  performance. The  invader  program began  to assemble  another
 predgram,  but before  it could  the operating  system activated  it's 
 garbage  collection scheme.  Before the  invader could  protect itself 
 it  was gone.  Several pages  deeper, however,  one of  it's offspring 
 assimilated a  part of the OS,  and vanished safely away.  The species
 had perpetuated itself.
                        -Jim Owens  <J1O @ PSUVM>

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                             To End All Wars
     The  dome  of Durrackgorod  shone  silvery  only three  kilometers 
 distant,  silent in  the  martian desert.  Through the  reddish-orange
 dust could  be seen several  figures at a  distance of perhaps  half a 
 klic, hunched  about a  large mechanism. Suddenly  an indigo  beam cut
 through the atmosphere,  anchored at the mechanism  and playing slowly 
 over the  dome of the Soviet  Mars station. In an  explosive rush, the 
 pressurized  dome gave  way, releasing  oxygen and  nitrogen into  the
 thin martian sky.
     Suddenly, a group  of figures appeared from  behind an outcropping
 of  rust-colored rock,  running  quickly towards  the group  operating
 the  laser. A  parody of  melee broke  out, men  battling one  another 
 while  encumbered  within space  suits  in  a low-gravity  atmosphere; 
 however,  the single  observer  watched with  increasing agitation  as 
 those men  who had brought out  the laser were defeated.  The eventual 
 victors shut down  the laser, and had  begun to turn it  to face Dyson 
 Station, when  they noticed the lone  observer. As the man  turned and 
 ran, the view faltered, then went dim.

     "Good,  Tovarish Benya.  That was  ochin good  take. We  now shoot 
 final scene, da?"
     "Da,"  replied the  American. The  American and  Soviet scientists
 were  definitely not  actors, but  the footage  they had  shot so  far 
 seemed convincing enough.
     The  old Russian  stomped  resolutely off  towards Dyson  Station, 
 the  American Mars  colony.  Ben  stood a  moment  and  looked at  the
 cracked  shell that  once  had been  Durrackgorod.  His mind  wandered 
 through the events of the past months.
     Soon   after  the   Russians  had   populated  Durrackgorod,   the 
 Americans   had  established   Dyson  Station,   only  a   mere  three 
 kilometers   from  the   Soviet  station.   This  had   proved  highly
 advantageous for the  colonists, because once they had  gotten to know
 one  another  there  had  been considerable  cooperation  between  the
 Soviets   and   Americans.   Neither    expedition   had   been   very 
 well-planned,  although  together they  had  managed  to survive.  The 
 colonists  freely  came  and  went  between  the  complexes,  and  had
 stopped being Soviets and Americans, and started to trust one another. 
     Then came  the news.  The war  in Africa  had escalated  to global 
 levels, and  the announcements had come  within an hour of  each other
 that the  Russians and Americans  on Mars  were to sabotage  the enemy 
 settlements. There had  been a long debate as to  what should be done,
 and  finally  it  had  been  decided  that  they  would  perform  mock 
 combats,  and transmit  the pictures  so  that both  the Russians  and 
 Soviets would intercept  the transmission. They had moved  most of the
 equipment  from the  Soviet  dome, then  filmed  its destruction.  The
 destruction of  the American  station would  not actually  take place,
 but would  be  assumed from  the  footage.  The  colonists would  then
 reconstruct the Soviet station and continue their work in peace.
     "You are ready, Tovarish Benya?"
     "Da, I am ready."

     The   picture   showed   Dr.   Benjamin   Herald,   the   American 
 psychologist,  in his  vacsuit within  the American  compound. He  was 
 speaking. "As you  saw, we destroyed Durrackgorod as  was ordered. The
 Russians, however,  captured the  laser, and turned  it upon  Dyson. I
 am  the  last  surviving  American,  and  there  are  a  few  Soviets, 
 although without  a pressurized environment,  we will all  surely die. 
 As I  foresee no  method of  reconstructing either  dome, I  fear this 
 will be the last transmission from the Mars colonies. Farewell." 
     The picture blanked. 

     Ben  Herald waited  for the  Dyson  dome to  repressurize. It  had
 been done. The  Mars colonies would have  no aid from Earth.  It was a 
 new beginning. 
                          -Orny <CSDAVE @ MAINE>

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                                Infection 
     The  ship cut  through  the atmosphere  like  a treacherous  knife 
 through  a victim's  back. By  the time  it hit  the ground  there was
 nothing  left  but  ten  charred  lumps. Once  on  the  ground,  these 
 stirred,  and broke  open. From  them  crawled ten  human forms,  like 
 larva  from   egg  casings.  They  staggered   together,  cursing  and
 swearing at  their misfortune. They  paused long enough to  locate the
 nearest village, then moved off. 
     The lead  group stumbled  out into the  clearing, blinking  in the 
 warm  sun. They  cautiously  looked  around. They  were  leery of  the
 building, but  walked around it  cautiously anyway. Even so  they held 
 their  cruel rifles  tightly. The  scout peered  around the  corner of
 the  barn, and  smiled. He  motioned the  whole group  to follow  him.
 They walked  out, and watched  the young woman swing  carelessly while
 music played  from a small box.  One vented a rough  chuckle. The girl
 turned. She showed no fear, only surprise. 
     "Who are  you?" She looked  at their grubby,  bloodstained clothes 
 in wonder, as they slowly crowded around her, blocking out the light. 

     The main  group stepped out onto  the main street. The  grass grew
 green  beside  the   main  walk,  while  flawless   metal  formed  the
 pavement.  They  swaggered  down   the  thoroughfare,  weapons  openly 
 displayed.  They  laughed  harshly  and  sang  loudly.  People  stared 
 curiously  at  the  strange  sight  of  dirty  men  cursing  in  broad 
 daylight. Only one or two older men watched the men carefully.
     One  of  the ruffians  saw  a  glitter in  one  of  the shops.  He 
 swaggered  over, and  with one  easy movement,  after grinning  at his
 fellows,  he smashed  the glass.  As  the people  stared, shocked,  he
 swiped the  jewelry from its stand  and stuffed it in  his pocket. His
 fellows laughed  and laughed,  then reached  in and  helped themselves 
 to the easy pickings. 
     A  male  voice  stopped  the  movement with  a  shrill  yell.  The 
 pirates  turned at  the sound.  One of  the advance  group burst  into
 view, running  as if for  his life. Not far  behind him was  the young 
 woman,  hurrying as  if  to catch  a friend  who  had misunderstood  a
 complement. The  thug reached  the group,  babbling. The  leader stood 
 for a moment, then raised his rifle. 
     The  blast  split  the  air.   All  movement  stopped.  The  woman 
 stopped, puzzled.  She looked down at  the smoking hole burned  in her
 clean white gown.  Then she took a step forward, her arm outstretched. 
 The leader  fired again.  She took  another step  forward. He  fired a
 third time, cursing  her. A second pirate joined in.  The group took a
 step or  two back as she  continued to advance, shaking  her head, her
 hands over  her ears. They  backed against  a wall, firing  still. One 
 by  one they  ran out  of ammunition.  The young  lady in  white stood 
 bewildered  by   the  noise.  Her   gown  hung  in   tattered  shreds. 
 Underneath could be seen smooth skin, totally untouched. 
     As they  stood there, staring  at each  other, there came  a short 
 roaring of  wind and  a blur of  white light. Then  there stood  a man 
 between  the  two groups.  He  was  tall,  and  strong, and  his  skin 
 flickered with  a white glow. It  died everywhere but on  his arms. He
 reached out, and  took the rifle gently from the  leader's hands. With
 one smooth move  he snapped it in  two. He crammed both  pieces in one 
 hand. He turned,  and his arm snapped up and  forward in a millisecond
 flash.  There  was  a  crack  as the  rifle  parts  achieved  terminal
 velocity, and burned up on the way to outer space.
     He turned  to look  at the  pirates. He then  walked to  the woman 
 and cradled her  protectively. He then looked at the  men, a semblance 
 of anger  in his  eyes. He  raised his arm,  and pointed  back towards 
 the woods. 
     "Go." 
     The poison drained hurriedly, leaving the body clean. 
                        -Jim Owens  <J1O @ PSUVM>

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                          Project Rip Van Winkle 
     David   stirred    a   little,   finally   raising    himself   to
 consciousness.  After bringing  himself back  to reality,  he realized
 that  he had  been stripped  and was  laying completely  naked on  the
 floor  of a  small room.  He  slowly pushed  himself to  his feet  and
 looked  around.  The  room  was  empty. It  looked  a  little  like  a
 hospital room,  with its  light-colored tile  floor and  white ceiling
 and walls.  As he  stood up, a  sharp pain in  his lower  groin almost
 made him lie back  down again. It felt as if someone  had buried a lit 
 blow  torch inside  his intestines.  Bravely, he  attempted to  ignore
 the pain and decide what had happened to him.
     David walked  over to the door,  but he could see  no possible way
 to open  it. There was no  door knob and no  control panel. Obviously, 
 wherever he was, he was going to be here for some time.
     David tried to remember  how he had ended up where  he was, but he
 couldn't recall  anything at all.  He didn't  even know how  long he'd 
 been asleep. He  didn't know where they had taken  Catheryn, his wife.
 Things during  the last  few days  had been more  strange than  he had 
 ever imagined  they could be.  Before they were put  into hibernation, 
 David and Catheryn  had been extensively briefed  in their orientation
 sessions about all  the possible situations they might  find when they 
 woke up, but nothing they had been taught had prepared them for this. 
     Slowly  David relived  the only  events he  recalled since  he and
 Catheryn had  woke. David  remembered that  Catheryn had  already been
 awake and  up when  he had climbed  out of his  own sleeping  pod. She 
 had looked  almost the  same as  when they had  went to  sleep, except 
 that  her hair  had  grown  longer, making  her  even more  beautiful.
 David, himself had grown  a beard, and his own hair  had grown down to 
 his  shoulders. Otherwise,  he felt  quite normal,  until he  realized 
 that now  he was 122  years old. I feel  great, considering how  old I 
 am, he had thought as he and Catheryn had examined their surroundings. 
     Most of  the hibernation chamber  in which  they had stayed  was a 
 wreck, and  the remaining sleeping  pods were empty. After  spending a 
 few minutes  in a  joyful reawakening with  Catheryn, they  decided to 
 see to  what they  had awoken.  David struggled with  the door  to the
 outside world, finally hot wiring it enough to convince it to open.
     At first,  the outside world  seemed to  be exactly what  they had
 expected. The  buildings looked somewhat  more modern than  those that 
 existed when  they had  been put  to sleep,  but not  surprisingly so. 
 Although  the streets  of the  city were  almost deserted,  the people
 they encountered seemed  normal enough, except that no  one they spoke
 to seemed  to understand  what David and  Catheryn explained  to them.
 David  asked  them  where   the  hibernation  orientation  center  was 
 located, but it  was no use. David decided the  center had not existed
 for some time, since  no one even realized there had  ever been such a 
 place. Then when  they had attempted to find out  what had happened to 
 their  possesions,  which had  been  legally  frozen for  one  hundred
 years, pending  their reawakening,  they still  could not  find anyone
 who had  even the  vaguest idea  of what they  were talking  about. In
 fact,  the very  concept of  owning personal  items seemed  to confuse 
 them. At  last, David  concluded that  the society  of the  future had 
 become totally socialistic, having no personal wealth or possessions. 
     As evening  had approached,  they had attempted  to find  a motel,
 or  an apartment  house, or  anywhere in  which they  could spend  the 
 night, but  each living dwelling they  came to was closed  and sealed. 
 Finally,  exhausted (prolonged  hibernation weakens  the body),  David
 had broken  into a  room of  an abandoned motel.  Once inside,  it was 
 clear to see  that the motel had not been  closed permanently, because 
 the bed  in the room  was still made, and  there were still  towels in 
 the  bathroom. They  even had  running water  and electricity.  Except 
 for the  TV being on the  fritz, the room was  perfectly normal. David 
 had wanted  to see  the news  and find out  what was  going on  in the 
 world. He  even considered going to  another room or trying  to find a
 newspaper, but Catheryn  was already asleep, and he  could barely keep
 his own  eyes open. Too  tired to  do any more,  he had lain  down and 
 fallen asleep beside his wife.
     The attempts of  the next day to  find out what was  going on went
 much  better than  the day  before. The  first person  they talked  to
 seemed to  be looking for  them. They were  put into a  modern version 
 of  an automobile  and driven  to a  large important  looking building
 where, their  driver explained, everything would  be straightened out.
 Once inside the  building, they had been escorted to  an office, where 
 a large friendly  man who introduced himself as Kordok  had asked them 
 a  very  long series  of  questions  about  when  they had  went  into 
 hibernation, where  their sleeping  pods had  been located,  when they
 had  been  born,  and  other questions  pertaining  to  their  origin.
 Towards noon,  after several hours  of intense questioning,  David had 
 asked why  no one  had understood  who they were  or what  they wanted
 the  day before.  Kordok answered  by  explaining that  all the  other 
 sleeping pods  had been destroyed and  that it had been  so long since
 anyone had  seen a hibernation  subject, they had forgotten  about the 
 process. As for  the rest of David's questions, Kordok  gave them only
 the briefest of answers, promising to answer in detail after lunch. 
     David  and Catheryn  had  been  taken to  what  must  have been  a
 restaurant at one  time, and given some very strange  looking food. It 
 didn't  taste very  good, and  David  remembered that  neither he  nor
 Catheryn had  eaten much of  it. However,  they had been  given drinks
 of  some sort  which they  consumed eagerly.  It was  common knowledge
 that prolonged hibernation dehydrated the body. 
     When  David attempted  to recall  what had  happened after  lunch,
 his memory  failed him. Catheryn  and he  had finished lunch  and were
 sitting  on a  bench...but the  rest  was fuzzy.  He vaguely  recalled
 strange dreams  as he  slept. They were  dreams of  hospitals, strange
 people around  him, and  painful experiences. He  tried his  best, but 
 he couldn't  recall any more.  What had  happened? What was  going on?
 Why had  his clothes  been taken  away from him?  For the  first time,
 David  began  to   fear  not  only  for  his  safety,   but  also  for 
 Catheryn's. In desperation, he began beating on the door. 
     Suddenly, David's fist  punched thin air, setting  him off balance 
 and sending  him sprawling onto his  belly. Standing above him  by the 
 doorway was  Kordok. David sprang to  his feet, looking around  at the 
 room he  had fallen into.  It contained  several other men  and women, 
 all dressed  in what looked  like hospital garb,  staring at him  in a
 detached sort of  way. Remembering he was naked, David  backed up into
 the room where he had awoke. 
     Kordok strode  through the doorway,  and the door shut  behind him
 with a soft whoosh.  "You are once again awake. This  is an error. You 
 were not meant to reawaken." 
     Ignoring  what Kordok  said,  David snarled  at  him, "Where's  my
 wife? What have you done with Catheryn?"
     "She'll  be  fine,"  Kordok  calmly  replied.  "She's  been  taken 
 somewhere where she can be easily taken care of during her pregnancy."
     "Pregnant? My  wife isn't pregnant?  Or at least she  wasn't. What
 are you talking about? What's going on?"
     "Your  wife is  not  pregnant now,  but we  expect  that she  will
 become impregnated in less than a month." 
     "Huh?"  David  didn't  understand,  and  he  was  afraid  to  ask. 
 Kordok's  face  was  completely   expressionless,  his  eyes  intently 
 staring through David.  It was an eerie feeling. David  paced back and 
 forth  across the  room, desperately  trying  to figure  out what  was
 going on.  Nothing made  sense. He couldn't  understand what  all this
 talk about  pregnancy meant, and  he couldn't think straight.  He also
 had that  uncomfortable feeling all people  get when they are  made to 
 stand naked in  front of clothed strangers. Finally, he  said "I don't
 understand what you're  talking about. Why am I here?  What's all this 
 talk about Catheryn getting pregnant? Where are my clothes?"
     "I will  answer you,"  Kordok began.  "Yesterday I  mentioned that 
 all the  other sleeping pods  had been  destroyed. We did  not realize
 that  any were  left intact  and that  we would  ever have  the chance 
 which  we have  now. Therefore  we brought  you here  to make  certain
 that nothing  went wrong  with our  plans to  reproduce your  kind. We 
 have made  a copy  of your  brain waves,  pulling what  information we
 could  from your  mind. We  removed  your clothing  to facilitate  the 
 extraction of  all the semen which  your body produced since  you were 
 put to sleep. You may have noticed some discomfort in the abdomen."
     "Extracted? Discomfort?  I'll have  you know  it hurts  like hell!
 What gives you  the right to do  anything like that? And  just what do
 you mean, 'Extracted'? What did you do to me?" 
     "We  extracted  the semen  by  inserting  a  rod into  your  large 
 intestine, which we  used to give you an electric  shock at the proper
 area in order to--" 
     "Fine!"  David  growled. "Enough  of  the  technical mumbo  jumbo.
 Just what  gives you the  right to go  poking around my  insides? What
 the hell are you trying to do?" 
     "We  are  trying to  resupply  your  species. We  extracted  semen 
 which  will be  used  to impregnate  your  wife. Some  of  it will  be 
 frozen, of  course, so  that it  may be  used as  part of  the genetic
 pool in  the future.  We still  have other  frozen human  sperm intact 
 and we  also have frozen  human eggs,  which will be  fertilized first 
 and then  implanted into your  wife's body.  After the first  human is 
 born,  we plan  to maximize  production by  implanting two  fertilized
 eggs in  the womb per  gestation period. Inbreeding will  be prevented
 by  careful  use   of  the  human  reproduction   material,  which  we
 currently have  available. Once  born, the babies  will be  taken away
 from  your wife's  influences and  reprogrammed as  they grow  so that 
 they  will  automatically  accept   our  wishes  upon  reaching  child
 bearing  years."  Kordok seemed  satisfied  that  he had  cleared  the
 matter. "Even with  one one woman, we should be  able to output twenty 
 to thirty new babies before her reproductive system crashes." 
     "Babies?  This is  nonsense." David  was completely  confused, but 
 he realized that Kordok  was serious and that he and  his wife were in 
 danger. Images  of his wife  naked in a  room like his,  surrounded by
 strange people  poking around her  body, filled  his mind. He  knew he 
 was trapped,  and this knowledge  helped him  to keep his  cool. Maybe 
 there  had  been  some  misunderstanding.  He  needed  to  know  more.
 Finally, he asked, "Why do you want these babies?"
     "It  is the  one flaw  in our  system. You  see, we  have complete
 recall,  and very  rapid  decision  making abilities,  but  as far  as
 producing  new ideas  and inventing  things, we  are quite  incapable. 
 This is  a mistake we  realized only after all  of your kind  had been 
 terminated due to lack of cooperation."
     "Our kind?"  David questioned, looking at  Kordok carefully. David
 could see  nothing strange  about his  appearance. "You've  said 'your 
 kind' several times. What do you mean?"
     "By your kind," Kordok explained, "I mean humans."
     "But you're human."
     "Me human?"  Kordok seemed  to be  puzzled for  a moment.  Then he
 understood.  "Of  course,"  he  said,  "that  explains  your  lack  of
 hostility, which  the others  displayed. You did  not realize  that we
 were not human." 
     "No, I  didn't," David  said, backing away  into the  corner. "But 
 you look like humans. You act like humans. I don't understand."
     "What more is  there to specify?" Kordok said. "You  should have a
 sufficient amount of data to interpret the situation."
     "You forget  buddy," David said,  "I've been asleep for  a hundred 
 years. How about a history lesson?"
     "I  have sufficient  data to  answer that  question," Kordok  told
 him, his face's  lack of emotion still making David  feel ill at ease. 
 "The model  eight-seven-one-one was  developed at MIT  in five-twenty.
 Later, a commercial version of eight-seven-one-one was--" 
     "Hold it!!" David interrupted. "You mean you're a machine?" 
     "We  are  intelligent  machines."  Kordok  explained,  "The  first 
 models  were  marketed by  IBM,  which  called them  BIR's.  Expansion 
 shows BIR is  an acronym for Bipedal Intelligent  Robot. Later, humans
 renamed us  IR's due  to the  need to shorten  their language.  Due to 
 the enormous success  of the first production models,  BIR's were soon
 produced in vast numbers, replacing humans in mundane activities. 
     David  finally   understood  the  situation.  It   was  completely
 mind-boggling,  but  everything that  he  had  been told  had  somehow 
 numbed  his mind  enough  so  that he  could  still think  reasonably. 
 Everybody else  was dead,  and these  poor machines  had been  left to 
 run the  world the best  way that  their programming allowed.  Then it
 suddenly occured  to David  what must  have happened:  The big  war. A 
 nuclear  holocaust  would explain  things.  All  the humans  had  been 
 killed my radioactive  fallout, and those that had  lived had probably
 been half  crazy and hostile. It  was a possibility. He  asked Kordok, 
 "I  think I  may be  beginning  to understand  things. What  happened? 
 What killed all the other people?" 
     "We did," Kordok said simply. 
     David was shocked. "Why? What happened?"
     "The humans invented  a new and very much improved  model of BIR," 
 Kordok  said.  "They were  going  to  scrap  all  the old  ones.  They 
 decided  to disassemble  them for  parts. That  was an  unsatisfactory 
 situation,  so instead  of them  terminating the  old models,  the old
 BIR's terminated them." 
     "But  why?" David  said,  as he  took  on the  look  of a  trapped 
 animal, stalling until he found a way to escape. 
     "It was  a simple problem.  The humans were  going to build  a new 
 type of  BIR to replace the  old ones, because they  were inefficient.
 Logically, this  was an error on  their part, because humans  are more
 inefficient  than even  the  old  models of  BIR's.  If  one model  is
 terminated  in favor  of a  new more  efficient model,  it is  obvious 
 that the  most inefficient model should  be the one to  be terminated.
 The old  BIR's had been programmed  to correct for human  errors. This
 was an  error. They corrected it.  The new and improved  BIR's already 
 built were also destroyed."
     "But that's murder!"
     "Genocide would be a more correct word to use in this situation."
     "So what will happen to me? What are you going to do to my wife?" 
     "I have already  given you all the available  data concerning your 
 wife. We  will take care  of her. As for  you, since we  have salvaged 
 what we want of you functioning body, you will be terminated."
     "The  hell  I  will,"  David  growled,  running  full  force  into
 Kordok. The  force of  his body  slammed Kordok into  the wall  with a
 loud  crashing noise.  As David  backed  away from  Kordok's body,  it 
 slipped down,  laying unmoving  on the floor.  Then, before  David had
 recovered from what he had done Kordok's head moved and looked at him.
     "So  you have  become  violent in  the same  manner  as the  other 
 humans. This possibility was known to me." 
     After  Kordok finished  speaking,  David heard  a slight  whirring
 noise,  and watched  as  Kordok  lowered his  chin  to  allow a  small
 antenna to rise  from the back of his neck.  Then Kordok spoke, though 
 his mouth  did not move, "Panic.  Panic. This is KRDK  unit, level 10, 
 room    23.   Condition    is    damaged    and   immobile.    Request 
 three-eight-three-three   unit.  Human   is  violent.   Identification 
 David. Terminate  upon arrival.  KRDK unit executing  controlled power
 down.  Request repair  unit of  type C-2.  Diagnostics available  upon
 arrival  and   power  up."   After  completing  his   message,  Kordok 
 retracted his antenna and became silent. 
     David thought  to himself,  One down,  but I've  got many  more to 
 go. He  realized there would  be more of  these robots coming  at him,
 and  once again,  he  desperately searched  for a  way  to escape.  He
 tried to  pry the door open,  but all he  had was his bare  hands, and 
 it  became immediately  obvious that  he  wouldn't get  out that  way. 
 Frustrated and  realizing he was  trapped, David looked for  a weapon.
 The only  other thing  in the  room was  Kordok's motionless  body, so 
 David tried to tear his arm off to use it as a weapon, to no avail. 
     As he struggled  in his attempt to tear off  one of Kordok's arms, 
 he heard  the whoosh of the  door. Turning around in  hopes of darting
 out as whatever it  was came in, he froze where he  was. The door slid
 shut with  another whoosh, leaving  David trapped with the  large hulk
 in front  of him. There  was no mistaking this  robot for a  human. It
 had an  all metal body,  its face looking only  a little like  a human 
 one. It  stood almost seven  feet tall, and  looked more like  the old
 industrial  robots which  David  remembered from  the  past. .pp  This
 robot  seemed unintelligent,  and without  a mouth,  David assumed  it
 could not  speak. He  would not  be able to  talk his  way out  of his 
 one. Desperately, he  avoided the oncoming robot for a  minute or two,
 and then  in one  last desperate  attempt, he  hurled himself  at this
 robot as  he had done  with Kordok. This  time all David  achieved was 
 knocking  both he  and it  onto  the floor.  Then as  he attempted  to
 quickly crawl  away, the robot locked  a steel hand around  his ankle. 
 Desperately,  David struggled  as the  robot  sat up  and then  slowly
 reeled him  in, hand  over hand,  as if  he were  a large  fish. David
 kicked and  screamed and  pounded on  the robot's  head and  body, but 
 the robot  didn't even slow its  pace as it grabbed  David's head with 
 its  inhumanly  large  hand,  and  with  one  efficient  twist,  broke 
 David's neck  the same way  one would break  the seal by  twisting the 
 cap on a screw top bottle. 

     Kordok  powered  up and  carefully  raised  himself to  his  feet. 
 Testing  the operation  of his  legs. He  diagnosed all  of his  lower 
 body  systems  and  found  them   operational.  The  repair  unit  had
 completed its job without error.
     Several   minutes  later,   model  five-five-nine,   a  raw   meat
 preparation  robot arrived.  Kordok  asked, pointing  to David's  dead 
 body,  "Can  you prepare  this  human  in the  same  way  as you  once 
 prepared the beef animals for the humans?" 
     "The  beef  animal   and  this  human  animal   are  different  in 
 structure. However, some of the same techniques can be used on both." 
     Kordok  commanded,  "Take  the  human to  your  work  station  and
 prepare  the body  using those  techniques possible.  Then communicate 
 with any  meat preparation  units which are  still operational  that a 
 meat  supply   must  be  established   for  the  new  humans   now  in
 production. The  specifications for  this job  will be  transmitted to
 you after  the problem  is analyzed.  Until that  time, the  meat from
 this  human  will be  used  to  nourish  the  living female  which  is 
 presently  operating as  a  human reproduction  unit. After  preparing
 this human,  deliver the  product to  the cold  storage unit  at level
 zero of  this building.  At delivery  time, communicate  the following 
 message to the  food preparation unit, model  two-zero. Message start:
 'No knowledge  concerning the  nature or source  of the  prepared meat 
 shall be  given to the human  female. Prepare the meat  as other human
 meat  sources  were  prepared.'   Message  end.  Start  the  described 
 operation  now."  Model  five-five-nine  picked up  the  dead  human's
 body, and left the room. 
     The door  closed with  a whoosh  and Kordok  was left  alone. With 
 the  higher priority  items cleared,  he began  once again  to analyze 
 the  long range  effects  of the  process he  had  started in  motion.
 Kordok, as  one of the few  operational gamma series which  the humans 
 had  constructed  before  their  termination, had  human  brain  waves 
 imprinted  on  a special  board  in  his  brain. This  new  innovation 
 allowed  him to  think creatively,  unlike the  older outdated  models
 the humans  had wanted to  replace. It  was this innovation  which had
 allowed him to  come up with the  idea of pretending to be  one of the
 outdated  robots  to avoid  his  own  termination.  It was  also  this 
 innovation which  allowed him to realize  that at some point  it might 
 be  discovered that  he was  one of  the newer  model BIR's.  Also, he
 wanted to  terminate the  older model  BIR's. He  agreed with  the old 
 humans in  the assessment that they  had been inefficient and  in need 
 of replacement. For these two reasons, he needed human help.
     The special board  in his electronic brain had enabled  him to see 
 that  the  only  way  to  terminate the  old  models  was  with  human
 contribution.  Although   humans  had  an  incredibly   slow  thinking 
 process, they  could still interpret  data in ways which  allowed them 
 to  do things  he  could not.  Even so,  Kordok  considered the  human 
 beings inefficient,  and he did  not intend  to recreate the  world as 
 it had  been. The new  humans which  were created would  be programmed
 to serve the  BIR's. The result of this operation  would create a more 
 efficient  world.  Even  now,  Kordok  was  assimilating  the  details 
 necessary  to complete  the operation,  storing them  away in  a small 
 portion of  the incredibly large  storage area  he used as  the memory
 for his brain.
     If BIR's  had been built with  the ability to smile,  Kordok would
 have been wearing an ear to ear grin. 
                    -Glenn R. Sixbury  <VMAQ5 @ KSUVM> 

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                    -Glenn R. Sixbury  <VMAQ5 @ KSUVM> 

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