Part 5
To the outermost planet of the System of Sirius the great machine fled. For years it remained there waiting, thinking. Then at last it called its worker machines into action. A new machine grew up from the stores of metal that the space ship had brought with it, at last the metal was used up, and the machine was not completed, so the space-flyer was sacrificed for the completion of the machine. The new machine was started. From its lip-like spout there poured a steady smooth stream of molten metal, and the rock on which it rested was eaten away. The first transmuting metal producer was made.
Decades passed, and only a small percentage of man developed. The rest sank deeper and deeper into a life of ease. The planets were all explored by the hardy ones, and no trace of the brain-machine was ever found, for it had discovered the Dis ray, and sunk deep into the ground, hollowing a great cave to live and work in.
* * * * *
But back on that planet, the scientists had developed machines that surpassed it in power, and finally one of these picked up a thought message from that distant machine that told its story. It was a thought that had not been consciously radiated, only the marvelous sensitivity of this new machine could have detected it, but now the men knew. It was too late to do much to prevent it, for they had no weapons. But the machine did. It was preparing to drive man from the planets, to rule there in his stead, with a population of machines!
The scientists quickly built a great space-flyer, a gigantic machine of over ten miles diameter, a huge sphere. And in that they established laboratories, workshops, machines, and living quarters. They took with them the finest men and women of their race, and sailed out into space, taking an orbit about the sun of Sirius. They were comfortable there in an equitable temperature, their ship lighted by the sun on one side, and dark on the other, steadily revolving on its axis like a miniature world. The foods of the people were chemically prepared, for the brain-machines had taught them how. The air was repurified constantly by machines that regulated the percentage of the gases to the thousandth of one per cent. But the entire ship was painted black. It could not be discovered floating there in space, so tiny in the vastness of a system!
It was two weeks after they sailed that the machine-brain attacked. It sailed out of its hiding place with thousands of great ships, armed with Dis rays and with explosives, with heat rays and attractor beams. The population of those worlds was wiped out in a week, and the rule of the Metal Horde began.
The original brain built other brain-machines to direct its affairs on other planets, and to do the work it did not wish to do itself.
For nearly a century those men lived in space, making swift forays on a planet with a fleet of cargo ships, that revolved about the main ship like satellites when they were not being used. In these trips they would bring back tons of rock, and leave most of it stored in the ships, dumping them into the reservoir of the parent ship when it was needed.
Then a swift ship was developed. A ship that could start and stop more quickly than any made before--a ship with acceleration neutralizers. But the machine brains of the Metal Horde never learned the secret. With a small fleet of these, the men drove an attack at the unprotected main brain-machine. There were no men known to live in the system. No other known machine could move without the knowledge of that main machine, but these could. They too had the Dis ray now, and they destroyed the main brain-machine. They were lost in the ensuing fight, but that machine was destroyed.
All the remaining machines were equally powerful. Any one of them could have built a brain-machine that could easily conquer the others--but it too would have to bow to its creator. They fought it out. The men had known this would be the result.
It was a war such as the system had never before seen. Each force was equal, and could not ally itself with any other, for the machines could not lie or state other than their thoughts, and each wanted supreme power. They developed new weapons, weapons whose strength lay in their number. One by one the machine brains had gone down to defeat, the men of that ship helping to disturb the balance of forces by ever so little, yet always enough to throw one side down to defeat, yet always remaining in hiding. At last there remained but one machine-brain, and its weakened force necessitated its return to the devastated planet. With the destruction of the other brain-machines, the remaining machines that they had previously controlled, automatically obeyed the new master as perfectly as they did the old.
They returned to find a new fleet awaiting them. But it was not a vast fleet such as they had encountered before. At once the torpedo-ship machines settled to the ground and began turning out their weapons. But it was all over before they could enter as an important factor. These ships had a new weapon. It was a ball of glowing blue light that was driven along a beam of some vibration, and as it touched any ship, the ship instantly volatized so suddenly as to constitute an explosion. The balls of light lasted about a minute and a half each, but were replaced as quickly as they were used. When they were finally used, they would die down to a dull red glow, then suddenly wink out. They could be swept from one ship to another, taking toll of ten or twelve ships each, and the beam that guided them could drive them with the speed of light and supply an infinite acceleration. They were glowing balls of concentrated energy of some sort, and as such could travel with the speed of light.
But they were effective to the _nth_ degree. The entire fleet of that one remaining brain-machine would have been lost, but it retired into space, racing away at top speed, out into space, with the remaining remnant of its great fleet.
And sixteen hundred years it had raced across space, to be destroyed at last by another race of men. The battle was over, and the machine awaited its destruction.
We rayed it out of existence. It was too great a menace to keep.
Some people still do not believe that those Sirians were truly machines. They can not believe that a machine can have intelligence, but certainly Waterson's calculating machine has intelligence of a sort. And they ask, what would a machine want to exist for? It would have no aim, nothing to perform. Why should it want to live, or exist?
We might ask what it is human beings want to live for. If there is an after-life, it is certainly not that that we live for. I am sure no man wants to die. Yet what aim have we? What function must we perform? Why should we wish to live? Our life is a constant struggle, the machines, at least, had eliminated that. There seems to me no reason why a machine should want to live, but certainly it has less reason to pass out of existence than we have!
That war was destructive--terribly so. But it has brought its compensations. More than fifteen million human beings lost their lives in that great struggle, either in the battles in space, or caught in the Dis rays during that battle on Venus.
But those fifteen millions have died a painless death, and twenty billions live because of their sacrifice. And it was not a vain sacrifice. We have learned much in return. No machines man ever made equaled the machines we captured there on Mars. And man will never experiment on the lines of the machine-brain. He has been warned. The brain-machine we captured was destroyed without investigation. The machines we use, the wonderful worker machines, have been modified to permit of radio control.
And Stephen Waterson's discovery of the de-activating field not only helps in law enforcement, but makes war with material energy impossible. No, in all, we have lost little.
Mars lost its cities, its forests, its ancient civilization. New cities are being built on the modern plan, larger, finer, more beautiful; the forests are being replaced; but the records, the relics of a civilization have been lost forever. In that we have lost much. Though all moveable things were moved when the warning came, there was much that could not be moved. The great palace of Horlak San was destroyed, but it is being rebuilt in the exact spot, in exactly the same manner. It is a worth-while project, but there is much which cannot be restored.
It will be eleven more years before we will know whether we can ever communicate with the Sirian men. The speed of light is too low for rapid communication, and as the first signals were sent out in September, 1961, and it is now September, 1968, the signals are not due to reach Sirius for two years more. Then it will be 1979 before we can hope to receive their reply. I often wonder if they will ever get those signals. I can remember distinctly the recoil of the great projector as the mighty surges of light flashed out across the universe. It seemed like some great gun--the back pressure of the light was so great. And what will those replies tell us? It is interesting to speculate on that subject.
The End