that, they took possession of one of the robots instead, and in that way successfully communicated in private with our no doubt very surprised Warden Cirvik.”
“How’d they learn to speak English through a robot?” Hurley asked.
“I’m sure they haven’t learned English. A robot they use as a medium is articulating—translating—their thoughts.”
“Remarkable,” Conant said. “Their intelligence is staggering!”
“Frightening,” Ploss corrected.
“Now, I wasn’t privy to whatever discourse Cirvik and this collective had,” Zaleski said, “and he didn’t tell me everything, I’m certain of it. But I do know his main thrust was to placate them.”
“He mustn’t have placated too well,” Stake said, “if prisoners continued to die.”
“Was it still trying to use a human being as a medium?” Conant asked.
Hurley ventured, “Do you think it’s feeding on their souls, or life force, or something? Their energy?”
Zaleski shook his head. “Cirvik was afraid the colony would grow and become godlike…but what he did, in a way, was to teach it to be a god.”
“How so?” Conant asked.
“By feeding the monster sacrifices.” Zaleski paused a moment for them to digest that. “Their fury is great. You know how frustrated and angry our own prisoners get. They need to lash out at something. That’s why they form opposing gangs, kill and rape each other: as an outlet for their rage. Maybe Cirvik lied and told the collective he’d try to talk to his superiors about freeing them from the pocket. Maybe he promised he’d look into moving the prison to a new pocket and shutting this one down. I don’t know entirely what he said to try to keep them from killing us all; I’m just extrapolating here. What I do know is that Cirvik wanted me to help him understand the nature of the monster, and how we might consider destroying it.”
“Did you have any ideas?” Ploss asked.
“No. And…and to be honest, I was afraid to suggest anything.”
“Afraid?”
“You never know when this thing is watching us,” Zaleski said, lowering his voice to a whisper to emphasize his point. “I was afraid of the monster discovering I meant it any harm.”
“So it was better to just sit back and let it go on killing prisoners, huh?” Stake said.
“Are you bleeding for them, Mr. Stake?” Zaleski retorted.
“You don’t think what’s happening is wrong?”
“Do you think these prisoners haven’t done wrong? Every man who’s been killed by the monster has been a murderer himself. One of those men gunned down a clerk and four innocent customers in a convenience store robbery. There’s your same body count right there!”
“So was Cirvik actually assigning victims to this thing?” Conant asked, incredulous.
“I believe he was.”
“I still don’t understand why !” Ploss said.
Zaleski explained, “The monster’s rage is a volcano that Cirvik was throwing sacrifices into every time it rumbled. Killing alleviates its fury. It must feel…vindicated when it obliterates a victim like that. For a while, at least. But when its level of pain becomes unbearable again, it needs another ‘fix’ of violent expression to vent its emotion. It may be a safety valve; not so much devised by Cirvik to give its rage direction—instead of simply killing us all—but a safety valve the monster has imposed on itself.”
“Because?” Ploss prompted.
“Because maybe it doesn’t really want to kill all of us. Maybe it’s been trying to keep its rage under control as best it could. But now…it seems like that control is fraying. It’s been fired upon, attacked, for the first time. And now with Cirvik dead there’s no telling what will happen. It may no longer be able to restrain itself. It is, after all, apparently a mass of angry individuals trying to hold it together as one rational, intelligent entity. It might very well be greatly conflicted with itself. Like any governing body.”
“Cirvik
“How’d they learn to speak English through a robot?” Hurley asked.
“I’m sure they haven’t learned English. A robot they use as a medium is articulating—translating—their thoughts.”
“Remarkable,” Conant said. “Their intelligence is staggering!”
“Frightening,” Ploss corrected.
“Now, I wasn’t privy to whatever discourse Cirvik and this collective had,” Zaleski said, “and he didn’t tell me everything, I’m certain of it. But I do know his main thrust was to placate them.”
“He mustn’t have placated too well,” Stake said, “if prisoners continued to die.”
“Was it still trying to use a human being as a medium?” Conant asked.
Hurley ventured, “Do you think it’s feeding on their souls, or life force, or something? Their energy?”
Zaleski shook his head. “Cirvik was afraid the colony would grow and become godlike…but what he did, in a way, was to teach it to be a god.”
“How so?” Conant asked.
“By feeding the monster sacrifices.” Zaleski paused a moment for them to digest that. “Their fury is great. You know how frustrated and angry our own prisoners get. They need to lash out at something. That’s why they form opposing gangs, kill and rape each other: as an outlet for their rage. Maybe Cirvik lied and told the collective he’d try to talk to his superiors about freeing them from the pocket. Maybe he promised he’d look into moving the prison to a new pocket and shutting this one down. I don’t know entirely what he said to try to keep them from killing us all; I’m just extrapolating here. What I do know is that Cirvik wanted me to help him understand the nature of the monster, and how we might consider destroying it.”
“Did you have any ideas?” Ploss asked.
“No. And…and to be honest, I was afraid to suggest anything.”
“Afraid?”
“You never know when this thing is watching us,” Zaleski said, lowering his voice to a whisper to emphasize his point. “I was afraid of the monster discovering I meant it any harm.”
“So it was better to just sit back and let it go on killing prisoners, huh?” Stake said.
“Are you bleeding for them, Mr. Stake?” Zaleski retorted.
“You don’t think what’s happening is wrong?”
“Do you think these prisoners haven’t done wrong? Every man who’s been killed by the monster has been a murderer himself. One of those men gunned down a clerk and four innocent customers in a convenience store robbery. There’s your same body count right there!”
“So was Cirvik actually assigning victims to this thing?” Conant asked, incredulous.
“I believe he was.”
“I still don’t understand why !” Ploss said.
Zaleski explained, “The monster’s rage is a volcano that Cirvik was throwing sacrifices into every time it rumbled. Killing alleviates its fury. It must feel…vindicated when it obliterates a victim like that. For a while, at least. But when its level of pain becomes unbearable again, it needs another ‘fix’ of violent expression to vent its emotion. It may be a safety valve; not so much devised by Cirvik to give its rage direction—instead of simply killing us all—but a safety valve the monster has imposed on itself.”
“Because?” Ploss prompted.
“Because maybe it doesn’t really want to kill all of us. Maybe it’s been trying to keep its rage under control as best it could. But now…it seems like that control is fraying. It’s been fired upon, attacked, for the first time. And now with Cirvik dead there’s no telling what will happen. It may no longer be able to restrain itself. It is, after all, apparently a mass of angry individuals trying to hold it together as one rational, intelligent entity. It might very well be greatly conflicted with itself. Like any governing body.”
“Cirvik
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