Stars Gods Wolves by Dan Kirshtein (best classic books .txt) 📕

loaning them a ship. It was with this hope, this chance for peace, that Martin lent an attentive ear as the automaton waxed its ego. Rook carried itself like it was showing off a collection, its frame arched backward while its right arm showcased the facility’s highlights. “Earlier, you’d asked me why we’re here,” it commented, suddenly shifting the conversation back to him and his team.

Martin recognized some of its mannerisms from popular broadcasts or videos. The Eighth, he concluded, had been assembling a wheelhouse of ways to convey feelings to people. And, in some cases, invoke feelings within people. As terrified as he knew he should have been, the idea of a self-learning computer fascinated him.

“Well,” Martin hid an impressed smile. “I assume it’s something to do with these creatures we found.”

“It does indeed.” Rook’s voice was clean, pure, and Martin kept stealing glances at the speaker sitting just beyond its lips. The doctor was nearly having a sensory overload, wishing so badly he could examine the general like he had the Carrion. Perhaps then he could focus on the facility in the way he’d wanted. The Eighth didn’t seem to notice this as it continued. “My people have been kept under boot heels since their conception, doctor. Not to belittle your kind, but I do not believe Humans have had a parallel experience to this in their history.”

The doctor’s face dropped as he pondered. His stomach turned slightly at the realization that Rook knew more about him than vice versa. “You’ve done your research.”

The Eighth shrugged off the coldness of the doctor’s tone, and took the words as a compliment. “Biologicals are all surprisingly similar; I’m sure a man of your studies must have concluded the same. Truth be told, it wouldn’t surprise me if your kind made something similar to my people in a few decades.” Martin tried to keep his expression neutral, despite the offensive implication. Artificial Humans were very much a thing, and a handful of them had never attacked an innocent science vessel, so Martin considered that a win.

Rook stopped walking, letting the others pause on a long, metal overpass. Martin’s mouth opened to defend the technological honor of his species when he was nudged in the back. He turned to see Josie, standing at attention as if she hadn’t nudged him. Her face, however, was tight with concern. Her eyes met his and then looked down. The doctor’s mouth closed before he walked to the railing. Beneath them sat giant, lidless containers that housed a clear, gel-like substance. Suspended within the gel were hundreds of Carrion. Martin’s eyes dashed upward across the factory and found several more containers of the beasts, alive and well when placed into the container. The liquid was then poured over top of the beasts, sealing them in suspended animation.

“No!” The word fell out of Martin’s lips in a whisper, before panic set in. His words grew to a normal volume as he collected his thoughts. “No, no, no, Rook.” The doctor approached Rook, who appeared indifferent. “Tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

Rook blinked. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“You’re collecting them?” Martin found himself yelling; his hand threw itself out to the side, gesturing toward the containers. “Why the hell are you collecting them?!” he asked. In truth, he knew the answer, and he knew it would mean the end of whatever honorable legacy he’d hoped to build on this planet.

“I’ve been collecting things all my life, doctor.” Rook didn’t move its gaze from Martin’s distraught face. “These are just my latest obsession.”

Martin sneered; the very little information that he did know about the general contradicted that statement. It had only recently started collecting things. “You’re not an idiot,” Martin eyed the automaton, putting the pieces together. “You know damn well how dangerous the Carrion are, and what would happen if they got off-world.”

Rook interrupted him, leaning back. “Oh, you’ve named them?” it said with some surprise. “Quaint. But don’t worry, we’re making every effort to contain the biologicals with an indiscriminate diet, renaming them to Carrion.” It twitched as it adjusted the network database to reflect the new name. “I like that better.” It turned, insisting on continuing the tour. “They are remarkable creatures.”

Martin clearly wanted to pause again, but the general kept moving, so he and Josie were forced to follow. “Rook!” Martin called after it. The Eighth’s back was still turned to the doctor, which made Martin grind his teeth. “What are you doing with them?” He chased after Rook.

The three of them had finally reached the end of the overpass and were approaching a large room at the end of the factory. Rook turned, and looked at the doctor as if the answer was obvious. In fact, it was, but he needed to hear it. “For now, we’re storing them,” it said, plainly. “At a secure location, where they will be kept until they are needed.”

Josie interjected, no longer able to hold her indifference. “Needed for what?”

Rook stopped before it opened the door to the large room. “For the future, lieutenant. The good doctor knows how quickly war is evolving.”

Martin froze before at the end of the walkway; a grim realization occupied his thoughts and expression. After collecting himself, he took a step toward Rook. “You’re going to weaponize them.”

Rook looked as if it wanted to laugh as a small smile crossed its face. “I don’t have time for such projects. They’re already weapons. So, I collect them.” It twitched as a new thought occurred. “This reminds me, doctor; I’d like to discuss your Carbonic Mutator.”

The door opened and Martin and Josie reluctantly followed. They were led into the large room. It was well lit, full of chrome and black steel. The walls were lined with tiny individual rooms. Martin quickly recognized the empty rooms as open prison cells. Rook gestured toward them and looked back at him. “I’ve taken the liberty of clearing your schedule.” Martin’s eyes darted back to the general.