Network Effect (The Murderbot Diaries, #5)

by Martha Wells

I’ve also had clients who thought they didn’t need any security at all, right up until something ate them. (That’s mostly a metaphor. My uneaten client stat is high.)

The superstructure above me was triangular, angled back in a way to make it faster or something, I don’t know, I’m a murderbot, I don’t give a crap about boats.

Yes, I’m fine, I’d sent her over the feed. It’s a good thing I don’t bleed like a human because hostile marine fauna was about all this situation needed. I’ve got everything under fucking control, okay. “No, it says it’s fine,” I heard her relaying to the others on our comm. “Well, yes, it’s furious.”)

I’d already had FacilitySys prepare a translation for me, the only sentence I figured I’d need. I said, “Make a noise, and everybody dies.”

Target Two whispered something, which FacilitySys rendered as “What are you?” I said, “I’m a Shut Up or Get Your Head Smashed.”

the last one went down flailing, hand closing convulsively on his weapon’s trigger and shooting me right in the chest. For fuck’s sake.

“Are you trying to make me feel better?” “No.” I actually wasn’t. I lie to humans a lot, but not to Arada, not about this. “I wouldn’t try to make you feel better. You know what I’m like.”

“No hugging,” I warned her. It was in our contract. “Do you need emotional support? Do you want me to call someone?”

What do humans say in this situation? A quick archive search came up with some variation on “okay, um” and even I knew that wasn’t going to cut it.

I try to avoid asking humans if there’s anything wrong with them. (Mostly because I don’t care.) (On the rare occasions where I did care, it would have meant starting a conversation not directly related to security protocol, and that was just a slippery slope waiting to happen, for a variety of reasons.)

There was some strange system where they all got their food and shelter and education and medical for free, no matter what job they did.

Just clients. And if anyone or anything tried to hurt them, I would rip its intestines out.

I had a plan, but it was mostly “keep the hostiles off the ship,” which is not so much a plan as a statement of hopeful intent.

Ugh, self-determination sucks sometimes.

I heard Ratthi yell, “No, No!” through my drone audio. His voice was harsh with fury, fear. The impulse to run to him made me flinch, but I needed to hold my position.

On the feed, I said, calmly, Acknowledged, I’ll find them. SHIT.

This was a point where if I was a human (ick) I might have laughed. I decided to go with my first inclination and kill the shit out of some ass-faced hostiles instead.

I tore the energy weapon out of Target Two’s hand along with a few fingers, stabbed the weapon into its chest (it didn’t have a sharp end but I made do) and ripped a large hole.

I gently peeled her small hand off my jacket and said, “Never touch me again.”

“Why is it doing that?” Ras asked Amena. She stared blankly at him, then said, “SecUnit, why are you doing that?”

(Corporations didn’t actually invent space and planets, despite the patents the company had tried to file.)

You know, it’s not like I’m half-assing this, I am actually trying my best despite the fuck-ups.

“If you’re not angry, then what’s wrong?” I was definitely glaring now. “How do you want the list sorted? By time stamp or degree of survivability?”

I had cleaned off all the blood and fluid with the hygiene unit but was too angry to take a shower. (Showers are nice and I wanted to stay angry.)

“Anyone who thinks machine intelligences don’t have emotions needs to be in this very uncomfortable room right now.”

I said, I apologize for calling you a fucker. It said, I apologize for kidnapping you and causing potential collateral damage to your clients.

“Can I ask you a question?” I never know how to answer this. Should I go with my first impulse, which is always “no” or just give in to the inevitable?

ART must be recovering because it had to butt in with, Tell her you care about her. Use those words, don’t tell her you’ll eviscerate anything that tries to hurt her. ART, fuck off.

(Normal = neutral expression concealing existential despair and brain-crushing boredom.)

Ratthi had said, “I think you should let it go for a while, at least until we get ourselves out of this situation. SecUnit is a very private person, it doesn’t like to discuss its feelings.” This is why Ratthi is my friend.)

ART replied, only to me, It is safer. I’ve lost my crew, I won’t lose you. Amena said, not helpfully, “Your face just got really weird. Are you all right?”