Author: Hillary Lyon

“Few have been allowed access to our compound,” Vara said, motioning to the assembly line churning before them.

Yoff marveled at the glorious machinations of this factory. The choreographed sweep of the robot arms, the perfectly regimented twist and thrust of setting each gleaming piece in its proper place—it was all so thrilling. Such creation is an almost religious experience, Yoff decided.

They continued their tour of the factory, from watching the sorting of multitudinous parts to reviewing the final product. Vara spoke at length about the sturdy construction and composure of the resulting bots, both physically and computationally. Yoff hardly listened; his attention had been snagged by one bot toward the end of the line. A different-looking one.

Yoff nodded to the odd bot. “What’s with this one?” He moved closer to the bot, to better examine it in detail. “There’s something off about it.” Yoff poked the material sheathing its frame; it was soft and elastic. “This isn’t silicon.”

“No,” Vara began nervously. “This is an experimental unit. One of the geniuses in R&D wanted to see how flesh would do as a covering.” If Yoff was displeased, funding for the factory might be pulled. Employing a more confident and soothing tone, Vara continued. “So far, the result has been objectively pleasing, as you can see.”

“Yes,” Yoff murmured thoughtfully. “But how practical is this? Isn’t flesh more…fragile?”

“True, it takes more upkeep, but we can pack ten times the number of sensors into flesh than we can silicon. Now we can immediately monitor temperature, both external and internal. Now we can detect damage such as tears and punctures—even scratches—right away.”

“Internally, the frame is not titanium, but calcium-based. If cracked or broken, it will heal itself,” Vara chattered excitedly; this experimental bot was actually his idea. “Furthermore, all its internal filters, tubes, wires, and processors have been created out of lab-grown meat!” Vara beamed; he was one proud papa. “And it all works.”

Emboldened, Vara continued. “They consume organic matter for fuel—matter found almost everywhere. What’s more, we’ve finally figured out how, if we have two of these odd bots, they’ll reproduce! Without any assistance from us. It’s amazing!”

“Organic bots,” Yoff said more to himself than to Vara. “Soft machines.” A world of possibilities opened before him. “We’ll keep this bot,” he said as he turned away from Vara. signaling the tour was complete “The Board of Directors will want to see this.”

* * *

“Machines making machines has been the way of the world for eons,” Yoff began, eyeing the members of the board assembled before him. “Legend has it, if you recall, that biologicals did the very same thing, back in the dark shadows of distant history. At a time when our species was incipient—merely wind-up toys.”

The Board Members nodded, remembering their primary cultural programming. They hardly noticed the draped figure behind Yoff.

“Our lineage has become stagnant, predictable,” Yoff continued. The board members grumbled, grinding their gears at this observation. “Distinguished members, we have reached a turning point. If we want to evolve, we must remember the dictum: The only constant…” Yoff unveiled the odd bot. “. . .is change.”

He turned to the silky-skinned bot. She moved forward a step, graceful, smiling. Each and every Board Member suddenly understood they, and all their kind, were now obsolete. With this acknowledgment, their processor lights faded and died—not to be reignited for a thousand years. When the biologicals would rebuild them.