The puppeteer is right," said Speaker. "I would not risk the tasp again. Too many jolts of pleasure would leave me his willing slave. I, a Kzin, enslaved to a herbivore!
“Lot ninety-seven,” the auctioneer announced. “A boy.”
I have no need for a protocol droid.
The locker door slid open with a quiet hum, revealing a storage room filled with sleeping machines, everything from foot-sized dust sweepers to the lumbering droids that worked the outer hull.
Yes, it made sense, and was so absurdly simple that it would take a genius to think of it. And, perhaps, someone who did not expect to do it himself
The thing proceeded to the front of the class and did some fancy mathematics at the blackboard.
“Er,” said Buddy, “that’s my robot.”
A robot could no more commit murder than a human could… walk on water.
Well, you know, there was this one guy, very long ago…
“Ah, yes. I recall from your file that you are some sort of theist,” said the Emperor. “I am an atheist, myself. A simple faith, but a great comfort to me, in these last days.”
What do you mean by that? Why do you guys hate me? Can we cook up some sausages? Ohh I have wasps in my brain!
I’ve seen the recording he provided to Captain Zilwicki, and I’ll see to it you get a copy, as well—that the nanotech has to be specifically engineered for its target. They have to get their hands on a sample of the target’s genetic material, then build the nannies around that material. If McBryde’s right about that, that’s almost certainly the primary reason no forensic examination has turned up any evidence of it. It breaks down almost instantly after completing its function, and it’s all tagged as a legitimate component of the target’s own body.
There were nanites at work, too, microscopically reconstituting any systems that had rotted or corroded since the last time such repairs had been made.
He was brilliant, but as we became close he began to suspect that I wasn’t telling him everything. He heard rumors about what was called the Pym Particles, and he became obsessed with recreating my formula. But I wouldn’t help him so he conspired against me and he voted me out of my own company.
Hell, based on those sources, the woman had to be at least five meters tall, and she probably picked her teeth with a light cruiser!
They were jumped by three light cruisers, though they weren’t a match for one.
We found that Miscreet ship abandoned three days after the battle–a light cruiser from the look of her, just drifting way out between suns.
Their civilization was in decline, and so they abandoned their world seeking a cure for their own mortality. Their endless journey brought them to a small, blue world in the farthest corner of the galaxy.
Congratulations, another one of your genius plans has backfired on you!
The world’s smartest man poses no more threat to me than does its smartest termite.
Let’s play buggers and astronauts!
Astronauts are inherently insane. And really noble.