Artificial intelligence -- Fiction; Science fiction; War stories
Now from the sides of the great transports came, not men, but great
machines, machines that lumbered along on caterpillar treads to set
themselves down beside their parent ship, one from each ship, and
proceeded to dig themselves in, about three feet deep. Then all seemed
quiet, except for a steady hum from the great machines, fifty-eight
in all there were, great machines--fully two-hundred feet on a side.
They worked there quietly now, and the men within them must have been
totally covered, for they could not be seen. Apparently the Sirians
dared not come out into the Martian atmosphere. And now something was
happening that startled all the billions of watchers on the three
planets. In the top of the great machines was a small trapdoor. Through
this, there came a torpedo-ship that floated up a few feet, then darted
off to join the wheeling machines above. Then eleven seconds later
another came forth--another--each machine there was sending them out
now. One by one those machines released a torpedo-boat--one every
eleven seconds, with the regularity of a clock.
At first men could not grasp the significance of this--but soon it
became obvious. These wonderful machines were complete factories in
themselves, portable, mass production factories for producing those
torpedo-ships, and one each eleven seconds came from the end of the
production line, complete. The noises there were no longer a gentle
hum. There was a whir and rattle of machines. It was not loud, though
considering the mighty works that must have been going on inside. But
steadily now, that darting fleet of torpedo-ships was increasing the
power for all this work was obvious to these men who used similar
processes in their work.
From the soil below them the machines dug masses of matter, and
carrying it up into the machine transmuted its elements, into
the elements necessary to their machines, then molded them, and
automatically assembled them. It would require very little supervision,
but that production-rate was staggering! One each eleven seconds meant
325 completed machines an hour.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account