Story #251 - Lab Rats

Lab Rats

“Stop eating that,” I said, grabbing the raw hotdog from Donner just as he started to shove it into his mouth. He was one hell of a lab assistant, but I'd never seen him without something in his hand to snack on. Ordinarily, it was a nuisance, something I only had to worry about when I was conducting a sterile experiment. Now, his compulsive eating might get us both killed.

“I just want one!” He wailed. “I'm hungry!” Three days locked in the lab had turned the fat, curly-haired grad student into a blubbering mass, and I had to admit I wasn't doing much better myself. We'd been working on a standard set of experimental protocols when we'd heard the commotion outside, but hadn't been able to get out before they locked down the blast doors. Communication with the tactical team that showed up outside shortly after the alarm went off told us what had happened, and I have to admit I broke a few of my most expensive pieces of glassware after hearing the news.

I'd always warned Fransworth that tampering with robots was a bad idea – biology was his bet best, I told him, stick to what was natural. Apparently, he'd listened to part of what I'd said and managed to create a monster that might just be capable of destroying the human race. Fransworth never did anything half-ass.

“I still don't understand why you need hotdogs and I can't have any,” Donner said, sitting down heavily on the floor. My patience with the socially awkward young man was wearing thin, but I tried my best to slip into lecturing mode, keeping my tone measured and civil. If nothing else, it kept my mind off of the noises in the building.

“Think it through, Donner – you can figure it out. What makes Professor Fransworth's robot different from other ones you've seen?”

Donner's big face creased as he thought, and then he smiled. “They can detect humans.”

“Right,” I said with a small smile of encouragement, “and how is it that they do that?”

“By scanning for a biological process.”

“Which one?”

“Food digestion.”

“What specific kind of digestion?” I saw Donner's eyes light up.

“Meat!” He exclaimed.

“That's right,” I said, “Fransworth programmed his robots to detect the breakdown of animal protein in the human body, ostensibly as a way to better serve their masters. Unfortunately, something appears to have gone horribly wrong.”

“So if I'd eaten that hotdog...” Donner left the rest of the sentence hanging.

“The robot would have detected it and come down here to kill us.” I picked it up for him.

“We're dead!” He wailed. “Dead!”

I smacked him sharply across the mouth. “No, we're not – I sent you to get those damn hotdogs for a reason. We're not going down without a fight.”

“What?” His brows were drawn, and he was struggling not to cry. “How are we going to fight them?”

I gestured to the large beaker of greenish liquid I'd set up in the middle of the room. “Artificial, and incredibly potent stomach acid. I whipped it up while you were raiding the cafeteria. Once we dump the food you've brought back into the acid, a 'digestion' process will begin. With any luck, it'll draw Fransworth's robot down here.”

Donner nodded, following my line of reasoning at least that far, but his face took on a frightened cast as he reached the part where I was luring the robot to down to us. “Down here? But -”

I cut him off. “I didn't just put stomach acid in there, Donner. Five minutes after those hotdogs go into the acid, a second, more powerful chemical reaction is going to take place. Anything within ten yards of the beaker will be soaked in a concoction that's powerful enough to eat through titanium.” I grabbed two packages he'd brought with him and strode to the center of the room, emptying their contents into my beaker. It began to bubble furiously, and I ran back to Donner. “Get behind the bench!” I hissed.

It didn't take long for the robot to come crashing through the door. It looked harmless enough, only slightly taller than I was and no wider at the shoulders, but its eyes were wide and vacant, and with every step I could hear it mumbling to itself. “You have eaten too much, master, too much. I will save you. I will save you. Too much!”

Stopping in front of the beaker, Fransworth's creation stared down at it, obviously unsure of what to do. I could see the color of the solution shift from green to red, and I hit the floor, hands covering my ears. Donner did the same.

The detonation was thunderous, and I half-expected to see the robot go flying over our heads, but once the acid had settled all I could hear was a faint hiss as it began its deadly work. Standing, I had a smile on my face until I saw the thing, looking down at the remains of the beaker on the floor. Its metal skin had been ripped off in patches, and the bulk of its head was missing, a jagged piece of glass sticking out from one eye socket and slowly melting away as the acid took hold. Underneath the gray exterior, I could see the black of carbon nanotubes, a superstructure that had been protected by the work of the titanium above it.

“Master!” The robot cried, turning toward me. “You have eaten too much. Allow me to assist!” One of its hands came up, remaining fingers fused into a single spike. “This will not hurt. I will relieve the pressure. Remain still, and I will help.”

“Donner!” I bellowed as the young man struggled to his feet. “Run!”

- D