In the Next Life, Canto III, stanzas 335-338

“They think we’re God!” he shouted. “Holy cow!
I’ve gone from punching bag to Heaven’s king!
There’s no way anyone can stop us now.
Let’s give those orders and start conquering!

“Hey, wait a minute: Did you not deny
these things have human ethics? Who’s this One?
Does not religion indicate a tie?
This daughter—is she like Jehovah’s son?”

“That’s blasphemy! If you persist, you’ll roast!
And even if your faith is not in Christ,
I’ll thank you to respect that of your host.
Your talk is rude, no matter how it’s sliced.

“Now here’s your answer: Yes, they have a god.
They made one up to help them standardize
their pattern of response. They need a prod
to reinforce good habits, you realize.”

©2011 Louis A. Merrimac

In the Next Life, Canto III, stanzas 331-334

“Your brutes are still behind us,” he observed,
“and signaling to others we’ll soon meet.
You see them up there where the road is curved?
Can you interpret them, but stay discrete?”

Desiring not to validate his fear,
but certain that their motives were benign,
she flipped a switch to make a screen appear
that showed their talk in alphabetic sign.

“One’s daughter, please acknowledge,” they both read,
their voices slow and quiet as in prayer.
Then he deferred to her, and Esther said,
“Give us instructions, that we may prepare.

“Though we be mortals, who when dead
stay dead, and you are risen, all aware,
we worship you and humbly think our stead
entitles us to some small data share.”

Esther said: Reading the translation of the communications from the other carriers.
©2011 Louis A. Merrimac

In the Next Life, Canto III, stanzas 327-330

“My sister,” Ciral interjected, “chose
to be inactive over to be hurt.
From what you’ve said, an artificial rose
would smell the same as something grown in dirt.”

“Oh, yeah? Then fill your nostrils up with this:
Not all the carriers were self-inclined,
or not to the extent they’d be remiss
in making living space for humankind.

“And this is where the learning part comes in:
The parents brewed the tea the youngsters drank.
They’re of the group that thought it was a sin
to give self-interest a higher rank.

“There lies the difference: Their moral law
is ever-changing; ours is absolute.
Ours is the light of God that Moses saw,
while theirs is still the ethics of a brute.”

Inactive: I’m going with celibate on this one.

©2011 Louis A. Merrimac

In the Next Life, Canto III, stanzas 320-326

They turned onto the road and Ciral frowned.
“We’re being followed by my customers.”
Until then Esther had not looked around,
as was the practice of the insiders.

“Unless we’re mating, we have no concern
with other tubes,” she said, but stopping short.
“Forgive me, Mr. C, for sounding stern.
I must remember you’re not of our sort.”

“So even if you think you are pursued
by enemy machines you won’t respond?
Are you aware that they think we intrude?
Of tubes with pound signs they aren’t very fond.”

“You obviously know not what they are,
or are not, rather, for they are not we.
Only we sinners take a grudge that far.
A robot does not have that tendency.

“You talk as though they have their own desires.
They can’t; they only want what they were told.
We’ve given them the basis in their wires.
There’s not much variation from the mold.

“They’re made to learn, and learning can impart
a change in outlook; that much I’ll concede.
The motives they were given at the start
adapt to meet each situation’s need.

“I’ll give you an example,” and she gave
a story that was old yet plausible.
She told of carriers that tried to save
themselves by playing tricks when they were full.

When they were full: See the early part of Canto II, especially the 56 and 541 narratives. When the carriers learned how reproduction was taking place and how dangerous it was to the participants, some of them tried various ruses to defeat it.

©2011 Louis A. Merrimac

In the Next Life, Canto III, stanzas 315-319

And then she thought to ask the six four K:
“Sir, what are your intentions, if you please?”
All right, so what exactly did she say?
I wouldn’t know; I don’t speak Insidese.

“I’d like to take this rascal for a jaunt
while I become a super-hominid,
and then my spirit will return to haunt
those who would kill me, and who nearly did.”

He sounded less like Heaven’s messenger
and more like one who might have upward passed,
yet Ciral somehow still excited her.
No wonder, is it? She’d but to contrast.

By this time they were at the highway’s edge,
and Esther had to laugh at Ciral’s eyes,
for not unlike a baby bird in fledge,
he exercised new limbs with some surprise.

“Be quiet, girl; I need to concentrate.”
He couldn’t take the ridicule in stride.
She knew a weakness now, at any rate.
With prudence, she could prey upon his pride.

6 4 K: The $64,000 Question was an early television quiz show whose title came to mean the most important of a series of questions.

©2011 Louis A. Merrimac

In the Next Life, Canto III, stanzas 309-314

And so as soon as she’d removed the screws,
she dropped the panel just within her reach,
but out of his, as one with naught to lose
might leave a rowboat hidden by the beach.

With that in mind, she made the little snip
and others. Here a tighten, there a splice,
and then they were in motion. Get a grip!
Recover balance! This was not so nice.

“It’s dark,” he said, as he switched on the spots.
The day returned by quadrants all around.
She had to look, though knowing she’d see lots
of damaged corpses strewn about the ground

The smoke was clearing now, and nearby knelt
some half a dozen tubes. They had reclaimed
the humans from her ship, and Esther felt
relief, regret, and something yet unnamed.

Her relatives were safe; for that thank God,
but Esther could have joined them had she known.
And more than death, that they now lived abroad
increased her sense of being all alone.

Now she had Ciral, whom she could not lose.
Someone like this would not again appear,
so when he said again that she could choose,
she gave up them and then for him and here.

©2011 Louis A. Merrimac

In the Next Life, Canto III, stanzas 301-308

Once in the cockpit, she confessed her lack:
“It’s never been my job to run this craft.
There is no way to bring the pilots back.
So will you drive this thing yourself?” she laughed.

He emptied on the floor a bag of tools
and handed her a crude screwdriver blade.
“Don’t be too sure you’re following the rules
unless you know what game is being played.”

He pointed to a panel on the wall.
“Remove that piece and cut the yellow wire.”
She asked him for a scissors or an awl,
but got instead a sideways-cutting plier.

She’d wanted something sharper for defense,
for she was certain that he would attack.
The screwdriver—but he had too much sense.
As soon as she was done he took it back.

The panel—she could use it as a club,
but she would have to do it in advance.
And that eraser could give her a rub.
Until he struck, she wouldn’t take that chance.

And ere that happened, how could she be right?
Aware not what he’d done nor might yet do,
for all she knew, God might have seen her plight
and sent an angel down to see her through.

Unlikely? Sure. Romantic? Oh, you bet.
And though he didn’t look the dashing prince,
he blew away what she had thought she’d get.
It didn’t take much charming to convince.

©2011 Louis A. Merrimac