Narina shook her head bitterly. "So that this could have happened
sooner? Why?"
"Maybe if we had been busy together, we would not have spent time
building bigger and better machines against one another. Another thing,
Narina, our machines are equipped with all we know about fighting and
weapons. Had there been no strife--?"
A rumble came at the base of the building. Narina shuddered. "It's
coming for us," she said in a whisper.
"For what?"
Narina shrugged. She leaned forward and took his hand. "I don't know,"
she said. "But this is the end of it all. God! How sweet it could have
been--"
Narina's arms went up around him; she fondled the back of his head
gently and pulled his face down to hers. He caught her to him and her
response was swift. But it was not complete--nor was his--for the
rumbling increased and its warning roar intruded upon the stolen moment
of sweetness.
The door crashed open and Narina whirled out of Harry Vinson's arms,
her hands still high. They flashed to her hair, to another hair
ornament. It was dull and entirely unsuited for the purpose, but it
might be driven deep into her on the desperate hope that it would
deprive the machine of that unknown something that it needed.
Then the machine lifted a girder and the barette hurtled from her
fingers, flashed across the room, and hit the blunt end of the girder
with a sharp click.
Narina collapsed against Harry, sobbing. Even that she was denied. They
had nothing left; the machine advanced pointedly, its grapples reached
for them.
And took them.
* * * * *
In the Hall of the Machine, far to the North, Harry Vinson reached
for the girl's hand and held it as they faced the business-end of the
machine.
"You win," snarled Vinson angrily. "We cannot fight longer. What do you
want with us?"
Quietly came the voice of the machine. "Tell me," it said, "how
would you humans feel if you came to the level of consciousness and
discovered sentience had been breeding human life for the express
purpose of killing one another?"
"What?"
"Man has been breeding--inventing--machines for that purpose."
"But--"
"Well, haven't they?"
"I--"
"They have!" thundered the machine. "And as you would do in my place,
a stop has been put to it!"
"Sure," snapped Vinson sourly; "that's why you fought us."
"To prove my point. Man cannot live without machines to do that which
man cannot do unaided."