"Yes. But it is not alive. Our people made it. We have many such
machines."
The robot swayed toward me, the rim of cilia flashing and twisting.
Lhar said, "It speaks thus, without words or thought...." She paused,
watching the sphere, and I sensed dejection in her manner.
The robot turned to me. The cilia twisted lightly about my arm,
tugging me toward Lhar. I said, "What does it want?"
"It knows that I am dying," Lhar said.