“Why hasn’t it beg —,” he started to ask, only to have a movement catch his eye and draw it upward. He looked directly at the rock wall but saw nothing. Then — there! The camouflage was excellent. Only a small patch of skin matrix was visible as the soldier moved sideways across the rock, like a crab. By focusing intently and increasing his internal zoom by 400 percent, the Uber-Director could now see a swarm of soldiers moving toward the opening in the rock face.

One of them had shot a fine, almost invisible net over the cave opening. The Uber-Director smiled. Even at this magnification, he had to concentrate hard to see the occasional patches of matrix. His assistant frowned and squinted at the rock wall. An ordinary human would have a great deal of trouble spotting these new soldiers.

With his mind, the Uber-Director turned on a channel that allowed him to listen in on the coded transmissions between the soldier units. This generation, Generation J, had been endowed with some intelligence and only rudimentary emotion, but they seemed to be using and channeling them more effectively than their predecessors.

They were much more controllable than either Erasers or their flying-machine replacements, and smart enough to make quick decisions and improvise.

Earlier versions had been smarter — too smart. Smart enough to question orders, to want to make their own decisions. Others had had only a machine’s ability to follow orders. Their ability to think on their feet, to make snap decisions, to adapt to changing circumstances, had been practically nonexistent.

Even more disastrous had been Generations D through G. Either they were so blood hungry that they couldn’t be controlled once they scented their prey, or their empathy was so heightened that they couldn’t bring themselves to actually kill anything.

The soldiers paused, patched into one impulse, one global command. Then they quickly detached the netting and sprang into the cave entrance. Moving as one, they left no space to escape.

Several of the units reappeared at the cave’s entrance. They tossed down mannequins filled with hamburger, buzzing with flies. They had not eaten them. They had followed their orders and captured their prey. Now they raised their arms in victory.

The Uber-Director blinked at his assistant, who was gazing at the mannequins with dismay and revulsion.

“Yes, sir.” The assistant opened a small black suitcase. It contained a highly efficient electric generator.

The Uber-Director sent his solders the message, and instantly they swarmed down the rock wall like spiders, moving surely and easily over a surface with few ridges, no handholds.

The assistant was afraid of them but knew not to show it. The soldiers circled him, their faces expressionless.