CBR16 BINGO: Dreams, because Murderbot dreams of being left alone to do its half-assed job in peace.
During the spring CBR Book Club, I sheepishly admitted I hadn’t read any of the Murderbot series. I was encouraged to read at least two books before deciding whether to continue. I kind of disagree with that recommendation, though, and would counter that if you’re not at least amused by the opening line of All Systems Red, the series probably isn’t for you. “I could have become a mass murderer after I hacked my governor module, but then I realized I could access the combined feed of entertainment channels carried on the company satellites.”
The main character, a Security Unit constructed of both robotic and human parts (or “construct”), is a failure as a “heartless killing machine” but has nevertheless nicknames itself “Murderbot” (that’s private). Murderbot wants what many of us want from our occupations: to be left alone to do a half-assed but passable job, to not have to make pointless small talk with its coworkers, and to spend its downtime watching videos. In Murderbot’s case, its job is to act as security for a group of scientists doing research on another planet. It’s a fairly straightforward gig, but it has to be careful not to let the team know that it hacked its governing module, meaning nothing is stopping it from disregarding the team’s orders. It explains, “Not letting anybody, especially the people who held my contract, know that I was a free agent was kind of important. Like, not having my organic components destroyed and the rest of me cut up for parts important.”
Unfortunately for Murderbot, it stumbles upon a different kind of danger. The team discovers (through Murderbot’s own carelessness of using its “out loud” face when its shield is down) that the construct has feelings, and some of the team members want to talk to it about that. (“Yes, talk to Murderbot about its feelings. The idea was so painful I dropped to 97 percent efficiency.”) It has good reason for not wanting to reveal too much to this nice group of humans: Murderbot has a dark incident in its past where it did something terrible (if the self-assigned nickname “Murderbot” didn’t clue you into that already).
Meanwhile, a more tangible threat is lurking on the planet where the team is conducting its research. When the group is unable to contact another research team, they uncover a deadly plot, and Murderbot has to do what it does best (second to binge-watching the latest series)–kick some ass and protect its team. That’s all I’ll say about that to avoid spoilers!
In Artificial Condition, Murderbot ventures out on its own to delve more deeply into the circumstances that led to the darkest incident in its history. At least, it tries to venture off on its own, but it seems that anywhere Murderbot goes, something tries to strike up a relationship with it. In this case, the annoyance comes in the form of the transport shuttle that Murderbot bribes into taking it to a Mining Facility. Nicknamed ART, for Asshole Research Transport, the shuttle illustrates that different cyber technology have different sensibilities. You would think a construct and an intelligent shuttle would be on the same page, but you would be wrong. The transport has a deeper attachment to its crew and passengers than the average SecUnit has for its clients–so much so that it gets upset when watching shows where humans die. Murderbot recounts “When a major character died in the twentieth episode I had to pause seven minutes while it sat there in the feed doing the bot equivalent of staring at a wall, pretending that it had to run diagnostics.” (To me, the idea of ART pretending to run diagnostics to not let on that it’s having feelings is one of the more hilarious images in this book.)
ART also has lots of great advice for Murderbot, though it tends to be either smug or sarcastic in the delivery (at least, that’s how Murderbot interprets it). It helps Murderbot make some physical adjustments so it won’t be readily recognized as a SecUnit, and it advises that in order to get access to the mining facility, it’s going to need a work permit. That means Murderbot has to apply for a job with a group of humans under the guise of being a cyber-augmented human (as opposed to a construct). Being attached to one group of humans is bad enough, now it has to keep yet another group of naive, fragile beings alive.
These stories are delightful. Robots/cyborgs/constructs displaying human traits isn’t a new theme, but it’s done with such ease here that it’s easy to relate. Who among us hasn’t been frustrated and annoyed with friends who behave irrationally? Who hasn’t wanted to just be left alone at work or turn off our brain cells and stream the latest series? The surprise isn’t that Murderbot has feelings, but that it has to learn to deal with them. As it explains in All Systems Red, “It’s wrong to think of a construct has half bot, half human. It makes it sound like the halves are discrete, like the bot half should want to obey orders and do its job and the human half should want to protect itself and get the hell out of here. As opposed to the reality, which was that I was one whole confused entity, with no idea what I wanted to do.”
As I suggested in my review title, I’ve already recruited another Murderbot fan! I didn’t get more than a few pages into All Systems Red when I turned to my husband and suggested he would enjoy it also. He’s currently zipping through Artificial Condition, and I’m off to my library website to put a hold on Rogue Protocol. Without a doubt, Murderbot is one of the most marvelous “humans” in science fiction today.