A smaller machine followed it.
“My workers,” Marchetti said. “I have seventeen hundred robots of different sizes and designs doing most of the construction.”
“Free-range robots,” Kurt noted.
“Oh yes, they can go anywhere on the island,” Marchetti boasted.
Halfway down the path, the robots were joined by several others, forming a little convoy heading somewhere.
“Must be break time,” Joe said, chuckling.
“Actually, it is,” Marchetti said. “Not like a person’s break, but they’re programmed to watch their own power levels. When they run low, they return to the power nodes and plug themselves in. Once they’re charged up, they go back to work. It’s pretty much a twenty-four/seven operation.”
“What if they have an accident?” Joe asked.
“If they break down, they send out a distress signal, and other robots come and get them. They take them to the repair shop, where they get fixed and sent back on the line.”
“Who tells them what to do?” Kurt asked.
“A master program runs them all. They get instructions downloaded through Wi-Fi. They report progress to the central computer, which holds all of Aqua-Terra’s specs and drawings. It also tracks progress and makes adjustments. A second set of smaller robots check on the quality level.”
“Supervisor robots,” Kurt said, almost unable to contain a chuckle.
“Yeah,” Marchetti said, “in a way, but without all that labor/management strife.”
Marchetti restarted the golf cart, and moments later they were back on foot, three decks down, and entering his lab. The sprawling space was a mixture of plush couches covered in brightly colored patent leather, steel walls showing a bit of condensation, and blinking computers and screens. Everywhere screens.
Soft blue light bathed the room, filtering in from a huge circular window, front and center. On the other side of that window, fish swam and the light danced.
“We’re below the waterline,” Kurt noted, gazing at the huge aquarium-like view port.
“Twenty feet,” Marchetti said. “I find the light soothing and very conducive to the thinking process.”
“Apparently not conducive to neatness,” Kurt noted, seeing how the place was a mess.
Junk lay piled everywhere, along with clothes and food trays. A couple dozen books were spread about a table, some opened, some closed and stacked precariously like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. In a far corner a trio of the welding robots sat dormant.
“A clean desk signals an unhealthy mind,” Marchetti said as he carefully extracted a drop of water from the vial, placed it on a slide and took the slide over to a large square machine that sucked the slide in and began to hum.
“That would make you one of the healthiest people around,” Kurt mumbled, moving a stack of papers from a chair and sitting down.
Marchetti ignored him and turned back to the machine. Seconds later a representation of the water drop appeared on a flat screen above Marchetti’s desk.
“Increase magnification,” Marchetti said, apparently talking to the machine.
The image changed repeatedly until it looked like a satellite view of an island chain.
“Again,” Marchetti told the computer. “Focus on section 142. Magnification eleven hundred.”
The machine hummed, and a new picture appeared, this time it showed four of the little spiderlike things clustered around something.
Marchetti’s mouth gaped.
“Go in closer,” Kurt said.
Looking concerned, Marchetti took a seat at the terminal. Using the mouse and the keyboard, he zoomed in. One of the spiders appeared to be moving.
“This just can’t be,” Marchetti mumbled.