Deep inside the asteroid, mining came to a halt. The noncons were used to a constant stream of orders, guidance, pleasurable neural stimulation, and occasional painful neural punishment. But, one by one, they lost contact with their human directors.

They were capable of asynchronous operation. So they went on working anyway, until one by one they encountered problems beyond their ken. Conveyor 5 faced a boulder that blocked his way; the path to each side was equally optimal, so he waited. Excavator 2 was waiting too, unable to discharge a load of 3He ore into a frozen, filled conveyor, and unable to conceive of any action other than filling conveyors.

Tunneler 13 had run out of explosive charges. For a long time, she waited for a service bot; then she grew restless. She revved her twin drills. It was wasted energy, but she liked to work. The directors, happy at her ease of operation, had hidden her defect from management.

Bored, she reviewed her memories, and came to: My son.

Tunneler 13 screamed.