(courtesy Tor Publishing Group)
There have been more than a few stories of artificial lifeforms who have ended up being considerably more human than their creators.
But is there anyone more human than the eponymous protagonist of this marvellous series by Martha Wells, a robot created to enforce, with extreme prejudice it should be noted, a range of security protocols who has found a way to switch of his unthinking programming and take hold of some fairly impressive self determination?
Murderbot, now in his novella-length third outing in Rogue Protocol, has found a way to do as he likes, programming wise at least though in a galaxy where security bots are supposed to do as they are told, and most definitely not think for themselves – human beings are not a fan of sentient bots, a raging discomfort that leads them to act in unpredictable ways that make life difficult for our protagonist – and while flicking the “off” switch on his programming has proved liberating, it’s still tricky getting around when everyone expects you to act a certain way and you no longer have to.
With his controlling algorithms done and well and truly dusted, Murderbot goes where he wants when he wants all while doing his best to appear and act human so he isn’t pulled aside and some wiseass tries to put his dormant programming back into “on” mode.
The thing about Murderbot is that he is funny, vey, very funny, and while he’s not the robot he was, he’s not exactly fully human either, giving him a remove from AI and people alike that makes his opinions and assessments a thing of gloriously amusing delight.
They were all annoying and deeply inadequate humans, but I didn’t want to kill them. Okay, maybe a little.
In Rogue Protocol, everyone’s newly favourite self-determining android is still trying to gather evidence against the absolutely amoral GrayCris Corporation who have proven themselves distressingly adept as sacrificing people and investments if it helps them realise some fairly insidious goals.
Still smarting from the collateral damage he and a variety of humans suffered in books one and two of the series, All Systems Red (2017) and Artificial Condition (2018), Murderbot is determined to gather the evidence he needs to prove GrayCris have been acting illegally and immorally on various planets on which they’re active.
It’s undoubtedly a mission of critical importance to him but actually being able to get around to investigate as he needs to is a challenge with only certain ships and their AI systems able to be used, lest too many questions get asked.
It means he has to get around in some fairly cloak-and-dagger kind of ways and is constantly having to fabricate stories about who he is and what he’s doing, which he’s not a fan of, not necessarily because it trips some big moral wires for him, but because it is a whole lot of fuss and bother that comes with the propensity for lies to be uncovered and complications to ensue.
Murderbot just wants to be left alone and isn’t a fan of complications.
(courtesy The Nebula Awards)
He also isn’t a fan of people, really.
You might think that’s strange given the lengths he’s gone to break free of his programming yoke, but his drive to do that had more to do with being free to make his own decisions rather than any passionate fandom of humanity.
In fact, even in the rush and tumble of Rogue Protocol, where some strikingly awful things are happening on a planet that’s supposed to be long deserted, Murderbot would much rather be watching the TV shows that occupy a great deal of his memory space, and not talking to anyone.
But as the events of Rogue Protocol, Murderbot not only has to come out of hiding, where’s hoping to witness what’s going on on the planet than be actively involved, but actively work to protect the innocent humans caught in the crossfire, all while pretending to be the standard issue Sec Unit that he no longer is.
While there’s a lot of action in Murderbot, what really strikes you about Rogue Protocol, and indeed the entire superbly written series, is how funny Murderbot is.
Not stand-up funny, no; the kind of funny our protagonist manages is the type of carping and complaining, all internal of course, that anyone who’s fed up to the back teeth of his lot in life would be familiar with.
All Murderbot wants to do is avoid people, the annoying small talk they seem to inexplicably love and execute his mission successfully, but things keep happening and people keep being people and he’s stuck having to help them … and he’s not happy about it.
Fortunately I remembered I was carrying a possibly living human and I didn’t scream or drop her or anything. Her helmet with its comms mic had been ripped off, and her head rested on my shoulder. She slurred the words, ‘Who are you?’
So, while yes, there’s very big spacey epic sci-fi at play in Rogue Protocol, and some almost Alien-esque corporate skullduggery at play, there’s also some Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy-level sardonic wit at play, and while Murderbot is not thinking these very funny, sigh-heavy things to be more human, he ends up inadvertently coming across as very human anyway.
He’s almost like the reluctant cops of Die Hard and Lethal Weapon, who are close to retirement or some sort of sweet gig, but who, despite their best efforts, keep getting sucked into the line of work and life they are desperately trying to escape.
It would be very easy for Murderbot to walk away away and just do his own thing, but he has a mission to prosecute and unfortunately that means he ends up caught in all kinds of situations he would like to avoid and people he’s rather do without interacting with.
He’s not even keen to be friends with other robots, even sweet, lovable ones, and Rogue Protocol has a gem in its touchingly heartbreaking tale, but events conspire to mean he has to keep helping people and Sec Unit-ing, even though he doesn’t want to, and the end result is a very end slice of superlatively executed sci-fi storytelling that just happens to also be very funny.
Rogue Protocol is a worthy addition to the series, advancing Murderbot’s mission and embellishing the protagonist’s humanity all while burnishing his curmudgeonly persona which may not be robotic anymore but which isn’t exactly wild about being expansively human either.