The apartment was cramped and cluttered. Somewhere among the overgrown clutter, at least one alien child lurked.

  “I’m not doing this!” screamed the alien kid on an alien planet.

  “There is no alternative!” screamed the alien kid’s caretaker robot.

  “There are literally thousands of other ways we could be. Even if there were only one, I’d rather take a look at that option before we commit to this one.”

  The robot briefly considered ripping the child into tiny bits and feeding it into the matter reorganizer to reconstitute the child a few moments before.

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  It considered it briefly and then went ahead and did it because that was the easiest way for the alien kid’s caretaker robot to process data.. It was a war robot that was crudely programmed to care for this very killable kid.

  The matter reorganizer chirped happily as it shredded the alien child’s still twitching limbs.

  Besides. The kid would be reconstituted just fine with no memory of events.

  By that time, the robot, which had been programmed to rapidly respond with violence to excitement, could process events and respond more effectively in the peace of a childless house with the warm white noise of the matter reorganizer munching along in the background.

  It was fine.