For half of the night, after he healed her wounds, Cynthia began taking the dents out of his casing to make room for all the work she would have to do on his innards. Despite the impressive job he did her hand worked only erratically, almost in a mechanical fashion. She wondered if it would ever feel right again.
Besides the fact that the bot had worked in the Medical Clinic, the only information it would relinquish was its serial number, as it said, "There is little else to me".
"Surely, the people you work with everyday at the Medical Clinic call you by name."
"Negative, if they communicate with me they refer to my serial number. All bots there perform any task needed. There is no need to tell the difference between us."
Cynthia decided that time was over. She didn't like the idea of calling it a number, so she had to find a name for it. Then she would also have to stop thinking of it as a thing. The only male name that came immediately to mind was her Boss', and there was no way she would name it after that jackass.
She strained her mind thinking back to her childhood in America. Her parents, along with the rest of that country's people, were bred as slaves, or the more politically correct word: workers. She was eight years old when the government took her away to Brazil because of her high test scores. She remembered her father just as she was leaving. He told her that going to the capital was greater than anything in the world. She would get away from the poverty that she had lived in all her life. He assured her that it was for the best and that they would be all right. She only wished she could see her father again.
This bot in front of her was not anything like her father, but her father was the only male figure in her life that she trusted and loved. Therefore, if she was truly to trust this bot she would start with a name she could trust. He agreed to the name, Larry.
After that she retired to bed, and Larry commenced printing out his circuit designs so she could look them over before she started to repair him.
***
Four hours later a loud, long, obnoxious squeal emanated from beside Cynthia's bed for the third time in a half hour. Cynthia slammed her open palm into her alarm clock. It took her several seconds to orient herself and realize something hovered above her.
"Good morning Larry." She rubbed her forehead trying to wake herself up; it wasn't helping. "Have you ever had one of those nights that no matter how well you sleep you still feel like you could sleep several more hours?" She remembered with whom she was talking. "No I suppose you wouldn't"
She glanced at her alarm clock again. "You know I shouldn't have stayed up so late. Now I don't even have enough time to take a shower." She stood and rushed over to her closet that held a number of worker uniforms. She chose one at random and began to change. She had her nightshirt halfway over her head when she realized there was still a presence in her room. "Do you mind? I'm trying to change here."
Of course he didn't. He was a bot he had no emotions, no desires, no manners whatsoever. Something did seem amiss with him though. Typically bots were programed to respect a person's privacy. "What's wrong?" Cynthia asked when she was certain he wasn't going away.
"Cynthia we must talk."
She responded coldly and at the same time realized that he meant her no harm while she was dressing so she continued. "I have no time to talk. I have to get off to work."
Without any type of preparation he asked her, "Do you know what you are?"
She afforded him a moment's glance not understanding the question she tried to rationalize it to the prior line of conversation. "Female?" After he did not respond, she continued. "A robot designer? A worker? Human? What?"
He moved to stay in her line of vision while she prepared to leave. "You believe yourself to be human?"
"Of course." More perplexed than ever, she shook her head. She didn't have the time for these games and headed for the door. "Listen, I would really love to stay and figure out these riddles you're throwing at me, but I must go."
With that she burst out of her apartment. Before she shut the door behind her, she stuck her head back inside. "Stay here until I get back. Why don't you think up some more brain-teasers? It might be fun trying to figure them out while I'm working on you." She slammed the door and it automatically locked behind her.
Sally was waiting for her right outside the door. "I was getting worried. I was about to knock when you came out." Sally looked her over. "You did a good job on those wounds. I can hardly see them."
They began walking quickly through the crowded streets. "I had help." Cynthia told her.
"Oh, really? Did you stay at the Medical Clinic, like I wanted you to?" Sally bounced happily no doubt believing her friend had taken her advice for once.
Cynthia shook her head in disgust at the thought of being stuck in that horrible place. She hated being around sick people and hated being one herself even more. "No, but I have a bot now."
This information stunned Sally so much that she stopped walking. Not for long as the crowd made sure of that. Sally hurried back, pushing her way past a few people. "Did I hear you right or do I need my ears cleaned?"
"Yes, you heard me. I came home last night and here was a bot sprawled out on my carpet. The same bot that was trashed in the fight yesterday, no less." She then went on to explain how she was helping the bot and how he was helping her.
"Let me get this straight. You named the bot and made it your friend?"
"Yeah." Cynthia replied flatly.
Sally laughed hysterically. "Nobody, even the rich, name their bots. Bots are servants, not friends. You saw for yourself yesterday how that one just ignored us as if we were street lights. Are you sure it's safe? It could attack you."
Cynthia became defensive. "He's a medical bot. The only reason he attacked that guy was self preservation. Besides, I think his brain was smashed in the fight. He's different now. He really is. It's almost as if he cares for me."
They soon came to the Robonotics building and entered, ignoring the doorman. "He? How does he care for you? I don't get it. Did he say he loves you?"
Cynthia laughed. "Of course not, he doesn't have feelings. He could have left. Instead he healed me, and I never did give him a good reason to stay."
"That is truly incredible." Sally sounded dumbfounded. "I always knew you had a knack with computers, but this…"
They began walking beyond the Boss' office when the secretary beckoned them. "Cynthia, one moment please." Just the sound of her voice was enough to stop the girls in their tracks. "The Boss wishes to see you, immediately. If I might add, he didn't sound as if he was in a good mood."
This was like déjà vu. The two girls looked to each other and back to the pedbot. Cynthia gulped in horror. "You sure he said right now?"
"I am positive. If you wish, I will double check my database."
"No, I'm sure you're right." Cynthia said.
Sally gripped her friend's wounded hand. Strangely, it didn't hurt. "You'll make it through. I know it."
Cynthia waved her on to work as she entered the doorway, not completely sure of what was to come.
***
Julion walked to his job today without any major events. Too bad, he could use the extra money. His low-paying mechanics job wasn't enough for him. The flits, passenger vehicles that fly similarly to the old-style airplanes, just didn't come into the shop as much as he wished they would. That's where the money lay. The flit shop that he worked in also serviced bots. The rich didn't pay big money to fix them, after all if it cost too much to repair a bot, those money-hoggers would merely go out and buy a new one. However, their flits were too important, since they were expensive to buy new, so repair was often the only answer.
Julion sighed as he looked in his box. Eight papers, which meant that he had eight bots to diagnose and repair by the end of the day. Tomorrow would be the same process just as yesterday and the rest of his life. Oh, what he would give for a break in this routine, a flit, or something that could get him out of this rut.
"Lucked out again, huh, Julion? I only got five bots." A coworker said. Julion never did take the time to remember their names.
Julion ignored him. While it was true he worked on commission and the more bots he serviced the more money he got, there were times when he just couldn't finish all the work. To make matters worse, if a person did not finish his work by a set deadline, then they'd be punished.
How he hated his work. He sat on a stool next to the bench where a pedbot lay waiting. The paper work alleged that the bot had lost some of its memory. He grudgingly began the routine of doing a memory scan, which returned a report of no bad sectors. These rich people didn't know anything. If they believe it to be bad memory, then it was most likely a bad connection somewhere. He began the monotonous job of checking each connection. Half of the time it wasn't even the rich. These stupid bots each have their own personality and the rich just want to have the bots attitude adjusted. In which case, if they just said so, he'd be happy to pound some sense into one.
This bot's problem in particular stemmed from carelessness. This bot would not be here if either it or its master cared. Many of these bots wouldn't be here. Of course what did he care? The rich liked the bots more than the workers. Julion knew that to them he was only a number, just like this bot.
It was his job, however, not to care but to repair what was broken. He was only wasting time by sitting here and pondering over what he could not have.
Suddenly another pile of papers dropped in front of him. He looked up to find who dropped them there, and there stood his boss. A kind smile spread across his face as he looked down to Julion. "Those are orders for your transfer over to Robonotics of Brazil. It seems as if they like your work. Good luck. Oh, and a warning, Estevez, their boss, isn't as kind as I." The man patted him on the back and left.
Julion couldn't believe his ears and had to look at the papers to see for himself. Yes, these were transfer orders. He was getting a change in his life. Finally!
***
"Come in. There's no need to hide over by the door." Horacio Estevez sat behind his desk and his words were surprisingly kind.
Cynthia walked in without hesitation and abided his words. For the first time ever, he seemed to be in a good mood and she feared disturbing it. The room seemed much different from yesterday, more comfortable. There were no bright lights, the swatter was nowhere in sight, and the Boss sat feet propped up and hands folded in his lap. "You finished the preliminary design of the security override system yesterday. Do you believe it is satisfactory?"
"I had worked on it to the best of my ability. However, I believe that my opinion does not count." That was the most neutral answer she could think of.
He smiled and seemed to like her answer. "Good. I am taking you off that project and putting you on another one. One that will bring me even more profit with you working on it.
"Our research department believes it has found a way to build a newer type of robot. All the information in this packet is top secret. Only you and your assistant and a new third member of your team are to know what it contains. This new assistant will be arriving today." He looked at a paper quickly on his desk. "A Julion Montclair, supposedly a robotics specialist."
Estevez threw the packet to her. She caught it with ease not allowing a single paper to fall. He nodded at her excellent reflexes. "That is all for now."
Without an argument she turned and left, the expression on her face was an obvious one; befuddlement. That was the first time she had ever walked out of there without him so much as yelling at her. It was strange, two emotional extremes in as many days. It made her wonder what the packet contained and why this new secret could make the Boss so amiable.
The entire idea of a new robotic system was too exciting for Cynthia and Sally to wait for their new colleague. In the relative privacy of their small cubical, they ripped the folder open. It revealed a datapad programed with a set of diagrams and schematics as well as a hundred and fifty pages of reports.
Cynthia started to scan through the report taking in the data speedily. The information indicated that a prototype had already been built and was being tested, yet it didn't say where or how. The report showed that this new breed of robot was not at all a robot, but an android, a biological robot sophisticated to the point of being human. Cyborg might be more appropriate a term. Cynthia mused. It did appear that the biological functions were limited to the power system and outward appearance, everything else was electromechanical. Perhaps anthropoid would be more appropriate as there was no limit to gender.
The physical speed and strength of individual anthropoids could be adjusted to fit the needs of the job assigned. Unlike the bots, the anthropoids with their biological systems needed a minimal amount of food to power their systems and sleep to repair any damage. They also can be easily damaged in a fire or other extreme weather. Some research was being done to limit the amount of damage done. Like other bots, apart from major damage the expected longevity of this anthropoid is near infinite.
This anthropoid was designed to mimic the look and actions of a human being. It had the ability to perform all five human senses and incorporate human cognitive abilities, communicating and formation of ideas on its own. The artificial intelligence was the true highlight of this machine. This meant it could think and grow mentally just as the workers could. The difference between anthropoids and humans is the Bosses would have total control over the anthropoids. Security overrides have been designed to force the anthropoids to obey the orders given to it. Cynthia realized this was the purpose of her design yesterday. A question crossed her mind; if she had only just designed it, what was the driving force behind it and what did it mean for the existing prototype?
No reason was given for the purpose of an anthropoid with such abilities. It would be pointless to create said anthropoid for menial tasks as bots already exist for that. These anthropoids conceivably had the ability to perform any job below the middle class and possibly many above that level. It made little sense to Cynthia for a robot to look and act just like a human as people were already comfortable with working besides bots. Which could only mean one thing, Cynthia thought, these anthropoids were designed to replace humans. Only one logical conclusion followed: in time each (or even multiple) worker would be replaced by one and thus every human below middle class would be eradicated!
Cynthia shared none of this with Sally as her assistant fell into her chair saying, "Can you imagine, androids that can imitate humans? Isn't it wonderful? To think, there's one walking among us."
"Yeah, wonderful." Cynthia was not even half as ecstatic as her little Asian friend.
Sally, not being one to catch on quickly said, "How can't you be excited? All your life you've been working for something like this. This means a whole new age for us."
"Some great new age!" Cynthia burst from her chair. Her voice rose to the point that everyone in the room could hear. She quickly corrected herself and spoke in a harsh whisper. "Don't you understand? They're making these… things to replace us. They'll probably kill all of us after they pick our brains to make these things exactly like the people who already exist. It said right there that the prototype is made as an exact duplicate of its inventor."
Cynthia took a moment to calm down. Her rational thinking was taking over.
"With only a few exceptions, you wouldn't be able to tell the two apart. These anthropoids breath, sweat, bleed, even urinate exactly like humans."
"Anthropoid?" Sally asked.
"Android refers to males only." Cynthia waved her off. "Anthropoids would be able to endure more and probably live for hundreds of years. The rich wouldn't have to worry about overpopulation and poverty because anthropoids don't reproduce. Hell, knowing the upper classes, they probably even made them sexually active to fulfill their sick desires."
"You would know." Sally said under her breath.
Cynthia supposed the comment was based on her reading of the report so she chose to ignore it. "Maybe you don't understand. You are a worker! They will replace you like everyone else with one of these anthropoids."
"I understand fully, but see, if I don't do what we are assigned to do, I'm as good as dead anyway."
Sally was right, of course. Anyone who did not perform their job as assigned would be punished. Either way she would no longer have a life after this job was done. According to the datapad their assignment was to beta test the AI Software and inspect the prototype's design for potential problems.
A thought crossed her mind: what would happen if they "missed" some of the bugs? Would the Boss scrap the project thinking it was not profitable enough? No, most likely he would learn of the tampering and punishment would follow. The image of Estevez standing over her yesterday was enough to put the thought out of her mind altogether.
Realizing that they did have to get down to business, she switched modes. "Our job is to take the bugs out of this anthropoid. We may have the schematics and will be getting all the data, but exactly how are we going to check this thing out without the prototype?"
"I really don't think that will be a problem." Sally said it casually as she examined the schematics.
Cynthia was about to inquire why, when someone entered their small office. She looked up to find a brown-haired, brown-eyed, square-jawed, muscular man standing above her. She jumped to her feet. "You!"
He poked a meaty finger at his own chest. "Me?"
"You're the one that nearly destroyed Larry."
"Larry? You're kidding, right? The only things I have beaten up are bots." He smiled slyly. "I have a certain respect for humans." Cynthia thought this man was accusing her.
"Larry is a bot." Sally explained.
He laughed. "You named a bot! That's crazy. Nobody names bots."
"Why must everyone insist I'm crazy?" Cynthia questioned no one in particular. "I helped a bot that was almost demolished by this idiot and everyone thinks I'm crazy."
He stood face to face with her. "You are really pushing my limit on what I consider human."
Sally, intervened by sliding her way between them. "Is there something we can help you with?"
"I'm Julion Montclair. If I'm in the right place I've been assigned to assist in the debugging of the android prototype."
"This can't be happening." Cynthia turned away from him before her anger over boiled.
"Listen, we're all here to do a job." Sally tried to placate them both. "Put your prejudices aside and let's get to work."
Julion gave Cynthia one last cruel look, and she believed she heard a growl come from deep within him. "I'll need to study the schematics."
Cynthia pondered Julion as he looked over the datapad. "How did you know what we'd be working on? I was under the impression that you were just a mechanic."
Julion rubbed the back of his neck slightly. She wasn't sure if it was habitual or out of pain. "I talked to the Boss before coming here. He filled me in with all the information that I needed."
He turned back to her and the look Cynthia received was a mysterious one. It was as if he was accusing her again. She had not initiated any further hostilities towards him so she could not figure out why he was acting as such. His next words puzzled her more, especially since they were directed towards Sally. "Would you like to do the honors or should I?"
"I think I should." Sally rose from her chair again, and Cynthia must have had a sudden wave of vertigo for everything around her went black.
I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please send me any comments you might have, good or bad. Copyrighted 2008 by Christine Schnell. Go ahead and share it with others just keep my name with it.
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