[Original Novel] Little Robot, Part 36

in #writing7 years ago


Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Part 21
Part 22
Part 23
Part 24
Part 25
Part 26
Part 27
Part 28
Part 29
Part 30
Part 31
Part 32
Part 33
Part 34
Part 35

She stood there eyes wide, hand over her mouth, hanging on my every word. When at last I got it all out, she urged me to introduce her to Madeline. I found her seated at the table just outside the kitchen in a small common area used for breaks.

She wore a grumpy expression for reasons unclear to me until she spoke. “You were getting food, remember?” I introduced Sue. Madeline seemed unimpressed. “I can’t eat this. Do you need my help? Where are the crates kept?”

I assured Sue that Madeline’s just cranky because all we had to eat for the past two days was a pair of rabbits. Sue gagged. “You ate bunnies!?” I assured her the alternative would’ve been much worse. She picked up on my meaning immediately and didn’t guilt me any further.

“I suppose I am being rude. I’m just tired, but that’s no excuse. My name’s Madeline LeBlanc. I met your friend here at a protest.” Sue then introduced herself in turn. Madeline told her own side of the story, filling the gaps in my version as Sue looked on, fully engrossed.

Then Helper returned from the bathroom in her green dress, body still steaming, towel wrapped around her head as if she had any hair to dry with it. Upon spotting Helper, Sue exploded from her chair, dashed over and embraced her.

“OH MY GOD GIRL LOOK AT YOU” Sue squealed, “YOU’RE GORGEOUS!!” Helper took her by the hands and the two did that thing even grown women sometimes do where they jump up and down together, emitting ear piercing shrieks of what I assume is happiness. “I know right!?” Helper boasted. “But you too, I’ve always thought so.”

Those two were inseparable for hours after that. Catching up, lamenting the limited selection of dresses to be found in today’s disappointing corpse piles, and making plans for a girls only slumber party.

I felt brief pangs of jealousy as, following Helper’s apparent death and resurrection, I wanted all of her attention for the remainder of the night. But I resigned myself to the realization that I’m not the only one who adores her, and gave the two of them some space.

Madeline and I took the elevator down to the cave in search of a crowbar to open the crates with. I realized on the way down that it would be the first time anybody not in the employ of Evolutionary Robotics got a glimpse of what we do here. What we did, rather.

“Listen...Madeline. You may see some projects down there that disturb you.” She shrugged and countered that it couldn’t be any worse than the hospital. “I just want you to know none of it’s dangerous” I added.

“I think I’ll be alright as long as you don’t have a bunch of robot sex slaves chained up down there or some weird shit like that.” I laughed. But when Madeline didn’t, I figured out she wasn’t joking. “Of course not” I assured her. “Just a few human ones. But sometimes I wrap ‘em in tin foil and pretend they’re robots. Don’t tell Helper.”

The elevator doors parted, and the two of us set out in search of tools. When I didn’t immediately spot any, I feared whoever looted the upper level must’ve come down here and done the same.

When I noticed Madeline was no longer beside me, I scanned the room and found her quietly studying the Garden. “Oh that. An early project of mine, and the prototype for the larger project that was being worked on here before...well, you know.”

Her eyes darted around, following the movement of the crude little robots as they fought over bright spots. “You made these didn’t you.” I beamed with pride, though the inflection of her voice bordered on accusatory.

“Not my most advanced creations, I’ll admit. Still, each of them is interesting and appealing in it’s own unique way, and I adore them all as much as the day I built them.” She turned to stare at me with undisguised dismay.

“They compete or something, am I right? Like natural selection.” I nodded and told her all about the experiment proper, still underway in the cave network beyond the nearby security hatch. Her obvious disgust only grew more severe.

“Wow. I mean hooooly shit. You were really asking for it, you know?” I told her I didn’t, so she clarified. “You dumb shits. You think you’re so clever, screwing around with your little machines. Making them so they can evolve, blind to the significance of it. You’ve practically rolled out the red carpet for Skynet, and sent it a gold trimmed invitation.”

I laughed, having heard that old chestnut more times than I care to recount. “What’s funny about that?” she snapped. “Have you forgotten why we’re down here? There’s god knows how many murderous robots roaming the country as we speak, nukes probably not even done falling on targets of strategic value to them. How can you not realize the hand you had in bringing that about?”

I offered that nobody in my field takes such movies seriously. That we always thought the primary threat would be a strong AI, and that’s still decades off. She was by this point nearly livid, gesticulating wildly as she lectured me.

“Did it never occur to any of you that a robot doesn’t need to be a genius in order to pick up a gun? To aim it, and pull the trigger? God damn. I remember reading all those articles about how this would never be allowed to happen.

At first they said there would never be armed robots. Then it changed to no autonomous armed robots. Then it was no autonomous armed robots that don’t kill without human authorization. Like bringing a frog to a slow boil.

Did you actually want this to happen? Were you and your egghead buddies actively trying to make it a reality? At this point, based on what I’ve seen, it’s hard to believe that you weren’t. Cobbling together these little robotic critters, building a world for them to inhabit...add a God complex to your list of glaring personality flaws, by the way.”

I asked if she had a pen and paper handy. She ejected an exasperated sigh and stormed off. After rummaging through various drawers, I finally found a modest but usable pry bar. I then searched for Madeline, instead stumbling across Helper in my office. Must’ve made her way down here without either of us noticing? She’s quiet as a mouse when she wants to be.

“Wow, I uh...you look amazing” I stammered. Helper sat before my workstation, connected to it through a USB cable running from the side of her head to a port just under the monitor. She wore a glittery purple wig, the hair so long she would trip over it if she were even an inch shorter.

“Do you really think so? Sue told me this would revolutionize my look. I don’t know what that means but it sounds substantial. I’m not exactly sure if one hundred twenty four thousand, six hundred and thirty nine strands of synthetic fiber mounted to a fabric cap can accomplish that.”

I smiled. Makes my whole day when she slips up and her inner machine shows though. I guess because it evokes nostalgia for the days when she was just a rudimentary little phone assistant. My, how she’s grown since then.

“It really is a whole new you! You look fantastic.” Helper appeared surprised and a bit flummoxed. “My goodness. Sue was right then, wigs really are powerful technology. She said she’s going to introduce me to the magical world of nail extensions next.”

Sounds like Sue alright. I soon returned to the upper level and went to work on one of the crates with the pry bar. It was sorely inadequate for the task, but with a little elbow grease I eventually got the lid off anyway.

After trying a bit of everything, favorites soon emerged. The pizza ration came out on top, as even mediocre pizza is still pizza, with penne pasta in marinara as a close second. Pasta rations came the closest by far to resembling the dishes they were designed to replicate.

The rations with egg content ought to constitute a war crime. Woe unto any poor, hungry grunt who has ever been stuck with nothing else to eat. Some also came with accessory snacks like candy, cookies or peanut butter and crackers. Basically adult lunchables.

Besides the rations, there were plastic drums of bulk dehydrated vegetables, pasta, itty bitty meatballs, rice, beans and other staple ingredients with which more substantial dishes could conceivably be prepared.

It was over dinner, the four of us gathered to scarf down microwaved faux pizza and the little brownies that come with, that the fight began. We were discussing what to do now that we made it to safety, mainly how to divide up the interior of the complex between us.

“The rooms will sleep two people each, as well as another on the floor. That increases capacity by a third, to 150.” Helper suggested. “I was thinking that when we start bringing refugees here from the military base, after delivering as many to Big Red as he can accommodate, we could-”

I stopped her there. “Woah, woah. Helper. Refugees? Everybody that’s going to live in this complex is sitting at this table. The rations would run out in a week with that many people, maybe sooner. Besides, we can be alone here.” I glanced at Lars, Madeline and Sue. “...Or nearly alone anyway, most of the time. Do you think I want to pack this place wall to wall with hungry, unreasonable, cranky, violent primates?”

Helper narrowed her eyes at me. “...We have to help.” I asked why. Now in a huff, she reminded me that she’s Helper, and must help. “Fine for you. I’m not. Don’t think I don’t admire that about you, but you’re naive if you think this complex can support even a hundred people for the length of time necessary to-”

She suddenly stood up, hands on the table and shouted at me. “I AM HELPER! I MUST HELP!” I slid my seat back a bit, aghast at her sudden outburst. “Helper, calm down. All I’m saying is-” She cut me off, now angrier than I’ve ever seen her.

“What you’re saying is that you’ll go to great lengths to protect your own life, and mine. But you’re willing to let hundreds of people just like you be vaporized or perish slowly from radiation poisoning because you ran into some bad apples when you were young.

That’s sick. You’re a sick, sad little man. I see that now. Before, I assumed you must know better than me. That if you say humans are a certain way, that’s how they really are, even if the ones I met didn’t match your description.

I’ve been doubting myself when I should’ve been doubting you. I kept letting it slide, time after time, because I love you. But I’m not going to overlook it anymore. I have a duty not just to you, but to anyone I’m able to help.

Right now that includes the desperate, huddled families camped out on that military base. They’re going to die while you sit here on your ass eating junk food in a nearly empty subterranean shelter, specifically designed to withstand nuclear attack.

I can’t allow that. You’re wrong! Wrong about humans, who from what I’ve seen are not uniformly malicious but the varied mixture of good and bad I would expect to find in any group of individuals. You’re also wrong about me, if you think I’ll let those people die rather than defy you.”

Lars and Madeline quietly spectated, as shocked by this side of Helper as I was. Helper stormed off, and I made no motion to follow her. Lars asked if she’s ever snapped at me like that before. I recalled that the closest she came was in the lodge, during our discussion of crime statistics, but even that was out of the ordinary for her.


Stay Tuned for Part 37!

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She went from a simple cell phone app to a living being that's experienced life, and like Pygmalion, she evolved in ways that her creator wasn't ready for.
I wasn't really shocked by her behavior, maybe that's because I have children and this isn't that far from what they think. Like helper, they want to see the good side of people.
Then again, helper has been aged (Programatically) by years (though virtually) and she could now be a teenager.
Like most teenagers, she thinks her parents are dumb. So that's not surprising either.
And finally, she's a woman...and I won't go any more into that battle.

Interesting definition of refugees as hungry, unreasonable and violent primates, never heard of that.
Love the little robot, not the painting, the story!
Great novel!

"The elevator doors parted, and the two of us set out in search of tools. When I didn’t immediately spot any, I feared whoever looted the upper level must’ve come down here and done the same." Spooky.

I can’t imagine the future with robot sex slaves.
Anyway, I just finished reading part 36 and since you mentioned “food” so many time I guess I’m gona do the same.
Resteemed!

I'm going to go back and read this if I can find some time. Did you do the artwork?

No, an artist buddy of mine did. He's done a bunch of covers for me over the years.

liton robot novel new next in front of US presented to thank you for the novel a lot to me many important like this story to read thanks again with US to share

Would you consider turning it into a whole ebook one day? :)

Ohh, ok. Will check it out!

lets countinue the enjoyment this is so good loved it keep posting

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