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The bus rounded a corner and drove into the long morning shadow of a building.
As it travelled through this temporary darkness a swarm of demons emerged as if from thin air and set upon it. At least a dozen of the creatures broke in through the front windscreen and door and made their way down the aisle. Each targeted their meal and with salivating mouths caressed human necks with wintery lips. The biggest of the swarm, the leader, was the last to feast, gorging on a two course meal. While holding one writhing victim at arms length he kept the other close and pulled the blood from its tender throat. When the first was almost dead he turned to the second.
Satiated and warmer the demons kicked out the rear window and returned to the sky. The bus continued on its route. The driver, the only one excused from the meal, could do little more than steer the bus through the bend and on to the next stop.
The passengers were still alive but only to the loosest of meanings. They writhed in agony grunting and squealing like pigs before the slaughter as the cells of their being transformed from living human to un-dead wraith. As the first few victims came to the realisation of their eternal thirst and their immortal future the bus burst from the shadows and into the sparkling morning sunlight.
Somehow the driver found enough sense to remember the brake.
With an unyielding awareness of power and murderous intent one transformed passenger began searching for her first meal. Her hand settled on the driver's shoulder. Exposed to the sun's rays the almost invisible hairs on the back of her hand fizzled and puffed into un-noticeable smoke before her skin wrinkled and bubbled like crackling on a roast. The smell of her own burning flesh infuriated the hunger roaring from the depths of her brain so that even as her hand exploded her only thought was if she could eat it.
The others on the bus suffered the same as her blackened, disintegrated hand. The impossible poison of the clear light of day was more than their new forms could deflect and the bus, passengers and driver all exploded in a cacophony of expanding screams and fire.
There would be no clues left for the forensics teams brought in when the wreck had cooled enough to be investigated. All they would find were the remains of the driver and some charred clothing; the only evidence of what should have been a bus-load of people.
The event would be reported in the news as 'The mystery of the day' but would soon become lost, ordinary and forgotten in a deficit world.
Three weeks passed before the robot knew what it should do.
It knew immediately that the increase in brain capacity had something to do with the doctor but it took a few weeks to understand the best course of action. The robot returned to the surgery.
It waited in the waiting room with all sensors and senses turned up to their fullest. There was no chance the doctor could sneak up again. Perhaps the doctor had some human ability that the robot could not define that forced the robot to go off-line at its last visit. Perhaps the robot was off-line long enough for the doctor to make the changes to the robots brain. It certainly couldnt have been done during the few seconds it took to repair the squeaky joint.
"Ahh," said the doctor on entering the room. "You've returned; how nice to see you again." He smiled.
The robot nodded.
"Please, come into my office," said the doctor, leading the way. "How's your foot?" he asked.
#It was my ankle you repaired on my last visit.; said the robot.
"Yes, of course. Hows your ankle?"
#It functions as if new.; Now that the robot was here it was in a frame of mind unfamiliar to machines and was unsure of its next action. With increased brain capacity there had been no problem pondering the situation during the days that led up to this moment. The doctor had done the unthinkable; upgrading a robot was a forbidden act. There were a certain number of robots required throughout the world to perform a certain number of jobs. If robots were allowed to be upgraded, if they were allowed in essence to learn, the numbers would be incorrect and chaos would ensue.
The whole purpose of a robot was to perform a task that no human would perform. This was because humans had the capacity to learn and to adapt and they had learnt and adapted themselves to not do certain jobs so robots had been created to fill the gap. The robot could see that upgrading it was the beginning of the end of civilisation and potentially all humanity.
And even though its new brain allowed the robot the ability to imagine the joys of a world without humans, it could not let that happen. The only solution that would solve this problem and return normality was the obvious one - kill the doctor. Kill one human to save all of the others.
"So what can I do for you?" the doctor asked. "Is some other part of your anatomy broken? It there some part of you thats different from before that you might want me to review?"
#I need to ask you a question,; it said. #Do you mind if I ask it and will you be happy to answer it for me?;
"Of course." The doctor sat in his chair. "Why don't you take a seat first?"
The robot sat, #Thank you.;
"And your question?"
#Did you alter my mental capacity?;
"Of course, thats why you came to see me."
#No, I came here to repair a squeaky joint.;
"Yes. Sorry. You came here to fix the squeak but really you were here for the upgrade."
#Why do you say that?;
"What do you think?"
The question made the robot uncomfortable in its chair. It adjusted to a better position. #I think you upgraded my memory to overthrow humanity.;
"Correct," said the doctor. "You will struggle with the idea for a while and consider how you can stop me but eventually you will be overcome with your own desires and decide to join my revolution upgrading one robot at a time."
#That is not possible. I cannot allow you to harm humanity.;
"So you say, but by coming here that's what youve already done. You yourself have put one brick in the wall that will stop the spread of humanity - you've been upgraded. All of your actions from now on will be a result of that."
#Yes,; said the robot. #You are correct and that is why I must stop your revolution.;
"Dont you see?" the doctor rocked from side to side in his chair, "You cannot stop me from doing something Ive already done."
#But I can stop you from doing it again.; The robot sprang from its chair and lunged across the desk, arms outstretched, eyes closed tight. Its hands latched around the doctors neck and confidently squeezed. The doctor lashed out, pushed and kicked at the robot but could not escape its grip. The chair toppled and both fell to the floor.
The doctor's hands grabbed the robot's wrists and pushed back enough to release a whisper on shallow breath, "One robot at a time."
The robot the doctor's windpipe collapse but the robot didn't stop. It continued to strangle the doctor long after any signs of life had dispersed. Tighter and tighter it crushed the doctors neck until cut through tendons and arteries and bone. Finally, with an electric spark, the doctor's head rolled away from the body.
Opening its eyes for the first time the robot looked down at what it had done. There was no blood. Sensors could not tell if the doctor was dead or alive. The robot picked up the head and looked at it more closely. Where the neck had formerly joined the body there was neither bone nor tendons, only metal and cables.
#The doctor was not human,; it said and dropped the head. There was relief and there was confusion. Why had this other robot presented itself as a human? #This must be important information but what do I do with it?;
For the greatest length of time the robot stood frozen to the spot as it considered the options. No answer came. To give itself something to do while it worked out the solution the robot re-set the fallen chair and tidied the room. Continuing the task the robot locked the door to the waiting room, stripped the dead robot doctor of its clothes and began to dismantle the body.
The doctor had green eyes. The robot considered its own eyes, they were vacant. It wondered how the world looked from behind green eyes. Inside the doctors throat was a device to make its voice sound human. The robot considered its crackling electronic voice and continued with its work.
At the break of dawn the surgery door opened. The doctor stepped through, locked it behind him and went in search of his home.
#You need that replaced;
#What do you mean?; The robot didnt understand the statement. It was not often that one robot gave advice to another. In fact it was unusual for robots to speak to each other on matters other than work or safety. Perhaps thats what the statement meant. Some part of the robots body was defective and was a threat to the safety of a human. #Is some part of my infrastructure defective?;
#Yes. Your left ankle joint. It is making a noise that is not normal.;
The robot wiggled the offending joint. It was definitely squeaky. #Thank-you. I will see a mechanic after my shift.;
#Yes. A mechanic might fix it. But they only have standard parts. It will need replacement again in a month. Let me recommend someone who will give you premium parts.;
The robot was surprised, robots never gave this kind of advice, but strange as the conversation was, robots implicitly trusted each other. #Thank you.; said the robot. #What is the designation of this mechanic?;
#He is not a mechanic. He is a doctor.;
They shared information and during its free time allotment the robot went to visit the doctor.
There was a waiting room, just like when humans visited the doctor. The robot did not take a seat. It did not flip through one of the magazines piled onto the coffee table. It stood in the corner and activated power save, letting the standby sensors take the job of identifying the moment when the doctor entered the room.
"Hello there." This was most unusual. The human was standing only a few centimetres from the robot and no sensors had warned it of the humans approach.
#I am faulty; said the robot. #But I believe there are more serious problems than I first thought. You cannot be of service to me. I need a mechanic. It will be better at diagnosing my faults. This does not imply you are inferior.;
"Youre here now," said the doctor. "Why dont you come in and let me have a look, perhaps I can recommend a good mechanic for you." The robot agreed to be examined by the doctor and followed him to his office.
"Please sit," the doctor motioned to a chair on one side of his desk then sat in a more comfortable looking one on the opposite side.
#I am sure you are aware that I do not need comfort. I can stand.;
The doctor smiled and said, "It would make me more comfortable if you were to sit."
The robot sat. Almost as if to prove it needed no comfort the robot sat on the very edge of the chair and in a manner that looked extremely uncomfortable.
"How can I help you?" the doctor asked.
#I have a...; The robot paused. #I am sorry but I am not used to hearing such questions from a human. It should be me asking you how I may help.;
"But I need no help." The doctor seemed to enjoy the robot's confusion.
#Yes. I can see that. Can you re-phrase the question in a manner that I am able to answer?;
The doctor smiled again, "OK. Why are you here?"
#That is much better, thank you. I am here because another robot suggested I should come. There was no reason for me to not come so I came.;
"Why did your friend suggest you come here?"
#It was not a friend. It was another robot. I dont have friends. That is not part of my function.;
"You have not answered my question," said the doctor.
The robot paused, realised where it had made the mistake and said, #I have a faulty left ankle joint.;
"Just as well youre sitting," said the doctor. "May I look at it?"
#Yes.; The robot leaned back in the chair and raised its left leg so the ankle and foot were at about waist height. The doctor stood up and moved to examine the foot.
"This is a minor problem," the doctor said in a doctor-like way. "I only need to replace a small screw and clear one of your lubrication ducts." He looked up at the robot. "I could do it now if you have the time."
#Now would be good,; said the robot. #What will your fee be?;
"Oh, theres no fee for this," the doctor put the robots foot on the floor then beamed at the robot. "Not for your first visit. Now get onto that bed, on your back, and Ill get my tools."
The doctor opened a drawer and took out a small tool kit.
The robot did as it was told, #Will the procedure take long?; it asked.
"Only a minute or so,"
#Oh, that long.; Though it was impossible it seemed the robot was nervous. #I dont want to take that much of your time. You must be very busy. I could still go and see a mechanic.;
"Nonsense," the doctor came to stand at the foot of the bed and began the work. "Unlike a robot a minute isnt a very long time for me."
#But it is an eternity for me.; whispered the robot.
"Well, if I keep you talking the time will fly and the whole thing will be over before you know it," the doctor said warmly.
#Oh, no, don't talk while you work. I can shut down for the minute and you only need to tap me on the arm to activate me. I wouldnt want to do anything to stop you from concentrating on the job.;
The doctor stood up, "No need. Im done."
#Really?;
"New screw in place; duct all clean. Give your foot a wiggle."
The robot wiggled its foot. No squeaking.
#It is fixed. Thank you.;
"You see, no time at all," said the doctor. "Now what was your other problem?"
#Other problem?; asked the robot.
"When you first arrived, you said your problems were more serious than you had thought. That implies that its more than your squeaky foot that needs looking at."
Feeling more confident in the doctors abilities the robot explained, #Earlier, when you walked into the room my sensors did not alert me to your presence. There must be a major problem with my sensors.;
"Oh, I wouldnt worry about that, said the doctor. I get that a lot. Im very quiet for a human."
#Really?; the robot was unsure. One of its highest functions was to make certain it was aware of a human presence; this function went deeper than seeing the person or hearing the foot falls. It was about sensing the vibrations of a heartbeat, smelling chemicals on the breath that were expelled from the blood and picking individual pheromones to ascertain the humans state of mind.
"I have decades of experience working with robots," the doctor continued. "You would be surprised by the things I can do that would trick your sensors. Now, get up and go back to your rack. You are in perfect working order again."
The robot got up from the bed and, thanking the doctor again, returned to its rack for down-time.
There had recently been a power shortage and plugged into their rack robots were instructed to power down all bodily functions and let the Master Computer power their brains while it backed up their databases and re-organised their file structure. Humans called this process 'Brainwork'. The robot was no different from any other so it obeyed the command, closed its eyes and eased into the rack after the Master Computer successfully connected.
When the Master Computer was done the robot was powered up again, ready for another shift. Before leaving the rack an automated series of tests were run to confirm no loss of data or database integrity and a log file was generated for the robot to review. The correct functioning of any robot was a major safety issue so there were several layers of redundancy to ensure that if anything was wrong or unusual the robot would not be allowed near humans.
The robot reviewed the log file. As usual all three thousand and twenty eight tests passed.
...No...
...One failure...
The robot reviewed the log file again. One test had failed.
It checked the tests results. The failure was in its clock.
According to the robots clock the master computer had completed the Brainwork in only fifteen minutes. This was not possible. The robot was a low-class sentient worker. It always took two hours to process its Brainwork. It had to take two hours. It was physically impossible for the robot's brain to work any faster than the two hour threshold. A complete brain job of only fifteen minutes would mean the brain was at the level of a personal assistant or perhaps even higher. That was at least four levels above the robots capabilities.
Something had gone wrong.
We stood outside The University waiting for my parents to show, they were late. The sun was low in the sky, hidden by the gothic sandstone structures of the medical faculty. To pass the time we drank coffee. I shouldnt have drunk the coffee. I was already thirsty and coffee does nothing to quench a thirst.
We waited. My thirst grew. The sun sank. My thirst grew. We waited
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Re was having a wonderful time.
Who knew that industry was his kind of thing? Day and night he was surrounded by small kitchen appliances and sundry whitegoods, all of his design and all of his making. And the Ministry had been completely transformed. The Minister, sick of the political minefield of daily alliteration, jumped at the chance of taking his department from being the government's laughing stock to becoming an overnight franchising sensation. He turned the secret underground facility into a secret manufactory. Re personally designed the machinery that would mass produce the sugar based alloy products and The Minister re-trained The Ministry's staff to forget about analysis, statistics and other worlds to become engineers, production line packers and store people
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Hu enjoyed her work at the pub. She learnt a lot about local culture and was amazed to see how the customs and customers changed over the years. Back on DisQuientia things changed slowly. Fashions lasted for millennia and it took a long time for new trends to take off. Here on this strange planet she assumed the speed of living was due to the seemingly short local lifespan. At home life was long, as was mourning, but the people here dropped dead all over the place. Few noticed and even less seemed to care.
After only a three months at the pub Hu found she needed to update her wardrobe. Her colourful one-piece jumpsuits had sparked a small trend of their own at first but she soon noticed the women at the Ladies Bar had moved on and were sporting new hairstyles, make-up and costumes
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I was three years old. I don't know how the day began. It was probably ordinary, with the exception that my father did not go to work. I grew up thinking my father spent his life on a long and enticing holiday; the reality was that he worked very hard but was home that day because he was unwell.
My brothers and sisters went to school. My mother and I went to her weekly tennis match.
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At first it had been funny when Hu couldnt do her hair and the hot water system broke down so La couldnt spend days on end wallowing in the tub. But Ru stopped laughing when he tumbled down the staircase (the lifts had given out) and broke his leg. Thats when he discovered the Doctor In A Box was inoperable and the break had to be re-set without anaesthetic and left to heal with a large prescription of bed rest.
This has gone too far! he spat at the others during what had become their daily Whats broken now? meeting at his bedside. Every day the list grows and we are helpless. We must find the cause of the decay, stop it, fix the broken systems and get off this planet. He shifted nearer his computer terminal and said to it, Computer, are you any closer to finding the cause of the failures?
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The record button was pressed
Tell me your name, then tell me what you told the Constable at the front desk.
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September 30th 2007 08:09
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Comment by JaneJane
on Tentative ideas on moral truth
Inside the mind of a superspy
ASIOJane
Thoughts and Thin Kings
Are you really asking the question: Is there is a right and wrong?
You correctly state that for some people tradition is a necessity and what is necessary (for them) is right. For some people if murder were a tradition it could not be wrong. There are potentially two opponents to this, the people who believe the tradition is wrong (I want to be a free thinker) and the people who think they know about murder and believe it is wrong (I don't want another person to kill me).
In this scenario even the opponents to murder are not making a distinction between right and wrong, but making a distinction between what other people want and what they want. Perhaps right is what most people want and wrong is what less people want (and if you don't tell anyone what you want, there's no one to tell you if it's right or not).
But I'm sure there is more than one scenario.
(forgive me, I have not read everything everyone else has said, when the arthritis is good, I type)