Sitting alone in my room I did not notice when my full systems came back on-line. I just sat there. I don’t know how long for. I just sat and stared at the floor. That accounts for all those times when I blacked out. The horrible noise when I tried to speak on that first occasion, the oh so sensitive hearing and the faint continual numbness I felt everywhere.
What had I done to deserve this? Why was I delivered into this purgatory? After some time just sitting, I decided to determine the truth of the matter for myself. I went to stand up and almost fell forward on my face. I was not used to the extra strength in my robotic limbs.
Walking was another thing that I had to get used to. As a human, the inner ear controls balance and the art of walking is second nature. In my robotic body, gyroscopes controlled balance. They did not like my body being in any other position other than seated, upright or lying down. I had to train the robot body and gyros had to get used to the idea that walking was a type of continual loss of balance in the direction I was facing. By moving one foot in front of the other, I managed to undertake some sort of forward motion. Soon though I had the systems under control and ventured outside.
Being a convicted killer, I thought I would be under guard or secured in a maximum-security facility. I was surprised to find that I was free to go where I pleased and I ended up in a large area similar in size to a football stadium. It had tables and chairs scattered about under trees and people were relaxing in the sun.
I walked over to a tree and looked up at the branches. They must have been twelve feet off the ground. I remembered that I had never been much of a climber as a child and this had led to a feeling of alienation from my friends as they had all liked to climb trees. Staring up I wondered if I could jump up and catch the branch. I hunkered down and pushed off with my legs. To my surprise I shot past the lower branches and ended up about thirty feet off the ground hanging to on some six inch thick branch.
“Bravo.” Someone called out. I didn’t recognise the voice but when I looked down I saw the woman who had handed me my clothes. I was gripping the branch so tightly that I actually snapped it off and started to fall. My gyros kicked in and I landed on my feet.
When I walked forward I could see that I had left a two-inch impression in the ground where I had landed. “I guess I have to believe you that I’m a robot,” I said. “I can’t argue with the evidence of my own eyes.”
The woman held out her hand and said, “I’m Ariel Caine. I’m the neurosurgeon who copied your memory and personality for transference. You have no idea how amazing it is to see you operating your new systems as easily as you are. This is going to revolutionise robotics. No more annual maintenance upgrades for neural programming. The ability to learn new skills which rivals that of the human mind. You are the first generation of a true artificial intelligence. It’s amazing don’t you think?”
“Yes,” I responded. What else could I say? I was here and ‘alive’. To all intents and purposes, baring terrible accidents, I was immortal.
*
Over the next few weeks I learnt more about my new robotic systems. I was able to control the grip strength of my hands and the hydraulic power of my legs. I found that I could run extremely fast for hours without tiring and that I could lift things no human could conceive of lifting. Strangely, however, as I discovered my abilities I also felt this growing compunction to help people. This went against my very nature. I was remembering who I was and what I had done. I was a predator not a servitor.
One morning about a month after Dr Vasimo told me the story of my accident and transference, I walked out into the open parkland near the research centre. I saw Dr Vasimo and Dr Caine. They were seated with a man I recognised as the positronic engineer, Dr Michael Desmond. I walked up to the table and asked if I could join them. Dr Vasimo replied, “Of course Rodney. Would you mind grabbing us all another cup of coffee before you sit down?”
“Certainly Dr Vasimo,” I responded in spite of myself. The last thing I wanted to do was wait tables for a bunch of intellectuals. Not able to resist the urge though, I went to the outdoor dispensing stand and collected three coffees and returned to the table. I put them down and saw that there were still only three chairs. I turned to retrieve one for myself when Dr Desmond said, “Rodney, why don’t you stand there and talk?” I wanted a chair to sit in but suddenly found my feet were rooted to the spot. What the hell is going on? I thought. Before I could stop myself I responded to his query by saying, “Certainly Dr Desmond.”
“How are you feeling today Rodney?” asked Dr Vasimo.
“Well,” I responded. “I’m not that entirely sure of what is happening to me. I don’t seem to be the same person I was. I mean, I have my memories and I know I’m not a human being anymore; I can’t do what I want. If someone asks me for help or wants me to do something, I seem compelled to do or help in whatever way I can. What’s going on?”
“I’m glad you asked Rodney,” Dr Vasimo said. “Why don’t I let Drs Caine and Desmond explain the confusion to you?”
“Sure. I just want to know what’s going on. May I sit?” I asked.
“No,” responded Dr Desmond. “For this explanation to work it requires an active demonstration. Please proceed Dr Caine.”
I looked at Dr Caine. As with the others she was seated enjoying the coffee I had just brought to them. She smiled and looked at me. “Rodney. When I was copying your memory and personality engrams, the process was experimental. I didn’t know exactly how the process would work. I tried to cut out those areas of your personality that drove your murderous behaviours. I wasn’t sure how successful I was at that.”
Dr Desmond chimed in then and said, “That’s were I come in Rodney. As I was designing your positronic matrix, Dr Vasimo and I consulted with Dr Caine. She told us of her doubts. She also said that she was uncertain as to whether the transference process would actually work. So, not wanting to waste the matrix I was designing I decided to build in some safety protocols and basic programming.”
He continued by saying, “Your basic programming is that of a servitor unit. You are required, through your programming to assist any human who requests you to perform an action that will benefit them. Additionally, you are restricted in your amount of personal freedom of action. In other words, had the transference not taken effect as well as it has, we still wanted to salvage your robotic unit for servitor work. Does that explain things for you?”
“Yes Dr Desmond, it does. Thank you”, I replied more politely than I felt. I was once a predator, destroying weak links and improving the gene pool. Now, now I’m a butler. How low have I come? Serving those I once preyed on. No court could have conceived a greater punishment for me, I thought.
“Tell me, do you feel any dysfunction?” asked Dr Caine. I was glad she didn’t phrase that question differently as I would have had to tell her that all I wanted to do right now was kill them all. The self-righteous bastards. How could they do this to me?
I turned to look at Dr Caine and I said, “None at all Dr Caine. All systems are functioning at optimal efficiency. Will that be all?” I could have bitten out my tongue, if I had one, at that last comment. How I hated being subservient.
“Yes Rodney,” said Dr Vasimo. “You may go now.” With that dismissal, my body, independent of what I wanted to do turned and left. I wanted nothing more than revenge.
