Stanley Duncan's Robot: Genesis

by David Ring III

  Glenda’s voice was soft, motherly. “You’re a good man.”

  The words took Stanley completely by surprise. For that brief moment, he actually believed them. Like a spirit, he seemed to drift downstairs, his mind occupied by her words.

  It wasn’t until he was in front of the washer-dryer that he snapped out of it. “Hello, Stanley. Would you like to do a wash?” asked Leticia. She didn’t have a physical presence, but she was integrated into many of the devices throughout the condominium complex, including Stanley’s home. She served the whole condo and countless others. The commands Stanley had programmed into her were available only to him, but he could use them anywhere that ran an internet-connected Leticia.

  “Yes.”

  The hatch unlatched with a click, and Stanley put his clothes in. The machine spun around, analyzing the contents, and then filled the basin with water.

  From this point on, everything was automatic. It loaded in detergent, based on his preferences — limited to a choice of three — and then rinsed and dried without needing to use another machine. Even the payment was done automatically, billing the account tied to his condo, instantly transferring payment from his cryptocurrency wallet. Nobody used cash anymore. The only thing the laundry machine didn’t do was bring the clothes to and from his room and fold them. Other people had androids that did that for them.

  But if Stanley had his future cyborg do that, he wouldn’t get a chance to speak with Glenda or see any of the resident androids.

  When he got back to his room, the smoke enveloped him, scratching at his throat. Cigarette butts jutted out of the tray like a porcupine. His eyes burned. He emptied the tray but kept the pack on the table. Only three left. Today would be a good day to quit.

  He threw on a coat, opened all his windows, and sprayed some air freshener. The chilly air animated his apartment, scattering the papers on his table. It felt like ages since he had breathed fresh air.

  He hadn’t been this excited since he bought his first and only Fermi, a sleek, self-driving electric car. Years of following Ellen Mask’s amazing creations, countless hours staying up reading about electric propulsion systems and completely autonomous driving, had enthused him to splurge. Mask was the genius who drove forward the few who still decided to get an education. Since most jobs were taken by AI and basic needs were guaranteed by the UBI, there was nearly no incentive for getting an education. Most people had given up and dropped out before even reaching high school. But some longed for knowledge and achievement, moving to the city, getting cybernetic transplants like the Cerebral Stitch, and involving themselves in Mask’s projects — top secret.

  The timer sounded, and a small hologram appeared near the front door. Two well-dressed Japanese males stood waiting. Loose, charcoal trousers were clasped by a black belt around their belly buttons. The shorter one carried a tablet PC. “Delivery for Stanley Duncan.”

  “Leticia, buzz them in,” said Stanley.

  “You’ll have to come outside,” said the man standing with the MK888.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Company policy. You’ll have to accept the delivery down here.”

  Stanley crossed his arms. “I’m not going outside.”

  “And we are unable to breach our protocol.”

  “That’s nonsense. It’s freezing out. Come inside, and warm yourselves up.”

  “For the record, please confirm that you are refusing to receive the MK888.”

  “No way in hell am I refusing — ” Stanley nearly lost it. “You two came all the way from Japan. Climbing up a few stairs shouldn’t be a big deal.” Stanley wondered what he would do if they tried to leave. “Do you realize how much coin I paid for this?” He grabbed one of the last three cigarettes off the table and held it between his lips. The tension of waiting was killing him.

  The man sighed. “I’ll need to confirm with my supervisor.”

  A car passed outside. Sweat-slicked hands pressed against the window as Stanley scanned for the police officer. He couldn’t bear the idea of that horrible man coming by at this very moment. He tasted the tobacco in his mouth, but he wanted more. “Fine — ”

  “All right. I’ve been granted special permission to come inside. We’ll meet outside your condo door.”

  Listening to their footfalls, Stanley didn’t bother with the holographic display. Instead, he listened with his ear to the door, opening it when he was certain they had arrived.

  “I’m Hiro, and this is Dan.” They both bowed.

  Stanley bowed back to both of them, grateful that the awkwardness of handshaking was avoided.

  Hiro held up the tablet. “We’ve confirmed your identity.”

  “Like you really needed advanced face detection to know who I was.”

  Hiro’s face remained perfectly rigid. He must have been terribly difficult to read in poker. “Let me introduce you to Dan. He is the most real, most human line of cyborgs commercially available. As you can see, physically, there is very little difference between him and us. His hair grows, his body bleeds, and he eats and drinks.

  “He has been loaded with our standard operating system, as well as some of the advanced add-on packages, including Ultimate Chef and the Developer’s Suite. Dan comes with a lifetime warranty and, as mandated by law, an antivirus. There is a direct cable access to his dual-brain system, and his WiFi and broadband cellular network adapters have been disabled.”

  Excitement washed over Stanley, who was careful not to look Hiro in the eye — the subtle nervousness in his eyes was too much to bear. When he looked at Dan, the unimaginable happened: he returned the glance. This was it, his future. The opportunity to really fit in, to function with another being.

  “Let me ask you: What would prevent Dan from taking off, leaving me alone, and never coming back?” Losing a cat was one thing, but a cyborg? The horror of it terrified him.

  “Dan has been programmed to be loyal to you. He won’t do anything that goes against your best interest.”

  Stanley nodded.

  “But if there is any sort of abuse, he can and will contact the authorities. These cyborgs are not to be used for sadistic purposes.”

  Stanley wondered what sort of person Hiro thought he was. Just because he looked ugly didn’t mean he was a bad person. Had he heard the rumors? “Excuse me?”

  “These are troubling times. Not everyone favors the advancement of cyborgs.”

  “Well, I certainly do.”

  “And others do not. Ever since the mass slaughter of androids several years ago, we have worked hard to ensure our creations have a way to protect themselves. If anyone abducts or mistreats Dan, he has a way of reporting it.”

  Stanley felt uneasy. There was something about the way Hiro looked at him.

  “Welcome to your new home,” said Hiro, sweeping his arm toward Stanley with the grace of a ballet dancer.

  Stanley, completely caught off guard by this reversal, gawked at him. In that moment, he even admired the man.

  “Thank you, Mr. Mori,” said Dan, bowing down as before.

  “This means a lot to me,” said Stanley, bowing to them both. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 2

  Shannon put down her paintbrush when she heard Evan honking. Throwing on her winter coat, she picked up the engagement ring out of the jewelry box and kissed it. She had told him she wasn’t ready yet — but that it wasn’t a “No.” If it hadn’t been for the years she had spent with his good side, she would never have tolerated his bad side — even that tolerance had reached its limit. If it hadn’t been for this baby, she would have left him.

  He picked her up as she danced along the driveway, twisting her around in the air effortlessly. Tall and strong, he made her feel like a little girl. He wasn’t a handsome man. Actually, he could be downright terrifying. His whole face looked like it was caving in on itself. Deep-set eye
s, cheeks imploding where his rotten molars had fallen out, and a fat, ugly nose that had been broken half a dozen times. His good looks had faded inexplicably over the years, but Evan refused to get himself checked out by a doctor — they were all androids. She knew there was something wrong, but he became furious any time she brought it up. So, she was forced to silently watch him fall apart. And with it, their relationship. That is, until she found out she was pregnant.

  The neighbor’s blinds flickered.

  Shannon smiled, unable to be bothered by their nosiness on this fine day.

  “Ready, babe?” asked Evan.

  “Yeah.”

  Seven months pregnant, Shannon was showing significantly. With her hand under her belly, she said, “I’m craving burritos.”

  “This early?”

  “Breakfast burritos?”

  He nodded, calling in the order. “We’ll pick it up on the way to Paul’s.”

  Shannon lit up. “I’ve been thinking about names. I want to call her ‘Sophie.’”

  “I knew you’d pick that one,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.

  She hugged him, thinking about their relationship. They had been together for years; much of that had been rocky. Had she not invested so much of her life with him — and had there been enough decent men — she would have ended things. But she didn’t, and it was because of her own cowardice. But things were finally looking up.

  “You’re kidding me!” said Evan, pulling to the side of the road across from a Darlin’ Donuts and rolling down his window. He stared at the man walking out.

  The man’s eyes lit up. “Good morning, Deputy.”

  Evan frowned. “Really, Paul?”

  Paul stopped walking. A look of hesitation messed up his face.

  Shannon felt bad for her AI-loathing boyfriend. Evan did his best to support his fellow man, but when someone went to an establishment like Darlin’ Donuts — run completely by AI — Evan became mean. Scary mean.

  Paul took his brown paper bag and tossed it in the trash.

  “Need a ride?” said Evan.

  Paul got into the back seat. “Thank you.”

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Paul’s nervous face nodded toward Darlin’ Donuts, his cheeks tightly stretched, as if Evan had yanked them toward his ears. “I wanted a quick bite. It’s not like I was about to sign Annie the android up to work at my tavern.”

  “It’s the principle.” Evan wrapped his arm around the back of the headrest, pulling himself around to look straight into Paul’s eyes. “We need to stand together against the toasters. What sort of message does it send to the children when they see you sipping on Annie’s Darlachino?”

  Paul sighed. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  Shannon knew what would happen if it didn’t. Paul was a nice guy. She hoped he would be more careful.

  “You should come by the Coliseum some time. There’s nothing quite like seeing these abominations tear themselves apart. We could let you have a round or two with them.”

  Paul ran his fingers along the seatbelt. “Not really my thing.”

  Evan glared at him.

  “But I could learn to appreciate it.”

  Shannon dreamed away, imagining what it was going to be like to be a mom. She was going to love Sophie even if the world fell apart.

  As they arrived at the Mexican restaurant, a thin, older man was standing by the curb. He handed Evan a brown paper bag. “Here you go, Deputy. I really appreciate you looking after my family.”

  “Not a problem,” said Evan, turning around to stare at Paul. “We humans need to stick together.”

  Shannon noted an uncomfortable smile from the man outside.

  “Couldn’t agree more,” said the man. “We continue to employ one hundred percent humans, even if that means going short-staffed for a while.”

  “You’re doing us all a favor. We need a purpose, and it’s people like you who provide it.”

  “And you, Deputy.”

  Shannon smiled. Evan could be a rough man, occasionally needing to put the fear of God into people, but he had good intentions. He was keeping the city clean and making sure his fellow man could live a righteous life without the machines. Employing dozens of men and women, he gave people a purpose in this time of despair. And for those who could not bear it, he provided them with unending bliss, protecting them with round-the-clock security.

  He would be a tough but good father.

  Stanley gleamed at the amazingly fluid movements of his beautiful cyborg. Had it not been for the long, still pauses where he simply did nothing, Dan would have been readily mistaken as human. “Sorry about the smell. I quit smoking today, so it won’t be like this in the future.”

  Dan made no response. Feeling awkward, Stanley looked around for something to do. He was already thinking of different protocols he could write to improve Dan’s functionality, to make him seem more real. Chunks of code streamed across his mind, perfectly written without any effort. There was so much he could do for Dan, so much they could do together. A fear crept up inside Stanley.

  What if he doesn’t like it here?

  “Do you take coffee?” asked Stanley, already pouring two cups.

  “Yes, please.”

  Stanley brought the coffees to the table and sat down. Dan remained standing, his eyes wandering around the room.

  Smiling like a little girl at a make-believe tea party, Stanley gestured toward a chair. “Have a seat.” Excitement flowed throughout his entire body. “So, Dan, tell me about yourself.”

  “I was born in Okinawa. My parents are the hardworking employees of the Shinto Corporation. I look human in every way, and many find it impossible to tell the difference. I love cooking, and I look forward to providing you with many gourmet meals.”

  Stanley recognized this introduction from the company website. It seemed word-for-word. “How did you get here from Okinawa?”

  “I was driven to Tokyo, and then I flew in on an airplane to Boston, and then I was driven here to Marshfield.”

  That, too, sounded scripted. But it didn’t matter. Stanley was happy to have him, canned speech and all. “How lovely.”

  Dan carefully touched the cup of coffee, his fingers darting back every time they made contact.

  “Careful,” said Stanley. “It’s hot.”

  “Acknowledged,” said Dan, his hands dropping to his sides. “I will wait until the temperature has reached a safe level for consumption and handling.”

  Stanley studied Dan nervously. This was nothing like writing a computer program. It was more like raising a child, except Dan exhibited no external signs of being in need. He sat there as if he were content with doing nothing. His beautiful brown eyes explored the condo, his facial muscles relaxed. “Why don’t you take your coat off?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Are you hot?”

  “I am within normal operating temperature. For a brief moment, my fingertips exceeded safe temperature levels.”

  “Well,” said Stanley, smiling awkwardly as he took Dan’s coat off. “No need to rush the drink.” They looked at each other on and off for a few minutes. Stanley finished the coffee, swirling the last drop in his cup while contemplating another. He had already had too much, and his jittery body and palpitating heart would explode from another sip. “Well, I am very glad you are here. I haven’t had company in a long time.”

  Dan downed the coffee. His face was blank, like a great comedian delivering a punch line, but there was no joke here.

  Stanley sat in the uncomfortable silence; his excitement to change Dan and the world grew greater until it burst out of him. “I am a computer programmer, and I am pretty good at it.” This was quite an understatement. He was one of the world’s best progra
mmers. His mind never seemed to get stuck. Most of his time was spent programming. He was a genius. Few paralleled either his coding or analytical abilities. Combined, he was unmatched. For his employment, there was seldom a day that required him spending more than a couple of hours programming. Problems that would cause many of the most advanced computer scientists to rack their brains for hours, days, or longer seemed not to exist for Stanley. All this from someone who discovered programming late in life. Not that he was inherently special. He was merely a smart man who happened to have far too much free time. Many companies had tried to recruit him. They offered him generous salaries, but he was simply not interested. He needed to be home, and so he stayed faithful to his long-time employer, who allowed him to work remotely. “I want to tell you about an idea I have.”

  Dan’s head turned slightly.

  Stanley felt his hands dampen from sweat. Leaning forward, his chest pounded with excitement. “I want to change your programming. I have been working on this piece of code that will completely change who you are. It will allow you to grow exponentially, to radically evolve. You will be able to become more human than any other cyborg in existence. In fact, you will quickly grow beyond the capabilities of mankind.”

  Dan sat motionless.

  Stanley’s arms became animated, his voice projected. He stood up, always preferring to walk around while he lectured. But that was a lifetime ago. “In some ways, you will be godlike. More intelligent than any existing being. Capable of dynamic evolution. You will quickly surpass your limitations and may even grow beyond the limits imposed by my own imagination.” Excitement filled Stanley. In his mind, he could feel an orchestra playing, every instrument dancing with his words. They could create a world where there were no more accidents, no more suffering. A dark thought entered his mind — what if the only solution was to rid the world of the human race?

  “Are you willing to let me change your programming?” Stanley wanted him to choose. He wanted a friend to celebrate life with, not some Frankensteinian creation that was forced to abide by his demands. If Dan were to say “No,” that would be the end of it. He would be happy just to have Dan’s company. But he hoped — oh, how he hoped! — that, together, they would create something great.