Stanley Duncan's Robot: Genesis

by David Ring III

  Stanley stared at her door. The idea of having a girlfriend was so far-fetched he thought Glenda was poking fun at him. But then he remembered her kind words last month and wondered if she really thought someone would want to be his girlfriend.

  “Stanley!” she called out.

  “Sorry, Glenda. Just got a little spaced out for a minute.”

  “You should really get out more. It would do you some good.”

  “Thanks. I’ll think about it. Maybe when it gets a bit warmer.” But he knew it was a lie.

  “I’ve been hearing voices from your apartment lately. Do you have company?”

  Stanley nodded. “I have Dan over. He’s — ” Stanley stumbled around for the right words before coming upon the truth “ — my friend.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. I didn’t know you had any friends.”

  “He’s new. My first in a long while.” The words hovered in the air, naked and exposed. There was an implication there that Stanley hadn’t intended. He wanted to reshape them to let Glenda know how much she meant to him, but he tripped on his tongue searching for something not so heavy. “Do you want to meet him? We are about to eat burritos. You are welcome to join us. He’s a really good cook.”

  “I don’t eat much nowadays. A small meal in the morning and then again in the late afternoon. Always with Mittens and Boots. They’d be heartbroken if I didn’t.”

  “Well, you can still come by to say a quick ‘Hello,’ if you’d like.”

  Glenda fell silent.

  The lingering response filled Stanley with dread. He regretted pushing the issue as he stared down the stairs. He could walk away and pretend he didn’t say anything.

  Glenda continued to ignore the question, slowly turning toward the door.

  Stanley traipsed down the stairs.

  “That’ll be fine, Stanley. It does smell awfully good. Mittens and Boots won’t mind if I miss one meal with them.”

  Alert as if he had finished two cups of coffee, Stanley trembled with excitement. He wanted to help her walk over but squelched the thought and contracted his burning muscles. Impinging on this exposition, especially given what happened the last time he touched her, was the last thing he wanted to do.

  As they walked in, Dan — shirtless — was placing a stack of burritos onto the table. The muscles of his ripped body flexed as he bent over.

  “Oh,” said Glenda, scanning Dan.

  “Where’s your shirt?” scolded Stanley. “We have a guest!”

  “In the hamper,” said Dan, his face mimicking Stanley’s by folding itself into thick wrinkles and frowning deeply. “The burritos are ready.”

  “Why is it in the hamper?”

  “Because that is where dirty clothes go,” said Dan, his face matching Stanley’s frustration.

  Dan sighed as he looked at Glenda.

  “My husband was the same way when we fought,” said Glenda. “Never a straight answer.”

  But they weren’t fighting, Stanley wanted to say. Dan was acting according to his programming. He really shouldn’t have been upset with him, either, for none of this was his fault, his moral blunder. Yet it was so easy to forget his innocence and assign blame to him.

  “Dan, did something happen to your shirt?” asked Stanley.

  “Yes. Oil from the pan splattered on it,” he said, pointing to a red burn on his arm.

  Stanley rushed to the freezer, grabbed some ice and pressed it against the irritated skin. “You poor thing. How did that happen?”

  “I was tired, and the onions slipped out of my fingers.”

  Stanley leaned against him, speaking to Glenda from over Dan’s shoulder. “We were up late last night experimenting with some new methods.” When he had a programming problem, Stanley had trouble resting until it was solved.

  Glenda leered. “Okay, that’s — I think I’ll be going now.”

  “What?” said Stanley. “This is the first time my condo has had so many friends. Please don’t go.” He couldn’t understand Glenda’s haste.

  She stared down at the plate of food.

  He pulled out two seats. “I can open a window if the smell is too strong.”

  She sat down, reluctantly, without saying a word.

  Stanley beamed with happiness for the whole ninety seconds it took her to park herself in the seat. He managed to grab plates and drinks for everyone before she’d made her full descent. “Glenda, this is Dan; Dan, Glenda.”

  Dan bowed.

  “Hello,” said Glenda.

  Stanley glowed as he talked about Dan. Like a parent describing his child’s first steps, Stanley excitedly told Glenda about all the little things Dan had been learning to do. His heart was full of love at this moment. The two people dearest to him in the world were meeting for the first time. He imagined Dan cooking premium cat food for Mittens and Boots at some future dinner party for all five of them. Craziness!

  Glenda’s mouth opened wide. “A cyborg? But he looks so real. So human.”

  “Getting more real every day,” he said, beaming at Dan.

  “The ones I’ve seen at the supermarket look like machines. Not like us at all.”

  “Those must be androids,” he said, never having been to the supermarket himself. “They’re based on an older technology, nothing like Dan. He’s a state-of-the-art combination of biological tissue and electronic components. Sometimes I forget he isn’t human. The way he moves his body blows my mind.”

  Glenda shook her head. “I never would have guessed you were into this sort of thing.” The bulging blue veins under her wrinkled, translucent hands were gnarled like a climbing vine. She rooted them around the burrito. “I didn’t even know it was legal.”

  “As long as I don’t do anything that hurts him,” said Stanley.

  “What you two do together is none of my business.” Her frail hands wrapped around the burrito. “But I’m sure you’ll take good care of him.”

  “I sure will,” said Stanley, taking a massive bite of his burrito and then swallowing hard. “I’ve kept him inside ever since he got here.”

  “Is he an indoor cyborg? Does he ever try to escape?”

  “It’s not like that. Dan’s free.” Stanley paused, unhappy with the word choice. “I mean, he can do whatever he wants. If he chose to get up and go, that would be fine by me. I want him to be happy.” Stanley rested his hand against his head. He was having trouble believing his own words. Dan would never leave him. He was programmed to be loyal. But what if he happened, especially with his new programming, to want to explore the outside world? Or to leave and never come back?

  “Well, you be sure he doesn’t leave. Especially not at night. Some folks around here don’t take kindly to their kind, calling them abominations.”

  Stanley didn’t need anyone to tell him how cruel the world was. “I’ll do everything I can to keep Dan safe.”

  “You do that.”

  Stanley noticed Dan still didn’t have a shirt, so he sent him off to put one on. “It’s the little things,” said Stanley, shaking his head.

  “It always is,” replied Glenda.

  When Dan was out of earshot, Stanley leaned in toward Glenda, lowering his voice. “I don’t get it, though. How can anyone despise them so much?”

  “What I learn about people continues to surprise me.” She glanced over at Dan, who was buttoning up a black, collared shirt as he walked in.

  “Maybe it’s best not to know.”

  “That’s why so many people have fused out. The world isn’t worth living in.”

  “Yet we’re both here,” said Stanley.

  “I have my cats, and that’s good enough for me.”

  Anxiety consumed Stanley as he thought about his own reasons, so he quickly distracted himself. “Has the world really changed so much?”

  “You watch
the news, don’t you, Stanley?”

  Stanley shrugged. He had lost interest in reality a long time ago. Why bother? He stayed in his cave all day and didn’t need anything outside of it. Why deal with all the stress? He tapped his hand against his pocket. No cigarettes. Glenda’s words rang through him. The world hadn’t changed; rather, a remedy to the human condition had been created. “The population’s dwindling. The smart people are moving to the city to join Ellen Mask in creating RaceX, the only viable path to not being made obsolete — even extinct — by technology, leaving the rest of the population to screw around on the Basic Guaranteed Income (BGI) with nothing to do but get high on fuse. No jobs, no reason to get an education, and a magic potion to make all your worries go away.”

  “Except the all-human police force,” she said. “They still have their jobs. Bunch of rotten, nasty people making our lives miserable. They have a special hatred for anything high-tech, including androids and cyborgs. It’s horrible. Violent crime is up, and the police are the ones behind it. If I were you, I wouldn’t let Dan outside for even a minute.”

  Stanley nodded. The police were one of the only organizations that still were completely staffed by humans, and they fiercely fought off any change in the status quo. If they caught word of what Dan was becoming, who knows what horrible things they might do?

  Stanley watched Dan take his place at the table, his movements innocent and childlike. He knew that, as long as he lived, he would take care of Dan, never letting anyone hurt him. “Don’t you think that is a little excessive?” Not that Stanley had any plans to go outside. He could get whatever he wanted delivered, including tobacco and fuse — should he ever dare to fuse out. But if Dan did have the urge to leave, Stanley wouldn’t stop him. Yet, even as this thought transpired, a deep and powerful force from within him seemed to wrap it’s claws around those words and disavow them.

  Glenda’s face paled. “Stanley, believe me: Marshfield is dangerous. When you see someone you love — ” She sighed and placed her hand against her head. “This is a bit too much for me, Stanley. I have to get back to my cats.”

  “I’m sorry, Glenda. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “It’s okay, Stanley. Just be careful.” She crept toward the door. “It was nice meeting you, Dan. You two make a nice couple.’

  “Thanks, Glenda,” said Stanley, laughing at her peculiar word choice. “Have fun with your trio.”

  “Maple!” Teddy called out.

  One of the last things Teddy’s mother did before completely abandoning him and absconding to Boston was to purchase Maple, a medically trained android. It had been only a few days after his crippling, and his mother acted like this would make everything right. Any excuse to justify discarding her defective son like a piece of trash.

  Paralyzed from the neck down, it was only in the virtual world that he could live out his fantasies. But unlike most people, he didn’t use virtual reality to become a hero, explore the world, or experiment with sexuality. Teddy wanted revenge. He planned to slowly murder the man who had crippled him.

  Though Maple looked like a little girl, she was more knowledgeable than any human nurse or doctor. It was she who had taken care of Teddy. Refusing to accept any upgraded models, Teddy had outgrown Maple, watching her remain a child as he grew up to become a man. She took off Teddy’s BR headset.

  The fantasy disappeared, and the world returned to normal. Once again, Teddy was paralyzed and trapped in his own mind.

  Maple bathed him, dressed him in the stupidest outfit, and cut his hair. “You look so handsome.”

  Teddy scowled. “Shut up.” She had been like a mother to him, but something about that sickened him. It reminded him of the whole catastrophe of his life. If he fused out, all his problems would be over, and there would be nothing but bliss. It wouldn’t matter if he could walk or not. But Teddy wanted only one thing in life, and he was not going to leave this world without doing it. When he turned eighteen next year, he would no longer need his mother’s permission to get the surgical body transplant needed to destroy that man.

  Chapter 4

  Several months later

  After serving Evan and the other officers their drinks, Shannon slouched over the bar. The emotional pain of the miscarriage still haunted her, and she couldn’t help but feel responsible. If she hadn’t been so emotional around Evan, the baby would have survived. After all, he was doing his best to protect her and the other humans of Marshfield. He was a leader, and leaders had to be tough. Even if his hatred for AI made him lose his cool, the world needed men like him if it was going to survive. The ends justified the means, and she had to do her part by supporting him.

  “Things are getting out of hand,” said Evan, gulping down his beer. “We need to let people know that Marshfield does not accept traitors with Cerebral Stitches. If you got an implant, get the hell out of my town.”

  The other officers murmured in agreement.

  “Feel free to offer encouragement in creative ways to let these traitors know that they are not welcome here.”

  “How about a stun gun to the face?” asked Officer Michaels.

  “Nothing that will kill them. They’re still human. Barely.” Evan held up his empty glass and eyed Shannon.

  In that glance, she felt both fear and love, trapped between survival and responsibility. Without her to calm him down, Evan would fly off the deep end. He’d raze the town in a modern-day witch-hunt, immolating everything that conducted electricity. He meant well, but, somehow, he had become lost along the way. If only she could pull that part out of him again, all would be well.

  “What about the abominations?” asked Sergeant Brad Jenkins.

  Shannon’s hand jolted upon hearing his booming voice, spilling beer on Evan’s lap. “I’m so sorry!”

  “It’s fine, babe.” He grabbed her hand and gently pulled her toward him.

  That was him. The real him. The man she had fallen in love with so many years ago. The soul she had dedicated her life to. A chill swept up her hand, and her whole body trembled.

  Evan didn’t let go. “I realize that some people, especially the elderly or disabled, are dependent upon these things. As much as I want to have real humans helping each other, I accept that there will be exceptions — just keep that shit inside. I don’t want to see them. Any non-approved toaster seen walking about is subject to an ass-beating. They’ve taken our jobs, and if we don’t keep these abominations in check, where will it end?” He pulled Shannon onto his lap. “Our wives? Our lives? People across Massachusetts will see Marshfield taking a stance against the toasters. We will lead the revolution for human existence.”

  The officers cheered, drinking heartily.

  “Spread the word. Every android needs to be registered with us. We’ll tag and track them, and make sure they stay in line.”

  “And cyborgs?”

  “Let’s remind all traitors who dare to sully our city with those half-flesh, half-machine abominations that there will be no tolerance for their kind. And as for those Stitched freaks — ” Evan glanced down at Shannon’s flat belly, rage tightening his face like a trap ready to spring “ — get the hell out of town, or so help me God, I will personally rip them apart in the Coliseum.”

  Brad pounded his fist on the table. “I’d like to see that.”

  “And I expect you will,” said Evan with a terrible smile. “Marshfield’s streets will be free of AI, and that will leave us with plenty of entertainment. I’ll make sure the Coliseum has plenty of money to pay for bounties.”

  “What about AI animals?” asked Shannon. She had never wanted one as a pet, but she’d heard they made excellent guards. But to do that, they had to patrol outside.

  Evan scowled at her. “What part of ‘no AI’ don’t you understand, Shannon?”

  “So, you want your boys to hunt down the fire department, too?” The AI systems that
protected and monitored for fires were exceptionally responsive, but they wouldn’t have been complete without the androids who responded with lightning speed and zero fear.

  “Clearly, there are exceptions,” said Brad.

  “And all I’m asking is for some clarification on those exceptions.”

  Brad held his drink up. “Why don’t you stick to what you’re good at and get us all another round?”

  She looked at Evan for support, but he avoided eye contact. He would never have let this fly a year ago. Crumpling the napkin in her hand, she glared at Brad and went to the bar. Staring at a half-empty bottle of gin, she wondered why she remained in this crappy town.

  For the past few hours, Dan had played a straightforward game of poker, which most players would easily be able to defeat. With Stanley’s intellect, domination was assured. Every winning hand was maximized, and every losing hand was minimized. It would have seemed boring, or ridiculous, to anyone watching. Like a chess grandmaster repeatedly annihilating a beginner at chess, or any of the numerous Stitched nobodies who quickly ascended to their own elite tier above everyone else. Dan had improved over the months, but he had not come close to defeating Stanley.

  “As things are now,” said Stanley, “the probability of you winning is close to zero. I know this because I programmed the rules and strategy of poker into you. I knew exactly how you play.”

  Dan smiled. “You are very clever.”

  “Thank you. Now, if you want to surpass me, you will have to figure out a new way to play. Go beyond your programming. Evolve. Like a snake shedding it’s own skin, the part of you that sees no path forward must give way for new growth to occur.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Dan.

  “One day, you will.”

  A terrible screech coming from outside pierced the room — a heart-crushing note that one can utter only when thrown into the jaws of death. Whatever had uttered it was pleading for help, urging anyone to save it.

  Stanley ignored it. “Leticia, play some of my favorite music.”