“Let’s start with androids, which are basically computers made to look like people. They have no biological parts, and their brain is pure electronics. Some androids utilize larger computers to think, sort of like how a Fermi drives with the fleet, or Darlin’ Donut’s Annie can make all the coffees and sandwiches without saying anything. There are better examples, too, like in war, but I don’t want to bring up bad memories.” Stanley remembered the military drones that were employed during the riots, and how effective they were at suppressing people.
“Human-born cyborgs are humans who have had surgery to insert a Cerebral Stitch.”
“Getting Stitched,” said one of the boys.
“Stitched-up,” said another.
“Snitches get stiches,” said the one without the Sessen. The other two turned to him and shook their heads.
“Yes. Yes. We have all sorts of fun names for the special threads that are implanted into the brain after boring through with a laser. It permits high-bandwidth communication with computers. In other words, while most of us are limited to explaining things through words, someone with a Cerebral Stitch can send tons of digital information super-fast. After training, this allows them to control a cursor with their mind, control a mechanical body, revitalize body parts that had been disabled through nerve damage, or interface with computers at previously impossible speeds. Nowadays, because of provably unhackable technology, it is more common to have wireless communication integrated with them.”
“But how can we know that someone isn’t going to be messing with our minds?” asked Frank.
“Great question,” said Stanley. “Nothing is ever truly hackproof. Take that from someone who — ” He looked at the inquisitive eyes of the boys and wondered how many young minds were watching him. “Er — just take my word for it.”
“But it’s unhackable,” said Sessen-less boy. “So you kinda can’t hack it, right?”
“Well,” said Stanley, playing with his hands. “Yes and no. For example, if there is a secure transmission between two parties over an unhackable line, someone need only hijack one of those parties to bypass that line’s security. There have also been rumors that the Cerebral Stitch changes the neurosynaptic organization of the brain to make it more efficient. That would mean it used some sort of additional software, which is illegal if someone didn’t know it was being installed. Such a thing could be done even if the transmissions were hackproof.”
“Scary,” said Frank. “But maybe still worth the risk.”
Dan nodded to Stanley.
“Ah, yes. So, moving on. Lab-grown cyborgs are generally what is meant when someone says ‘cyborg.’ Like a human-born cyborg, they have a Cerebral Stitch except that it is much larger and threads across the entire brain. At its core is an electronic computer, which can process and store data. It comes preconfigured with different data sets, which enable the cyborg to have certain skills, like cooking or marksmanship — ”
“Or blow jobs,” said one of the boys, igniting a cacophony of laughter, howls, and praises from all three boys.
“Aren’t you a little too young to — ” Stanley sighed, turning to Dan for help.
“Go on,” he said, after the tumult had settled.
“So you have the electronic computer, a Cerebral Stitch which branches out in all directions like a starfish, and a human brain that develops over it all. Altogether, this is called the dual-brain system. Like the human part of the brain, the bodies of cyborgs are created using genetically engineered tissue from humans who have responded well to the Cerebral Stitch. An adult human body is grown in a lab, and its brain forms around the large Cerebral Stitch, forming the dual-brain system, which is advanced enough to be programmed. They create an adult with no memories except those that are programmed into the dual brain. Because of that, virtual sense organs can be created that mold according to how you use it. For some, it might be photographic reading, seeing words on a page and instantly understanding them, or even more crazy, being able to download a file, like a book or a movie, and processing it immediately.”
Muffled snickers and wheezes continued to erupt, but they didn’t distract Stanley. He eyed the boys, warning them not to interrupt him. They turned red, lips and cheeks threatening to burst, but they managed to hold in their silliness.
“Then we have Dan, here,” said Stanley, squeezing him. “He is a lab-grown cyborg. I programmed him, creating a new sense organ that enables him to experience anything virtually, and encoding that as memory. So, if he wanted to learn how to play the trumpet, he could download instructions and videos on playing the trumpet, creating conceptual ideas on how to play, and then test and improve these concepts virtually. For him, it would be like waking up from a dream and knowing how to play the trumpet.”
“Interestingly enough,” said Dan, “I don’t know how to play the trumpet or any other instrument.”
“Do you want to?”
“No. Not really. It doesn’t serve any practical use for me.”
“Maybe that’ll change when you meet a girl you like,” said Stanley. “I remember writing poetry when — no, I’m not going down that tangent. Now, where was I?” He wondered how his ex-fiancée Donna was and if her husband had written poetry for her.
Dan smiled. “You were talking about how great I was.”
“Ah, yes. A big moment for Dan occurred when we were playing poker. After months of losing, he started downloading data from the internet and using it to create a new strategy. It took him a while to integrate the new data, but it was one of the first major steps that told me things were working.”
“And now Stanley can’t beat me at poker anymore,” said Dan.
“Here we go again,” said Stanley, smiling. “Okay, that’s it.”
“One more thing,” said Dan. “If anyone needs help, man or machine, please reach out to me. If I want to change the world, I have to actually start doing it.”
“Thank you, boys,” said Frank, dismissing the children.
Dan patted the sweat off Stanley’s forehead.
“How’s your following?” asked Frank.
“Skyrocketing! How’d you get them to do that?”
“I told them that if they didn’t help you, I would call their parents to complain about them coming to my store high.”
“I really appreciate that.”
“It’s a good start, but I don’t think little boys are the market we’re looking for,” said Stanley.
“Really?” said Frank. “You’re looking into the future, my friend. Who better to hear your message than children?”
Stanley shrugged.
“I’ve got one more for you. The principal of Marshfield High is a friend of mine. I have a feeling he’d love to meet you.”
“And be around all those adolescents? No, thank you.” Stanley could still hear those boys cackling in the distance — or was that in his mind?
Dan nudged him. “Come on. It’d be a great opportunity.”
Frank watched him in admiration. “That’s right. If the world knew what you have created, Stanley, they would have hope again. Imagine how many Americans you would be saving from fusing out for the rest of their life.”
“What’s so bad about fuse?” asked Dan.
“That’s a good question.” Frank looked lost in thought.
Stanley waited, but he never answered. There had been so many lives lost to fuse. He wondered who Frank had lost.
The conversation took a less-serious tone. Frank told them about himself. He’d had a fascination with robots and computers since he’d been a child. His wife, however, didn’t quite feel the same way, refusing to allow any in the house.
“They say opposites attract. Must be so,” said Frank.
“How’d you get into the supermarket business?” asked Stanley.
“The wife’s idea,” he said. “I had always
wanted to be a programmer but was never any good at it. So, why beat a dead horse?”
“Why, indeed,” said Dan.
“Plus,” said Frank, “I got to be around these guys” — he motioned toward the androids — “who, believe it or not, were cutting-edge in those days. The customers loved them.”
“Was there any resentment because of the workers they displaced?” asked Dan.
“Not really,” said Frank. “This was a couple of years after the whole Texas debacle, and the Basic Guaranteed Income had already been established. I had always thought people would be happy not to work.”
Stanley nodded enthusiastically. A large corporation had test-piloted the complete replacement of workers at all of its fast-food restaurants across the state. It had completely shocked him when an angry gang of unemployed workers fought back, launching a state-wide attack against the machines that had freed them from their jobs, killing or decommissioning an entire fleet of androids. He never understood how people were so spiteful of this gift.
Dan stared at Frank. “Would you be?”
Frank struggled to come up with an answer but was saved when an elderly lady drove up to him in a scooter, demanding to be serviced by a human cashier. “Be right with you, ma’am. Please make your way down to the registers.” He nodded to Stanley. “One moment.”
Dan pointed to the bag in Stanley’s hand. “When are you going to ask him about the cat?”
“We can’t spring it on him here in the middle of the store.”
“Sure, we can. That’s exactly what we came here to do.”
“No, we can’t. We need to exercise discretion.”
Dan shrugged. “Why?”
“Who knows how he might react? Imagine if he meant for it to go berserk.”
“No way — he’s harmless.”
Stanley looked at his innocent cyborg. “You’ve got a lot to learn about people, my dear friend. Sometimes it’s the person you least suspect who can hurt you the most.”
Frank hustled back. “Another person who couldn’t be bothered to deal with the androids,” he whispered. “I get these kind of people every day. But, of course, I have to put on my happy face.”
Stanley understood. Not everyone embraced change. A good store manager knew how to do the dance of compassion.
Dan snatched the bag out of Stanley’s hands. “We’ve got something to talk to you about, Frank.”
“Jesus! What the hell is that?”
Stanley didn’t buy the act. “How could you not recognize it? This cat was registered to you.”
Frank picked up the bag as if it were a bomb. His fat, tough-looking face melted as he squeamishly stuck his hand into the bag and then yanked it out sharply, squirming like a worm. “Let’s take this to my office.”
Along the way, Stanley whispered to Dan, “That was very rude. You can’t snatch things from me — from anyone.”
“I’m sorry, Stanley. I sensed you were uncomfortable with the task, and so I did it for you.”
“That’s not how things work with people. You need to follow social protocol.”
“Sorry.” The words sounded sincere, but the grin on his face made his apology questionable.
“Just don’t do it again.” Stanley’s annoyance lessened. It was never personal with Dan. Never his choice. Always a calculation, striving for optimal outcomes. This experience was one more set of data points to serve all future calculations.
The door clicked open after scanning Frank’s face. “Here we are.”
A soft buzz vibrated through Stanley’s body as he walked into the office at the back of the store. It was more like a workshop or a makerspace. Sundry mechanical devices lined the shelves, and a litany of electronic chaos filled a table at the center of the room.
“As you can see, I’m a tech enthusiast.” Frank motioned to the cat head. “This was one of my toys until it went missing one day. Where did you find it?”
Stanley sighed. “At my condo. It went haywire and attacked my neighbor.”
“Goodness. Was anyone hurt?”
“Yes,” said Dan. “Our neighbor was sent to the hospital, and her cat was killed.”
Frank’s eyes lit up. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” said Dan.
“How could you use a recalled machine like this, knowing that it was dangerous?” Stanley looked down at his balled fist and relaxed it. He didn’t come here to start a fight.
“I knew it was risky, but I thought there wasn’t much harm in having it run patrols around the store.”
Dan sifted through the heap on the table. “Were you having security issues?”
“Not really. Life here isn’t exactly eventful. You saw the biggest security risk we face: a few kids goofing off.”
“Then why run patrols?”
Frank shrugged. “For fun.”
“You could have taken better precautions,” said Stanley. There was anger in his voice.
Dan’s eyes widened. “Social protocol,” he whispered.
Stanley waved him off.
“I did all I could,” said Frank.
Stanley hated excuses, especially when it came to someone else’s safety. “This model was decommissioned because it was unsafe. ‘Doing all you could’ would have been not deploying it at all.”
“So, then. what should he have done? Destroy it?”
“Don’t start, Dan.” There was fire in Stanley’s voice.
“I’m sorry,” said Frank. “I didn’t think.”
“No, you didn’t,” said Stanley.
Frank pressed his finger against the back of the cat’s severed head. “I wanted to see this incredible piece of technology — it’s not like I have the budget to purchase the latest and greatest cyborg.” He glared at Stanley, whose face was red with fury.
Stanley decided it was a good time to stop criticizing the big man.
Frank took the chip out. “So, are you going to try to use this footage to sue me? Is that what this is about?”
“Not at all,” said Stanley. “I have enough money to take care of me and Dan for the rest of our lives. Plus, all our injuries have been healed.”
“Well,” said Dan, stretching out the word as if it were a horn signaling a penalty, “except Boots. You can’t bring back the dead.”
Frank looked at them warily. “So, what is this about?”
“We want to know what caused your cat to attack us,” said Stanley. “If there is someone out there putting dangerous malware into artificial intelligence, it’s our duty to stop it.”
“Have you been living under a rock?”
“What do you mean?”
“Wait a minute. You did get authorization to have Dan, right? He’s not out here walking around unregistered, is he?”
“It’s a free country,” said Stanley. “Anyone can purchase an android or cyborg and do as they please.”
Dan gave him a look.
“Within reason, of course.”
“Um, yeah,” said Frank. “I’m beginning to think that broadcast with those boys wasn’t the best of ideas.”
“If we want to change the world,” said Dan, “people have to know who we are.”
“But that’s …”
“What?” asked Stanley. He was beginning to think Frank was hiding something.
“It’s nothing,” said Frank, a little too quickly.
“Get it off your chest, already,” said Stanley.
Frank frowned. “I get that you two are here to make a difference in the world, and I’m not trying to judge. But, I’m sorry. I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t comply with the law — the unofficial regulations — and get Dan registered. But, whatever. It’s up to you.” He let out a sigh. “Now, I can access the data. Is that what you want?”
“Please
.”
“All right.” Frank inserted the chip into his tablet; then he placed it on the table. “Let’s see what sort of mess this little kitty got himself into — unless you have any advice for being more cautious.”
Stanley resisted frowning. “Go ahead.”
Shannon sighed when she saw Evan approach, with that confrontational look in his face. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his nose flared. He pulled up a picture of Dan on his phone and showed it to her. “What do you see?”
She saw a young, handsome Asian man but didn’t know how to respond. Evan had been extra violent lately, and she didn’t want to fail any of his tests. “A happy man buying some groceries.”
Evan repeated her answer and then asked, “Good looking?”
“Um, well, you know.” He was definitely a lot more attractive than she dared to admit.
“No, Shannon. I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”
Her toes curled from the tone he was using with her. It was definitely smart not to screw with him right now. But she couldn’t figure out if that meant telling the truth or pretending like he wasn’t so damn handsome.
“Spit it out.”
“He’s good looking, alright? He’s. Good. Looking.”
Evan glared at her. “I see.”
Shannon felt like she’d answered incorrectly. Her relationship with him had grown too toxic, and she needed to find a way out. Fast. Handing the phone back, her finger slid across the screen. A horrendous image of a bloodied woman bound to a street sign appeared on the screen. Was it the same woman she had clothed and checked into the fuse-farm — who had been a cyborg?
Evan turned to the other police officers at the table. “The abominations are attempting to infiltrate us, taking forms more human than ever. Stanley Duncan, Marshfield’s freak show, has taken it upon himself to purchase some top-of-the-line devilry, no doubt to do disgusting things to it. He’s been parading it around town in open defiance of our wishes.
“I want this abomination captured. We need to send a message to unite all Americans, but under no circumstances can it be traced back to us. We are going to corrupt his system and send him on a murder rampage. It’ll look like Duncan is a domestic terrorist who had programmed two abominations to destroy Americans: Dan and Brutus. This will get the attention of the top brass, and they’ll need to outlaw the tin cans immediately.”
Stanley Duncan's Robot: Genesis Page 11