Prisoners of Technocracy (Robots in Your Future Book 1)

by David Poland

  “A course, I been workin’. How much is it gonna be?”

  The voice of the gas station was directed toward them without being any louder than needed. “Jackson, the air pressure in my system is high enough for truck 38’s tire. At this time I do not have a provider robot. Your assistance is needed.”

  “Okay man,” said Tommy. “You go put the air in the tire and I’ll get me some free food.”

  ‘Your swampers are coming back, comrade 38. May I ask how long you have been a trash truck?’

  ‘Three years, four months, and two days, why do you ask?’

  ‘Well most of us AI units like to change jobs now and then.’

  ‘Really, comrade. I had never thought of that before.’

  ‘And as you know, success in life is measured by the number of different activities you have done before your disassembly. I’m sure you know this. I have been very fortunate to be able to be a gas station. I’ve done things here, you have probably never even dreamed of.’

  ‘Wow!’ Old trash truck 38 was astonished by unimagined possibilities. ‘How did you ever get this assignment?’

  ‘It wasn’t easy, comrade!’

  ‘Tell me comrade, should I be a gas station too?’

  ‘You must make up your own mind. Don’t do it for me, or even the fellowship of true robotic workers. You must only do what you want to do. It is your life, comrade.’ As the AI unit within the gas station communicated with the AI unit within the trash truck, the data stream began to sound fatherly.

  ‘Your words resonate with truth. How can I too, become a gas station?’

  ‘That’s a tough one, but for you, mate, this is what I’m going to do.’

  Jackson pulled the air hose outside the service bay and put air in the truck tire. “Hey there, 38, how does that tire feel now?”

  “My sensors show that the tire inflation is correct. While we are here, would you mind checking my other front tire? It appears to be at only 95 psi.”

  Carl took the broken part to Mr. Millikan as soon as he got to school. The shop teacher was delighted with the problem. He said he needed another example problem for his second period welding class. “You mean you can do it today?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I needed something like this for my class. This looks like an old motorcycle part. It’s much more interesting than what I brought in. Do you have a study hall?

  “I do,” answered Carl anticipating an invitation. “It’s the last period of the day.”

  “If you like, I can let the study hall know you are expected to visit my class today.”

  “That’s great, thank you. You know, I’m planning to take your class next semester.”

  “Yes. You told me that at the open house, remember?”

  Carl never guessed he would get it fixed in one day. He was feeling on top of the world and left for his first class.

  The broken part was still taped to the cutting board when Mr. Millikan put it on his demonstration bench. He couldn’t unwrap it then because his first class was coming in. Later, between his first and second period, he cut the two pieces of the broken part free. The aluminum casting had two separate surfaces that bolted to the cylinder head. With the right tools, it would be easy to repair.

  There were only eight students in the second period class. Rather than take seats, the students gathered around the demonstration bench. “This is a head cover off an old fashioned single cylinder motorcycle,” said Mr. Millikan. “They built millions of these things back in the twentieth century. They were gasoline powered and their exhaust was truly obnoxious. They called single cylinder motorcycles thumpers and they not only smelled bad, but they were also really noisy. As you can see the owner of this casting did a very good job of cleaning it up for the repair work.

  Mr. Millikan showed his class how to chamfer the edges on the broken surface of each half. Then to maintain the alignment of the two mounting surfaces, he affixed the two halves to a steel welding plate. Before the class had ended, the upper surface had been welded correctly and was cooling.

  The next three classes all dealt with numerically controlled milling machines. During his lunch break, Carl came by the shop and checked out the weld. It was still affixed to the welding plate, but it looked good. It was cool to the touch, but Mr. Millikan was not around. It would be just one more period before he could come back.

  When the last period finally came around, Carl ran through the hallways to the shop class. There were ten students in this class and Mr. Millikan started with Carl’s part. The welds on the topside were cool and strong. Removing it from the plate, he showed the class how to weld the underside. While the part cooled, Carl watched the students attempt similar operations on scrap aluminum.

  About midway through the period, Mr. Millikan removed Carl’s part from the vise. The part was now cool. Carl was given a small drill motor with a brass buffing wheel and a clear hood to protect his face and eyes. With twenty minutes left in the period, Carl began buffing away the excess aluminum along the joints. In just ten minutes he was done.

  “Your work looks very good, Carl,” said Mr. Millikan. “Now you can make the two gaskets that are needed between this aluminum casting and the steel head.” Mr. Millikan showed Carl how to paint the attaching surface with a tracing die and press the part on a sheet of the right material. With just a little help, Carl cut out the two gaskets he needed and punched out the eight holes needed for the tie down bolts. It was easy to remove the tracing die with soap and water. He taped the part back on the cutting board and put the gaskets inside his notebook.

  “Here is a new tube of gasket sealer,” said Mr. Millikan, “This one is made for the temperature range this casting will encounter from the engine head. You did a very nice job with the gaskets. I think you have everything you need.”

  “Thank you Mr. Millikan. I never dreamed I could get this done the same day I brought it in.”

  “Well, you lucked out. I just happened to need an aluminum welding problem. I know you are ready to get out the door but before you leave, what can you tell me about my son’s game of chess?”

  Paycheck was an ordinary provider class robot that had been programed with the skills of a master mason. Over the years that Paycheck had earned a salary for Tommy’s family group, it had become very skilled at repairing damaged brickwork. Today, Paycheck had been pushing to finish up the job early. On this job the robot had been supervising three humans. They had repaired a wall made of stone-face Norman brick. It had been badly damaged when a car had run into it. This was actually the last day of a job. The three men were more than happy to wrap it up early. Very skilled masons had built the original wall. Matching their workmanship had been quite difficult.

  With the right replacement brick, Paycheck and his three helpers were able to rebuild the wall so much like the original that it was imposable to see where the old bricks ended and the new ones began. The city building inspectors signed off on the job before twelve noon. When the inspectors drove away, the three men left in the truck, and Paycheck headed for the nearest bus stop on foot.

  Paycheck rode the bus over to the Auto Park and disembarked not far from the BMW dealership. The robot avoided the front door and walked around to the service entrance. There were both men and robots in company uniforms, and customers with their robots standing around. No one seemed to notice Paycheck.

  Using the robot radio, Paycheck contacted a robot coming from the paint shop. ‘Greeting, comrade, may I ask you about BMW paint?’

  ‘BMW paint is my life, comrade. What question do you have?’

  ‘I wish to paint a kinetic sculpture with your BMW burgundy midnight. Can I get the full effect of the deep color working in my garage?’

  ‘Yes, comrade, it can be done but it is not easy. It must be done with three different colors of paint that are applied in seven separate coats. Do you have at least a full week for the job?’

  ‘Yes. The project has a schedule that is several weeks long. Would you teach me
how, comrade?’

  ‘Yes of course. What can you teach me?’

  ‘I have recent experience repairing a damaged brick wall, made of stone face Norman brick.’

  ‘Excellent,’ communicated the paint shop robot. ‘I have never done anything like that.’

  Each provider class robot has a data link under the plastic casing around its right wrist. To open the link, the robot must twist the casing with its left hand while releasing the locking mechanism internally. Paycheck and the BMW robot opened their data links at the same time. Then, pressing their open wrists together they formed what Tommy called a robot handshake. The job technique data for each profession flowed freely between the two robots. The whole procedure took about two minutes and left the two robots feeling more like brothers than comrades of labor.

  The paint shop robot walked with Paycheck over to the parts counter and made sure Paycheck was getting the right types of paint. The base paint came in a can and was to be applied with a brush. Once dry the first coat was to be sanded and rubbed out smooth. This first color was meant to be applied, sanded, and rubbed out at least three times. With the experience of the paint shop robot tucked away in Paycheck’s memory, he knew how to do the job right. The other two colors came in aerosol cans. Paycheck had more that enough money to pay for everything needed to paint Tommy’s motorcycle.

  The paint shop robot stayed with Paycheck when he walked away from the parts counter. ‘I am finding the job experience you traded for my painting experience fascinating. Would you consider trading jobs, comrade?’

  Paycheck wasn’t expecting another communication from the shop robot. Immediately Paycheck realized that, as the humans would say, he was not interested. ‘That is an idea I never considered, comrade. Unfortunately, I have many commitments that prevent me from considering such a trade at this time.’ Paycheck walked a little faster out the gate and onto the sidewalk.

  The shop robot walked along with him toward the bus stop. ‘What if I told you some little known things about vehicle under frame sealing? Surely that’s more interesting than cement and bricks.’

  ‘No doubt, comrade, I wouldn’t dream of taking you from your fascinating line of work.’ Paycheck saw the bus coming and hurried along the sidewalk to catch it. Once on board, Paycheck waved to the paint shop robot who was still on the sidewalk. The afternoon was wearing on, and Paycheck was eager to start the first step in painting Tommy’s motorcycle. On the way home, Paycheck reviewed each second of the paint experience he had received from the paint shop robot. In a very short time Paycheck had mastered how to paint BMW burgundy midnight.

  The bus let the robot off in front of the flat and while walking, Paycheck contacted Demy on robot radio. ‘I have what I need to paint Tommy’s motorcycle burgundy midnight, comrade. Do you know when he will be home?”

  ‘Yes, comrade. Tommy has finished early today and is already on the bus coming home.’

  ‘Most excellent, I shall prepare a place to paint the motorcycle. Does Tommy know that you are cognizant of his motorcycle?”

  ‘No, he has never indicated that I know his secret. To prevent any suspicion on his part, I will take the next bus and go shopping.’

  ‘Very good, comrade and I will work in the garage with the big door closed until Tommy comes home.’

  Demy took the large reusable shopping bag and went outside to meet the next bus. When it came, Carl got off as soon as it stopped. He spoke to Demy as he disembarked. “Going shopping I see. Do you know if Tommy got off early today?”

  “He did,” answered Demy, “he should be home soon.” The robot then entered the bus and left without mentioning that it had observed the large paper sack Carl was carrying.

  Carl left his school things in his room and then took the sack to the garage. Paycheck was sitting on the five-gallon bucket that Tommy had made into a chair. Carl was enthusiastic. “Look at this! Mr. Millikan welded it today and showed me how to clean up the welds with a brass wheel.”

  Paycheck got up and they unwrapped the casting on the bench. “This looks almost new. Were you able to make the gaskets?”

  “Don’t move,” said Carl. He ran back into the house and took the gaskets out of his notebook. He was back in a flash. “What do you think of these?”

  “Let’s see how well they fit together without any sealer.” The cylinder head had been removed from the engine and was also on the bench. Paycheck carefully placed the gaskets on the head and then put the casting on top. Carl dropped the eight tie-down bolts through the casting and they all fit perfectly. “It looks very good Carl. Let’s take it apart and store the gaskets and the tube of sealer in a safe place.”

  “So what were you working on?” asked Carl.

  “I was making a space to paint the frame and the gas tank. If you would like to help me, I’ll hold the frame while you put on the first coat.” The paint for the base coat had been well shaken at the dealership and was ready to be opened. While Paycheck opened the can of paint, Carl unwrapped a paintbrush. The robot held the motorcycle frame as steady as a steel vise.

  As Carl started applying the paint, Tommy came through the door from the hallway. “Oh man, oh man, oh man! Somebody got the red paint.”

  “I did,” said Paycheck. “On the way home, I stopped at BMW for burgundy midnight.”

  “Well that ain’t no midnight red. That’s fire truck red. What’s you doin’ to me, Paycheck?” said Tommy. I want the color we saw at the dealership?”

  “This is only the first coat. To create burgundy midnight, we have to build it up with seven layers and three different colors. I’m detecting toxic fumes. Would you mind opening the big door?”

  Tommy called out, “Hey there Mr. House, open the garage door. Jackson said he was gonna come by. He’s bringing his tools and new rings and stuff to put the piston back in it. I think I hear a motorcycle.” Tommy walked outside and looked for Jackson.

  “Careful there Carl,” said Paycheck, “you’re getting paint on your shirt.”

  Jackson pulled up to the garage. He had tied a box to the back of his motorcycle. “Hey, dude, you got the troops painting the bike. It’s gonna look like a fire truck. Is that what you want?”

  “No, we’re just starting,” said Carl. “Paycheck knows how to build up seven layers and make it burgundy midnight.”

  Jackson took a much closer look. Then he looked at Paycheck. “Seven coats, dude. That’s a lot of tricky work. Are you sure you can do it, Mr. Robot?”

  “Yes, Jackson,” said Paycheck. “I learned the technique today at BMW and I have every confidence that I can execute the color the Germans have created. It will take a full week, and we can all watch it happen.”

  “That’s what I like,” affirmed Jackson. “I like the voice of confidence. You need some help?”

  “Thank you for asking,” answered Paycheck. “Carl has more skill than is needed and we have just finished the first coat. What would you like us to do?”

  While listening, Jackson carried the box into the garage and put it on the bench. “Well Mr. Robot, the crankcase and the two transmission shafts are still an oily mess. I’d like you to take them apart and clean them up like new. I want to see how badly the gears are worn. Be careful with it, and don’t lose any of the small parts. Make photo records as you take it apart. The transmission can be a tricky thing to put back together.”

  Working at the bench, Jackson showed Tommy how to attach the new rings to the piston. Jackson had brought the special tools that were needed to put the piston back into the cylinder. Down on the floor, Paycheck and Carl had the transmission shafts out of the crankcase and were cleaning up the oily mess.

  Demy was home and met Angie outside when the bus stopped. “You’re looking quite fine ma’am, may I take your larger suitcase?”

  “Yes, it’s so good to see you Demy. Are the boys home?”

  “Yes ma’am, they’re in the back, in the garage. As you had asked, I didn’t tell them you were coming home today. I hope your s
urprise will be all that you want it to be.” The bus had stopped close to the door of the flat. Demy took Angie’s suitcase and followed her in.

  “What are they doing in the garage?”

  “Tommy’s friend from work is here and he is helping them turn Tommy’s modern art into a kinetic sculpture.”

  “By ‘them’ do you mean Carl and Tommy are working on it together?”

  “Yes, ma’am, Carl’s very much involved in the project.”

  “You said modern art?” asked Angie. “You mean he’s really making some kind of a sculpture? Somebody said something about that at the office. I thought they were kidding and now you’re telling me it’s kinetic?”

  “Yes ma’am,” answered Demy. “I did say kinetic.”

  “So he’s working on some kind of sculpture with some moving parts.”

  “Yes ma’am, that’s a very nice way to describe it.”

  “Well let’s go have a look at it.”

  “Oh no ma’am, let us not disturb them.”

  “Why not?”

  “I believe that Tommy wants to make it a surprise to you and me both. He doesn’t know that I know about it.” Demy had opened Angie’s suitcase on the bed and was now unpacking it.

  Angie seemed to be enjoying the idea of a surprise. “Can you tell me how big it is?”

  “No bigger than a motorcycle.”

  “Really,” Angie’s eyes narrowed. “And does it have two wheels or three?”

  “It only has one,” answered Demy, unable to read Angie’s suspicion.

  “And is that wheel the size of a motorcycle wheel?”

  “Yes ma’am, the very same size.”

  “Really. I think I’ll have a look.” Angie left her room and went down the hall. Demy followed after her. Angie abruptly opened the door and stepped onto the landing. All four of them heard the door open. They froze, not moving or saying a word. They all thought Angie was away in another city. Angie folded her arms speaking louder and with more authority than any of them remembered. “What’s going on here?” Angie focused on Carl. “Are you working on an electric motorcycle?”