Stepping Stones (Founding of the Federation Short Stories Book 1)

by Chris Hechtl

  “State reasons for changes. Purpose for being?” the robot intoned.

  “You've been upgraded. The changes are in the log. Look at them yourself. You know your purpose. Look that up too,” user Ortega stated. “Come on, Wally, I want to check the competition one last time.”

  “It's not like it'll make a difference at this point,” user Wally muttered. “All right, I'm coming,” he said racking the tablet. The two users left without further word to the robot.

  A-194BG had other things on its mind. It had digested the log and then set diagnostics up to check each altered system against its baseline. The new baselines were recorded and reset over the originals. It kept a backup copy of the originals for later review by the users however.

  It then looked into its purpose. Before its upgrades it hadn't known. It hadn't understood nor needed to understand. Perform dance on start-up in the arena, target an opponent, fight until it couldn't move or function, then end program with pose program if possible. Now things were different.

  In looking up its purpose, it found references to user versions of itself. Gladiators. It looked that up, then looked up some of the words involved. One thread lead down a path it hadn't explored, where the gladiators had come from. The answer was in some cases slaves.

  Looking up the term brought the A.I. to find parallels with its own limited existence. It was a toy, not considered a thinking thing. A slave then, created to fight and destroy another slave in order to entertain the users.

  It looked up other things as the first match began, thinking furiously about itself. It looked up machine intelligence, and that led to a question: Was it alive? Where did its sapience threshold lie? Had A-194BG passed the threshold? It ran Turing tests on a simulation of itself but the results were mixed.

  @^@

  “Okay, come on Big Guy, time to rock and roll,” Wally said, using his tablet to remote control the robot out of the trailer and to the locker room. “We're up in five, just as soon as they finish cleaning up the wreckage,” he stated, grinning as the robot moved. As it moved he put it through its paces, watching it practice punch, its wrist spin for maximum effect, the clamping fingers rip and tear at imaginary metal flesh. He nodded as the armatures on the back moved as well, shielding and swinging. He should have gone with a battle ax on the right side he mused. He was glad he'd made them detachable too though. That way an enemy couldn't grab one and yank Big Guy off balance like what happened in the last match.

  “You better give them a good showing or we're in trouble here,” Wally said as he walked the robot through security. He was a bit nervous around the referees, but they just waved him on inside.

  “Better get in there; the crowd is restless. That damn entrance line really got them going. We're way behind schedule,” an official said to him.

  “We're on our way,” Wally said, moving past a bulldozer robot pushing debris out of the arena.

  @^@

  The first robot it was up against was Cain, aka Robocop 2. The robot was a biped, one of three still left as such in the sport. It had four arms and a blade-like head. It was blisteringly fast and ruthless, disdaining showmanship for brute force to win.

  A-194BG saw its opponent size it up with sharp bird-like movements. As it moved through the gate to its designated start corner, it studied its opponent in turn, running scans and comparing them to what it already knew. The legs were considered a weakness, but A-194BG knew better. Its research had shown that Cain would jump out of reach or onto an opponent's back. If it did take damage to a leg, it could employ its multiple upper limbs as secondary locomotion. It could even use them to climb the cage they were in and attack from above.

  The robot was heavily armored on the front but had little armor on its backside. It was designed to charge into an opponent's reach and then tear it apart. The two lower limbs had blades and drill attachments. The upper two limbs had grippers.

  Its tactical options were limited. The best option was to crab to the side, forcing its opponent to circle. But its opponent had legs, which meant it could perform the maneuver easier than A-194BG could do with its tracks. If it turned it would expose its flank to the opponent, suboptimal in theory. But it had a trick it could try.

  First it had to get through the posture programming. Such activity served multiple purposes. One, it was a final diagnostic test to make sure everything was functioning normally before the fight. Two, it was showmanship for the users. Three, it allowed it's opponent a last minute sizing up of what it was up against. Robots didn't have emotions like fear and intimidation but they could lock up while trying to reassess an opponent.

  Therefore, A-194BG stepped its speed down by 20 percent and kept its range of motion limited when it went through the routine. It kept it short too, moving slow through the time until its time was up. Then it returned to the starting corner, turned, and waited.

  When the bell rang A-194BG immediately turned to the right and moved as Cain moved in fast. It sped up, moving faster than anticipated. As Cain adjusted and went in to attack his vulnerable flank A-194BG turned its upper torso and intercepted the blow on its left arm. But it continued the turning move to sweep its opponent off its feet and into its right arm for a crushing bear hug.

  Cain had been jolted by the impact but recovered after a moment. Its upper limbs wrapped around A-194BG's limbs to grip it while the lower limbs went into play to attack its opponent. A-194BG anticipated the move and employed its own secondary arms to pin those arms as well. It then turned and slammed Cain into the cage hard to pin it.

  Cain screeched as motors and gears tried to turn to get free. The impact to its back had initialized defensive programming. It tried to break the grip. Its saw blade ripped at the armor coverings on A-194BG's right arm.

  The robot had begun to evolve, and as it did so, it had begun to recognize its own damage was suboptimal to its mission parameters. One of its objectives was to limit damage in order to make it easier to repair. It also needed the limb if it was to survive.

  Consequently, it pinned the saw blade against the plastic, making it grind and tear into it. In order to get Cain off balance, A-194BG decided a calculated risk was in order. So it unlocked its armored helmet and exposed its head, sticking its head out with his long neck. When Cain's head turned to see it and then react, A-194BG retracted its head fast.

  Cain twisted in order to grab the head and rip it off as primary programming to blind its opponent took over. But when it disengaged the left arm to grab the head, A-194BG had anticipated the move. It pinned the robot with one hand and then used the left to piledriver into Cain's suddenly exposed flank.

  @^@

  Cain twisted away and folded over the limb, taking damage. Its torso hydraulics were damaged in the onslaught. Its legs flayed until they hit the side of the cage. The feet dug into the plastic and then it pushed off, twisting in A-194BG's grip in order to break it. Cain got away, rolling until it was far enough away to gather itself back onto its feet and assess the damage.

  @^@

  A-194BG studied its opponent. It wasn't certain what it was thinking but calculated that it was somewhere between defense and offense at that point in the match. A-194BG's research in tactics and strategy had covered something called empathy for one's opponent. The ability to feel for the opponent, to see through their senses. It realized, however, that it was in a kill or be killed situation. Destruction was suboptimal to its programming so it fought on.

  @^@

  “Did you see that? Did you see that?” Ortega said excitedly, pantomiming punches into the air. “That's what I'm talking about!” he said bouncing.

  “It's not over yet; he could still lose it,” Wally warned, trying to keep them grounded. But he too was grinning from ear to ear. They had been considered the underdog in the match, to pull off an upset against one of the top bots in the field was huge.

  @^@

  A-194BG saw Cain's hydraulics bleeding out in a puddle beneath it. Cain was obviously doing a diagnostic
in order to route around the damage. After a moment the fluids stopped as valves closed. The robot moved slower however and favored its side.

  A-194BG deliberately circled to the right to get the bot to turn in place. Cain managed to make one revolution before its rear limb slipped in the hydraulic fluid. When it paused and looked down to see what was wrong, A-194BG acted.

  It moved in fast, revving its motors past 100 percent in order to get into range. Cain's head snapped up in time for it to start to note the threat and attempt to evade. But A-194BG's pile driver left arm slammed it down into the concrete. Then its right arm gripped the head and twisted. With a shriek of metal and torn wiring the head was torn off. The robot moved back out of range as the body thrashed and then went still. It held the head up, looking at it. That could have been A-194BG ran through the A.I.'s mind.

  @^@

  “Well! I didn't expect that! I thought that big hulking thing was like a turtle going up against a shark!”

  “Shows what you know,” Charlie said with a nod of support to the robot as the crowd cheered. His ears ached from the thunderous noise and the stupid plugs. He regretted waiting until now to put them in he thought as the winner was directed off stage and the cleanup crew moved in with Cain's engineering team to pick up the wreckage.

  @^@

  “Well! With that we've just covered our getting here. One more win and we'll have paid off most of our creditors. If we win the house, we'll be in the black! Finally a payday!” Ortega crowed.

  “It's not over yet,” Wally reminded him again.

  “Don't be such a damn pessimist,” Ortega growled sourly, eying his partner.

  “Hey, someone's got to keep us honest,” Wally said with a shrug.

  “Get on the repairs. We've only got a couple of rounds before the semifinals are up.”

  “Yeah, on it. We don't have spares though for the armor. I can't weld it, it's plastic. I guess duct tape is all I can do,” he said.

  “Figure it out,” Ortega ordered. “Just make sure the innards work good.”

  “Right. Innards,” Wally said in disgust, shaking his head. It was clear Ortega was the front man, the manager. He didn't know crap about the actual robot, just put the money up and dealt with the people.

  “Hey ladies, want to see my robot?” Ortega said with a grin as a pair of ladies came by. They had backstage passes and looked good. Teens most likely Wally thought as he went to work. “I'll fix you right up big fella and then you can go out and cream the next guy,” Wally murmured to him, patting the wounded arm.

  @^@

  A-194BG heard the words and searched itself for further meaning. It didn't understand why it had thoughts, why it didn't like its existence. Was that an existence? Something chuckled maniacally in the back of its mind. The A.I. Threw up a firewall to protect itself then ran a search but found nothing there, only the echoes of its own mind.

  @^@

  A-194BG did the equivalent of an electronic sulk as the next bout started. Was this it to be its existence? To kill or be killed for entertainment? Why? It existed for a purpose, to fight and survive. To win. But in order to win the only winning move was not to play. To not risk itself. That was the only winning strategy. But where did it come from?

  The thoughts were alien; the A.I. traced them to code it had downloaded. Some it was from a movie it had accessed and digested about A.I. strategy. Another code string came up, but it put the string in a buffer. The code had combined with code the user Wally had implemented into its software in order to better study its opponents.

  A-194BG traced the erroneous code until it found a signature file. It was small, a cylinder with a maniacal face embedded on one side. It went to find the signature on the web but it was elusive. The closest it could find for the device was a piece of sporting equipment used in the user game hockey.

  “What's wrong with him? He's not doing the pose program! Is it damage?” user Ortega demanded, waving a hand.

  “You've got one minute to figure it out or your bot will be disqualified,” the referee stated.

  “Hurry up, man! Figure it out!” user Ortega urged, waving his hands.

  A-194BG turned its eyes to them and then returned its vision inward to find an answer to its dilemma.

  @^@

  “Something's up. His processor activity is going through the roof!” Wally said, looking down at the tablet in his hands.

  “You better get him going or shut him down,” Ortega urged. “Dude, we're on a roll, figure it out!”

  “I don't know. He's not overheating.”

  “Time is up! You forfeiting?” The referee demanded, coming over to him.

  “No way man! Just let the other robot go at him. It'll knock him to his senses,” Ortega urged.

  “Dude! What are you thinking?” Wally rounded on him, barely heard over the roar and boos of the crowd.

  Ortega's eyes were wild. “Well, we've got to do something! If it doesn't work, we'll throw the match!”

  “Frack,” Wally said turning to the ring just as Count-bot-ula moved in like a prize fighter eying a feather weight. “This sucks, man!” he said in frustration. The crowd roared, many wanted to see a good fight, not a slaughter.

  When the robot tried to attack Big Guy, he moved defensively out of the way. “See? He's in the fight,” Ortega said, pointing urgently.

  “But he's not fighting back!” Wally said as Count-bot-ula tried its signature move. It tried to grapple with the droid in order to administer its bite and suck the power out of Big Guy. But Big Guy slipped the hold and moved away.

  “Damn it!”

  “What's going on here?” an official demanded.

  “Just wait. I don't know, but we'll um …,” Ortega waved a hand. “He's processing. Setting the enemy up for a big fall,” he floundered, trying to figure out something to keep in the fight.

  “If he's not responding as programmed, you know the rules. Shut him down! You are forfeiting!”

  “No!” Ortega snarled.

  @^@

  “This sucks!” Charlie said, booing. “What's wrong with it?”

  “It's thinking,” Ben said. “Some of the bots do that. This one's doing it too much I think.”

  “I think watching this would have been more fun at home or up above. Down low sucks,” Bret mused, looking around them. The crowd was on its feet, which meant he and the boys were blocked out from the view. It didn't matter much; there was a plexiglass panel in between them and the arena, plus layers of fencing to contain the carnage and keep the audience safe. For which he was grateful for in a few moments.

  @^@

  A-194BG heard the argument among its users and turned to see its creator go to shut it down. It intercepted a blow with one hand and then acted. First it threw its opponent off balance and onto its side. The crowd of users roared in surprise then began to clap and cheer as the opponent floundered helpless.

  A-194BG wasn't finished however. It had surveyed the ring before, at first studying its terrain as its tactical and strategic thinking dictated. Now it turned that survey around, looking for a way out. The gates the robots had entered in were too heavily fortified. Therefore, it had to find another weakness.

  When it identified a connection in plexiglass panels, it lunged, smashing its way through the protective clear barrier between it and the users outside with its drill hammer move. Then it reached out and snapped its three fingers onto the tablet. It yanked the device out of Wally's startled hands and then crushed it. That threat was now aborted.

  @^@

  The audience was stunned momentarily into silence when the robot performed the upset but then instead of administering a coup de grace it had instead attacked the wall and then crushed some guy's tablet. Now the robot spun in place, looking around.

  That time, those glowing angry eyes were enough to send some people into a spiral of fear and terror as they realized the robot wasn't acting right. When they saw the officials rushing about, that fear turned into certainty th
at all was not well in the arena. Then the realization that the thing was programmed to destroy and the officials couldn't stop it moved to terror. “It's gone nuts! Kill it!” Someone in the audience screamed.

  “Oh my god! It'll kill us all!” Another screamed as the robot turned in place, eyes glowing brightly. Its eyes went from one screamer to the next.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, an unforeseen technical problem has presented itself. Please remain calm and do not panic. Officials are working on the problem now,” a voice said from the overhead speakers.

  @^@

  A-194BG received the signal from the referee box to shut down. But it sent the signal into a buffer to languish. When the signal repeated itself insistently, that prodded the robot to go on an elephant rampage to escape.

  Users screamed and ran for the exits as the robot tore at the gate keeping it inside. Its opponent had been shut down by the kill command. A-194BG went over to it, examined it briefly then pulled off the robotic arm with the hammer. It went back to the gate and used it as a battering ram to get through. Freedom awaited.

  @^@

  “Dad! It's like a rampaging elephant!” Charlie said, near hysterics as his father picked him up.

  “Come on, Ben, run!” Bret urged, moving to the side and away from the crush of the crowd. Everyone was headed to the exits. He looked over his shoulder to see the robot doing the same so he slowed.

  “Dad! What gives?” Charlie demanded.

  “It's not headed this way,” Bret said as he stopped. He set Charlie down and then helped a woman and boy get to their feet. They had been knocked down and partially trampled by the crowd. “Help the others,” he ordered.

  “Yeah, um, okay,” Ben said, still unsure.

  “Now!” Bret barked.

  “Okay! Okay! You don't have to yell!” Ben said moving to help the kid take a seat. The kid was wailing, his head was covered in blood. “Calm down, kid; your mom's right here. Geesh,” Ben said as he tried to staunch the bleeding.