Robot Awareness: The Inner Circle

by B. C. Kowalski

  "Same thing we've always done," Porter said, wheeling his chair toward the door. "We pick up the pieces, put them back together as best we can, and keep flying."

  "Initiating repair protocol," they heard a metallic voice say in the background.

  ***

  The sheriff checked his flight controls. It had been a long journey, and his fuel ran low. Almost without thinking, the sheriff flicked a switch on top of the console, switching to the secondary fuel tank.

  He rubbed his mustache, checking his flight coordinates. He'd made it deep into the Inner Circle. Not where he would have preferred to set his trap, but a man of the law can't always pick his place.

  The sheriff hadn't bothered to track One-Lung Alice. He knew exactly where she was going. He'd scanned records mid-flight on the Buzz. He scoured sources until he discovered the registration papers. He knew exactly where One-Lung would be: The Xeno 750.

  He lamented that much of a sheriff's duties were performed on computers these days. He felt some small amount of excitement being on the chase, tracking down a law-breaker.

  But this one was personal. He allowed himself a glance at the picture frame next to his console, the digital image it contained occasionally breaking up before recomposing itself: a woman about 10 years younger than him, the sheriff himself 10 years younger in that photo, and a small boy. He was interrupted by the beep indicating the fuel source had switched over. He took his eyes off the picture, but didn't forget his late wife’s smiling face as he resumed his focus on his prey. He never would forget.

  ***

  "Hey, how'd he learn to do that?" Isellia said, watching the robot work. It was in the middle of welding two ripped, metal pieces together, which it had hand-straightened into smooth pieces once again.

  Joey stood beside Isellia watching.

  "I don't really know myself," Joey said, watching the robot with a cocked head. "It hasn't been acting normal for awhile. Not like how you would think a robot would do stuff. I can't figure it out. It's not supposed to be able to do a lot of the stuff it's been doing."

  Isellia looked at the piece in the robot's hands — it was fused back together perfectly, a side-wall for the engine housing. The robot handed the piece to Isellia. "One done. Only 1,329 repair protocols remain."

  "How many? How long is that going to take?"

  "Total repair time estimate, at current rate of progress, is approximately 15 hours, 35 minutes, 10 seconds, depending on variables."

  "That would barely give you time to warm up, right? The race is tomorrow," Joey said.

  "Can you work faster, robot?" Isellia asked.

  "Repair estimate assumes maximum robot efficiency and an averaging of potential variables, which could increase or decrease repair time."

  "What variables?"

  "Isellia's and Joey's rate of participation," the robot deadpanned, its LED flashing.

  "Let's get to work, Joey!" Isellia said, rolling up her sleeves as she headed for the XR.

  ***

  "How's it look, Stephen?" Porter wheeled to a position where he could see into the engine at the same angle as Stephen.

  "Engine's fine, sir. Most of the ship is structurally sound. It's mostly just dirty." Stephen forgot his stutter as he looked up into the drive shaft.

  "So these guys got the ship out before the explosion hit?"

  "That or it held up," Stephen said. Porter almost pointed out that he wasn't stuttering and stammering, but knew it would have the effect of making him self-conscious.

  "So then someone else must have broken up Isellia's ship?"

  "Seems like it, sir."

  "Someone really doesn't want Isellia to race, huh?"

  "Guess not, s-s-sir." It was back.

  "So she'll fly?"

  "S-s-she'll fly," Stephen said, confident despite the return of his stutter.

  ***

  "You found them?" Kenpur asked. Kenpur's crew went to work on cleaning up the ship, pulling sewer weed out of the landing gear, polishing the portholes. He'd pulled Celia and Rex aside.

  "Yep. They were auctioning them off. We got a good portion but not all the data. I can't say for sure what we're missing. It seems to be everything, but the download was only a little more than 80 percent."

  "Thanks Celia. You did well. Both of you"

  "So when you going to tell us what this is all about?" Rex stood with his arms folded in front of him — his favorite posture.

  "In time, Rex. Be patient."

  "Getting a little sick of being patient. I get their robot is special somehow, but talk straight. What's going on with it?"

  Kenpur sighed. "I guess you might as well know. You probably figured out that's no ordinary worker robot. It's a prototype. One of the original 108. What you saw at the auction was the final product."

  "What kinda prototype?"

  "It's AI. It's not just a machine running programs, taking in Sasugan symbols and spitting them back out without truly understanding what's going on. It actually understands things. It thinks."

  "No kidding?" Rex grunted.

  "So we saw an army of these," Celia said. "Why do they keep going after this one?"

  "No controls. They built that into the models you saw. Not this one. This one has the potential to be anything. An evil genius. A Mother Clarissa. Anything in between. Those robots aren't programmed, but the Company found a way to put limits on their AI. Those bots can become whatever they want, until they step out of line — a program steers them back on course.

  "That's not the only prototype. Company C built hundreds of prototypes as they perfected the AI. But they were too autonomous. Some became killers. Others lived simple lives. But Company C sent bounty hunters for all of them. This robot might be one of the last ones left."

  ***

  Porter wheeled into the launch bay, where Isellia, Joey and the robot toiled on Isellia's XR. The whiz and whir of power ratchets and welders echoed throughout the bay.

  "Damn Isellia, you guys really made progress," Porter said, wheeling up to her as she finished screwing a piece into the underside of the ship. "Think you'll be done in time? The race is soon. Frankly we should probably be at the site already."

  "Well, that's your job, right? We’re giving all we can to get this thing repaired in time."

  "Stephen says the ship is pretty much sound, just needs cleaning. The engines are fine, and the earlier repairs are intact. We should be leaving shortly. It's only a few hours jump to the site."

  "OK. We're relying on bolt bucket's algorithms or whatever to figure out exactly what to do. It should be telling us the fastest way to get my bird up and flying again."

  "So you're taking orders from a robot?"

  "No!" Isellia said, hands on hips. Then she thought about it a minute. "Well, kind of. Well ... just nevermind and get the ship flying."

  Porter shook his head. "Yes ma'am," he said with mock seriousness, and wheeled back toward the bay doors.

  ***

  Yardley paced the length of his office nervously. His plan should have worked to perfection. He still wasn't entirely sure how it had all fallen apart.

  Oh, Underow was expected to fail. That was part of the plan. He'd become a liability, and the commanders made it clear he was expendable. A necessary asset allocation and expenditure. It should have been a win-win scenario, with no possibility of loss. Either Underow and the team sent with him succeed, and that's all fine and beneficial; or he fails, and is eliminated. One of two problems would be removed, leaving them only one to clean up.

  Instead, it appeared the robot crew not only prevailed over Underow's forces, but they took him with them. Who knows what Underow might tell them under duress. Instead of solving any of their problems, now it had gotten worse. Much worse. Yardley wasn't sure what he was going to say to the commander.

  "I'm very dissssappointed, Yardley," the man with no face said behind him. Yardley jumped, made a sound much higher-pitched than one would expect for a man of his stature.

&nb
sp; "Sir," he managed, straightening himself up. "My apologies. The course of events took a very disagreeable turn, sir."

  "No matter, Yardley," the man with no face said. He leaned back in a chair at Yardley's desk, hands folded in front of him. He looked relaxed, based on his body posture. He had the ultimate poker face otherwise. "Underow is inconsequential. We have Alice."

  "Yes," Yardely nodded. "A most disagreeable woman — machine — however you might refer to her. But her energies should be directed toward the robot crew, not us."

  "I'd like you to obsssserve the race, Yardley. Make sure things go according to plan."

  "Very good, sir. May I be of assistance in any other way, sir?"

  "Yes, Yardley," the man said, sitting upright in his chair and leaning forward. "Make sure Underow is taken care of sooner, rather than later."

  ***

  Considering the mess the ship had been in when they found it, launching it went relatively smoothly. Underow remained locked in one of the empty crew quarters designed to double as a brig. Joey and Isellia had to stop work on the XR long enough to help prep the main ship for takeoff.

  The robot continued restoring the mangled XR. Stephen toiled away on the engines, polishing them with the care a parent would take with a newborn. The rest of the crew stationed themselves on the bridge.

  All except for Celia. As the ship's engines fired up for launch, Celia could be found walking toward Underow's room.

  Underow had been sitting on the corner of the bed, looking at his hands, when Celia opened the door. He looked up in surprise as she sauntered in, walking toward him with the utmost confidence. He'd never had anywhere near that confidence. His work ethic was all he really had.

  "I trust you find your accommodations acceptable?" Celia said, standing in front of him. He stood up, since she didn't seem about to sit down.

  "I — I prefer to wo—" he began, but she put her finger on his lips, silencing him. She guided him with her finger back down toward his bunk.

  "Ssshhh," she said, her finger under his chin. Her touch was light. His heart began beating heavy, thudding in his chest. He could feel himself sweat, a sensation he didn't delight in. But he was too mesmerized by Celia to pay much attention.

  "There, lie back," she said in a sugary sweet whisper, straddling him as he lay back on the bed. He could feel his heart in his chest as he felt the back of his bunk meet him. She crawled her way further on top of him, easing herself onto his gangly body as she did.

  Celia whipped her long, black shiny hair over her shoulder, before bringing her lips to his ear. "Tell me everything and I'll make it OK." Underow gasped. He hadn't felt the touch of a woman since he was very young, but he was blissfully aware of the sensation now.

  Celia's hand caressed his sunken in cheek, and started working it down his neck, his chest, then his stomach. Her breath was on his cheek as she did, her face inches from his.

  Then she stopped. She looked at him quizzically. "Well, this hasn't happened to me before."

  Underow looked down and gulped. "Um, it— that is, ahem, it's been awhile."

  Celia sighed, sitting upright on Underow. He gasped as her full weight sat on his chest. She patted his chest absentmindedly, as if considering what to do next.

  "Well, I had hoped to do this the... hard way," she said. "Maybe I just need to soften you up instead?"

  Underow gasped.

  ***

  Yardley sighed as he punched in a landing sequence into his mini-cruiser's console. He didn't prefer to leave the Company compound where he served. He couldn't remember the last time he had taken a vacation, and if he did it was likely forced upon him.

  Stockton Yards was coming into view. The planet the XR race site was on wasn't far from the compound — just a short jump into hyper. Just as well, Yardley thought. He managed to figure out the controls but it had been some time since he'd flown a space vessel, and they'd changed much since he last did so regularly. He anticipated in earnest when the thing would be locked down on the launch pad and the whole business would be done with.

  He wasn't quite sure what observing was all going to involve, but it sounded disagreeable to him, nonetheless; sports weren’t exactly his thing. And this Alice wasn't someone he cared to be in the vicinity of more than necessary. He hoped she simply did what she was expected to, and his trip to Stockton Yards would be a mere formality.

  He hoped, anyway.

  ***

  Porter sat at Joey's terminal, punching in the landing sequence for the planet X-33, where the Xeno 750 was to take place. Joey had rejoined Isellia and the robot as they restored Isellia's XR, and Porter was happy to have something to occupy his mind. If he stayed still long enough, he just started stewing about his situation.

  In a weird way, he was starting to accept what had happened to his legs, but realizing that only made him more angry. His fingers were heavy on the keyboard, punching in the numbers of the sequence with loud thuds on the flat paneled buttons. It beeped acceptance after a few seconds, and the auto-navigation kicked in.

  "Alright guys," Porter said to the rest of the assembled crew — Rex, Celia and Kenpur. "She's plugged in and we're on auto. Should land in about 10 minutes, depending on traffic. But it looks light."

  "Sounds good — I'm looking forward to getting off of ships and onto some terra firma!" Celia said, stretching the full length of her body as she said it.

  "There's not much terra on this planet. It's practically one giant skyscraper," Porter said. "They have a natural history museum on the planet with a small park containing some of the last of each species of plant and some animals that used to live on the planet in more abundance."

  "Sounds dreadful," Celia said, leaning back in her chair. "I hope there's at least a decent watering hole."

  Porter grinned. He couldn't help himself. Celia delighted him. Made him feel other things. Things he tried to ignore. "Well, there are plenty of those. Not sure you'll like them. Mostly businessmen and businesswomen trying to drown the day's sorrows."

  "I'm sure I will find something," Celia said with a wink. Porter turned, blushing a little.

  "Hey, are we landing?" MaBrown said, stepping onto the bridge.

  "Yeah, just plugged in the landing sequence."

  "Great! I've never been to the Inner Circle before. I'll bet I'll find some great holos to take."

  "Just don't put us in any of them!" Porter yelled. He calmed himself a minute. "We like to keep a low profile."

  "No problem. Other than Isellia. Everyone else is going to be taking pictures of her, I don't see what harm mine would do."

  Porter nodded. "Yeah, you can get shots of Isellia. Just mind where you're taking them."

  "Yeah, no shots of me in the shower, perv!" Isellia said in a tone MaBrown couldn't tell was sarcasm or sincere as she walked onto the bridge.

  "How's the XR?" MaBrown asked, not skipping a beat.

  Isellia looked at MaBrown, then turned to Porter. "We're pretty close. The robot's been a big help. I didn't think she'd ever be in one piece again. Oh, and I let Fran look at the books. It turns out, she thinks we can streamline our operation and save a lot of money."

  "You what? Isellia!"

  "What?"

  "You don't just let people look at our books!"

  "She's really smart!"

  "I don't care if she's really smart! She works for Company C!"

  "Don't you think if she were interested in turning us in, she would have done so already?"

  "Isellia, you have to talk to me about these things!"

  "Oh, what's the harm?"

  As if on cue, a warning light flashed on the screen, and a loud siren started blaring across the ship's intercom. The screens started turning red.

  "Oh come on!" Isellia yelled.

  ***

  "This is command station X-32. Prepare to proceed to the designated docking area. Coordinates have been fed to your navigation terminal. You will not exit the ship until authorized personnel have ordered you
to do so. Your cooperation is appreciated."

  "Well, now what?" Isellia said, her hands on her temple.

  "Nothing," Porter said. "We do what they say. We're not running right now, we shouldn't have any reason not to be in compliance."

  Isellia felt a churn in her stomach. She remembered the break-in on Sasuga, the parts she'd stolen for her XR. They wouldn't care about that, would they? She couldn't imagine a Company C-controlled planet wasting its time on a crime in Sasuga, but what if?

  "Do we?" Porter asked pointedly.

  "Why would I have anything to do with this?" Isellia blurted out.

  Porter looked at her, gesturing to Rex and Celia, who also were hanging out on the bridge. "Actually, I was talking to them." Now he eyed her suspiciously.

  Isellia looked around nervously. Then she quickly changed her expression to suspicion as she looked at Celia, Rex and Kenpur. "Yeah, do we?"

  "I wasn't expecting such a welcome," Kenpur said. "I thought things were arranged."

  Celia shrugged, cocking her head with her hands in the air.

  "Well, only one way to find out," Porter sighed, leaning back in his chair.

  ***

  The ship landed with a thud on the landing platform, and the engine's whine slowly descended to stillness. A number of security personnel surrounded the ship, all in helmets and armed with stun sticks. A woman stood in the center of them, also wearing a helmet, her arms crossed.

  After the engines stopped, the hatch at the gangplank clanged open. Porter led them, Isellia holding his chair to help control its speed down the gangplank. The other crew members followed, everyone looking around at the security detail.

  "Not Company C," Rex mouthed to Kenpur.

  Kenpur grinned slightly, but said nothing.

  The woman who appeared to be leading the group stepped forward. She was tall, and a braid of sandy-blonde hair spilled out from underneath her helmet. She walked up to Porter, seemed to take note of his condition a moment, then proceeded, her hand resting on the ROU holstered at her side.

  "Have we done something wrong?" Porter asked. "We're just transporting a racer."

  The woman looked at him through the helmet. "That all you’re transporting?"