“The basic metallic framework for each ’bot is hung here,” Ledbetter said, indicating a series of hooks and clamps where a pair of robots stood immobile.
“Assembly is slow, so a new frame only starts down the line every seven minutes,” he said.
As we watched, the two robots unpacked a titanium frame from a holding cradle, carefully removing stays and plastic ties. The frame only included the torso and pelvis part of the robot. The chest area was completely open.
The robots attached the torso framework to a hanging assembly that held it in place vertically. It slowly made its way toward a bank of robotic arms.
We walked around the outside of the cabinets that held the controllers of the robotic arms.
“The androids’ arms and legs are lowered from overhead storage and these industrial robots attach them,” said Ledbetter.
“Are all the parts the same?” I asked.
“Up to this point, yes,” said Kurland, looking back and forth at us. “We have a standard configuration. All robots and androids are designed to be five feet seven inches tall. We find that is a convenient average height.”
“No tall or overweight robots, then?” asked Mattern.
“No, if we copied you, it would be a custom order,” laughed Ledbetter.
There was a robot welder in the bank of robotic arms, and sparks flew as it worked.
“There seems to be an incredible number of welds,” I said.
“Here, each robot gets 1,327 individual welds,” said Ledbetter. “We want them to hold together.”
“Titanium welding is very difficult, and precise,” said Kurland. “These industrial robots are among the most sophisticated ever constructed.”
“But we need titanium for the essential strength it provides,” said Ledbetter. “It’s as strong as steel, but weighs 40 percent less.”
“It’s also flexible, isn’t it?” I asked.
“No, not really,” said Kurland. “But it returns to its original form after being bent. A good alloy of titanium has a strong shape memory.”
A robot was coming out of the banks of welders, and as we walked along, robotic machine arms laid it flat on a slow-moving conveyor belt.
“From here on, assembly is horizontal,” said Ledbetter.
“I also see now the workers are all humans,” said Jenny.
Kurland responded. “Yes, this is the kind of precise, fine installation work we cannot delegate to robots,” Kurland said. He knitted his brow as he realized Jenny had asked the question, and looked around somewhat in annoyance.
There were four men, two on either side, installing the “guts” into the torso of a robot that was farther ahead, and stationary. They all nodded at us as we passed. They wore helmets with the visors up, and they seemed to have shielded aprons. Kurland kept going, and I realized he didn’t want to stop in that spot, which of course caught my attention and raised my suspicions.
I stopped. “What is installed in the torso? It doesn’t have any internal organs, so what is the space used for?”
Kurland stopped but didn’t walk back to us. “The most important thing is the power plant, which is hooked up to the plutonium pile,” he said. “That’s why our men here wear shielding. Although the plutonium fuel is completely enclosed in a ceramic container, it’s still highly radioactive.”
“Better safe than sorry,” said Mattern.
“Yes, better not drop one, though,” said Ledbetter as he lobbed a shiny, beige ball at him.
Mattern yelped and grabbed it in mid-flight, then put it down on the ground, backing away.
“That’s not the plutonium. That’s the package the inverter comes in,” laughed Ledbetter.
“You nearly gave him a heart attack,” said Coltingham.
“He looks too serious,” said Ledbetter. “You should enjoy the nickel tour here. These guys are doing all the work.” He walked over and picked up the ball, squeezing it. “It’s plastic. Not ceramic.”
“The pile and power system takes up the entire torso?” I asked.
“Mostly,” said Ledbetter, casting a glance at Kurland, and then at a rack with a series of etched plates in them.
I walked over to them. “What are these? They seem to have some transistors attached.”
“Those are called integrated circuits,” said Kurland. “It’s an innovation of my own design. It allows us to put as many as two dozen transistors together on one integrated unit. It allows faster programming operation, and saves space.” He picked one up. “The circuits are etched on instead of using wires. That’s more compact and durable.”
“These are only used in your robots?”
“Yes, it’s my patent,” he said. “It took me years to get it perfected.” He pointed at Jenny. “It allows faster computation, and that allows recent models, such as our police woman here, to act more life-like. That’s especially important when androids are used in a service capacity and have to interact closely with humans.”
“The head isn’t attached to the robot at this point,” I said. “When do they connect?”
“The positronic brain comes last, because its installation is the most delicate and painstaking part of the robot’s assembly,” said Kurland. “The circuitry enclosed in the torso is the back-up for memory and data storage. A robot would be severely impaired if the connection was cut between the body and the brain, but the body would still be able to operate and follow basic commands.”
“It would have a bad case of amnesia,” said Ledbetter.
“Those circuits are awfully close to the pile, aren’t they?” asked Coltingham.
“The pile is enclosed in solid lead, which, in addition to providing shielding, adds strength to the robot’s torso,” said Kurland. “There’s no electromagnetic leakage.” He extended a hand. “Can we move on?”
As we walked along, Kurland commented, “Many people find having a completely underground factory potentially claustrophobic, which is why we have such bright lights and an open layout.”
“Why is this underground?” I asked. “
“I wanted it sealed to eliminate as much as possible any dust infiltration,” he said. “Even in the short time you’ve been here, Mister Shuster, I’m sure you’ve seen how much effort it takes to keep powdery Martian dust from insinuating itself everywhere.”
“Yes, it’s one of those things you don’t realize until you get here.”
“This plant is also as climate-controlled as possible,” he added.
As we walked along, another completed robot, with its arms and legs attached, slid slowly ahead on rollers. “This is what we call ‘Walt’s World,’” said Ledbetter, “after Walt Disney. This is where the external silicone ‘skin’ is applied, and all the stuff that makes an android look human.”
Kurland nodded to an empty series of rollers that went off to one side. “If a robot was earmarked to stay a robot instead of an android, it heads off in that direction.”
“Seems pretty dusty and disused over there,” I said.
“Most of our demand is for androids. Major construction for the colony is over,” said Kurland. “Even when heavy construction is needed now, androids are usually used.”
“Because there is no difference in the inherent strength of robots and androids,” I said.
“Yes,” Kurland replied.
“So androids are built on the same robust base developed for construction robots.”
“Yes, Mister Shuster, what’s your point?”
“No point, just an observation. I think it’s a plus that all androids have that kind of strength. It’s an asset to the colony,” I said.
“Can we move on?” asked Kurland.
“Yes, we don’t have all day. I have work to do,” said Coltingham.
“Let’s cut through to where the androids are getting their finishing touches,” said Ledbetter. “There’s really nothing to see as the silicone outer coverings are applied. It’s more like tailoring than assembly.”
We walke
d along the assembly line and took a hard right, entering a pressurized room. There were a half dozen headless androids propped up in stands.
“We use demographics of NATO and WarPac countries to determine the flesh tone of the androids,” said Ledbetter. “We want them to be as diverse as our population here in the colony.”
“What about the facial features?” I asked.
“The face is essentially a mask, attached after the positronic brain is affixed. Over here …” he said, pointing to some workers in sterile suits “… is where the brains get their last tests and are attached.”
Kurland pointed to the floor. “Don’t cross that yellow line. Only staff members in sterile suits are allowed in the immediate area of the positronic brain assembly.” Although the positronic brain was a relatively small part of the whole, there were a good half dozen people milling around as it was being readied for attachment.
Ledbetter looked at Jenny. “This is where you came to life.”
“Yes, I’ve recognized nothing up until now, but this room, the curtains, the walls, the suits,” she said. “This is where I activated. I even remember the sound of the pressurized air system.”
“I suppose it’s like a delivery room for you, then,” I said.
“Do you remember when you were born?” she asked.
We all looked at each other. Ledbetter raised an eyebrow, and Coltingham and Mattern looked puzzled. Kurland had a look that combined irritation and concern.
“No, Jenny, humans don’t start that way,” Kurland said. “We come to life before our brains are fully formed. It’s a much slower process. Organisms have to grow. We aren’t assembled by someone else.” I looked at Kurland. “You have a better explanation?” he sneered.
“No, you’re doing fine, Dr. Spock.”
“Thank you,” said Jenny.
“No need to thank me for an explanation,” Kurland said.
“No, thank you, humans, all of you, for making me,” she said.
“Jay-sus!” Mattern hissed under his breath.
“I think we have all seen enough,” said Kurland, as he headed out at a fast pace.
Because he was so small, he had to trot to move us along as fast as he wanted. I decided to match him by keeping up with maybe half the strides he took, keeping alongside of him.
“Your robots are doing just fine,” I said quietly. “They are very intelligent and adaptable. You are to be commended for the sophistication of your work.”
He seemed taken a bit aback, and he let his guard down briefly. “I have to concede I didn’t realize how life-like they have become.”
“Civilized, too,” I said. “Trust me. From my experience in politics and public affairs, gratitude is the least common human emotion.”
We walked back into the main part of the factory and passed the assembly line again without stopping. We went back to Kurland’s office, with a brief stop to drop off the hard hats and other gear.
“I hope you are satisfied with everything you saw, Mister Shuster,” said Kurland as he sat back down, sounding both bored and eager to move on.
“Of course, I appreciate you taking the time to show me,” I said. “It was very informative. I’m happy to know a little about our colony’s largest industry.”
“All the mining companies are larger than Tesla,” he said. “Mitago is in the Top Ten mining corporations overall, including Earth,” he said. “We’re not that large, though I like to tell myself that we are crucial.”
“Tesla is the largest corporation based on Mars,” I said. “You are an important part of the economy, and your androids are an important part of Martian society.”
“I don’t think androids have a social role, unless you define society as including service workers,” he said warily. “Yes, we have a toehold in that sector.”
“More than a toehold,” I said. “Even in the short time I have been here, without really trying, I’ve seen a lot of evidence that androids are being used as companions.”
Coltingham and Mattern both tensed up in their chairs.
“You mean as pets?” asked Kurland snidely. “I hardly think so. That’s a poor use for an expensive piece of machinery, although some children may think of their android nannies as companions of sorts.”
“I mean as dates, escorts, social companions,” I said.
“I have no idea what you are referring to,” he said thinly.
“Sexual surrogates, concubines,” I said, pressing the point. “It’s not a very well-kept secret.”
“Mister Shuster, once an android is purchased, it is the responsibility of the owner to police its usage. Tesla sells products, not services. This is a colony, not a police state. People are not under surveillance. Are you implying that androids are being misused?”
“Even if it were true, as Mister Shuster is saying, that androids are being used for what might be called inappropriate purposes,” said Coltingham, “that is not against the law.”
“It might be considered to fall broadly under the category of personal care services,” said Kurland. “What is the continuum between a massage and making love? What’s the difference between a massage for relaxation, and for therapeutic purposes, or rehabilitation?”
He almost sneered. “You seem to be a creature of your repressed Catholic upbringing.”
“How do you know I’m Catholic?”
“You’re Italian, aren’t you?”
“How do you know that? Shuster is not an Italian name.” It wasn’t like I didn’t think he’d investigate me. I had done some research on him, also.
“Well, not all of us went to college in California during the Summer of Love,” I continued.
“Where is this conversation going, Mister Shuster?” asked Kurland.
“Yes, that’s what I’d like to know,” said Coltingham. “I have no reports of any crimes or complaints involving the inappropriate use of an android.”
“You would be well-advised to stay behind your desk and keep shuffling your paperwork, young man,” said Kurland, “at least until the new governor arrives.”
I realized he knew I had blown up at Coltingham the other day, and he was trying to get me to do it again. I wasn’t falling for it.
“I had a friend in college who went on to become a rabbi,” I said. “He’d call this kind of discussion ‘pilpul,’ Talmudic hair-splitting. It’s a distinction without a difference.”
“There’s no way you could even get someone who was using an android in bed to make a complaint,” said Mattern. “Who’s to complain?”
“Shut up, you’re not helping,” snapped Coltingham.
“The philosophy of victimless crime is for another time,” I said. “Prostitution is against the law.”
“Can you prove anything?” asked Kurland raising his voice. “Do you have any hard proof that any androids are being used for any purposes you, sitting as grand arbiter, consider as inappropriate?”
“You’re correct. There is nothing in the regulations against using an android for sex. That doesn’t violate the letter of the law, but certainly the spirit. What kind of mischief may come from using robots as sex toys? Or have you never heard of BDSM?”
“There’s the First Law,” said Kurland. “Robots are not to endanger human lives. ‘A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.’”
Jenny spoke up. “But the Second Law of Robotics says, ‘A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.’ What if one of us accidentally hurts a human through a lack of experience and knowledge? That which you have just mentioned, BDSM—bondage, domination, sado-masochism? I know essentially nothing of that subject. If I were—”
“Shut up,” snapped Kurland. “That’s enough from you, clanker,”
He then turned to me. “As for you, I will not put up with being badgered by some low level bureaucratic hack with delusions of grandeur. If you think—”
Th
at did it, my temper boiled over. “Oh, shut up. I owe my job to Admiral Heinlein and the space administration, not you, and I know what he’d think of you, if he doesn’t already.”
I could feel the hair on the back of my neck standing up.
“You insolent prick, you won’t last long here,” Kurland snarled as his face turned red.
“Temper, temper,” I said sarcastically. “Remember, I let you off the hook for a $25,000 fine.”
“What do you think you are accomplishing by this kind of behavior?” asked Coltingham.
“Injecting a dose of accountability into this colony before things go back to normal,” I said.
“Once you go back to Earth,” said Kurland, “you won’t be able to get a job as a dog catcher.”
“Yeah, well, I saw those androids in the sterile room. If I’m so far off-target, why the heck are they being made with sex organs in the first place?”
Kurland stared at me. “They’re androids. They are supposed to duplicate the human form.”
“Do male androids have penises and testicles, then? Because all the ones I saw were female.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact they do,” he snapped.
“Do they work?”
“That kind of functionality exceeds form, so no they don’t,” he said. “But human females are passive sexual partners.”
I think I actually smirked a little. “Wow, if you had gone to Berkley instead of Caltech, you might have learned how wrong that can be,” I said.
Coltingham tried to suppress a chuckle.
Kurland stood up and planted his hands on his desktop. His nostrils flared.
“Mister Shuster, what is the purpose of this whole exchange? I’m a busy man. I make a product and make a living in the marketplace. I’m not some bureaucrat who got his job because of political connections.”
“Damn, that’s pretty capitalist coming from a Marxist who runs a company licensed by the Eastern Bloc,” I said. “Are you about to tell me what’s good for Tesla is good for Mars?”
He glared at me but didn’t say a word.
I took a deep breath. “The purpose of this whole exchange is that I plan to investigate whether the inappropriate use of an android led to the death of Governor Wilder. He died while screwing an android. He was an elderly man with health problems. One of my many duties as interim administrator is to protect the health and safety of the colonists. If any of the androids that Tesla manufactures can be dangerous, it is my business.”
Another Girl, Another Planet Page 19