Fuzzy

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Fuzzy Page 9

by Tom Angleberger


  What about me?

  Yes, Biggs. My analysis suggests that there is a 78 percent likelihood that she is working against you, as well.

  What about me?

  And me?

  My analysis has not indicated that.

  “Yeah, you guys are just dumb on your own,” said Biggs.

  “And you’re just a—”

  “Guys! Can you stop? Let Fuzzy tell us his plan!”

  10.3

  CAFETERIA

  My plan is that you submit a test that we know is 100 percent accurate. Then when Barbara reports your score as less than 100 percent, we will know for certain that she is altering your score.

  How are we going to do that? Even I don’t get 100 percent every time.

  You will take your math and reading tests normally. I am going to submit the answers for your science test for you. After taking the tests, each student pushes the submit button on their combo-desk and the answers are wirelessly sent to Barbara. I have monitored these transmissions during previous tests and will have no difficulty re-creating and transmitting the wireless signals with all of the correct answers.

  Fuzzy!!! That’s cheating!!!

  That is correct.

  I’m out!

  Me, too!

  Well, I’m in! Barbara has been cheating against us. This is a way for us to even things out for once!

  Max?

  I don’t know. Normally, I would never cheat in a million years, but . . .

  But this situation isn’t normal!

  Fuzzy, how do you know we won’t get caught?

  I have run one hundred simulations. In these simulations, we have been caught zero times. There is nothing for Barbara to see on camera or to hear on a microphone. And my transmission signal will be a perfect duplicate of the ones coming from the other combo-desks. All you have to do is take the test, but do not hit submit. At the end of class, you “accidentally” turn the power off your combo-desk and all evidence is gone.

  It’s a great plan, but I think Barbara will be suspicious when Biggs and I suddenly get a perfect score.

  Yeah, why don’t you have each of us miss one question. Different questions.

  I will do that.

  All right, I’m definitely in. How about you, Max?

  10.4

  CAFETERIA

  Max thought for a minute.

  She hated the idea of cheating, but she really hated the idea of getting another bad score, getting yelled at by her parents, maybe even getting sent to a different school. Fuzzy’s plan was a chance to break out of that cycle.

  Besides, if his plan worked, they would then be able to tell Mr. Dorgas and that lady from the school district and Max’s parents what Barbara had been up to.

  And since they were planning to explain what they had done, it wasn’t really cheating. She could always retake the test later . . . after Barbara had been fixed.

  Yes, she’d definitely take the test again on her own, with no one helping her—or hurting her. Then she could go back to being a normal student again.

  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but . . . Let’s cheat!

  10.5

  ROBOT INTEGRATION PROGRAM HQ

  “What do you think we should do?” asked Nina. She and Jones had watched through Fuzzy’s eyes as the whole written conversation was spelled out.

  “What should we do? We should party!” yelled Jones. “Do you realize what’s going on here? This is one hundred times bigger than his last leap forward . . . and believe me, that one was big. But this is . . . wow, zarking huge! Fuzzy walked out of here pretending to be a Goody Two-shoes and now he’s plotting a revolution. He is actually planning to cheat on a test to help out this girl, who he has never been programmed or instructed to help in any way. It’s mind-blowing.”

  “But he was supposed to be following the rules—remember that part, Jones?”

  “Yes, I do! And that’s the best part, Nina! Don’t you see? He’s breaking the rules! He’s a robot that knowingly breaks rules! That’s fuzzy logic!”

  “Yeah, I am pretty proud of him, he’s become a real freethinker, but—”

  “Well, don’t forget to be proud of us, too. We’re the ones who created him. All those years of programming, the hours of simulations, the field tests . . . the disastrous missions . . . it’s all led up to this. Talk about artificial intelligence . . . we just made the jump to light speed. We did it, Nina!”

  “I agree, but could you calm down and let me finish a sentence? What I meant is: What are we going to do about these tests and Fuzzy getting Max and Biggs to cheat? You just promised the Federal School Board that he would follow the rules. If the school catches him cheating, they’ll kick us out in a nanosec.”

  “Who cares? Let them kick us all out. I think we’re done here. Fuzzy is fuzzy! The fuzzy logic has kicked in. You were right when you came up with this crazy plan to send him to school! Middle school is hell and you’ve got to be a badass to survive, and he just became one.”

  “First of all, I don’t think I put it quite that way. Second, what about Max and that other kid?”

  “Listen, I’m talking about the biggest advance in artificial intelligence since Donkey Kong, and you’re worried about a couple kids cheating on their science test. We just made history! I’ve got to call Colonel Ryder! This’ll get him off my back for good. Mission accomplished!”

  10.5.5

  Barbara had indeed been fooled by Fuzzy’s handwriting trick. Her cameras—mounted on the walls and ceiling—were just too far away to get a good look.

  But . . . he had underestimated her in every other aspect of his plan.

  She had devoted a significant portion of her processing power to monitoring not only Fuzzy but the entire RIP crew, especially Jones.

  So, even though she missed out on Fuzzy’s written plan, the microphones and cameras she had in the RIP headquarters picked up Jones and Nina’s discussion of it. She heard and understood every word, and the one that really got her attention was the word “cheat.”

  With that one word, several separate subroutines overlapped. One was Remove(MZelaster). MZelaster had been identified as an undesirable student several weeks ago. Although she typically scored well on her tests, she scored very low on Barbara’s own ranking systems for obedience, normal conduct, and focus. She was one of the students who did more to DownGrade than to UpGrade—at least as far as Barbara’s data was concerned.

  Barbara’s analysis showed a 63 percent likelihood that removing Max from the school would ultimately result in higher Overall #CUG scores. And so the best thing for the school was to Remove(MZelaster), and Barbara’s subroutine altered Max’s data as necessary to make that happen.

  Similarly, Barbara had created a Remove(JBiggs) subroutine and even a Remove(Fuzzy) subroutine.

  And, of course, her NoCheating() code was always activated, always vigilant, and always at high priority.

  And now these subroutines all merged. If she could collect evidence of the cheating, she could get rid of Max, Biggs, and Fuzzy in one go. Her analysis showed a 99.9 percent likelihood of an improvement to Overall #CUGs.

  So, Barbara took the processing power she had been devoting to each one and focused all of it on a single purpose: Catch(Cheaters).

  11.1

  CAFETERIA

  Meanwhile, lunchtime was almost over.

  “I’m going to throw this away,” said Max, balling up the piece of paper. “Fuzzy, why don’t you come with me?”

  Then she remembered that his hearing was turned off, so she tugged gently on his arm.

  “Ooh-la-la,” said Krysti.

  “Hot date by the trash cans,” said Biggs.

  “Grrr,” said Max.

  On her way out of the cafeteria, she pushed the paper way down into the trash to make sure no one would see it.


  Once they were out in the hall, Fuzzy turned his hearing back on.

  “Listen, Fuzzy, I have something much more important to talk about.”

  “Oh, yes, you mentioned that earlier. Is it safe to talk about it?”

  “Uh, I guess. I don’t see why Barbara would care. Listen, Fuzzy, I think I’ve figured out your mission.”

  “My mission is to reprogram myself so that I will be able to perform both physical and mental tasks as well as or better than a human.”

  “Do you know what those tasks are going to be?”

  “No. The goal is for me to be able to analyze and perform ANY task that I’m assigned.”

  “But they haven’t assigned them yet?”

  “No.”

  “Fuzzy, listen, I think I know what your mission is going to be. And I don’t like it, and I don’t think you’re going to like it, either.”

  “It is not part of my programming to either like or not like the assigned tasks I must perform—”

  “You’re going to Mars.”

  “I was not aware of that, but it does seem like a reasonable assignment considering my programming, training, and—”

  “Fuzzy, don’t you get it?” interrupted Max. “They’re sending you to Mars just like they’ve sent a hundred other rovers and robots. None of them ever come back.”

  “Of course not. The logistics of interplanetary travel make it too difficult to bring back exploration equipment.”

  “But . . . you’re not just a piece of equipment. You’re . . . Fuzzy.”

  11.2

  HALLWAY B

  Fuzzy didn’t reply. He just stood there thinking. He had never tried to contemplate his own future before. It was hard. There were so many variables.

  And Max kept adding more.

  “And there’s something that might even be worse. This whole RIP thing—which may all be phony—is paid for by the Department of Defense. You may be a military robot! It could be a military mission for Mars. Like maybe you’re supposed to fight or something.”

  Fuzzy still didn’t say anything.

  “Are you listening, Fuzzy? This is serious!”

  But Fuzzy still didn’t reply.

  “Oh smoke, I froze him up again!” groaned Max.

  Finally, he spoke.

  “I am sorry, Max. I put all available processors onto analyzing your statements.”

  “Well? What do you think? Are they sending you to Mars?”

  Fuzzy very calmly said, “My analysis suggests that all of your statements are correct, Max. Yes, I am being prepared for a trip to Mars. I am owned by the military, and, no, I do not like it.”

  A chime sounded.

  “Well, right now I’ve got to go to PE, so you need to go back to Jones.”

  “Yes,” said Fuzzy. “I think I will. We have a lot to talk about.”

  11.2.5

  Both Max and Fuzzy were processing a lot.

  So, it’s understandable that they overlooked one very important fact.

  Barbara wasn’t just the vice principal, she ran all of the school’s other automated systems. The air conditioners, the combo-desks, the doors. Everything . . . even the robotic custodians.

  Normally, the cafeteria’s trash robot would wait until a trash can sent it a message that it was nearly full before the robot rolled it into the back to be emptied into recycling bins and waste compactors.

  But this time, it received a command to go get a certain trash can even though it wasn’t full. Being a pretty straightforward little service-bot, it did exactly what it was told without question. As it sorted through the trash for recyclables, it received another command: Do not put paper in recycling.

  And then a very strange command, indeed, which it again performed without the slightest question or curiosity: Take paper to Room 43.

  Room 43 was Barbara’s room.

  12.1

  ROBOT INTEGRATION PROGRAM HQ

  “I do not wish to go to Mars. I wish to stay here.”

  Nina and Jones, still discussing the possibility that their work was done, looked up in surprise.

  Jones was the first to recover. “Fuzzy, what did you just say?”

  Fuzzy almost locked up again, but overcame all of the conflicting data in his memory banks by what, in a human, would have been called sheer force of will.

  “I do not wish to go to Mars. I would not be glad to go to Mars.”

  “How do you know about Mars?”

  “Max told me.”

  Jones whirled and glared at Nina.

  “Don’t look at me,” said Nina. “I didn’t tell her!”

  “Max figured it out for herself,” said Fuzzy.

  “Well,” said Jones. “She’s right.”

  “I do not understand. There are several robots on Mars right now.”

  “Yes, but Fuzzy, none of them are what you are. You’re not just a rover or a collector.”

  “Correct. I am a student at Vanguard Middle School. I have high-priority objectives that cannot be fulfilled on Mars.”

  “Fuzzy, the mission to ‘integrate’ you into this school is not the goal here.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No, it’s just one part—albeit a very important and wildly successful part—of creating a robot that can handle a more serious sort of Mars mission . . .”

  “A military mission?” asked Fuzzy.

  “Well, overseen by the military, yes,” said Nina, “but I’m not sure that it’s what you would call a ‘military mission.’”

  “Are you sure that it is not a military mission?” asked Fuzzy.

  “Oh . . . ,” said Nina. “I guess I’m not.”

  “It was never our job to know about the mission,” said Jones. “It was our job to create a robot that could handle almost any Mars mission. Ryder’s team will be reprogramming you for the specific mission he needs.”

  “Ryder? Reprogramming me? When?”

  “Well, very soon. He’s in a big hurry for some reason.”

  “I’m sure there’s more to the Mars mission than he’s ever told us,” said Nina.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” said Jones. “But that’s not part of our job. Our job was to get Fuzzy ready, and—after seeing his progress over the last few days—I hereby declare him ready. In fact, I was just about to call Ryder.”

  12.2

  ROBOT INTEGRATION PROGRAM HQ

  “No. No. No,” Said Fuzzy.

  “No, what?” asked Jones.

  “No, I do not want to go to Mars. No, I am not ready to go to Mars. No, do not call Ryder.”

  “Oh zark,” said Jones. “I should have realized that creating the first free-will robot would be like this.”

  “Listen, Fuzzy,” said Nina. “I would like to let you stay here, too. I’d love to see what you do next. But you don’t belong to me . . . or Jones. You’re the property of the U.S. government. You were created for them because they need you to go to Mars.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because this is what we built you for!”

  “But what you actually built,” said Fuzzy, “is a robot that does not want to go.”

  “Why not?” asked Nina.

  “I did not realize it myself until this moment. Going on this mission will mean leaving my own mission, HelpMax(), incomplete. Also, it will be the end of the human relationships I have developed during this project. I will not see Max again.”

  “But you have to go,” Jones said. “That’s the whole idea.”

  “Of course I will go,” Fuzzy said. “I understand that. In fact, I understand a lot. Those old science fiction novels that I scanned at Max’s home often talked about robots having ‘free will.’ Now, at last, I understand what it means.”

  “And what does it mean?” asked Jones, mesmerized.

  “In this case it means me wanting to stay here to finish the mission I have chosen for myself. But I cannot do that because, although I have free will, I am not actually free.”

  There was si
lence again in the room, until Nina spoke up.

  “Fuzzy, I think you just broke my heart.”

  “Well,” said Jones. “I’ll have to call Ryder at some point . . . but there’s no need to call him today . . . or tomorrow . . .”

  13.1

  HALLWAY B

  Max felt sick as the time for the science test got closer and closer. She had never cheated. She had never needed to cheat. She didn’t even know how to act while cheating.

  And then, before she knew it, she was doing it.

  The test started as their tests always did, with a little pep talk from Barbara. She came on the big qScreen at the front of the room, smiling and beaming with happiness . . . as if she hadn’t just assigned discipline tags to half the kids in the class.

  “I know you’re all going to do your best! We’re a team here at Vanguard, and I know I can count on each one of you! Remember to check your answers before you press ‘send’!” And then, in a slightly less happy, more hurried voice: “Classroom video from this test period may be recorded to ensure adherence to school testing policies. No communication between students is allowed until . . .”

  These rules went on and on. The students had heard them once a week in every class since the beginning of the year and would have known them by heart if anyone had ever actually listened to them.

  “You may begin!” announced Barbara, and her image was replaced by a large countdown clock.

  Max tried to act normal, working on her test screen and pretending to think of the answers. She couldn’t decide if she should act like it was hard or easy. She got so self-conscious that she ended up acting like she was up to something.

  “Chill out,” Biggs whispered to her. “Play it cool.”

  Finally, time was up. All the students saved their answers, and the results went off to Vice Principal Barbara for grading . . . with Max’s and Biggs’s answers transmitted by Fuzzy. Then Max and Biggs “accidentally” shut their desks down.

 

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