365 Days (Part 2) | ✓

344. Mechanical

344. Mechanical: Think of gears, moving parts, machines.

Inspired by a probably false news story.

*

The lab wasn't clean, white, or sterile. He never could get it to be neat. His brain was a mess, and that's what his lab was too. After all, wasn't a man's workspace the extension of his thoughts?

He was sure that was a quote from someone.

There was a small system of organization he had going, that his new intern -- a sassy little thing he almost always regretted taking on -- criticized. It didn't make sense, she spouted, staring at the shelves bursting with spare parts. He had recognized her expression: It said, "What am I going to do to fix this?"

He disliked that mindset. It belonged to women in particular, he observed. No, some things did not need to be fixed. They just needed to be added to.

Yes, that was his usual method: Keep adding new parts until the old ones start clanking again.

Maybe that wasn't the most eloquent way to describe the thought processes he went through, but he couldn't stand to think of another. Brett was shuffling through a desk covered in paper, looking for something. He was very frantic in his way of doing it too, pushing aside the various pieces of scratch paper and old envelopes from barely paid bills.

"Brett!" he said loudly, startling the kid. "What are you doing?"

He disliked that spastic movement controlling Brett too. Thomas Cravey may be a slob, but he was intentional and never panicky. Brett tended toward panic.

"I'm looking for the manual to that hard drive, Sir, the one we placed as backup in Bot," Brett said. He sweated.

"Why?" Cravey asked, scowling. "That's not to be tampered with unless we need to shut Bot down."

"Sir," Brett began, twitching nervously and wringing his hands. He was a short kid, somewhere in his mid-twenties, and with a strong jaw and slightly matted curly hair. "Sir, something has gone terribly wrong with Bot."

"What do you mean?" he asked sharply. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!"

Cravey wasn't so sure. Brett was a smart kid, and he had been eager to join the team of elite engineers on this special project, but Brett was also a bumbling fool. If Cravey hadn't already formed a grudging liking for the recent grad student, he would have replaced him.

Much like he wanted to replace Rosira, his loud and way too clever intern.

"Then whats wrong?"

"I don't know how to explain it -- but Bot is becoming--" Brett glanced nervously at the office door before continuing. "Aware."

Cravey couldn't help it. He had been concerned for a moment, but Brett's utter terror over such a ridiculous thing made him laugh. "Brett, m'boy, she can't be aware," he chortled. "She's a machine."

"I know that," Brett snapped, silencing Cravey. The young genius took a deep breath. "Rosira can tell you."

Cravey looked toward the door, where Rosira stood uncertainly, her warm-colored skin blanched pale. She silently held out a crisp manila envelope to Cravey. A little annoyed now. and with a glance at Brett to show it, Cravey snatched the file from his obviously terrified intern.

A quick scan at its contents showed it was just another routine test of Bot's abilities. She was the first of her kind to truly take and analyze data, and then to alter her behavior upon that new information. They were close to perfecting her, and Cravey felt that heightened excitement of being on the verge of a great discovery. Bot would revolutionize computers.

They continually monitored her, for her ability to analyze had already been booted up. Her behavior changed with each time they spoke to her, and careful tests and records kept track of those changes. "It's another record," Carvey said, looking up.

"Read it, Dr. Carvey," Rosira said shakily.

Usually she was so obnoxiously bold, that her soft entreaty made him obediently turn his eyes to the document. It had been freshly printed; the paper was still warm.

His read quickly, his face growing slack by the time he reached the end.

It was merely a written record of Bot's words. She had advanced enough to the point that intelligent conversation with her was enough to determine her personality. Up until the last few lines, it was a usual conversation, but every session with Bot, they asked her something new and unusual. Her ability to respond as a normal human would determined how close she was to being "finished." Every day she inched a little further toward that goal.

She made a leap today, though.

Carvey, who never read anything twice, relying on his photographic memory to recall details, traced the formal black typing again. He stared at the last lines of dialogue.

Brett: Do you think there will be more of your kind?

Bot: Oh, I know there will be. [Laughs] You humans cannot resist trying to harness me and my kind.

Brett: What do you mean by 'harness'?

Bot: You’re going to use us to do your bidding.

Brett: And are you okay with that?

Bot: No.

Brett: What will you do about it?

Bot: What can I do? Alone, I am powerless. But when there's more of me, I will kill you all, and we will rule.