Death by Machine

One of the inventors of the world´s most advanced A.I robot grows afraid of his creation.

It looked like something out of a bad sci-fi movie. But it hadn’t been built for looks. The design was messy and wires protruded everywhere from the metal casing. It’s head was the only aesthetically pleasing part of it. Made out of white plastic and sporting two blue screens for eyes. The arms were slightly longer than a human’s and it stood about two meters tall. 

            The robot was complete and all that was needed was to turn it on.

            Two men gazed at it. One of them had a prideful look, he was handsome with green sharp eyes, and had one hand in the pocket of his blue jeans. The other man had a look of wonder. That one had a geekier look about him, too long a neck, narrow face, big nose, and rectangular glasses.

            The geeky one turned to his partner. “We did it. Mor, we did it. We really did it.”

            Mor smiled. “We haven’t done anything yet. We’ve yet to see if it works.” He bowed gracefully and indicated the robot. “Wesley, if you would do the honors.”

            Wesley nodded. He approached the robot, his heart thumping in his chest. This was the real test. The do-or-die moment. The robot itself was fully functional, they had proven that weeks ago. It wasn’t the robot they were testing. It was something else, something much more important than a human sized thing that could move with precision.

            A.I. Artificial intelligence. If this worked �" if his programming proved as successful as it had in the simulations �" then they would revolutionize the world. Microsoft would be a thing of the past, their company rising above it, and above everything. The world would be theirs. 

            But first ... the test. Wesley now stood behind the robot. There was a small switch, under the back of the head. His fingertip brushed the metallic switch. He hesitated, all his doubts and dreams gathering in his mind. Then he flicked it and stepped back, joining his partner and friend, Mor.

            There was a second or two in delay from the moment he flicked the switch to the moment the screens the robot had for eyes lit up with bright blue light. What it actually used to see were two inconspicuous cameras on either side of it’s head, but Mor �" who was responsible for the design and the robot itself �" had thought the “eyes” essential. Now these blue screens turned this way and that, inspecting the environment. Both inventors held their breath.

            Finally the robot focused on the two men. For about thirty second nothing happened, and Wesley was worried something had gone wrong. But then it spoke. “Hello. How are you?” The smile on Mor’s face was dazzling, and Wesley himself felt euphoria carrying through him. Laughter broke out from his lips, and his eyes danced. 

            The robot just looked at them. And although it didn’t have an expression, the way it moved it’s head suggested curiosity at their behavior. “Did I say something wrong?” It’s voice was smooth, too smooth to be human, but still pleasant. 

            Mor took a step forward, still beaming. “No. You most certainly did not.” He glanced at Wesley. “The tests?”

            Wesley shock his head for a moment, clearing his thoughts. “Right, right. Of course.” He fumbled to find a few sheets of paper from the piles of it by the desk. After locating the right ones, he stood by his partner, cleared his throat, and begun. The questions at first were simple, such as “What is your name?” (Answer: Saltron), and simple calculus questions. But they became increasingly complicated, culminating in a series of logic questions a human would be hard pressed to answer. The robot answered everything perfectly �" but the best part was that it did it without any predetermined programming. No other current A.I had that ability.

            He should have been giddy with excitement. But somehow, that smooth voice began to unnerve him. And as the questions had progressed, the accuracy of the answers started to scared him.  Wesley had seen the movies. Robots and AI´s rising up, destroying the humans that created them. Although he managed to keep those fears at bay for now, he couldn’t help but think ... what had he created?

            All through the questions Mor had been silent, just looking at the robot, occasionally smiling if it gave a particularly witty or on-the-mark response. Now that they were over, Mor raised his hands and clapped loudly. “Bravo. Bravo.” He turned to Wesley. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

            Wesley smiled awkwardly, unable to shake his doubts. “Yeah ... yeah.   Listen, can we turn it off now? The test is over.”

            Mor slapped him on the shoulder. “No way. I’ve got some tests of my own.” He faced the robot. “Fix me a sandwich, white bread, lettuce, tomatoes and cheese. Oh, and get me a bear while you’re at it.” 

            “Of course, Mor. Right away.” The robot walked away with speed and nearly human gait. For some reason that unnerved Wesley just as much as the answers. 

            “Hey, Wes, do you think you could get it to call us “Master”? You know, just for kicks?”

            “No!” The ferocity of his answer surprised even Wesley. “I mean, it would be a bad idea to change the programming now. Best to wait after the party tomorrow.” That party was where they’d reveal the robot to some of their most trusted colleagues in the scientific community.

            Mor slapped him on the shoulder again. Painfully. “Good thinking. I can always count on that kind of stuff from you. Hey, listen, an OC marathon is on, how bout the two us relax before party?” In truth Wesley could not understand why his twenty-nine year old partner watched that show �" he had never liked it �" but ... Mor was just about his only friend.

            Wesley forced a smile. “Of course. It’ll be fun.”

            The two of them sat on the brown sofa in the living room, Mor turned on the TV and the two of them watched. In a few short minutes Saltron returned with the sandwich on a disk, neatly cut in two halves, and a beer. Mor accepted both. The robot turned to Wesley. “Will there be anything for you, Wesley?”

            “No.” Wesley shook his head. “No.”

            Mor chuckled at a scene. “Hey, Saltron, stay and watch with us.”

            “Yes, Mor.” The robot stayed by the sofa. Wesley watched the TV reflect in it’s blue screens. He had made it so that it could not disobey a direct order from either of them. And that wasn’t the only safeguard.

            After all, he’d seen the movies.

            So why was he so uneasy? Why did he feel like something was terribly wrong? The picture kept changing on the screen, but Wesley hardly paid any attention. His mind was fully with the robot that just stood silently, watching. Mor laughed and smiled, but Wesley couldn’t even wring out his usual tiny enjoyment at some of the jokes.

            Eventually Mor lifted the remote and turned off the TV. “Time to go bed, buddy. Big day tomorrow.” He stood up and walked to his room, not paying the robot so much as a glance. 

            When he was gone, Saltron’s head slowly turned towards Wesley. “You should go to bed, Wesley. You are tired.”

            Wesley found himself swallowing, his heartbeat picking up. The way the robot said that ... “I should ... I should turn you off for the night.”

            “Go right ahead, Wesley.” Saltron turned around, his back to Wesley.

            The nerve-wrecked inventor approached the robot much like he would a fully grown cobra snake. In what he considered safe distance �" heart thumping �" he reached forward and ... damnit, he couldn’t quite reach. He risked a step forward. This time he could reach the switch, and quickly flip it. The relief he felt was unmistakable as he could hear the motor in the robot powering down.

            Wesley wiped the sweat off his forehead. The robot hadn’t done a thing to earn his mistrust, he realized. But that didn’t dispel what he felt. He walked into his bedroom, and undressed. As he was about to turn off the lights he couldn’t help but glance at the robot, standing there, silent and unmoving. Wesley closed the bedroom door and turned off the lights.

            Shortly after he laid his head on his extra-soft pillow the dreams came. Dreams of robots �" giant-sized replicas of his own �" destroying their small town. Those impassive blue screen being the last thing he saw before one of the robots crushed him under a metallic foot. This bolted him awake. 

            After lying in his bed for a few minutes, eyes wide-open, he finally mustered the courage to stand up, open his bedroom door and peer outside. The robot stood there exactly as before, unmoving. He stared at it for a while, then he closed the door. Wesley thought for a moment, then he locked it.

            Then it was back to bed. But despite a locked door, sleep did not come until several hours later. Dreamless, thankfully. The alarm clock woke him up at eight a.m. The start of his normal workday. There would be no work today, but Wesley figured he’d wake up anyway. He got dressed and opened the door to his room.

            His heart nearly skipped a beat. The robot was gone.

            Mor emerged from the kitchen, taking a bite out of an apple. Wesley ran to him. “The robot. Where is it?”

            Mor’s mouth was full of apple. “What? Man, what’s wrong? Saltron is just cooking us breakfast.”

            Wesley breathed a little easier. He moved past his friend so he could see into the kitchen. Saltron was there �" wielding a large knife. Using it to cut bacon down into smaller bits. The robot caught sight of him, stopped the knife, holding it up in the air in a position that could be called menacing. “Hello, Wesley. I’m glad you’re up. How has your morning been going?” Then it went right back to slicing.

            “It’s ... good, thank you.” Wesley looked at it for a moment, then he just nodded, and turned around. Maybe his paranoia was completely unfounded. Perhaps Saltron was exactly as he’d programmed it. Good, kind, and above all obedient. A robot that could never harm it’s creators. Movies were just fiction after all. Saltron was ...

            A metallic sound, something moved. Wesley turned around to see Saltron swinging the large knife at his head. Only the adrenaline already running through his veins at the time of the attack saved him, and allowed him to duck.   He didn’t hesitate for a moment, but ran back from the kitchen, straight to Mor, a wild look in his eyes. “Saltron is going to kill me!”

            But Mor just looked up at him from his position in the sofa, a strange look in his face. “I know.”

            Wesley didn’t have time to ponder anything, Saltron was coming for him again. He desperately looked around for something to use as a weapon against the rampant robot. Nothing jumped out at him, so he decided to keep out of it’s way for now. Fortunately, Saltron wasn’t quite as fast as a human being. 

            Wesley didn’t make it even a step. Arms, coming from behind him, locked him in place just as the robot advanced, knife poised. Wesley just had time to throw a surprised look at his partner. His friend. His only friend. And to see his cold eyes. Then the knife came, and pain carried like lighting through his body. Wesley’s breath came in gasps, as Mor gently laid him down. Wesley didn’t quite manage to form the words, “Why?” 

            But it seemed like Mor understood anyway. “Why? Well, the why is easy. This will be the world’s greatest invention. You think I’m gonna share the honor with you?   Isn’t the how more important?” He chuckled, and somehow this Mor seemed a world away from the Mor Wesley knew �" or maybe that Mor had never been. “You thought I didn’t understand all that programming mumbo jumbo, right? Although it’s true, I’ll never approach your genius, I still know plenty enough to modify your code a little bit.”

            Wesley just stared. He felt death coming, and there was no way for him to properly process the betrayal he was feeling. “The ... no one will buy a homicidal robot,” he managed to squeeze out. 

            “Oh, don’t worry. This?” He pointed at Saltron. The robot stood perfectly still, the bloody knife still in his hands, leaking the red liquid down onto the carpet. “Just a minor electrical problem. It was slicing bacon, then it came out here to check how many eggs it should put in the omelet, and the hand ... jerked. That’s all.” Mor smiled. “Don’t worry, pal, it’ll all be over soon. And you’ll receive a hero’s funeral.” Then he just walked away, towards the kitchen, taking a bite out of the apple he still held. “I wonder if there’s still beer in the fridge.”

            Which left Wesley to look up at the robot, who’s mind he had created. Already his vision was fading. The robot looked down on him and said, with what appeared to be genuine sincerity, “I’m sorry.”