"Captain, is everything all right? I lost track of time for a moment."
"You changed his introduction," said Wingclipper. "That's good. I was getting tired of sir, this and sir, that. Hopefully he will be a more peaceful and orderly robot now instead of reacting to every situation with panic."
"Panic? Captain, is there an emergency? Should I find us the nearest window so we can make our courageous escape?"
"That's still going to be an issue," said Giltek. "Although I did tweak with the language processors so he comes across as more formal and professional. When I went through the hard-drive I reset some variables and installed new programs. 234 has new skills."
"Such as?"
"Well, I will let your robot demonstrate."
Giltek retrieved a basket filled with electrical components and gadgetry and placed it on the table in front of 234. The robot performed an immediate strategic assessment of the contents i a millisecond.
"234," said Giltek. "Assemble."
234's hands moved into a flurry and the white beams from its eyes intensified with the increase in work effort. In less than a minute it had constructed what appeared to be a gun, complete with firepower capability and operated by a single cell, taken from the basket of assorted junk. 234 held up the gun, carried out a quick evaluation of its structure and then handed the weapon to Wingclipper.
"This is very impressive," said Wingclipper. "Before this, 234 could not even replace a light-bulb or activate a vacuum cleaner, and now it can make weaponry from spare parts in just seconds. Time is money, 234's output could quadruple our potential, productivity could go exponential, the chance for earnings could skyrocket, and my business could take off better than a budget airline plane. In the next war we could get by on supplying guns, gadgetry and ammo. We might not have to fight and still we could get paid double."
"I sure do hope you drop the mercenary monetary gain rubbish and focus on having a deeper meaning for serving in wars," said Giltek. "Such as serving a greater cause despite the sacrifice you are making. I think as a human if you act less selfishly, you will get more rewards without money and find a better life purpose, and you might just score lucky with a gal who is on the lookout for a man who can take care of her needs while she takes care of his, rather than him being solely interested in horizontal pipe cleaning."
"I am fully competent in the act of taking care," said Wingclipper.
"I mean having a higher purpose, not just serving as a fornication dispersal officer."
"You reptilians are too self-sacrificial and spiritual. Humans are hardwired for reproduction and survival."
" Now, I want to show you the other thing that 234 can do. Stand up."
Wingclipper got to his feet and 234's mechanical system whirred into action, raising it to a standing position at over seven feet in height. Wingclipper and 234 stood facing each other, Wingclipper with a slight air of trepidation and concern, and 234 with the blank emotionless expression of Voloxian design expertise.
"Wingclipper, when I say, I want you to draw your pistol as fast as you can and point it at 234. And 234, when he does this, I want you to respond in the fashion you have been programmed to."
"Affirmative, captain," said 234.
"I'm your captain," said Wingclipper.
"Be quiet, travelling sex worker."
"I'm sorry, there are still a few errors that will correct themselves over time," said Giltek. "This man really is your master, 234."
"My mistake, captain," said 234 to Wingclipper.
Trying to catch the robot off guard, Wingclipper reached for his belt, removed and raised his pistol, but before he could even reach a ninety degree angle to point the gun directly at 234, the robot responded with a wide open palm facing Wingclipper. The strength of the pull emanating from the palm was too great for Wingclipper to resist, and he witnessed his pistol fly out of his hand, through the air and clang against 234's palm with such ferocity that the barrel curved and bent at an angle.
"That is some upgrade," said Wingclipper.
"Don't look so scared, Wingclipper. The magnets only activate when 234 is threatened with imminent danger, and only when a target is confirmed to be carrying a deadly weapon. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."
"Then that's ok."
Without warning, Giltek's apartment door burst open to reveal a robot with a smaller stature and on wheels carrying a big square cardboard box. 234 reacted instinctively and unleashed the pistol stuck to its palm, reversing the magnetic effect. The wheeled robot had no time to respond. Its head was removed cleanly by the impact of the pistol with a firework display of sparks and snaps, and along with it, the cardboard box was launched against the apartment wall, painting it a sliding portrait of cheese, tomato, dough and pepperoni. The three stood for a moment in the silence of their own embarrassment.
"That's why you should always knock first," said Giltek.
"Did I destroy it?" said 234.
"You're damned right you destroyed it," grumbled Giltek. "Now I'll have to reorder."
* * * * *
Giltek's handy work and scouting for a spare piece took over an hour, and the pizza delivery robot trundled away on its rusty wheels, sporting the head of a frog robot as the three left Giltek's apartment. They took a walk to a street immersed in the surroundings of buildings so tall they disappeared like the thinning end of a needle. Wingclipper watched the array of overhead buses, taxis and transportation robots crowding, bashing and fumbling past each other during the restless rush hour. Giltek found a spot outside a cafe with creaky tables and chairs where in the street a giant bug cooked meat on an open spit to sell to the public. When they sat down, Giltek took out the chip and placed it on the table between the salt and pepper shakers. Wingclipper reached forward slowly, swallowing hard as Giltek shielded the chip with the back of his hand. He looked Wingclipper straight in the eye.
"Do the right thing," he said, then he allowed Wingclipper to take it. "I don't care where you go, just make sure it goes where it belongs."
"But it's so valuable on the market."
"Even so."
"What about you, Giltek? Don't you get tired of the constant technological goings on of this planet? Don't you get off planet once in a while?"
"I love it here. Nobody bothers me. Of course I miss my family and friends, but I get opportunities to go see them."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah. Occasionally. I would rather be in the midst of the action here, learning about the latest technology, fixing robots and having a decent life. Who wants to move all the way to Voloxo to join an official technical firm and, no offence, be working on upgrading robots like yours until retirement? My social life is a phone call and a travel ticket away."
"Sounds like you're still missing something," said Wingclipper.
"I need a big break. I want something to come into my life so valuable that it has the potential to better me and change my circumstances. You're right. I can't carry on like this indefinitely. There will be a road block."
"You'll go mad."
"No, I won't go mad," stated Giltek.
"You'll get lonely."
"I live alone already. Ok, so maybe I have few connections here and I appear to be lonely."
"You need novelty."
"It does get a bit repetitive seeing these buildings and the heavy traffic every day."
"You hate this place really, don't you?"
"Yeah, I'm not its biggest fan."
Wingclipper took the chip, they had coffee in silence, and on departure, slipped something of value into Giltek's jacket pocket.
* * * * *
Giltek returned to his apartment and got to work focusing on repairing a maintenance droid who had been infected with a virus so bad it could not remember any of its duties or original default settings. Turning on the lamp against the darkness of a sky filled with stars, he looked out and contemplated his next move. Reaching into his jacket pocket for a screwdriver, he noticed an unusua
l item, and feeling around its structure, he pulled it out, holding it against the lamp light. He marvelled at the priceless chip's design, cursed at Wingclipper, and then grinned to himself. The reckless captain did have a soft heart after all.
His cheer alerted Doink. This was his ticket out.
* * * * *
Written by Richard C. Parr
* * * * *
About the Author
Richard C. Parr was born in 1986 in England and lives in Nottingham. He has travelled to 20 countries and runs a blog at HumanEmbodiment.com.
Contact Me
Email:
[email protected] Twitter: @HumanEmbodiment
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