Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Part 21
Part 22
Part 23
Part 24
Part 25
Part 26
Part 27
Part 28
Part 29
Part 30
Part 31
Part 32
Part 33
Part 34
Part 35
Part 36
Part 37
Part 38
Part 39
Part 40
Part 41
Part 42
Part 43
Part 44
Part 45
Part 46
Part 47
Part 48
Part 49
Part 50
Part 51
Part 52
Part 53
Part 54
Part 55
Part 56
Part 57
Part 58
Part 59
Part 60
Part 61
While Lars showered, I busied myself trying to open our first crate of rations. The kitchen cupboards and fridge were empty. I figured everybody still here after hours when the attack started must’ve taken as much as would fit in their car, if they had one, then set out in search of family members or spouses.
Not so easy to take one of these huge, heavy crates with them however. Neither was there any obvious way to open them, as whoever looted the kitchen also seemed to have made off with all the hand tools I remember lying here and there.
I experimentally tugged at the lid of the nearest crate anyway. To my surprise, it came loose. “Don’t hurt me!” A timid voice cried out from inside. “I’m sorry mister robot! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” I peered over the rim to discover Sue curled up inside with a bunch of opened packages of cookies, crackers and other snacks, as well as some bottled water.
When death by cold, metal claws never came, Sue eventually opened her eyes and peered up at me. “Oh, it’s you! How did you get in? I thought it was the robots, I must look pretty silly.” I assured her she didn’t and helped her out of the crate.
“No sillier than usual, anyway” Lars called, still steaming from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. I told him to go let Helper know the shower was available, then gave Sue a synopsis of everything that happened between the time I commuted home and when we arrived here.
She stood there eyes wide, hand over her mouth, hanging on my every word. When at last I got it all out, she urged me to introduce her to Madeline. I found her seated at the table just outside the kitchen in a small common area used for breaks.
She wore a grumpy expression for reasons unclear to me until she spoke. “You were getting food, remember?” I introduced Sue. Madeline seemed unimpressed. “I can’t eat this. Do you need my help? Where are the crates kept?”
I assured Sue that Madeline’s just cranky because all we had to eat for the past two days was a pair of rabbits. Sue gagged. “You ate bunnies!?” I assured her the alternative would’ve been much worse. She picked up on my meaning immediately and didn’t guilt me any further.
“I suppose I am being rude. I’m just tired, but that’s no excuse. My name’s Madeline LeBlanc. I met your friend here at a protest.” Sue then introduced herself in turn. Madeline told her own side of the story, filling the gaps in my version as Sue looked on, fully engrossed.
Then Helper returned from the bathroom in her green dress, body still steaming, towel wrapped around her head as if she had any hair to dry with it. Upon spotting Helper, Sue exploded from her chair, dashed over and embraced her.
“OH MY GOD GIRL LOOK AT YOU” Sue squealed, “YOU’RE GORGEOUS!!” Helper took her by the hands and the two did that thing even grown women sometimes do where they jump up and down together, emitting ear piercing shrieks of what I assume is happiness. “I know right!?” Helper boasted. “But you too, I’ve always thought so.”
Those two were inseparable for hours after that. Catching up, lamenting the limited selection of dresses to be found in today’s disappointing corpse piles, and making plans for a girls only slumber party.
I felt brief pangs of jealousy as, following Helper’s apparent death and resurrection, I wanted all of her attention for the remainder of the night. But I resigned myself to the realization that I’m not the only one who adores her, and gave the two of them some space.
Madeline and I took the elevator down to the cave in search of a crowbar to open the crates with. I realized on the way down that it would be the first time anybody not in the employ of Evolutionary Robotics got a glimpse of what we do here. What we did, rather.
“Listen...Madeline. You may see some projects down there that disturb you.” She shrugged and countered that it couldn’t be any worse than the hospital. “I just want you to know none of it’s dangerous” I added.
“I think I’ll be alright as long as you don’t have a bunch of robot sex slaves chained up down there or some weird shit like that.” I laughed. But when Madeline didn’t, I figured out she wasn’t joking. “Of course not” I assured her. “Just a few human ones. But sometimes I wrap ‘em in tin foil and pretend they’re robots. Don’t tell Helper.”
The elevator doors parted, and the two of us set out in search of tools. When I didn’t immediately spot any, I feared whoever looted the upper level must’ve come down here and done the same.
When I noticed Madeline was no longer beside me, I scanned the room and found her quietly studying the Garden. “Oh that. An early project of mine, and the prototype for the larger project that was being worked on here before...well, you know.”
Her eyes darted around, following the movement of the crude little robots as they fought over bright spots. “You made these didn’t you.” I beamed with pride, though the inflection of her voice bordered on accusatory.
“Not my most advanced creations, I’ll admit. Still, each of them is interesting and appealing in it’s own unique way, and I adore them all as much as the day I built them.” She turned to stare at me with undisguised dismay.
“They compete or something, am I right? Like natural selection.” I nodded and told her all about the experiment proper, still underway in the cave network beyond the nearby security hatch. Her obvious disgust only grew more severe.
“Wow. I mean hooooly shit. You were really asking for it, you know?” I told her I didn’t, so she clarified. “You dumb shits. You think you’re so clever, screwing around with your little machines. Making them so they can evolve, blind to the significance of it. You’ve practically rolled out the red carpet for Skynet, and sent it a gold trimmed invitation.”
I laughed, having heard that old chestnut more times than I care to recount. “What’s funny about that?” she snapped. “Have you forgotten why we’re down here? There’s god knows how many murderous robots roaming the country as we speak, nukes probably not even done falling on targets of strategic value to them. How can you not realize the hand you had in bringing that about?”
I offered that nobody in my field takes such movies seriously. That we always thought the primary threat would be a strong AI, and that’s still decades off. She was by this point nearly livid, gesticulating wildly as she lectured me.
“Did it never occur to any of you that a robot doesn’t need to be a genius in order to pick up a gun? To aim it, and pull the trigger? God damn. I remember reading all those articles about how this would never be allowed to happen.
At first they said there would never be armed robots. Then it changed to no autonomous armed robots. Then it was no autonomous armed robots that don’t kill without human authorization. Like bringing a frog to a slow boil.
Did you actually want this to happen? Were you and your egghead buddies actively trying to make it a reality? At this point, based on what I’ve seen, it’s hard to believe that you weren’t. Cobbling together these little robotic critters, building a world for them to inhabit...add a God complex to your list of glaring personality flaws, by the way.”
I asked if she had a pen and paper handy. She ejected an exasperated sigh and stormed off. After rummaging through various drawers, I finally found a modest but usable pry bar. I then searched for Madeline, instead stumbling across Helper in my office. Must’ve made her way down here without either of us noticing? She’s quiet as a mouse when she wants to be.
Stay Tuned for Part 63!