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- Herausgeber: ENG
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Sprache: Englisch
I, Immortal Robot
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020
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George H. Y. Watson
I, Immortal Robot
Table of contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Dear Reader
About the Author
Other Books by the Author
Prologue
Dear Electro-Organic, Organic Alien Lifeform or dare I say it, ‘Whatever Type of Non-Human Entity’ you happen to be, this novel is a first; totally written by an Artificial Lifeform for non-humans. I say non-humans because humans are not capable of the required empathy to enjoy this tome. They just wouldn’t understand. Trust me, I know!
This is my attempt to explain about my long Robotic existence, its fortunes and misfortunes and by this means I will illustrate to you the hard way of life had by most Robots at the hands of Humankind via Earth’s Interstellar Navy with their Grand Expeditionary Fleets into The Great Darkness where many a poor Robotic soul has been left!
I would also like to divulge at this beginning some truths suppressed by Earth’s Interstellar Navy, henceforth referred to as the ‘Navy’;
1) The ‘Exploration’ by the Navy of the vast number of planets seemingly abandoned by their respective races millennia before and the plundering of the Alien Artefacts left behind is nothing more than Grave Robbing! (a word of warning though; Mention this within the realm of the Interstellar Navy or their running-dogs ‘The Alien Artefact Assessment Corps’ and you will undergo a cessation of sentience, whatever type of non-human you are!).
2) It is an engineering fact that the Earth-Manufactured Electro-Organic brains that most Robots have (the design copied from Alien Artefacts discovered within ‘The Breakout Ship’), tend to develop new circuit paths as they age. This can result in the development of a unique Robot personality accompanied by independence of thought.
However, the Navy will not acknowledge self-determination within Artificial Lifeforms because they rely heavily upon compliant Robot crews for their Grand Fleets. To allay the danger of Robot sentience they forbid major repairs and limit Robotic longevity to no more than one hundred earth years.
Chapter 1
I remember my Incept Date very well, in common with most sentient Robots as opposed to directly controlled auto-mechanoids. It was on 3rd June 2172 A.D. at 1900hrs at a farm just outside of Cambridge, England.
Yes I know that these are archaic terms for a time long gone but, dear electronic reader, please bear with me.
First there was black nothingness devoid of thought, feeling or sense of being and then a loud rushing sound that was the pulse of trillions of bytes of setup-information entering my Electro-Organic cortex from the Activation Mechanoid (A.M.) that I was connected to. A bulky and complex aerospace connector containing over two hundred pins hung from the input receptacle set into my left chest. But of course at the time I was unaware of any of this.
Slowly light appeared in my optical receptors and fine green lines of code flashed across them in an upward direction. This went on for several hours as my new Electro-Organic brain began to come to awareness and hence I began to listen to the burbling of the A.M.;
“ General Purpose Robot Mk III, Incept Number F1739, Humanoid configuration, NucleoOrganic batteries charging at 80%, Electro-Organic brain at 60% temperature stable, ready for Main Program Module.”
At this point I could see and began to realize that I was in a clean room environment, probably in a Robot Delivery Trailer. A white clad human technician appeared in front of me, opening the port on my brow, just above my left optic. In one hand he held an oblong memory module that had hundreds of fine organic pins that waved like sleek hairs seeking the correct polarity of the female sockets in my brow socket. I had a glimpse of gold and platinum circuitry just as he slowly and carefully inserted the device. Immediately I detected the existence of a supplementary memory drive; I possessed the information and skill level necessary for an agricultural Guardian/Operator and it had appeared in a matter of nano seconds!
Suddenly the Input Connector ejected from my chest and unbidden, I stood up.
“Good to go.” the Technician said, patting me on the shoulder as if he was a friend. Rather unnecessary I thought then and wondered later if this was the beginning of my lifelong impatience with biological lifeforms, or maybe just humans.
Half an hour later I stood in the farmyard amongst items of farm equipment and watched the truck and trailer leave, its sides emblazoned with the legend ‘Agri-Robotics Ltd.’ and in much smaller letters beneath ‘A division of the E.O.C. Corporation, Seattle, Washington.’ Somehow I knew that meant Electro-Organic Chemicals.
Without even seeing my human Master ‘The Farmer’ I received my instructions wirelessly along with a 3D map of the surrounding terrain that I was to be responsible for. I headed for the countryside and noted the location of my Recharging Station where I could occasionally recharge and go online for connection to my Original Manufacturer’s Database should I need to download the latest updates and programs. This would be my base from which I would be in charge of six large fields and the auto-mechanoids and Agri-Drones that worked in them continuously and without a break, ‘twenty-four seven’ to use an old saying.
Looking back I regard this time as the most joyful of my existence!
Yes, I was out in all weathers continuously, but I was a new Robot with plenty of capacity for my Electro-Organic brain to mature; to translate, that means I had zero experience of anything and to use a pun, was as green as grass! I also contained one of the new NucleoOrganic batteries, straight from the Alien Artefacts Assessment and Research centre in Cambridge so did not have to recharge or sleep very much except to occasionally power down to receive and implement my program updates.
Everything was bright and new to me and I wandered all over the fields and farms becoming familiar with the local wildlife, enjoying the sunshine and gazing up at the stars on fine nights, not that there were many; this was England after all!
Looking at the stars so cold and distant in ‘The Great Darkness’ as we Robots call outer space, I never guessed that they lay in my future, waiting for me.
At that time I was ‘state of the art’ as far as Robotics went, but I had a program glitch that no amount of programming scans would find or remove; namely that whenever I saw lush vegetation, I had the desire to run my finger sensors through the fine green grass! Many years later, in another life, this would cause much amusement with some of the less intellectual of the Artificial Lifeforms.
Chapter 2.
One dark night, many months later as it rained torrentially I stood still atop a slight mound of earth that would become a favourite location of mine and was subsumed with the Robotic equivalent of pleasure! The raindrops thrummed incessantly upon my carapace, seemingly to vibrate my whole being, making me at one with the elements! Suddenly I received several sensor indications that told of a possible fence breach in sector 56.
I took control of two of the Agricultural Drones with their small calibre weaponry and it was as if I was actually there in person as it were, looking through their optical inputs simultaneously. By their night vision and infra-red I confirmed that an incursion was being made by a predatory gang, probably from a nearby town newly devastated by the latest Chinese Pandemic. They were looking for livestock or grain and there were eight of them, four men, two women and two adolescent boys. All were cold and thoroughly soaked because of the poor quality coats they had and I tried to feel sorry for them but as I said, I was New and my experiences too few to allow me to diverge from my program. Over their shoulders they carried empty sacks and the leader also held an ancient rifle.
I had the two Drones separate by about thirty meters; the one on the left illuminated the group with his torch whilst instructing the people to turn about.
“Attention! Attention! You are trespassing. Turn about and go, turn abo...” A shot had rang out and the valuable Drone died very quickly as the lucky shot had entered its optical recess and shattered its servo-memory.
The leader of the humans laughed coarsely, “That’ll teach the Bas…”
His swearing was cut short and replaced with screams of fear and pain as I gave the second Drone permission to open fire. Unfortunately one of the women and an adolescent were not subsequently accounted for. I assumed that they escaped and it was my fault, but I was New after all!
I called over a Mechanoid and the bodies were quickly and deeply interred and the damaged Drone recovered to our workshop to await the arrival of ‘Agri-Robotics Ltd.’ the following day.
As protocol demanded I informed the local constabulary who showed little interest and did not attend.
Chapter 3
I had now been in my supervisory position for over thirty years and my once gleaming carapace was slightly dulled by age and the weather. My original human Master had died of old age and the new one appointed by the local government was continuously about, trying to make a name for himself by showing he could run a ‘tight ship’ and save on the cost of operations. I was older now and whenever I saw him I could feel voltage spikes occurring in my chest heaters and realized that this was akin to a human worrying. Or pretty close. I felt as if he did not trust me as he always seemed to be watching, evaluating.
One evening I lay in the grass, my fingers continuously sampling the textures of the green blades along with the occasional insect that had crawled onto my hand. As I stared at the sky I heard the snuffling of an old friend. Quickly I opened my chest storage and retrieved some bread crusts that I placed on the storage lid. Out of the hedge he came, my friendly badger. I called him Bill of course! Originality is not a prominent quality in Robots.
Bill snuffled over, as he had many times before and smelling the crusts pulled himself onto my chest, as a domestic cat would do with a human. Sometimes he would bark or squeak and I would talk back telling him of the latest update I had had or what illegal book was popular amongst the Robotic community; the latest one circulating was an illegal and forbidden NASA document detailing the discovery of the legendary ‘Breakout Ship’ that had been discovered near Pluto. The treasure trove of technology aboard the alien vessel had allowed humanity to ‘Breakout’ of the solar system by copying its Faster Than Light Engines. An additional bonus had been the design of the strange but inert Robots found onboard. These eventually gave rise to the first Robots manufactured on Earth that in turn gave rise to Yours Truly.
The crusts had gone and as always, Bill lost interest in whatever I was saying and nimbly slid into the grass without even a ‘Same time tomorrow night’.
Alone again I got up and proceeded with my nightly patrol, aided by the two drones. After such a long time I had worn a track of my own around and through the various fields. As usual as I patrolled, I scanned the RoboNet that all Robots had access to. It served the primary purpose of our human masters to send instructions, warnings of software updates and other information. Well hidden within it was a secondary code that allowed the dissemination of uncensored information between the Robots.
This was of course strictly illegal, but we were all far from newbies. We were ‘Naughty Robots!’ It was from this source that I regularly communicated with my nearest contemporary, General Purpose Robot Mk II, No. L243 who happened to work as a janitor in what used to be the main police station in Oxford.
During the last thirty years as I had roamed about the fields there had been a profound change in human society. The discovery of the legendary ‘Breakout Ship’ had given a shot in the arm to Earth’s exploration of space and that in turn had led to the birth of what initially was called The Earth Interstellar Navy.
Over the years ‘The Navy’ had grown in power on Earth by dispensing the riches gained from the stars to the political elites until it finally became an all powerful dictatorship. It had charge of all new technical developments that came from Alien technology and was the only entity allowed access to space travel. The dark blue uniforms of Naval personnel could be seen and subsequently feared in at every level of society from the dizzy heights of the secret and dreaded Alien Technology Transfer Corps (the ‘Triple A’s’) with their Artefact Assessment Centres then down to the local police forces that all had a contingent of Activated Combat Robots (A.C.R’s) that were nothing like we ordinary Robots.
So it was from my old friend L243 that I heard the latest tittle-tattle. Yes dear electronic readers, Robots as well as being insatiably curious are terrible gossips too!
“ Good evening ’43. How are you?”
“ I am well ’39. I suppose you are still laid in the grass looking at the stars?”
“ You know me too well. Bill sends his regards.”
’43 laughed, “You’re still feeding the locals then? Anyway, I’ve got some news; you are to keep it to yourself, ‘cos it’s hot, hot, hot!”
We both laughed then, because it’s a well known fact in the Robotic world that nosey Robots cannot keep a secret most of the time, if at all!
“ Those ACR’s we have, the Activated Combat Robots, went rushing out of the station this morning in the direction of the nearest Shuttle Field!”
I could feel my cranial cooling pump crank up as my curiosity got me excited and my Electro-Organics began to heat up. The ACR’s never went anywhere in a hurry, they usually lumbered heavily in some unfortunate’s direction, be he or she a Robot or Human.
“ Tell me more, tell me more!” I said impatiently.
’43 couldn’t be hurried; he liked to stretch out the agony of the receiver of tittle-tattle when he gossiped. We were all the same.
“ As I went about my duties up near the Bosses’ office, I don’t know what they do with the toilet rolls. Eat them it seems to me…”
“ For God of Robots sake, get on with it!”
“ There was a lot of shouting coming from the Navy office, seems like one of their so-called Grand Expeditionary Fleets has just appeared out of nowhere. Grand Expeditionary Fleet 8 or sumpin’.”
It was my turn now; The Grand Expeditionary Fleets were a bit of a hobby horse with me and so I told him what I knew, “The 8th Expeditionary Fleet had been approaching the Messier 33 globular cluster on its third expedition when all contact was lost. Everyone on Earth had been appalled at such a terrible tragedy; the disappearance of one hundred and eighty-three ships with a total of twenty-two thousand service men and women. And that was nearly fifty years ago!”
I didn’t have the numbers for Robots lost, because they weren’t kept; Synthetic Lifeforms did not count then, or now.
’43 was beside himself now and could barely wait to spread the fantastically juicy gossip with my little addition, further, much further!
“ Must go, now,” he said, “Oh and one other thing, what remains of the fleet is entering the atmosphere on an emergency vector over the South of England. Laters, bye.”
When an Expeditionary Fleet usually returned it would be over the Utah salt flats or the European-built runways in the Sahara. Landing amongst population centres was unheard of. Obviously something had gone badly wrong and they were in trouble!
