As the various professionals and experts arrived to witness the awakening of the robot, each assembled module was tested for viability. An initial inspection had already allowed Frank and his late night companion to determine they held significantly more energy than what was in the bot’s existing source. Cheers arose as each battery proved powerful enough to be expected to reenergize the robot.
A debate sprung up among several of the people involved in electronics.
“I just thought of something.” The statement resounded as trepidation.
Several people turned to look at the speaker, a woman of some advanced years. She motioned to one of her colleagues, inviting a man involved in the study of ancient electronics technologies. He approached in order to listen closely. The woman standing next to the elderly electronics expert was her student, a young lady with a penetrating mind and the unusual ability to ferret out insights. Something she said had just triggered a memory in her teacher’s mind.
“It was common in many applications to require a jumper power source.” The teacher expanded on her thought. “In vehicles they would hook up a small energy source if they had to change the main one. If they didn’t, they could lose programming.”
Those surrounding the three listened intently.
The man pondered, and his eyes lit up.
“Indeed I should have thought of that. They used a little, square battery most often. It was the same kind they used in those fire alarms they had… smoke detectors.”
The younger woman chimed in, “Here, I have one here.”
She pulled an ancient, portable music device from her pocket and popped the cover off. The battery pulled out, it dangled from the wires that attached it to the mechanism.
“Great, but I’ve never seen anything to attach it to,” the older woman opined. “If we have no outlet, no pigtail, then we would have to splice it in, risking damage. I’m not even sure it would be necessary. If it was, there would be a way to attach it.”
Stepping forward, Occam voiced a knowledge he had never anticipated as having any importance.
“Pardon, good Masters.”
In the excitement of the moment he addressed them in the formal tongue.
“There is a small compartment, just such a dimension as this object which you possess. A small cover must be removed to access it.”
Occam moved to the stationary creature, placed his hand on it to turn the robot slightly, and placed his finger under and within the creature’s back, close to the metal spine.
“Here.”
Chapter 24
A sensation best described as warmth, but unrecognized as such by the metal creature, flooded in. Full awareness, so long absent from the artificial brain, created an almost physical jolt. The self, long dormant and unnecessary, damped to nothingness in an effort to hoard energy, invaded the consciousness reawakened.
The only visible effect of the power source replacement was the optics brightening. To the humans assembled this was a positive sign but unsatisfying. Still, there was a mental sigh of relief. The first reason was that all of the effort expended had some positive result, even though less than hoped for. The other reason was the hesitancy some of them felt in awakening a being from the past. They had no real knowledge of the creature’s purpose or intent, and imaginations had provided some anxiety. Now that the moment was here, some had even wondered if the event was a good idea.
Within the robot several things were happening. Diagnostics were a priority and could be performed without giving away the fact that the comprehending brain was now fully aware. Remembering its first awakening two hundred or so years ago, the robot pondered what that first event was like, that first beginning-of-everything…
Sentience came slowly, or so it seemed to the suddenly cognizant creature. The awakening of self-awareness happened much more quickly than in an organic being, but there was a period of infanthood before it realized it was a being. That was the first shock, to realize that it was a real thing, that it was a thing, indeed, separate from all other existence. That it was an individual.
The next experience to be learned and appreciated was that it could move. That the limbs that made up a body were meant to be used. Movement took several hours of experimentation. Balance was a difficult ability to learn. Even the concept of having a priority to be upright was one of the more strenuous and enlightening epiphanies that came.
Now the robot, newly awakened but evidencing no movement, remembered one of its compatriots that never grasped the ability to stand. The humans in charge had disassembled its brain, removing it from the body, and reinserted another. That brain worked as intended, and the malfunctioning brain disappeared, presumably discarded.
Once each of the robots learned to move, to walk, run, jump, climb, bend, carry, grasp, push, pull, turn… and watch… they were rewarded with knowledge. The reawakened bot remembered the sensation as though a great pressure was relieved in a vast emptiness, replaced with learning. Suddenly being self-aware had meaning.
Then came the gift of experience. The great gift. The precious gift that could not come from prior knowledge… came. Each of its brothers went into the world to perform tasks, and they stayed in communication, sometimes even inhabiting each others’ minds in exceptional circumstances. Sometimes it was not enough to communicate. Sometimes an event had to be experienced. The thirteen core robots, assembled after the initially successful First One, those designed with special abilities and rewarded with advanced bodies and capacities, would find a place to hesitate, and they would accumulate inside of the mind of the individual intelligence performing in immediate proximity to what they all witnessed.
The humans never found out that the bots had the capability to remove themselves from their own corporeal manifestation, that they could take their consciousness, their energy, their spirit even, outside of themselves and into another. The artificial intellects speculated on whether they should inform their makers but were never asked, so they remained silent.
The newly awakened robot from the seas off California sat silently in the chair the humans had placed it in. The creature took inventory of all things within its consciousness, body, mind, environment… and included a probe of those remaining separated in remote locations under the waves.
The effort was entirely one-sided. The consciousnesses beneath the waters of the world were intact but in hibernation just as the awakened one had been until reenergized. Perhaps there was enough stored energy to bring all of the minds together in the newly energized one, but there was no reason to do that as yet. The robot remembered the brother that malfunctioned and was discarded, never to become. It would be best to reach an understanding of what these humans wanted, these who had awakened him. Still, as it took nothing on the part of the receiving entities, it sent a message of renewed possibility to each.
All responded save one. Aides, Aidoneus, Ananius, Apollyon, Cerberus, Erebus, Kore, Loki, Minos, Orcus, Osiris, and Viper all returned a recognition of contact, but the one bot of highest concern did not. The robot, Abdiel, the focused One… the First… remained mute.
§
Studying the seated metal figure, the party of human observers waited, speaking in low whispers. Several minutes passed, almost a full hour. Expectations had been extinguished. As the robot optics brightened, the crowd had murmured in anticipation, awaiting some kind of movement, some auditory function to kick in, some kind of display of functionality, but they were disappointed. The bot remained seated, motionless, inert.
“What do you think? Is it awake?”
“Oh, great. This is all we need.”
“Maybe we could jump start it with a high energy charge.”
“Scrap metal, that’s all we’ve got. The thing isn’t going to work.”
“As many connections as there are, it could be anything.”
“I wonder if there are others? Maybe they’re in better shape.”
“Ha… I guess we have a new statue for the park.”
<
br /> “Is the jumper battery bad? I checked the charge. Maybe essential programming got lost.”
“Are we sure the new module is working?”
“Gol durn it, the stinkin’ thing needs a kick in the ass. There’s got to be a big hammer around here somewhere.”
“Should we sandpaper the connections?”
“Is there some kind of code to wake it up? If we knew its name, we could ask it to wake up.”
By this time the people in the room were largely ignoring the robot. None noticed right away that it turned its head slowly to the person inquiring of a name.
It spoke.
“Charon… Charon is my name.”
Everyone jumped as the deep, scratchy voice rumbled from the voice box of the metal creature. The sound was unmistakable and completely intelligible. The name was pronounced in the Greek manner with a silent “C” and the “H” taking precedence, but only two people in the room understood that or the implication.
Looking carefully at the metal beast, Pearl knew what the name referenced. She glanced across the room, taking in those surrounding her, reading their faces. When her eyes got to the side opposite her, she found Bluehawk’s eyes on hers. His eyes communicated without words. They were the only people in attendance that understood that the name, Charon, was from an ancient text. A very ancient text.
Charon was the name of the boatman, the boatman of the river Styx, the boat required to cross into Hell.
§
The release of winter, cold blasts of wind, drifts that submerged random acres, finally exposed the plains to the sun. Small shafts of green explored the warming air, not yet sure if spring was a false hope, ready to retreat. Water trickled into growing torrents, and the northern hemisphere began to wake to the growing season.
The people of Boulder, both locals and travelers from far-flung territories, woke with the advancing temperatures. The business of spring took hold.
The expedition formed in Roseburg set the imminent priority of getting home. The Renoites fell into step with them, and they soon set a tentative departure date. Though with still much to do, both in commerce and in readying equipment for the trail, the main concern was waiting out the mud. There was no reason to leave until roads were dry enough to negotiate.
An early spring wedding was enjoyed by all. The young girl, Cherry, finally wed her beau, the one long ago discovered sleeping in the grass with her. There was no evidence of a shotgun being present, but the rumor all enjoyed was that the groom was urged into matrimony by more than an interest for sexual satisfaction or even ardor. Still he looked committed and joyful. The bride beamed. Her parents were less enthused, stoic and solemn. Time would tell, and they were determined to protect their daughter.
The local agricultural population began the efforts of cultivation for a distant fall harvest. Calving season being over for the most part allowed them time to repair winter-damaged fencing, till the soil, and anticipate what would sell best in the coming markets. So, too, the urban dwellers made their efforts and decisions.
§
The meetings in Angus’ home continued, and Occam became an expected and valued participant. He and Angus, as well as Bluehawk and Frank, came to be an anticipated quartet about town. They would dine together often, sharing drinks afterward and picking up the check in rotation. Well, perhaps not evenly. Frank seemed to find Bluehawk’s obligation often his own. But there was camaraderie not to be broken by such minor things, and they enjoyed everything from banal conversation to heated debate without animosity.
When possible, Pearl was invited along. She frequently declined, feeling an increasing frailty growing in her aging bones. Occasionally she would attend meetings in her portly friend’s home, but often she would invite them to hers. As the school year wound down, she spent a lot of her time with the robot.
The continuing dialogue on the robot was a mainstay of much of the group’s focus. The creature had proven to be more fantastic than imagined and in some ways an enigma.
The elderly black woman had noticed one thing that concerned her greatly. The metal man seemed reticent, never divulging information unless asked. Voicing her apprehension, the rest concurred. They had noticed the behavior as well. With the artificial, they had to know what to ask, or information would not be forthcoming. In some ways this was frustrating, but Pearl saw it as perhaps more. That the being was inclined to withhold knowledge from them seemed… perhaps sinister. She wondered if the robot had a reason to be secretive.
For Charon’s part the inclination to be silent came naturally. In the beginning days with the creators, long before now, it had found little reason to inform humans. Men and women seemed inclined to be more focused on doing than learning, so there was little opportunity or reason to expand the biological human animals’ knowledge. Later, after much experience with humans countermanding logic as understood by the mechanicals, the metal beings had decided that keeping their mouths shut was the appropriate thing to do. The humans seemed fine with this and were happier. They always seemed better equipped to deal with a bot that did what it was told, following orders without comment. Silence was learned, and Charon was inclined to use that ability.
Each of those concerned in the revival of the artificial technology had an interest in investigating the robot. After the initial day of awakening in which the group sat en masse, asking questions, time was allotted to the college once a week for students to interact, a different professor participating each time. Nights with the creature were given in rotation, but after a few people became less interested and maybe even unnerved, Pearl became the one to benefit. She absorbed the time made available with the bot as others declined.
For his part Occam was thrilled. He brought the robot home to meet Olivia. They had taken to dining together in the evenings when Occam was not occupied, and Olivia was charmed by the metal man. She actually took one of its hands and led it to a seat, treating it as she would a child.
The first day Occam had the mechanical to himself, he took it to his forge, expecting to craft something simple and see if the robot could learn to do rudimentary metalwork. The artificial man stood patiently watching, and when instructed to repeat what Occam had shown it, the creature beat out an exact duplicate in less time than Occam had. The big Smith was shaken, his mind turning on what he had witnessed and what it might mean. Without further demonstration the Blacksmith instructed the robot to make another object, something intricate and demanding a knowledge of metal. The metal man shocked him, for the first time shaking out his second set of arms, hidden within the matrix of his usual, known ones. There was work to do, and the machine performed. Occam became the student.
§
Pregnancy wore Olivia like a good work glove on a craftsman’s hand. The condition suited her. Where some women gained weight until they lost themselves, where some spent mornings and even days in nauseated misery, Olivia took her first child’s occupancy of her body in stride. She had never been happier, and those in her presence basked in the glow she bestowed on them.
The local midwife compared knowledge with the women from the wagon train, learning from each other and building the confidence that is so valued in the act of bringing new life into the world. Well educated and experienced, she set up a schedule with Olivia for prenatal care and provided some instructional texts on what was to come. The young woman absorbed them eagerly.
Walking into town daily as a matter of course, Jody was happy to be part of the experience. She and Olivia found their new made wealth from selling the great bulls to be an interesting phenomenon. They now had money to invest in trade and became confidants in speculating on various investments.
For her part Olivia did her best to assuage Jody’s depression over what had occurred with Edge in the barn. She tried to put it in perspective for Jody, feeling that her friend was missing her true feelings and an opportunity, but sympathizing with Jody in her feelings about polygamy, even though she was herself ambivalent.
O
livia felt that Occam was the best thing that could have happened to her, and she was thrilled that he was interested in taking her to wife. She had known Muffy and grieved at her death, and she knew Occam’s other wives. She was sure that adjustments would be necessary and was ready to make them in order to be the man’s most junior wife. Every time the big man touched her, she felt a thrill, something she had never had with her… the one she avoided thinking about.
The wedding was planned after the midwife declared a due date. Confident in the woman’s expertise, the newly engaged couple planned for their nuptials to be validated a week prior to the wagons pulling out on the return trip. There was plenty of time for the baby to be born before, and they awaited the event with joy and confidence.
§
A late calf coming from a recalcitrant heifer focused Edge as he leaned on the fence watching. The beast was in the late stages and would soon present. Next to him, Occam took lessons as Edge described what was taking place, elaborating on the complications that could happen as well as the norms. The robot stood watching to one side.
A tug, light and tentative, on Occam’s sleeve brought his regard to a small, heavily breathing boy who was shy but diligently begging his attention.
The little one gasped out, “Come quick… Miss Olivia’s having the baby!”
What those words do to a man, a man with an interest in the woman giving birth, is universal… panic, and then a cold resolve to control the outcome. Placing on hold all the priorities already decided, Occam reevaluated each of them in an instant and threw many out. He had to be the one in control because a woman in the act of birth was not able to be. It was his responsibility.
“Edge, high you hence and find a horse! Fetch the midwife and bring her, quick… Wait, better you hitch the buggy. Better even… find one already in service and command it. This be more important than another’s tasks, so be not afraid to demand!”
Hell Follows After (Monster of the Apocalypse Saga) Page 23
