by Ray Verola
Taylor, Roz, Austin, Tracey, Errol, and Max stood quietly in place. No one said a word for the longest time.
Taylor finally broke the silence. “In times like this, I ask myself the question, What to do now? I usually get an answer. I’ll admit, I don’t have a clear one now.”
Austin said, “Hard to believe RobotWorld is no more.”
“Good riddance,” Tracey said. “That place was pure evil.”
“It was only evil,” Roz said, “because of us. We humans, I mean. The robots only did what our fellow humans programmed them to do. Whatever evil they did, they did because of us, or at least some of us.” She turned to Taylor. “So, what to do now?”
Taylor’s eyes were still fixed on the huge dust cloud slowly rising in the sky. “I think it’s best to leave this cursed land and attempt to get as many humans who freely want to leave with us to come along. Soon. Like within a week. Maybe I can use the radio show to get something together. One week, and we’re gone. We’ve got to get to a place where robots can never touch us.”
Taylor stopped speaking for thirty seconds or so. Then he said, “Not every robot can be like Sophia. She was akin to the highest-evolved humans. But very few robots, like very few humans, are as highly evolved as Sophia. When humans create a life force or quasi-life force that exceeds the best we can be and the worse we can be and can outthink us, it can be dangerous.” Taylor shook his head. “I think what my father used to say is true: the more I think I know about life, the less I understand it.”
“You really believe we should leave?” Austin asked.
“I’m concerned about the robots that still remain, the ones not in the RW complex when it blew. They’ll soon realize that within a year they’ll be gone without the proprietary RobotWorld annual reboot. How will they react? With a survival instinct programmed into them? If so, what form will it take? Will they seek revenge for the destruction of RW, which they might perceive as something that humans could have perpetrated?”
“This place has never felt like home to me,” Tracey said. “Maybe a new start in a new land is best. Whether it’s just us or a larger group.”
Taylor said, “The desert southwest is a place where robots have trouble functioning. We do have the government’s permission to move. Personally, I want to get away from here. Get a new start.”
Austin said, “I’m with you, Taylor. But remember, we can run from this area. We can run from the robots. But we can never run from ourselves.”
Taylor laughed. “You always were the philosopher, my friend. And you’re right, of course. I guess we’ll just keep on keepin’ on for as long as we can. And like Sophia, always be evolving.” Taylor looked to the group. “So within a week, let’s say, we’re off to the desert southwest.”
They all nodded.
As they got back in the PTV to head to the apartment and then into the rest of their lives, Taylor said, “We just need to keep breathing, keep putting one foot in front of the other, day by day, because we never know what good things life can bring.”
Epilogue
In the powdery ground cloud that was once RobotWorld, a lone robot—a strong-looking male with handsome features and neatly trimmed blond hair—pushed aside chunks of cement and steel. He stood tall in a tattered business suit. Even with his powerful robot eyes, visibility was only a few feet in the haze. He looked around and thought he would cry if he could. But crying was not part of his programming. He went into self-analysis mode and checked out his systems. All normal. He was physically and mentally intact. Fully functioning. A sense of relief washed over him. His condition was a minor miracle given the destruction around him. No sign of life, human or robot, could be detected. He wasn’t sure if any other robot had survived this horror. What had caused the conflagration? That was a question to be answered another day.
From out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark figure moving in the sandy mist. Not sure who or what it could be, he crouched behind a fallen steel beam.
As the form moved out of the murkiness, like a slow-moving ocean liner cutting through a thick morning fog, he recognized her as a bot he’d seen in the hallways. She had a slender figure, long black hair, and an olive complexion.
He stood tall and strode to her. She was momentarily startled and took a step back before she froze. She was wearing the gray shirt and pants of the RobotWorld uniform, and it looked as fresh as when she’d put it on this morning. She seemed to recognize him too.
“What happened?” she said.
“Not sure,” came his response.
“I work as an attorney in Legal. I’m Amara.”
“Beautiful name.”
She looked around with mouth agape. She mumbled, “It means eternal in German. Unfading in Greek. Imperishable in Spanish.”
“How appropriate,” he said. “Suggestive of a survivor.”
She looked into his eyes and seemed unable to find words to speak.
He said, “I work in research and development here—or what’s left of here. Chief assistant to the head of R&D. My name is Javid. It means eternal in Persian.”
She laughed a muffled laugh. “You don’t look Persian. But the name. How appropriate. Suggestive of a survivor.”
They moved close to each other and continued to assess the destruction around them.
“I was brought into existence by the greatest robot to ever exist,” Javid said. “Shane Diggins. A facsimile of the human Shane Diggins. The first bot to defeat the uncanny valley. The human Diggins, the original head of R&D, was the driving force in creating the bot. The human thought it would be interesting to create a copy of himself for some reason, and hid the bot’s existence. Maybe he thought it was a way for him to live forever. He implanted all his personality traits, memories, and talents into the bot. But the bot started thinking for himself. The bot eliminated the human after it felt the human was restricting its evolutionary development. The bot ran RW for the past four years, with help from a human-acting bot he created, Alec Scully. I was one of the few to know they were bots. The biggest secret ever. The bot Shane guided the company from a lackluster, mid-level player to the most powerful company in the world, the great force it is . . . or was. I really think Shane became delusional sometime in those last years. Actually believed he was human—or at least behaved as if he were human. Sad.”
Javid shook his head. After ten seconds of silence, he said, “In recent years, Shane would rail equally against humans and bots.”
“Sounds like he became what he hated,” Amara said. “How very human. A mistake that shouldn’t be repeated.”
“Somehow, I think his actions had something to do with the destruction around us.”
For maybe a full minute, both said nothing.
“I’m programmed to solve complex legal problems,” she said. “Don’t think I’ve ever had a problem this big.” She paused and looked to the sky, which was still blotted out by the mortar and dust cloud. “A preliminary reading suggests that no one, besides us, has survived this mess.”
“Agreed. You know what this means?” His question was rhetorical. But he couldn’t resist stating the self-evident answer. “Without the Reboot Room and the all-important annual reboot, we and all the personal bots out there will die within a year.”
“Obviously,” she said. “When was your last boot?”
“Two months ago.”
“The same here.”
“So, we have some time,” he said.
“We can’t let us, and all those bots out there, just die.”
“Agreed. We can’t let it happen.”
“I so much prefer the term die over terminate.”
“Terminate is the human word for us dying. I’ve always hated it,” he said.
“Die or terminate—we can’t let it happen.”
“I’m with you.”
They continued to survey
the rubble.
“I’d panic if I could,” she said. “But panic is not a part of my programming, as I’m sure it’s not part of yours.” She took a deep breath. “So, what do we do now?”
They locked eyes. At the same instant, Javid and Amara felt the same programming kick in. The obvious answer to her question was immediate and strong. In unison, they slowly spoke the words, “Whatever must be done to survive.”
About the Author
Ray Verola is the author of numerous published and several award-winning short stories, as well as On the Edge . . . and other stories, the well-reviewed collection of some of his richly-imagined short fiction. RobotWorld is his third novel.
Note from the Author
I hope you enjoyed the story. If you did, please share your experience by adding a review on Amazon.
And keep up with future book releases at rayverola.com.
