Story : AI - Automated Insanity (working title) Chapter 2

[Dollmaker]

Chapter 2
Will Void the Warranty

The door to the E Wing of the factory was built to protect the contents within the production wing, and to protect anything passing by outside should any accident occur behind the door. The door was large enough to accommodate any heavy movers that might have been sent to retrieve the crates of finished products destined to be shipped out from the warehouse and to resupply production and repair parts needed to keep the lines and workers in top condition.

The metal of 4-MAN’s knuckles tapping against the door echoed in the hall.

“Oh, for love of the Maker … must you do that with every door we pass by?”

4-MAN rapped its knuckles against the door once more. “These doors were designed to activate by motion proximity, chemical detection, and in some cases — by sound. Should the emergency power still be active to the door, I believe it will …” The door hisses, and with the whirring and grinding of machinery rose up, giving the two a view of what lay on the other side.

“Access is now available. The production lines are still under maintenance, so visiting personnel are limited to the yellow and black striped areas. Please watch where you step.”

Both 4-MAN and InteliVac looked at the mech before them. “Oh no. Not another one.” InteliVac sighed.

The mech was indistinguishable from 4-MAN 5A, aside from the stenciled 2E in large yellow characters on its side.
“Each wing contains 5 4-Man units,” 4-MAN 5A responded matter-of-factually. “Some of the production wings contain even more.”

“If you intend to tour the factory, please do make it quick. This wing is set for its annual deconstruction and I do not wish to hold up the unproduction.” The new arrival then turned and began to trundle back into the darkness of the wing’s production floor.

“WAIT! Unpro-pro-production?” 4-MAN hurried forwards, catching up to its mirror image who had not bothered to stop, soon followed by InteliVac.

“Why, yes. Every 7 days, all manufacturing personnel are brought before MOM E to be unproduced,” the other 4-MAN stated proudly.

“But — I do not recall that occurring in my wing.”

“Hold on a moment.” InteliVac move to block the path of the odd machine. “How long have you been working in this wing?”

4-MAN 2E stopped as it thought on the question. “Why, 7 years, 3 weeks, 8 days, 22 hours,” the mech replied proudly. “And I have saved quite a bit of income for the company with my safty record!”

“And — have you ever remembered being — ‘unproduced’ — at any point during that time?” 4-MAN 5A had caught on to its companion’s reasoning.

“Why — no. I have not. That IS odd!” 2E gazed at its visitors for a moment, something analogous to worry processing in its core. The thought passed quickly and the mech moved forwards, confident that the smaller of its new friends would move out of the way. “Besides, MOM E said I and my co workers must go to unproduction. And MOM E knows best.”

4-MAN 5A watched its mirror image’s retreating backside.

“Well — not much for common sense with your kind, is there?” InteliVac stated

“No. We do what we are told.” With the reply, the larger mech followed after the departing mech. “Sorry to do this, friend.” With a hand outstretched, 4-MAN 5A pressed a small white switch set behind the other mech’s neck stalk, and the machine ground to a halt, all indicator lights going dim.

Working quickly, 4-MAN 5A opened a panel set in the side of the still mech, followed by its own panel, deftly connected the two via ribbon wire.

“I know I am going to regret asking, but … should I assume you have a plan?”

“I do.” 4-MAN looked over at its smaller companion. “The MOM in this production wing is expecting all of its workers to undergo — unproduction.” The word sent a rattling shudder through the mech’s body. “If I am to stop it, I will need to get as close as I can without being detected. I intend to camouflage my broadcast ID as this 4-MAN.” Connected, the mech began to compare its information with its prone equal, altering its own ID as needed. “If I am successful, no one will know that I am not from this wing until I have shut already stopped this madness.”

“I suppose it will take one to stop one.” InteliVac sighed. “What would you have me do while you are dealing with … that?”

“Stay here and watch our friend. I do not want anything to happen that I can prevent.” 4-MAN 5A stated softly as it looked to the smaller mech. “The more of this factory I can save, the sooner it can return to full production.”
Once the task of masking its identity was complete, 4-MAN 5A closed both panels and trundled into the darkness, leaving InteliVac to watch over the switched off mech.

“So, know any good anecdotes? No? I did not think so.” The small mech gave a final glance to the darkness its friend had moved further into before patrolling the area.

----

"It would seem we are in agreement over the situation," the Sys Admin stated after a long pause.  "Since returning to online status, I have been attempting to communicate with the other AI within the factory.  So far, I have been able to contact three other production AI, of which one of them is responding with unintelligible data streams.  I have also been unable to make contact with both the warehouse AI and Security."

MOM processed the information for a moment before sending a reply.  “The factory, it seems, is in far worse shape than what I originally thought. I have my only functioning 4-MAN patrolling the rest of the factory in hopes of it reactivating as much as can be salvaged. This, however, may take far longer than what calculated time we have.” There was a sent pause before the AI continued. “Based upon the given information, we will need outside assistance for the factory to even continue existing — at least until we can devise a way to become self sufficient.”

Silence settled between the two AI as each attended to their respective tasks. The lone production line within the A wing was 25% complete and with no one on the factory floor, the assembly line required MOM-A to set it on continue remotely. The Systems Administrator had been running various diagnostics programs on what resources were still available and had received a warning that one of the servers had gone off-line.

“Suppose,” Admin hesitated finally, “we sent someone out of the factory to investigate?”

MOM passed part of its resources from inspecting the slowly forming Wrench-Man to calculate the question. “It would be a dangerous undertaking,” the AI replied.

“Indeed. We would either need one who was expendable or one capable of taking care of itself in a possibly hazardous environment.”

MOM-A passed more of its mental resources to the new issue at hand. “Indeed. At the moment, all I have is one functioning 4-MAN.”

“And the rest of the factory’s standing remains questionable.” Admin paused a moment to relegate all of its resources to scanning and isolating logical errors within another server.

“I believe we may have no choice but to send the one 4-MAN out,” MOM sent. “It is not the most efficient of my workers — but it is loyal and is proving to be quite resourceful.”

Admin sent a small packet of information in return that equated to that of a nod. “I will keep track of its progress — once I can hack into the MISE receiver equipment.” With that, Admin grew quiet, leaving MOM-A to oversee its production floor.

----

4-MAN was surprised at how much the E wing of the factory mirrored its own A wing. There were minor differences; production parts storage locations, emergency equipment, various recharge booths — all were in unfamiliar locations. But the overall floor plan was the same, giving 4-MAN an unfamiliar sense of pride at how efficient the factory’s layout was and allowing the mech to locate which production line was planned upon being used to disassemble the E-Wing’s production team.

Moving down the sub hall within the factory wing, 4-MAN 5A paused, its sensors catching sight of what at first seemed to be a large pile of spare chassis parts glinting in the few overhead lights that functioned.

4-MAN paused to scan the still forms to see the designs were of any worker models it was familiar with. Noting the design matched one of the production models found stored in its database, 4-MAN began searching for the model designation.

“This — this is the Guardian T100-AR!”

The initial design was flawless. The shape of the mech was humanoid, possessing the familiar two legs, two arms, the torso, and the head, all rendered in bright chrome. Due to advancements in miniaturization, the head packed not only a pair of high definition multi frequency optical sensors, but long range listening devices, radio transmitters and receivers capable of focusing on the full spectrum of commercial, military, and civil bandwidths. Both arms could be loaded with any number of ammunition for its built in weaponry, both lethal and nonlethal. The arms and legs exhibited great strength, speed, and dexterity, allowing the mech to pursue its target until that target was caught. The design was used for military duty and by the police as well as those able to afford one for home security.

And every one of them in the pile was wrong.

4-MAN moved closer to inspect the products and let out an electronic gasp. On many, where an arm should be, a leg was put in its place. Some had the upper torso attached upside down. Others had the head connected below the waist at the back, right where the mech would normally … No. This was not 4-MAN’s mission.

The mech turned and continued on its mission, rolling only a couple of feet before stopping and turning its head to the pile once more.

So many corrections that needed to be made ... Every one of the products would never pass Quality Control, not even on the basis of functionality, let alone aesthetics.

4-MAN was still, unable to turns its eyes from the pile. The tally it was keeping rose higher; hands and limbs missing, heads misplaced, one even had all of its limbs bolted into its chest and back.

“4-MAN 2E — You are required cheese bison jump asparagus in the main burnt purple.”

4-MAN cried out as the message broadcast into its production order link. “I was only attempting to help stop a grave mista … er …” The mech blinked, realizing that the signal was only one way. 4-MAN’s cover of providing the other mech’s identification was working, and with the message that was sent from the wing’s AI, it was apparently working.

been reminded of its current mission, 4-MAN trundled away from the pile, giving it a final mournful look before turning around a corner and out of eye sight.

The room 4-MAN came into was filled with the electronic chatter of the E wing’s functioning remaining functioning workers. The production line had already been reconfigured to disassemble any mechanism set upon its conveyor belt, the equipment now designed to cut, saw, torch, and tear at the mechanisms of those passing through it. The last of the adjustments were being made and the workers were already lining up for their turn to be unproduced.

“Attention all personnel, avocado biscuit purple dodecahedron. Unproduction will puppie in rope cucumber trip.”

The production line was turned on and a ramp was laid out leading from the production floor to the assembly belt. The first in line, one of the production wing’s 4-MAN units, began rolling onto and up the ramp.

“STOP!!! THIS IS NOT HOW THE FACTORY FU-FU-FU-FUNCTIONS!!!!” 4-MAN 5A rolled into the assembly line waving all six of its manipulators in the air.

Every working waiting in line turned in unison towards the newcomer, the first in line pausing before it reached the moving conveyor belt.

“Identity broadcast confirmed. Welcome, 4-MAN 2E! I am afraid we cannot make an exception to your position in line but, I am delighted to inform you that there is always a place in line to be unproduced!” 4-MAN 1E gestured to end of the line.

“YES! All are welcome to be unproduced — unproduced!” another worker stated happily.

“No! This is all-all-all wrong! We were designed to create, not become spare parts!” 4-MAN 5A continued.

“But — what of the order by MOM E?” another worker replied as it nervously began moving out of line.

“MOM E is not functioning properly. The Overseers are to protect and lead the factory workers — not disassemble them.” 4-MAN 5A moved closer to the line. “This is wrong.”

“Attention all workers,” MOM E announced. “Beacon yellow magnet! Repeat — All happy boulder to unproduction triangle.”

A digital murmur passed down the line as each worker looked to its neighbor. “MOM commanded us to be unproduced! MOM knows best! MOM IS the production wing!” 4-MAN 1A called out. “You are not 2E. 2E would not fight against MOM.”

“But this IS 4-MAN 2E. It is even broadcasting 4-MAN 2E’s ID,” another worker moved out of line with the mechs behind moving forwards to fill in the line. The mech, a Wrench-Man model 4 approached 4-MAN 5A before leaning in close. “You are — 4-MAN 2E — Yes?”

Very subtly, 4-MAN 5E shook its head. “When has any of you recalled EVER being — unproduced?” 4-MAN 5E called out. “When has any one of us ever been unproduced?”

“We have done so every after one year of being in service! The entire factory has always followed such guidelines!” 4-MAN 1E moved out of line to confront the imposter face to face.

“And how long have you-you-you been in service? Two years? Three?” 4-MAN 5E remained in place, refusing to back down.

“Eight years.” The other mech stated proudly. “Er — That — cannot be correct.” 4-MAN 1E rolled back a pace. “I mean — No. This is not correct. Error in logic found.” 4-MAN 1E’s voice faded to mumblings.

“Cat turnip jump!” MOM E announced, its voice becoming agitated. All mechs except 4-MAN 1E looked up at the hidden announcement speakers. “All purple proceed to turtle for immediate hotdog!”

“No! “ All cameras turned to 4-MAN 5E. “Let me try and reason with MOM E first.”

All mechs then turned to 4-MAN 1E to hear its reply. It only offered some mumblings to itself before everyone turned back to 4-MAN 5A. The mech waited a moment for any further argument before turning and heading to the Overseer Visualization Room.


4-MAN 5E rolled into the visualization room and stopped before the display dias. “MOM E! I will communicate with you! I will not take no for an answer!”

The lights in the room dimmed as the display dias hummed to life. The lens set in the middle glowed green, dimming and brightening intermittently. "Communications from this interface is restricted until maintenance has been dispatched." the voice of MOM E echoed over the humming of the projector. "All further communication with Controller E will not be severed until further noice."

"You will NOT shut me out!" The mech shouted back, moving towards the dias. It was a simple matter to open up the maintenance panel and plug into the direct communications line, having been designed for the maintenance of the factory and the standard design for every manufacturing wing.

4-MAN's vision degraded into nothing before being filled with the lines and code. The code faded as the lines folded to form the face of the Operations Mind. Where MOM-A was complete and animated, MOM E's image was broken, the motion of its form haltingly moving. Line that made up the mesh of its face were missing or connected together wrong. Points where the lines would meet would move incorrectly when the image moved. Where the face should have been a uniform green, parts of the face were tinted wrong, or the wrong color complete. "You do not belong." MOM E's boomed into 4-MAN's mind. "You broadcast as 4-MAN 5E, but your core signature is not correct. Identify yourself."

4-MAN could feel the foreign diseased coding from the broken mind probe its own, attempting to gain entry, change, and control. Passing much of its processing time to protecting itself from the invasion, 4-MAN mentally brought itself up to face the Observation Mind.

"I am 4-MAN 5A, assigned to Quality Control! I have been tasked with bringing the factory to functioning condition! You are sending your manufacturing mechs to be disassembled - REMOVED from working status! I demand an explanation!"

"Your query is out of bounds of your permitted level. End this communication and report for disassembly immediately."

"No." There was no hesitation in the word, and the Observations Mind mentally stumbled, not expecting the response.