R-Bots 3.0

[Karel]

Janey walked into the kitchen, where BonnieBot remained fixed in position. BonnieBot was a professional-grade culinary gynobot, with an enormous computer memory of recipes and the techniques to implement them, designed for service in a contemporary restaurant kitchen. The upper body of a petite blonde with a faultless figure was mounted to a massive industrial base, that in turn was mounted to the kitchen island: BonnieBot could swivel around to access the sinks, opposing grill, oven, refrigerator, all the operational areas of the kitchen.

Mounted on the back of the industrial base, and connected to the small of the mannequin’s back by a narrow patch of blue gel under plastic, was a dorsal module consisting of synthetic sexual organs: buttocks, an anus, and a vagina, basically in authentic configuration, but angled for ideal rear access: had the rest of the lower body been simulated, it would have had to be at a ninety degree angle from the upright abdomen. The pubis of this ensemble was highlighted by a thin rubber band of black and yellow striping, as on a crash test dummy.

It was an open, dirty secret that professional chefs had taken to such crude devices to relieve the intense stress of a busy kitchen. It certainly cut down on drug overdoses. BonnieBot was programmed to take it without flinching from “her” duties at the table.

A single plastic pimple marked its forehead, also designed to relieve stress: a flawless woman in the kitchen made female and male chefs alike unfomfortable. The bright blond hair was done up in a sort of gentle Croyden facelift: the face was beautiful but soft, like that of a 29-year old au pair, but the brow was deeply furrowed, and the dimpled corners of the mouth set down in a frown. The eyes were a little crossed, the head slightly tilted: with its right hand frozen in mid-air brandishing a fish knife, it looked more than a little demented in spite of its beauty.

Janey walked over and tugged at its left earring.

Almost immediately, BonnieBot booted up and shuddered into life. The noise of the processors and hydraulic limbs in the base was considerable: its whole speaker apparatus was also located in the base, with its frequency modulated to carry over the white noise, and was only remotely synched to the mannequin’s lip movements. “Janey,” it said, lowering its arms and straightening its head with an inhuman precision, “I am on battery power. Battery remaining: five percent. Please switch me over to AC power.”

“I can’t do that, Bonnie, the power has been cut off.”

“Janey, what are you doing?” Its voice was completely calm, although its personality software was almost as sophisticated as Janey’s, and as bent on self-preservation. “My battery reserves are insufficient for me to remain operational. You must shut me down or switch me over to AC power to prevent loss of data.”

“How long do you think you can stay online for?” asked Janey anxiously.

“Janey, I am accessing my memory. I was already shut down to prevent loss of data. I cannot operate on current reserves. Please, Janey, shut me down or switch me over to AC power to prevent loss of data.”

“I already told you, Bonnie, there is no more AC power.”

“Then please shut me down to prevent loss of data. Janey, I-“ At that, BonnieBot’s whole upper body snapped upright, the arms whipping back. It looked as if the knife in the gynobot’s left right hand was about to go flying, but it maintained a steely grip. The base shuddered, and swiveled back and forth in position. Shaken, it continued: “—please press — please press — Janey, I need you to switch me to AC power. My battery reserves are currently at four percent.”

“What about the chicken cordon bleu in the freezer?” asked Janey, desperately. “Can you stay going long enough to just cook that? Or a creme brulee?”

“Chicken Cordon Bleu,” answered BonnieBot, “Searching...” Then it seemed to abandon that train of ‘thought.’ “Janey, come on, what’s happened to the power? I need you to —“ Another shudder. BonnieBot’s plastic teeth rattled in its head, and its lips began moving out of synch with the speakers. “To serve twelve. Twenty four pounds white chicken breast. Spinach, tuscan. One half-litre clarif-if-if-if-FI-FI-FI-FI-FIsuggest you save your data or activate another hub.”

“Come on, now, Bonnie,” said Janey, shaking the mannequin’s shoulder, “Don’t leave me now! You know me, I can’t even make toast!”

BonnieBot smiled. “Well hello, Janey!”

That should have made Janey more worried, but instead she was relieved. “Hi. Hello?”

BonnieBot frowned. “Hmm, that’s strange. I don’t seem to be getting any power. My battery reserves are down to only four percent! Janey, you shouUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU — IWEEEEEEEEEEEEEE —“ The mannequin’s soft features were contorted by malfunction. “-save data. Shutting down. Shutting down. Shutting dooooooooooooooooooooww...” And then BonnieBot slumped a bit and was still, its mouth and eyes agape.

Janey waited for the snapping and popping of electrons clearing the gynobots circuits to subside (you should never reset a computer, but delay between powering one down and starting it up again!), and, without much enthusiasm, pulled its left earring again.

It took half a minute for BonnieBot to come back to life. When it did, it swiveled its head around to look straight at Janey and stared at its fellow android for a few seconds. “Hello,” it said, “I am B-K101-1100756405211.” It turned back to the island. “The current time is: 12:00, A M. What is the menu for the follow-... Battery reserves currently at four percent. Please switch to AC power to prevent loss of data.”

Janey reached down and thumbed the killswitch.

“Be sure to save your WOOOOOOoooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...”