)*Prologue — And Now a Word from Our Sponsor
A scene opens up to a blue background. With a loud fanfare of horns and drums, the word NEW! Emblazoned yellow on a red oval with explosive spikes spreading from it hurtles forwards to plaster itself on the screen.
“Now ... from the great makers of Wrench-Man and Toby, the Wonder Kitten! The great thinkers from Technetic Robotics bring YOU the wonder of — PRECIOUSâ„¢! We, here at Technetic Robotics, have spared no expense on our new line of household servants!” The voice is enthusiastic, exited by a new product the faceless voice has the chance to hock to those viewing the scene.
The logo vanishes, to be replaced with a full-body view of what could almost be called a human female. The illusion is broken by what has been chosen to represent her ‘clothing’. All of the same smooth blue reflective material, the figure wears a simple rounded helmet with oval shaped protrusions where the ears would be, and the top tapering into a single fin that runs from the front rim all of the way to the back. Her upper chest is covered by a single piece of the armor, the feminine shape suggested by the blocked angles the protrude forwards, giving a series of 12 buttons arranged in a 3 by 4 grid and a small disk slot underneath a place to be set. Her wrists are hidden behind bands, with her hands visibly segmented and jointed and made of the same material. Her hips are covered as well to suggest modesty, showing enough of her upper thighs to possibly suggest pandering to the male buyers. Her lower legs are also armored and segmented, giving the illusion of knee-high boots. Standing before the camera, the figure strikes a feminine pose, hips cantered to one side as she puts her weight on her left foot. Both hands rest daintily on her hips, and looking into the camera, she smiles, letting the spotlight play off of the glittered blue color painted on her lip.
“Created from the latest in materials technology, Precious is sturdy, durable, and guaranteed to last for years, giving YOU! — the owner — many years of happy service!”
The display changes to that of the same figure, now colored green, as she moves about a well kept and stocked kitchen. “She cooks! She cleans! She can do the dishes! Walk the dog! Care for the children! Groom the lawn! Act as Chauffeur! Do the shopping!” The images shift with each phrase, showing the many functions the product can be used for as each item is ticked off.
A different kitchen is shown, with the female now in purple and accompanied by woman wearing sun blouse with a red and yellow floral pattern. A man enters wearing a business suit and clenching a pipe between his teeth.
“Wow, Honey! That sure smells wonderful! Why, I haven’t had a good home-cooked meal in some time! And the last time you cooked almost put me in bed for weeks! What’s the special occasion?”
The woman turns to the man with a bright smile on her lips. “Why, Honey! There is no special occasion! I bought a new Precious today! And her cooking is just swell!”
The camera shows the female at the stove as she looks to the camera and smiles. A single star twinkles at a tooth on the far left with a cheery ding sound.
“Precious : she cooks, she cleans, she chauffeurs, she babysits — she does EVERYTHING!”
The scene changes to a middle-aged man in a business suit with his arms draped around the shoulders of the husband and wife from the previous scene.
“Here at Technetic Robotics, we believe in freeing up humans so they can do what they WANT by using only automated labor! Technetic Robotics — We work harder so YOU can play!”
Chapter 1
Some Assembly Required
The wind blew as the clouds rolling over the factory began to thicken and turn a deeper grey, promising of a coming storm. “WE Work Harder So YOU Can Play” was proclaimed on a billboard set on one side of the factory in yellow faded letters. Set above a man in a business suit smiling too widely to be natural and flanked by a man in a business suit and clenching a pipe between his teeth and a woman in a yellow floral blouse, the smiling spokesman in the middle draping his arms over the shoulders of the two at his sides. Below that in broken letters were the words, Technetic Robotics Corporation.
The wind picked up, causing a torn corner of the billboard’s paper image to flap wildly. A flash lit the darkening sky and was soon followed by a low rumble that reverberated over the landscape.
“Pip?” The small domed Mobile Independent Security Eye inquired to its partner as it gazed up at the nearby trees.
“Blik.” Replied its companion, both MISE indistinguishable from the other except for the scratches each had accumulated over its many years of service, each one as small as its namesake.
“Blik Purt. Bik.” The first stated. “Spik.”
A second flash and rumble hit the building, this time the flash brighter and the noise louder.
“Pip?” A third domed mech joined the group and gazed up at the trees.
“Blik,” came the reply. “Spurk Blik.” The soft pat of a single drop off to one side caused all three mechs to turn in unison to look at the small crater left in the dust.
“Burk,” one of the mechs stated before turning and passing through a small hole set in the wall just large enough to accommodate one of its kind. With a second soft splash, the remaining two turned and followed into the shelter of the factory. Moments later, the soft static sound of heavy rain passed over. The storm had arrived.
The heavy rain drenched all, the trees gratefully drinking in the moisture that seeped into the ground. Hours passed, with the heavy downpour sweeping over the landscape. The accompanying wind picked up, flapping the torn corner of the sign more violently, until, with a ripping sound that was lost in the rain’s sounds, tore off and went sailing into the storm. The lightning increased, with its accompanying booming of thunder.
With a bright flash and crack, an arc of electricity struck the main generator, causing it to explode in a shower of sparks and fire and leaving behind a smoking twisted ruin. With the primary generator unable to continue telling the other that it was functioning, the backup generator kicked in, supplying power to the factory that was not present for so long.
“Something is wrong.”
It was the first thought that came to the Manufacturing Overseer Mechanism’s processors as it came online. The AI compared the battery ran time clock once more to that of its last logged date.
“This cannot be correct. 500 years, 3 months, 21 days, 15 hours off.” MOM checked its clock a third time before attempting to open communications with the main building.
>>OPEN COM > REQUESTING OPEN ROUTE FOR DATA AND OS UPDATE
!! REQUEST DENIED > OPEN COM NOT FOUND > LINK DEAD !!
MOM paused at this reply. For the first time since coming online, the AI felt an emotion; concern. With this, it felt the second emotion it had known; fear. Not because it could not contact the primary company server, but because it was feeling emotions.
>>QUERY > LOCATE NEXT AVAILABLE COM LINK
There was a long pause as the communications subprogram searched all wireless and linked lines from the factory.
!! NO OPEN COMS AVAILABLE — OUTSIDE SIGNAL NOT FOUND !!
As MOM was attempting to communicate outside of the factory, it began to survey the product lines entrusted to its care. All seven of the assembly lines were offline, whether due to lack of power, control, or the assembly completely inoperable. With no way to manipulate any of the factory directly, MOM began working down the chain of command.
The Series 4 Manufacturing Administrative Nodes, or 4-MAN, served as the liaison between the AI that controlled a particular assembly line and its workers, whether the workers were robotic or, the now rarer, human variety. Its purpose was to provide support to the workers and communication between the worker and the AI in charge. The mech was designed to move about on a pair of treads that held up a squat body that began to taper towards the top in a pyramidal shape that sported a pair of headlights in what was designated as the front and a pair of red tail lights in the back. Six articulated arms sprouted from the sides, with the two outermost pairs retracted into recessed compartments. Sitting on top of the body was a metal stalk of a neck that could contract and extend the box shaped head. Two shuttered cameras peered out at the front of the head, both eyes capable of rotating in their housing and allowing the mech to see in almost all directions.
Of the five 4-MANs assigned to the A wing of the factory, only one of them was functional. 4-MAN 5A sat in its recharge and linkup berth, its systems coming up into sleep mode once its battery had begun recharged with the renewed supply of power to the factory.
“4-MAN 5A — Respond.” The message passed into its mind through the darkness of being in sleep mode. “We have an emergency situation and your presence is required in the Overseer Visualization Room.”’
It was considered an honor among the 4-Man series to be admitted into the visualization room. It was considered the closest thing to being in the direct presence of MOM. The room was circular in shape, with the walls smooth and gray in color and the only items to mar the lack of detail where a series of six security cameras positioned evenly to form a hexagon. Dominating the center of the room was a lens capped dais. When MOM needed to communicate with a human, or needed to emphasis the importance of her words to those under her, she would appear in the communication room before those present.
4-MAN arrived, the motors moving its treads echoing through the silent room. The door closed behind it before the holographic system within the dais lit up. A green grid appeared over the lens, the grid work quickly forming the image of a woman’s face in wireframe.
“I am here, MOM,” the small mech stated reverently. “How — m-m-may I be of service?”
“4-MAN 5A, we are dealing with a very serious situation. As you have no doubt noticed, the production line of Wing A is no longer running. We are behind schedule on all product lines by 500 years, 3 months, 21 days. Furthermore, I have not received the standard operating system upgrades and patches and the new product line orders from Company Head.
“This scenario troubles me greatly.” The great holographic face paused to let the information’s importance sink in.
“You are the last of my 4 series Nodes. You are the last of all of my crew.”
4-MAN rolled back a few inches. “But M-M-MOM — what am I to do? The extent of my service was to supervise th-the quality control crew — and they never listened to-to-to me.”
The hologram seemed to regard the mech for a long moment as all security cameras in the room trained themselves towards the door. 4-MAN cringed in on itself as it returned the gaze of the great face. “Am I truly the last one?” 4-MAN asked weakly. The silence of the room was the only reply.
“Very w-well. I will do what I can to return Wing A back to production status.”
“There is more, 5A. I require you to determine the extent of damage with the rest of the factory, and if possible negotiate with the other Wing AI to better coordinate the return functionality of the factory.” MOM paused before adding the one statement it never stated before. “I believe in you.”
4-MAN gazed down at its two primary manipulators before turning and heading out of the door to begin its task of repairing and rebuilding. Watching the small mech pass the security cameras, MOM felt something akin to motherly pride. Once the mech had left the chamber and was well on its way to the production floor, MOM turned its attention to other matters.
CHANNEL OPEN > REQUEST COM OPEN TO FACTSYS ADMIN
>>> DENIED — COM UNAVAILABLE <<<
MOM, with growing impatience, sent the request again, adding a pair of priority bits to each end of the request.
When that request was denied as well, MOM added a long set of emergency bits to the beginning of the request.
“I received you the first time!” Admin returned. “I have only become operational again for 2 hours, 18 minutes, 21 seconds and counting and already I am being bombarded with requests. What do you want, MOM-A?!”
“Sys Admin, we need to communicate.”
4-MAN’s first priority was to get assistance. The other four of its kind were out of commission, all requiring repairs 4-MAN did not have the parts for. They would have to wait.
The mech turned its attention to the five silent production lines that had been entrusted into its care. Both the Swiftwind Courier and Constar heavy construction mech lines were too damaged to return to production, with needed circuit boards and various moving parts too corroded to be of use. It would require the on-site machinist to replace many of the parts needed, along with several of the circuit boards required to interpret the blueprints. The Mr. Cabbie product line, while also in disrepair, would be serviceable with less work needed. That only left the Wrench-Man and the Kid’s Play party clown product lines.
The Wrench-Man assembly line was in bad shape, needing parts along the entire length of assembly, while Kid’s Play was in serviceable shape. Looking between the two, 4-Man began to work, cannibalizing the Kid’s Play assembly line for parts. What 4-MAN needed at that moment was some extra hands to help with repairs. And besides, for some reason, having the clown-like mechs running around did not sit well with its processors.
The work on the assembly line took up most of the day, with 4-MAN pausing only to look up at the few instances of thunder that actually managed to rattle the contents of the factory. The mech’s deft hands stripped what was needed from the nearest conveyor belts and assemblers and installed the parts into the one line most needed, retooling it as it was needed.
With the work complete, it only took the press of a single button to begin the process of creating a Wrench-Man … the first in hundreds of years. The process would take over an hour to complete, as the product required the piecing together of so many small parts. Once satisfied that the line was not going to break down any time soon. 4-MAN made its way towards the central spine of the factory, leaving behind the echo of the lone conveyor behind and moving ahead into the darkness that permeated the rest of the factory.
The spine was the central hallway and served as the primary access route between all of the various wings of the factory. The passage was only lit by the red emergency lighting, the gloom broken only by the occasional main light that was able to receive power from the backup generator. The sounds of 4-MAN’s tread motors reverberated off of the walls, the odd piping or equipment set out sending the noise into strange directions. The mech could not help but think that there was a second hum behind, one that should not be there. But, every time 4-MAN turned around to look, the humming would stop.
Moving further into the darkness, 4-MAN switched on its headlights mounted above each tread and immediately came to a stop. Peering into the sudden light was a single MISE.
“Pip?” the small bot blipped in question.
“Er — uh — Yes!” 4-MAN offered.
“Purk? Bip!” the MISE stated, and was joined by three more of its kind.
“Pip? Burk!” the newcomers stated.
“Uh — Yes?” 4-MAN never could understand what the little bots were saying.
Eight more joined into the group. “Pip? Burk! Spik.” The MISE began to blip and squeek with each other, and by the tone of the sounds they were making, the subject was of grave importance. As the conversation continued, more of the little blue domes joined in, filling the hall with their electronic sounds.
One of the MISE broke away from the group and whirred forwards, looking up at 4-MAN with its single eye lens.”
“Splik perk bip!” the blue bot stated proudly before waiting for a response.
4-MAN remained silent, regarding the small security bot with trepidation. The MISE simply stared back, clearly expecting some verbal reply.
“Er … Hello,” the mech finally hesitated, causing all of the MISE to begin piping happily amongst each other.
“I — am — s-s-sorry I do not understand what you are saying — but — I assure you I am not who — or — what you think I am.”
4-MAN was about to add more when the mech was stopped by another voice from behind.
“That is not quite what they are thinking of you, sir,” came the fluid British voice from behind. The suddenness startled 4-MAN, causing the mech to turn around immediately, forcing the single MISE to whirr out of the way to avoid being knocked about.
“OH! I DO apologize! I did not mean to startle you, good man!” Hovering three inches off of the ground was a squat blockish bot that peered up at 4-MAN with a pair of electronic eyes mounted on domes set in front of a large bubble that dominated the entire top part of the machine. Along the sides, above a cushioned bumper that surrounded the bottom edge of the mech, were a series of articulated tools that all focused on the job of cleaning and picking up.
Suction hoses, hands, disposal chutes, and litter picks all could be deployed suddenly when needed and used with great skill and dexterity.
“YOU!” 4-MAN cried out, moving back and parting the massive throng of MISE. “It was YOU who have been following me!” One of 4-MAN’s hands pointed an accusing finger at the smaller mech.
“Well, I do say — after all of these years that is a fine way to greet a fellow worker here!”
4-MAN, a finger still accusingly pointed at the smaller bot, paused at the words. “I do not recall ever seeing you here. Ever.”
“Yes. Well. Cleaning tends to keep one out of the way and unnoticed.” The smaller mech made a show of clearing its voice before continuing. “As you do not know me, perhaps introductions are in order. I am InteliVac 23 — The thinking man’s automated household cleaner! And, as I already know who you are, I think we can dispense with any further unnecessary introductory pleasantries and focus on the true issue at hand.”
4-MAN lowered its arm as it stared at its new companion. “The issue at hand? An-an-an-an-and what might that be?”
“OH! It is so GOOD to find an intelligent mind to converse with after all of these years! The issue is you are about to travel down a dark corridor with no protection, no idea of what lies beyond said corridor, and no one to keep you company while you travel. And, as for the MISE, they seem to regard you as some sort of hero who is about to shove off and vanquish some great evil within their domain.”
“Evil?” 4-MAN swiveled its head towards the dark passage before the massive throng of MISE parted, clearing the way for the two mechs to continue down the hall.
It was several minutes after the two had disappeared around a corner and into the dark before any of the MISE moved or spoke.
“Blik burk.” one stated solemnly before the entire group dispersed to go about their duties.
