DAY 0. NOVEMBER 14TH, 2059: AFTERNOON
A boy disabled the small robot with a quick, precise strike. Structure evaporated around the device shell. He supported one ledge, gripping an exposed metallic chain of wires. Heaving, he dragged the robot out his bedroom door and into the hallway. The base wheel mewed with resistance against the floor. Furrowing his eyebrows, Rayburn Halloway leaned forward to keep momentum against the reluctant captive. Opening the door to his house, he moved into the residence hallway. A few others in the hallway watched as Ray lugged the robot forward. Eyes focused and unwavering, Ray nodded his head when a passerby wearing a white lab coat greeted him.
A stretching pain climbed from his wrist and into his arm as he moved the weight against the resisting wheel. Flexing his muscles provided some relief. The robot was as cumbersome as a dog avoiding a bath. Ray adjusted as pain rose into his shoulder. He continued to advance by lunging forward in a chopping, lurching pace. Midway down the hall, he surrendered briefly and turned to pull with both hands. The effort was awkward in reverse, leaning backward. Craning his neck around, he checked to make sure his path was clear. He heaved. Turning to face forward again, he switched to pulling with his rested arm, brewing sweat dripping down the side of his face. Finally, he closed on the end of the residence hallway and rounded the corner into a hallway with offices on each side.
'Almost there now,' he thought, passing the large server windows now at the farthest end of the hall. He noticed his father speaking with two scientists but had no time for distractions. Ray tried to blend in and hide within the hallway traffic behind a large lumbering man. He felt a burst of energy as his heart pulsed at seeing his dad and adrenalin rushed into his body. Now, he had to slow his pace as the large man he chose to hide behind lumbered, planning each step like a giant sloth. Sweat dripped from his face and arms and gathered in his palms. Wiping his free hand on his pants for a better grip, he switched hands for a firm hold. Unable to see his father now, his mind raced with the explanations his father would need. He set his eyes on the back of the large man's shoes as the march continued. Impressed by the black shine and polish, he couldn't imagine how his feet would ever grow that big. Ray burst through the server room door. The pitch from the dragging wheel increased and whined as he picked up the pace. The robot shifted to the side as the metallic arm hit the floor, accompanied by loud screeching. Halfway through the room, he could hear the door closed behind him. He was unseen.
Ray navigated back through walls of optical memory. Colorful hues glowed on the floor and painted the robot's body in blue, magenta, and yellow. Even at his young age, Ray knew the colors that glimmered along the rows of stacks. These lights were status for traffic, faults, and usage levels. The server room was Ray's second home. The low hum from the equipment dampened other noises. Complicated algorithms cycling through the machines drove the lab's building intelligence. The room was cold despite constant activity from the server grid. When Ray got too cold, he climbed behind the cooling chamber, where large fans blew the over hot pipes of liquid. Right now, the feel of the crisp cold air felt good on his perspiring limbs and face. Ray passed racks of neural grids, the intelligence behind the laboratory research systems. Status lights indicated both building maintenance and landscaping were active. Like brain scans depicting activity during speech, creative expression, and exercise. He imagined the clouds of server light as distant galaxies waging battles in space. His father, tolerating many questions, described the functions distributed among the neural grids. Recalling his dad now, a tinge of guilt rose as he recalled hiding behind the man in the hall. Still, there was no time for distractions; this robot needed him.
At the age of ten, Ray had been tinkering to improve the robot for several years. During the last section review, two neuroscientists offered an internship. He discovered the job was cleaning instead of initiatives and customer products. Almost anything was better than cleaning. He would prefer to train competing game algorithms or work on his robot algorithms.
Ray heaved the robot around another corner and down the corridor of offices. Ray and lifeless robot entered one of the offices, and light flooded the room. The room was round and white with white furniture. Ray gestured into the air near, and a thick cable descended into the center of the room. Ray pulled the robot across the smooth white floor and grabbed the cord with his free hand. He used all his strength to connect the cable to the back of the robot's head. A *click* followed a solid *clunk*. Deep within the robot, the connection completed, spinning until torquing into place. The robot's wheel came to life, moving it into vertical alignment, arms dangling to the side.
Ray gestured again in the air and a display projected before him. He navigated through graphs and statistics with the flick of his wrist. Then he selected one with a sun with an infinity image inside. A large, red control button appeared, labeled: Engage. Ray heard footsteps approaching as he pushed. The door opened as the screen changed into a bar entitled: "Nano upgrade 1.0". An estimate to complete showed four minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Ray sighed, feeling his shoulders and relax as he turned to the door to see his father.