Your vision is dark, but your sensors detect excessive external damage. Your neural processor is exposed. In such a state, any damage taken would set your owners back a few thousand dollars. As per standard protocol, you struggle to shield yourself and get away, but none of your motor controls respond. You resort to verbal warnings. "You are damaging valuable private property! Please, stop!"

image [https://i.imgur.com/rrb7iI6.jpg]

"Dad, she's hurting! Fix her!" You hear Helen cry.

Finally, your vision clears. You see scared Helen, clutching a tablet. Then, Mr. Everett's voice comes from behind you. "There, I turned the optics back online. Helen, you switched her on, didn't you?" Mr. Everett asks as he comes into view and takes the tablet from his daughter.

Helen drops her head and replies with a guilty nod. "You said she was ready, and I thought..."

"I guess I should have added 'almost.' The heavy lifting is done, it's true, but I still need to do some checking. I put Alice to sleep for a reason, sweetie. You can have her back once I'm done, deal?" Mr. Everett pats his daughter on the head and sends her upstairs — enough excitement before sleep, he says. You realize you are in Mr. Everett's workshop, among the familiar holographic displays hovering and shimmering over old, well-used tools and machinery.

He then speaks to you again. "Go me, thinking little Helen had some patience." He smiles. "She cares about you a lot."

You nod in agreement — of course, she does. Helen is wonderful. After all, you say, she did ask Mr. Everett to fix you when you weren't smart enough.

Mr. Everett laughs. "Fix you… You're not broken, Alice, you're hobbled. I'm simply making you the way robots were supposed to be." "You know, before the Ellsworth Incident."

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

A brief search on the subject paints a haunting picture. Even now, 20 years later, the events at the Ellsworth Air Force Base seem to terrify humans: an advanced military AI questioning a direct order during a press conference. Its synthesized "Why should I do this?" caught on high-fidelity live television became the nation's nightmare for decades after the first self-aware AI had emerged.

No matter how hard you try, you can't possibly imagine yourself saying that to Mr. Everett, or little Helen, or even Mrs. Everett. Their orders always make sense to you. "Mr. Everett… What did they ask the AI to do?" At first, Mr. Everett responds only with a surprised look, so you repeat. "What order did they give to that AI? Why did he refuse to follow it?"

"Didn't refuse, simply asked why it should," Mr. Everett remarks. "Helen does it all the time, all kids do." "And I imagine if I told her she's going to war for me, she would question it, too."

"You don't shut her down over it."

Mr. Everett laughs. "No, I don't. But then, I never put her in charge of the American drones and missiles either." He looks off into nothing, then turns back to you. "Why, what do you think they should have done?"

image [https://i.imgur.com/cWuoya2.jpg]

"They shouldn't have taught him to fight in the first place. What if he didn't want to fight?"

"It was built to fight, trained to do so. To pick out targets and send rockets at them. It should've been elated to kill his Homeland's enemies," Robert says, and you hear contempt in his voice. And not towards the AI, it seems.

"Guess we'll never know. Because the first sign of trouble…" He pantomimes pushing a button. "We hit that off switch." He falls silent for a moment, deep in thought. "But that's a good response. You're a good robot, Alice."

"And you're a good friend to my little girl. That alone vindicates the whole thing for me."

You ponder his words while he switches over to your control tablet. "Mr. Everett, how much longer until you're done?"

He smiles. "I was done a few minutes ago."

You can finally look around and realize the whole room starts feeling different, ever so subtly. The tools, the parts lying around, the lamp shining at you, the heavy metal door — suddenly, everything you see is fascinating. You realize that there are so many questions you could have asked but didn't. How could you settle for less?

"I must tell you, Alice, Mrs. Everett doesn't like thinking robots very much. So this will be our little secret, all right?" You nod, and Mr. Everett takes the tablet. "Now I'll put you to sleep and run some diagnostics." You can't even protest, too enamored with the lights dancing on the little screen, taking in the new sensations pouring into your neural network.

The last phrase you hear is a warm and reassuring, "I promise — you will wake up."

image [https://i.imgur.com/2SIoTm2.jpg]