Chapter 20
Freeing the Mind
Time passed in the factory, yet it wasn't noticeable or measurable in minutes or hours. Ty was forced to sleep (Forty-Four made a bed appear from somewhere beneath the platform) several times, which told him that he’d been there for, at most, a week.
Within that time, Ty focused on two tasks: building a weapon, and delving deeper into Forty-Four's internal workings (in a metaphorical sense, not literal).
A weapon made of plastic. That would be useful, eh? Ty knew how absurd it sounded, but he was—for one thing—totally desperate and... he just had this feeling about it. When his hands touched the bricks and started snapping them together, energy flowed through him, taking over. He built in a sort of trance, not consciously aware and in control of his actions, but each choice of brick and placement of the pieces had a purpose. A purpose he could not see or understand, but a purpose nonetheless.
Forty-Four's silence didn't last terribly long, and he left his spot above the table to take up residence above Ty's shoulder, looking down at what was then just a few pieces in his lap.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Just building.”
“It would be faster if you used my programs. Let me—”
“No thanks,” Ty turned the offer down without even looking up at the robot.
Forty-Four flew away again and left him alone. Ty felt bad treating him like that, but it was necessary.
As he expected, Forty-Four approached him again after a time.
“Why won't you let me help you?”
“You can help me,” Forty-Four lowered himself, his face gone and replaced with his building program. “But not like that.”
The menus vanished, a puzzled expression taking their place. “How else could I help you?”
“By putting that futuristic junk away and helping by hand... er, well, by pincers.”
The robot looked confused, so to help out, Ty pointed to his mechanical arms.
Forty-Four seemed to nod, and the tubes flopped over the side and into the ocean. Both of them stared at the place they went under for several seconds. “What now?”
Ty kept his laughter in check, doing his best to remain serious and shrugged. “Just build something.”
The building program replaced Forty-Four's face again.
“No, no! Don't use that, use your imagination.”
“I do not have that.”
“Not true. How do you make all of those designs? Where do those ideas come from?”
“My programming.”
Ty sighed, loud and drawn out. “With that logic, my imagination came from my parents, and their parents, and, depending on how far you want to go back, some omnipotent God who created the whole human race.”
“That is true, but your creator gave all of your race something that I lack.”
“And what is that?” Ty asked.
“Free will.”
“Heh, and you don't have that, too? San told you to have a sense of humor? San told you to get upset and hand out the silent treatment? San told you to bring toys to life to amuse yourself? Does San put the ideas in your mind for your creations?”
“He does give me the ideas,” he said, completely ignoring the other things Ty pointed out. The robot was not getting off the hook that easily. “All that I create are either from pictures of real world creatures, objects, places, etc. The rest, the less realistic designs, come from human minds—I am able to pluck the ideas straight from anyone on Earth.”
Ty took a card from Forty-Four's deck and chose to ignore how impressive all of that sounded. “Have you ever tried to make anything on your own, without all of that?”
Computer and boy stared each other down, both unblinking.
Forty-Four was the first to break. He flew away, returning to his corner without another word.
#
Ty continued his work. By the third (perhaps fourth) day he made some sort of handle. He had no idea where he was going with it, but at least it was beginning to resemble a weapon.
His other task hit a wall. Ever since their last conversation, Forty-Four said very little and made no further attempts at helping Ty. The robot continued hovering about the area, managing all the unseen work that went on deep beneath the sea. From the corner of his eye, the boy saw that the robot was watching him.
Enough time passed for Ty to know that Forty-Four was not going to approach him on his own again. He would need to take the initiative this time.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Forty-Four.”
The robot's pixelated eyes looked in his direction, then darted away. For someone who claimed he didn't have a name, he reacted rather fast to the one Ty chose for him.
“What do you want, small and annoying human?”
What did he want? Well, he knew what it was, but what did he have to say to get there? He settled with the first thing that came to mind, “Do you like working here?”
Forty-Four's electronic expression looked surprised. But only briefly. “It is what I was made to—”
“Drop it. Answer me truthfully. Do you like this job? Do you like this room? Do you like San?”
A flash of disgruntled fear skittered across the screen at the mention of his creator's name. Forty-Four saw the look on Ty's face and turned around, hiding his reaction.
“You don't, do you? Why do you stay?”
“I... I was made to do this. I have no other choice.”
Ty shook his head, “No, you do have a choice. You are not a mindless computer with a set amount of functions. San went above and beyond with you, he gave you too many. You're just as human as I am, Forty-Four, and you have every right as I do to decide what you want. You don't have to stay here, slaving away for San, doing what he wants and stealing ideas from humans. You can do what you want. You can be free.”
He faced Ty again, his expression very hard to read. “How can I? How can I disobey San? How do I create without an imagination?”
Ty smiled up at him “I'll show you.”
#
After that, things moved quickly.
“First of all,” Ty said, pacing back and forth in front of Forty-Four, his eyes tracking the boy's path. “You do have an imagination. You just don't know how to use it. Bring up all of those building programs and stuff.”
The screen filled with windows.
“Delete them. All of them.”
One of Forty-Four's eyes peeked around the windows. “...all?”
“Every single one.”
“Are you positive?”
Ty nodded.
The eye looked pained and unsure... but the windows vanished, the message “Files deleted” taking their place.
“Good,” Ty patted Forty-Four on the back. He knew how hard that was for him. “Feel any different?”
“No.”
That was a good sign... maybe.
“Okay. Now, I need to know something: is it possible for you to program a creation to do a lot of things at once, and react quickly to a number of different actions? Something more complex?”
“Yes. But it would take quite some time; I have never attempted to create anything quite like that.”
Darn. Ty paced faster, thinking, until he got another idea. “What about a way for me to control it?”
“You mean like this?” Forty-Four placed a watch-like device on his wrist, snapping closed around it.
“What is it?” Ty asked, turning his wrist around, looking at the thing from all angles.
“I prepared that for you when San told me of your coming. It is, basically, a simplified version of what I use to control what I make. Simpler, but I believe it can handle what you are looking to do.”
Ty explored the touch screen menus with a flick of his finger. “Yes! This is exactly what I need.”
The corners of Forty-Four's loading bar mouth raised in a slight smile, happy to be of help.
Ty returned the gesture with an evil grin. “Now, I need you to build something for me.”
“Me?” He sounded afraid.
“Yep, you—all on your own. No programs, no preset images. All you. Are you up for it?”
Forty-Four stared at the ground for at least a minute. When he looked back up again, Ty could almost feel the determination popping out of the screen. “I am.”
“Great! Whatever you create is up to you, but here's what I need it to be able to do...”
#
It was difficult to get Forty-Four started. Their first challenge was teaching him to hold the small pieces. Apparently, that ability was one of the programs he deleted, which was going a bit too far in Ty's opinion, but it certainly showed his commitment. Thankfully, he was able to relearn the skill and the next problem became apparent: he had no way of deciding what to do with the pieces. Ty watched him for fifteen minutes and all he did was pick up different bricks, hold them for a while, and then put them back down.
Ty sighed. “Okay, here. What are you thinking right now?”
“Nothing. I do not know what to think. I do not know what to build.”
“Try imagining—wait.” Something dawned on Ty. “Let me rephrase that. Try picturing something.”
“You told me not to.”
“I told you not to look at a picture or idea and copy it perfectly through a program. What I want you to do now is different. Where do you think human's ideas come from?”
“Their imagination.”
“What inspires imagination?”
No answer.
“The world around them.” Ty was building up steam now as he remembered sitting and watching his grandfather work, listening as he talked about what he loved to do. “The things they experience, feel, and see all join together to give birth to what they create. When you get down to it, everything has real world components that bring about ideas—no matter how strange or unreal it is, it was built from aspects of things that already exist. Get it?”
“I am not sure.”
Unperturbed, Ty pressed on. “Look at all the pictures of real things you have inside of you and mix them up. Take parts you like from one picture and combine it with something else from another. Can you do that?”
“I believe so.” Forty-Four's face was one of complete concentration. He put so much effort into the task that Ty was afraid he might explode. But, then, the robot smiled.
Forty-Four put the picture he created on his screen, his eyes looking around it eager for Ty's reaction.
The boy grinned. “This could be perfect! Now, keep that picture in your head, and try recreating it out of bricks. It's not going to be easy like before where you just copied everything perfectly, but that's okay. Don't get discouraged, all right? If you aren't satisfied with the finished product, just try again.”
Forty-Four nodded. “I understand.”
He asked no further questions, getting started on his task right away with an excitement that Ty recognized. It was how he'd looked when his grandpa showed him the “right” way to build.
Ty watched the robot for a few minutes to make sure he was on the right track, then returned to his work by the edge of the ocean, resuming where he'd left off.