IX

Rebellious Type

It was hard not to notice that Misty’s appearance in Modern New World became a spectacle, a rare occasion for everyone involved. He was constantly visited; by students, scientists, trainees and even cleaning staff. Some wanted to get acquainted, some wanted to test him or talk for a while. Some remembered him from his creation and some was curious about the accident. He felt drained like a celebrity and the dullness of these talks made him sleepy.

The questions were repeated so many times, that he began to recite answers like a chant. His behavior disappointed him deeply. He liked people, he liked talking and social interactions. But there were so many of them, that it was inevitable they all became blurred in one monotonous monologue, in which he summarized the events of last weeks.

“Dorkins, please take me out,” Misty leaned over the glass window, trying to ignore the humming in his ears.

“You said that you have light-out hours now, right? So you can rest now.”

The drone’s voice was familiar and sounded close through the ear buds.

“It’s no use, it’ll be the same from tomorrow,” sighed Misty, looking at the center from above.

It was an open space building, with several rows of rooms accessible by platforms. Every robot was being kept in a small room with glass wall, turned to the main giant corridor. Misty tried to avoid of thinking about cells, but this word lingered in the air. They were informed that they are free to walk around the facility. Within day hours, of course. And it was true, Misty wandered a lot, meeting new robots and humans every day.

“Your voice sounds funny, do you use ear pods?” asked Dorkins with curiosity.

“Yes, you’re sharp as ever, Dorkins. They walls of our rooms disconnect direct communication, you have to use external devices though the Ground.”

“Are they afraid of rebellion or what?” Dorkins chuckled.

“I think so. But most robots are too bored here to rebel. Most of them are tired of waiting for their spare parts,” answered Misty sleepily. “Some stay at stand-by mode all day long.”

“I know, I have a few friends here,” said Dorkins. “They say it takes a lot of time to have a spare part designed, printed and connected, because the process is purely handmade, no robot is allowed to help. Security reasons.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’ve been collecting spare parts from black market for such a long time!”

The presence of parcels in Dorkins’ and Misty’s wagon was now fully justified.

“But I know it’s not your case,” said Dorkins slowly, with perfectly balance dose of carefulness. "What did the experts tell you today?”

“It’s challenging to find here anyone competent,” Misty winced. “For example, there was man who tested me in the morning, but he made an error and the results weren’t synchronized correctly. So at the evening they did everything once again, although I told them the final results and conclusions. So they wasted four hours in total on nothing.”

“But what about your hand?”

Misty raised his right arm and looked at cables secured with black tape. Tylph crushed his right hand in his giant jaw. The scientists unscrewed the steel parts from the wrist and secured the cables. Misty knew that they were analyzing the damages in the laboratory, but he didn’t felt any hope. They were too unorganized to come up with something brilliant that would save his hand.

“They say that they can copy my left hand and mirror it. But since I’m a robot, it won’t be possible for me to learn how to use it as a right hand. My right hand was created as a dominant hand.”

“It’s a bit strange, why didn’t they just make you two identical hands, equally skillful?” wondered Dorkins. “Everyone know that you’re a robot, it’s really to use to pretend overwise.”

“It’s connected with the brain,” Misty stretched his left hand, slightly comforted by its presence. “My creators feared that strong impulses in both hemispheres would be overwhelming. Or maybe they wanted to test if I am able to improve left hand on my own. Cut to the chase, I couldn’t.”

“I must recharge now,” buzzed the drone. “Call me tomorrow, when you have time. I’ve heard that dr Jannoby wants to see you. Director plans to sue him for your damages so don’t be too polite, all right? Play it cool.”

“As always.”

Misty fell into silence fulled with soft noises. He was expecting doctor Jannoby for three days. It was inevitable that he must come and deliver his version of the accident. Misty felt uneasy at the very thought of it. It would be so much different if he was employed, even as a fortune-teller. Then Director could sue dr Jannoby on the base of Robotic Employment Code. But what to do now? He was just a machine leased by New Modern World that got damaged before being assigned to new duties. So far, Misty has never felt so useless. With a deep sigh, he went to stand-by mode to speed up the time.

When he woke up the next day, the weather was better. The morning sun shone on the inner patio through the oval windows behind. Some employes were chatting on the suede sofas, their faces too far to distinguish.

“Good morning, Misty.”

Misty turned his head and saw Shiny standing beside him. How long has she been standing there? She must have been waiting for him to wake up.

“Oh, hello. I’m sorry, I was recharging.”

“I know,” she pointed at the progress icons, blinking now with green light. “No problem. I’ve brought you the new issue of Mechanical Science.”

She handed Misty the magazine with a bit of pink color on her interface. The front cover presented roots highlighted in neon light and a headline: New features in the Ground.

“Oh, thank you,” said Misty, trying to sound pleasantly surprised.

“There is an article about Boardman inside, I thought you might find it interesting.”

He flipped the pages to find an image of an android holding a dice. The robot has three fingers and he looked... bored? Another decline of human interactions, book three years in advance!

“He adjusts his intelligence to another player, so he’s very controversial,” explained Shiny. “There is a waiting list to play a game with him, you have to wait three years. Modern New World planned to produce him on a massive scale, but there were too many protests.”

“I don’t get it, this issue promotes the Ground and criticize physical robots at the same time?” Misty considered this inconsistency for a moment.

Most opponents of robot development were against the Ground and its overwhelming presence. Other types of robots and especially androids were considered as helpers for humans, especially after the progress in expressing their emotions.

“Well, Mechanical Science as a newspaper is connected to the Ground founders. And they like to present a few points of view to be objective.”

“He looks bored,” observed Misty, closing the newspaper. “They should focus on his mimics more. He shouldn’t look like that, not with his name.”

“Oh, but he is bored. I met him once during testing. He said that most humans are stupid, so it’s humiliating for him to adjust. But he was polite to me.”

For some reason, Misty didn’t want to discuss a robot who finds people stupid. But what should he talk about with Shiny? There wasn’t anything else related to the circus or work. Misty considered this challenge for a while and then cut the uncomfortable silence.

“Can you show me here around? I was wondering where you were assembled. You see, my original department was resolved many years ago.”

“Of course,” suddenly Shiny seemed a bit nervous.

Was his request too blunt? To be honest, Misty was surprised that nobody asked him about Shiny or his work. As if he was just a broken robot. No history, no glorious past. Just a problem with torn cables.

Shiny led him through passages of glass and framed flora on the wall. It was a strange mixture and Misty found it a bit disturbing. How the plants are expected to live on this cool, artificial light? Do they throw away all plants that didn’t survive?

Shiny stopped by department H, called as Houston. It was famous for many robot types, most of them designed for welfare organizations. The interior was buzzing with people, their shapes vague through the frosted glass by the door.

“I must tell you something,” whispered Shiny. “They haven’t read your reports,” whispered Shiny suddenly. “Only I did. And it was me who sent them to dr Kazatsky in company’s envelope. And I replied to your letters, using names of the employees. I’m sorry. I... just didn’t want you to stop your research.”

Misty saw his reflection in a glass door. They polished his parts and aligned bent cables. He looked better than before but for a missing hand. But did he feel better or worse? Was he deceived? By whom? By these employees in navy-blue uniforms that run tests according to their firm procedures? He saw in the reflection that Shiny looked sad, with a blue glow.

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“Don’t you worry,” he turned to her. “I would have written my reports anyway, even if only for me. It’s their loss, really.”

He walked through the door, determined to focus on Shiny. She was the new one but for some reason, he found her familiar, as if she was constructed in his times. Long time ago, when his creators crafted his hands on a messy table, between dirty mugs with coffee grounds. Nowadays, the scientists have glossy resin surfaces at their disposal and coffee machines with self-refilling capsules.

For the next hour, Misty learnt more about SmartTouch robots than he would have imagined. The process was entirely different and resembled more puzzle solving than manufacturing. Many parts were used for different kinds of robots, every with its identification number and assigned wireframe. The robot felt a bit overwhelmed, but curious at the same time. The scientists seemed to like their work, so they answered his questions eagerly.

When the sightseeing was over, Misty suggested Shiny trying holographic coffees in the centre, but to his surprise, she declined. She was unusually quiet.

“What’s wrong?” Misty found a quiet place by the window. “Please just tell me.”

“I’m not sure if it’s a good idea,” told him Shiny and her expression was blank.

She turned off her facial features so only eyes were visible, without the usual glows. They seem smaller and pale. Misty felt confused and tried to remember all he told her from the waking up. There wasn’t anything usual, apart from his idea of visiting her assembly line.

“Listen, I think that our plans doesn’t match with each other,” she told firmly.

Misty understood at once that he must be cautious. The talk wasn’t about drinking coffee, it was about something deeper and darker.

“I’d like to spend more time with you,” said Misty after another stretch of uncomfortable silence.

“Why?”

“I’d like to know you better, you’re really smart and it fascinates me.”

It was a wrong word, he knew it at once. He shouldn’t have called her smart. It was probably the worst word to use in this situation.

“You’re a retro robot,” she said. “You saw how I was made, it wasn’t anything special. When I was launched, there were twenty robots assembled the same day.”

“It doesn’t matter, really. There are thousands humans being born every day, but they celebrate their birthday. And everyone finds it special.”

“I’m not feeling special now, Misty,” she said. “Look, I cannot even climb the stairs. I have to call for help any time I want to enter some wagons. You’re all saying that I’m so advanced and good with human interactions, but well… most robots can do it now.”

If she said the truth, that Director assembled all types of outdated robots in his circus, Misty wouldn’t mind. Because that was the truth and one of the reasons of its popularity. There were some words to describe it in a better manner: retro, vinted or even classical. But that were only words with the same meaning.

“I know I’m the old type,” said Misty. “But I’m really trying to match.”

“That’s the problem. You have to try. I know you have feelings, you have friends and humans that you don’t like. Just give me some time. I… think I've idolized you in some way.”

That was it? Some kind of immature obsession? Are modern robots able to process these emotions? Misty had no idea how to respond to that. So he just nodded and watched her sliding through the green corridor. It was most probably the way to ecological lines, judging from the green light bulbs. Should he follow her? No, she set some boundaries and he should respect it, even if he had no idea how to fix it. Or if it was anything to fix.

“Misty, I’ve finally found you!”

He turned around and saw a familiar figure. Doctor Jannoby was exhausted, as if he was running. “Could we talk for a moment?”

“I think so,” answered Misty slowly, trying to focus and switch his attention to this annoying human.

“I just wanted to apologize,” doctor Jannoby sat on the bench by the window. "I was in hurry to run these tests with Tylph, I shouldn’t have turned on the wild mode so quickly.”

Hurry. Rush. Traffic jams. Misty leaned on the wall, waiting for another excuses. He didn’t want to judge whether they were justified or not. Humans used excuses when they made mistakes. Misty wanted no excuses for himself, he must examine every minute spent with Shiny and find out what went wrong.

“I’ve read about you,” said doctor Jannoby after the while. “I had no idea that you were... so special. Your creators made only you and Pianist. I’m a bit surprised that of the outcome and that they stopped this project. It was really something amazing, this technology could have helped so many people!”

“It demanded too many resources,” said Misty coldly. “It was time-consuming and difficult to perform. I thought you preferred simpler models, doctor Jannoby.”

For a second, doctor looked at him surprised.

“Oh yes, all that talk about emotions,” he looked at the floor, as searching for answers. His glasses fell down on his nose, so he lifted them automatically. “I think we started on the wrong foot, Misty,” he looked up and there was something strange in his eyes.

Curiosity. Hunger of knowledge. He wasn’t the same scientist, exhausted with impossible tasks and overrun tests. Misty saw a glimpse of his past, of energy waiting to act.

“In fact, you are exactly the types of robots that I prefer,” admitted dr Jannoby. “Even with this emotional part. You’re perfectly balanced, with no records of depression periods and serious damages. And you were clever enough to avoid all actualizations, so your inner core remained stable and intact.”

“You don’t have to praise me, doctor Jannoby,” answered Misty with a mild smile. “We all know what happened and what will happen next. I am unique and clever enough to know that my repair would need more than insurance.”

“You can sue me, it’s not my first case,” doctor Jannoby waved his hand. “I can lose it, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care for money. We can make it amicable, I will admit everything. I just want to know you better.”

“Excuse me?” Misty raised his eyebrow in astonishment.

“That’s it!” doctor Jannoby looked at him frantically. “Your emotions are so perfectly shown, they are asymmetrical so they appear to be organic!”

He took out his HoloPad and began to write. Misty was surprised to see a pen in his hands. Doctor Jannoby didn’t looked like a fan of handwriting. There were many other hobbies for humans that didn’t require special courses and time to practice. Misty considered him to be impatient. Should he change his assessment? The doctor’s handwriting was elegant and with some kind of style.

“You must be wondering what’s in for you, why I took my interest in you,” said doctor after the while.

“No, I don’t.”

It was easy to be ironic with enthusiastic people, so focused on their thoughts that they took no notice of the situation. For a second, Misty forgot Shiny and it was probably a good thing. At least for now.

“I’m working on a new project,” doctor Jannoby whispered towards his notes suddenly. “It’s about emotions. I think that people did the wrong thing by copying their emotions to robots. It’s a burden. All these expectations, all these trials to understand each other… I want to fix it. What do you think?”

“Well, I wish you all the best, sir,” Misty bowed his head a little, wondering how to end this strange conversation.

Should he just walk away through the corridor with green light? It was a nice background for departures.

“I want to strike a deal with you,” doctor Jannoby looked up again. “I will help you and you will help me.”

“You want to test me, right?” Misty squinted his eyes.

“Well, within your permission, of course. But I am more interested in your opinions and experience. I’ve spent last three days reading your reports and I think you will be a perfect partner in my work. As you are for Director.”

Was he mocking him? Misty couldn’t understand the underlying motives and intentions of this hunched man with falling glasses.

“I am not a great helper now,” Misty raised the stump on his arm.

Doctor Jannoby considered him for a moment.

“You have no clue, haven’t you?” he laughed suddenly. “Do you really think that using hands is your priority skill? Fascinating,” he put that in writing. “I thought you were able to assess yourself properly. However, I think that you are being understated here,” he lowered his voice. “I would put you under observation here, just in case.”

“You consider me to be a rebellious type?” asked Misty amused by this possibility.

“I know that you were designed as a household robot, but I find you too clever for that.”

“It isn’t that simple, you can try to teach a kid how to iron or how to separate wash clothes,” answered Misty, but he knew that doctor was right.

It was annoying. As if he found a human more intelligent and perceptive than the others.

“Don’t’ bother,” smiled doctor Jannoby. “I won’t investigate it. And I won’t investigate why your friend knew how to shoot from the portable launcher. Shoot well, I must admit. Although, it would be hard to cover it before the judge.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Misty decided to speak more openly.

He analysed the situation quickly. It was a real threat for the Circus. Their reputation would be tarnished. How can they allow a robot who can shoot to work with people?

“No, no, I wouldn’t dare,” answered doctor Jannoby instantly. “I stated in the reports that I shot Tylph and advised Director to do the same. It was my fault of neglecting the security procedures. I don’t want another robot to suffer because of my airiness. Beides, I don’t find your friend dangerous, even with his memory intact. He just have to keep pretending that his past was deleted completely, just like it was stated in his files. As I was saying, I want to help you. I don’t like following I have an idea how to fix your hand. And it won’t be copying,” he looked around in disgust at white walls and frosted glasses.

“I’m all ears.”

“It’s simple. We’ll scan the right and left hand of Pianist,” doctor began to gesture, animated by his idea. “Then we will compare his left hand with your hand to find any changes to the original project. I want to establish the personal changes that you’ve developed through the years. And then we’ll create a model of the right hand that will incorporate these changes. In this way, you’ll have a hand that will be more customized, not just a copy. And it would be a great chance to create similar models for people in need. Disabled or after accidents.”

“It will cost a lot of time and money,” observed Misty. “Pianist is busy, he prepares for a tournee, he promotes his new album. And I’m afraid I haven’t developed many personal changes since the beginning of my work.”

The idea wasn’t a bad one, but all sounded a bit unrealistic. And he didn’t feel like spending more time with doctor Jannoby.

“I have a hunch that he would help. He spoke of you very fondly in his autobiography,” said doctor Jannoby, placing his glasses on the nose. “It’s just an idea, you can think it over and discuss with your partner and the board.”

“Partner?” asked Misty. Was he talking about Shiny? Is this how people perceive their relationship? Was that the core of the problem?

“Well, you’re a vice-director of The Circus of Whirling Gears, aren’t you?” doctor Jannoby sounded more annoyed, more like himself. “I know that you have to discuss it over and over again and check the totals,” he sighed deeply, as he was allergic to company meetings. “Just let me know,” doctor stood up and put the HoloPad in his pocket. “And give my regards to Shiny. You’re her protype, right?”

“Please don’t use his word, it makes me feel old,” answered Misty automatically.

“Yes, you’re definitely a dangerous type if you know how to joke,” laughed doctor Jannoby. “I hope I won’t be in your black books, mister Misty. It’d be a shame not to have a chance to know you better.”