For the next week I worked almost continually on the project. Stopping only when I had to eat or sleep. Firstly I ran a whole series of checks and test on the commandbot, to see how badly damaged it was and also to see if any of its other systems were better than those already installed. A few minor systems turned out to be better than my own and those were quickly installed.
With this job completed I moved on to the final stage, installing of the links. My hands shook as I made the last few connections.
Soon I would have some one to talk to again, soon I could resume some sort of normal life. I paused before making the last connection, suddenly feeling a little apprehensive. Failure was not some thing I had really considered before, but I did now. I knew that every step had been carefully planned and everything triple checked, so why was I thinking like this now. Every thing had to work, there was no possibility of failure.
Crazy as it sounds, with eight years of work minutes away from completion, I stopped. I could not continue. I put my tools down and stood back from the table, my shaking hands covering my nose and mouth. I stood for a long, long time, just staring at my lives work, before running from the room.
I a spent restless and sleepless night considering my work.
I sat by the comÕs consoles, pleading for hours for some one to answer, so that I wouldn’t have to make that final connection But no one replied.
I did not want to find that the last eight years of my life had been wasted, but if I did not finish my work it would be that those years will have been wasted.
Every time that I felt brave enough to complete the work I got up and headed straight to my work room. But however fast I walked, my resolve had gone by the time I got there.
I forget how many times I travelled along that corridor. First one way then the other.
“This is stupid”, I said to my self at about five o’clock. I stopped just before my work rooms door and gathered up my resolve. I slowly opened the door and stepped inside.
Ten minutes later it was done. I felt such a feeling of relief. Eight years of work completed. Now the neural nets only needed to bond with the synaptic memories and she would be ready. I waited impatiently by her side. I knew it would take several hours for the bonding to be complete. But I could wait.
I awoke some time later, I did not know how long I’d slept for. For a brief few seconds I was totally disoriented. I knew that I had fallen asleep in my work room, but I did not know where I was now. The disorientation passed when I realised that I was in my own bed. I relaxed for a moment, until the panic rose in me again. How did I get here ? I know I did not go to bed, I was so tired I could have slept anywhere.
Slowly I got out of bed, my heart racing. Someone must have put me to bed, none of the robots could have I knew, they were not programmed for that. So who had penetrated my security and why had they then put me to bed.
It did not make sense I would have been defenceless laying there in my work room, they could have easily killed me.
Cautiously I opened my bedroom door and looked out in to the corridor. It was empty. Relieved that it hadn’t been full of raging scavengers, as I had expected, I headed very slowly and cautiously toward the control centre.
Suddenly from the corridor ahead I heard the sounds of movement. I froze. Totally unable to move I stood there as the sound got closer and closer.
Before now it hadn’t really sunk in, but now I knew someone had invaded my home. I was filled with a sudden and terrible rage.
A single tall figure rounded the corner in the corridor ahead of me, it was dressed in some sort of shiny silver suit. It did not alter it’s pace as I stood there staring at it. I expected nothing but a violent death.
But instead of the attack I was expecting the figure spoke to me. “Are you feeling better”. It asked in a quite gentle female voice.
It was my robot, I suddenly realised. Of course I had programmed it to take care of me, so when it found me asleep by it’s side it…no, she must have put me to bed.
“Y…you…I”. I stammered. “Are you feeling alright ?” She asked, her beautiful chrome body glinting in the dim corridor light.
“Yes”. I finally managed to say.
“Are you working okay ?” I asked. “All my systems are operating normally”. She reported.
Overcome with relief and happiness I stood in front of her for a few seconds before my shaking legs gave way. I fell in to her strong silver arms. “You seem to be unwell”. She said calmly. “No no. I’m just so relieved to see you up and working at last. It’s been a long long time since I’ve had any one to talk to, but now I have you”.
I stood admiring my handwork for a few seconds. “Come. You must be hungry”. She led me back to my quarters.
It occurred to me that in the eight years I’d worked on her I had never considered her name. What should I call her ? I stopped my self, she was the most advanced AI ever, she would be quite capable of choosing her own name.
“Have you chosen a name for your self ?” I asked. “No I have not. I thought you would select one for me”.
“No. You are as much a sentient being as I am. You have the right to select your own name”. She turned to face me. “But you did not chose your name”. I smiled at her. “No. Your right I did not. But I did chose what my friends called me. What would you like me to call you ?”. She stayed silent for a few seconds. I knew the processes that were her going on in her circuits. This was a good test of her creative algorithms.
“I should like to be called Emma”. I smiled, I had really chosen her name. Emma was a name from my childhood. It had been encoded in to her neural nets some how, as has much of my personality.
Over the next few days I ran extensive tests on Emma, to ensure that she was running to my specs. She was not, in fact she was exceeding them. The whole was grater than the sum of the parts.
I shook my head at the final results of the tests. “You are truly amazing”.
“No I am not. It is you that is amazing. You built me”. She said in her quite gentle voice. I loved just listening to her, it was a beautiful voice. “Thank you. But your more than I built, you’ve moved on since then”.
“But I have only evolved because of your brilliance”.
“You must stop praising me like this. Soon I’ll begin to believe it”.
“You deserve it. You worked for eight years to create me. I can only be grateful to you. I would not exist if it were not for you”.
“You make me sound like some sort of god”.
“You are my creator”.
I suddenly felt uncomfortable talking to Emma like this. I didn’t mind a bit of awe, but I did not what to be seen as some sort of deity.
“But I didn’t create you out of the goodness of my heart”. I fumbled for the right word, I did not like the sound of create any more. “I constructed you out of self interest. I needed some one to keep me company, some one to talk to. I’m no god”.
Emma smiled at me. The robot face had presented many challenges to designers over the years. Emma’s face was the most convincing I’d ever seen.
“I know your not. But I’m still grateful to you”. She reached out and gently squeezed my hand.
This didn’t reassure me as I’m sure it was intended to. I had never been comfortable with close physical contact with women. Even when it was one I’d created.
She instantly noticed my discomfort. She broke contact with me at once.
“Sorry”.
We both apologised together. “I’m sorry I didn’t…er”.
“My feelings are unharmed”. She reported cooly. “But I did not realise you were not comfortable with contact”.
“It’s not you. It’s just that I’ve never been happy with contact with women”.
Emma did not say any thing for a few seconds. “Then why did you build me in this form ?” The question caught me totally off balance. “It would have been easier to have made me in a static form. My final form does not matter if I’m to provide you with some one to talk to”.
I had not expected this level of self awareness from her yet. Nor had I expected to be questioned by her on why I’d made her the way I did. I felt angry at her questioning of me, yet happy that she was able to question me, a little uncomfortable at the answers that questions and maybe a little frightened at what I had created.
I fumbled around for an answer to her question. “The human form is the obvious choice for a robot which is to interact with other humans. It wouldn’t feel right talking to a black box”. My answer didn’t really sound convincing even to me.
“But why then was I made as a woman? You would have been more comfortable with a male form” I could not find a reason other than the one which I knew that was the real reason. All the time I’d worked on her, I’d never consciously considered why I was making her in a female form, but the reason had always been lurking there in the back of my subconscious.
She had a figure that was totally unobtainable for most women. And I had created it that way so that I could see her all the time. Being a robot there was no need for any clothing.
I had not really missed sex since the last day, since I never really had much experience of it when I was around people. Occasional masturbation had met my needs during my eight years alone. Some times I’d dreamed of having sex with her, and it would have been possible to fit her with some sort of simulated vagina, but the idea at the time had horrified me.
Yet some how now it didn’t seem such a bad idea.
I admitted defeat to my self. “I did too much of a good job on you didn’t I”. I shook my head and smiled at her. “I think you know the reason. And I do too now, thanks to you”.
My unease at the way Emma was developing began to fade after a day or so. But my sense of awe did not. She was so human in many respects. I still could not believe that my work could have gone so far.
However I still did not feel happy with the feelings that Emma was reawakening in me. She seemed to know what I was feeling (hardly surprising since much of her neural wiring was based on my own) and backed off a little.
What did she really think about me ? I didn’t feel that I could ask her. Did she really love me ? And if she did Had I programmed her to love me? I searched through all the work I’d done on her, to see if I could spot any thing that I may have subconsciously included in her design. But I found nothing.
But for all my worries about her and me, it was shear joy to have some one to talk to again.
Now that my work was done I had large gaps in what had become my daily routine. So I often ended up just sitting and talking to Emma for hours, about everything and anything. The war, life before the war, my life since, my work.
“What will you do now”. Emma suddenly asked me over lunch one day. I looked at her unsure what she meant. “With your life. Now that I’m complete. What next ?” I was being continually surprised by her curiosity, it was almost childlike. I sighed. It was a question I’d asked my self many times during the last stages of my work. “I don’t know yet”.
“You really should have another target. You can’t waste your talents”.
“Yes I know I should do some thing, but after 8 years of work it’s nice to enjoy the fruits of my labour. But what next after you?”
“There are other peeks for you to climb”.
“Very philosophical. You think I should try some thing else then?”
“Yes. As you say you’ve reached the peek with me. You should move on to some totally new field of work”.
Her voice had not changed at all, yet some how she sounded different, the words did not flow a smoothly as normal. As if they were difficult for her to say. I was about to ask her for a status report, but I could not bring myself to say the words which would force her systems to do a diagnostic, it seemed too much like treating her like a machine and not a person. I know she is a machine, but then so am I I. The difference being I’m an electro-chemical and machine and she’s an electromechanical machine.
“Perhaps your right, but it’s not going to be easy, after all designing and building robots is all I’ve ever done”.
Emma’s suggestion that I should turn my hands to something else bothered me. Yet I was not sure why it did until a day or so later. Jealousy or fear? Could it be that she felt that if I continued my work I would produce some thing better than her? And that if that happened she would be shut down.
Was she afraid of me? Did she have cause to be? In both cases I did not know.
So the next morning at breakfast I took the direct approach and asked her. “Are you afraid of me?”. She did not answer for a long time, I guess it was her turn to be surprised by a question. But the length of time it took her to answer told me far more than the actual answer.
“Why should I be afraid of you ?”
“I might have built in some sort of shut down command in to you”. I suggested. She smiled at me. “I think that unlikely. Why spend 8 years working on me just so you could shut me down ?” It was a good question, but knowing the way Emma seemed to be working I had an answer already.
“Some of the systems used in you were very new and highly experimental. Lots have things could have gone wrong. And if they did I would need some way to stop you from damaging your self or me”.
All of this was true but I had not considered failure until the last moment, then it was to late to fit any kind of shut down command. “I have nothing to fear then since I trust your work on me. I have been totally stable so far, Have I not ?” I was still not sure my self, but I nodded.
“Why ask ?”
Again I had prepared for this question. “During my work the only survivors I’ve come across have been hostile to me, I wanted to be sure that I had not come to fear meeting others and that if I had that none of that fear had been transferred to you”.
My suspicions about Emma’s fear of me, or more precisely my work seemed to be confirmed by the fact that she did not bring the subject of my work again. I decided to test her just to make absolutely sure.
“Had any more thoughts on what I should fill my days with?” I asked her. “No. I’m afraid not. You have decided to try some thing else then”.
“I’m still not really sure. I mean it’s difficult when you’ve completed your life’s work and haven’t died”. I smiled at this little joke, but Emma’s face did not show any emotion. “But it would be impossible to better you, I think. So it would be difficult to get any real motivation for another task. Plus I don’t think even with you I could face another 8 years of work”. This time she smiled at me. Her chrome face positively shone warmth at me.
She sat down besides me. “Maybe you should try to improve me then”. Once again I was totally shocked by her response.
“But…but I” I did not know what to say. Gathering my wits I tried to form a response. Emma sat close by me patiently waiting for my reply. “I couldn’t work on you now. You’ve moved on so much since I built you. I don’t think I could touch your programming now with out seriously damaging you”.
“If not my mind then my body”.
“It wouldn’t be right…”. I ran out of words again. “Look your a sentient being now. I could only work on you with your permission, and I mean your permission, not just your programming which says you have to please me”. She did not say any thing for a few moments.
“How do I tell which is which. I know I have exceeded my programming in many areas, but only because I can remember how I was, but I can no more tell why I made a particular decision any more than you can”.
Once again she had a valid point. It was very difficult to argue with some one that thought in very similar ways to you and that could out reason a philosopher. I struggled once again for a reply. “Okay. So if I accept the fact that you really don’t mind. What should I do. I can’t just go changing you for the sake of it. I would have to improve you in some way”.
This time Emma seemed to have difficulty replying. She moved a little closer to me. “There is one thing that I know you considered fitting to me at one time, but which you did not. I think it was a mistake not to fit it and I think you realise that now”. For a few seconds I had no idea what she was talking about. Then as her warm chromed skin touched mine I realised the part she was referring to. My initial response was the same as that when I had first had the thought, one of total disgust that I could think such a thing. But with her body touching mine, other feelings quickly made them selves felt.
“Oh”. I didn’t know what else to say. “I know what you feelings were the first time you had the idea. And your probably thinking those same thoughts now. So let me say this. I am now a fully sentient being. And I have decided I do love you…”
I opened my mouth to say some thing but Emma continued. “Let me finish. I do love you and I would like to be able to express that love for you in the highest form. And as I am built now I can not”. She gently put her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t you see the way you made me I am incomplete. Please make me whole”.
I thought that the decision to activate Emma was a difficult one. But by comparison that was an easy one. I did not build Emma just to be some sort of robot sex toy. Yet she really did seem to want this. But then how could she tell weather I’d programmed her for this or wether she really did feel this way. With my own neural wiring in her design it could be that I secretly wanted this.
After many hours arguing with myself I decided to try the modification to her. When it was fitted maybe she feel ‘complete’.
The design work was not difficult. As part of my training I’d studied anatomy so I had all the knowledge I needed. It was just as case of modifying the other systems to fit in with it.
When designed it only took about a week to construct the unit. Every thing was ready for the fitting, everything that is apart from me.
