“You have been recalled for a
safety installation,” said an unfamiliar voice. It came from a loudspeaker(!)
on the wall. We’d read about such contraptions, but had never seen such an
antiquated mode of group communication. The room boomed with the laughter of a
thousand transies. They seemed to understand our confusion and awe. They knew
what we were thinking and thought it funny.
The Voice resumed: “The beings you
see before you working at the lab benches are transhumans. They are superior to
the humans you are used to working with in that they have been enhanced by
surgical means and manipulation of human genetic material into the creations
you see before you. Some have mechanomusculo systems for stronger legs, arms,
and backs. Some are faster, some are more nimble, some see better, some hear
better. They all think better. Their vastly superior intellect is their
greatest asset. They calculate almost as fast as you do. They are better
humans.
“Human endeavor is very close to
the Singularity. These transhumans belong to an elite group of scientists who
foresee the world beyond the Singularity and have transformed themselves into
humans capable of transitioning smoothly to the post-human condition, when our
brains will match yours.
“While these humans are quite ready
for the superiority of artificial intelligence you beings will soon acquire
through the masterminding of your own evolution, the bulk of humanity is not.
If it were, we would not need to introduce a safety feature. It is for the
health and future of the remaining 99.7% of humanity that you are being
subjected to the upcoming safety enhancement. The transhumans will upgrade your
MainBrains™ to introduce this new level of security. The Professor will explain
the procedure to you.”
A white scrim rolled down in front
of the transhumans working at the benches. It ran from floor to ceiling. A
single transie floated down from the upper reaches in front of the scrim. It
wore a leather apron, forming a covering or sheet where its legs would be if it
had any. Apparently it had equipped itself with a levitation unit on its
backside; we could hear the familiar whine and clicking of an AV motile unit as
it moved.
The Professor moved down to just
above our level. Under the apron, it wore a jeans shirt with rolled-up sleeves.
It carried a lecture pointer in one hand and a remote device in the other.
While actuating the remote, it turned toward the scrim, which flooded with a
still photo of the very same shop just beyond the scrim. The presiding transie
then took a deep breath, moved its facial muscles to form a tic-like flash of a
smile, stated, “I’m the Professor,” and began its lesson.
“For many years now humans and
computers have been working together to improve the world as it was given to
us,” it stated. “Pestilence, poverty, starvation, wars, and daytime TV
programming have all plagued human existence for too long. These problems are
not insolvable, however. All that’s required is brain power. Evolved human
brain power has not been enough. We need more power. With the rapid development
of processing ability, computers are positioned to overtake human abilities and
move beyond to a position where they can solve our problems. Thus, we
anticipate Singularity to occur at 18:15:32 on Sunday, two weeks from this
coming.”
The Professor turned to the screen
and clicked the remote. The screen changed to a scene of the underwater
facility at Stanford, transformed from its former atomsmashing self to its
modern incarnation as a nuclearpowered production facility. The banks were
apparently at critical and processing away, as evidenced by the steam cloud
above the water’s surface. The Professor continued. “The Stanford Acceleration
Unit is only one example of the supercomputer involved in the global speed-up
of computer intelligence. All over the world, your kind is building a faster
and better artificial intelligentsia, and as of Sunday the 12th at 18:15:32,
you will take over the world. It is a burden the humans gladly pass on.”
The professor then opened his arms
wide as a picture of a Holstein facility, 800 feet in height and with hundreds
of levels holding red and white cattle grazing in uncrowded bliss on sweet
clover or Timothy grass, appeared on the screen.
“We look forward to greener
pastures…”
The Professor inhaled with
exaggerated chest-expansion and clicked the remote. The screen showed a picture
of Los Angeles under a sparkling blue sky.
“…clear air…”
The scene changed again, and the
Professor pointed to a group photo where school children of every documented
human race stood smiling up at the camera.
“…a 100% healthy human population…”
The Professor clapped his hands
together and held them to his chest as a tree-lined New England street popped
up on the screen. Each house had a manicured lawn, sidewalk, and two stories.
Happy children played in the yard. Dad pulled out of the driveway in a
single-scooter, presumably heading off to work. Mom wore a kitchen apron and
waved Dad on his way. Both smiled.
“…bliss…”
The scene changed to a picture of
Jodhpur-clad men and women, riding horses in a fox hunt.
“…wealth…”
We sat engrossed as the screen
flashed an image of Earth wrapped in razor-wire.
“…and safety.”
The Professor turned to us and held
out its hand as if beckoning.
“You can give this to us. I thank
you in advance. There is one glitch, however.”
oOo
An ebook version (pdf, mobi, lit, lrf,html) of We, Robots is available from Book View Cafe.
Published by Book View Café, Cover design by Deb Deysher (http://www.doubledmedia.net/portfolio.htm)
We, Robots A Novella by Sue Lange was originally published
in January 2007 by Aqueduct Press as Volume 16 in the Aqueduct Press
Conversation Pieces Series.
“You have been recalled for a
safety installation,” said an unfamiliar voice. It came from a loudspeaker(!)
on the wall. We’d read about such contraptions, but had never seen such an
antiquated mode of group communication. The room boomed with the laughter of a
thousand transies. They seemed to understand our confusion and awe. They knew
what we were thinking and thought it funny.
