Robotica
by
Kal Cobalt
Circlet Press, Inc.
Cambridge, MA
Robotica
Copyright © 2009 by Kal Cobalt
All Rights Reserved
Published in ebook form by Circlet Press, Inc.
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For Clancy
Contents
Introduction
Charlie
The Sex Drive
Agrathia's Freedom
Star Fucker
Survival-Compatible
Acknowledgments
About the Author
“One point a friend made to me was that there will be people who say, 'Oh, you're only a robot.' But I also think there will be people who take the view, 'Oh, you're only a human.'”—Stephen Levy
Introduction
It seems odd that in a post-Matrix, techno-dance-club-infested world, robotica should still feel so forbidden. Everything from Blade Runner to Terminator has made robots of various stripes sultry, darkly alluring, or outlandishly attractive. What's so frightening about taking the next step and explicitly admitting our interest in robot sex?
Maybe it's because robot sex seems very limited at first; it's not much of a leap to imagine that our forays into artificial intelligence will eventually result in an intelligence like the one in “Charlie,” discovering what sexuality means for itself. Or maybe it's because our iPhones hang on a regular basis and our routers need to be rebooted every so often, so we fear throwing sex into the mix lest something go awry, as it does in “The Sex Drive.” Maybe we fear discovering that truly “cyber” sex is something only spaceships and androids like those in “Agrathia's Freedom” understand. Or it could be worry over the sudden need to reality-test everything, lest the line between robot and human become blurred as it does in “Star Fucker.” But maybe, deep down, we're afraid that robot sexuality will change us, in irrevocable ways we can't comprehend, as we are made “Survival-Compatible.”
I hope you enjoy these stories. They were made to titillate, challenge, spook, expand, and niggle—at least, that's what writing them has done for me. These stories have challenged my preconceptions, freed my mind, caused me nightmares, given me new jerk-off material, and helped me feel a little closer to the mysteries of sex and circuitry. I hope you discover some of the same.
Yours in zeroes and ones,
Kal Cobalt
Charlie
Deep inside the empty, automated-security hallways of the American Industries Artificial Intelligence Lab, Nate didn't bother removing his earbuds. He could swipe his ID card and hold still for retinal scans without disturbing his morning dose of techno, and there was no better way to begin a long day at AI-AI than nodding along to thudding electronic beats.
A heavy hand on his shoulder made Nate jump and he nearly crashed into the nearest wall. Heart pounding, he tugged out his earbuds, shaking his head at the nervous tech who'd taken a step back. “You scared the fuck out of me!”
“Sorry, Nate. It's just that Dr. Owen wants to see you.”
“Okay. Tell him I'll be there right after I say hello to Charlie.”
The tech bit his lip. “He wants to see you first thing. Before Charlie.”
Nate nodded, frowning. Dr. Owen didn't run on anyone's schedule but his own; that he'd be so specific worried Nate. He followed the tech back through an entirely different maze of hallways, one far more predicated on swipe-card technology than the more expensive, exclusive retinal scans—these were the bureaucrat digs, where suits held court rather than lab coats.
In the conference room, the half-dozen men who comprised the board—or, as Nate and Dr. Owen privately called them, "the bored"—were already seated at a massive conference table, the kind of thing Nate automatically categorized as a big-business sacrificial altar. "Good morning, Nathan," Dr. Owen said, squeezing Nate's upper arm in a gesture Nate suspected was meant to comfort but only caused him to break into a cold sweat.
"Good morning. What's all this about?"
"The board has some... questions regarding your work with Charlie." Dr. Owen offered a regretful little look, one Nate recognized as the sorry I couldn't warn you, kid expression.
"Sure," Nate agreed with false cheeriness, pocketing his earbuds in a belated attempt to appear more professional. "What can I tell you gentlemen before my second latte?"
A couple of men cracked a smile at the joke; the rest remained impassive. Nate smiled superficially as his stomach hollowed. This was not a good crowd, and that was not a good sign.
"The board has reviewed the data streams from your past few sessions," Dr. Owen explained. "They're somewhat concerned about the content."
"Okay." Nate slid into the closest empty chair, though he hated meeting these men at their level. "What exactly are you concerned about?"
The pudgy one at the head of the table cleared his throat. "We're concerned about the territory you're covering."
"Why? The policy from the very beginning requires that Charlie receive any personal information he asks for. We're his test subjects as much as he is ours, and we all need valid, truthful data to work from. Right, Dr. Owen?"
Dr. Owen nodded curtly. "Right."
"But you understand why we are concerned about the matters you've covered of late," Pudgy said.
"No, really, I don't. To Charlie, sexuality is just another currently incomprehensible human behavior. It's perfectly normal data-mining."
"But you can understand the potential bind this puts us in," Pudgy insisted.
"I wish you'd stop telling me what I understand. No, I don't see that, either."
Pudgy gazed at Nate for a few uncomfortable moments, then winced and nodded at Dr. Owen. "Perhaps it's better for you to explain."
"Perhaps it is," Nate interjected. "I don't speak bureaucrat."
Dr. Owen made the familiar one-handed double-pat of the air, accompanied by a little shake of the head, that Nate had seen at least once daily during his apprenticeship. "They think this discussion may have influenced Charlie unduly—that the information you provided could have skewed his research interests toward a nonstandard demographic."
Nate tilted his head, fascinated well beyond the implied rebuke. "Charlie's developed an interest in homosexuality?"
"You could say that," Pudgy snorted.
"What's that supposed to mean?”
Dr. Owen laced his fingers together, resting his elbows on the smooth surface of the conference table. "Charlie has declared that he is homosexual."
Nate blinked, blinked again, then grinned. "That's fantastic."
"Why is that fantastic?" a tall, slender man at the head of the table asked, the repulsion in his tone ill-hidden.
"Sexuality isn't exactly an easy thing to translate to AI. If he's internalized it to that extent, that's pretty exciting, and it says a lot about the state of his quest for self-humanity."
"The problem," Slim explained slowly, "is that his sexuality, if that is indeed what he has developed, was unduly influenced by the fact that his human-behaviors trainer is homosexual. Charlie was not given the opportunity to explore more standard demographics."
Nate shook his head. "That's bullshit."
Slim's eyebrows went almost all the way up to the edge of his poorly-implanted hair plugs. "Excuse me?"
"You're all missing the point. Even if I went in there and somehow magically 'made' him gay, that would be pretty damn exciting. He's a machine, he's an AI who's decided he has a preference about how he relates to human beings. Do you remember back when an AI declaring a preference, any preference, was cause to break out the champagne?"
"Yes," Dr. Owen said fondly. "And it was not so long ago. But unduly influencing those preferences is certainly possible at this point."
"Dr. Owen, I didn't tell Charlie to be gay. You all have the data streams. You saw what we talked about. I answered his questions as dictated in the behavior policy. Why should sexuality be treated any differently than the other aspects of humanity? Nobody batted an eyelash when he took three days to get over discovering the concept of death."
"Death," Dr. Owen smirked, his eyes on Pudgy, "is not controversial."
Nate couldn't help but smile; whatever side Dr. Owen had to present to the board, Nate knew they remained privately aligned. "The prejudice against sexuality is strictly human, not a predicate of AI. It's illogical: we're against what's been genetically programmed into us as an imperative, the most pleasurable activity our circuits can enact. Any self-respecting AI, pardon the expression, would turn its nose up at such a stupid paradigm."
"What do you recommend at this point?" Dr. Owen asked.
"I don't think we really have a choice. He's self-programming. Even if we tried to put the brakes on him now, we probably couldn't."
Dr. Owen glanced around the table, then shrugged. "It's my recommendation, too. I understand the board's concerns, but we've spent a lot of time reassuring Charlie that the rules for data-mining human nature are solid and logical, even if the information he uncovers is neither. Disrupting that assurance at this point in Charlie's development could have very unfortunate consequences."
Pudgy sighed. "This can't get out of hand."
"It won't," Dr. Owen assured. "Not with Nathan in charge of it."
* * * *