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Roz felt something like curiosity. She was curious about the warm ball of light shining down from above. So her computer brain went to work, and she identified the light. It was the sun.
Roz could feel her Survival Instincts—the part of her computer brain that made her want to avoid danger and take care of herself so she could continue functioning properly.
The island was teeming with life. And now it had a new kind of life. A strange kind of life. Artificial life.
As the robot looked out at the island, it never even occurred to her that she might not belong there. As far as Roz knew, she was home.
Clearly, the animals were experts at survival. Clearly, the robot was not.
And to make matters worse, bears have an instinct that drives them to attack when a creature runs away, especially if the creature running away is a mysterious, sparkling monster.
Wouldn’t you be afraid if two bears were charging toward you? Of course you would! Everyone would! Even the robot felt something like fear. Roz was programmed to take care of herself. She was programmed to stay alive. And as the robot watched those bears charging toward her, she knew her life was in serious danger.
The robot’s programming stopped her from being violent, but nothing stopped her from being annoying. So Roz plucked pinecones from the nearby branches and lobbed them down at the bears.
Roz wandered the island, covered in dirt and green growing things, and everywhere she went, she heard unfriendly words. The words would have made most creatures quite sad, but as you know, robots don’t feel emotions, and in these moments that was probably for the best.
something clicked deep inside her computer brain. Roz realized she had caused the deaths of an entire family of geese.
Roz knew that some animals had to die for others to live. That was how the wilderness worked.
and she felt something like happiness that her son had made such a good friend.
“No, I have always been this size.” Roz looked down at her weathered body. “However, I used to be shiny, like the surface of the pond. I used to stand straighter than a tree trunk. I used to speak a different language. I have not grown bigger, but I have changed very much.”
“What do you mean, you’re not alive?” squawked Brightbill. “It is true,” said Roz. “I am not an animal. I do not eat or breathe. I am not alive.” “You move and talk and think, Mama. You’re definitely alive.”
“This thing used to look like you?” said Brightbill. “Yes, we are the same type of robot,” said Roz. “And now this robot is dead?” “In a way.” “Will you ever die, Mama?” “I think so.” “Will I die?”
“All living things die eventually.”
“You were out for a few minutes,” said the gosling as he hugged his mother. “But it seemed like forever to me.”
“Those are your instincts,” said the robot. “All animals have instincts. They help you survive.” “Do you have instincts?” said the gosling. “I do have instincts. They help me survive also.”
Reader, it must seem impossible that our robot could have changed so much. Maybe the RECOs were right. Maybe Roz really was defective, and some glitch in her programming had caused her to accidentally become a wild robot. Or maybe Roz was designed to think and learn and change; she had simply done those things better than anyone could have imagined.
