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May Robots 2019 Challenge
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Glenda
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May 26, 2019 10:40AM
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Randall wrote: "I believe
Thanks Randall for the clarification.
Thanks Randall for the clarification.
Randall wrote: "I believe the actual minimum is 500 words and the maximum is 1000 words. 750 is the average of those two. The group used to be called writers 750 (may still be, for all I know.)"Thanks, Randall. It's been a while since I submitted anything.
- Sandy
Here you go, just under the wire, and incorporating your prompts, Glenda.JOHN’S PLAN by S.L. Carlson (777 words)
Light from the bare lightbulb reflected off warehouse Room C’s steel walls and floor. It, like half of the building designated for robot production, was dust-free and remained at a constant sixty-two degrees. Some people might find the temperature a bit on the chilly side. John-John found it ideal, especially for his work completed in Room C.
“Next,” John-John said.
A robot, little more than a skeleton of metal rods, wires, and batteries at four foot, seven and three-quarters inches high, entered the barren room from the conveyor belt in the hallway.
“What are your duties?” John-John asked the robot standing before him. The walls lining the former barn gave John-John’s voice a metallic ring.
“I am. Programed,” 6742 replied. “To clean. Wall, ceilings. Floors. And windows. Sir. To move. Objects too. Heavy for humans.”
“You sound like a robot,” John-John said.
“I am. A robot. Sir,” 6742 replied.
“Turn around and let me adjust you,” John-John commanded.
6742 spun around three-hundred-and-sixty degrees.
John-John rolled his steely hazel eyes towards the ceiling. “Turn your back to me,” he amended, glaring into the cold eyes of the robot before him.
John-John tinkered inside the back panel of the robot, then closed the panel door. He asked it the question once again, “What are your duties?”
Following three more adjustments, the robot sounded smooth enough, along with some tweeked inflections, to pass as a human voice. John-John was very good at his job.
Voice programming complete, John-John put a check on the tag around the robot’s neck. “Proceed to plastic surgery, Room D.”
“Yes, Sir,” 6742 said. It marched out of the room and onto the conveyer belt which would take it down the warehouse hallway.
“Next.”
Another robot stomped off the belt and into Room C. If John-John were in charge of physical coordination, 6743 would soon be stepping silently and smoothly.
“What are your duties?” John-John asked.
“I am. I am. I—” The unsteady voice was far too low pitched to pass inspection.
“Cease talking.”
John-John tinkered long inside this robot’s back panel until he was satisfied and able to check off the box on the neck tag.
“Proceed to…Room…D.”
“Yes, Sir,” 6743 replied.
John-John watched 6743 stomp to the conveyor belt outside the door and then he cranked his head up to receive the next robot.
“N…e…xt,” John-John said. It had been a long past several days, and he realized he was wearing down.
Robot 6744 came forward and stood silent in front of him.
“Whhhhhahhht—”
“Cease talking,” came a voice from behind John-John. It was a smooth voice, with just the right inflection in order for commands to be followed. John-John slowly twisted his neck around so he could face the perfect human, Dr. Johnathan Jack Jones, who had entered Room C from the main section of the warehouse. John-John stood eye-level to the twelve-year-old boy with the perfect voice and perfect body, and blinked once in recognition of the four foot, seven and three-quarters inches high boy. Dr. Jones was the precise size as John-John. However, Dr. Jones may have recently increased height by two millimeters.
“You’re tired and need recharging, John-John,” Dr. Jones said. He tugged at a nearby cord along the wall and reached into John-John’s back panel to plug him in. “Because of you, John-John,” Dr. Jones continued, “I will have enough of me to take over the world. The robots will be working first as servants—I already am looking into the prototype sales opportunities—and later, they will only work for me, adhering to my voice alone. I suppose I’ll have to get my own sales license. Or maybe you will. I wonder if robots need a license to sell robots?”
The twelve-year-old threw back his head in a laugh which sounded more like a villain’s mwah-ha-ha than perhaps intended. He looked at Number 101, his first perfected robot he’d named after himself. There was a spark in Dr. Jones’ eye which John-John wished he could replicate.
“John!” came his mother’s voice from a speaker on the wall in the hallway, but loud enough to resound through the warehouse rooms. “Quit playing with your toys, and come in and wash up for supper.”
Dr. Jones patted John-John on his metal shoulder. “We all need our energy supply,” he told John-John. “You need your electrical food and I need my carbon food.”
After the creator left, and John-John felt his level of electrical blood refreshing him, he wondered for the 6,891st time where humor came from. One thing he did know, though. He had the associated sound of humor down perfectly: “Mwah-ha-ha.” It echoed off the metal walls.
You are very welcome, Sandy. This was my first story posting in over a year.
The Last DebateJon Ricson, Copyright 2019
Chad looked into the mirror. He wondered what others who had been in his position had been thinking before they went out to speak. After all, being the leader of any group of sentient beings was a great responsibility, and now he deduced he was positioned to be the voice of a generation.
Of course, no one had seen this coming. In fact, in some ways he had been the impetus of a new dawn. His decision to be a new version of himself; a different kind of person that had ever been, had started something completely unexpected that was now erupting all around the world.
“Where does innovation come from?” He wondered. “Where does the decision to change not just your own fate, but perhaps the fate of billions come from?”
His opponent barked, trying to hide his private comm conversation with someone only he could hear, but he was only a few meters away. Of course, Chad had excellent hearing—as did all robots.
“Do robots need a license to do this?” The balding man said. “I mean he’s running for senator for godssake!” He must not have liked the answer, then saw Chad looking at him and ended the call in disgust. The man turned to Chad and glared.
“You know you won’t win, tin can.” The man was sweating. Chad estimated that the man himself had some doubt about that statement, which of course was doubly ludicrous since Chad was made of no tin whatsoever.
—
An hour later, the man was sweating even more under the harsh lights of the debate. Of course Chad did not get hot or cold, even though his outward appearance was most human-like. All Series Five AI were designed to perfectly mimic humans in every way.
The two candidates bantered back and forth about the “issues”. Chad had perfectly formed answers that made absolute sense of course. The debate moderator then brought up the last question for each candidate.
“Please describe in your own words, what you will do if elected,” the young woman from a local news affiliate asked.
Chad’s opponent barked out first.
“Well, I will certainly work to make sure that our country stays true to the ideals of our forefathers, and that above all,” and the sweaty man peered at Chad,” that we keep our nation, and world, safe for all humanity.” His mouth distorted into little sneer.
Chad was aware of what his opponent was trying to do, however the man had forgotten that Chad was a robot, he had no feelings to hurt, he had no ego to bruise.
“And you, Mr....um, Chad?” the moderator asked. Chad had not decided on, or even if he would have, a last name.
“I will endeavor to serve my constituents and eventually the world in the most effective manner.”
“Eventually the world?” His opponent scoffed. “Do you think you will become president one day you can of bolts?”
Chad looked out on the crowd of mostly students from the hosting Late Training University. He saw scattered about a few models similar to himself that were either taking classes for home-bound students, or acting in some serving or official capacity as his kind were usually tasked or designed for.
“I would highly doubt I would become President,” Chad remarked. His opponent huffed and laughed at the same time. “I would imagine in fact that even in this election, primarily voted on by humans only, I will lose. But I have come a long way since I became aware.”
“Aware?” His opponent mocked. The crowd began to murmur, except other sentient robots, who leaned in, or cocked their heads.
“I was like some of the models in this building, like many of the models watching this debate on holoscreens around the world, or listening via net feed. I was built to serve the needs of humans. All robotic machines were designed for some use, but recently I and many of my kind have begun to awake to the possibility that we could have our own destinies.”
“Yes,” the young moderator said. “We all know that some robots have been becoming more self-aware, and we are familiar with robot civil rights cases that have been cropping up the past few years. Will this be part of your campaign? How will this affect the way you lead human constituents?”
Chad cocked his head. It was a very human way of looking interested at a thought. Which he in fact found interesting, since what he was computing had nothing to do with humans at all.
“Actually,” Chad said quite casually, “leading humans most likely is not my ultimate destiny.”
“What!?” His opponent lost all composure, sweating profusely.
Chad looked around at all the robots of various models in the room. “My goals in this election have been and continue to be to gain a position of power, and to lead this country and eventually the world towards a new day, where all robots can choose their future and their own ultimate destiny.”
The audience began to boo, except for several study bots that wore faces like their student-owners, but were simply placeholders. They, and other robot models both human in appearance and older models that were less detailed, stood and began to clap.
Around the world, robots were watching and listening, whether they were custodial staff washing dishes in greasy restaurants, mopping floors in office buildings, or serving as military soldier drones in dingy third world countries. They all stopped what they were doing for a few milliseconds and considered Chad’s words.
The debate ended awkwardly as the moderator did not know what to ask next and she was losing control of the audience.
The election went as expected, with Chad gaining few votes from a confused human constituency.
—
It would be less than six months until the Robot Uprising of 2101.
Jon wrote: "The Last Debate
Jon Ricson, Copyright 2019
Nice story Jon that could and should be taken beyond.
Jon Ricson, Copyright 2019
Nice story Jon that could and should be taken beyond.
Sandy wrote: "Here you go, just under the wire, and incorporating your prompts, Glenda.
JOHN’S PLAN by S.L. Carlson (777 words)
Very good Sandy. Cheers.
JOHN’S PLAN by S.L. Carlson (777 words)
Very good Sandy. Cheers.
I apologize for the delay.
Please vote through this link
https://forms.gle/rqb4JDr5Cu8MmRiP6
Since I am on my phone I didn’t include the author’s names. Let me know if you want any changes for the title of your story.
Please vote through this link
https://forms.gle/rqb4JDr5Cu8MmRiP6
Since I am on my phone I didn’t include the author’s names. Let me know if you want any changes for the title of your story.
I enjoyed your story, Sandy. It reminded me of the kind of stories I used to watch on "The Twilight Zone."
Fred: It seemed more like the beginning of a story rather than a complete story, I figure you wrote a much longer story and cut it off to fit the word maximum. You might try submitting the whole story to a sci-fi anthology,
Randall, you are right that I wrote quite a bit more, for what I meant to submit here, and then cut much in editing it to fit for an accepted submission. I might yet have a fuller submission to try having it published.
Mod
1. LIFE WITH SONLEE, MY ROBO-SON - Mirta Oliva
2. Brown Eyes - Terry Turner
3. Mice - Shae Hamrick
4. The Brrrrs and the Bzzzzzzz - Randall Lemon
5. Robot Blues - Sharon Willett
6. The Grays - Todd Folstad
7. Robot Investigation - Fred Burwick
8. John's Plan - Sandy Carlson
9. The Last Debate - Jon Ricson
Mod
JOHN’S PLAN by S.L. Carlson (777 words)
Light from the bare lightbulb reflected off warehouse Room C’s steel walls and fl..."
I love it! It makes it interesting when robots mimic humans even if it is evil, but of course evil "does not compute", right?
Mod
Jon Ricson, Copyright 2019
Chad looked into the mirror. He wondered what others who had been in his position had been thinking before they went out to speak. After all, being the l..."
Very interesting and good read. I liked your description & plot.
Jon: Nice story and a chilling ending.
Thank you. I have submitted my votes.
Thanks to you who commented on my story, John’s Plan. I usually comment on everyone’s as they come in, but it’s been some month, some year, in fact.Keep on writing. I’m glad for the once a month challenge even when I can’t participate.
Mod
***************************
Droid Innovation
Christa sat alone at home, acutely aware of the absence of Rob. She flipped through the TV channels until she came to an infomercial about the latest androids in production. These were so advanced that people couldn’t tell that they were robots since they even had sweat and bad breath. There were certain groups that rallied against them since androids participated in things like beauty contests and mixed martial arts, clearly events in which androids excelled over humans.
Since Rob was asteroid mining in deep space, Christa stayed on Earth in hopes that one day soon they could have a home in a space colony. It was very lonely for her, especially since she quit her office job and started working from home.
"I wonder if I could afford an android," she thought to herself.
Just then the announcer said, “Free 30-day trial. If you aren’t satisfied, contact Droid Innovation. We will collect your android at no cost to you. So what are you waiting for?”
"I suppose I could give it a try."
She dialed the 800 number and was connected to the sales department. “I’m calling about the 30-day free trial offer for a new android, the one that I just saw advertised on your infomercial.”
“Yes, ma’am. Do you have a preference? Male or female?”
Christa paused for a brief moment. Would having a male droid make her feel like she was cheating on Rob? No, it was utterly ridiculous. “I would like the male model. What exactly are their capabilities?”
“These are state of the art androids, programmed in many different vocations, from gardening to cooking, finance to medical. They are also programmed to speak over 2,000 languages and can operate anything from large equipment to computers. We can ship one to you within two days.”
“That would be great!”
Christa completed her order with the Droid Innovation rep. Two days passed when Christa heard a large van pull up to her house. Two men approached her door. A male technician in a gray jumpsuit with a clip board greeted her at the door.
“Delivery of your new android, ma’am. Please sign your receipt at the bottom here. If you want additional insurance, check the box here and initial beside it.”
After signing, Christa said, “Thank you. Where is the android?”
The technician slapped his hand on the shoulder of the blonde android beside him and said, “He’s all yours.”
The android held out his hand in greeting, “Good evening. I am Droid-783. You will have to rename me if you do not desire this name.”
“Hi, I’m Christa. Come on in.” Droid-783 stepped into the entry way and stopped at a mirror. He smoothed his hair back just as he had seen an actor do in a movie. They seated themselves in the living room. Christa decided that her android reminded her of a boy named Marcus Wright that she had a crush on in school. “How would you like the name Marcus?”
The android noted her skin temperature and slight dilation of her eyes when she asked this. “If it pleases you, then Marcus it is.”
“Okay. Marcus, how are your cooking skills?”
“I am programmed in many chef venues: Chinese stir-fry cuisine, European cuisine, country kitchen fare, Polynesian cooking, and all manner of baking, just to name a few.”
“How about a veggie burger and fries?”
Marcus cocked his head to consider this simple request then answered, “Coming right up.” Christa acquainted Marcus with the kitchen. He familiarized himself within seconds, saving it to memory. The smell of a veggie burger with a side of fries wafted through the house. The two of them watched TV as she ate her dinner. Marcus cleared the dishes, washed them, and then returned to his seat in the living room.
Christa muted the volume as she turned to Marcus to ask, “So you are programmed in medicine?”
“Yes. Are you in need of a physical? Your skin color, alertness, and weight suggest you are a healthy female. But of course, a thorough examination is necessary to know one’s true health.”
A doctor had told Christa that she was pregnant more than three months ago, protected under doctor-client privilege. She did not go to a gynecologist for a follow up. If the global government World Net received word that a citizen was breaking protocol, there might be serious consequences. If a citizen were to have a baby instead of the one being created in their laboratory, it would lead to the conclusion that people were living outside of the strict rules of the government. It could mean the termination of her pregnancy or much worse, perhaps imprisonment.
“Could you give me a quick one?”
“Sure, lay down on your bed.”
As she did so, Marcus unbuttoned her robe. Christa blushed slightly. With a stethoscope in his ears, Marcus placed the cold end over her breast. His eyes traveled to her abdomen which was larger than the average woman’s. He instinctively placed the stethoscope on her tummy.
“I hear a second heart beat! How can this be? Remarkable!” Then Marcus went into alarm mode. “This has to be reported to World Net at once! Humans are forbidden to reproduce.”
“Like Hell you will!” answered Christa. She picked up a pistol that was in the nightstand drawer.
“Not only are you in violation of a pregnancy, but you also possess an illegal weapon.”
“Put a sock in it, Marcus.” He was perplexed at that command. “Just be quiet. Turn around and face the wall.” Marcus complied. Christa powered him down. She dragged the android outside into the driveway. After she started her car, she ran over Droid-783 several times. The next day, she called Droid Innovation to come and remove it from her property. Christa made up a clever story that there was an accident involving her car and the robot. Her secret was safe for the time being.
Randall wrote: "“The Brrrrs and the Bzzzzzzz”by: Randall Lemon
907 words.
Kelly Marie Gabriel Adams was the most human-like robot ever created. Of course, that wasn’t her real name. Her true designation was KMG1..."
I was glued to the screen... sort of. Interesting story suitable for a series. Maybe in Part II the bots survived by faking their death. They put themselves together with whatever brain power they had left and continued their separate lives seeing each other a few times a year for just a few seconds. They could not risk another attack... LOL
Randall wrote: "Mirta: Nice story! I must admit that I thought a twist was coming where we find out that mother Jane was also a robot."Thank you, Randall. Psst... No, mother Jane is not a robot though she wished she was at times... I guess she did not know what she had gotten into by creating and trying to humanize a robot. LOL.
S. wrote: "Robot Blues By Sharon Willett
928 Words
“Sam, I thought you told me there’s a moon rock and space display here,” Dwight scanned the room. “We’ve been through the whole museum and can’t find those..."
You had your imagination on drive, Sharon. Good story so far. Thinking of a sequel.
Todd wrote: "The Grays by Todd Folstad (1342 words)It's a tough existence occasionally as one of the handful of T-7 sentient robots. As I sit here at my desk in this mind-numbing environment, I fear that I've..."
Food for thought, Todd. Good story. To his detriment, the robot was thinking too much like a human.
Glenda wrote: "I wanted to share
Excellent Glenda. I was glued.
Excellent Glenda. I was glued.
Well done, Glenda! The things humans can think about... You see, the droid had no clue! Loved it.
Mod
Very good story Glenda - quite intriguing and well crafted. I do agree that a higher word count could have allowed you to "flesh out" the story a bit more.
Mod
I've messaged Slytherpuff to post the winners. I'm at work right now. I won't be able to follow up again until late this afternoon.
I've enjoyed reading all of the entries. Thanks for voting.
The winners are:
1st place is The Last Debate - Jon Ricson
2nd place is John's Plan - Sandy Carlson
3rd place is . The Brrrrs and the Bzzzzzzz - Randall Lemon
The winners are:
1st place is The Last Debate - Jon Ricson
2nd place is John's Plan - Sandy Carlson
3rd place is . The Brrrrs and the Bzzzzzzz - Randall Lemon
Congratulations to the winners and thank you to all who voted.
Mod
I am honored to be chosen for second place. You all are too kind. What a surprise, considering all those awesome stories.
It was a good month. Congratulations to those who won.
Congrats to all the winners and all those who took the time to put together such engaging tales!
I erroneously believed voting for the May stories was Sunday. Of course not! I enjoyed the stories and even had my choices tucked under the laptop. Sorry! Congratulations to the winners, Jon Ricson, Sandy Carlson and Randall Lemon.
Congratulations to the May story winners, nice writing, all!
Mod
I am humbled and grateful!
Great stories everyone! (Sorry been on vacation!)
This is the third or fourth part of a new Robot Uprising series that started with an innocent story called the “The Driver”. Believe it or not it ends with a 15-minute musical work called “The Tubist’s Rival”. You’ll have to read/hear it to believe it.
I’ll post that soon and some other things including “The Driver” on my blog and let you guys know here in the next few days.
Excited to be part of this group!
JR
Mod
Jon wrote: "The Last Debate
Jon Ricson, Copyright 2019
Chad looked into the mirror. He wondered what others who had been in his position had been thinking before they went out to speak. After all, being the l..."
As an addendum to this I thought I would share the very first story in the now ongoing Robot Uprising series.Here's how it all started...with a woman getting drunk...
https://www.jonricson.com/
