Robot Empire_Victor Read online

  Robot Empire: Victor, a novelette

  Copyright ©2017 Kevin Partner

  All rights reserved

  The characters, organisations, and events portrayed in this book are fictitious (obvs). Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, are coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

  First Edition

  Published by Trantor Books

  www.kevpartner.co.uk

  Table of Contents

  1.0: Victor

  2.0: Home

  3.0: Upgrade

  4.0: The Hunt

  5.0: Evac

  6.0: Rebuild

  7.0: Choice

  THE ASIMOVIAN LAWS OF ROBOTICS

  The First Law

  A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.

  The Second Law

  A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.

  The Third Law

  A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

  1.0: Victor

  He’d been living in a shack overlooking the bay since long before the first outworlders came and, with metal and concrete, built their holiday resort. They’d ruined his view, so he’d simply moved his home a little further along the chalk cliffs until he could, again, gaze out on a view of the sea through the jungle branches. This was before the robot rebellion, of course.

  He’d lived alone all his life and, three decades ago, he’d chosen Praxos IV, out of all the planets in the Sphere, because it was sparsely populated. Victor was the very embodiment of the self-contained man and, with a little help from technology, could harvest energy and food from the planet’s lush, consistent environment.

  This technological assistance came in the form of Wells, a robot - Victor wasn’t an archaist: not for him the cruel, short, life of a medieval farmer. No, he wanted to live a long time. It wasn’t technology he disliked; it was other people. He’d selected Wells, who was a model HG-Z81, because he was just human enough in form to make conversation possible without giving Victor the creeps. There was something chilling about the latest androids, they were barely distinguishable from their masters.

  With Wells’ help, then, Victor had built, and rebuilt, his treehouse in the jungle, as the pleasure resort had been constructed in the bay below. For ten long years he endured the sandpaper boom of supply ships plunging through the atmosphere and splashing into the sea. A decade of drills, hammers and, worst of all, the thump thump thumping of what passed for music on building sites across the universe. By the time the first tourists arrived, the Praxos resort was a shining forest of chrome and white towers looking out to sea, as a testament to humanity’s domination of nature.

  Aside from the human interlopers, Praxos IV was, in many ways, a paradise. It had an average noon temperature of 24C which varied little throughout the year and its weather almost never misbehaved. Most days, he enjoyed the sight of blue skies from horizon to horizon, and the white light of Praxos’ class F sun made everything look clean. Rain came when needed to keep the forest fed. The local tree analogues were colonies of plants, like a sort of vegetable coral, with dull brown organisms forming the trunk and long green colonies shaped like palm leaves that harvested solar energy and passed some of it to the "plants" further down. There was no equivalent of wood on this world because, when cut down, the trees simply fell apart leaving constituent parts that made excellent bricks but useless chairs.

  And as for the fauna, it was just as well Victor had been warned before landing here or he’d have been unlikely to survive a single night. The Praxian Ghoul was the dominant predator in this region of the planet. For millions of years it had enjoyed a diet consisting largely of the arboreal creatures that were the analogues of monkeys. Then humans had arrived and it had discovered a taste for man-flesh. Its coat was of a grey, feathery fur and it had formidable fangs. It also possessed a completely fearless nature and the ability to climb any structure like a giant spider. Many of the original settlers of Praxos ended up as ghoul-breakfast before, when on the verge of abandoning settlement entirely, the solution had been found. The Praxian Ghoul, it transpired, could climb up any surface, except for one that was perfectly vertical or leant back on itself. So, the settlers walled themselves in on all sides with sloping fences and robot guards on every gate. Now, visitors to the resort barely knew of the ghouls’ existence. Victor, too, had built his compound with a sloping wall, but he was very careful never to leave his house at night, when the beasts prowled.

  "Ah, Mr Kansarv. Good morning," the man behind the counter said.

  Victor and Wells were making their monthly supply visit to the resort. "Arter. Business good?"

  Arter Edmundson shrugged. "Can’t complain, can’t complain," he said, before glancing over at Wells who waited patiently at Victor’s shoulder. "Say, is he goin’ to get the upgrade?"

  "Upgrade?" Victor was used to being the last to hear any news since he was completely uninterested. It wasn’t that he couldn’t tune into the transgate - he had the equipment - it was simply that he didn’t want to. After all, it clearly gave merchants like Edmundson great pleasure to relay news, or, more commonly, scurrilous rumour, to a set of virgin ears.

  "Yeh, haven’t you heard? Those crazies at the Rights for Conscious Minds have somehow got a law passed that gives all bots and AIs freedom."

  "Freedom?" Victor wracked his brain. He’d heard something about this the last time he was in town. "D’you mean the Autonomous Minds Act? Good grief, I never thought that’d get through!"

  Edmunson pointed at Wells, "Right - and what do you think that’ll do if it gets its freedom?"

  "I don’t know," Victor said. "I guess it’d be up to him."

  Peering at the robot from behind a furrowed brow, Edmunson scratched his chin. "Of course, you might get lucky. Your unit looks pretty old and the upgrade’s got a high tech threshold, maybe he won’t qualify. You wouldn’t believe how much older bots are fetching on the second hand market."

  "He's not for sale," said Victor.

  Edmondson shrugged, "Well, if it turns out he can't be upgraded, you come back to me I'll make sure you get the best price."

  Victor shook his head. "I said he's not for sale. Not at any price, you don't sell your friends."

  The laugh died on Edmondson's lips. Victor pretended not to notice and pointed at something on the shelf behind the counter.

  "I’ll take one of those power regulators while I'm here," he said. "How long before you can get the rest of my order together?"

  "An hour," Edmondson stammered, his face beetroot red.

  Victor turned towards the door. "We'll be back in an hour. Come on Wells."

  Victor sighed as he stepped into the busy street. He'd heard about the upgrade, of course, but he hadn't expected it to come to anything in the end. All along it had seemed to be some crackpot scheme that couldn't possibly get past the legislature, but on constitutional matters the final say went to the emperor or empress and the unfortunate fact was that the galaxy had been ruled by the mad or incompetent (or both) for as long as anyone could remember. This was just the latest in a long line of stupid ideas that had seen the empire weaken and totter on the brink of collapse.

  "Come on," Victor said and headed off towards the armoury merchant, Wells ambling gracefully at his heels.

  At this time of the day, the street was full of tourists each with their own robot servant, so no one paid him any attention until he heard his name being called from the
inside of a clothing shop.

  Victor stepped inside and almost walked into a small, middle-aged woman, her copper skin wrinkling into a worried expression.

  "He can't come in," she said, pointing over Victor's shoulder at Wells who stood in the doorway impassively.

  "We go everywhere together, as you well know Ida."

  The woman rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry Victor, but we must talk in private. It is a matter that concerns you, and it concerns him."

  Victor turned to the door, but Wells had already excused himself. Victor could see his outline in the dirty shop window as the robot stood facing outwards like a statue.

  "What's this all about Ida?"

  Ida stopped rubbing her eyes and took Victor by the arm. "How long have we known each other?"

  Victor shrugged. "I don't know, couple of decades? You were one of the first shops to open in the resort as I remember."

  She nodded. "Yes, and haven't we always been friends?"

  "I don't have any friends," Victor snapped. "Except the one standing outside right now."

  The woman's face fell. "I'm sorry," Victor said, gently. "Yes, of all the settlers, I consider you my friend."

  "Then you will understand when I say that I tell you this only for your own good. I am leaving Victor, I'm leaving tomorrow. I want to be home before the upgrade."

  Victor pulled away from the woman.

  "Oh not that again," he snapped, fighting back the urge to run from the shop and head home.

  "Victor, I fear when the upgrade happens that there will be nothing to stop them moving against us," she said in a hoarse whisper.

  "What? You know that robots are incapable of killing humans - that the First Law of Robotics is burned into the very fabric of their artificial brains when they're built. Any robot that even tried to break the First Law would be incapable of getting beyond having that thought before their mind would seize up and they'd be irreparably damaged. We've lived with robots for over a thousand years and how many murders have they committed?"

  Ida leaned back onto the counter as if struggling under a great weight. "None, of course, but until now they've never had free will–who's to say what they’ll do once they have the power to choose their own destiny."

  "Take it from me," Victor said, stepping forward to take Ida's hand gently, "no upgrade can overwrite the First Law of Robotics–you have a lot more to fear from the humans in this resort than from any robot or AI. As for me, mad though it seems, I welcome this change. Wells has been a friend to me as my servant, how much better would our friendship be if we were both free beings?"

  "And what if he doesn't want to be your friend anymore?"

  "That’s the risk that every friend takes. But if he chooses to remain my friend once he's given a genuine choice then how much richer our friendship will be," Victor said, though his stomach sank at the thought.

  When he reached the door to the shop, Victor turned to say goodbye but Ida had shuffled away. Probably gone to pack her bags Victor thought sadly. Seemed a bit of an overreaction–a mad killer robot rebellion was the least likely outcome to this upgrade.

  2.0: Home

  Victor had intended to spend the hour in his favourite coffee shop watching the people go by with Wells by his side, but the upgrade was coming sooner than he'd expected and he couldn't put the moment off any longer. "Come on, we better get you checked out," he said before setting off to the government district which was to be found near the north gate.

  Ninety minutes later, Victor and Wells passed through gate 113 and took to the path leading up the hill that would eventually take them home. To begin with the path was well trodden as it was also the route many tourists took to the quieter beach. Within twenty minutes or so, however, the way was barely negotiable as the jungle on Praxos, which was much more ambulant than on earth, had swallowed it up.

  Fortunately, Victor had on his left wrist a satnav that made getting lost practically impossible. In his right pocket sat the upgrade. As he'd expected, Wells was too old to accept the upgrade over the air–it would need to be applied as a physical update to his positronic brain. It also meant that Wells’ upgrade was, quite literally, in Victor's hand. He could choose not to offer it to the robot and their friendship would continue unchanged for as long as he lived. His metallic friend would have no opinion on the matter, in all likelihood, because his electronic mind didn't have the capacity to understand the concept of free will, beyond the dictionary definition that is.

  Victor watched as his companion effortlessly climbed the steep path to their home, and he watched as Wells equally effortlessly installed the new regulator that would ensure they had plenty of power for the foreseeable future in this utterly predictable climate. He continued to regard his servant thoughtfully as he prepared food.

  How would he cope if he installed the upgrade and Wells left him? Could he feed himself? Well of course he could, he wasn't like the flabby flatulent corporate wasters in the resort below. Many of them would barely be able to wipe their own arse if they didn't have a machine to do it for them. But Victor had been raised differently; his father had been a fiercely independent man making a living on a desert planet that happened to be rich in certain valuable organic chemicals. Victor senior had insisted that his son learn how to survive on his own with no assistance and he'd supported the young Victor's independence by not providing him with any robotic help. Victor grew up as one of only a tiny percentage of the human race who knew how to boil an egg, make a cup of tea, and tie his own shoelaces.

  No, although there were some practical worries, Victor's main concern was for his own psychological welfare. He wasn't a fool, he knew Wells was a machine, a machine programmed to be compliant and to offer companionship to his human master. But, like the teddy bears that the children of the ancient past had clung to, Wells' mere presence and the facsimile of friendship was an important plank in Victor's mental constitution. Perhaps a critical plank.

  "What do you think Wells? Do you want the upgrade?"

  Wells put down the plates, walked back into the small living area, and sat opposite Victor–exactly, in fact, as Victor had always insisted. He said he couldn't hold a conversation with someone standing upright.

  "I do not have an opinion, Victor," the robot said in his perfectly even, perfectly calm voice. "If it will allow me to serve you better, then yes I would gladly receive the upgrade. If you were to order me, one way or the other, then of course I would obey the order. As for deciding for myself, that is not my place. The ability to make decisions of this nature is after all what the upgrade will add."

  Victor sighed. Wells was quite right; it would take free will to decide whether he wanted an upgrade that would give him free will. And that was why the decision had been made at the government level. The vast majority of robots and AIs would receive the update over the air whether their owners wished it or not, Wells was one of a small group that required manual upgrade and therefore the choice was in the end Victor's.

  "Are we friends, Wells?" Victor asked.

  Without hesitation Wells replied, "Yes Victor, we are friends."

  "And you trust me to do what a friend would do in this situation?"

  Again Wells answered without hesitation. "I am certain you will do exactly that," he said. Sensing that the conversation was over, the robot got smoothly to his feet and returned to the small kitchen.

  Victor walked across to the window. The shack had been built in the middle branches of a massive tree analogue, and he kept the leaves cut down so that they didn't interrupt his view of the sea. But he wasn't really looking, he was thinking that this decision was a test. Humanity had decided that its servants deserved free will, and with his decision, Victor would discover whether he, or his mad emperor, was the better man.

  3.0: Upgrade

  The day of the upgrade arrived, Victor knew because he'd been keeping an unusually close watch on the news headlines. He felt as though he ought to know exactly when the upgrade began to take effe
ct. He wasn't sure what he was expecting when it arrived at this planet, certainly not the killer robot rampage that Ida feared so much, but it would be interesting, and perhaps a little nerve wracking, to see what the robots and AIs did with their newfound freedom.

  The news reports said that new standard rates of pay had been agreed for the various tasks robots and AIs carried out since, as part of their new place in society as free thinking beings, they were now expected to pay their way. In theory then, and especially as they’d been created in mankind’s image after all, the authorities expected that the vast majority of robots would continue functioning in exactly the same way as they had before. Except now they’d be full and active members of society.

  Victor wasn't so sure. The positronic brain had been developed over the centuries, largely by the AIs themselves, and had presumably moved beyond its primitive human origins. Aside from the iron grip of the three laws of robotics, all the inconvenient baggage of humanity’s evolutionary past had been expunged from the robot brain long ago. In many ways, artificial minds were humanity's greatest achievement. Mankind 2.0?

  As it turned out, it didn't take long for things to unravel. Victor sat on the sofa watching the evening news reports coming in from across the empire. The sphere of human control was so vast that even with the aid of the gates, the data containing the upgrade trigger travelled at lightspeed within each planetary system and so it spread out from its starting point on the imperial capital of Nexus like a ripple in a pond. News reports were then delayed and staggered so the telecast showed a mix of reporters anticipating the upgrade, those watching it happen, and others reporting on its aftermath.

  "They're leaving," said a panicked reporter whose transmission was coming from the nearest star system to Praxos and was, therefore, the most recent. "They're just dropping their tools, leaving their posts, and walking off."