David Ring III - Stanley Duncan's Robot

The front door of the condominium complex loomed like a gateway to a darker dimension. Stanley and Dan were waiting there, dressed in their winter clothes. Stanley wore a matching green hat and scarf, which concealed much of his face, as well as a dark peacoat. His newly built cane pressed against the ground; it was slightly heavy, but it gave him a small sense of confidence knowing he could fend off an attacker. Dan was dressed similarly, except with blue accoutrements — and no cane. Stanley had thought about making him a weapon, but that was a discussion they would have on another day.

A sense of dread filled Stanley as he raised his hand to open the door. He couldn’t go back, he told himself — he had to do this for Dan. He would make it a short trip to the supermarket, buy some produce, casually show Mr. Depetrio the dead demon-cat, and head back. It would be broad daylight, and they wouldn’t have any problems at all. Especially since they were going to keep a low profile.

Dan bent down to pick up some snow. “This is snow much fun.”

“There’ll be none of that,” said Stanley. “We’ve—”

A loud honk muted him, which Stanley took to be a sign of contempt. But for who? Turning around, he saw only one car on the road. It was a Fermi. Those cars did not have a steering wheel or an accessible horn. With no one to drive them, those were unnecessary parts. Those horns were used only when deemed necessary for safety — and never to harass pedestrians.

“Something wrong?” asked Dan.

“No,” said Stanley, looking around one more time for the hidden car that must have eluded him. “Let’s move along.” Not for a single second did he relax his vigilant eye. A few minutes down the street, they came upon a restaurant with a large sign in front.

Abomination-Free Dining

No Androids or Cyborgs Allowed

Stanley bit down on his teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, Stanley. Not everyone can be as accepting as you.”

“This is what I was talking about. People are cruel.”

“I’m sure they have their reasons for not allowing AI, even if we might not agree with them. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be this way.”

“No, Dan. Humans aren’t like AI. We have free will, and some of us have made horrible choices.” Stanley motioned toward the sign. “One day, I hope, these people will be held accountable for their hatred.”

“And if they’re not?”

“Then God is unjust.”

“Or forgiving.”

Stanley couldn’t bear the thought of people getting away with this act of cruelty against machine life. Like Dan’s programming, he wondered if there was a reason for everything. An unavoidable chain of code that had to execute. Or if there was there some all-powerful force guiding them along some supreme plan. When he thought of God, it was not some deity in the sky he believed in. It was something scientific that he had yet to fully formulate, but he imagined it having to deal with energy and consciousness. He found himself wishing for something greater and more mystical, but he would always talk himself out of it. He couldn’t imagine having the audacity to ask anyone to forgive him willy-nilly for the great wrongs he had perpetrated. His atonement would continue until the day he died.

Stanley passed through the automatic doors of the supermarket. The shelves were fully stocked, but there was barely a person in sight. “Welcome, new customer,” sounded a voice from all around Stanley. “Since this is your first time shopping with us, we do not have any of your preferences. For help, please say, ‘Grocer.’”

“An AI system,” said Dan.

“That’s right,” said Stanley. “But not as advanced as you.”

“Is she the same as Leticia?”

“Same base technology, but you’ll probably see very few similarities. I’m sure this AI has some very sophisticated algorithms specifically made for grocery shopping.”

Dan looked at the cashiers. “Those are androids.”

Stanley couldn’t see them well, but he could tell by the way their blurry humanoid figures moved that they were definitely androids. He was a little nervous about Dan experiencing all these new things. If Dan expected machine life to be as intelligent as he was, he was going to be disappointed. Stanley hoped that wasn’t the case. He hated the thought of Dan suffering the loneliness that had plagued him all these years. “We’ll get a better look when we check out.”

“I saw several at the hospital, but these seem different.”

“My eyes aren’t good enough to see them well, but they could be quite old. I don’t think the grocery business is as profitable as it used to be.” He grinned. “Not everyone has the good fortune of affording the latest and greatest technology.”

A wide smile overtook Dan’s face as he disappeared down the first aisle.

Stanley felt drained. He looked over at Dan, who was absorbed in the supermarket shelves like a child in a toy store. The world was new to him. His mind, his universe, was continually expanding. Joy shone through his eyes. Stanley knew it was his duty to help him learn, and that meant not sheltering him.

Dan needed to grow, and, for that to happen, Stanley had to grow, too. And he had done it; Stanley had swallowed his fear. For him, it was worth it. He hadn’t been beyond his complex in a decade. Life had changed. It was almost as new to him as it was to Dan.

Dan looked at everything, reading every word on every label. “I want to try it all.”

Stanley grabbed a basket. “Let’s start with a few.”

Dan answered with a smile and then picked up a crown of Romanesco broccoli, which was light green and shaped liked a fractal. He held it inches from his face, slowly turning it and making strange noises and facial gestures.

Stanley grinned.

A group of three pre-teen boys walked down the produce aisle. They were a boisterous bunch, shouting at each other, two of them half-connected to another world through Sessen Specs. Though these boys had the eyeglasses version, contact lenses were also available. As Stanley considered this, he wondered if the third boy had that version. His curiosity was interrupted when he saw Dan’s model number flash across one of their screens. “Great. Just what we needed.”

“Look at that,” one of the boys said.

“Android got broken by a broccoli,” said the one without the Sessen.

“Dude, you’re high. You don’t even know the difference between an android and a cyborg.”

“Screw you guys.” The boy swerved. “Androids are machines. Cyborgs are machines with humans’ brains.”

Upon hearing this miscarriage of information, Stanley was compelled to speak. “No, that doesn’t quite capture the truth.” He regretted opening his mouth but couldn’t stop. “You see, an android is a robot with a human appearance. If you look at Dan, he is made of flesh just like us. Cyborgs are a combination of organic and biomechatronic material. The major difference between us and Dan is his biomechatronic dual-brain system.”

He wanted to go on about the dual-brain system, but the urge to flee had fought its way through to awareness. Instead, he took his usual sideways stance and pretended to look at the tomatoes on the shelf.

“Oh, my God — it’s Stanley Duncan,” one of them said. Data flooded his vision. He took a step back; then a strange look grew across his face. “My view count is going crazy.” He stepped forward, emboldened. “Is that your cyborg?”

Stanley cursed himself for opening his mouth. He looked over at Dan, who had abandoned studying the broccoli and was listening to the conversation. Stanley hoped this wouldn’t go any further, but he looked at those three boys and could tell trouble was brewing.