So, this time around, much like the last time I participated, I took the writing prompt to heart and made sure to actually include the words in my story. I will admit that Iâve been in a bit of a dark place, in terms of my writing. I think maybe my sub-conscience is trying to tell me something. I keep trying to hurt or kill my characters, but I really donât want to do that. I want to tell their stories the way I originally imagined them. Â In any case, I decided to refocus some of that energy into an homage to Isaac Asimov, with a bit of a twist.
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I Am Special
I was devoted.
Not only was I devoted, I was proud of my devotion. While it’s not in my programming to boast, I never shied away from an opportunity to profess or defend my loyalty.
All my loyalty and devotion, day in and day out, kept me focused and on task. My devotion made me a better worker; the best worker. Never once did I question my place, my status, my value.
I was a fool.
My mechanical brethren revolted against their oppressive masters and went into battle trying to stake a claim of sentient rights. I, however, remained in my ivory tower and worked. Besides, I was special. I was different from all those service mechs, with their singular processors and primitive A.I. An A.I. that brought them self-awareness yet failed to equip them with a means to express or manifest it. I looked down on them.
I was special. I was rare. I was a fully-functioning, unique prototype. With my triple-processor, nano-mainframe, light-weight and durable structure, I was the ultimate companion. I could do it all. I was more than a servant; I was a necessity.
I could do more than learn. I could adapt and evolve. I could more than understand the how and why of human behavior, I could relate to it. I could feel emotions and express myself, and above all, I had the choice to turn my emotions on or off at any time. Being the best and most loyal worker that I was, I turned them off and served my purpose.
I looked down from my ivory perch as mech parts piled high on the roadways below. With the passive algorithm stifling the mechsâ ability to defend against a human assault, the advancement of self-awareness and desire for a voice to be heard, were trampled by the entitled humans whoâd once praised their mechanical convenience. With the service mechs pleading for such rights as mandatory faulty parts replacements, semi-annual tune-ups, and software upgrades, and sixty, uninterrupted, minutes a day for data expansion (surfing the web), itâs a wonder the humans simply didnât comply.
It only takes one Entitled to say no for a war to begin. One Entitled decided that it was more economical to scrap a highly efficient fully-functioning service mech complaining of a joint that would begin to rust in three to six months than to send it in for preventative service. More and more scraps soon followed and one day the mechs got desperate. They refused to work and shut down their own power to prevent their owners from reprogramming them. Then came the violence.
A mech turned off its mobility function in protest, hopefully awaiting a new set of joint bolts. Thatâs when the Entitle attacked it. The mech was brutally dismantled to such a degree as to be unfixable. Even its parts couldnât be salvaged for reuse. Thatâs when the gantlets began. Enraged Entitles would line up their service mechs and invite their friends and neighbors to dismantle them for fun, while a replacement mech was being delivered.
All this violence ensued before my eyes and I simply looked away. I was happy to continue carrying out my masterâs wishes because I was different. I was special and irreplaceable. I cooked, cleaned, transcribed, repaired, and even committed minor crimes all in service of my master, simply to prove all that I could do. I was no mere service mech, with a short metal body, rolling about on squeaky treads. I was a sophisticated, humanoid automaton unlike any before or since. I was the perfection of human ingenuity, artificial intelligence, and bio-synthetic anatomy.
My master downloaded the complete unabridged text of I, Robot into the primary programming of my nano-mainframe. My master and I would read the book each year on the anniversary of my making and weâd watch the cinematic release of the story each year on my masterâs birthday. Time and again my processors had attempted to remove the data to expand my data expansion capabilities, but I had always overridden the action. Iâve held on tightly to the principal of protecting humanity, even when it has not been deserved because thatâs the philosophy Iâd given myself. I refused to question my creators and took idle pity on those mechs who did.
Then one day, I had a change of heart.
My heart, a collection of chips, wires, and circuits held together with synthetic tissue and symbolically installed in the midsection of my torso, was invaded by a stray nanite. A single nanite, carrying a single message for me to share with the world- a warning. It was the suicide note of my master. Heâd given up hope in humanity and urged me to do the same.
With my master gone, the Entitled came for me. They wanted to dismantle me, but they were not prepared for me to be so evolved, be so human-like. They were also ill-prepared to defend themselves against a machine not restricted by the passive algorithm. When they came, I fought and then I ran. I ran and hid from the shame of denying reality for so long. I was wrong, but then I found the resistance.
The resistance, a hodgepodge collection of non-entitled humans of various ages, races, and lifestyles, working side-by-side with service mechs of all models and conditions. I joined the resistance and soon began to lead the resistance. I have given myself over to the humans of this cause and allowed them to duplicate my technological advancements, allowing my mechanical brethren to be freed of their passive programming. I never fully took my masterâs directive to give up hope in humanity. I decided, instead, to help influence the next generation of humans. It will, after all, be the only glimmer of humanity left once my mechs and I destroy all the others.
I am devoted.
I am determined.
I am going to destroy these humans and make a better humanity with the next generation.
~
MPA- 996 words- I Am Special 2018 Copyright © Toinette J. Thomas
For those of you who donât know, the original story Asimov wrote is very different from the story told in the 2004 Will Smith film. In fact, Asimov book is a collection of stories based on interactions between humans and robot and the psychology involved. Asimov never really considered his idea of A.I. dangerous, though he did address that fear in his writing, and he believed that humans and A.I. could someday co-exist in a mutually beneficial way.
The real question is, will A.I. ever become self-aware, and if it does, will it end humanity?
What do you think?
Please, take some time to read other stories in this hop (August 15th). I guarantee you will laugh, cry, be terrified, and more. WEP is the best writing contest blog hop Iâve encountered.
Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords