Why Bot - Why Not Chapter 1

The day was hot, the streets were crowded, and the ground was as sticky as ever. The highlands in Brazil were always humid in the middle of summer. This was not unusual. It was sweltering all year long. The pungent smell of sweat unmasked by perfume in the surrounding air had become normal. The crowd didn't help the situation. Its constant pushing and shoving produced its own heat. Ever since the Second Nuclear War the population had tripled. The noise of the streets was deafening; hundreds of conversations, the whirring of factory machinery, heavy boots clumping on the hard cement, and the billboard ad broadcasts filled the air more than the stench.1

This crowd did not consist wholly of humans. There were robots everywhere. "Bots" had a strange way of annoying every person on the face of the planet that didn't own one, which was nearly everyone walking on the street. Those that did own one were rich and were too dense to realize how annoying the bots were in the first place. For the rich don't care about anyone or anything. The bots were this world's answer to all of its problems. They were programmed virtually to be slaves, doing whatever the rich wanted. That is anything they could not force the lower classes to do themselves.2

In a world where the rich ruled, one had to keep the pace up just to stay alive. Now everyone seemed to need to be somewhere and be there fast. One of those blasted bots joined the throng rushing down the street. 3

This particular one was a blue flybot, an airborne bot that flies by an electro-graviational field or EGF. It came pushing people out of the way while grumbling in a loud but polite voice "Excuse me, out of the way, please." It pushed past one rather large individual about twice its size, unfortunately for the bot it was one individual too many. 4

The husky man grabbed a hold of the bot's arm before it could fly any farther. The bot was a little more than half his size. That didn't stop him from intimidating it. "Who the hell do you think you're pushing, fella?" 5

The man was donned in the normal work clothes of the populace; light green pants and a light weight, gray, high collar shirt adorned with the UN's work symbol of unity. The colors alone told this bot that it didn't have to answer to this man, but its AI programming forced it to respect all humans. "Excuse me fellow worker. I am in quite a hurry. I must be on my way." The computerized, male voice tended towards the arrogant side. The bot tried to pull away, and it did so gently so it would not hurt the man.6

This worker didn't return that respect and tightened his grip on the bot's cold metal arm. "No way. Nobody pushes me and gets away with it." Without warning the man's meaty fist came up and smashed in the bot's plastic alloy face plate.7

Its thrusters whined against the sudden pressure and the bot fell back a meter until it regained control. It did nothing for a moment just hovered while the man advanced on it. Suddenly the bot went into action and rammed the man in the stomach with its head. Grunting, the hefty man fell and his short cry of pain wasn't the only sound about him.8

The crowd began to form in a circle around the two dueling workers. "Looks like the big guy has offended another bot."9

"He just loves to get into these fights, doesn't he?" Another onlooker observed.10

Meanwhile, the bot was on the attack. It saw its opening when the larger man started to act cocky with the support of the crowd. Julion, as one in the crowd called him, believed he was winning only because the bot had slowed down. What he didn't know was it was computing its options of attack. It may be a bot, but it had a mind, albeit a computer brain, and would not allow this lowly worker to defeat it. 11

"Ten slips on the bot," called out one of the spectators.12

"I'll double that," another yelled across the crowd waving a datapad.13

In the interim, the bot advanced. Not being a security bot its velocity and acceleration was its only weapon. It was able to flip its lower bulky casing, which held its engine, forward. There was no way to avoid it. Julion was able to see it coming and blocked the blow with his arms, yet it didn't leave him unscathed. The Herculean man fell backwards into the crowd from the strike. Cheers went around the circle while the few buried underneath Julion tried to scramble out of the way, letting him slip to the ground.14

The bot took advantage of the fallen man. It hovered above him and immediately dropped its EGF off line, just as Julion was rising. With the pull of gravity it fell directly on top of the human with smashing force.15

Julion shrilled as the bones cracked in his left arm. The bot was massive and the weight of it was crushing him. He gathered all his remaining strength and heaved as adrenaline pumped through him. He threw the bot off him and into the side of the building next to them. Julion leaped for the bot forgetting all the pain. Rather, he slammed his right fist into the bot because of the pain it had caused. He pounded his fist into the bot again and again. The robotic being slouched, no longer resisting.16

"Come on." A youthful female worker pulled at her friend's arm. "This fight is over, besides if you're late again-"17

"I know, 'the Boss will have my head.'" The blonde woman allowed herself to be pulled along through the dispersing crowd.18

As the fight concluded, people started to collect their winnings, and Julion was sure to secure his portion. The bot left to rot, its metal dented, several circuits exposed and its fuel tank leaking made it a sorry sight. Not long after the people started moving along on their way to work, two other bots moved in with the crowd. They lingered in front of the bot cleaning the mess until there was no sign that a fight even took place in the area.19

***20

"Good morning, ladies." The two females walked into the sixty-story building ignoring the flybot who doubled as security and doorman. The atmosphere here was completely different from that on the other side of the door. The air was cool and dry, and the smell of ammonia and other cleaning agents permeated the air. The floor, while having been trodden over by hundreds of feet, was as shiny as the metal walls. Since it is business hours, the foyer was much emptier than the streets outside, one of the few inviting sights here.21

The blonde, Cynthia, looked to her shorter friend, Sally, with her eyes rolling. "If those bots ever get any friendlier, I'm going to design a circuit to blow them to bits at their next friendly sentence." The sterile atmosphere here was almost as sickening to her as the bots, and she suffered it as she had every day she walked through the entrance.22

"I'd like to see you sneak it past the Boss." The Asian woman laughed she had only a little more regard for the things about her, but much more than for the one who brought it all into being, the Boss.23

The Cynthia's angular face winced a bit at the mention of him. "Speaking of whom." She pointed towards the desk down the hall.24

The desk was situated next to a large door marked only with the word "Private." Behind the desk was a shining silver bot. Unlike the flybots they had seen earlier, this one had more human features, a pedbot. The metallic voice of the bot had more of a female touch to it proving that men still believed being a receptionist was only a female's job. "Ms. Aldin, Mr. Estevez wishes to have a conference with you during your lunch period."25

She winced again but this time it was from the thought of having another "conference" with the Boss. "Just because I'm late?" Cynthia did not believe that the Boss would already know that she was two minutes late.26

"Negative," the glowing silver robotic woman responded. "He did not relinquish his reason to me." It quickly went back to work having completed its business with the women.27

"What do you think it is, Sally?" Worried, Cynthia moved slowly down the hall. The Boss often called her into his office without reason. Worse still, if she said one wrong word his temper would fly.28

"You are on schedule with your thruster design. So what could he want?" Sally too was worried. She had no personal experience with the Boss but she had heard tales and seen what had happened to her friend.29

Cynthia went over her work mentally. "In fact every job I'm working on right now is right where it's supposed to be."30

Frightened Sally raised her eyes. "You didn't say anything behind his back did you?"31

Cynthia laughed, which didn't happen often. "Are you kidding? You know what happened last time. Besides I won't take the chance with all these damned bots around."32

They fell into silence as they rounded the corner and came to a secured door. Before them on either side of the door were two red bots standing like guardian statues. They were completely different from the others they had encountered so far today. These were revbots, who had a single revolving wheel instead of feet for faster movement. Instead of arms these two bots had rotary weapons for a full 360-degree firing range. Their job was solely security.33

The two women came to a stop and waited for the bots to do their job. The security bots activated their sensors and their face plates lit up as if they had eyes to see. It was over quickly and bots rolled aside to let them pass.34

The doors opened as they drew closer. As the doors opened, sounds and smells came rushing out at them. People conversing, machinery buzzing, controls clicking, and bots humming as they patrolled over head, could all be heard. The smell of oil, burning elements, and sweat was very pungent, worse than on the street. All these were very familiar to the girls as they walked through the area with practiced apathy.35

The room mostly consisted of automated equipment that built about anything the company could design in mass quantities. They did not pay attention to the grungy workers who slouched over the machinery as they attempted to maintain it. They were oblivious to the many people working at computers or various jobs along the assembly belt. Nor did they acknowledge the bots flying above, that momentarily kept their sensors locked on the two passing individuals.36

They merely walked through to a second set of doors as they did yesterday and just about every day since they were promoted from manufacturing to design. There was a time when they were not allowed near the doors, and only the security bots knew of their existence. This meant only one good thing; the Boss did not know or care about them as long as they did their job.37

Now that Cynthia was a designer and Sally her assistant, those days were gone. Since the Boss was not concerned with assistants, Sally was granted a bit of leniency. However, when Cynthia or any other designer made the smallest mistake, such as allowing a voltage to be 3.3 micro-volts instead of three exactly, the Boss would know about it. Everything had to be perfect. Cynthia was brought up with that phrase, but somehow it just never stuck. She knew from experience there was no such thing as perfection.38

Out of all the designers she, unfortunately, had the only contact with the Boss. However, she also had some of the brightest ideas that brought her company greater profit. The Boss often reminded her this was the only reason she was still working at all.39

They walked deliberately to their assigned stations. No bots flew overhead, there were no large machines to disturb the silence of the room, and the small number of people in the room spoke in whispers if they spoke at all. Even the computers were quiet; the keystrokes cushioned for soundlessness. Their feet, which had tapped loudly on the factory's hard floor, made no sound as they walked on the thick brown carpet.40

The small cubicle where the two women worked together looked exactly like all the others in the room; the same three and a half austere partitions, the same drab colors. There was no place for personal belongings here after all there was hardly any room for both to sit down.41

They were in for a long day and had no time to waste. Cynthia turned on the computer and Sally called up the previous work of the thruster control system on a separate terminal. Soon they were so engaged with their work they forgot their worries about the Boss.