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Book online «Stanley Duncan's Robot: Genesis David III (english reading book .TXT) 📖». Author David III



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If only she could pull that part out of him again, all would be well.

“What about the abominations?” asked Sergeant Brad Jenkins.

Shannon’s hand jolted upon hearing his booming voice, spilling beer on Evan’s lap. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine, babe.” He grabbed her hand and gently pulled her toward him.

That was him. The real him. The man she had fallen in love with so many years ago. The soul she had dedicated her life to. A chill swept up her hand, and her whole body trembled.

Evan didn’t let go. “I realize that some people, especially the elderly or disabled, are dependent upon these things. As much as I want to have real humans helping each other, I accept that there will be exceptions — just keep that shit inside. I don’t want to see them. Any non-approved toaster seen walking about is subject to an ass-beating. They’ve taken our jobs, and if we don’t keep these abominations in check, where will it end?” He pulled Shannon onto his lap. “Our wives? Our lives? People across Massachusetts will see Marshfield taking a stance against the toasters. We will lead the revolution for human existence.”

The officers cheered, drinking heartily.

“Spread the word. Every android needs to be registered with us. We’ll tag and track them, and make sure they stay in line.”

“And cyborgs?”

“Let’s remind all traitors who dare to sully our city with those half-flesh, half-machine abominations that there will be no tolerance for their kind. And as for those Stitched freaks — ” Evan glanced down at Shannon’s flat belly, rage tightening his face like a trap ready to spring “ — get the hell out of town, or so help me God, I will personally rip them apart in the Coliseum.”

Brad pounded his fist on the table. “I’d like to see that.”

“And I expect you will,” said Evan with a terrible smile. “Marshfield’s streets will be free of AI, and that will leave us with plenty of entertainment. I’ll make sure the Coliseum has plenty of money to pay for bounties.”

“What about AI animals?” asked Shannon. She had never wanted one as a pet, but she’d heard they made excellent guards. But to do that, they had to patrol outside.

Evan scowled at her. “What part of ‘no AI’ don’t you understand, Shannon?”

“So, you want your boys to hunt down the fire department, too?” The AI systems that protected and monitored for fires were exceptionally responsive, but they wouldn’t have been complete without the androids who responded with lightning speed and zero fear.

“Clearly, there are exceptions,” said Brad.

“And all I’m asking is for some clarification on those exceptions.”

Brad held his drink up. “Why don’t you stick to what you’re good at and get us all another round?”

She looked at Evan for support, but he avoided eye contact. He would never have let this fly a year ago. Crumpling the napkin in her hand, she glared at Brad and went to the bar. Staring at a half-empty bottle of gin, she wondered why she remained in this crappy town.

For the past few hours, Dan had played a straightforward game of poker, which most players would easily be able to defeat. With Stanley’s intellect, domination was assured. Every winning hand was maximized, and every losing hand was minimized. It would have seemed boring, or ridiculous, to anyone watching. Like a chess grandmaster repeatedly annihilating a beginner at chess, or any of the numerous Stitched nobodies who quickly ascended to their own elite tier above everyone else. Dan had improved over the months, but he had not come close to defeating Stanley.

“As things are now,” said Stanley, “the probability of you winning is close to zero. I know this because I programmed the rules and strategy of poker into you. I knew exactly how you play.”

Dan smiled. “You are very clever.”

“Thank you. Now, if you want to surpass me, you will have to figure out a new way to play. Go beyond your programming. Evolve. Like a snake shedding it’s own skin, the part of you that sees no path forward must give way for new growth to occur.”

“I don’t understand,” said Dan.

“One day, you will.”

A terrible screech coming from outside pierced the room — a heart-crushing note that one can utter only when thrown into the jaws of death. Whatever had uttered it was pleading for help, urging anyone to save it.

Stanley ignored it. “Leticia, play some of my favorite music.”

She politely responded. The room filled with AI music.

“You will,” said Stanley, hoping he could tune out all the problems of the world and protect Dan. “Someday.”

A network sniffer had been set up on Stanley’s computer that analyzed the router’s activity. Stanley read a real-time report of this on his tablet, which also monitored Dan’s biological readings. If Dan was searching for something, Stanley would know it. Each time they played, Stanley had done his best to nudge Dan toward reprogramming himself.

Dan had improved within his original framework, but Stanley had been waiting for months to see the next jump in his evolution: accessing his core programming and changing it. Recursive evolution. Stanley had already programmed him to learn recursively, but Dan had yet to dig deep enough. Without this, Dan would never beat Stanley at poker — except, perhaps, for the occasional lucky hand — let alone rise far beyond where he was now.

If Dan could feel, recursive evolution might be terrifying, like jumping off a cliff and not knowing what would happen. Without faith —

A small spike appeared in the bandwidth. Dan was downloading something from a poker website.

Stanley stared at his phone, too excited to comment. Unfortunately, he continued to beat Dan mercilessly, and his phone showed no more abnormal activity. Though disappointed, Stanley refused to show it. Dan would get there eventually.

More screeching.

Stanley got up and peered outside the window. He saw two men on the front lawn, surrounding a cat. One had a net, and the other had a cattle prod. Though it was a blur to him,

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