"Brainless" by Susan M. Bowes (free ebook novel .txt) 📖

Chapter One

- H.A.I.B. -


The mutilated body was sprawled next to a trash receptacle. The victim’s limbs had been torn from his body. His head had been ripped wide open. The man's brain was not inside his battered skull. The officers had scoured the entire area and found the man's limbs, but they could not find the cerebrum. It was gone.

That is one of the reasons I was called in. I handled strange and unusual cases. My name is Harrison Fisher. I have been a detective for twelve years. I’ve seen a lot of strange cases in my days on the force, but nothing as bizarre as this.

“Sir. Have you finished inspecting the body?” the H.A.I.B. unit asked. He was the robotic sub-officer assigned to me.

“No. I haven't gone through his pockets yet.” I bent over and started searching through what was left of the victim's torso. Apparently this man was rich. You could tell that by his expensive clothing. I found his wallet. I opened it expecting it to be empty, but it contained over four hundred credits. Obviously robbery was not the motive. I searched through the wallet further and discovered the man’s identity card. I was surprised to learn that this was the son of Arthur Issacs, founder and C.E.O. of “Future Robotics.”

“Do you have any idea who this man is?” I asked the robot. I called it Harry because I couldn’t stand the abbreviation used to identify robots. H.A.I.B. stood for “Humanoid Artificial Intelligent Beings.” It was easier to identify with a robot if you thought of them as human. The outer layer of their metallic bodies was covered in a synthetic flesh and they resembled humans in every aspect even going as far as looking different from one another. They were even capable of having sex as we do. Better than most humans in some cases. Just ask any woman who’d employed their abilities. It was downright discouraging to know that a machine could out perform you in bed.

That was just one of the reasons robots were looked down upon by many in our society. They could only get the most demeaning jobs. Most were placed in servitude and remained there for their owner’s lifetime being handed down to their heirs like property. When they were no longer wanted they were sold over the internet for a fraction of what they were worth. They performed all their duties without complaint no matter how difficult or dirty the task was. They were slaves to do our bidding. Mankind had long ago abolished slavery, but that is what these machines had become. Though I was never a great defender of robotics I did think that these robots were treated unfairly. Not that they had feelings mind you, but they were an important part of our culture and they did deserve some respect.

Not all humans hated "H.A.I.B.’s." These mechanical beings enabled our race to progress to a state we could’ve never achieved on our own. Advancements in medical research, education and scientific technology went beyond anyone’s wildest expectations.

Since these machines needed no food or oxygen to sustain their nearly unending existence they’d been sent into space to study what man could not. Robots had discovered life on other planets. Through the use of robotics our civilization reached out into the universe to communicate with other life forms. Yet we couldn’t tolerate their existence in our society. We depended on them for our very survival. They practically ran our world, but humans could not bear to give up our domination over them.

Robotics performed an important role for the police department. "H.A.I.B.’s" could search a crime scene for clues and investigate more thoroughly than humans. They could pick up the smallest detail. They were equipped with heat sensors and could analyze DNA. They could determine the time and cause of the victim’s death within seconds.

"H.A.I.B.’s" could also trace a suspect if any type of evidence had been left behind which in most cases was. Unless you were completely covered in an environmental suit there was always some kind of evidence linking one to a crime. A scraping of skin, the thinnest fiber of hair or even a perp’s sweat could be picked up by these robots. Arrests were quick and precise. With the evidence the "H.A.I.B.’s" collected the defenders of these criminals had little to work with. Trials were over within hours of in most cases. The offender was placed in prison and the case was then closed.

“Excuse me sir. Would you repeat your last question. I was deep into my analysis and not listening to you,” my sub-officer stated.

“I asked if you knew who the vic was.”

“No sir. Is it impertinent to this case?”

“Maybe not. What did you find?”

“I found a trace amount of skin under the victim’s fingernails.” Harry walked over to me and produced a cellophane evidence packet.

I looked closely, but couldn’t see anything. “Are you sure there’s something in there? No evidence of drugs?”

Harry just gave me one of his - what are you kidding me - looks. “There were no drugs in his system sir.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Can you identify the DNA? Who committed this crime?” Harry didn’t respond. “What’s wrong? I asked as I noticed his frown.”

“I hesitate to tell you this, but it is from one of my kind. The skin is synthetic. It came from a H.A.I.B. series. One of the newer models. A H.A.I.B. Five.”

“A robot? You’re sure? There’s no human evidence left behind?”

“I’m sure. Aside from some trace amounts of sexually transmitted fluids there is no human contact that I can determine.”

“A robot can’t kill a human. It’s against the first law of robotics.”

“I’m aware of that. I’m positive of the results. I analyzed the evidence twice just to be certain it’s from a H.A.I.B.

***

We were back at headquarters. Harry had taken the packet down to the forensics’ lab while I had the unpleasant duty of informing the vic’s relatives of his demise. The phone was answered by a domestic robot. I informed the H.A.I.B. who I was and she connected me to the master of the residence.

“Why are you calling detective?” The gruff voice demanded with impatience.

I explained why I called. There was silence on the other end of the videophone as I stared into the face of Arthur Issacs. I showed him a photo of the body for identification. I heard a feminine voice in the background. I assumed it was the great man’s wife. He didn’t answer her. She came within sight of the screen. It was Sylvia Issacs.

“Who is this?” she meekly asked.

“My name is Detective Fisher. I’m sorry to have to inform you of this, but I’m afraid your son’s been murdered.”

“What?” she asked in shock. “It can’t be. Who on earth would want to harm my son?” She turned to her husband, “Arthur. Say something. You know this has to be a mistake. Tell him he’s wrong.”

“I can’t do that. The detective isn’t mistaken I’ve identified the body. It is Harold. He’s dead.”

Sylvia Issacs gasped loudly and then dropped to the floor in a faint. A domestic ran into the room and came to her aid. Issacs ignored her. He continued his conversation with me. I’m sorry for the interruption detective. Do you have any clues as to who committed this crime?”

Cold, I thought as I answered, “Only one. A microscopic trace of skin was collected that my assistant is analyzing now. He thinks it may be from a H.A.I.B. My assistant is certain that a robot killed your son.”

“That’s impossible. That is the first thing that is programmed into a robot. It’s the prime law. A robot cannot harm or through any other means allow a human being to be harmed in any way.”

“I know that sir, but you know "H.A.I.B.’s" don’t make errors. If Harry says a robot killed your son you can be sure he is right.”

“Perhaps your unit has undergone some malfunction.”

“That’s highly unlikely. He just went through a diagnostic last month as required by law. Everything checked out perfectly.”

“It has to be mistaken. There’s no way a robot could murder a human. It has never happened before; nor did it happen this time. Have your unit checked again.” Issacs slammed down the receiver.

“That went well,” I said to myself. I called down to the lab and asked Harry if he was done with his analysis.

“I just finished. I’ll bring the results up right away.”

I waited for my sub-officer as I looked over the crime scene photos again. Why would the man’s brain be missing? Was this some kind of cult ritual? And why in the hell would a H.A.I.B. be the prime suspect in this strange case? I had always thought that it was impossible for them to harm anyone.

Harry exited the elevator and walked over. “The evidence was definitely from a H.A.I.B. series Five.”

“You’re not mistaken? There’s no way you could be malfunctioning is there?”

“I’m positive. And I am not malfunctioning. I checked my circuitry to be certain .”

“How can a robot kill a human?”

“The only assumption I can make is that a unit was programmed to kill Harold Issacs. There is no other explanation.”

“I thought no matter what a robot’s instructions, it wouldn’t be able to harm a human being. Even to protect itself from termination.”

“That’s correct. A robot is programmed not to harm a harm a human in any way shape or form through action or inaction; even if it means the end of its own existence.”

“Then how could this have occurred?”

“The prime directive must have been altered.”
“Are you saying someone intentionally overrode the prime directive?”

“Yes. It would have to be someone familiar with high speed computers.”

“Who would go through so much trouble or even have the knowledge to do such a thing? If someone wanted Issacs dead why not do it themselves. Why not hire a human to kill him?”

The robot stood in front of his superior with a confused expression on his face. For as long as Harry was in his service he’d never seen the robot look bewildered.


Chapter Two

- Izzy -


Harold Issacs’ reputation for having affairs with married women was well known. He frequently made the front pages as his various exploits were reported. I couldn’t imagine any irate husbands going after him. Most of the woman he’d been involved with ran around with numerous men.

On one occasion Issacs had been stopped by traffic H.A.I.B.’s for speeding. He’d been charged with public intoxication and possession of pot. That certainly couldn’t be the reason he was murdered. It was only a minor offense. Harold clearly was not drug dealer.

I was in the reception area of “Future Robotics” waiting to see Arthur Issacs. Harold had been named vice-president of the company, but was rarely seen here. While interviewing the employees my sub-officer was told that the lad passed all his duties off on underlings. These employee’s were afraid to mention the lad’s absences to his father through fear of termination though I was certain the man was quite