Robota: The Perfection of a Robot and the Alarming Consequences

By Leon Clay

The principal facts of this story have been extracted from the comprehensive files of the CRIB (Criminal Robot Investigation Bureau) which undertook a particularly difficult case relating to infringement of Section IV, Clause I of the legislation governing the manufacture of robots.
Other information obtained from a wide range of sources has been pieced together and collated, though the authenticity of minor details other than those acquired from the police documents, is subject to confirmation.
Mansell Howard, the offending robotist, made a great contribution to robotics and robotronics, not only in proposing a new computer hardware but in developing the necessary technology. His application of ETA (electron transitions in atoms) to programming and storage of information illustrates the vast progress in techniques from the early computer elements of the tube, transistor, printed and integrated circuits, and computer chips of the 20th Century to the inorganic and organic molecular-state patterns and eventually ETA of the present day.
Expert robotist, Howard Mansell, is fired from Robotics International for not adhering to company policy regarding robot design. He persists in endeavouring to make them appear too human. It is an era when it is illegal to have personal robots since they can be programmed to commit crimes. Only commercial robots are permitted. A string of circumstances causes Mansell to justify building his own robot maid in spite of the law, but he becomes entangled in a web of contradictory experiences: danger from the law, obsession in his creation; and failure to confront his own weaknesses, resulting in programming flaws and faulty behaviour of his robot, which could seemingly only culminate in disaster.
The story presents a realistic evaluation of the problems which could arise under these futuristic circumstances. It combines science, comedy, and risque episodes involving the robot, Robota.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 19, 2008
• ISBN: 9781462808984

Leon Clay

With degrees in physics and psychology, the author portrays a convincing era in the development of robots, in which the great robotist, Mansell Howard, clashes with both Robotics International and the law in this plausible story of intrigue, obsession, and disaster.

Book preview

Copyright © 2008 by Leon Clay.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

45791

Contents

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Preface

The principal facts of this story have been extracted from the comprehensive files of the CRIB (Criminal Robot Investigation Bureau) which undertook a particularly difficult case relating to infringement of Section IV, Clause I of the legislation governing the manufacture of robots.

Other information obtained from a wide range of sources has been pieced together and collated, though the authenticity of minor details other than those acquired from the police documents, is subject to confirmation.

Mansell Howard, the offending robotist, made a great contribution to robotics and robotronics, not only in proposing a new computer hardware but in developing the necessary technology. His application of ETA (electron transitions in atoms) to programming and storage of information illustrates the vast progress in techniques from the early computer elements of the electronic tube, transistor, printed and integrated circuits, and computer chips of the 20th Century to the inorganic and organic molecular-state patterns and eventually ETA of the present day.

Chapter 1

. . . tresses of hair hung perfectly from the scalp, neatly combed into place, and the skin consisted of many layers of finely processed plastic imbued with a texture of fine pores. The eyes were far from being a vacant pair of beads glaring with stupefaction into space but the source of an intelligent flow of life created by a myriad alternate receptive micro-photoelectric cells and transmission photo-reflector cells, which radiated that necessary awareness of perception peculiar to life itself. The skeletal frame was prominent under the skin at those parts of the anatomy that corresponded perfectly with those of a human. The brain operated on the principle of molecular energy levels by change of configuration of atoms, providing programme instruction and storage. The basic computer element was not considered to be of the order of magnitude of that in the human’s mind since the economy of space and accessibility of these molecular states was not yet as efficient, but its potential behaviour was comparable with that of a human’s . . . its durability far greater, with superior strength and speed, and ability to solve problems much greater . . .

But it was all a dream. In fact, a day dream of Mansell Howard, and one that had become of common occurrence since his dismissal as Chief Robot Designer. It was one of those depressing days when he spent hours reviewing the past events; those exciting days when he had had the reputation of being one of the top men on the planet in robotics. His status was the envy of all, but he erred against policy by devoting too much time and energy to perfecting his design of an animated man—not required for commercial robots. He had had so many ideas he wished to try out. The achievement of building a robot was much more to him than the manufacture of a mechanical man. It was the irresistible challenge and satisfaction to be obtained from producing a creation indistinguishable from a human.

But it had been his downfall. He had spent too much of the firm’s time on petty details, as the director called them, on refinements of skin texture, hair quality, intelligent expression of eyes and a programming of behaviour patterns which involved social manners, facial expression and elements of good communication as well as a indication of emotion. He had been warned many times to attend only to practical details, and arguments with the director had continued for years, but Mansell had taken his own status, worth and esteem for granted and had considered that he was quite safe in adamantly disagreeing with any superior if he so wished. And normally this would have been justified but Mansell had been tactless, even a little arrogant, as he saw himself now in retrospect.

As a result of his obstinacy in taking an independent stance against the policy of the company a feud had developed between himself and the Director of Robotics International, Horace Meyers. This was the main instigating factor in Mansell’s dismissal from the research department and his downgrading to Assistant Sales Administrator, which was meaningless to him. It shocked everyone. In spite of Mansell’s disobedience they would say, he was a man indispensable as a robot designer. He felt very bitter towards Meyers but he didn’t let it ferment and tried to rid himself of such an attitude, being a man of unexpected religious and spiritual qualities.

He cast his mind back to that fateful day. That day when he made a foolish error based on over-confidence, which gave Meyers that final bit of ammunition to get rid of him. Wishing he could turn back time he relived the events which led up to his dismissal. It began that morning of the day in question when he met his good friend, Ed Crawford, the director of Research and Development at the entrance to Robotics International. They were on the same wavelength and immediately were immersed in deep conversation. They entered the building together and sauntered down the corridor, passed the laboratories where the robots were constructed and prepared for programming. Mansell occasionally interrupted their discussion to gaze into different laboratories and workshops. They stopped for a moment outside an open laboratory door where the construction of a robot had just been completed. Mansell peered into the lab with the usual enthusiasm as though he was seeing it for the first time.

‘Look Ed . . . a new robot about to be activated! I’ll bet you it has a second-stage brain.’

The robot looked human from a distance and was wearing a type of coverall. Its face was, however, in closer inspection, easily recognisable as not being human. Ed did not question Mansell’s information.

Mansell continued. ‘I think the second-stage brain should be standard . . . it has far more potential than the first-stage brain . . . .’

They continued walking towards Mansell’s lab.

‘. . . It gives that extra human-like control of the robot body, and finer programming, but of course we have to have the first-stage brain present as well for total obedience to the fundamental laws of robotics since it’s more reliable and free from certain complexities.’

They reached Mansell’s laboratory and entered.

‘I’ve got something special to show you Ed.’

Mansell could clearly remember that childlike excitement and impishness as he recalled ushering Ed over to a large cupboard.

‘What do you think of this?’

Mansell unlocked the cupboard door and opened it. For a moment Ed was startled at the realistic robot staring at him—the face was perfect. It even had a beard.

Ed was struck by powerful mixed feelings, ‘You never give up, do you? Meyers will be furious . . . you are taking an awful risk.’ Ed sounded genuinely concerned. ‘You would be well advised to work within the hardware/software format as directed by the company’s policies, Mansell.’

Mansell ignored Ed’s remarks. ‘It’s not fully programmed yet. I’ve named him Horace . . .’ A wry smile spread across his face, ‘. . . after our dear director.’

Instantly the sound of the name ‘Horace’ uttered by Mansell evoked a response in the robot.

‘Oops! I forgot,’ he giggled childishly. ‘I’m using a voice activation system. The mere sound of his name awakes him, but he has little programming so far . . . .’

Mansell directed a command at the robot.

‘Horace—cancel!’

The robot became immobile.

Ed sighed despairingly but Mansell turned away and quickly directed Ed to a bench some distance away from the cupboard. ‘Over here I’m developing a third-stage brain! . . . .’

‘A third stage!’ repeated Ed, again with mixed feelings of conflicting interest and disapproval.

The intercom system broke the relative quietude of the labs and an announcement was heard.

DR. HORACE MEYERS WANTED IN HIS OFFICE.

The sound of ‘Horace’ was quite distinct—anyone could hear it, including the robot. Horace the robot was activated and slowly stepped out of the cupboard, looked right and left then went for the open doorway, out into the corridor. Mansell and Ed were quite oblivious to what had happened as Mansell was engrossed in a discussion of the third-stage brain.

Mansell painfully recalls his fit of apprehension when he and Ed realised the robot was gone. They dashed around the corridors checking rooms and labs desperately before his secret creation could be found out.

As luck would have it, Mansell unfortunately passed by the Director’s office just as the Director, Horace Meyers, peered out of his office, apparently looking for his visitor.

What timing! as Mansell thought of it now. If it had not occurred he realised the sequence of events would have been different, and he would probably still be at his regular job.

‘Oh, Mansell!’ Meyers called. ‘While you’re here I’ve got Inspector Rawlings who I’d like you to meet.’ Then he added in a whisper, loaded with meaning, ‘I want everything ship-shape and in order!’ He gave Mansell a lingering glare as they went into the office.

Mansell knew there was some ulterior motive even if it was merely to stress the necessity for robot design compliance and the consequences of violations. Worse than that he could no longer help Ed in finding the robot.

Even further, as Mansell remembers, Ed with a fifty-fifty chance had taken the other of two possible paths that the robot could have taken, and now ‘Horace’ the robot was approaching the vicinity of Meyer’s office.

Mansell was now seated in Meyer’s office next to Rawlings. Again, what timing! he thought, An inspector for regulations of the Factory Acts!

Rawlings was getting impatient, ‘I’d like to get to the point if I may. As you know there have been rumours of Factory Act Robot Regulations being violated . . . .’ He stressed this, then paused for a moment, ‘However, I can assure you I hold you in the utmost esteem Dr. Meyers, and fully expect such rumours to be unfounded so that we can clear this up in no time.’

‘Yes, I’m sure we can,’ Meyers said not very convincingly and avoiding eye contact with Mansell. ‘But I’ve invited a Professor Barns to attend our meeting from the metallurgy research department of the university. He will be introducing our company to a new metallic product to be used in robot design—this would have to be approved of course. He should be here shortly.’ He glanced at Mansell, ‘And I thought you’d be interested in meeting him, Mansell.’

The robot had now spotted Meyer’s door and was staring at the name ‘Horace’ on the door—it was his name.

HORACE MEYERS, DIRECTOR OF ROBOTICS INTERNATIONAL.

The robot opened the door abruptly.

Mansell could hardly believe it. There appeared to be no end to the ill-timed events. Right here in front of him, and in the middle of Director Meyer’s office with an arrogant and officious inspector who would flay Mansell for this robot violation, quite apart from what Meyers would do, his audacious secret was being exposed. Should he have deactivated ‘Horace’?—all he had to do was call out ‘Horace, cancel!’ But that would have completely exposed his audacious severe transgression. On the other hand, the robot’s behaviour compared with a human was at the level of stupidity—if only he could have got the robot out of the office before anything happened. But it was too late.

Meyers had hardly time to rise from his behind his desk as the mechanical Horace entered and approached the desk. But Meyers thought it was his visitor.

‘Professor Barns, I presume?’

The robot appeared vague but its gestures could have been interpreted as including a nod.

‘Er, this is the robot inspector, Mr. Rawlings.’

Mr Rawlings stood up and held out his hand. The robot understood this as a gesture to be copied and held out its hand but rather like a train signal going up. The inspector even had to make the hand contact himself. But as they clasped hands, the robot gripped too tightly and the inspector buckled at the knees squirming with pain.

Meyers, very disturbed and embarrassed at this unexpected incident, attempted to regain some control over the situation. Mansell recalls nearly having a heart attack but could do nothing as he awaited further complete stupidity from his robot not yet programmed with the intelligence of a child.

‘Please Professor,’ Meyers addressed the robot, and endeavouring to ameliorate the situation, ’er—take a seat.’

Mansell hands were over his face, and he muttered under his breath, Be more explicit, Meyers!

‘Horace’ looked back and forth from the empty chair to Meyers a couple of times then picked up the chair and started to leave the office—actually taking the chair with him.

Mansell simply jumped up, followed the robot out and dragged him back towards his laboratory with Meyers at his door, in a state of shock but nevertheless yelling repeatedly, ‘You’re fired, Mansell!’

It was as abrupt and final as that, as Mansell recalls. All the many warnings indicated it but he never though it would become a reality. That stentorian voice was still ringing in his ears, You’re fired, Mansell!

Then Mansell was pulled out of his depressive reverie by the sound of his house keeper entering through the front door. She peered into the lounge after a gentle knock but nevertheless was surprised to see Mansell sitting there in his favourite armchair.

‘You’re early, Mr. Howard.’

Mansell looked at her with visible signs of dejection. All he could utter was, ‘I’ve been fired! Can you believe that?’

‘Fired?’ Mrs. Bishop’s eyes widened and she paused to assimilate the truth of Mansell’s words.

‘Oh, no!’ she murmured sympathetically, ‘That’s dreadful—let me get you a nice cup of tea and you can tell me all about it.’ She turned away, swiftly for her age, and went into the kitchen.

Ethil Bishop was a cheerful woman, slightly on the plump side and approaching her half century. She had been separated from her husband but was always seeking a replacement. When she applied as housekeeper for Mansell she ceased all effort in that direction. He seemed ideal. He was even well off. However, she found him slow, shy and apparently not very interested in women generally. Nevertheless she decided that this could be an advantage as she was fading physically and if being pampered, having good food and a clean house was of any interest to Mansell, she would fit the bill. Several times she had made up her mind to make certain advances to him, or give a hint about marriage—they were on familiar enough terms, she thought. He was always so courteous to her, she was almost sure there was a good chance he would be interested. She intended at the next favourable opportunity to bring up the subject.

Mansell Howard had lived a celibate life. He wasn’t against marriage but his preoccupation with robots had appeared to modify his basic drives and he had little or no interest in sexual matters. He had a certain disapproval of the subject, having a puritanical outlook on life, but he was most certainly not aware that he would have been regarded by most psychologists as a classic case who had successfully suppressed what he considered to be his nonessential basic drive. At forty-five years of age he was approaching only half the average life span and had anticipated giving many more years of service as a leading robot designer. He had thus become mentally stuck on this injustice and his own rational thinking would not alleviate it in spite of his religious disposition.

In fact it seemed to be an era, of preoccupation with more spiritual matters. By the end of the 20th Century, 25 years ago, materialism, which had been gaining an increasing influence over society, had taken a turn for the worse and religions were revived and reconciled in a new light of knowledge. Scientific discoveries of metaphysical phenomena had led to extensive research into the substance of the spirit to solve the controversy once and for all, of materialism versus vitalism. And vitalism it was, but not as the citizens of the 20th Century knew it. Nevertheless, this new knowledge plus the inevitable study of robotics and man as a mechanical man led to something ‘more to life than the atoms of which our bodies are built’ as phrased by a famous philosopher.

There were still sceptics, of course,