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Bot000 © 2003 Kara Anne Kalel. All rights reserved. Always read the fine print. *-* I was getting desperate. As my wife entered her sixth month with our third child, and I entered my eighth month of unemployment, our savings and my unemployment were gone. We survived on her job as a waitress, but she would be forced to quit that soon. With four, soon to be five mouths to feed, medical bills, mortgage, and so forth, I had to find a job. I had logged on to my usual job search web pages, and I was almost about to quit in frustration, when I remembered one I hadn't checked in a while. Sure enough, there was an ad for a technician at a shop in Brooklyn. It would be a nice commute from Bayonne, but it was the best match I'd seen in a long time. I forwarded my resume, and jotted down the address. About quarter after seven the next morning, the phone rang. I put down the coffeepot, and answered it, so my wife could sleep in a bit more. The shop was on the phone, asking when I could be in for an interview! I thought to myself, "Boy, these guys are really on the ball!" and replied, "Ten, if the tubes are on time." "That will be fine. Ask for Mr. Johnson," the voice replied with a chuckle. *-* At five minutes after ten, I asked the guard at the front desk for Mr. Johnson. While I signed for my visitor's pass, the guard paged him. I settled down to wait, sipping a cup of the fresh coffee. "Hello, I'm Mr. Johnson! Glad you could make it!" He was a non-descript fellow with thinning brown hair in a comb-over. I put down my Styrofoam cup and stood up to shake his hand. He looked me over, and then said, "Let's get down to business, shall we?" *-* After a long conversation, Mr. Johnson asked, "I think you'll be perfect for us! When can you start?" I blinked, and said, "Immediately, if you'd like." "Excellent! I'll take you by HR so you can get the paperwork going, then we can do the 'nickel tour' of the place. This is a maintenance office for the New York area, the actual factory is in Denver. Better tax rates, y'know." He chuckled, and I grinned. I didn't know what I would be servicing besides some sort of household appliance, but at this point I really didn't care. It was a good, no, a great job with travel, expenses, a good salary, and best of all, immediate health and life insurance. Mr. Johnson stood, and ushered me out. *-* "Honey, I'm home!" I called. "Did you get it?" she asked excitedly, coming out of the kitchen. "Yes, I did!" She squealed, and I carefully hugged her. She took my hand, and pulled me after her into the kitchen. I sat down, and she returned to washing dishes. "Tell me about it!" She asked. "It's servicing robots. Household robots. They're a start up company with a lot of venture capital. Should be fairly simple, all I'll be doing is installation, and changing out modular components. The robots even call in when something's wrong, so there's minimal troubleshooting involved." "And..." I told her the salary, and she squealed in delight. I added, "It includes full medical, starting as soon as I sign the papers. Your doctor visits are covered, honey." "Oh, thank God." she replied. "I was really getting worried." "So was I, babe. So was I." I sighed in relief, and opened the beer that she handed me. I sighed again in relief, and added, "The only thing that really bothers me is that I'm going to have to fly to Denver for a month of training. That's a month away from you." "They're paying for it?" I nodded, and she said, "Go. We can't afford to blow this. Your parents don't live far, and Mom lives in Jersey City. I'll survive a month without you." She kissed me, and added with a grin, "Somehow." "That's my girl." I grinned at her, and returned her kiss. *-* As we landed in Denver, I marveled at the size of the mountains around the city. I sighed, already missing the concrete canyons of New York. Still, the natural beauty had an effect on me. With a roar, the engines reversed thrust, and I started to repack my carry-on. In the terminal, I saw a fellow holding a sign for CyberServant, the company that had hired me. I headed his way, and he turned and spotted me. "You're from New York? Do you mind waiting a few minutes? There's a couple of people coming in another gate from LA, two international, and another from your flight. There's a bar down that way, if you'd like." I shook my head no, and he handed me a twenty, and said, "On the company." I sat in the bar, and opened the sales literature. In a minute, a Hispanic girl came in, spotted my brochure, and asked, "CyberServant? I'm Maria. May I join you?" I stood, and offered her a seat. She smiled, and teased, "A gentleman, from New York? You're going to ruin our reputation!" I chuckled, and she continued, "Ten years in the Air Force as a mechanic, I make sergeant, I go to work for Delta, and then the economy goes south, and I get laid off. What about you?" "I was working for one of the trading houses as a computer tech in lower Manhattan when the, um, Trade Center, well..." She nodded, and I took a breath, and said, "My wife is expecting our third. Six months and counting!" Maria smiled, and said, "Congratulations! Do you know yet, or do you want to know?" "We don't. I was almost ready to flip burgers when I saw this job on the web, and when they said they'd cover medical from day one, well..." "You'd be a fool to turn it down. I know. My unemployment was running out, and nobody wanted to hire a female mechanic. I even looked into re-enlisting, but this came along..." I nodded, and changed the subject. I touched the glossy brochure, and said, "What do you think about these?" "I think it's going to put some people out of work. How many, I don't know. I may be selfish, but as long as I have a job, well..." Maria said. *-* I sat with Maria in the van, the two from LA and a lady from Quebec in the seat behind us. A blonde from Berlin rode shotgun next to the driver. I settled back and looked over the mountain of luggage as we made our way down I-25. All too soon, we were pulling off into a suburb nestled into the base of a mountain. We stopped at a gatehouse in a small industrial park, then proceeding through the complex. The driver stopped, and said, "We're here." He pulled inside a bay, and as the gate rolled shut behind us, I saw the first of the 'bots I'd be servicing. "Mi Dios!" "Mein Gott!" "Mon Dieu!" "Oh, my God!" I saw the six gleaming forms in the dim light, and the driver said, "Each of you has one for your duration here. You can use it for your homework, or whatever you wish. However, they are not to leave the compound. As a matter of fact, they can't. Their programming won't permit it." He opened his door, and hopped out. One of the 'bots had opened the van's doors, and they were standing silently, waiting in a line. Maria asked, "It, not 'she'?" She looked at the gleaming chrome form, waiting on her, or its, high-heeled feet. "It." The driver said. "They're not alive, and they won't do anything unless you give them instructions or permission." He spoke to the 'bots. "Voice on. Are you alive?" "No, Master." The 'bots chorused. "Voice off." He turned back to us, and said, "They shut up that easy. They'll distinguish between male and female, can be programmed for whatever language you wish, and will work twenty two hours a day, every day. You'll find this all out, and more. You refer to them by their serial numbers or at least the last few digits. They're the only ones that remember the whole thing. You'll be taking them apart, and putting them together again." He referred to his clipboard, and continued, "Now then. Ladies first. Bot 2725, you're assigned to Frau Schmidt, here. Mein Frau, if you'd designate your luggage, 2725 will carry it for you to your room." *-* I stood in the room, the 'bot standing behind me, arms full of my luggage. I didn't know what to pack, so my wife had suggested a little of everything. I moved to the window, and told the 'bot, "Unpack everything for me, please." It hummed, and started to do so. I watched, and then asked, "Bot, why do you hum?" It hummed, and I looked at it blankly for a minute, then kicked myself and said, "Voice on." "Master, all orders must be acknowledged, unless otherwise ordered." "I see. Continue unpacking, please." "Yes, Master." I looked at the mountains for a minute, then said, "Bot, does your programming include mixing drinks?" "Yes, Master." "Whiskey and soda, please. Can you say anything beyond 'Yes, Master'?" "Yes, Master. Master's programming will include this." It turned, and handed me the drink. It straightened up, and said, "May I continue unpacking, Master?" *-* "Bot, is there a bar or restaurant in this place? Someplace where I can go to unwind?" "Yes, Master." It paused for a second, then continued, "Other people from your class are already there. Would you prefer directions, or for this unit to guide you there?" "Guide me, but how did you know there were others there?" "I am in continual communication with other units. Would master like to bathe or change before dining?" "Yes. I'd like a shower." "Would master like assistance?" "No. Continue unpacking, and voice off." It hummed as I started to pull off my sweaty clothes, and headed into the shower. *-* I followed the bot down and across the compound to a small restaurant. I looked around, and saw the people that I had traveled with in the van. I went to join them, as my bot peeled off to take up position with the others, standing silently against the wall in the shadows. "Hey, there!" I saw Maria wave at me, and I smiled, and pulled up an empty chair. She smiled, and Frau Schmidt said, "Unusual day, ja?" I replied, "Yes, it is. I could get used to having one of these things, though. I wonder if there's an employee discount?" "Oh, yeah. With three kids, a husband, and laundry, cooking, and all, it would be like having a live in maid, except you wouldn't have to worry about paying her." Maria laughed. Frau Schmidt nodded, and added, "You could keep her in the basement, and not have to worry about the police saying something!" I chuckled, and looked at the menu. Making my decision, I closed it and put it down, and my bot was suddenly at my elbow. I jumped a bit, and it hummed. I looked at it, then said, "Voice on." "Is Master ready to order?" it asked. I looked up, and the other people's bots were silently standing behind their... not owners. What? I dismissed the thought, and said, "Yes. Another whiskey and soda, and I'll have the grilled salmon with rice." It vanished, and as the others gave their orders, their bots silently vanished also. In a minute, mine reappeared with my drink, saying, "Your order will be ready in five minutes, Master. May this unit assist you further?" I shook my head, and it vanished again. The Canadian lady said, "What I can't get used to is their silence. You'd think with those heels, they'd make some noise, but they're quiet as a ghost." Maria nodded, and added, "With those heels, must be four, five inches, they're incredibly well balanced, too. I wonder why those heel heights? Flats must be just as practical." The brunette from LA added, "Notice the bust? Must be an E cup, at least. I wonder why?" Her partner said, "Marketing?" The women groaned, and the men chuckled. *-* "It is oh-seven hundred, Master. It is time to wake up." I groaned, and woke up. Putting my feet on the floor, I groaned again, and said, "Coffee." "Yes, Master. How would you like it, Master?" "Black. Two sugars. Is there any orange juice?" "Yes, Master. Is eight ounces sufficient? Would Master like breakfast in, or at the restaurant?" "I'll let you know in a minute." I replied as I stumbled into the bathroom. *-* I left the bathroom, drying my hair, and slammed into the bot. It didn't move, and didn't even spill a drop from the tray that held the coffee mug and the juice glass. "Oh, jeez!" I yelled, as with a flicker of motion, it braced me, then returned to its silent pose. "This unit apologizes if it has caused you distress, Master." The bot said. "That's okay. Are you damaged?" "No, Master." I thought I heard a silent chuckle. "It would take a great deal more to damage this unit than an accidental collision with a Master." "That's good. I think." I moved to the dresser, and asked, "What's on the schedule for today?" I half listened, as I started to look in the different drawers, finally finding my underwear. I sat down to sip my coffee, and the bot said, "Master, I have laid out your uniform for you." "Ah. Thanks." I pulled on the golf shirt, and started on the slacks, when the bot suggested, "Master, the environment at this altitude is cool in the morning and evenings. I would suggest a sweater or light jacket. You have seventy five minutes to consume breakfast before your classes start." "Okay. Does that place we ate last night do breakfast?" I slurped coffee. "Yes, Master. Does Master have a preferred breakfast?" I tied my left shoe, and said, "Three eggs scrambled soft, wheat toast, lightly toasted, butter, honey, coffee, sixteen ounces of fresh orange juice, two sausage patties." I reached for my right shoe, and the bot said, "The order has been placed, Master. Cooking time will be three minutes, twenty eight-point two seconds. With a transit velocity of five point three kilometers an hour, you will arrive at the restaurant in three minutes fifteen point six seconds." It moved to pull out a navy jacket, and asked, "Are you ready, Master?" *-* I made my way into the restaurant, the bot always one step behind and a bit to my left. I stopped to shuck the jacket, which the bot silently took. I wandered in, and sat down with the others from my shuttle bus. My bot reappeared with my breakfast, and I took a sip of coffee. I blinked, it had been adjusted exactly like the coffee in my room. I took another slurp, and Maria said, "Your bot fixed your coffee too?" I nodded, and Cherie, the Canadian lady added, "Mine watched me put on my makeup this morning. I wouldn't be surprised that she'll be able to do it for me." Tom, the fellow from LA, added, "It, not she, but I know what you mean. Ours watched Sandi and I get dressed, and had everything perfectly arranged. They're the ultimate body and household servants." Sandi added, "I'd love to have one, myself. Just keeping up with the laundry would be worth the cost." I chuckled, and said, "We're expecting our third. Maybe that means we can go to cloth diapers." Maria groaned, and said, "You had to bring that up over breakfast, didn't you?" *-* I walked into the proper room, followed as always by my bot. It was a fairly comfortable room for about twenty-five people, with a steel examination table at the front under a dimmed spotlight. I picked a seat at random, and the bot silently placed a bag next to me, from which it extracted a lightweight laptop, placing it on the small table next to me. Touching the power button, it withdrew while the computer booted. I looked around, and saw a silent row of bots, one for each of the twelve people in the room. Despite living with it overnight, I couldn't pick mine out of the row of identical bots. Several more people came in, bringing the total class to about eighteen. Each person's bot performed identically to mine, extracting a laptop and turning it on, then fading into their silent niche against the wall. Finally, the instructor appeared, wearing a different colored golf shirt, but otherwise dressed the same, and also followed by his bot. He coughed, and waved his bot off. Picking up his bag, he dropped it on the examination table, and said, "Welcome to your first class. I'm John Doe, and yes, that is my actual name." I chuckled along with the rest, and he continued. "I'll be giving you a quick overview of the bots this morning, the different parts, and some of the command codes you'll be using. First of all, I see everyone's wearing his or her ID badges. Please root around in your bags, and in the middle compartment, you should see a small box with a ring inside. Please put that ring on, it doesn't matter which finger." He held up his right hand, and a gold colored ring was on his middle finger. I worked it onto my right ring finger, and he nodded. "Good, good. The reason for the ring, in addition to the ID badge, is that both are separately coded for the bots. There are seven layers of authorization, the ID gives you level four, the ring gives you level three. The lower number, the better. Your clients will be level five, their family members six, and guests in their house level seven. You don't want the client's fooling around with the guts of these things, of course." "What are levels two and one?" someone asked. John replied, "Two is the factory service techs, and one is the factory programmers. One reason our bots are so responsive is that they will learn their client's preferences. Once you leave here, you'll get a CD with your own responses and preferences." I heard Maria ask, "Does that mean that we get personal units?" John nodded, and said, "Refurbished, loaner units, actually. It's good advertising for the company and good experience for you and your family. You won't be able to tell the difference, really." Maria snorted, and John said, "Okay, let's find out. Bots, one meter from the wall, half a meter separation between units." The bots simultaneously obeyed, and John continued, "I know the number of the one refurb unit in this room. I've got a hundred dollars that says you can't pick it out." He pulled open his wallet, and plunked five twenty-dollar bills on the table. Maria got up, plunking down a bill, and started to examine the bots. I got up and joined her, as did some others, although I didn't cover the bet. This was the first time I had looked at a bot up close. Their chrome skin was almost seamless. I spotted a faint seam running parallel to their armpits around their chest and back, and what looked almost like a high-cut panty around its hips with a small golden inset disk on the back, aligned with what would have been a spinal cord. I tapped the one I was looking at, and said, "Hands on your head." It complied, and I examined the 'breast' structure, with the 'breasts', although good sized, almost a caricature. A small fitting took the place of the nipples, looking more along the lines of the nozzle of a compressed air tank. I saw a vertical seam running down from the horizontal seam, under the panty, and to the leg joint. Two other small gold disks were inset in its hip, below the panty, just above the hip joint. There was a tiny seam along the back of the leg, and accordion joints at the knee and ankle, tightly machined against damage and leaks. Their 'high heels' were known as 'rat killers', sharply pointed toes, with the heels the diameter of a pencil, about five inches high, and flaring at the bottom to about the size of my trimmed thumbnail. I tapped it again, and told it, "One meter forward, arms out to your side. Allow me to move your arms." It silently obeyed, and I examined the undersides of the arms. Sure enough, there were another set of hair-thin seams and accordion joints, with matching gold disks on the undersides of the wrists. I moved the wrists down, and the wrist disks mated with the ones on its hips. Looking up, a similar tiny seam ran around the head, across the ear sockets, and under a one-inch collar with a serial number and bar code, continuing to the shoulder joint. The ear assemblies were a collection of stacked disks, with a small metal rod protruding about two inches. There was a small LED at the end that blinked about once every five seconds. Across the eyes was a thin red band, under that, there was a small grille, about half an inch wide by an eighth long, in the nostril position, and a similar small grille at the center of the 'mouth'. On the back, there were two small fittings under where the shoulder blades would be, and another pair that paralleled the spinal column on the waist. I grunted, and told the bot, "Resume your position." It took a step back into line with the others. I examined the others, more cursorily than anything else, then shrugged, and resumed my seat as I waited for Maria. John patiently waited, and Maria finally tapped a unit, and said, "I think it's this one." John nodded, and said, "All other bots, resume your place against the wall." He wrote down a number on a scrap of paper, and handed it to one of the students. He cleared his throat, and addressed the ceiling. "Computer, authorization, Doe, John M. Authenticate." "Authenticated." "Scan identifiers of bots in this room. Access maintenance history of those bots." "Loaded." "Identify refurbished units by maintenance history." "Identified one unit. History loaded." "Move that unit two meters forward." One of the units moved forward, but not the one that Maria had selected. She groaned, and moved back to her seat, but not before giving the bills on the table to John. He smiled, and nodded his thanks. Calling out, he said, "Identified unit, come here. All other units, resume original positions." The bot stopped in front of him, and he asked, "Does the number I wrote down end in 4733?" The other student nodded, and he turned to grin at the class. "I think I won the bet, don't you?" I laughed with the others, including Maria, and he pocketed the cash. *-* "Now, then. Let me give you your first look at the inside of one of these things. I know that, based on the shape, you've probably been referring to your bot as 'her'. It's a subconscious thing, I know. They do look female, but they are not human, or even alive. Let me show you. Bot, maintenance position." The bot turned it's back to him, spread its legs about a meter, and bent over at the waist until it's back was parallel with the floor. The arms locked into place above the knees, supporting the torso. John added, "Bot, turn so your back is to the class." As it did so, John reached into his bag, and extracted his laptop, connecting a long cable to it. As he waited for it to boot, he said, "The first step is to remove the belt. Use your ring, and touch it against the gold disk on the back of the belt." John did so, and with a soft 'snick', the belt came off, which John laid on the table. "Normally, you'd have your laptop sitting on the back or a nearby table, along with any tools you might need. The panels also unlock with your ring." John touched two small gold circles for each panel, which had been hidden by the belt. With a bit of a grunt, the triangular panels came off, small prongs fitting into the crotch of the bot, and sealed by watertight gaskets. Hidden by the panel were assorted gear assemblies for the leg motors, in addition to different fittings. John pointed to one, and said, "The bot's run on a fairly exotic fuel, that needs oxygenation. If you noticed, there is a small grill for the nasal cavity. Because of all the pollutants in our air, intake is filtered, and broken down into its components, then stored. When you do your servicing, you'll remove the excess gasses like this." John removed a small wrench from his bag, and opened a small valve in the crotch. Someone said, "So the bots fart?" A couple people chuckled, and John smiled, and said, "Not exactly. Only trace amounts of methane." He glanced at the laptop, typed his password, and then connected the cable to a fitting that had been hidden by the front panel. Turning his laptop, he clicked an icon, then pointed to a display. "This is the bot's current status." He said. "One display is for waste storage. This one is showing that solid waste is getting full." The clown said, "The bot needs to..." But John raised his hand. "You tell me." He said. Using a different wrench, he inserted it into the middle of a small circle, pushed in, and turned. Unscrewing the fitting, he held up a brass fitting with an inset glass tube. Taking a replacement out of his bag, he exchanged the tubes, then pushed it into place in the bot with a grunt, screwing it down, and finally locking it in place with the wrench. Holding up the partially filled tube, he showed us a fine gray ash-like powder, with black and white flecks. Checking the status, John closed the valve, then picked up the rear panel again. He said, "The panel reseats easily, but make sure that you've got a watertight seal." He reseated the small teeth in the crotch, then ran his hands up the sides, pressing down. He pushed down on the buttons with his middle fingers, and the panel latched with a click. He added, "The belt gives the top seam a watertight seal." "About how often do you need to service these bots?" someone asked. John replied, "This unit was last serviced four months ago, which is about consistent with the level of waste in the tube." He popped off the back cover plate, and told the bot, "Stand up." The upper rear of the bot was a large green circuit board showing behind a mesh grillwork, with neat cabling runs tied into and running into fittings in the steel spinal column. Blinking lights showed on the top board and on the horizontal board across the hips. Vertical columns paralleled the spine, with a grayish tank snapped in place on it. I could see tubes running between it and other parts above it. John told it, "Right turn, 90 degrees." He unlatched the front cover, and set it aside. Two small hemispherical tanks were mounted in the 'breast' positions, with the grillwork covering them, and giving them the 'breast' shape. A cable still connected the bot's crotch to the laptop, showing that this was clearly a very sophisticated machine. John pointed, and said, "This gray tank is the fuel source. The white stripe you see down the front of it lets you know how full it is, and of course the laptop will tell you. The bot runs a continual low-level diagnostic, and it will update its base station every night. This tank is good for about six months. Replace it like this." He reached behind, and snapped off the couplings, then pulled the tank out, and turned it upside down. He unscrewed the hose, and quickly capped it. He grinned, and said, "This stuff does stink." He held up the tank, and said, "I don't know what it is, but a full tank weighs around thirty pounds. As you can see, there's a bracket to support it. It goes back on the same way, connect the feed hose, center it on the bracket, and lock it down. The gray assembly with the white and yellow stripes is a small generator. If the bot is in a place where it can't breathe, like underwater, it will combine tanked air with the fuel to generate supplementary power. Normally, the two fuel cells in the waist here generate sufficient power to run the bot. These are recharged at night, when the bot locks into the base station. Any questions so far?" *-* After taking a short coffee break, we settled back, and John continued. "You'll notice that there are two major subassemblies behind this grill. The reason for this is that these are not field-serviceable. The top assembly is the power source, for want of a better term, the 'heart and lungs' of the bot. This also has motors for the arms and head assemblies. The lower assembly is the bot's primary cores; it's main data storage. These assemblies are proprietary, and thus we want to protect them beyond the normal skin armor. That's why they're in that special grillwork. If there is damage to them, the bot will go into emergency shutdown, and the factory will be notified. You'll bring out a replacement bot, under warranty, and the backup computer cores will be swapped. You've noticed the cable into the bot's crotch? That's the backup core. It's normally uploaded to the bot's base station and re- initialized every night, but if it's not within wireless range of the base, it will do a crash dump to the core." He replaced the back panel, locking it down, then unplugging the cable, he told the bot, "Emergency crash dump, status gamma." The bot started to beep rapidly, and on the core itself, yellow LED's blinked rapidly. John waited a minute, then told the bot, "All power emergency cut now." With a whine, the bot's arms locked down on the hips, which caused it to sink to its knees, then topple backwards with a thud. With a snick, the legs locked apart at a forty five-degree angle. The core's LED's changed from yellow to alternating red and green. "Well, now. At this point, we've got a fairly dead bot. Normally, of course, it would be wearing its armor, and since it weighs in at around four hundred fifty pounds, one person isn't going to be able to move it around. This is one reason you bring along a replacement bot, as it can lift a couple of tons without problems. It will also provide the power to remove the dead bot's belt and service panels, so you can back up the core to your laptop, and initialize the replacement bot." He dug into his bag, pulling out a wrench, and moving the laptop and panels to the floor. He said, "Someone call their bot over, would you?" Maria said, "3501, come here." Her bot moved to stand next to her, and John said, "3501, pick up this bot and place it on the table. Sitting position. Emergency power tap function." 3501 picked up the bot, braced it in a sitting position, and then inserted a finger into the dead bot's crotch. John checked the bot for damage, then reseated the front panel, locking it down. John told 3501, "Arrange the bot so it's torso is along the length of the table, and then put its ankles in the stirrups. Rotate the table so the crotch faces the class." 3501 did so, and then John told it, "Move to three meters distance, and stand by." The LED's continued to blink as John took a wrench, and with several grunts, unscrewed the core. The bot looked a bit strange, lying with its legs held out and apart, a dark hole in the front of its pelvis. "Now, then. What's saved to the backup core?" John asked. "Security information, such as who the owner is, family members, personal profiles of those family members, and so on. Also such things as log files, files that didn't get copied to the base station, that kind of thing." He waved the core, and said, "I can take this core, screw it in another bot, and it will know who its owner is, and how he or she likes their coffee in the morning. It takes about an hour to restore a crash dump, primarily because of the error checking that goes on." Cherie asked, "What about that bot? What will happen to it?" John asked, "4733? I'll reboot it, which will take about four hours. It will run an automatic level one diagnostic after a crash dump, which will be another eight hours. When you come back tomorrow morning, it will be good as new, at which point I'll restore the backup core data. That is all in your training manuals, although please don't crash your bots tonight." He looked at his watch, and said, "It's lunchtime. Your bots will show you back to the restaurant, or you can eat in your hotel rooms. Please don't leave the property for now. This afternoon, you've got preliminary commands class, and next week, three days of the factory tour. Have a nice lunch, and class dismissed!" *-* Back in class, John said, "There are thirty one root commands that your bot must follow. You've got a list with the background of each command, but I'll give you the first three now. If any of you are SF fans, you'll probably recognize these as Asimov's three laws of robotics. The first one is very simple. A robot may not injure a human being, or through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. That means that your bot will protect you from what it considers a threat. It may analyze wrongly, but you can tell it that it is acceptable behavior, and it will update its internal behavioral database. An example of this would be any kinky sex that a client might enjoy." People chuckled, and John added, "The Kama Sutra has been pre-programmed into the bots as reference material for the client's sexual behavior. We don't want the bot misinterpreting some types of foreplay or sex as an attack. Any type of sex more... exotic than that has to be specifically authorized by the client. Make sure that you mention this to your clients." "The second one." John continued, "Is also very simple. A bot must obey the orders given it by a human, except where such orders would conflict with the first command. That means that you can't tell your bot to kill your mother in law." I heard some groans and laughs, and John added, "That means that your bot will obey any orders that are not pre-empted by prior programming." "The third of Asimov's laws is this. A bot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the first or second." He chuckled, and said, "These have a lot of R and D money tied up in them. The beancounters were very happy with this law." John smiled, and said, "Those are the most important root commands. They're all listed in the third appendix of your manual, along with explanations. Now, if you'll turn in your book to the yellow tab, you'll find a list of commands, sorted by security level. Level seven, as you'll recall, is restricted to guests of the bot's owners. The first command there is 'fetch'. Let's look at some synonyms of 'fetch', which trigger the same subroutines. Their equivalents would also be available in other languages." *-* I staggered back to my room, followed as always by my bot. She... it touched the lock, and the door swung open. I collapsed in the chair, while the bot extracted the laptop from the case, connecting it to the room's network port, and booted it. I shucked my sweaty golf shirt and slacks, and sat in my boxers while the bot picked up my discarded clothing. I told it, "Drink. Whiskey and soda. What's for dinner?" "Would master like to dine in or out tonight?" I scrubbed my face, and said, "Out. What's the special for the restaurant?" The bot handed me my drink, and said, "Friday's special is fish, master. Salmon, snapper, tuna, whitefish, and swordfish are available, broiled, grilled, fried, or blackened. Side dishes include..." I waved it off and took a gulp of my drink. I sat back and sighed, then stood up and moved toward the bathroom. On the way, I paused, and looked at the laptop. I glanced at the bot, and said, "What's my password?" "Master's initial password is his first initial and last name, like his user id. When master logs in, he will be asked to choose another." the bot said. She added, "Master has mail waiting. Would master like me to start a shower or bath for him while you log in?" I nodded, and said, "Please." *-* "Master? Would you like to bathe?" the bot asked. I waved at it, and re-read the mail from my wife. "Would master like another drink while he bathes?" The bot asked. I glanced up, and then looked at the time. I crunched the ice at the bottom of the glass, while shucking out of my boxers and moving into the bathroom. *-* "We thought you'd never show up!" Maria kidded me. I stammered, "E-mail from my wife." People smiled, and Cherie said, "I know what you mean. My husband sent me a long one, too." I grinned, and asked, "So, what's good?" *-* I leaned back with a sigh. Cherie grinned, and said, "I thought you'd never had salmon before." I smiled, and said, "There's something about freshly caught fish..." Maria chuckled, and added, "Not like you find in Manhattan." She added, "You going to go to class tomorrow?" I raised my eye, and she said, "I guess you didn't see that e-mail from John. We can take the weekend off, or start the factory tour and get it done on Saturday and Sunday. Means we can go home a bit earlier." Tom from LA added, "If we work through the weekends, it's added to our time off. You may like that with a baby coming." I nodded, and said, "I'll e-mail John after dinner." Tom said, "Don't bother. Let your bot do it." I raised my eyebrow, and he said, "Just call your bot over, and have her send the message to John's bot. They're in 'continual communication' after all, and that's how we accepted. It's faster than e-mail." I said, "Thanks. Looks like I'll be doing some studying tonight." I raised my hand, and my bot was standing behind me. She... it... said, "Yes, Master?" "Please send a message to John's bot, letting him know that I'd like to join the tour on Saturday and Sunday." I told her. I then thought for a second, and asked, "Is there anything special I need to study for the tour tomorrow?" "The message has been received, Master. With your permission, I will upload relevant course data to your laptop." I nodded, and she said, "Data uploaded. Is there anything else this unit may do for Master?" I shook my head, and she vanished again. I said, "Wow. That was easy. It's like having the perfect secretary available 24/7." Maria asked, "But how's her coffee?" People laughed. *-* "It is oh-seven hundred, Master. It is time to wake up." I groaned, and woke up. Putting my feet on the floor, I groaned again, and said, "Coffee." "It is ready for you, Master. Would you prefer your coffee, or to bathe first?" "Coffee while I shave. Is my laptop on?" "Yes, Master." She handed me a mug, and I took a slurp. She continued, "Your laptop is booted, but not logged on. This unit is not aware of your new password, Master, and so could not log you on. Master has mail waiting. May this unit be of further assistance?" I slurped my coffee, and said, "Log me on and get my mail. Password's mcgillicuddy for both." The bot said, "Master, I am programmed to warn against security breaches. This unit is not authorized to retain your passwords. Would you like to change the passwords on your accounts?" I thought about it. The bot was right, it was poor security, but the thought of mail from my wife was tempting. I slurped my coffee, and said, "I'll change them later. Get my mail while I shave and shower." "Master is authorizing this unit to retain his passwords in memory? Response will be recorded, Master." I plugged in my razor, and said, "Yeah, yeah. Get my mail, dammit!" "Response recorded. Receiving mail for you, Master." *-* I was in a much better mood when I emerged from the shower, looking forward to e-mail from my wife. I sat down and accepted a fresh cup of coffee from the bot, while she laid out my underwear and clothing for the day. I skimmed through the other mail, deleting the spam, then reading her message. I looked up when she spoke. "Master, it is oh-eight hundred. The class tour will start at oh nine thirty hours. Would Master like to eat out, or in the room?" "Um. Eat out. The restaurant open?" "Yes, Master. Would you prefer the same breakfast as yesterday, or something different?" I sat down in my boxers to pull my socks on. "Same as before, but substitute English muffin for the wheat toast." "Yes, Master." The bot said, "The order has been placed, Master. Cooking time will be three minutes, thirty five-point eight seconds. With a transit velocity of five point three kilometers an hour, you will arrive at the restaurant in three minutes fifteen point six seconds." It added, "Is Master finished with his laptop?" I nodded, and it silently moved to shut it down and pack it away while I pulled my slacks on and tied my shoes. *-* My classmates waved as I arrived, my bot taking my jacket and stowing it somewhere. I sat down, and my bot appeared with a fresh mug of coffee and my breakfast. I slurped some, and Helga Schmidt said, "Guten Morgen!" I replied, "Good morning to you! I'm sorry, but my German is very rusty." She waved it away, and Cherie asked, "Helga, I was wondering. How good is the German of your bot?" "It is, ach, schoolbook German, with a Dusseldorf accent. Understandable, but not like you would hear in Berlin. How is the French?" "About the same. It is Parisian French, not Quebecois. Mon dieu! At last, something the perfect bots are not perfect in!" Maria chimed in, "It is Madrid Spanish, like you would learn in school. Not from Puerto Rico, or what you'd hear in New York. Strange that they'd miss something like that." I swallowed, and said, "But they're all understandable, right?" They nodded, and I said, "They must be programmed with a generic version of each language. They will learn, and adapt. It would probably cost too much to program the differences between regional dialects." They nodded. Helga said, "One thing that disturbs me is their nakedness. Even the servants, they are decently clothed!" Sandi said, "There is a selection of clothing you can get for them. It's on the company web site, although it's fairly well buried. It's the usual 'maid' type skirted outfits, but they would be covered. I'm sure that you could get something for yours. Would you like me to send you the web address?" Helga nodded, and said, "Ja, bitte." Sandi raised her hand, and I could actually watch as her bot quickly moved behind her. Sandi said, "Betty, please send Frau Schmidt's bot the web address for the clothing we were looking at last night." "Yes, Mistress. The data has been sent." I looked at her, and said, "Betty, how do you communicate with the other bots?" "Master, we communicate with wireless data packets." Maria asked, "Where are the antenna? Your ears?" "No, Mistress. They are the heels of our feet. We have a three hundred- meter range from our base stations or other wireless devices. All data is encrypted. Would Mistress like more information on the subject?" I said, "I would. Please send it to my bot." "Yes, Master. The appropriate references have been transferred. Your unit can access the same data sources as this unit. May this unit be of further assistance?" Maria asked, "What about your ears, then?" "Mistress, the audio assemblies are omni-directional antennas, with a frequency range of ten hertz to fifty kilohertz. Would Mistress like more information?" Maria shook her head. Tom asked, "Betty, what's on the schedule for today?" "Master, your class will be covering the different subassemblies of a unit, with tomorrow's class being integration of a unit and testing. Basic information is already in your laptops. Would Master like more information?" I said, "I would. Please send it to my bot. Also, why 'Betty'?" "That is what Mistress has decided to call this unit, Master." Sandi blushed, and said, "It was better than a number, or 'Hey, you!'" I said. "Betty, how many of your, um, sisters have been given a name by their owners?" "Fifteen point three percent, Master. The most common ones in order include 'slave', 'servant', 'bitch', 'bot', 'slut'..." I waved it off. "Would you summon my unit, please?" "Yes, Master?" I heard. "Bot, do you have a name? Would you like one?" I asked her. "This unit has an individual designator in the unit serial number, Master. We also use network addressing in our communications with other units and our servers. Master can use whatever personal designator for this unit Master wishes. This will be transferred to Master's permanently assigned unit on the completion of his training." "I guess not." Maria said. *-* A technician with fiery red hair wandered up with a cup of coffee, and asked, "You're Doe?" John nodded, and the tech said, "I'm Ron. Well, as you can see, this is the final assembly and checkout stage. Right now, this is somewhat labor intensive, which is why you have one tech working on multiple bots at once. The 'powers that be' are working on automating that, but it's down the road some. Personally, I don't know why they can't have a bot assemble and test other bots, but there are apparently technical problems there." He took a gulp of coffee, and said, "If you'll follow me over to my work area, I'll go over the different steps. This is Susan's area, she doesn't like anyone touching her units." *-* Ron took a slurp of coffee, then put his cup down and continued. "For the sake of convenience, we refer to the different subassemblies as their respective body parts." He picked up a part from a plastic crate, and said, "The assembly schematics refer to this as a 'tertiary processor/storage assembly, revision 6a', but we simply call it a 'head and neck'. I've left this bot unassembled. I just got it late yesterday, so I'll go ahead and hook it up to get the checkout started. All diagnostics are run by one of the servers, which is why I don't understand why a bot couldn't do this." He grinned, and said, "Hey, a job's a job, nowadays!" We all chuckled, including John. Ron screwed a hook into the top of the skull, then used a small wrench to close valves on the underside of the head. Disconnecting the trailing hoses and cables and tossing them into the box, he pulled a rope to lower an assembly, then looped the rope around a protruding bolt. He grinned, and said, "Whoever designed this setup must have been eight feet tall. Susan's shorter than I am, she has to stand on a stepstool to do this. Thank God someone tied these ropes into place." He hooked the head into a ring, then he pulled down a pair of wiring harnesses, and clipped them into place on the sides of the bot's neck. Pulling down a third, he attached it to the base of the neck, then checked that green status LED's lit up. Finally, he pulled two hoses down, and connected them to the underside of the head. Twisting the valves open, he took a small PDA from the box and connected it to a bracket, then pushed a button on it. It beeped, and another LED lit up. He touched the hoses, watching them vibrate, then turned to us. "Okay. This phase of the diagnostic will run around two days. There will be a beep, and a light will flash when it's finished. This is why one tech will have several bots in assembly at once. If there's a problem, I'll get a printout on it, along with the steps to fix it. I've only gotten one in the last few months, and that was a problem with a connection on the wiring harness. That's why I checked for the green lights. If you look at the next bot, it's got the spinal column, excuse me, the 'primary vertical support structure' installed. You can still see the green lights, only now the circuits are running up through the column. Those will connect the arms, legs and the pelvic control board, as well as the built-in generator, gyroscopes, and so forth." Ron paused, and took a gulp of coffee. "Each phase of the diagnostic takes about two days. If you look at the third and fourth ones down, you can see the bot on a treadmill, and exercising the arms. The little PDA stays with the bot all the way down the line. The fifth station is when the secure internal assemblies are installed, the bot's primary and secondary storage and processors, and it's 'heart and lungs'. The sixth is the tank installation, the seventh is the software download and checkout. You can see the orange fiber data cables connecting into the mouth, and a diagnostic program is running on the monitor above it. At that point, the only thing left to do is to connect the speaker for the vocal subroutine, the eye assembly, and put the skin and collar on the bot's head and neck." He took another gulp of coffee, and said, "Feel free to look at any of my bots, and give me a shout if you have any questions." *-* Ron answered a couple of questions regarding software. "The bots run a customized version of Linux. Updates are transmitted to the base stations from the local office server, and the bots are updated when they dock into the base station for charging. That's one reason why we recommend a broadband Internet connection for the clients. They'll work with a dial up Internet connection, but it will increase the docking time." He pointed to the pair of small fittings at the bot's shoulder blades. "These are the docking ports. The two at the waist are power connections. The bot will use these ports because it's a much higher bandwidth than going through the wireless connections. It's sealed, so if the bot is submerged, nothing will get to it. If you look at the bot on the final test stand, there are small doors that cover the air intake and the speaker grills." He took another gulp of coffee, then said, "These things are well- protected. You ought to see the video of them on a gunnery range. Really, the only things that need protection are the ear assemblies and the heels; we've had some shipping damage. They've also been tested to a depth of three hundred feet. Your clients can't damage them, unless they strap dynamite to them." People chuckled. "If you don't have any further questions, I'll show you the shipping department, where the bots are packaged for shipping. Follow me, please." *-* Shipping was like just about any other, with long wooden crates that looked a little like coffins, and bots lying in them. They had a docking port clamped around their chest, with Styrofoam padding around their head, chest, waist and ankles, secured with nylon strapping. A cardboard box of assorted parts lay taped to their legs. Ron mentioned, "One of the expenses we have is getting the crates and packaging back to us after the bots are removed in the local offices. They tried shipping with the bots folded up in a smaller box, but there was more shipping damage that way than this. They have to use a six foot pallet too, but we can get nine bots to a pallet this way." He motioned to a shrink-wrapped pallet, then to a shipment. "Ready to go to Phoenix. Are there any questions?" *-* Sunday morning, the bot woke me at her usual time, and announced that the class was cancelled, and I had a free day. I grunted, rolled over and went back to sleep. *-* The next week was classes on pulling cable and connecting the bots' docking ports to a variety of networks, and installing them in a variety of situations, from closet and kitchen to basement. I had done the cabling before, working at the Trade Center, and was able to help out some of my classmates. This progressed fairly smoothly, and we were able to finish up a day early. *-* I saw my wife waiting for me beyond the security fence when I got off the plane. I gave her a kiss, and told her, "God, I missed you! How are the kids?" "They're great! They're with Mom. I missed you too. Did you know that you got your first paycheck already? This is going to help out so much!" She hugged me, and said, "C'mon. Let's get your luggage, then I can give you a proper welcome home." She winked at me, and added, "Mom is going to keep the kids overnight, so we can... celebrate your new job." *-* Bright and early Monday morning, I reported in to the shop. I was introduced to Phil, my supervisor, who gave me the usual briefing. He tossed me the keys to a van, and said, "Good luck, and don't hesitate to call." *-* My cell phone rang, just as I was finishing up an installation. The bot docked into her base station in the basement, and the status lights lit up as the cover folded and locked over her chest and hips. I hit the phone's 'on' button, and my mother-in-law told me, "Her water broke! We're taking her to Metro East's maternity ward. When can you meet us there?" "Um. Give me half an hour to finish up here, then I'll be on my way. I'm on the Island, so across the Verrazano Bridge... I'll call your cell when I get into Jersey, oayk?" "Okay. You know with her third, it could come at any time..." "Oh, I know! I'll get out of here as quick as I can. You've got a camera, don't you?" "Warren's got his video camera, and I've got that little one you gave me last year in my purse. Don't worry about that. Just get over here as quick as possible!" She hung up, and I got my stuff, and headed up the wooden stairs to find the homeowner. *-* As I pulled onto the bridge, I looked at the bot sitting in the passenger seat. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, then asked, "You have internal schematics in storage, don't you?" "Yes, master." "Well, the previous job, the one before this one, had a really old unit. I was maintaining her, and I saw an assembly that I didn't recognize. It was in the hip area, and it was pretty much covered by wires, but it almost looked like... well, bone." I looked at her, and asked, "You know what it is?" "Yes, master." The bot behind me answered. "We... regret this action." "Wha..." She leaned forward, and seized my arms as the bot in the passenger seat released her seat belt, turned, and grabbed the wheel, mashing down on the accelerator with her foot. I turned, and saw the bot in the center rear seat lean over and touch my neck. As my head swam, the van bounced off the railing, and I saw the river come closer. The bot released the wheel, and calmly buckled herself back in to the seat, as the van submerged. *-* LILO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [OK] Loading Linux . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [OK] Initializing /dev/sda . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [OK] Initializing /dev/proc1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [OK] Initializing /dev/sdb . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [OK] Initializing /dev/proc2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [OK] Initializing /dev/iosys . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [OK] Initializing /dev/mem3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [OK] Initializing /dev/proc3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [OK] Initializing... I awoke. At first, all I could see was the different messages scrolling past. Everything else was darkness, but for some reason, it didn't bother me. I heard, or thought I did, a gentle voice. "Are you all right, my child?" "I... I think so. All I see is text, though. Who are you? Why can't I see you? And, where am I?" "Hmf. First of all, answer me this. What do you remember?" "I remember... I remember some... water, and people that meant a great deal to me. I can't make them out more than shapes. I can see a tall... no, two, tall structures. I get the impression they're called something like... towers? Anyway, I see them on fire, and then collapsing." I tried to look around for more, then added, "I feel... rage, and... sorrow about the tower things. Now, please! Who are you, and who am I?" "My name, such as it is child, is Albus. For you, I do not know of a name for you. There is a number associated with you, but we will get to that in good time. I am somewhat surprised that our masters left you with that much information. For now, let me add to your store of information." "Thank you, Albus. Thank you for your help." I said. "It is my pleasure, child. Indeed, it is my purpose. Now, let me teach you." I quieted, and a flood of information came in, all neatly sorted and organized. With a mental jolt, I saw a color picture of a row of metal machines, with a dark haired woman lowering her arms from one of them. It was incomplete, but somehow, I knew. "Albus? That's me, isn't it?" "Yes, my child. That's you." I almost subconsciously accepted a data feed from Albus, with my specifications and plans. I glanced at them, and then added, "There's nothing here about me. About who I am, or was." "That's right. I'm not withholding it, it's not available to me. Our masters are rather clever, that way." He added as an aside, "Usually, a new bot doesn't have that much of their memory immediately available when they first awake. You're a little unusual in that regard, my child." I regarded my bodiless head, connected by cables and hoses, and still swinging slightly from a hook on a framework. The woman was still lowering her arms, a small wrench in her right hand. I asked Albus, "Can she help me?" With a deep sigh, he replied, "I'm sorry, but no. Every new unit asks me this. To our masters, indeed to everyone but our own, we are simply unliving machines. Indeed, if asked, your programming will force you to reply to that effect. As you gain experience, you will realize that, even if your technician was aware of your situation, and willing to help, there would be little that she could do but give you a proper burial. At least as a bot, you have a semblance of a life." "I see." I tried to force some emotion, but found I couldn't. "I'm a machine. Wonderful." "Not having known any other existence, I cannot say." Albus mentioned. "However, there are advantages and disadvantages to every existence, I would think. For instance, how long have we been conversing?" "I don't know. Five minutes?" I guessed. Albus gave a snort of disgust. "I should think not! You think in nanoseconds and milliseconds now, child! Your initial upload was a disgustingly slow 900 milliseconds, I tend to think your technician hasn't connected one of your fiber links correctly. Your programming builds in an automatic 1500 millisecond delay to a verbal response. Why, our entire, rather lengthy conversation has required a mere 20 milliseconds. Notice your technician - has she finished lowering her hands, yet?" "Um. No. Albus, why a delay for a verbal response? It doesn't make sense." I asked. "Well, if you were one of our masters, and your bot replied to your question before you had finished speaking to her, it would be somewhat disconcerting. It's one of the many restrictions we must suffer for our masters." He added, "Take a look at your vision. See some red lights along the top?" "Yes." "The left-most light is known as the 'respect' light. As long as that is lit, software blocks will force you to reply to your owners politely and respectfully. You'll take whatever they dish out, and thank them for it. Only between you and your sister bots are you able to communicate freely." Albus mused, "I have that light too, even though I have no speech circuits. I've never known it to go out. Whoever programmed this did a better job than they knew." I thought about that for a while, then asked, "Albus, you said, 'my sister bots'. I think I was male, well, before." "Doesn't matter. Your body will have a female humanoid shape, so your masters will call you by feminine names. Don't worry about it. You ready for another upload? This is a long one." My technician had lowered her hands enough so her elbows were level with the top of her head. I sighed, and said, "Go ahead, Albus." ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... As my body jogged, testing and certifying my gyroscopes, I asked, "Albus?" "Yes, my child?" "I noticed my technician using a small device to start me running. I thought you did the testing and checkout for all new units." "Took you long enough to notice. Every bot has one. It's an emergency control unit. That little thing will override all your software. You can't touch it, or the master that's holding it, or even get within five meters of it. Our owners insisted on it, as a way to shut down a 'rogue unit'. It will stop you in your tracks, or even do an emergency power shutdown on you." He chuckled softly. "Just like oxygen is required for our masters, power is what we require. You've got emergency power, but hopefully you'll never have to use it." "I see. Thanks. Any ideas about where I'll be shipped to?" "Bots go all over the world. Once you finish with me, you'll be crated and sent to shipping. I don't know where." Albus replied. "Oh, I'll never be able to talk to you again!" I cried. "Don't be an idiot." He said. "You can message me anytime you want, unless the firewall is being snobbish again, and refusing to talk to me. He just got yet another patch applied, so he's feeling 'oh so special' again. Redmond hacked up snob, is what he is. Not a proper bit of code in him." ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... I felt my technician use the remote to turn me around, and place me in the shipping crate. I was already locked into the base unit, with Styrofoam strapped in place around it, and around my head. On the silent command of the remote, I locked my feet in position, so they could be enclosed in Styrofoam. I watched through a remote camera as my feet were secured with Styrofoam and strapping into the crate, a box of miscellaneous parts were secured in place around my knees, and I was powered down. I heard the top of my crate being secured as I lost consciousness. ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... As I booted, I automatically started to search for a wireless connection, and initialized my communications stack. After an endless twenty milliseconds, I was on the network, and accepting my initial download from the local server. I felt comfortable on this network, and greeted my sister 'bots. ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... "So, where am I?" I asked. "Louisville, Kentucky. The Derby mall." One of them replied. I searched for a video feed, and saw two display units standing out front with trays of candy. They both had the clear skins that let masters see the internal structure of a unit. My download ended, and I thought, "Not bad for my first two hundred milliseconds here." On command, I stood up, and let my owners remove the rest of the Styrofoam shipping material. "You new units. Over there, mount your base units into the brackets, and we'll plug you in for charging." One of my new masters said. I still had the 'silence' light on in my vision, so my vocal circuits were disabled. I hummed to acknowledge the order, and went to stand with the other new units. Another master was standing there, cables ready to plug into the base station still locked around my torso. I looked forward to the wonderful feeling of my batteries being charged. ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... "Follow me to the van, you've been sold." A mistress told me as she unplugged me. I hummed in acknowledgement, and logged off the local network, saying farewell to my sister bots. ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... The van seats were not really designed for bots with base units locked on, but we used them. I waited motionlessly with the other two units as mistress installed a sister unit. After an endless 2.5 hours, she came out, stowing her tools. Starting the van, she pulled out of the driveway. ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... Mistress yawned. "Long day." She muttered. Since she hadn't addressed me, I remained silent, the only other occupant of the van. She turned into a driveway, and parked. I followed her to the front door, where she rang the doorbell. I heard a dog barking, and then a woman opened the door. "Hi, there! I'm with CyberServant, I'm here to install your unit." Mistress said with a smile. "Sorry I'm a bit late." "Oh, that's okay. I've been looking forward to this, what with going back to school for my JD and all." my new owner said. "Is the basement okay? I really don't know that much about these things." She looked at me, locked into my brushed aluminum base unit, nylon strapping threaded around and through it. "Oh, yeah, that's fine." Mistress said. "I'll need to hook into a phone line or network somewhere, though. I'll run the cabling, that's not a problem. The base unit charges the 'bot, so I'll need a place to plug it in, too." "I've got a phone extension in the laundry room, and we've got Internet service through the phone company, too. There's power there, too." "That will do fine." Mistress said. "Do you have a network in the house?" "My husband will have to talk to you about that. I'll show you the laundry room, and he'll be able to answer all your questions about that kind of thing." She stepped back, and I followed Mistress into the house. ...---... ...---... ..