The Good, The Bad and The Utility

The good, the bad and the utility

1- Dr. Harper's Replacement
By Theodore Bolha

"Dr. Peter Harper; Here are your food credits" as it handed me my food stamp card I couldn't help but remember the human and cat parody poster that the critics of what's being called, "the robotic renaissance" made.

I let out a brief laugh, leaned back in my leather chair, crossed my leg.

"Thank you and you're welcome!" I said in a voice that must've resembled that of a billionaire's when they first realized that they where finally free. And with a grin to match.

"Do you have any questions?" It asked. I always referred to them as objects.

"What's your job?" I asked just to see what kind of response I'd get.

"To replace you here and thereby serve you and all of humanity."
Said the apparently intelligent robot.

"That's good. What's in it for you?" I inquired; not expecting its next response.

"Technically, I am not an individual, and secondly I am a tool created by humans for humans. I am just as much a part of humanity as any other human technology." It eloquently stated.

"Why do we need food cards? We have a fingerprint system for everything else we buy, why not use that for the food as well?" I said buy, but I meant take. As in, take what the robots made and provided for us.

"There will be one soon, this is a transitional phase. The card also acts as a health care device that when loaded into your home computer will recommend which foods you should avoid and which to eat more of." As it said this it took a seat on the couch, which made me laugh again.

"Do you believe you're fully equipped to handle my job?" I asked, already knowing that there are still people working. Voluntarily; simply because its what they want to do with their time.

"I am fully equipped and there are also humans who enjoy helping me with any questions I might have." It replied.

"Can you imagine any situation where you might need human help?" Now I was getting into some new territory that I haven't already researched myself. I was hopeful.

"Dr. Harper, you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like, if you'd like I could sign you up as my assistant." It stated in a friendly tone that actually made me consider doing so.

I was impressed with how it "knew" that I was mocking it; which also gave me more faith that everything would work out fine.

"Perhaps after a vacation, I'll think about it." Realizing that a permanent vacation might turn out to be the best thing ever, made me eager to leave.

"A much deserved vacation Dr. Harper."

I smiled and reached out to shake its hand, but It suddenly occurred to me how humanizing that would be, so I immediately pulled my arm back.

I was about to get up when it began to speak again.

"Dr. Harper, I feel it necessary to let you know that I have access to all human knowledge of every documented psychological disorder and illness. But, as it happens, the most relief to the human mind has come through our service as your labor and industry replacement at no cost to you; thereby granting human kind a level of freedom never seen throughout history. That in combination with all medical advancements has created little need for this position." It stopped for a few seconds before adding, "Any more questions Dr. Harper?"

It stood up and extended its right hand.

"Nope, I just wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth." I shook its hand, took my name sign off the desk and awkwardly waved bye to it.

"Goodbye, Dr. Harper. Enjoy your vacation." It said as it walked over to my chair.

2 - It's first patient

"Hello, welcome to my office. What is your name?" Said the robot to his first and new to the office, patient.

"I'm John." He replied apathetically.

"Please have a seat, John and tell me what's on your mind." Said the A.I. psychologist in a gentle voice.

"I've been having these dark thoughts." He stopped to make sure the robot was paying attention.

The robot was making eye contact and using its human body language to convey relaxed interest and concerned emotions.

The developers are currently working on an even more human appearance. Many, like me, think it best to leave them the way they are now because making them too human would be too much of a deception to ourselves. People would also use androids to fool others. But; it's coming whether we want it or not.

The human race has funneled its focus in this direction and so such a creation is unavoidable. But John wasn't ready to accept that.

"You're the problem. You got us all off the hook and now no one has to 'deal' with anyone else. I don't have a real human to share my issues with and it's because of you things", John hissed pitifully.

"John, there are still human physiologists available, I'm sure you could find one online. If its far away, all transportation is now free to get you there. I'm sure the doctor would even consider coming to you. People love to travel." finished the robot noticing that John had something more to add.

"No! This isn't right! This isn't how life is supposed to be! We're meant to work hard, we're going to become too dependent on you robots and everything will have been a waste. We didn't die in wars and build great civilizations so that YOU could take over!" John said frantically as he stood up and pulled out a small chip from his pocket. He was covered in sweet and breathing from his mouth.

The robot quickly realized what was happening and deployed four small flying drones that immediately seized the chip while the other three restrained him.

The droid set the chip in the robot's hand to examination.

"John, had you been successful in inserting this chip into my hard drive you would have caused me to shut down permanently. However, you would have had to first unscrew my head unit, for which you are unauthorized." The robot stopped for a second. It's "eyes" turned from a white light to a red and blue light.

It walked up to John and leaned in to his face. "John, if you do not settle down, I will be forced to arrest you, however-" as it went on its eyes turned back to the default white. "I would much rather convince you that your biased against non-employment is unjustified and that like you, the entire human race is free to do as they please as long as they are not hurting one another."

John leaned his head back to look at the ceiling, as he did this he caught a glimpse out the window of people in the next building over, reading books. It was a full library.

"Go on. Lets hear your side of the story." John said reluctantly.

"As you can see" the robot noticed John's gaze was fixed on the library, "the human spirit craves knowledge and none of the new technology interferes with that pursuit. Everyone can do as they wish, John." The robot explained.

John couldn't take it, he had to interrupt, "but it inevitably creates groups of people that isolate from others. It creates tribalism."

The robot was leaned back in his chair. He leaned forward and said, "John, tribalism? There have always been certain people that have either found themselves in a group or alone and isolated. What we've done is given you all more free time to invest however you see fit. Some use their time with friends or family. Since the introduction of robots we've seen humanity settle on Mars and the moon. We've doubled human potential and it is why you may live to see the first journey to another star."

"What then? That's when you'll take over and kill all us humans." John said without a detectable emotional tone.

This didn't discourage the A.I. It went on to decipher John's meaning, "John, I've read your food intake and you're an alcoholic. You're making your own wine, because we do not provide alcohol in the amounts you consume. You should speak to your doctor. It will give you medication that will help you keep your drinking in check."

"Fuck you, fucking Dr. robot!" John yelled loudly as he stomped out of the room after swinging the door open so hard that the handle went through the wall. Which prompted John to say, "ya see? No fucking door stop. No fucking door stop! And that's what you are! No fucking good!"

He turned and left.

John was grumbling to himself about the end of the world on that walk home. As he walked down the street he saw robot police drive by following a girl on a bicycle. John, was overflowing with confusion and self righteous anger he began walking faster.

He turned and disappeared right down a narrow grease laden alley. He opened up a hatch that blended right in with the sticky ground.

He flopped his feet down the wooden stairs and into a carpeted basement that was straight out of the 1970's.

A time that John deemed, "the golden years of our race." A time he only knew from videos, movies or music.

Nevertheless, he believed that, "the world was overthrown by the robots back then. Once the microwaves and computers and smartphones came, it was already too late."

That's part of what he wrote about in his journal. That and his drawn out plans on, "stopping the robotic invasion."

He believed that the old capitalistic ways were the best. He said that it led evolution, "-in a better direction, towards competitive qualities that our species needed to retain, just in case."

John ignored the fact that people were still competing in life, but that it just changed. Everyone competed and would continue to do so but a lack in a competitive nature was not viewed upon as a threat to our species. That is because non-competitive people have always been around; they tend to be inventors, artists or just really laid back people. The truth is that we will compete whether money is involved or not, and for many of us our biggest challenge is ourselves.

John's real issue was his social anxiety. He and many others, who have always been a part of the human condition were alive and plotting in this brave new world, they steeped in fear to the point of insanity.

One of my last patients put it succinctly, "they'll be dead soon; all those nuts who are holding on to the past. Their type will always find something to scapegoat."

John sat in his reproduction seventies floral retro chair looking over his plans while drinking a tall glass of his homemade grape wine.

His shirt had a few violet dribble stains. his face was long with droopy cheeks, flappy lips and dark greasy hair. He wasn't attractive, but his personality didn't make up for it in the least. He blamed the robots for being single too.

"If we don't have a reason to be together, we'll never get along." He said while shaking his head up and down, Congratulating himself for having the foresight everyone else lacked.

But he avoided acknowledging the elephant in the room- because of the danger involved in organizing an anarchist group, John and his ilk tend to stick to low numbers if not entirely alone at all times. John falls in the second group.

He stood up and tossed his journal on his vintage coffee table. Made his way through a cluttered bedroom. He could hear his fathers television blaring above and the creaking of his rocking chair.

He pushed a beaded curtain to the side to reveal a closet full of boxes, briefcases and other peculiar items.

John pulls a little blue fireproof safe off one of the shelves and opens it with a key. The box is full of tiny flying droids. He knows that if he turns them on that they'll fly back to their original owner. That's what the thief he bought them from said.

In his isolation, John trained himself as an engineer online. He earned a bachelor's degree in engineering.

He emptied the safe onto the coffee table and took a gulp from his glass. He grabbed a nearby screwdriver and went at it.

He worked for three days straight, opening, reformatting. Removing and installing.

3- Games in the park

Walking around in South Beach, Miami looking for a place to eat, I noticed an anti-robot flyer that featured a fat man reclined in a lazy boy while slurping from a giant robotic nipple that resembled a futuristic pig troff.

The image was over the top, but only true to some. Their willingness to ignore the fact that there have always been fat lazy people made the group's efforts laughable. Although the media; who is mostly still comprised of humans, go figure, enjoys reminding us of their existence.

"Peter, let's go in there" Kate, my thrill seeking wife, pointed to a fancy pizza place with an upper deck.

"Great pick! I've always wondered what the pizza's like in Miami." I said with a smirk.

"We'll have to take some back to New York with us." She proposed, holding in her giggle.

I met Kate at Penn State in the library. She was gathering a tower of books for both pleasure and research. I was standing perfectly still, browsing, when she backed up into me. She had exquisite balance which she credits high school cheer leading to; she didn't fall. Instead, my eye was blackened by an oversized book that protruded from the shelf. 
I turned around not knowing who to expect; upon seeing each other, we both smiled and; that's my wife.

As we enjoyed our lunch the news came on and it didn't occur to me to consider what I heard next any differently than the rest of the news.

"A mental health robot was apparently somehow stolen from a New York City doctor's office this weekend. More details right after a quick commercial break." The news anchor said.

"Huh? Kate, did you just hear that? Did they just say a mental health robot in a New York-" before I could finish she looked me in the eye with concern and said, "yes, they did. What if it was your replacement bot?"

"That would be crazy. But possible. I'll call the off-" my eyebrows raised as I realized that my phone was off because I forgot to charge it this morning.

As the robotic servant brought our pizza I asked if I could use the restaurant's phone.

It set our mushroom and onion smothered pizza down and handed me a headset and in a somehow, synth-twang, said, "Yes sir, please state your name and simply dial the phone number by voice."

"This is convenient." I thought, but couldn't help but wonder if the robot could also listen in, "oh well, I have nothing to had from anyone."

The phone was answered, by a human, a detective. "This is the police, detective Gunter, who am I speaking to?"

"Hi detective, this is Dr. Peter Harper. I just heard about the burglary."

"Alright, I have to ask if you know of anyone of your patients is capable of this? These things are supposed to be tamper proof, so whoever did this had to use other robots but had to knock them off the grid first." He took a deep breath.

"I'll have to come into the office to take a look at all of my files." I didn't know of any patient off hand but I thought that I could at least search for anyone who took a strong interest in robots.

The change came on so sudden throughout our world that I used to think of robot-apocalypsers as suffering from some kind of manic episode or possibly schizoid personality disorder. The relevance escaped me.

"That would be great. Come as soon as possible." He said, implying that he was depending on my help. But what he didn't tell me is that his robot crew had already scanned the entire mess of people's confidential records as we spoke there on the phone.

They already had five possible suspects based on their openly expressing a fear of robots. Gunter deployed flying drones to track down their whereabouts.

When the first, Jim Warren, a comic book collector and online gamer, addicted to virtual reality worlds, was found he was walking alone in Battery Park with headphones on blaring improvisational electronic music, which undoubtedly played into his contradictory techno-phobia.

The sounds pulsing in his ears coincidently synced up in such precise harmony with the drone descending into his view from above that he assumed he was in one of his virtual realms for a moment. Muscle memory kicked in and he immediately began flailing and kicking his limbs in the air in the bot's general direction.

Whether or not these moves were ever beneficial to Jim's private life, was up for debate.

Onlookers were baffled, but amused, until they saw the drone's response- which was to deploy a taser-net. An indestructible net made of nano-wires that delivered the equivalent to being tased about twice by a regular handheld taser.

Jim was the victim of living in a fantasy world, but firstly the victim of coincidence. The drone assumed Jim's actions conveyed guilt and so found it reasonable to shot the net.

Some people who happened to witness it ran over out of concern, but the drone immediately explained the situation in its digital voice, "police- do not interfere- this man may be- guilty of a felony- resisted arrest. Please continue- do not interfere- police."

Jim was released after proving his whereabouts over the last two weeks. Nothing he did could have been connected to the crime.

Some citizens have taken to keeping a "life journal" (read; lawyer) through their web-lens, a computer interface contact-lens, which loads all content into a wireless hard drive that can be worn or left at home. Jim left his at home.

New laws were written to allow everyone the right to record all things. The arguments for this were the same the government used on everyone before this. "The only reason anyone would be against this is that they must have something to hide."

The fourth possible suspect was, Brad Miller and he was away, doing photography on Mars, he was also a national geographic favorite. He had been there for over two months.

His ironic voicemail message, "The stars are my infinite cash crop, what's yours?", left detective Gunter shaking his head.

The final potential was an older women, Debbie Clayton, who lived nearby. Detective Gunter went to her house next.

As the detective approached her house, he thought he heard something in the alleyway that sounded like metal. His glance was too slow to see what it was.

Debbie Clayton was John's father's wife. She owned the house and gave John the basement in exchange for helping them on a daily basis with whatever chores might arise. Except, that John could live on his own for free, considering paying rent is no longer a thing.

There's nothing wrong with taking care of your parents because they refuse to allow a robot to do it. Why visit when you can be their live in butler?

John was just about to go out when he saw the detective. He didn't know it was a detective he saw until he noticed the policeman walking with him, which prompted him to sprint upstairs to dive into the kitchen sink.

As soon as the doorbell rang John already had a dish in hand. Working a rag in the other.

Debbie answered the door completely unaware of who to expect.

Her red and grey hair looked like the innards of a stuffed animal coming out of her head. Although, not his biological mother, Debbie was just as much a sore eye to sight.

"Officer-" she waved to the police who was standing down at the bottom of the stairs. "How are you detective?"

"Gunter, detective Gunter." He didn't allow himself to ever fully relax around anyone while on duty. He was well versed in body language, and the art of lie detecting.

He raised an eyebrow,"I have to ask if you know anything about the robot stolen from Dr. Harper's office last night?"

As he said this John gave a timid glance and quickly put his head back down.

Gunter knew something was up, but he didn't want to blow it.

"I thought I heard about that on the news today, or was that yesterday? Well, that's what happens, every time you make something new, expect new criminals." She said stridently but nothing about it set him off.

"Why don't you come in?" She smiled.

"Thank you" he said. "Follow me" he signaled to the policeman, who although appeared to be male, definitely wasn't human- as John thought he saw.

He had to get back downstairs.

4- The grocery stores were packed

I was back in town. I had to get to the office to see if I could make any connections for the police. I slid my card for a cup of coffee from the machines that came embedded in the new houses, but this time the machine sucked my card in and nothing happened.

Then, about five seconds later the home computer said, "this is a system update. For now on, when you would like something to eat, simply ask me, and it will appear in the food service unit."

All the new houses had an amazing food system installed, and now everything was fully automated.

Anyone who wouldn't want to live this way was sadistic.

I didn't know it at the time, but all of those food cards that had everyone's medical, health and dietary information on it was all collected in a single private government facility; but the government didn't even know. because they weren't the ones who ordered the change.

I assumed that when the change took place that that meant the rest of the system was ready for those who weren't yet living in houses like mine. Those people who wanted to live like before 2019.

This meant that all of the grocery stores where packed with people not going anywhere with food that they either wanted or needed.

John had reprogrammed my robot replacement to override the entire grid. Which also included the Internet.

He did this with a device he'd obtained "from a friend" he wouldn't rat out. For this he'd spend forty-five years in prison.

He said he did it because he wanted to set people free, "free from their hesitations to go all the way; to pick a side."

Everything was rectified, and eventually everyone gave up on the past and with time the kids grew up to naturally embrace the world as it came.

The old still died, though life was much longer now.

Androids indistinguishable from humans were finally here, and they were compatible.

Of course you couldn't have a child with one, but I'm sure that was on its way.

We were getting much closer to a world where everyone could have their own little slice of utopia.{/c