Page 5 - Unlikely Stories 1
P. 5

Nothing Left to the Imagination



        about in buildings and underground utility wells and passages. Dick
        had seen many of them in his conurbation.
          “Pardon  me,”  said  Dick.  “I  should  have  acknowledged  your
        presence. Are you also coming in for fine-tuning by the doctor?”
          “Definitely! He’s the best in the West Settlement. And it’s not the
        first time for me, either. It’s no coincidence you find robots in this
        office, at least those of us with advanced brain-like structures. You
        may be a relative oddity, Dick—may I call you that? Thank you—a
        maladjusted human in this era.”
          “Really? I didn’t think I was anyone special.”
          “Ha-ha!” The urbot chuckled. “I meant your condition, Dick. I’m
        not  unusual:  you  must  understand  that,  now  that  you  see  our
        collective biomechanical problem: having a lot of wiggle-room in our
        thought  processes  intended  to  enable  critical-analytical  judgments
        must also lead to idiosyncratic leisure-time pursuits. Yes, I know you
        probably  subscribed  to  the  mistaken  notion  that  we  independent
        robots do nothing but work, work, work. But here is the problem for
        a real automaton: our necessarily excessive neural capacity can lead us
        into  extra-curricular  activities  erosive  of  our  primary  directive.  I
        mean,  I’m  not  looking  for  sympathy,  believe  me!  It’s  a  lot  of  fun
        solving problems for you city-folk. The urban built environment is
        endlessly fascinating.”
          “I suppose so,” said Dick. “It’s all pretty much background to me,
        like the water fish used to swim in.”
          “Until  something  goes  wrong!”  The  robot  shook  with  laughter.
        Designed for human contact, it liked to make jokes and kid around
        with its clients. “Well, I have patience enough for every  encounter,
        every kind of breakdown or crisis. I could tell you some stories! But I
        won’t, of course: that would violate confidentiality. But I do know an
        urbot or two publishing humorous tales of the embarrassment and
        exasperation  people  experience  when  their  conveniences  and
        necessities malfunction—all under pseudonyms, of course!”
          “I  didn’t  know  that,  either.  So  unless  I  can  see  an  author  being
        interviewed, I wouldn’t be able to tell if it might be a robot?”



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