Page 7 - Unlikely Stories 1

Nothing Left to the Imagination

“Thanks, I’m fine. When you finished describing your ailments it
reminded me of mine, and I slipped back to a state of depression for
a moment. I’ll make it until I can get treated—it won’t be long, now.”
“That’s good,” said the urbot. It could not ask any more questions
without overstepping its bounds of human interaction. Philips,
however, did not need any stimulus to begin explaining his own
reason for seeking medical assistance.
“I’m sure you bots have a catalogue of complaints most people
never hear about. Nobody’s perfect, after all. But ever since the
Gaiatechs saved the planet from utter ruin, the Schedule for humans
is very clear on diagnosis and treatment of behavioral disorders. If we
can’t find an identity slot, then we must come in for help. The
services adviser screens us and recommends a modality. Difficult
cases, the ones with anti-social or self-destructive manifestations, or
anyone simply unable to take the next step, is taken by botcops to a
facility for rehabilitation. If any of those people prove to be
motivated biologically and irremediably, then they cannot be sent
back to play and share with others: they are taken care of in isolated
compounds managed by repurposed killbots.”
“I’ve never seen one of those,” said the rubot. “Those are
regrettable survivals of a violent era. I haven’t seen any crazy people,
either.”
“You normally wouldn’t,” rejoined the urbot. “People aren’t
allowed in your workspace. I’ve seen quite a few killbots. They have
kept their ability to stop a smash-and-grabber or white-collar criminal
with as much force as is required. But all of them were
reprogrammed after the Crash to recognize subtler forms of
unchecked negative human interaction with the ecolonomy and other
people, and to represent a last line of defense against the violation of
norms now recognized as crucial to planetary survival. If Dick hadn’t
kept his appointment today, sooner or later he would have received
their scrutiny.”
“I know that!” Dick was a little indignant. “I want Doctor Isaacs to
help me. I’ve no desire to hurt myself or anyone else. If it turns out
that my problems can’t be rectified, well, then—oh, I don’t know.

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