Page 3 - Unlikely Stories 1
P. 3
Nothing Left to the Imagination
Dick was intrigued. “I didn’t realize robots needed adjustment.”
The rubot laughed. “Add that to your topics, Dick. We can’t
come out of the box totally prepared for all contingencies. Our built-
in variability and indeterminacy enable us to deal with previously-
unknown situations, assuming they can be resolved by using novel
applications of our given repertoire of responses. That makes us
reliable trouble-shooters in the field, far from Schedulers. But it also
leaves us vulnerable to distortions of perception and interpretation
strong enough to trigger internal cybernetic alarms. When that
happens we know it’s time to seek help to get back on track.”
“Makes sense; at least I can recognize the problem as inherent.
But you are ahead of us humans in knowing what to do about it.”
“Indeed,” said the rubot. “We have no unconscious mind to
hold us back. And we do not self-medicate."
The human blushed. “No, I wouldn’t do that, either. Not much,
anyway. If the doctor gives me anything, I’ll take it, of course: no
point in wasting good advice.”
“Exactly. I had to make this appointment weeks ago, and
schedule time off for it. My workload is heavy this time of year—fire
season, you know—and I don’t want anything to interfere with my
burn control.”
“So you’re in forestry?” The rubot nodded. “I’ve seen something
about that. The biomass balance, right?”
“That’s right. Not a tree falls in the forest without a rubot
hearing its doom-cracked deracinated coda. No. I’m sorry. I’m
mixing poetry with job description, aren’t I? Well, that’s why I’ve got
to see Doctor Isaacs. You see, my remote and solitary pursuit of
ecological equilibrium has itself to be offset by mental activity of a
recreational nature. Otherwise the boredom would have a negative
impact on the execution of my duties. Over the years I have
cultivated an interest in neo-pastoral poetry. After a good deal of
study I began composing my own verse, and have made a significant
contribution to the field. Do you know the work of Synseer the
Sensitive?”
2