Page 5 - Unlikely Stories 1
P. 5

Nothing Left to the Imagination



        developments. If I go too far again, then I’ll be back here, waiting for
        a rebirth of inspiration.”
             “Excuse me,” interjected the robot on Dick’s right. “I couldn’t
        help overhearing your conversation.” The human turned to look at it.
             His  other  companion-in-waiting  was  an  urbot,  intended  for
        work in a city. With long slender limbs and drop-down wheels on its
        ankles, it was optimized for getting around in busy streets and poking
        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

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