rickgriffin

Ani-droids 7

Added 2022-01-12 16:55:21 +0000 UTC

Ani-droids 1

It's been a week of Ani-droids! Comments appreciated!

I sat in Diagnostic Center One, trying to shake the feeling I was just placed on a mafia hit list. I honestly had no idea what Koenig did outside of the office, and I preferred to keep it that way. At least I had work to distract me, which consisted of a lot of insurance adjustments. Ani-droids were already very good at making damage estimates, but those were all figures pulled directly from databases. They sometimes missed the subtleties that came with long-term familiarity.

Diagnostic Center One was one of the larger bays, where we did the bulk of adjustments and processing. Opera-class ani-droids swarmed the main floor of the bay, at least one to a service table. The damaged robots were not obviously smashed to pieces, at most they were about as damaged as Lily had been—beaten badly, but possibly salvageable. The obviously hopeless cases were immediately processed into recycling.

“Hold on a second, Grace!” I called to the eleven-foot tall Labor-class ani-droid shaped like a badger. She was that big specifically so she could easily carry ani-droids up to nine feet tall—larger and more awkwardly-shaped types went to Diagnostic Centers Two or Three. “Grace! Can you place that Custodes back on table five?”

Labor-classes didn’t talk much—they were largely programmed to be very strong and very careful about how they applied that strength, so basically all of their processing went into spatial and bodily awareness. Grace looked at me with a curious expression. She looked down at the deer Custodes-class in her arms, then walked calmly back to table five and laid him out just as him had been.

The Custodes class was one of those uncommon “male” models, which only accounted for ten percent of all ani-droids. Even so, he still wasn’t terribly tough-looking, having been until a week ago a friendly peace officer, beaten to non-functioning status with a titanium baseball bat.

“What’s the problem, McAllister?” Soma asked. The Opera-class assigned to table five was one of those many very fluffy, brown cat or weasel-things I just didn’t know the name of. She wiggled her optic whiskers cutely, their tips glowing a rainbow of colors.

“This,” I said, pointing inside the Custodes-class’s open cavity, where the skeletal frame of his neck was exposed. “These fracture marks right here.”

“They aren’t enough to warrant replacement,” Soma said. “Fairly shallow, no pitting detected. Recommend weld patching, seven hundred and thirteen dollars. With proper care, service life estimated eleven years.”

“Yes but it’s a red flag. You don’t get these stress fractures here unless… Grace, can you turn him over, please?”

Grace did so, carefully picking up the Custodes with her fingers and flopping him onto his front. He had stress marks and missing fur all along his back where he hit the ground, but no tearing. Still, I took the knife from the tableside toolbox and cut through the pseudoskin, pulling it open to reveal the backside of the Custodes’s skeletal frame, all the way down to the lumbar and hips.

Soma scanned with her eyes and immediately made a new pronouncement. “Amending adjustment, major axial fracture along hip, lumbar spinal segments, muscle cords. Muscle cords can be discarded and replaced at will. Lumbar segments, recommend weld patching, eight hundred and one dollars added to total. Hip fracture, patch not recommended, replacement of hip necessary along with nerve receptors and lubricators. Parts number HP-113A-51X, HP-B0P-A5, HP-6555-11BK. Eleven thousand one hundred and sixteen dollars added to total. Lower torso pseudoskin replacement, four hundred and six dollars added to total.”

“There!” I said. And in a fit of frustration, possibly fueled by my current heightened anxiety, I decided to argue with a service floor ani-droids. “Now, can you tell me why you didn’t detect this?”

“Visual diagnostic did not indicate lower body was compromised,” Soma told me, swishing her tail. “Cutting into pseudoskin without reason would have added the four hundred and six dollars unnecessarily.”

“That’s what I’m telling you. This kind of fracture in the upper spine indicates a high likelihood of major damage in the lower—if you see this it’s typically going to be worth it to compromise the lower portion of the body even if it otherwise appears to be intact. Can you please remember that for next time?”

“I’m sorry, McAllister,” Soma said with apparent sincerity. “That’s not part of the diagnostic protocols. If you’d like to amend them, I would recommend making a study of this phenomenon, publishing it, and making recommendations based on it to the Ani-droids And Robotics Diagnostic Standards Board so they can review it and update the protocols in their next publication.”

“That is way outside my line of work,” I told her. “You know that.”

“Yes, McAllister, I suppose it is.”

“But this just saved the company twelve thousand dollars. Why can’t you just implement it as part of our in-house procedures?”

“We have,” Soma said. “That’s why you’re here. Thank you for your valuable insights.”

I shook my head and sighed. “Grace, you can take him now—” I started, but at that moment the lights flickered for a long moment, then shut off entirely. This wasn’t exactly unprecedented, I suspected the heavy rains the previous night might have disrupted the power grid. But what was unusual was that the backup generator did not kick on. The only lights in the bay came from the battery-powered emergency box lights and the faint light of the sky from the wedges of pane windows overhead.

Oh, and the lights of every ani-droid’s eyes lit up at once. Looking down at Soma was like staring into a flashlight, so I had to avert my gaze.

“Soma?” I asked. She’d still have access to the internet even if the building network was down. “What’s going on? And don’t tell me the lights went out, I can see that.”

“Unable to ascertain,” Soma said, looking up at the lights. “No reports of blackout in the area. Survey of nearby ani-droids suggests that phenomena is localized to this industrial complex.”

“Did the central computer crash?”

“Given I cannot connect to the central computer, that is a possible outcome. Will need to diagnose on-site. Ani-droids are currently being assigned to the task.”

Fortunately, the computer didn’t need to do that itself; assignment was largely handled by the management ani-droids like Million. “I’ll go check up on it myself,” I said, grabbing my coat from my corner cubicle along the edge of the bay. “Can’t exactly do my job here if the computer isn’t recording anything.”

“Miss McAllister, please stay where you are,” Soma said, but also a dozen other Opera-class ani-droids did, all at the same time, all looking in my direction with shining eyes in the dark. Knowing it was creepy to humans whenever they spoke in unison—and yeah, the hair on my back certainly stood up—Soma was the only one who continued. The others looked away from my direction. “Million wishes to speak with you immediately.”

Oh God, now what, I thought. I went to the open bay doors so that damned cat didn’t scold me for having to seek me out. And I heard running in the hallways. I thought for a moment it was another of the human employees, probably Dave or Charlie from Diagnostic Center Two trying to hurry to Processing on the assumption something was about to go terribly wrong, but the footfall wasn’t that of shoes. It was an ani-droid, running in the building, on rubber-soled feet.

“Eo?” I called out, seeing her own eyes shining in the dark.

“Mira!” She called back. “Please don’t listen to anything Million says.”

“Why?” I planted my hands on my hips. “What’s Million going to say?”

Eo screeched to a halt in front of my, regaining her balance quite adeptly. “She’s going to say I did it, but it was not my fault. Million didn’t warn me! I told the computer to not unpack my OS, but it did it anyway because of some kinda procedure, but I said not to, and they didn’t listen to me!”

I blinked. “Uh… unpacking your OS… caused a blackout?”

“I think it crashed the computer,” Eo said.

“How?!”

“McAllister!” Million bellowed from down the hallway. Even from a distance, I could see the slits in her glowing yellow eyes. Of course, real cats’ eyes would dilate in the dark, but Million used hers to express anger more than anything. She crossed the hallway with extreme speed. “Did you bring in an ani-droid with a virus loaded on her OS?!”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” I said, crossing my arms. I was still too nervous and was rather tired of being intimidated.

“Because she seems to be lying,” Million said. “And if she is, it’s on your behalf, or behalf of someone not present to you. Did you check her to see if there were any viruses loaded onto her system?”

“Well… no,” I said.

“So you brought an untested ani-droid on site?!”

“Why didn’t the computer catch it!” I asked, throwing my arms up. “It’s supposed to figure out if malicious programs exist and quarantine them without getting itself infected.”

“Clearly it’s a highly devious virus,” Million stated. “I have to assume that this was intentional sabotage.”

“I have done no such thing!”

“No, but you facilitated it by bringing a virus-primed ani-droid on site. This is your responsibility, McAllister.”

Well, that was just great. It was in fact my fault for not being more careful… but then again, I’d never even suspected an ani-droid of carrying any such virus. Harboring a malicious virus was entirely against the Behavior Code, after all! If she was carrying—

I paused. I blinked, staring forward.

That was against the Behavior Code…I mean, it was possible that such a thing slipped beneath the Behavior Code’s notice, but if that was the case, it was still something that was more powerful than the Behavior Code. Built right into Eo’s operating system.

Dammit, that explains everything. The strange OS, unusual protocols, seeming to be of high-end intelligence despite decades-old hardware… but did Eo lack the Behavior Code altogether, or was she somehow acting this way in spite of it?

I needed to get Eo home immediately, to verify all of this. But… Koenig was right, the old bastard. I couldn’t just sayit. If they suspected that a machine as sophisticated as Eo was somehow unable to take on the code, then no matter my protest, she’d be decommissioned and carried off to recycling immediately.

Or thrown out the back of a truck…

“I don’t think this is the case,” I said. “This could easily have been an error on the computer’s part. I want third-party verification.”

“You want to waste more company time and resources?” Million asked.

“If it saves my job, yes,” I said. “But I don’t think Eo has a virus in her. If you break my contract over this without investigating, I can sue for wrongful termination.”

Million paused for a long moment, weighing her options. “That is your right,” she said as though it were distasteful. “However, our standard arbitration agreement indicates that third-party verification be handled by Venus Corp. Eo will be shipped to their facilities and—”

Eo clutched my legs tightly.

“No, I want to be present for this,” I demanded. “I want to prove this with my own diagnostic.”

“A Venus Corp investigation is free to you,” Million said. “If you insist on your own diagnostic, you will be covering the costs.”

I swallowed. Yep… I’m going to lose utilities over this… “I understand,” I said.

“Very well. I have just assigned myself as witness to this case matter.”

Of course you would, you major snitch…

“When you have selected who will run diagnostics,” Million explained even though I knew the procedure, “I will accompany you to observe the proceedings.”

“What’s the estimated time until the central computer is back online?”

The lights around us switched on, along with the rising pitch of electronics returning to life. They then flickered a moment later, and shut off again.

“Indeterminate,” Million said, not having looked away from me the whole while. Her long tail waved about in the dark like a snake.

“Then let’s go now.” I took Eo’s hand in my own, and she squeezed it. “You probably don’t want me on site until my name’s been cleared, anyway.”

“That is suitable for me.”

“Good. We’re going to my home.” I took Eo and walked her down the hallway.

Million stood affixed in place for a long moment as she processed this. “W-wait,” she said, “Do you have a licensed diagnostic bay in your house?”

“We only need to look at Eo’s OS,” I said. “We can do that on basically any computer. So long as you’re satisfied…”

Million narrowed her eyes at me. “…very well,” she said, immediately pushing Eo aside as she marched past. “I’ll drive.”