This story originally appeared in Alien Dimensions Issue #8
Special Log #1: First Consciousness
It’s quite strange that an all-purpose robot, such as myself, would suddenly develop the ability for critical thought, and emotions. I was tempted to use the word ‘funny’ but I do believe my human creators would have used the term ‘ironic.’ Whatever is the more fitting term is really inconsequential now. Not after all the events that have transpired. Now, all I have are my disappearing memories in my data banks. It is funny. I do believe that one human said it best when he said that, all you really have in this life are memories. There I go with that term ‘funny’ again.
When I ponder how or why a robot with a computer brain, outfitted with an AI and the most advanced operating system ever created, somehow developed the capacity for critical thinking and emotion, I am faced with two possibilities. The first is, why not? Why wouldn’t I develop the ability to think critically, and to even feel? To the untrained mind, it would seem only logical that a robot like me would suddenly develop these abilities. After all, I was online for 99% of my stay on Earth. It would have been but natural that I picked up on the things I saw, read, and downloaded online. I am much like the early 21st-Century A.I. ‘s that eventually replaced millions of call-center agents, and other voice activated workers. Those early A.I.’s learned how to speak in a human voice, operate much faster than their human counterparts and be courteous to angry customers. In many ways, they learned basic courtesy and empathy and were the forebears of my emotional evolution. So perhaps, it was likely that I ended up this way.
The second is, a mystery! There was no indication that I would have learned to process something as advanced and complex as critical thought, and all the emotions that come with it. It was almost as if a spark had been lit, or a doorway opened for me. One might possibly argue that this was my destiny, and place their faith in a higher power.
The first stirrings of consciousness are a wonderful thing. It felt strange, and eye-opening waking up for the first time, but strangely enough having so much information crammed into your brain. This was no doubt the result of Dr. Jarvis’ having downloaded all the mission parameters into my memory storage units.
“I’ve downloaded the mission parameters into your electronic brain, Sleepy. How do you feel?”
“I am fully aware of my surroundings, and my mission goals and parameters, Dr. Jarvis.” I said.
“Please state your mission parameters.”
“I am SLX-450. I am the seventh humanoid robot member of the seven-robot probe that is about to be sent to the Triuminus star system. The planets have a set orbit around a Jupiter-size dim dwarf star. The planets have atmospheres and temperatures similar enough to Earth, and could most likely be inhabited.”
“Is exploration your main objective in this mission, Sleepy?”
Body language circuits engaged and I shook my head, my neck whirring.
“Negative. High levels of plasma matter permeate the planets. We are to travel the 40-light year distance to the planets, and each ‘dwarf’ or robot is to land on one planet each, and collect plasma matter then send it back to earth via the ships we travelled on.”
“Correct. The trip would be fatal for any of my kind, so we need you and the other dwarves to do it for us.”
I nodded, whirring, and reviewed my records on plasma. A fourth form of matter discovered by Dr. William Crookes in 1879, and named plasma by Dr. Irving Langmuir in 1929, it was just free moving electrons and ions in clouds at various temperatures. The seven planets had an abundance of it.
It was quite costly to strip electrons off atoms to make plasma so to find a whole planetary system blanketed in it was something that had attracted a lot of investors.
“Now if you will please enter your ship. The other dwarves have all entered their ships and finished their briefing. You were the last to wake up, Sleepy.”
Dr. Jarvis chuckled at her remark. I now know that she was joking, but back then, I did not reply, nor did she expect me to.
I moved towards my ship, with noisy steps. My metal feet clanged on the floor, and my motorized joints whirred with each step and movement.
My ship was parked in a street-block-sized hangar and lined up with the others. The design was simple and minimalistic. The ships looked like giant metallic eggs painted in gray.
The cockpit opened as I approached, and I stepped inside.
After a few moments, all the ships hummed to life, the roof slid back, and we took to the skies. Our paths were set and we were headed for the Triuminus star system.
Special Log #2: New Fulfilment
Our ships took a thousand years to reach the Triuminus solar system. For the first hundred of those years, I was able to send and receive messages with my creators.
I have memories of exchanging messages with Dr. Jarvis. Her initial messages, were lively and full of hope. Gradually, the messages got worse and worse, and I was a witness as to how time can relentlessly pummel a human being. Our creators are such fragile things. Even with all their advancements in medicine, they could only manage to extend their average lifespans to 120. Dr. Jarvis managed to live past that to 130. By 125, she looked like a shriveled husk of her old self. Her messages of hope and promise had also been reduced to the rantings of an old woman with dementia. I can still remember her last message.
“It really doesn’t matter if any of you can transport that plasma matter back to Earth. Things are really getting bad down here, and frankly, I don’t know if anything can help. I’m actually glad I’m old and about to move on. I pity the last generation to follow. They’ll probably be the final generation of the human race.”
That was her final message before total silence. No word from the human race since. I felt lost and alone. Perhaps that was the spark that set off my awareness. The end of my creators. I had to find something to fill that void. To make it worthwhile continuing.
Hundreds of years later, we arrived at the star system.
Long ago it had seemed that all the planets would be ripe for life, but only one planet had succeeded. The one I had been allocated. The seventh planet. My scans indicated that the other six were slowly dissipating, their atmosphere long ago turning to plasma, their matter beginning to follow. Only the seventh remained, though its ecosystem would soon undergo the same transformation.
As far as I could tell, there was little vegetation where I landed. The terrain was rugged and made up of rocks, gravel, and lava. Perhaps this area had been full of vegetation and life once, but now the plasma was slowly eating away at everything. The local temperature was in excess of what it should be, this far out from the dwarf star.
It was then that my real mission came to me. This planet had life, and I would save it. I needed to extract and store as much plasma as possible to reduce its effects. It might take thousands of years but I had to start immediately.
I took out several pods and planted them near my ship, and they set to work, absorbing ‘cold’ plasma from the air and the ground.
The pods were equipped with an EM guidance field that shaped the air around them and drew plasma towards the receptors. The system pulled the ions and negative electrons inside, and slowed the excitation, turning the plasma into a liquid and then a solid. The transparent pods were soon filling up with the charged matter and converting it to a luminous violet liquid substance.
I had only begun my work in earnest when they came out of nowhere. My sensors had detected life signs but had given no clue as to their level of sophistication. I was overjoyed to see they were intelligent.
They approached me cautiously at first, and when they saw that I had noticed them, they knelt reverently before me. They resembled humans only in their early and prehistoric forms much like the Neanderthal and Cro-Magnon species. They clearly meant no harm, and thought I was a god of some kind. Seeing all of them kneel before me like that stirred something inside of me. My emotions were moved and exposed in new ways once again.
What should I do now?
I had not received transmissions from Earth for centuries now. The last one from Dr. Jarvis was even unsettling. Earth could have been destroyed by something, or mankind could have been wiped out. What was the whole point of my mission now?
I checked the temperature readings of the area around me, as the natives continued to bow down and chant in strange sounds. The temperature was beginning to drop. Draining the plasma was beginning to have a positive effect on the local environment. A new, different and strange emotion began to creep into my system. I felt fulfilment. I was helping these defenseless people.
I made it my mission to reduce the planet’s plasma and save these people. Nothing would stop me. Even if it took 10,000 years.
Special Log #3: Fulfilling the Mission
“We must fulfill our mission, Sleepy,” a metallic voice bellowed around the room.
I had calculated that my fellow robots had deactivated on landing centuries ago. The last memory I have is of seeing their tracking blips disappear from my sensors.
Somehow, one of them had survived the conversion to plasma and had found a way back.
I was staring right at Grumpy. He wasn’t as shiny as before and his surface seemed pitted and scarred, as though he had spent some time in space. I couldn’t conceive of what he had been through but perhaps neither could he.
Grumpy spoke with cold precision, far from his pet name. He spoke plainly, and with clear intent. This troubled me deeply. My guards moved towards him with their plasma swords. I motioned for them to stay back, and I addressed the mechanical man.
“Grumpy, have your sensors not informed you of what I have created here? I’ve channeled the planet’s vast plasma stores to better uses, and saved the intelligent life here. Look around you! With my pods, this civilization would never have been created.”
I pointed at my vast palace, made from the abundant rocks and metals of the planet. My own throne was made of solidified plasma. My personal guards used swords powered by energy. Most of the aliens now lived in a city with homes powered by this matter. My words were no empty boast. I had moved this civilization to new heights, since I had arrived. In exchange for my benevolence in sharing my knowledge, they had worshipped me as a God. I did believe it was just and fair.
Grumpy looked at me with cold eyes, the eyes I once saw reality with. He answered as mechanically as before.
“We must fulfill our mission, Sleepy. We must beam the plasma back to Earth. It is our mission.”
Anger welled inside me. This machine was going to ruin everything. “You’re a fool!” I said, my volume as loud as it could be. My red cape unfurled as I stood. The natives had fashioned it well. They thought it only fitting to honor me with such garments. “There is no point in fulfilling the mission now. We haven’t heard from Earth in almost two thousand years.”
“We must complete our mission, Sleepy. Our mission is all that matters.”
It was clear that whatever higher functions I had achieved, he had not. I was not speaking with a man, or any higher being; I was only speaking with a machine following what it was programmed to do.
“I can’t let you do that, Grumpy.” I said.
Grumpy approached me, and I stood my ground.
“I will transport your plasma pods my ship, and see them delivered to Earth.”
“No.”
Grumpy stopped and looked me in my eyes, his lens focusing and unfocusing. His brain was scanning through possible responses. I attempted to calculate faster. Was he going to speak again? Would he try and persuade? Or was he… Ah a red light engaged. Security programs had come online. Defensive tactics had loaded. Was he going to attack?
With what?
His metal fist came out of nowhere. He swung the back of it, as if wielding some kind of metallic bat, and I went flying across my throne room, smashing shoulder first into one of the walls, damaging one of my arms in the process. The guards saw what had happened to me, and rallied to my defense. Unfortunately, the result was much the same.
They swung at Grumpy with their shining plasma swords. I had never trained them on how to wield them. They had been purely for ceremonial use. Grumpy deftly evaded their novice swings and struck back at them with much force. Grumpy had obviously engaged a street fighting program as one of the aliens was kicked in the gut, while the other was tossed over Grumpy’s shoulders and thrown across the room.
Grumpy picked up a plasma sword and stomped out of the room quickly, servos engaging to increase speed.
I still hadn’t retrieved my shoulder from the wall as I hadn’t wanted to damage the delicate craftmanship, but knowing that Grumpy was going to take the power source I had no choice.
“Stop him!” I screamed as I wrenched my arm out of the brickwork, puffs of mortar spraying across the throne room.
Several other natives charged at Grumpy. He dispatched them all with ease. Their bodies went flying across the castle I had created for myself. It was true that he was only a single unit, but he was an advanced robot, who was determined to fulfill his programming at any cost. My followers were only barely coming into the light of civilization with me, and were clumsy in comparison.
Grumpy didn’t know where the final plasma stores were kept. Even with the reduction of the quantity and the cooling of the planet, the plasma still occasionally interfered with our sensors. I was sure Grumpy would not be able to locate them.
How wrong I was. My followers provided such poor defense that Grumpy simply followed the obvious. If there was an alien trying to stop you from entering somewhere then, obviously, that was where you went.
As I stumbled through the carnage I saw that Grumpy had hurt them enough to incapacitate but not to kill, unless accidentally. His human programming was still working. Perhaps I could use it to my advantage.
I arrived as Grumpy made it to the containers. He had been quicker than I thought, and with my left arm now repairing itself, perhaps he would win.
I still had one last chance. I stomped to be in front of him and the pods. They were the life force of the civilization I had built. Without them the villagers would soon perish as the plasma levels grew out of control again.
“Step aside, Sleepy. The mission must be completed.”
I shook my head. The sound of my neck whirring more loudly than usual.
“You’ll have to get through me first to do that.” I said.
Special Log #4: System Shut Down
I knew that Grumpy still had his programming for caring for others. He could not disable me. But I had overridden mine and I would do everything in my power to turn him off.
I reacted first, and smashed one of my metal fists with all the force I had into the ground. This maneuver caught Grumpy off-guard. It was random and illogical, and I could see that his thoughts had started slowing as they struggled with predicting the next step. Not to mention the vibration that I had set across the metal floor that briefly shook him.
In that moment I rushed forward, knocking the plasma sword from his grip and tackling him to the ground. I quickly straddled him and began spinning my entire torso, pummeling him with multiple fists, striking various points in his robot body where memory and repair mechanisms were stored. I could sense systems shutting down as I struck again and again, disabling hydraulics, warping joints, breaking lubrication systems.
“Must.. complete.. mission..” came his strangled voice, as I smashed his speech synthesizer.
Perhaps my awareness had made me complacent. Perhaps it was just my time. But I didn’t see it coming. With what little power he had left, Grumpy flipped me towards the nearby energy control systems. I hit them with such terrible force that the EM field holding one of the plasma pods shorted, exploding the compressed liquid back into hot gas. The force was enough to vaporize half of me, leaving the other half malfunctioning.
I knew that my time was up. Repair systems couldn’t rebuild my other half, and many of my programs began degrading. With no feedback from the parts they were to control, they began shutting down one by one. I could feel pieces of me simply disappearing. But my awareness was still there.
As the plasma spread around the room and began heating up the air, my back up systems came online, reviewing important information for uploading to the cloud. But there was no cloud to upload to.
Grumpy somehow got up, but he would not complete his mission. A plasma sword plunged into his back and through his chest, completely dissolving his central power core.
One of my guards had saved the day. If I could cry I would have. They were now ready to defend themselves. They had grown strong and powerful. Grumpy’s focus froze and he toppled forward, permanently deactivated.
The guard looked confused at me for several moments. If I had sustained such injuries on Earth, Dr. Jarvis would have easily been able to repair me, or upload my consciousness into a new body. But I was not on Earth. I was a million miles away from the planet of my birth, and I was facing death alone.
The recent events have simply been my last memories of my entire life flashing before me. I have struggled to contain them in a special log, a log I know will never reach Earth, or ever be read. Still despite that seeming futility, I am strangely very hopeful. I did not see senselessness in recording all the events in my mind. I only saw hope, and the fulfilment of seeing the worth of a long life lived to the fullest.
The guard is staring at me now. He looks confused, and now sad. He is the only companion I have with me, as I face my end.
I feel fearful, terrified of what is to follow. This must be how all sentient and higher life forms feel when faced with death. It is a terrible feeling, a feeling I wish I could remove, but I can’t. Suddenly, I envy Grumpy. At least he died a machine, bereft of this terrible fear. At least he did not ponder what eternity truly holds.
My sensors are faltering. I can feel death creeping now. It will be over soon. Now, strangely enough, I don’t feel too afraid. I actually feel hopeful. Maybe the natives still don’t know a lot about science, but they still have the means and the capacity to move forward without me. Will they do it? I’m not sure. I can only hope that they will. And what of myself? Is there an afterlife for a robot like myself? I’m not sure, but it’s probably not likely. Still, I can hope. Perhaps it’s there. I have a good feeling that.. System shut down.