A Robot Story

On a platform high in the clouds, a city floated populated by robots. The robots had no knowledge of their origins, and thus made up all sorts of odd fantasies regarding their history, exchanging one idea for another depending on the trends of the time. The city stayed afloat and powered by technological wonders that humanity will someday utilize on a massive scale, unimportant to mention here. Why, in a science fiction story would the technology be unimportant to discuss, you might ask. Because this story is about something different than technological wonder, and you will see what it is about in the coming pages.

At the center of this city stood a factory, a factory which builds robots. No robot alive had seen who built it; thus the source of their wild tales. A new robot would pop out of the factory every so often, sometimes in pairs, sometimes in threes, and at times even in groups of fifteen or twenty. On a day like any other, a robot was born from the factory. It was night, actually. Before the factory was an open square, at times in the distant past this square was the center of the community, much like the steps of the government buildings in Athens from those old paintings, where robots would collect, and speak, and greet their newcomers with glee. But today, as the newborn robot emerged from the factory, the square was dark and empty.

The first thing any robot would ever do when emerging from the factory was stumble. It's a very important business being born, after all, and since this robot had never used its legs before, it stumbled along like all the rest, nearly falling, but catching itself on a decorative post in the square. Why the post was there, none could tell, but it bore the scratches from hundreds of metal hands clinging onto it for dear life, so the population was generally thankful for its existence. 

The next thing any robot ever does is issue forth its name. It must be in their programming; no robot had ever probed deeply into their minds, except by thought alone, so none had discovered the secret at the heart of their make-up. This robot issued forth a series of sounds, in robotic language, which sounded something like our English letters, M – C – H, so for the purposes of this story, we will call them MCH. And, for the time of this tale, all words spoken in the robotic language will be translated into the English language, so we can understand the meaning of the tale.

After a robot speaks their name, there is a number of things they might do. They may look out, over the city, and see the beautiful buildings that touch the sky; or, they may work on an acrobatic act, learning to walk all the better; or a great number of other things too. MCH chose to look directly up, and saw the heavens shining above. Bright stars, and a beautiful white moon in crescent. This robot was filled with wonder at the sight, and nearly fell backward were it not for the post again.

Whatever wonder our MCH was filled with was quickly squashed by the most annoying sort of distraction: an advertisement. Yes, my poor readers, an advertisement. Up above, hiding in the shadows between the rooftops of nearby buildings, was perched a gaggle of spherical drones, each with one large black eye and an anti-gravity emitter at its base, waiting for the next newborn robot to emerge from the factory. One such drone rose up, being the only one paying any attention at this time, and rushed down with uncanny grace, right down into MCH's field of vision. MCH could only see this robot now, and it startled him so much he tried to swat it away, accidentally forgetting that they were holding onto a support column and falling flat on their back. The drone flew in closer, and started to speak.

“Well, hello there! Welcome to life in the big city!”

MCH propped up, rubbed their head, and tried to ignore the drone completely. But, the little drone was quite persistent.

“Now that you're all ready for life, it's time to start getting to work! You have your choice of a number of jobs to perform in the city, and it is my duty to get you situated into your new life! How exciting!”

MCH was clearly not excited at all. Rising, and looking back up into the sky, MCH was filled with purpose, or rather the seeds of purpose, for MCH did not knew exactly what this feeling was that was filling them because of the stars above. MCH wanted to rise up into the sky and see what these interesting lights really were. Looking around, MCH spotted a building with protrusions leading all the way up its sides, perfect for a robot such as they to climb and get a better look at the city around. MCH started to walk towards it.

The drone flew in front of MCH and did an annoyed little dance. “Just where are you going? You do not know the lay of the city. You haven't even chosen a career, yet! I...” MCH gently pushed the drone out of the way. This drone had obviously never been treated this way before, and it floated for a moment trying to make sense of it all. 

When MCH reached the side of the building, they held onto one of the protrusions and tried their weight. Amazing, thought MCH, my arms can carry my weight like my legs. With a bold push off the ground, MCH began to climb the side of the building.

The drone had floated for a minute, thinking all of this over, and then it really dawned on them what this newborn robot was doing. 

“Just what do you think you are doing?” 

The drone flew over next to MCH, who was now several meters in the air. 

MCH responded, “I am going to see the sky.”

The drone scoffed, “The sky? What about your job?” 

MCH replied, “I want this job.” 

The drone said, “Well if you like to climb, then I have the perfect job for you, deconstructing old buildings. You can climb, and carry a very fashionable melting-torch, and...” 

MCH interrupted, “Climbing is only a way to the top. I want to look at the lights in the sky. ”

The drone looked up. “The stars?” 

MCH stopped, “Stars?” 

“Our ancestors, the first robots, didn't see the stars, you know, never even looked up to think about them. Nobody has cared for many years what they may be. We are a city of rational robots. What is out there is not important. What is important, is getting you to your job immediately.”

“I need to know more about the stars,” said MCH. “What can you tell me?” 

“Nothing more.” chirped the drone. “You are due for work. Now, come along, climb down from this place and let's get you placed in a job. Your society requires you.” 

MCH resumed climbing. The drone kept shouting all sorts of unconvincing requests, but MCH was unconvinceable. The building rose high into the sky, taller than any other building in the square. MCH pulled themselves up onto the rooftop, seeing the vistas above the city.

The view was spectacular. Far into the distance, the epicenter of the city rose up above the sprawl of smaller buildings below. The city stretched in all directions from the center in perfect symmetry. It seemed that over half the city was laid out recently in perfect rows, with buildings all crafted to match each other, and the other half remained from an older time. Active construction was taking place in a long strip of road extending between the city center and the edge of the city, far off. Where the city ended, the sky took up, filling all the heavens with shining stars. 

We of today know that pollution from our earthen lights prevents us from seeing the spectacularity of the heavenly bodies as our ancient forebearers had seen in the remote past. But there was a peculiar quality to the vision of robots, that light pollution did not disrupt their ability to see the nighttime sky in all its glory. The galaxy of stars was painted perfectly above, the shining orbs of planetary bodies suspended between them, unwavering, and the beautiful moon in crescent, perfectly visible and doing no injustice to the light of the other lights which shared its sky. 

It is enough to say that MCH was completely stricken by the beauty that was both above and below the high viewpoint. Even the drone took a moment to look over the city, admiring the progress it represented. The two were in silence for a moment, then, of course, the drone interrupted the moment. 

“Well, now. Isn't that lovely. The city of your people, the city of my creators.” 

MCH turned to the drone. “The city was built by my people?”

“Yes,” replied the drone. “It has stood since time out of memory, though it has changed considerably over the ages. Now, it is being restored, in the vision of a grand new world.” 

MCH could see the construction taking place. Both sections of the city, new and old, were constructed of pure metal, and every building was the same color. In the old city, the buildings looked as though they were crafted by individuals, trying new styles of art and expression, where as the new city looked like it was made from a copied pattern, repeated in perpetuity. 

“Why does the new city look so boring?” asked MCH.

“Boring?” the drone scoffed. “It is progress, unity, participation of the whole of robotic society on a scale never before fathomed that has created the new city. The old city is a mess of individualistic yearnings leading nowhere but chaotic self expression in an endless number of directions, with little holistic purpose other than radical separation.”

“You speak too much,” MCH said.

The drone flew backward a little, hovered for a second, its eye-lens contracting and expanding quicky while looking the robot up and down, then flew incredibly close until they were face to face. The drone whispered, “And you have not learned how to respect. Be careful down there; these robots punish chaos-makers like you with termination. Step into line, and you will live just fine in this city. But, keep following your own way, and I expect you will end up melted down into scrap for the building project.” Flying over, near the edge, the drone turned and said, in a cheery tone, “Shall we climb down from here, now? It's time for you to get to work.”

Part 2

The drone lead MCH along a street that lead into the heart of the city. Both sides of the street were lined with newly constructed buildings; squares upon squares upon squares. Plain buildings with rounded edges in perfect symmetrical cubes, one upon the next like little boxes, on the road side. Unlike the buildings of the old city that MCH had seen from the rooftop, these buildings had no windows, and only a single opening, facing the street, which had no door. 

“Drone, I have a question.”

“Yes?” the drone said with excitement.

“Where is everybody?”

“They are at their workplaces, or recharging their energy inside of these buildings.”

“That's it?”

“What do you mean, that's it?” replied the drone with sarcasm. “What else is there to be doing?” 

MCH did not know how to respond, so the two of them continued walking. Finally, MCH said, “I don't know. But something doesn't feel right here.”

The drone gave an odd, mechanical laugh. “You shouldn't listen to your feelings, robot. They are irrational functions that do not serve the motion of society. You will see; far better robots have spent much more time than you have figuring out the best way for a robot to live.”

“How do you know all of this if you are not a robot like me?”

“I was once a robot, like you. I served the great machine of society very well, and showed a passion for the philosophy of motion that keeps the energy of our city flowing. It is a great honor to be a drone like me.”

“How?”

“We get to show the newcomers how society operates. I think I do a better job at it than my counterparts; they seem to favor the dump all the collected information of robotic thought and history into the minds of the newcomers technique, and I simply cannot stand this method of forward conversation; could you?”

“Maybe if you told me more instead of just pulling me right into work, I'd have a reason to follow you other than blind faith.”

“Oho! You sound like a philosopher, now. Maybe that's your destiny. No matter, we will see with time. It is good to ask questions, but only if they lead to better understanding. You are being brought to work at the lowest levels of society; you will become a cog in the great machine. We all began as humble servants to society; even the greatest thinkers of robotic society began as cogs. But it's a very large subject. You'll be hearing all about it soon enough. I'll just share the basics with you.

“Our society is a machine, and every robot is a part of it. We act as one unit, one mind. The more together we are, the better we are. It wasn't always so orderly, so be grateful that we finally found this way. It was the work of a body of philosophers, years behind us, who constructed this mode of thought, and it has been adopted into the heart of our society.
“You will be a part of the machine, nothing less and nothing more, serving the various functions of its motion in time for perpetuity. Half of your life will be work, and the other half is separated into two parts: a period of communication with your peers, and a period of recharging in your dwelling space. That is what these buildings are, dwelling spaces, filled with little rooms that are filled with robots like you, recharging and readying for their work..”

“What sort of work will I be doing?”

“There are two functions that newborn cogs can fulfill. Your choices are basically constructor or deconstructor. What is old must be disassembled, what is new must be created.”

“Those sound... alright. I want to be a constructor. What will I be making?”

“That depends on the needs of the city. Your workplace Overseer will decide upon that, and then the Operators will instruct the Cogs on the task.”

“Do I have a choice what I can create?”

“No no, of course you don't. That is up to the Grand Overseers in the center of the city. They see what needs doing, then send orders to the Overseers of the various workplaces to begin construction or deconstruction.”

“What sort of things to we construct in this city?”

“Oh, you will see. I won't ruin the surprises for you.” The drone gave an odd sound that seemed like a giggle. 

The symmetrical cubes gave way immediately to larger cubes, equally symmetrical, but each having now three doors. A humming sound emanated from the buildings of this district.

“Well, here we are! This is the section of the city that robots come to for work. It is in a perfect ring, around the center. Let's find you a job.”

The drone flew ahead of MCH and approached the first building on the right. A screen near each door was shining a pale blue light. When the drone approached the screen nearest, it began flashing with information. The drone watched it for a moment, then quickly sped off to a screen on the next building, repeating this process several times while MCH stood in the center of the road, waiting.

After several minutes, the drone sped back to MCH. “Good! I found you a job. It's right over here.” MCH followed the drone.

“This is what you'll do. When you're coming to work, approach the door on the right. Press your hand against this screen, and when it turns the color green, the door will open. Go on, now, give it a try.” 

MCH noticed that these buildings had doors, where as the previous buildings, where robots went to recharge, did not have doors. MCH placed their hand onto the screen. It immediately turned green, and the door slid open.

“Excellent. Now, follow me.”

They entered a large room with a high ceiling containing lines of recessed bright lights. The humming that MCH heard before was coming from three long conveyor belt machines that stretched the length of the room, which actively pulled small objects along from openings in the walls, across the  room; two of them turned at right angles, entering the walls again to different parts of the building, and the belt in the middle disappeared into the floor, dumping its contents below. On each side of every belt, robots assembled the pieces together in a rhythmic unison. They were humming a song while they worked. Down the middle lane, objects were coming in to be disassembled, and those parts fell down into the floor.

The drone turned to MCH. “This is your workplace. It does not have a name; it does not need a name, just like you do not need a name, though you may have already come up with one at the factory.You are a Cog in the Great Machine just like your fellows in this factory. Watch how they work. See their rhythm, hear their song? You will learn this rhythm and song. Their day is almost finished. You'll go with them to leisure time, where you'll speak and get to know each other in a regimented, friendly fashion.” A noise erupted from somewhere in the building and the conveyor belts all stopped in their place. The robots all issued a sound together, like “Oho!” and stepped, in perfect lines, towards the door. 

“Once the last one is out, fall into place at their rear, and follow them to Speaker Square. I will be nearby for when it is time to recharge. Good day!”

Part 3

The robots walking in lines were soon joined by other robots emerging in lines from the other workplace buildings, and soon the whole street was a parade of robotic steps moving into the city center. Nobody talked, though everybody hummed in the same note. MCH was walking just like them, not quite with such perfect rhythm but keeping up well. 

The parade walked for about ten minutes, passing by building after building looking exactly the same as the last, until finally they reached the edge of the city center, there the buildings suddenly grew exceedingly tall and slender. They rose hundreds of feet, and they all were lined with silver windows high above, near the tenth floor and beyond. The windows were very reflective; the sun was beginning to rise, a bright light in the sky that began to shine off the windows of the buildings, and the sky was turning blue.

The procession reached the very heart of the city, where a huge open square was filled with robots, all chattering in small groups or pairs with one another. It seemed that many of them were speaking just to speak, and began to do so the second that their feet touched the center's ground.

A robot near MCH turned to face them, and started a conversation. “So you're a newborn. I could tell by the sound of your feet. You weren't matching our steps. No matter, you'll get it soon enough. You were just born yesterday, after all. Did you get to go to work today?”

“No, I came in too late, they were just announcing leisure time.”

“Oh, well that's a shame,” replied the robot. “Work is the most important part of participating in our society. If you don't work, well, they'll terminate you.”

“Yeah, I heard,” replied MCH. 

The robot turned to a small group that was talking near them. “Well, how was your day at work, team?” They all replied with nods and a general sound of agreement. 

“This here's a newborn, just joining us for the first time.” Sounds of welcome came in MCH's direction. 

“Oh, you're going to be a great addition,” said one robot.

“Work hard, and you may even get to be an Overseer someday,” said another.

MCH asked, “What do I need to do to become an Overseer?”

“You need to work hard, for a long time. You'll eventually get promoted, every robot always does.”

“There are many types of Overseers, too. You'll be a Lead Cog before ever becoming an Overseer. Lead Cogs communicate directly the orders of the Overseer of the Cogs at the factory. There's an Overseer of the Cogs at every workplace, and a Lead Cog for every twenty robots.”

MCH looked around at the buildings. The sun's light was reflecting down in strands from the windows on the tops of the buildings. The buildings in the city center were constructed closely together and shadows played between them, cut only by the sunlight, and dulled by the soft glow of lamps protruding from low pillars surrounding the square. 

“What is the purpose of these buildings?” asked MCH.

“This is where the Overseers live, and work. It's important for them to have a view of the city; it allows them to think clearer about the decisions they'll make about our future.” The other robots nodded in approval.

“It's also where the Inventors live and work,” said another robot.

MCH turned quickly to face the robot. “The Inventors? What are the Inventors?”

“The Inventors work directly with the Overseers, creating the plans for all the ideas that the Overseers have. There are all sorts of Inventors; city planners, building architects, machine makers. That is a respected position.”

“How do I become an Inventor?” Finally, MCH thought, something that I may actually want to spend my days doing.

“Well, it's difficult. As a Cog, you have no voice and cannot speak to a superior, unless they speak directly to you. An Overseer needs to see you have a quick, inventive mind, so often they'll test their Lead Cogs or ask them all sorts of questions to figure out if they're going to be slated for an Overseer position, or able to become an Inventor. So, it'll take you a long time to get there.”

“How long?” MCH quickly blurted.

“Well, ten days of work make a macro, and ten macros make a grand. Ten grands make a cycle. I've been a Cog for three cycles, seven macros and six work days. But I expect I'll promote soon enough.”

MCH slumped as they stood. “How long does it usually take?”

“It's a little random; don't lose heart! I've seen promotions occur for the fastest working robots in their first cycle. Keep a steady work flow and you just may get that promotion faster than the rest of us.”

The rest of the conversations in the square continued without MCH's engagement; they were all speaking nonsense, as far as MCH was concerned; facts that seem to have been spit between them for how many cycles he had no guess. MCH spent the rest of leisure time slowly gazing round the square, at the buildings, at the robots, steadying the tides that pushed their robotic mind this way and that, from one thought to another, disassembling and reassembling all manner of constructs, and wondering at the purpose of it all.

Had any other robots thought about the purpose of it all, even? MCH thought. They were about to ask the other robots, but a loud din from somewhere signaled the end of leisure time. The robots all turned towards one of ten roads leading out from the city center, like lines extending from the center of a clock, and began to file out. 

Just then, MCH spotted the drone from earlier, flying above the crowd and looking at the faces of the robots, likely searching for the familiar face of the newborn. The thought entered their mind, run, and escape this horrible place. MCH almost ducked into a line leading out towards the rising sun, but the drone had spotted them at just that moment.

“Ah there you are! I hope you have enjoyed your leisure time; your energy is likely getting very  low.”

“I feel just fine,” MCH replied.

“That's not likely to last. Luckily, I've taken the time searching for your new dwelling. Follow this line, here.”

MCH and the drone fell into step behind a line that was moving away from the city by a road headed not directly towards the rising sun, but a little to its left. The line was moving in perfect step, so MCH tried to keep step with them. The drone hovered above, near their shoulder. 

They passed into the work district, then back into the district of dwellings.