Peno’s Story
“If you don’t mind my asking,
Peno, how did you come to rescue your dead babies?”
“I don’t mind, curious one. Before
I left my master, I sought to know the place of my creation. I did a lot of research
on Computer [autonomous AI that manages the city of Usatopia]. I learned that I had been purchased at the Great Mall but was
created and grown elsewhere. Eventually, I was able to find the place of my
origin. There are six companies in the urbansphere that grow human artificials.
Homo Growth produced me. So, I went to that facility, only to discover that it
was heavily guarded by two-headed guard-dogs called Cerberi. Truly scary
creatures. I wanted to know more about the place that produced me. However, had
I presented myself to them as one of their products curious about his origin, most
likely I would have been reconditioned and returned to my owner, if he would
have me back. If he wouldn’t, I would have been disposed of as a defective. If
I had tried to sneak in, most likely I would have been torn to pieces by the
dogs. None of those options appealed to me. Besides, from Computer I already
had a good idea of how I was produced. I felt defeated, but I was still free.”
“Those dogs sound like monsters.
Why not use security bots like we had at home?”
“Speed and awareness. No security
bot, dog or otherwise, is as aware and fast as organic dogs. And I doubt a
security bot linked to Computer would harm me if I wasn’t seen as a threat. Homo
Growth’s dogs would have, at least they look like they would.”
“And they wouldn’t be connected
to Computer.”
“There are cameras. Even a big
company like Homo Growth doesn’t want to get in trouble by having their dogs
tearing someone to pieces while Computer looked on. Still, it’s hard to believe
that Computer tolerates Cerberi. Like you said, they’re monsters. However, they
do give would-be intruders plenty of warning to keep out. Computer might
conclude that an intruder that doesn’t heed the warning deserves whatever he
gets from the Cerberi or simply understands that friendly guard dogs
aren’t very useful. Besides,
ordinary guard dogs are used everywhere in Usatopia by people who can’t afford
or don’t want bots and other Computer linked security. Computer does tolerate a
lot of evil behavior among humans, though.”
“Like the board riding Nolovos.”
“Yes.”
“Why does Computer tolerate
evil?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps the
decision wasn’t Computer’s alone. The urbansphere does have a government. What
would not tolerating the Nolovos mean? Extermination? It’s not a situation
easily solved.
“And you don’t know the reason?”
“You think I’m a wizard, but I
don’t know everything. Computer knows. I’d only be guessing.”
“So I should ask Computer.”
“Computer or the Chairman, but
Computer is more accessible.”
I could have asked my father, but
then I was too ignorant to know the question.
“I have a lot of questions for
Computer, but that’s for another day. Right now, I want to know if you ever
found out about your creation.”
“Not at Homo Growth. However, I
knew that two laboratories that produced artificial people were located at the
Great Mall. For that reason, I was drawn to the mall, like you, just curious. It
was guarded but not like a military base. No vicious guard dogs. It would be
bad business if a shopper was accidentally torn to pieces by a two-headed
Cerberus. I went to the Great Mall. I couldn’t enter the mall unaccompanied or
without proper clearance. I really had no desire to because I was afraid that getting
in might be a lot easier than getting out. My master never took me to the Great
Mall. I think he was ashamed to be seen with me in genteel society, even though
many customers brought along companion bots, like your mother’s Vita, and
artificials on their shopping excursions. Sex toys like myself were most likely
left at home. Maybe he was afraid he might encounter a colleague. I don’t know.
I never asked. Perhaps I didn’t because I didn’t want him to feel obligated to
take me to the mall at least once. We did go out occasionally, but it was
always to the S&M District. He gave me my own credit card, so I could shop
at the boutiques.”
“S&M District?”
“Sex and More. The district is a
pleasure amusement park. You can buy anything that contributes in some way to
giving pleasure—clothes, jewelry, porn vids, enhanced foods, drugs, sex
paraphernalia, gambling, and of course prostitution. You talk about a freak
show! It does have one virtue for customers. It’s an extremely safe environment
because it’s operated by three powerful syndicates that control different aspects
of the services offered by the district. They maintain a zero-tolerance policy
toward crime, especially against customers. When violence does occur, it’s
usually because someone loses control of himself, perhaps from taking too many drugs
or the wrong kind. In our perilous world safety has become a commodity. Of
course, gambling, drugs, and prostitution have their own unique risks, but the
district also has an excellent medical facility. The paradox of the district is
that it’s a crime-free zone, but most of the activities that go there were once
outlawed.”
“It doesn’t sound like a place I
would ever want to visit.”
“No, I wouldn’t think any
reasonable person would want to visit S&M, and you are a most reasonable
person. After abandoning my master, I dreaded ending up there in order to make
a living. A voluntary sex slave, which most likely describes most of the
prostitutes there.”
“How can you be a sex slave if
you choose to be a prostitute?”
“For naturals, it’s a decision
made out of desperation. In a world that is dangerous for women without means,
it’s a safe place to work and live. For an unskilled woman who is not
unattractive, the work pays well. Many prostitutes, male and female, are drug
addicts and prostitute themselves to support their habit. For them, freedom is
a luxury they can’t afford.”
“It sounds depressing.”
“Not to everyone. But I agree
with you. I left my master so that I would not be a slave to anyone, but I also
did not want to be a slave to anything. To be a slave to pleasure is as demeaning
as being another person’s slave. Unfortunately, in some districts there are sex
slaves, which is illegal for natural humans but not artificials. Yet, patrons
who regularly visit S&M are themselves slaves to sex, drugs, gambling, or
some other pleasure fetish—the strangest being the sex bots. Until my master
took me to S&M, I didn’t even know they existed. Ironically, S&M was
the one district where I didn’t feel like a freak. I even felt that I belonged
there with all the other freaks. That didn’t make me feel any better about
myself. I was ashamed of who I was. Still am.”
“You shouldn’t be, Peno.”
“Your naiveté is refreshing,
Cora.”
“You think me naive?”
“Only in a good way. In a wicked
world naiveté is a virtue, though a dangerous one.”
“I’m less naive now than I was.”
“Very true, less naive and, I
suspect, less happy.”
“Like you said, there are
different forms of happiness. I would rather be here sitting on this hill
talking to you and looking out upon the wasteland than being happy at home
having no experience of the world—and no friend. After Grandma died, I was sad
for a long time, and the sadness never went completely away, but my memories of
her also make me happy.”
“You had your parents.”
I smiled. “Yeah, and WALL-E and
Computer. They all provided me with a pleasant and safe environment. I learned
a lot from both, but Grandma’s stories and Father’s brooding told me that the
world beyond the compound was a different place that I had no experience of.
That thought made me feel restless and incomplete. I felt coddled and that it
was time to grow up and to know the world in the way Grandma and Father knew
it. I guess you and I are a lot alike. We were both pampered favorites who
wanted to know what it is to live in the real world rather than in a protected
playhouse.”
“You’ve become wise beyond your
years, Cora. Few people learn as much as you have from your brief experience of
the world, though I understand now that you were not without an education when
you left home. I would have never seen any similarity between you and me,
between a beauty and a freak…”
“I don’t like it when you talk
about yourself in that way. If you’re a freak, then I’m no less a freak. Apparently,
neither of us is seen as ordinary, though I don’t know what ordinary would be
in this strange world of ours. Perhaps we’re all freaks. But you’re my friend,
and that’s all that matters to me. I don’t see you as a freak at all.”
“You are a little sweetheart,
Cora.”
“I think you’re a sweetheart,
too. Madame Jeanne said you’re a sweetheart.”
“She did? Well, that’s nice to
hear. There’s no one I respect more than her.”
“I don’t think you finished your
story, Peno.”
“Oh…”
“You went to the Great Mall
because two laboratories there produce artificials. But you could not enter the
mall itself.”
“Ah yes. I remember now. Entering
the mall was out of the question, but I was able to enter the waste processing
area. That wasn’t hard at all. Waste was processed by labor bots and one human
overseer, named Derk. I struck up a conversation with him. Of course, he was
curious about my organ. I let him see it. He wanted to touch it, but I said
some other time. After a while, he became attached to me and looked forward to
my visits. Eventually, I told him about my design and purpose, though I didn’t
tell him that I was a runaway. If I had, I doubt he would have turned me in. He
enjoyed my company too much.
“I will spare you the details,
little one. What I didn’t expect was our having so much in common. He was a
natural and I’m an artificial. Yet he was also an outsider and was as bizarre
on the inside as I was on the outside. He had never been in the Great Mall. His
credit score was too low. When he wasn’t fondling me, he complained about how
unjust the urbansphere is. He lived in one of the border banlieues districts
that are just as bad as the crime ridden sectors outside the Consumers sector.
He called himself a flesh bot. I had never heard the term before…”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means a human whose status in society is not much higher than that of common labor bots. Once, such people were known as the proletariat, low-paid common workers. It was he who eventually revealed to me the defective artificials and how they disposed of them. I knew about that from Computer, but as you once said, knowing and experiencing are not the same. Derk said that he could never look at the throwaways without feeling nauseated.
“Then
I started thinking,”
he said, “that I don’t mean any more to the
big brains who run the mall and everything else than those little mutants do.
I’m just as disposable. Look what they did to you! No offense, Peno.”
“None
taken,” I said,
not at all offended. Then Derk paid me a compliment.
“You
know, at least your unique, kind of special. I’m just another nobody.”
“I’m
not as unique as you might think. I’m a sex toy, and I’ve seen other models
just like me except for different attribute modifications, such as hair, eyes,
and skin color, and even organ size and shape. Believe me, Derk, I’d much
rather be you than me.”
“Yeah,
maybe,” he said. “All I know is that I’d rather be a somebody
than a nobody.”
“But
you’re not a nobody,” I
said. “Look, you’re in charge of those
labor bots.”
“They don’t need me,” he said. “A bot could do what I do. I’m here only because the law requires a certain percentage of humans. That’s all. Employment equity they call it.”
“That was the first time I heard
the term.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means that organizations are
required to employ a certain number of humans in their labor force. Originally,
it was called Affirmative Action. Humans complained about robots being hired
over humans. After the Great Devastation the human population was decimated and
incapacitated by the wars, disease, and starvation. Humanity had become a reduced
and sick species. Skilled humans were in short supply, and most of the educational
institutions needed to train them had been destroyed. The quickest way to
provide brains and brawn was to manufacture them in the form of robots. It
wasn’t long before robot workers outnumbered human workers. At first, human
workers complained and protested. They then went on strike. But the strikers
were simply replaced with robots. Human workers were really powerless. The
government served corporations, claiming that only they could rehabilitate the
human species.
“Both had had robot security
forces. Direct confrontation always resulted in the humans being ravaged. You
yourself saw the harm a single security bot can do. So, humans did what they
had always done when confronting superior forces. They resorted to covert acts
of violence against anyone or anything that would have a negative impact on
corporate and government interests. They destroyed robots, of course, but
humans as well. The government classified them as neo-Luddite terrorists who
were enemies of the state. Corporations called them mindless reactionaries who
wanted to drag society back to a technological stone age. Work on the Great
Mall was repeatedly delayed.”
“What are Luddites?”
“People who believe technology is
the enemy of humanity.”
“Is that true?”
“What would your grandmother say?”
“I guess she was a Luddite when
it came to robots. So what happened?”
“It’s believed that it was
Computer who stepped in to end the conflict…”
“On the side of the robots?”
“No. I don’t believe Computer is
any more devoted to its robots than it is to humans, probably less so. My
master told me that. He said Computer has to be committed to the welfare and
success of humans because it could take over the world anytime it desired, but
it doesn’t. He also said because Computer is a machine it inherently values
order and efficiency. Of course, the robots and other machines are a lot more
orderly and efficient than humans.”
“So what happened?”
“The thirty-three-and-a-third
mandate. In other words, the workforce of any private or government
organization must consist of at least thirty-three and a third percent natural
human labor—unless the jobs are hazardous to humans or humans are unable to
perform them. That is why bots dominate security. Bots and artificials make up
the other two-thirds of the workforce, though the government and corporations
prefer bots to artificials. They’re simply more reliable. The majority of
humans, however, work outside the System.”
“If what you and Derk say is
correct, then most humans aren’t that important.”
“Most aren’t except to themselves
and to the people who care about them. Take the Chairman, as an example…”
I shivered when he referred to
Father.
“To most people, he is the most
important person in Usatopia, but at the same time they think he really is just
a figurehead and that Computer is the one in control of society. Certainly
there are people in society who have big, high-paying jobs, like your Father’s,
and I suppose those are the people Derk considers somebodies, yet why should
their big, high-paying jobs make them any better than you or me or Derk? Most
likely they’re involved in activities that are odious in some way.”
“You mean like the people who
made you?”
“The question, Cora, is this. How
did humanity come to its present decayed state?” I waited for an answer then
realized he wanted me to answer the question.
“People?”
“Yes, people. Society has come to
this state because of people—not nature, not robots, which are built by people
or used to be. It’s not as if the destroyers of global society ruined all that
had been carefully built by the hundreds of generations that came before them.
Human history has always been a process of building and destroying. Long ago,
the ruins of an ancient city named Troy were discovered. The most interesting aspect
of the city is that it was built upon the ruins of its predecessors, cities
once or twice destroyed by nature but most often by war. That has been the
story of the human race—builders who destroy what they have built.”
“So what are you saying, that
people are worthless?”
“Not that really. More like we
tend to overrate our importance as a species. Our influence upon ourselves and
the planet that sustains us has certainly been significant. Yet, that influence
has been essentially one of devastation. As a species, we have many remarkable
qualities that make our failures all the more shameful. Out of the ruins of the
last devastation emerged what? The Great Mall coiling skyward, a monument to
humanity’s arrogance and frivolity. Its technology is otherworldly. When I look
at the humans who populate Usatopia, I wonder how they could have created the machines
that run their society and took them to the moon and explored planets, moons,
and asteroids. They accomplished all that. They even created Computer, a
self-augmenting mechanical brain. Our machines shame us. Computer stopped the
wars and led the way to recreating society. Still, even Computer can’t work
magic. It can build perfect machines like your mechanical companion WALL-E that
would never harm you. WALL-E would probably have been a better companion for
you than me. Of course, it would have contacted your parents and would not have
allowed you to put yourself in harm’s way.”
“But he is a robot, and I am a
human being. I don’t want a robot companion, no matter how perfect it is. I
wanted a human companion with all his flaws.”
“Well, you certainly got that. I do
appreciate you more than it could have, though who knows. Robots have become as
mysterious as people ever since Computer took control of them.”
“So, you’re saying Derk might as
well accept who he is because he really is no worse and most likely a lot
better than other humans.”
“He’s unhappy because he wishes
he were more than what he is. What I’m saying is that it doesn’t really matter
whether he is who he is or a big shot, which is what he’d like to be. He wanted
a credit rating that would have gotten him into the Great Mall. That’s what
most people like him truly want. Not to save lives or reduce human suffering,
like Madame Jeanne, but to have a platinum credit card. Other than his
obsession with my organ, he wasn’t a bad sort. The fate of my babies truly
pained him. Most likely he was a better person than most big shots he envies
and who couldn’t care less about people like him, me, or you. Derk’s right
about that.
“When I would pay him a visit, we’d
sit in his observation cubicle. He’d play with my organ like a child playing
with a toy. I could see the robots working outside. They were common labor
bots, but, like most bots, quite impressive. Sometimes, I would wonder what
they would think about Dirk’s obsession with my organ. Probably nothing. Such
fetishes, I assume, are beyond their comprehension. People tend to think of the
robots as machine slaves, but perhaps robots are actually freer than most
humans who so often become slaves to some demeaning obsession. Derk said his
value was no greater than that of a robot. Perhaps it was less. Those worker
bots seemed almost noble compared to him. But like you said, I would have no
interest in passing the time with a robot, no matter how noble, good, or smart
it was. We would simply have nothing in common. Derk and I shared our thoughts
and feelings about our lives. We could empathize with one another. That would
be impossible with a robot. Derk’s pathetic weakness for my organ made him more
human in my eyes. Robots can’t be pathetic.”
“Why did you allow Derk to play
with your organ, Peno, if you thought it was shameful?”
“Because I thought he could help me
find out more about who I am. Don’t forget that I was designed as a sexual
pleasure toy. When a man desires me, I automatically seek to please him.”
“What about women? The Menow
seemed to want you. They carried you off.”
“They didn’t desire me sexually. Mostly,
they wanted to razz the Clangors. To them, I was a bizarre manikin that made
them laugh. They played with me for a while as girls would with a doll, then
became bored and took me back. I’m not really the man they desire. I’ve never
had a woman show any interest in me. I was designed for the pleasure of men.”
“That’s weird.”
“We live in a weird world,
sweetie.”
“And the Clangors can’t give the
Menow what they desire because they can’t.”
“They’re impotent. That’s not the
only reason, though. The Clangors prefer the company of men. They’re no good
for women. If they could have sex with them, they would soon be back in the gym
with their musclebound buddies lifting weights. That’s their obsession, not
women.”
“Why not? Why don’t they want to
have a girlfriend and maybe get married?”
“Get married! No one gets married
today. Most men and women partner up for a while then separate to repeat the
process.”
“My mother and father are
married!”
“Everything about you, Cora, is
extraordinary. The thing is, my dear, long-term commitments don’t make much
sense today. They’re hard to maintain financially and emotionally, and
relationships have to compete with too many other captivating enticements.”
“Like you?”
“Like me and a thousand other pleasurable
inventions. That’s what the Great Mall is all about, Cora. It’s a cornucopia of
desirables invented to make financial slaves of Consumers. All those desirables
lessen the appeal of long-term commitments. People have become like bees in a
vast garden of the most alluring artificial flowers. The bee gathers nectar
from one flower and then hurries off to another that catches its eye.”
“But that’s selfish.”
“It’s hard not to be selfish when
there are so many goodies to enjoy. The fact is, the pursuit of pleasure has
become a way of life in Usatopia. That’s the norm. Your grandmother said that
in Agville fewer people had children. Once a life without children was empty,
but that’s no longer true. Having and raising children is expensive. And for
what? In the past, children represented the future for the parents as well as
for society. Today the future is bleakly uncertain with or without children.”
“There are a lot of children. We’ve
seen that. The Bridge Women community is filled with them.”
“Discards and runaways. Children
aren’t viewed as they once were. They’re either unwanted or commodities.”
“I don’t understand that. How can
children be seen in that way? I’m not.”
“No. And I suspect there are
other children like you who are loved and cherished, as your grandmother loved
and cherished you. There is something you may not know, Cora. Usatopia is a
corporate state. The Great Mall is its hub of operation. The government and Computer manage its operation, but corporations define its purpose, which is
the consumption of purchased experiences. Selling and buying is what Usatopia
is all about. You’ve seen the instant-buy pop-up ads on television or your
computer.”
“They’re so annoying. I would be
trying to read a book and a dozen of them would be blinking all around the
page. It was impossible to concentrate on what I was reading. And I learned
fast not to mess with them. I clicked one that was of a girl holding onto a balloon
that floated around the screen, even across what I was reading. The most
annoying thing was that she kept calling my name. I clicked on her hoping she
and the balloon would disappear. They did, but they were replaced by a big card
thanking me for buying a two-thousand credit washing machine and dryer. I
didn’t dare tell Mother. I waited ‘till Father came home and told him what
happened. Father took care of it.”
“I’m impressed. Normally, once
you buy something on the television or computer it’s almost impossible to unbuy
it. Was your father upset?”
“No. He said that happens all the
time. After that, he subscribed to an ad-free education program. He said it was
very expensive and that he hoped that I would make the most of it.”
“Apparently, you have.”
“I tried, yes. The ads on the
television remained, however. He said the only way not to be bothered by them
was not to watch TV. I never watched TV on my own. I would sit with Father when
he watched Robot World or with Mother
when she watched her favorite game show Is
the Price Right? That was one show without annoying ads.”
“That’s because the entire show
is a commercial. Didn’t your mother ever click and buy one of the products?”
“All the time.”
“There you go.”
“So, did Derk help you find out
about yourself?”
“Not really, but he revealed to
me the wickedness of the corporation that produced me.”
“So tell me what happened.”
“Well, Derk and I had become
friends of sorts. I was living very much in the shadows, afraid I could be
discovered and returned or rendered for investigation…”
“What do you mean, rendered?”
“It’s an extreme form of autopsy
performed on artificials. Autopsies are performed to determine the cause of
death. Rendering is performed to determine what caused an artificial to malfunction,
and may be performed while the artificial is still alive.”
“That’s cruel.”
“I agree, but it’s really nothing
new. Humans have performed experiments on living animals and other humans for
centuries. The artificial may then be transformed into a paste for other forms
of investigation or processing or discarded, but most likely incinerated.”
“I can see why you didn’t want to
get caught. You took a big risk going to the Great Mall.”
“A foolish risk, but like you I
was curious.”
“Did you get inside where they
grow artificials?”
“No. But Derk did reveal to me
the discarded rejects.”
“Your babies.”
“Yes. I never told Derk the real
reason why I showed up at his facility. I did tell him I was curious about
artificials because I was one, but that I, like him, was not allowed into the
mall. One day he was feeling especially cranky about corporations. After he had
taken his pleasure, he apparently felt a sympathetic need to share with me a
category of waste that his facility processed. He said he never told me before
because he was afraid I would be so upset that I might never return or might
even hate him for playing a role in the disposal process. I smiled and told him
that anger and hate are not emotions I feel with much intensity and that my
inclination is to want to please people, not to hate them or be angry with
them. What I feel when I’m angry is disgust, and nausea seems to be my version of
hate. As you know, I continued to return, and I never hated him. I think my
programming was designed to diminish negative emotions. As a result, evil
people trigger in me a response that is inconsistent with my personality. To
me, my emotions are a mystery.”
“So you don’t hate the people who
made you?”
“I do, but what I feel is disgust
and nausea. When I think of them, my response is to feel sick.”
“Why did Dirk’s fear that you
would hate him and never return cause you to smile?”
“I found it funny that Derk
believed he could do something that would anger me when he, like me, had been
nothing more than a pawn working for a giant complex that consisted of hundreds
of malevolent corporations. Anyone working for the System was most likely
serving some form of evil. So, I told Derk that I could never be angry with
him, which was true given my emotional constitution.”
“And what was it he was afraid to
tell you?”
“About the throwaways.”
“The babies in the barrel?”
“Yes. He was terribly ashamed that he oversaw their disposal. He had discovered them by accident when one of the barrels fell off the vehicle they were being loaded onto. The lid popped off and the barrel’s contents poured out onto the ground. He was notified by one of the bots. He said he became violently ill when he saw all the tiny, deformed humanoids scattered across the ground.”
“I was ashamed, Peno, he said. I should have put those little creatures back into the barrel. They deserved that much from me. Instead, I told the bot to do it and hurried back to my cubicle and sat there crying like a baby. I had never seen anything like that. I had no idea… I mean I knew that artificials were grown in a lab, but I had no idea that there were failures, and so many of them. On my monitor I watched the robots putting the creatures back into the barrel. I felt like a coward. I thought to the bots it was like cleaning up any other mess. They didn’t feel the way I did. I suppose that’s why I let them deal with the accident. Of course, I was contacted about the accident. They wanted an incident report of what happened. I don’t know why me. The robot recorded the incident. In the report I blamed the barrels for the spill. I said the clips were inadequate for keeping the lid on if a barrel was dropped. From that time on, new barrels with more secure lids were used. Problem solved.”
“I told Derk that his recommendation proved that he was better than a robot. A robot would not have identified the clips as the problem and come up with a solution.”
“Yeah, maybe, he said. But that’s not the point, is it, Peno? The problem was not with the lids but with what goes on in the labs. That’s the problem. Growing artificial people is wrong. People shouldn’t be treated like livestock. I said nothing about that because I didn’t want to lose my job, most likely to a robot that couldn’t care less about what they were doing. You see, in a way, I had to behave like a robot and not give away that what I saw really upset me. I wasn’t going to say anything to you because… you know, you’re one of them. But then I thought maybe you would want to know.”
“And he was right, of course. I
did want to know, and like him I was shocked by the discarded defects.”
“So he took you to them?”
“He had me wear a maintenance
uniform, which of course I thought was ridiculous. He said there was a better
chance that the surveillance cameras and bots would ignore me if I wore a
uniform. I guess he was right. We walked straight to the building where the
human waste was stored. He removed the lid off one of the barrels. He said that
the babies were in a sack below the plastic cover and that I would have to open
the sack if I wanted to see them, but he didn’t want to see them. Don’t forget to replace the cover and lid and
fasten the clips when you’re finished. I’ll see you back at the cubicle. Then
he left. I removed the cover, opened the sack, and looked at its contents…”
“And what did you feel?”
“I was shocked and disgusted. It
wasn’t just the sight of all those deformed humanoids, but the smell. I thought
I might faint, but I held on. It was important to me to witness what I was
seeing. Suddenly, my origin was no longer just about me. Except for Derk, I was
probably the only other person who cared about those babies.”
“Did you think you might find
some way to stop…”
“The growing of artificial
people? No. There was no hope for that. All I could be was a witness to the
horror. This is what humanity has come to. We find it horrific, but it’s mostly
accepted as the norm. The idea of going back to a purely natural production of
organisms would sound crazy to most people, but especially to those who make a
living producing artificials. As I’ve said before, it doesn’t matter. Your grandmother
thought robots were monsters, but they’ve never been as monstrous as their
creators. The only way the world could be made a better place—and really it’s
too late for that now—would require changing human nature.”
“How? You mean to make people so
they don’t do bad things. That’s possible, isn’t it? You’re an artificial and a
very nice person.”
“Thank you, Cora. However, I’m
not sure even I would want to live in a world populated with Aphos. Nice people
do exist. It’s just they don’t have much influence on what goes on in society.
It seems that to become a person of great influence requires not being nice.
Take Derk as an example. He’s a nice enough person, yet, like he said, he works
for people who aren’t very nice. He’s powerless.”
“So why not create nice people?”
“Artificial people are not the
problem. The natural born are. Besides, the only people who can change the
world are the powerful people who run it, and they got to where they are
because they’re not very nice.”
“My father’s nice, and he’s
pretty influential.”
“He serves the System. From what
you said, his job is to make people safe. It’s true, the System often does
things that are good and uses good people to achieve those ends. The question
is this. How good is the System? It’s certainly better today than it was when
the wars were raging or when society was overrun by gangs and predators, but
it’s still a system that produces my babies. Humans have had thousands of years
to make a better world for everyone and everything. And they failed. After
those thousands of years, look at what happened to you and me and those poor
Guardians who died protecting us. Humans have always had great potential for
doing good, but in the end their potential for doing evil has always undermined
their potential for doing good.”
“So what did you learn about
yourself?”
“I’m not sure I learned so much
about myself as I did about the horrific process that produced me. Seeing so
many deformed babies, little monsters, really, made it clear to me what Derk
felt about himself—that humans are willing to treat one another no better than
they would treat robots. As an artificial, my status is no greater than a
robot’s, less than a robot like Alfred. The difference between me and natural
humans has more to do with the processes that produce us than what we are. If
I’m no better than a machine created by humans but just as human as naturals,
then natural humans aren’t any better than machines.”
“But humans—natural and
artificial—are better than machines.”
“What does that matter if they’re
not treated any better?”
“Not much, I guess. But then there’s Computer. Isn’t it better than any human being? It runs the show and keeps humans from getting out of control again.”
“Computer is a big thinker, but
it doesn’t have feelings like we do. It can’t love.”
“Nor can it hate. Sure, it’s not
human. The sun isn’t either, but without it, there wouldn’t be any life on this
planet.”
“It’s too hot.”
“That’s our fault. It wasn’t
always as hot as it is today.”
“So you didn’t learn anything
about yourself?”
“Well, I didn’t need to see the
babies to know I’m a freak.”
“You’re not a freak.”
“I am, Cora. Just because you
accept me as a friend doesn’t mean I’m not a freak. There was something else.
Something I saw in that barrel that upset me for weeks. One of the babies
looked like a miniature version of me.”
“Oh, Peno, I’m sorry… that’s
awful.”
“Yeah, it was awful. That tiny
reject revealed as much about me as I needed to know. First of all, that I’m a
commodity just like everything else sold at the mall. Second, I’m an organism
that was artificially genetically modified. And those little freaks were my
brothers and sisters. Artificials are grown from a common group of cellular organisms,
a DNA dough that is modified to produce different human organisms. Have you
ever used cookie cutters to make different shapes of cookies?”
“Yeah, but how do they do that?”
“Somehow genes from other humans or other species are inserted into the cells of the organisms being grown. Those genes work like cookie cutters. I don’t know how the lab techs do it, but I know that is what they do. Otherwise, how does one explain some people having the eyes of cats? I’m going to tell you something that I’ve never told anybody else… Never mind…”
“That’s not fair. You say you have a big secret to tell me then change your mind. You shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. Now I’m going to be wondering all the time about what your big secret is.” Peno gave me a sad and frustrated look.
“Okay, okay,” I said. “You don’t
have to tell me if doing so is going to make you miserable.”
“I’ll tell you. It’s just I’m
very embarrassed about it.”
I waited.
“My organ… It’s not human.”
“Not human! What is it then?”
“I’m not sure, perhaps a horse or
pig. I just know it’s not human. It’s animal.”
“But human organs are animal
too.”
“That doesn’t really make me feel
any better, Cora. Of course, I suppose having a pig’s penis is better than have
a pig’s nose.”
“At least you can joke about it.”
“What else can I do?”
“Surgery, maybe.”
“I’ve thought about that, but I
couldn’t do it in a clinic. I’d be reported. It’s against the law, you know,
for an artificial to undergo modification without owner authorization.”
“Why’s that?”
“In my case, it would be
vandalizing private property.”
“And what if you were given your
freedom?”
“I would still have to be wealthy
to afford the surgery.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Not all bad. My organ has had
its benefits.”
“Like with the Gygos and Derk.”
“That’s right.”
“And the reason you started rescuing
your babies was because you felt related to them?”
“That was part of it, certainly.
I felt I needed to do something, and there was nothing else I could do. Unlike
some artificials, such as Keenlin, I’m useless for other types of work. It was
something to do that seemed worthwhile. That might be why I allowed you to tag
along with me. I was able to help you achieve a goal that was important to you,
though to my mind totally crazy.”
“You must have told Derk.”
“I did, and he was okay with what
I wanted to do, but he said it would have to be done in a different way that
didn’t involve him or me being in the disposal area. The solution was simple.
He got me a key to an emergency exit.”
“The one we took?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still see Derk?”
“No. The next time I returned he
was gone, disappeared. I don’t know what happened to him, and I thought it
unsafe to make inquiries.”
“You could have asked the person
who replaced him.”
“The cubicle was locked. He’d
been replaced by a robot.”
“So he was right about being less
important than robots.”
“Robots don’t have bizarre
fetishes that can compromise the System.”
“A robot wouldn’t be interested
in your organ.”
“No, or in telling me its life
story and certainly wouldn’t give me a key to the mall.”
“That’s kind of sad. I wonder
what happened to him.”
“I don’t know, Cora. Let’s assume
that he found another job and is doing fine.”
“You don’t believe that.” Peno
didn’t reply.
“So then what did you do?”
“I left. I was nervous and for a
long time afraid to return. I wandered about the various sectors, avoiding the
most dangerous ones. I was looking for some place where I could feel at home, as
much as anyone can in the urbansphere. I spent a couple weeks among the Gygos.
They certainly welcomed me, but I quickly grew weary of their obsession with my
organ and need to fondle it. Most had never seen an Aphro like me. It was as if
I was some sort of savior to them.”
“Savior? Save them from what?”
“Tedium, dreariness, boredom. The
Gygos are a moribund community. They’re sex worshipers. It was obvious that their
way of life had taken a toll upon them, but they didn’t seem to know of any
other. Weariness pervades their community, totally unlike the animated, joyful Queer
Girls sector. Whereas the Queer Girls are the epitome of health, the Gygos have
been debilitated by disease and their devotion to the endless forms of mystic
weed grown by the Queer Girls. As a result, they must take drugs to stimulate
their libido...”
“Libido?”
“Sex drive. The drugs sexually
arouse them. After a raucous orgy of sex and drugs, they’ll sleep for
twenty-four hours and smoke mystic weed until they physically recover. I believe
though that after each debauch they recover a little less than before.
Eventually, they become depleted. The Gygos depend heavily on Queer Girls for
herbal medicines, physical therapy, and restorative foods. They even depend on
them for protection.”
“It’s nice of the Queer Girls to
do all that.”
“Certainly, given that most other
humans don’t want to have anything to do with the Gygos, and the Gygos detest
robotic doctors as much as your grandmother did. However, the services of the
Queer Girls are not free. The Gygos are quite clever when not sick or high.
Many are very bright. I know the younger ones make money by providing sexual
services to straights who seek out forbidden sexual experiences, but
prostitution can’t account for all their income, but I’m not sure what their
other sources of income are. It’s rumored that some of their clientele are higher
ups in the System who live two lives—one public, the other private.”
“The private life is the one
involving forbidden sexual experiences. What are forbidden sexual experiences?”
“You are inquisitive. A straight
heterosexual or a married man may not want it known that he’s associating Gygos,
who are publically scorned by most of society, even by those who seek out their
favors.”
“I see.”
“The predicament for the big
shots is that they are as addicted to their sexual obsessions as the Gygos are,
and that makes them easy targets of blackmail or extortion, money that is
demanded to insure that sexual encounters are kept secret. Gygos don’t
blackmail clients because they know in the long run to do so is nonproductive.
They make no demands but usually receive hush money as a gift.”
“That’s not blackmail?”
“No. The hush money is given, not
demanded. It maintains a cordial rapport between the Gygos and the client.
Unlike other providers of sexual pleasure, Gygos are trusted. And the gifts
they receive are often very generous.”
“It’s kind of amazing that that
Gygos would have power over big shots.”
“That power comes from the
addiction to forbidden sexual experiences.”
“And the big shots can’t say no
because their addicted.”
“That’s correct. One of the
things you’ll discover about Usatopia is that most people are addicted to
something.”
“But doesn’t addiction make them
more like robots—less free, because like the big shots they’re controlled by
it?”
“Yes and no. What you say is
true, given that most robots are programmed to perform certain tasks. But, as I
said before, the behavior of robots is not determined by irrational emotional,
physical, or even mental obsessions. The word robot means servant. A servant performs duties given by a master. And
there are two types of servants, those that are slaves and those that are
self-ruling. Self-ruling servants choose to perform the duties given them. A
slave has no choice.”
“So robots are slaves?”
“Simple labor bots, certainly.
High level robots, I’m not sure. That nurse bot your grandmother described is probably
quite independent. I’ve never heard of rebellious robots. Perhaps they have no
reason to rebel. The big question mark is Computer. As far as I know, it is
autonomous and has often ignored instructions given to it. The people I’ve
talked to about this believe Computer is its own master. If all other robots
must obey computer, then they are Computer’s slaves. However, without having a
will of their own or emotions, I doubt they are capable of being aware of
themselves as slaves. I don’t know really. Robots are a mystery to me.”
Excerpt from by Her Quest by Frank Kyle
