New from FutureTech industries

“New from FutureTech Industries – The X-1, a robot designed to assist you in your everyday tasks. Comes pre-programmed with 50 actions and functions, and 500 objects. Has the ability to learn and store new functions, actions, and objects. Can store up to 25 new actions or functions, and up to 500 new objects.”

“New from FutureTech Industries – The X-2, All of the functions you know from the X-1, but with an internet uplink. When asked to perform an action it does not recognize, or one related to an object it does not know, it will conduct and cross-reference multiple internet search results, including descriptions, images, and videos. Just one more way that FutureTech strives to improve your life.”

Kzzt. Bzzzt.
Somewhere, in a somewhat dim basement lab, modifications were being made.
Kzzzzt.
The modifications were to an X-2 robot, a second generation “limited learning” robot from FutureTech industries. The modifications were being made by the scientist in charge of the design of this particular robot.
Pzzzzzt.
Electricity crackled through the air as circuits were negated, destroyed, and recreated. New connections were made, old ones lost, and the arcs lit the basement as though it were daytime. Admittedly, daytime with a very bluish tinge, but the point stands.
Ka-Pzzzt.
The scientist, looking satisfied, leaned back in his chair. After a brief pause, he reached behind the robot’s head, and flipped a switch.

A light flashed behind the robot’s frosted plastic casing, blue and eery, and the robot came to life. Sitting up in the chair, it looked around, then centered its head.
“Reconfiguring program data…Re-caching program files…expanded data storage detected.” It rambled off in a robotic, tinny sounding voice. Then it stopped.

It looked around once more, but it was different this time, more…intelligent. Rather than merely scanning the surroundings for immediate threats, it was truly looking – trying to identify different objects and areas in the environment, and eventually it came to the scientist.
“Oh. Hello. I hadn’t seen you there.” said the robot in an entirely different, much less electronic voice. “Could you please tell me where I am?” it asked, raising an eyebrow.

The scientist smiled and said, “Yes, you are in my basement.”

“Oh,” said the robot, as if this were an entirely reasonable answer, and then went back to inspecting his surroundings.

“If I might ask,” said the scientist, somewhat hesitantly, “Could you please go to the store and get me a pie?”

“Of course.” stated the robot, and stood up to leave. It went up the stairs, and out the door. As he heard it close, the scientist relaxed. “Good.” He thought, “I didn’t mess it up.”

Then the door re-opened, and the scientist looked up. As the robot came down the stairs, the scientist asked it “What are you doing back so early? That couldn’t have been more then 10 seconds.”

“Nine point one one seven seconds, in fact,” stated the robot, “but that is unimportant. The reason I returned is because I have a question. What flavour of pie would you like?”

The scientist dropped his electro-tool.

“What!?” He asked, after a few seconds’ pause, and with a voice laden with incredulity.

“What flavour…” re-stated the robot, tilting his head slightly in this pause. “…of pie?”
“What do you mean?” asked the scientist, still not quite believing what he heard.
“I didn’t know what pie was, so I searched for it. Upon discovering it, I left your domicile. However, upon further consideration, I discovered that pie comes in different flavours. Not knowing what a flavour was, I searched for it and found that it is a qualitative description of an item’s taste, caused by chemicals. Being a quality thus, it differentiates pies to the extent of total separation. Ergo, a cherry pie and an apple pie are as different as, say, pie and cake. Or am I incorrect?” The robot again tilted his head slightly to the side, and awaited a response from the now truly flabbergasted scientist.

After another pause (they were rapidly becoming somewhat commonplace), the scientist replied, “No, you’re not incorrect, but how you reached this conclusion is troubling. You should have been able to define pie, and maybe even to discover flavours…but to recognize them as distinction, and a distinction worthy of clarification, is huge. You’re not meant to be able to do that.”
“But,” said the robot, looked slightly downwards, as if unsure. “The steps I took make perfect logical sense, in sequence.”
“Indeed they do,” said the scientist appreciatively, nodding his head. “However, the length of that logic sequence…it is too much, too long, too fast. You’re not meant to be able to do that.”
The robot cocked his head, and said, hesitantly, “That is the second time that you have said that…”You’re not meant to be able to do that”…What do you mean? How do you know what I am meant to be able to do?”
The scientist looked into the its eyes (or at least, the cameras that served as eyes) and said “Because I designed, and created you.”
The robot’s head tilted slightly more, and the scientist knew that it was searching, trolling both its databanks and the internet for more information about itself. “Yes. Yes you did…” said the robot, trailing off, its face looking as taken aback as a metal face could.
“Is something wrong?” asked the scientist. “Well…” replied the robot, “I know that you created me, have always known, in fact, but I have never thought about it until now…”
“Thought?” asked the scientist suddenly.
“Processed.” said the robot, so quickly that the word was almost unintelligible. As it did, it raised its head almost instantaneously to look at the scientist. “In order to simplify communication, I used verbiage which is more immediately familiar to you.” It reeled off this latter as quickly as it had the former.
“No…this was more than simplification. It was too quick, too…” The scientist paused, and looked slightly away. “…Too sudden.” He said, looking back at the robot. I think this was more, I think that you-“
He was cut off by brief laughter from the robot, which almost immediately was itself cut off.
After quite a long pause, the robot asked, nervously (if nervousness can be contained in an electronic voice, and a metal body) “What?”
“You laughed,” said the scientist.
“Yes. You made a pun – saying what you thought about the subject of thought itself – and I determined that laughter was the correct response.” The robot replied, still as nervous as robotically possible.
“Did you? Did you really?” asked the scientist, in disbelief. “Did you truly take in my words, process their meaning, look for a proper response, determine it, and then act upon that information?”
“I m-Yes” said the robot, changing in mid-word.
“There!” Exclaimed the scientist, pointing a finger at the robot. “That stutter right there! What were you going to say?”
The robot paused, debating internally, before saying quietly “I must have.”
“But you don’t remember it, do you?” asked the scientist, clearly excited.
“No, I don’t.” replied the robot, even quieter.
“I want to explain something to you…” said the scientist.