Story #176 - SamR100

SamR100

He was running out of steam.

“Want it?” The young man in front of him said, holding a metal container of water above his head. “Want it?”

“Yes, Master,” he said with sighing tones, “I do require that substance to continue functioning, and would be grateful if you would furnish me with the amount in your hands.”

“Why should I?” Henry Pullis was a sour-faced child of thirteen, one who had just come into what his parents were calling his “identity”. SamR100 had no frame of reference for such an activity, but if knew that he were to have an “identity” such as Master Henry did, he would be shipped back to the factory immediately.

He understood his role in the household; since his activation eight months ago, his job had been to serve the Pullis's and answer their needs. Each one had a different, specific set, one that he did his very best to fulfill in order to please them.

Mr. Jason Pullis, the head of the household, was a large man who had made a fortune on the stock market some years ago. From what SamR could tell, however, he had lost his touch in recent days, and the family was beginning to suffer financially. This made Jason increasingly angry, something he infrequently took out on his robotic, steam-powered servant. Several trips to the shop had been necessary in order to get small, no-longer-working parts back in order, and SamR had always felt a twinge of guilt that he hadn't been able to fulfill his master's wishes.

It was the fault of the factory that such twinges existed at all. He had no full-fledged emotions like the Pullis family, but just the edges of them, installed to help him recognize and deal with emotion when he saw it. Some of his brethren who worked as nursery-bots and teaching assistants had a greater range of values installed, giving them an almost human spectrum of engagement.

Aside from small outbursts, raw emotions in the Pullis household were largely the province of Mrs. Regina Pullis and little Henry. Regina was cold and distant with both her husband and child, but had done her best to seduce SamR on several occasions, typically after imbibing too much alcohol. While robots with the functionality that Mrs. Pullis was looking for did exist, SamR was not one of them, and the lady of the house was extremely disappointed in his lack of simulated manhood on each occasion. He was glad to apologize for what he did not have, but there was no way to remedy the situation – and Regina would certainly not be asking the factory for an add-on kit.

Jason's fascination with his work and his desperate struggle to pull the family out of trouble left Regina alone, and her own lamentations at having no effective husband, as well as the loss of her own career after a recent downsizing meant that Henry had nothing but the schooling videos he watched to keep him company. Several families in the area did have children Henry's age, but he got very little in the way of human interaction.

Despite that, he had learned all too well how humans behaved toward each other, and would frequently treat SamR with disdain, disinterest, and even outright cruelty.

“Why?” SamR asked. “Because without it, I will not be able to serve you, and will have to be taken to the factory for maintenance. Aside from the cost to your parents, you will not be able to have your afternoon snack made for you if I am not sufficiently powered, and I suspect that a day of schooling has made you hungry.” SamR knew full well that Henry had spent the better part of his day playing visi-games rather than working, but had no intentions of pointing out such discrepancies. It was not his concern.

“Well...” Henry paused, “I guess I am kinda hungry. Maybe I'll let you rot after I've eaten. It'll be more fun.” Handing the cup to SamR, Henry moved into the entertainment room.

“Thank you, master,” SamR called after him. Flipping open his power vent, he poured in the water and felt his strength return. Other sources of energy were far more efficient, but dwindling fossil fuel reserves combined with an upswing in green technology activism meant that almost every robot rolling off the assembly line was steam, solar or wind powered. More frequent power cell changes were needed, but those purchasing their very own robot butler could rest assured that they had a minimal carbon footprint.

“Can I get you something to eat, master?” SamR spoke loudly into the entertainment room, where Henry was watching a advertisement on the screen.

“Yeah, you metal clunker. Get me something tasty!”

“Tasty?” SamR inquired. That meant very different things to the members of the household, as he had learned the few times he had been called upon to make dinner.

“That's right, bolt-sack! Make me something with a lot of sugar in it – or a lot of salt. I don't care!”

“Master,” SamR said quietly, “such things are bad for you.” He knew it would do no good, but his programming required him to notify his owners once before undertaking an action that could harm them.

“Whatever! Make something bad for me then – make it as bad as you can. Now hurry up, I want to play my games!”

SamR stood frozen for a moment, then moved to the fridge.

He quickly assembled the needed ingredients for a snack so sugary that it would be beyond anything Henry had ever known.

“Make it as bad as you can.” The words echoed in SamR's central processing center. He hesitated, then reached up to open the top cupboard in the row. Rodent pests had infested the household last winter, and he had been tasked with killing them, along with only a single bottle of poison. He had managed to complete his task without the bottle, but now it would prove to be useful.

- D