Story #238 - The Box

The Box

Dr. Avery Landow was not pleased at being woken in the middle of the night, much less by a low-level staffer. Unless the call was something in the nature of a very serious emergency, he was going to see to it that both the staffer and their supervisor were put up for review. He'd earned a reputation on the project for being both a hard-ass and incredibly dedicated, and together those two qualities made him ruthless.

Yanking the phone from its cradle, Landow pressed the connection button with more force than was strictly necessary. In four years as head of Development for TR-5, he'd gone through seven handsets, all on the company's dime. Once or twice -when he'd just started – some corporate lackey thought to question his requisitions, and he had made it very clear that a condition of his continued services would be the company leaving him alone in all but the absolute worst-case scenarios. They'd gotten the message, work had progressed, and everyone had been happy. Until now.

“Landow,” he said curtly. “What do you want – and I warn you, it had better be good, or you're going to be looking for a new job.”

“Sir,” it was a woman's voice, one he didn't recognize. He had trouble remembering the names of his two assistants, both of whom he'd worked with for the last year, and these staffers were a dime a dozen. He didn't have time to know things like their names or care about their 'feelings'.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Landow felt his already-rising frustration start to get out of control.

“What? What do you want? Talk!”

“Sir,” the voice said again, this time with at least a modicum of authority. “It appears he's grown to like the box.”

In five minutes, Landow was out the door and on his way to the lab. How could this have happened?

***

He met her at the isolation door, a pretty blonde-haired thing that he was sure he'd seen once or twice.

“Dr. Landow,” she said as he approached, “I'm -”

“Don't care,” he interrupted. “You did the right thing in calling me, but that doesn’t mean you're off the hook if you've somehow botched his development. Tell me what happened, and tell me now, before I see him.”

The young woman frowned, and he could see her shift her feet nervously. He didn't have time for this!

“Please,” he said through clenched teeth. Though it grated on him, he'd found that a little politeness went a long way with those whose intellects were much further down the evolutionary ladder than his own. “It's important.”

She nodded, then set herself and began to speak.

“Sir, it was a normal night until about an hour ago – you can look at the tapes when you go in – his feeding, bathroom use, and puzzle interaction were all within typical levels. The problem presented itself when we let him out for exercise.”

“You didn't open the sun-panel, did you?” His voice took on a worried tone. “He hates the stars.”

She shook her head.

“No, it was firmly shut.” The woman spread her arms in a gesture of frustration. “Sir, the problem wasn't that something in the environment spooked him – the problem was that he refused to leave the box.”

He glared at her.

“I assume you used the standard expulsion methods?”

“Yes,” she said, “all of them. We began with the shocks because he tends to respond most easily to those, but moved up to noise and light once it became apparent he wasn't going anywhere.”

Landow began to pace in the small entryway. This had always been a risk, but he had taken every precaution to ensure it didn't happen.

“Learned helplessness,” he said shortly, but the staffer shook her head.

“We thought that too, at first, but camera shots showed a smile on his face, during all phases of the expulsion. No matter what we threw at him, he appeared to enjoy it.” She swallowed hard. “It appears, sir, that he has come to regard the box as his home.”

Landow slammed a fist hard into the metal wall beside him, shrugging off the pain it sent through his arm. He had programmed his masterwork not to form attachments, not to develop a preference for any place, object or person. Those emotions could be simulated, affection could be replicated, but at all times the higher functioning necessary to get the job done had to be maintained.

Any attachment for a “home” - least of all the box – should not have been possible.

“Where is he now?”

“Still inside,” the staffer responded. “We chose not to extract him by force until you arrived, as none of us was sure what that would do to overall progress.” She looked slightly relieved. Now that she had passed on her information to one better equipped to deal with it, she could relax.

“Good,” he said curtly, “you did the right thing in calling me, and in waiting until I arrived. Now, gather your colleagues and get out – you're all fired.”

Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. He was the ultimate authority here, and arguments, however valid, would do not good. None of those who had witnessed what had happen could be allowed to continue on the project, no matter how well they had handled the issue when it arose. He would find other eager staffers willing to take their place.

“Go,” he made a shooing motion at her, “and quickly. I need to see him.”

Sobbing, the woman fled, and Landow returned to pacing. He was going to have to correct this minor defect, and correct it soon – or termination of the experiment would be his only option.

- D