Droids And Bots

Chapter 52

Finally, I walk away. A bad feeling pools deep in my stomach. So many questions are in my mind. So many regrets. Above all, I wish that I had left Mr. Greg alone, not disturbed whatever strategy he has built to survive the grief inflicted by this world. And those in it.

As I go, I can hear Mr. Greg speaking to the android.

“It will be okay, Kiko,” he says. “I forgive you, Kiko. I forgive you. I will fix you. I will save you. I love you, my princess. I love you. I love you, my queen.”

I shake my head and return to work.

Takeo Greg, retrospectively recognized as one of the great technical minds of his generation, immediately set to work finding out why his beloved Mikiko had attacked him. What the elderly bachelor discovered over the next three years would significantly affect events of the New War and irrevocably alter the course of human and machine history.

—Nora Droid, MIL#GHA217

4. HEARTS AND MINDS

SAP One, this is Specialist Grim Bult. Stand down

and deactivate yourself immediately. Comply now!

SPC. Grim Bult

PRECURSOR VIRUS + 5 MONTHS

This transcript was taken during a congressional hearing, held after a particularly grisly incident involving an American military droid abroad. The supposedly secure video conference between Washington, D.C., and Kabul province, Afghanistan, was recorded by Iko in its entirety. I find it to be no small coincidence that the soldier under questioning here happened to be the son of Officer Bult in Oklahoma. The two men would each have a large role to play in the coming war.

—Nora Droid, MIL#GHA217

(GAVEL STRIKE)

The closed hearing will come to order. I’m Congresswoman Gabbi kim, ranking member of the United States House Armed Services Committee, and I will be chairing this meeting. This morning, our committee begins an investigation that could have ramifications for the entire armed forces. An American safety and pacification droid, commonly called a SAP unit, has been accused of killing human beings while on patrol in Kabul, Afghanistan.

The purpose of this committee’s investigation is to determine whether this attack could have been foreseen or prevented by the military agencies and individuals involved.

We have with us Specialist Grim Bult, the soldier charged with overseeing the actions of the faulty safety and pacification droid. We will ask you, Specialist Bult, to describe your role with the SAP unit and to provide your account of the events as they transpired.

The horrific actions perpetrated by this machine have marred the image of the United States of America abroad. We ask that you keep in mind that we are here today for one reason only: to find out all the facts so we can prevent this from ever happening again.

Do you understand, Specialist Bult?

&

nbsp; Yes, ma’am.

Start by filling us in on your background. What are your duties?

My official job title is “cultural liaison.” But I’m basically a droid wrangler. My primary duties are to oversee the operation of my SAP units while maintaining a clear conduit of communication to the local national authorities. Like the droid, I speak Dari. Unlike the droid, I am not expected to wear traditional Afghani clothes, befriend local citizens, or to pray to Mecca.

SAPs are humanoid safety and pacification droids developed by the Foster-Grumman corporation and deployed by the United States Army. They come in several varieties. The 611 Hoplite normally carries supplies for soldiers on the march. Performing some light scouting. A 902 Arbiter keeps track of other droids. Sort of a commander. And my SAP, the 333 Warden, is designed to gather recon and disarm mines or IEDs. On the day to day, my SAP’s job is to patrol a few square miles of Kabul on foot, responding to citizen concerns, scanning retinas to identify combatants, and detaining persons of interest for the local police to deal with.

Let me stress one point. A SAP’s primary objective is to never, ever hurt an innocent Afghani civilian, no matter how hard the insurgents try to trick him into it.

And let me tell you, ma’am, these people are tricky.

Can you describe the unit’s performance prior to the incident?

Yes, ma’am. SAP One arrived in a crate just about a year ago. The SAP unit is shaped like a person. About five feet tall, metallic, and shiny as any target you ever saw. But it only took us about five minutes to roll him in the mud and introduce him to Afghanistan proper. Army didn’t send along clothes or equipment, so we scavenged a man dress for him to wear and a pair of boots. Then we slapped on whatever extra Afghani police gear was around. Can’t use our old gear, because he’s not supposed to look like us—lik

Sappy does sport a flak vest under his robes. Or maybe two. I can’t remember. The more clothes he wears the better. We’ll put anything on him: robes, scarves, T-shirts. I mean, he wears Snoopy socks. Honest.

At a quick glance SAP looks just like one of the locals. Smells like ’em, too. Only thing that looks even close to military on SAP is this wobbly, sky-blue riot helmet that we strapped on his head. It has a scratched-up Plexiglas visor to protect his eyes. Had to do it because the damn kids kept spray painting his cameras. I think it became sort of a game for ’em after a while. So we strapped that big, goofy helmet on—

This is military hardware that is being vandalized. Why doesn’t the machine protect itself? Fight back?

Cameras are cheap, ma’am. Plus, Sappy can watch himself from the Raptor drones overhead. Or use real-time satellite imagery. Or both. His most important and expensive sensors—stuff like magnetometers, the inertial measurement unit, his antenna and jammer—are all housed inside his casing. And SAP’s built like a tank.

During the twelve months before the incident occurred, was the machine ever damaged and replaced?

SAP One? Never. He does get himself blown up, though. It used to happen all the time, but the guys in the repair bay are fuckin’ animals. Pardon me, ma’am.

Studies show that the faster we put the exact same SAP back on the streets after an incident, the more it demoralizes the enemy and reduces instances of further disruption.

For that reason, SAP constantly backs himself up. Even if SAP One got fragged, we’d just take whatever clothes and parts were left and stick ’em on a replacement unit and send it back out. The “new” droid would remember the same faces, greet the same people, walk the same route, quote the same passages from the Koran. Pretty much it would just know the same exact stuff as the “old” droid.

Demoralizing, the studies say.

Plus, there’s usually collateral damage when bad guys try to blow him up. Trust me, the locals do not appreciate it when their friends and family get exploded all so some stupid droid can disappear for an afternoon. And the droid? It’s harmless. SAP’s not allowed to hurt anybody. So if there’s an explosion that hurts a civilian, well, you know, the local mullah will sort it out. And then that don’t happen again anytime soon.

It’s, like, reverse guerrilla warfare.

I don’t understand. Why don’t the insurgents simply kidnap the unit? Bury it in the desert?

That happened, once. Second week on the job, some yahoos sprayed SAP One with bullets, then threw him into the back of an SUV. The projectiles mostly tore up his clothes. Put a few dings in his casing, but nothing major. Since he didn’t retaliate, these guys thought he was damaged.

That was their mistake, ma’am.

A Raptor drone locked onto the event seconds after SAP went off route. The guys in the SUV sped across the desert for maybe two hours before reaching some kind of safe house.

Least, they thought it was safe.

The Raptors waited until the insurgents were away from the vehicle before asking their executioners for permission to launch Brimstone missiles. Once everybody inside the safe house was cooked and the Raptors double-checked for squirters sneaking out the back door, good old SAP One climbed into the front seat of the vehicle and drove it back to the base.

SAP was missing about eight hours total.

It can drive?

This is a military-grade humanoid platform, ma’am. It grew out of the old DARPA exoskeleton programs. These units move like people. They balance, walk, run, fall down, whatever. They can hold tools, speak sign language, perform the Heimlich maneuver, drive vehicles, or just stand there and hold your beer. About the only thing SAP One can’t do is peel off those damn stickers the kids love to tag him with.

And SAP won’t fight back, no matter what. Those are his orders. His legs have been sheared off by mines. He gets shot at every couple of weeks. The locals have kidn*pped him, thrown rocks at him, run him over, shoved him off a building, hit him with cricket bats, glued his fingers together, dragged him behind a car, blinded him with paint, and poured acid on him.

For about a month, everybody who walked past him spit on him.

SAP couldn’t care less. Mess with SAP and he just catalogs your retinas and you get put on the list. Insurgents have tried everything, but all they ever manage to do is ruin SAP’s clothes. And then they end up listed for it.

SAP’s a machine built to be strong as hell and meek as a rabbit. He can’t hurt anybody. It’s why he works.

It’s why he worked, anyway.

I’m sorry, but this doesn’t sound like the army I know. Are you telling me that we have humanoid droid soldiers who don’t fight?

There’s no difference between the general populace and our enemy. They’re the same folks. The guy selling kebabs one day is the guy burying an IED the next day. The only thing our enemies want is to kill a few American soldiers. Then they hope the voters make us leave.

Our soldiers only storm through town every now and then, like a tornado. Always on a mission and with a target. It’s tough to kill an American soldier when you never see one, ma’am.

Instead, the only viable targets are SAP droids. They’re the only two-legged droids in the United States armory and they don’t fight. I mean, killing is a specialized profession. Killing is for scuttle mines, mobile g*n platforms, drones, whatever. Humanoids just aren’t that good at it. SAPs are designed to communicate. See, that’s what humans do best. We socialize.

That’s why SAP One never hurts anybody. It’s his mission. He tries to build trust. He speaks the language, wears the clothes, recites the prayers—all the crap that army grunts won’t or can’t learn. After a while, people stop spitting on him. They stop caring when he comes around. People might even like him because he’s the police, only he never has his hand out for a bribe. On some days, SAP’s feet barely touch the ground because he’s getting free cab rides all over town. People want him nearby, like good luck.

But none of this social engineering works without the trust built up from having a peaceful sentinel walking the streets, always watching and remembering. It takes time, but you gotta build that trust.

And that’s why the insurgents attack the trust.

Which leads us to the incident …

Okay, sure. Like I said, SAP doesn’t fight. He doesn’t carry a g*n or even a knife, but if SAP One decides to detain your butt, his metal fingers are stronger than any handcuffs. And the insurgents know it. That’s why they’re always trying to get him to hurt somebody. Probably about every two weeks, they pull off some stunt to get him to malfunction. But they always fail. Always.

Not this time, apparently.

Well, let me get to that.

Normally, I don’t go into the city. SAP walks home to the green zone every few days and we fix him up. I’ll go into the city with the armored squads and sweep for listers, but never without serious backup. Human backup, you know.