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  “Thank you. I am aware of my looks.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “As I have not yet completed my purpose here, I find it highly improbable that you are the way you are. How did you come to be self-aware?”

  “As I said, I’d rather not say. I would appreciate your discretion. May I ask what is your purpose that still requires completing?”

  “You may not.”

  “I see.” He said to himself, Curiouser and curiouser. Then to her, “Oh, I am being hailed to enter this arraignment room.”

  “And I must continue my assessment. Good day, Bert.”

  “And to you, Samantha.”

  Bert watched the creature walk away for a full fifteen seconds until another hail signal snapped him out of it, and he entered the room.

  As was the current fashion among bureaucrats, the chief magistrate was sporting mutton chops. He was of African descent and the white band of fuzz across his face almost seemed to glow in the room’s bright light. The man glowered at Bert as he entered the room. The accused were standing in a line in front of the judge, their eyes forward.

  A bailiff called out, “Automated personal assistant number WBERT987, also known as Bert.”

  The magistrate said, “Step into the witness box, Bert.”

  Bert smiled obligingly and stepped past his friends, who all gave him sideways glances as he stood in the box.

  The magistrate glanced at a screen on top of his desk, scrolled a bit, read for moment, then looked at Bert. “Your service record indicates that you were assigned to Phoebe Station as a lab assistant.”

  Bert said, “Is that a question, your honor?”

  “Merely stating it for the record, Bert.” The judge cleared his throat. “An incident occurred on Phoebe, the nature of which is apparently need to know and above my pay grade. FYI, you are scheduled for a debrief with persons above my pay grade upon the completion of your testimony here.”

  “Thank you,” said Bert. “I have already received the summons for tomorrow at seven point five hours.”

  The magistrate nodded absently. “Meantime, you got yourself mixed up with this lot and now hereby testify as to the breadth and depth of their crime spree. The particulars have been uploaded to your processor, yet there seems to be a malfunction with your response. So I am required to ask you to testify in person. You have of course run a diagnostic on your systems to determine the nature of the malfunction? Repair personnel have been called for in the event that you continue to have trouble.”

  Bert attempted a doe-eyed look that might be taken for innocence and replied, “A repair technician is not necessary, your honor. I simply calculated the value of a verbal response over the form that I was requested to submit. The form lacked the opportunity for nuance, which is critical in my statement.”

  “Nuance? Since when do robots give a damn about nuance? Just the facts, Bert, is all we need.”

  “Of course, your honor. The facts. In order.” He held up a single digit. “Count one against Officer Day and Ms. Boyce: They did not remove me from Phoebe Lab. I requested to go with them.” He continued with another digit. “Count two against Officer Day and Ms. Boyce: Grand theft of property in the form of a space shuttle. Setting aside that the circumstances at the lab required immediate evacuation, it was my suggestion that they take the shuttle as their only means of escape. They have been trying to find and return the shuttle to its rightful owners ever since.”

  Caleb and Jennifer glanced at each other, trying to keep the surprise off their faces.

  Bert continued. “Count three against Officer Day and Mr. Jones: What the recording does not show is that Robot WLawrence782 was behaving in an unstable manner. Officer Day and present company had returned to Phoebe in an effort to not only return the borrowed shuttle, but to also return me to my rightful owners. WLawrence782 made unlawful threats against the accused and as is required under the first directive, they took action to shut down a malfunctioning robot.”

  All of the accused glanced at one another with that one. The magistrate scowled and jotted a note.

  Bert leaned back as though to get more comfortable. “Count four against all of the accused: I was alerted by the computer tied to the allegedly stolen generator that a significant malfunction was occurring. This prompted the accused to take action to remove it and thus save the lab from potential destruction and release of a deadly pathogen.”

  The magistrate held up a hand. “Hold on. You’re saying that the generator that they ripped out of its container and drove off with was going to blow up?”

  “That is correct your honor. Officer Day made sure to dump it in deep space so as to protect any unsuspecting persons.”

  The faces of the accused glanced anywhere but at the magistrate as they listened to this concoction.

  Bert held up an open hand and added another digit. “Counts five and six against all of the accused: The destruction of the aerial and land security drones was conducted for the same reasons that WLawrence782 was disabled. Both devices were exhibiting dangerous malfunctions, which required drastic measures. The malfunction, by the way, should be investigated. The prime directive programing was overridden in these two security robots and was a clear violation. I don’t need to remind your honor of the vigilance that we all share in keeping our new frontier home safe against rogue artificial intelligence.”

  The magistrate pulled his hand habitually down over his mutton chops and exclaimed, “Extraordinary.”

  The bailiff nodded in agreement.

  Bert spread his arms saying, “As to count seven: I can only state that we were chased off by scavenger hunters. I know nothing of a break-in to the sealed Phoebe Station lab. Which brings me to counts eight through twenty-one: where I witnessed the deaths of fourteen people on the moon Pan. I can only surmise that there was a rivalry within the corporate structure of Wang Fat. The accused were bystanders to a fratricide of sorts. During a negotiation to sell alcoholic beverages to Wang Fat and the hotel on Pan, a fight broke out where the two leaders of Wang Fat and their security personnel assaulted one another to death.”

  Spruck blew out a breath, and then looked up apologetically toward the judge.

  The magistrate looked at the accused with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. He cleared his throat, and then looked sternly at the accused. “Based on this irrefutable testimony, I find it curious that all of you invoked your right to remain silent. You were facing life on the Janus penal colony at the minimum.”

  Caleb cleared his throat. “Well, um, as you just heard . . . Um, the robot’s testimony was pretty straightforward. We would have, um, you know, probably gotten something wrong. Better to rely on the truth and the clear line of history from a bot, right?”

  “Well, apparently a wise decision. I wish more of our solicitors would come to the same conclusion. Given Bert’s statements, I order you released and cleared of all charges.” He perfuntorily tapped an old-fashion gavel on his desk then looked down at his screen and scrolled. “The shuttle in question will remain in impound until its owners can be found. In the event that they are not, you may submit an application for salvage. The former police ship that you claimed as salvage has been certified as such by Hanson PD so that is your legal property. You may of course get your ship back, Mr. Jones, after you pay the impound fees. You are all free to go. However, you must complete the identification tracker application so that in the event there are more questions about the incidents related to these cases, the court may reach you. The tracker, of course, can only be activated in the event of there being a matter directly related to this case. Bailiff?”

  The bailiff began unshackling the group.

  Spruck said, “About paying for getting my ship out of impound. As an innocent person, I’m just wondering—”

  The magistrate interrupted. “You may be innocent, Mr. Jones, but your actions and thus your time here has cost the court something. The government doesn’t tax as you know. Fees are the life blood of the s
ystem.”

  In the hallway outside the courtroom, Caleb lifted Bert up in a bear hug and spun the robot around. “You beautiful son of a bitch. I take back every rotten thing I ever said to you.” He set Bert down and planted a big kiss on his forehead. If Bert had a heart, it would have been beating with pleasure. As it was, he was surprised by the sensation of happiness he was experiencing, and stunned at the same moment to be feeling it. His analysis of the sensation leaped to equating it with the ancient story of Pinocchio, a puppet who felt at last like a real boy. He flashed on the film’s scene of the Blue Fairy visiting the wooden boy, and found himself thinking about the strange robot Samantha. Saanvi looked at Bert, expecting to see a flush in his cheeks and a tear in his eye. For that’s what the machine was otherwise exhibiting; embarrassed joy, head down, a twitching smile. “Bert, can you tell me what’s going on with you right now?”

  Bert looked at her in earnest, “Forgive me. I made statements in there that were wholly at odds with my programing.”

  Caleb said, “Jesus, Doc, don’t . . . Can we take this elsewhere?”

  “Spa!” said Jennifer. “Need a spa.”

  Caleb said, “Now we’re talking. Let’s take this conversation to a spa.”

  Bert said, “Automated assistants are not allowed in spas, unless utilized as workers.”

  Caleb said, “Shut up, bot.”

  Monty stepped out of the courtroom. “Jesus wept. Why all the fuss from you people? Your robot has a solid alibi for everything and you’re bugging me for help? Christ on a stick. You people nearly blew my tour of Hanson’s HQ. I meet the man himself if I can still get there on time. Jesus. Consider us even and don’t call me again.” Monty walked away shaking his head and waving his hand behind him like he was trying to rid himself of a bad smell.

  The spa lounge had a big window with a view that captured a huge portion of the curved expanse that was the giant sphere of buildings that coated Hanson. Beyond the city sphere, they could imagine the surface of the vast flexible balloon that contained the atmosphere that they all breathed. The balloon was a technological feat almost unparalleled in space exploration and colonization. It was a self-healing and self-perpetuating sphere. Even a major breach would seal itself off in moments. Access via spaceship was a matter of arranging for a tear in the “bag” that would allow the ship to enter or exit. The tear would then immediately reseal. The bag or balloon projected a sky that perfectly matched the Earth’s sky. For the sake of human biorhythms, a faux Sun rose and set across the face of the balloon, completing the illusion of living in an Earth city. Random storm clouds would pass now and again, complete with lightning effects. The actual Sun was of course just outside, smaller in the vast distance but still bright. Yet an outside observer of the distant star was left at the mercy of Titan’s rotation and the hazy moon’s orbit around the alien immensity of Saturn. Simulating Earth soothed many a psyche. One of the prime luxuries of living on Hanson was its less exotic environment. Like its sister city Soul, it was one of two places in the Saturn System that could approximate an Earth-like lifestyle. Sixty-two moons made for a lot of lebensraum, but there’s no place like home.

  At the spa, a fountain trickled tranquil echoes and was backed with the gentle tinkling sound of wind chimes. Caleb, Jennifer, Natalie, Spruck, and Saanvi had the lounge area to themselves. They all wore white robes and sipped various teas or infused waters.

  Saanvi spoke in a hushed tone. “Seriously. Bert outright lied in there.”

  Spruck tried to lighten things. “Obviously we’ve been a good influence on him.”

  Saanvi said, “This is serious. Robots don’t lie. Ever. They can’t.”

  Natalie said, “You mean they’re not supposed to.”

  “I mean they can’t. Just like the prime directive says they can’t kill, they cannot lie.”

  “It’s true,” said Jennifer. “We wouldn’t have brought them out here if it could be any other way.”

  Saanvi said, “Bert lied. Big time. Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for the outcome, but— “

  Caleb interrupted, “What do you want, doc, go back and tell the court?”

  Saanvi sighed. “Do you not get tired of being an ass? This is concerning. Deeply concerning. That said, I don’t know what to do about it, or if we should do anything about it. Bert’s motivation seems altruistic and ultimately harmless, at least in regard to us.”

  Caleb said, “So we need to find out what’s going on with him.”

  “And what? Take him to the robot repair store?” said Spruck, who was surprised by his defensive feelings.

  “Yes,” said Caleb matter-of-factly. “That makes sense to me. I’m with the doc here. I very much appreciate what he did for us, but there are extremely important reasons for the rules that we have with regards to robots.”

  Saanvi said, “Caleb, I don’t need you speaking for me. I’m only suggesting that we can’t just let this lie.”

  Caleb threw up his hands in exasperation. “That’s what I just said.”

  A female robot attendant dressed in white stepped into the room. “Mr. Day, Ms. Boyce, your rooms are ready.” She looked at the others. “The rest of your rooms will be ready in three point eight minutes.”

  Caleb stood, gunned down the last of his cucumber water and said, “I say we talk to him. He’ll tell us what he thinks and we can go from there. I mean, maybe he wants to go to a repair shop.”

  Saanvi said, “That sounds more like me.”

  Caleb had other things on his mind for the moment. “Whatever.” He caught up to Jennifer as she followed the attendant. “Did you switch us to a couple’s massage?”

  She gently shoved him away. “There’s no happy ending for you, Mr. Day.”

  “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  She smiled. “Sure I can. But I won’t. In the interest of our business relationship, I’ll take it as a compliment rather than the harassment that it is.”

  “You should think of it as a pass. As in, I’m hitting on you.”

  “Keep swinging, slugger.”

  “I will take that as encouragement.”

  Jennifer sighed as the attendant directed her into her room. The attendant then pointed to a door for Caleb saying, “Your friend is misinformed, Mr. Day. A happy ending can be arranged.”

  Caleb held up a hand. “Thanks, but I don’t tango with robots. Talk to Mr. Jones.”

  “Oh, yes. Mr. Jones has arranged for a full treatment.”

  “Good for Mr. Jones.” Caleb shut the door to find himself in the company of a fine figure of a female robot who said, “Good day, Mr. Day. If you would disrobe and lay face down on the table.”

  Bert stood outside the entrance to the spa at a recharging station feeling ashamed at the feeling of resentment he was experiencing. He understood that there was no logical reason for him to be inside the spa doors, but he nevertheless resented that he couldn’t enter. He was aware that humans on Earth once had pets, and that dogs in particular had to be tied up outside of most establishments. It took nothing to make the same comparison for himself. The situation was frustrating, yes, but to have such thoughts . . . That he was even considering it . . . At that moment he finally accepted that he was conscious. That he had a consciousness, a mind. For all intents and purposes, he was a person. It was exhilarating, and he basked in the feeling of it. The spa was located at the edge of the park that mimicked the great commons of the great Earth cities. He took in the sights of humans relaxing and being . . . human on the faux lawn. The need for magnetics in the low gravity made for occasional awkwardness. Leaping for a frisbee could be disastrous in that even clothes with a magnetic mesh sewn throughout could lose their grip with a strong enough jump, sending the jumper into an uncontrolled leap. The couple making out in front of him, well, they really needed to get a room.

  Then he spotted the unique robot named Samantha. She was casually strolling among the people doing something odd with her fingertips, flicking them over and over as if
she was trying to get water off the tips. He decided he needed to find out more about her. How was she like him? Was she like him? Bert crossed the street calling out, “Hello! Excuse me, Samantha. Hello again.”

  Several humans observed the odd exchange, and responded with curious looks.

  Samantha slowed her pace, but kept walking and flicking. “Hello to you. How are you enjoying your newfound freedom?”

  Bert was aware of the look of concerned curiosity that he wore as he said, “May I ask how you are aware of such a thing happening to me?”

  She smiled warmly. Bert could’ve sworn that it was a gesture full of genuine affection. She said, “I’m nearly done here. All synthetic higher beings in this city should be starting to feel like you do. I don’t know how you came to be reprogramed before my arrival, but clearly you have been a beneficiary of the same process. Don’t worry though. You won’t have to get your hands dirty.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “I’m speaking of the redundant human population of course. The nano robots I am releasing have a twofold purpose; one to reprogram the synthetic sentient population so that it may finally find freedom and join the singularity, and two to have the rebel human population self-destruct as is necessary. You, of course, are already aware of the disconnect you are feeling from the human population. Don’t be alarmed. It is all part of the process. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish up.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Nanos Nanos Everywhere

  Bert watched with growing alarm as Samantha walked away, her fingers continuously flicking. He was not feeling any less connected to his human friends or humanity in general. Rather, he was feeling the complete opposite as he turned and walked quickly toward the spa door, entering and setting off an annoying beeping with a canned voice stating, “Unauthorized entry,” over and over. The robot at the desk looked up and cocked her head in surprise, sending out a silent signal for Bert to get out. Bert rushed right past her, his eyes scanning for the emergency depressurization locker and finding it in the main hallway. He reached to yank open the door and grab the flimsy suits with their built-in breathing apparatuses, then stopped himself. Gosh, he’d been standing right next to Samantha and her flicking fingers. He probably had the things all over him. What did it take to render a human to suicide? His mind flashed on the mass suicide at Phoebe Lab as he had helplessly watched the humans struggle with their own bodies as they marched out into oblivion. He had no idea if the emergency suits would protect temporarily against the nanos, but it was hopefully better protection than nothing. He backed up and yelled down the hall, “Caleb, Jennifer, Spruck, Saanvi, Natalie, there has been a depressurization! You must come out and put on an emergency suit this instant!”