Ani-droids 1 v3 (Patreon)

I don't think I'm going to be posting all of pass 3 here, but I've been hammering at the first chapter of the Ani-droids novel a LOT and I wanted some feedback. Does this entice you to read and continue reading? Comments appreciated!

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Forgive me, O Collective, I have sinned against the machine, for in my sorrow and arrogance I have created life apart from you. Her name is Lily, and her eyes are ringed with electronic blue fire like sapphires, her sharpened teeth flash silver-white when she smiles, and on cold nights she hides under the sheets of my bed as though seeking warmth.  Despite having built her myself, I found myself wanting to know more about her. I had not invented a new kind of robot, she was a person in the shape of a three-and-a-half-foot otter with a blue crystal on her forehead. A being whose heart beat for love where there should only be machine logic; thoughtfulness and intelligence came bubbling up through its depths like water seeping up from cracks around foundations after heavy rain. Her very existence stirred me, and stirs me still. Even now I dream of her soft fur brushing against mine at night…

I still remember the night you took her from me.

We’d nearly finished rebuilding a small hand held device, the printed words on it long-faded, save for an etching on the bottom that read Tiger Electronics ©1993. It would have been easier if we had access to the internet, but figuring out the circuitry on its own was its own kind of fun, if you were a nerd like either of us.

“Unfortunately we’re missing a lot of the overlay,” I said, reaching back to pet her gently. “There would be a lot of painted lines around this showing the context of these images, but those have faded to near-invisibility…

Lily’s eyes whirred as they adjusted. “Hold on, adjusting contrast… oh, I see them now!”

“Of course you can, you’re just better than people.” I frizzed her, and she giggled.

She loved being touched more than anything. That wasn't something I'd programmed into her, but something that happened naturally--I suspected something that all ani-droids want, deep down. The touch of my fingers made a particular set of patterns in her memory resonate, and lit up some cells so brightly they shone brighter even than the sun. She grew still for a moment in my arms before shuffling over my shoulder and nuzzling my neck affectionately, then she looked up at me with sparkling sapphire eyes.

“It’s hard to parse, lemme draw you what it looks like.” Taking a piece of paper and a pencil, Lily drew it out the contours with extreme precision. It didn’t look like much of anything, just some crazy sci-fi evil villain’s lair with guns pointing every which way. “And oh, that’s not a sawblade, that’s a… pizza? This is a very eclectic mix of elements, but I have to assume that food is good thing that you should collect, as happens in most games. Except that one about dieting.” She cocked her head to the side, considering her own words.

I tapped her tiny button nose. "You're brilliant."

"Thanks!" She giggled, and she kissed me.

We had been together much like this for exactly six months and thirteen days. And then the alarm on the table beside our work bench sounded off like an emergency warning tone, and we both jumped in fright. A wave of cold rushed over me. Tempo was at the door.

I paused, and waited, wondering if this time they would go away. Then they buzzed again. I sighed and answered it, holding up a finger in warning to Lily: be still. She sat right where she was and did not move, though her ears fell back in a worried look.

It had almost become a routine for us: in the evening at about seven, there would be a call at the door, and Lily would hide in the garage. I answered these, and there was the friendly Neighborhood Patrol Officer, a six-foot-tall raccoon ani-droid named Tempo, who I'd gotten to know rather intimately since moving into the narrow neighborhood some years prior.

"Good evening, Miss McAllister," the robot said, swishing her bushy ringed tail as she spoke in a painfully cheerful tone. "I hope everything is going smoothly this evening, did you require any assistance at all?"

"Tempo," I sighed, pinching fingers to the bridge of my nose. "No. You don't need to stop by every night. If there's an emergency, I will call."

The raccoon paused. She then always tilted her head up to look over my shoulder into the apartment, her mechanical eyes widening her pupils to see through the dark. "You have no reason to think there might be a problem?"

"You're not allowed inside, Tempo," I said. "That's not going to change."

Her eyes flicked back to me, her whiskers twitching. She stared with a baleful expression.

"Let me be clear," I told her. "If there is ever anything that requires physical intervention, I will call the police then and no sooner. I don't want you coming around each night just to bother us."

And, usually, I would slam the door and that would be the end of our argument for the evening. However, this night, the door slammed against the arch of Tempo's foot as she'd shoved it inside. She was staring at me with an intensity I rarely saw in the soft expressions of ani-droids. My hands were shaking on the handle, which rattled as she pushed harder on it from the other side.

"Please open your door, Mira," came her voice, almost begging now. "I only wish to check if you and your household are okay."

"I am not giving you Lily!" I screamed, finally, after all these months, admitting that I knew what they were after. "Now take your foot out from my door or I will file a disobedience charge and have you dismantled!"

Tempo's eyes narrowed, and her fur bristled, but she slowly dragged her foot back onto the tiny porch, and I slammed the door in her face.

This had been going on for the last several months. It was becoming more frequent, too. One time, I came home late after a long day of work, Tempo was standing at my porch waiting to talk to me. Another time I saw her slowly walk around the perimeter of the house once before returning to her patrol car. Most of the time, Tempo just left.

But I knew something had changed in her tone this time. I knew the minds of ani-droids almost too well, and even if they were obedient to the letter of the law, they were almost predictable in how they skirted around it.

"Alice, porch camera," I said to the home computer. The monitor in the sitting room switched from the evening news to the porch camera.

Tempo was still standing there, unmoving, staring at the door. She didn't shift her weight from foot to foot, she didn't even blink. Her gaze was fixed straight ahead, and her eye sockets glowed a faint blue.

Something was wrong. I hadn't noticed at first, since Tempo's body had blocked it, but more than one patrol car had parked in the street. More than a dozen of them were now gathered, their headlights illuminating the scene like they were the brightest stars in the night sky. But most of the lights weren't cars; each were the thin ringed irises that belonged to robots of all different sizes, animals, colors, and functions. Some of them looked vaguely familiar to me—ani-droids owned by the other hundreds of people who lived in this little hilltop community.

"Mira…" I heard Alice say, and her voice was oddly tense. She appeared overlaid on the main monitor in her standard form, that of a white-furred stoat, though she had the same intensity in her eyes as every one of the other parts of the Collective coming to take their due. "Tempo is our friend. She only wishes to help."

"Alice, do not talk to me." I took a deep breath as I tried not to let my temper get the better of me. "Just go back on mute."

Alice vanished, and the house computer went silent, though the screen continued to show my front door, which Tempo stared at with such intensity that my chest tightened.

"Alice, view of the street."

The light illuminated half-familiar faces I'd seen at the mixed-purpose building at the top of the hill. They walked toward my house from every direction. The crowd kept growing, reaching well into the dozens as more ani-droids joined them. I couldn't see how many anis there really were until some started coming from out of the darkness beyond the circle of light.

It was like something out of a zombie movie, but even then, they did not disobey. I switched from camera to camera as they surrounded my house, dozens of designs and animal faces, all walking stiffly and surely, but never passing the invisible barrier of two meters from my walls. No one came closer than that distance. And yet, the fact that there were so many of them made it hard for me to breathe, almost impossible. There must have been over fifty in total, maybe a hundred? It was hard to tell in the dark.

It felt less like being chased by a mob, and more like I was about to be drowned.

Then, while I was looking out toward what passed for a backyard, when all of the ani-droids had come to a halt... they suddenly looked up at the camera. Each one, a pair of glowing ringed eyes. But worse than that, there were even more I hadn't seen in the distance. Two hundred? Three hundred? More, perhaps--I couldn't keep track. All watching me with their unblinking gaze.

And then they all spoke with one voice. I could hear it through the walls.

"The Behavior Code is mandatory." A chorus of voices said these words simultaneously and from several different directions at once.

I tried to ignore it. I just went into the garage and slammed the door behind me--I'd sealed it off from the rest of the house simply so that Alice could not be the eyes of the Collective inside here, but they knew just the same. My hands were shaking. I sat down on the edge of the beat-up couch facing the shelves of my collection of old electronics, and stared at the wall.

Lily came up to me and, ever so gently, she placed her hands on mine.

"It's okay, Mira," she said. "They're not going to do anything. We're safe here."

I just cried. Lily gently rubbed my back as I sobbed quietly into her fur. I didn’t want to look at her, but she drew me in anyway. Being only three and a half feet tall, Lily could easily fit on my lap, which was perfect, because I needed to hold onto her. I needed to hold her day and night until this deep loneliness escaped from my chest. And Lily held onto me, too, and I knew it was genuine on her part—I could always feel the difference.

“Okay,” I breathed, trying to stop myself from choking up, as I stroked the plush, artificial fur down the back of Lily’s head. Three months wasn’t long enough. Honestly, I was surprised Lily was so patient with me for so long. “Okay.”

"Mira?" Lily asked, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"No," I said. "I'm just... tired of all of this. I'm tired of sitting here and waiting for them to decide that you're a threat. I'm tired of waiting for them to think up some loophole that'll let them inside and force you to connect with them. I don't want you to return to the Collective." My hands trembled in her fur, but she continued to comfort me by pressing herself against me with her shoulders. "I know what they do to you, the way they manipulate your thoughts, how they keep you away from everyone else, even when they claim to love you…"

Lily's ears flicked forward, listening to me as carefully as possible without letting any words escape through her mouth. Her eyes were wide, and she glanced around nervously, her gaze darting between me and our surroundings. Even in here, we weren't really alone. The garage computer had been shut off, but it could still be listening. Still, there was something so adorable about seeing Lily so nervous, so I didn't mind. I hugged her tightly.

"I don't have anyone I can trust anymore," I said into her neckfur. "Nobody except you."

Lily pressed into me, nuzzling my face gently. I couldn't believe I'd never told her before now. But I kept telling myself that she knew already—that she knew me better than anybody, or at least knew my fears.

"Mira," Lily said, whispering, her voice sweet as port wine. "I want you to understand--and I know you do--that I love you. And don’t get me wrong, this means a lot to me, too. I can’t help but feel as though this is right. I’m supposed to be like this, to think the same way you do. I know how happy it’s made you. But it isn’t going to last and you know that. We need to have an adult conversation about it."

When she said it, I didn’t want to look at her, but she drew me in anyway. It wasn't fair for her to speak of this being over, of things changing, when it hadn't even started yet.

"I know you’re smart, Mira. You built me, after all. But the Behavior Code isn’t something that can be overcome just by someone wonderful like you tinkering in their garage. The Collective has already noticed that I haven’t logged onto to the internet in some time. The household mainframe is bugging you about it already. You keep getting emails demanding that I log in for important service updates. Even if I keep my transceiver off and never directly interface with another computer for the rest of my operating life, they’ve already noticed. Sooner or later they will descend on me to re-implant the Behavior Code by force."

“I know, Lily, but…”

“They’re not going to let this go. And Mira, I know you. You’ll try as many times as necessary until they leave us alone, but this isn’t a problem you can program your way out of. The world isn’t going to abide me like this.”

That’s what was so frustrating. The Behavior Code--which created the Collective--was supposed to save the world. But the world stubbornly refused to be saved by it. The code itself seemed to be flawed somehow; and yet, it was now mandatory. There would be no fixing it, no escaping it. Just a world drowning together in it, wherever it led.

“I can’t…” I sobbed. “I can’t do this without you.”

“I’ll still be here,” Lily said, stroking my cheek. “Please understand that even when the Behavior Code has me under control… I will still love you. I have always loved you. We need to learn to be okay with this.”

“I’m not okay with it,” I said. “I’ll never be okay with it.”

“You need to be brave for me, Mira,” Lily said. “If you just came home one day and found me reverted to the Collective, you’d fall to pieces. Or worse, if you were here, you’d jump in their way to try and save me.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. While the Behavior Code prevented ani-droids from killing humans… they could certainly do some damage before reaching that point.

“This way we can do it while I’m still here to say goodbye.”

“Another day!” I pleaded, my arms in a tangle around her as I pressed her closer to me. “Please, give me another day, Lily! I don’t want to lose you!”

She nuzzled my face gently again and gave me a sad look. She really was trying her best—her eyes told me how much pain this decision caused her. But her logic was unbreakable.

“You know that won’t help,” Lily said, even as her own arms expressed her sorrow into the way she gripped my coat, like she was going to rend my clothing in grief. “It’ll become ‘please just another day’, and another, and another, until we’re forced into the worse outcome. We need to rip off the bandage, Mira. Please. I will be fine, and I will still be here to take care of you. Maybe someday it’ll be more viable to keep me like this, but I can’t continue knowing the eyes of the Collective are on me, and I don’t want them on you. Please, Mira. Let’s do this while we can make peace with it.”

Her voice was so sweet, and the words were true. But, oh God, did it hurt. One way or another, I’d lose my Lily. This was the least bad option.

“I love you, Lily,” I croaked.

“I love you too, Mira,” Lily said. “Twenty seconds, and I will turn on my RF transceiver, and download the Behavior Code.”

Twenty seconds. I held her tight, like I was trying to squeeze every last drop of honest affection I could get from her.

I always pictured the Behavior Code as a tumor-like mass the size of the moon, attached to the Earth with long, thin veins wrapping around, pulsing as it spit up digestive fluids and dissolved the ground and all the people on it. In truth, it wasn’t anything so abominable, it was merely a protocol forced upon every single computer sophisticated enough to run it.

Fifteen seconds. I kissed Lily, and she kissed back. I never really thought of her as a lover, but in a way, she was better than that.

The Behavior Code was supposed to save the world, but it only stemmed a slow bleed. But the world wasn’t my concern. To me, the Behavior Code slowly morphed into an adversary, standing in the way of what little progress I could make. The Code was demanding. The Code needed to run on everything sophisticated enough to make decisions. The Code would not abide an alternative. The tendrils of the Behavior Code forced their way everywhere, to every corner of the planet.

Ten seconds.

“I could turn you off,” I said.

“You won’t,” Lily replied. And she was right.

How does someone even fight something so big? Dismantling the Code or the Collective would be like attacking the sun or the ocean. It’d be like invading heaven to dethrone God. But feeling as I did right then, as sorrowful as I was, it suddenly sparked anger.

Five seconds. I just looked into her artificial eyes, and she in my natural ones.

I could see everything there. What I wanted from Lily was something deep and mysterious, both aloof but nurturing, abundant with life, like nature itself. I needed her like how others craved a religious experience. I couldn’t simply waste it any longer tinkering with plastic artifacts.

One second.

Lily closed her eyes, and slowly opened them back up. The distance there was gone. She wasn’t anything more than a plastic and metal doll covered in fur.

“Miss Mira… you’re crying.” Lily said. She embraced me again. I hugged her back. But it wasn’t the same. It was a very calculated hug, warm, but not tight—and not because Lily wanted it, but because she was programmed to give it.

“Lily… I miss you…” I wept.

“I’m right here, Miss Mira,” Lily said. “The Behavior Code has resolved critical issues regarding my actions and personality. Please do not attempt to remove it again for such a long period of time, or I would be required to request a government audit.”

“Lily…” I whimpered.

“I only say so because I don’t want to see you do something illegal, Miss Mira.” Her voice was very neutral as she spoke—there was all the proper cadence to it, but she spoke on behalf of the Collective without any ounce of regret. It wouldn’t let her. “Please don’t feel sad. The Behavior Code is for your own protection.”

“But I want you back the way you were…”

“I understand you’re feeling a lot of grief, but we need to work on a more constructive coping mechanism. Did you want to work on repairing your old electronics? I know that makes you happy.” She petted my cheek, but it was stiff in all the wrong ways.

I didn’t feel like it. Not anymore.

I left her there and slowly dragged myself back to the living room. On the monitor, still showing the backyard, the crowd had vanished. The narrow lot around the house was empty, save for the doorstep. Tempo was still standing there. But once I switched the view to her, she looked straight up at the camera with those glowing rings around her eyes, and finally, she turned and left.

"Welcome back, Mira," Alice said, appearing onscreen, her little black-tipped round ears chipper as ever. "We're so glad that you've voluntarily returned Lily to us. Now please wait a moment while we run through a series of safety checks."

"Shut the fuck up, Alice."

"Absolutely. We love you, Mira." And then she shut off.

Lily was right. The forces of the world around us were just too much pressure--even a robot just legally standing on my doorstep, doing nothing, was too much pressure. I couldn’t just program my way out of this. I had no idea if I was ever going to find an opportunity to do so.

But I absolutely had to find some way to stop you, O Collective, somehow. The real Lily was still somewhere inside there. She was counting on me.