Robopocalypse

PRECURSOR VIRUS + 5 MONTHS

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

—CORMAC WALLACE, MIL#GHA217

(GAVEL STRIKE)

The closed hearing will come to order. I’m Congresswoman Laura Perez, 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 robot, 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 Paul Blanton, the soldier charged with overseeing the actions of the faulty safety and pacification robot. We will ask you, Specialist Blanton, 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 Blanton?

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 robot 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 robot, I speak Dari. Unlike the robot, I am not expected to wear traditional Afghani clothes, befriend local citizens, or to pray to Mecca.

SAPs are humanoid safety and pacification robots 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 robots. 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—like a soldier.

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” robot 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” robot.

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 robot can disappear for an afternoon. And the robot? 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 kidnapped 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.