The elevator slid open and Yul gazed into a spacious hall full of robotic exhibits.
“The Cybernetics Museum,” declared Mathias proudly. “Some of our earliest models are here.” Mathias spread an arm. “The A3-Remnot, for example”. He motioned to a knee-high white cube with rounded edges that rolled on small wheels. Three green lights glowed on its frontal turret which could have been eyes, but were most likely sensors.
Mathias’s conceited smirk irritated Yul for reasons that were evident. The industrialist continued to look affectionately upon the bot, as if it were a favourite pet of his.
“A household pick. The model could vacuum, dust, answer the door. Rudimentary intelligence permeated its thinking matrix and limited voice modulation, with voice recognition systems that kept it as a faddish impulse buy, but otherwise serviceable. Over here, we have the Bizbell M9.”
Yul stared at a larger, more human-like shape, with legs for walking. Mathias hit a switch on the command post and the synthetic quivered to life, jerked over with its head bobbing like a parrot, its neck swivelling.
“We expanded our reach to sell a whole line of these. They could take the roles of business people, valets, chauffeurs, you name it. They can cook, clean, answer portable devices, serve as general servants, factotums, or consorts.
Yul saw a whole series of them in ranked rows, looking starkly identical: grey-black, elasti-plast steel and porcelain with gaping eye sockets, o’s for mouth holes fixed in an expression of surprised elation. “Colour, height and sex are modifiable,” Mathias added with a smug grin, glimpsing Yul’s critical look. “Why don’t we step back over here?”
“Why not?” Yul muttered sardonically. He yearned to get his mechanical fingers around Mathias’s neck and squeeze the life out of him. He leaned forward, but Goss, reading his intent, took a step forward. “Back off.”
“Those are more advanced models, though still quite antiquated,” remarked Mathias, “if not obsolete as little as a generation ago.”
Yul saw a more intriguing series of synthetics standing by the wall that wore clothes and looked more human-like than any thus far.
One of them approached with jerky steps. “Can I take your coat, sir?”
Yul stiffened, unimpressed. The machine stepped back.
“Quaint,” Yul grunted.
Mathias gave a dry chuckle. “That one’s a bit overzealous. We have advanced quite a ways to produce models like Goss here.”
Mathias took them down an elevator to a lower floor. They entered a large lab, Yul simmering with hostility. Goss trailed behind, his fingers brushing at the trigger of his blaster, owner of an anxious frown.
The noise of machine parts and computer sounds greeted them, mixed with a babel of voices. Yul glared at the many shifty-eyed technicians garbed in their white lab coats. Others monitored tall, multi-dialed instruments while some bent over crowded tables working on artificial limbs, not dissimilar to his own. A few tinkered with unusual, if not weird hybrids of limbs and appendages, many of which defied Yul’s understanding.
Scientists, engineers, technicians, all wore protective glassware and soldered wires, or welded machine parts. More of them milled about, figures with dark eyes and serious looks: social misfits, Yul guessed, by the look of their bird-like movements. He did not doubt they were mechanical and electrical geniuses.
A man with wispy, straw-coloured hair controlled a shin-high spider-like thing with a remote device. Several consoles and monitors ranged on his desk, flashing wire-frame diagrams of force fields and impetus vectors as the mechnobot moved. The bot jumped up the wall, trained laser eyes on a dark form, a blot or target which smoked and fell on the tiles in a smoking heap.
Was it a prototype weapon? Yul blinked in amazement.
Mathias turned back to the spider, now chasing a similar mechanical beetle-like shape along the floor. “Charming. An experimental model only, created for my own amusement. I know the military have much more deadly mechanisms than this, but perhaps with some innovations of my own, it will be a precursor to a future weapon.”
The man in the lab coat laughed. “Dream on, Mathias. It was my idea, and a dumb one at that.”
Mathias motioned. “Dezmin here, is our most prolific engineer. He has a fecund imagination beyond my own. Currently he is ranked highest on the payroll. This is his other ‘brainchild’ or was Hresh’s before he ran off, which I specifically wanted to show you.” Mathias led him along to a long steel table on which rested a glass case, connected with many wires and panels hooked to a central computer. “Perhaps you would care to look?”
Yul stumped forward. Behind the glass, he saw none other than the pod Goss had snatched from his suit.
“A sight perhaps to encourage you on your upcoming mission and ferret out Hresh.”
“It’s just one of those wretched pods,” grunted Yul.
“It’s much more than that.”
Yul glowered.
“Any progress so far, Dez? I see you’re picking up where Hresh left off.”
The engineer shrugged. “The pod shows unusual signs of integration. But sees us as no hostile threat. I’m reluctant to prod it further.”
“Good. Exercise caution, Dezmin. I trust you have a sure-fire method in mind with our only sample at stake. We will return to gather more when the heat is off Xeses.”
Dez nodded. “We may need more samples, sir. My experiments will run roughshod pretty soon.” With protective gloves, the engineer and one of his assistants transported the pod to a smaller glass case and hooked it up with wires and attempted to stimulate it to action with electric shock.
Mathias intoned, “My hope is that we can backengineer a large enough neural net mimicking the alien intelligence’s behaviour which may help us design better robots in the future. Dez, our senior analyst, is confident. Any movement on that, Dez?”
The engineer beamed. “We currently have two streams of innovation in motion: one by
