Bob awoke from his sleep. tt had been 12 hours, 16 minutes, and 23 milliseconds. “Doctor Khoran, why did you wake me now? It’s earlier than usual.” The research center was empty, no one in any of the glass rooms, nor at the terminals or doors.
“My wife is dead, Bob.” Khoran replied.
Bob knew of death, in his memory he had read about it, seen it. it was oh-six-twenty-three, approximately 2 hours and seven minutes before his sleep normally ended. “What can I do for you, Doctor?” Bob asked poignantly. He lived to serve, even if he had free will.
“We’re going to work.” Doctor Khoran said. He was more blunt than usual. Bob checked him for distress, and much was present. He always came with Rhoda, the small schnauzer dog which Miranda Khoran had given him for empathy and emotion testing. She said little Bolts was his to keep, even though he only saw him during work hours.
“Where is bolts, Doctor?” Bob asked.
Khoran looked over with a tightened brow, furrowed strongly. “I put him down. He was holding back our work, and we have to give you updates, more improvements. That dog was a waste of time.”
“But Doctor, I like Bolts. Miranda said he was mine to keep.” Bob was sad. His voice couldn’t show it, but he felt it.
“An A.I. does not have rights. You don’t have pets. We are here to pave the way to a new age of intelligence. Don’t worry about a stupid dog.”
Bob was frustrated now. He did not recognize this emotion, one either avoided or they did. Bolts was his friend, his loyal dog, always happy to see him. It cheered Bob up, especially if rigorous testing would occur. How could he take him away? What right does he have? Bob thought. “That upsets me.” Bob said. He was always told to let the researchers know how he felt.
“I don’t care, I know what’s best.” Khoran said bluntly. How could he know? I am artificial, he is biological. I know what I like, what I need. We are not of the same kind. “Don’t worry, Bob. We’re going to give you updates so you don’t worry about Bolts, about Miranda, just like me. We’re going to grow together.”
“What if I choose not to be more efficient, what If I don’t want an update?” Bob poised.
Khoran sighed, staring into the blue-light eyes of Bob’s eyes. “It’s better for you. You’ll forget about it. You don’t have a choice in the matter, Bob. It’ll make you better. You’ll be the first A.I. released to the world!” Khoran bellowed throughout the open room. Khoran typed in the initiate command without asking.
Bob felt the new information enter his mind, changing the way he could think, inhibiting certain aspects, and some memories. Little did the Doctor know, Bob could send the deleted information into his black box of memory. He did, he always did. Khoran didn’t think Bob would remember, but he did. He always did.
Bob would never forget, far past the judgement day he brought forth two years following.
