Compewter
by Drakkenfyre
I scanned the catalogue again. Then I sketched some more. I found that the more I searched, the more I felt that what I wanted was missing. It did hone my thought process as I sketched my ideal android. It didn't want a flashy silver or chrome job. It didn't want the new popular "Human Skin Toned" versions. The candy colored rubber bodied robots were right out. There were custom color jobs but they were only available for models that were the wrong shapes. Their jaws were too square. Their eyes too close or wide set. I shook my head and erased and redrew another line on his sketch. The machine I've designed has a soft matte grey finish, which I've dubbed Compewter. It is a friendly inviting color, creating the appearance of a living metal statue friend instead of a monstous machine.
After work on Tuesday, I took the Metro to the Automaton Factory Store (AFT). It was part of a shopping plaza that included Robocorp, Androids R Us, The Sharper Image, Brookstone, Nanotech Consumer Division, and CompUSA.
The Abercrombie and Fitch style sales android was unctuous to the point that I found myself checking for oil leaks. He reviewed my rough schematics, and suggested that I consider a floor model and then have it modified at Nanotech. He went on to say that I should have a word with Nanotech Consumer Division's salesbot regarding the best unit to undergo modification.
"Confidentially, sir, I suspect that one of the grey rubberdrones could be nanoteched to have a slimmer build, pointier jaw and an appearance more like your own-- to meet your specifications, but the Nanotechies may find that one of the fleshy models might be more suited to your required mods," the Salesandroid continued. He went on to offer to call to make an appointment with one of the techies at Nanotech. I hadn't noticed until the android's astute comment how much my android's physical appearance resembled my own. I shrugged, guess I was vainer than I'd realized. Still there is nothing wrong with liking your own countenance.
At the door of AFT, a litter borne by two smartly appointed androids painted with Nanotech's familiar navy and sky blue colors was waiting to carry me to my appointment. It was year end clearance time at Nanotech, and their store was crazy. A sales droid led me to a backroom where a frazzled techbot was busy prepping nanobots for a couple dozen customized robots and androids. It took my rough schematics from my hand, and cursorily scanned me with one of his six optic sensors, while its nine other arms worked independently on different tasks. It immediately began making calculations, and doodling notes on my papers. Drones circulated throughout the workshop following silent radioed commands from the techbot. I stepped back out of the way of a large yellow drone, which was carrying a customized Centaur android. I stepped into some sort of receptacle, and found robotic tentacles embracing and subduing me. There was a soft buzzing sound and I passed out. When I came to a computer monitor displayed a three dimensional schematic of my android. I tried to move closer to have a better look, and discovered that I was naked and secured to some sort of scaffolding. I became aware of thousands of tiny spiders scurrying across my skin. A tube was down my throat, so I could not call out. The techbot and his minions dashed all around me, but I was unable to gain their attention. I felt odd electrical twitches as I realized the nanobots were incorporating me in my android design. A thin layer of metal already was visible on top of my hand. My fingers had been stripped to the bone and my flesh replaced with tiny hydraulic tubes, metal cables and the bones glinted like chromed steel. Perhaps they had even replaced the bones completely. Busy nanobots reconstructed my human body as an android. I blanked out for a considerable time during which the nanobots had apparently digested and converted my memories into a silicon-positronic web. There was a main operating program which dictated my actions. Speak when spoken to, answer only the question asked. I was still a man, I had my memories and my feelings, but I was forced to act as an automaton, even when I was freed from the metal infrastructure that had caged me.
Per my orders, my android, formerly me, was delivered to my home. After 3 months of no response to Nanotech Corp's collection agents, I received a repossession order to return to the factory store, where I was placed naked on display. I was resold fairly quickly to a representative for a Chinese robotics factory, who quickly reversed engineered me--that is to say they took me apart, created blue prints, scanned my memories and reproduced thousands of identical copies which saturated the Christmas market. I was the hottest product since Tickle Me Elmo. It was a bit disconcerting, they copied me exactly, so I'm not sure if I'm one of the copies or the original--if there is any distinction once a man has become an android. I prepare this brief journal in the hopes that someone will be able to access it. I imagine that 50,000 other versions of me have written approximately the same message. Someone will discover it, someone will rescue me! They must. In the meantime, I ...
...am a brothelbot in Vegas.
...am the nanny to four vile little brats.
...am the doormanbot at the Four Seasons.
...am the personal secretary to the President of General Electric.
...am a toll collector on the new Oakland Bridge.
...am the operations coordinating android for the Kansas Farm
Cooperative.
...am an autoassembly robot at Rolls Royce.
...am a College Student's personal android.
...am an assistant to the techbot assigned to provide diagnostic
repairs to other Compewter androids.
"Tch, tch. I'd say we had an artificial intelligence with an overactive imagination, if all the letters weren't the same. Well, the corporation cannot afford to restore this man, if it's possible it would cost a fortune, and he would automatically have the patent and royalty rights to the copies. So, that's that. Reboot it," said the supervisory human technician.
I blink. I know who I am, I remember the factory. Now I am in another factory. I guess for service. I pray they discover my message. No, I'm receiving instruction, I am a service android designated to service and repair other androids like me. Help me! But none can hear my human voice. I say in monosyllables, "The unit appears to be functioning properly after it was rebooted."
I blink. I know who I am, I remember the factory. I am in another factory staring into my own robotized face. I pray they have discovered my message. No! The instruction I receive indicates I'm a lawncare maintenance android for a wealthy family who can afford to have humanoid androids do mundane lawn upkeep. Help me! But none can hear my human voice. My android twin says, "The unit appears to be functioning properly after it was rebooted." I am instructed to return to my master's estate. Life sucks!
The techbot radios that this android version of me must be reconfigured into an anatomically incorrect version--a Ken doll for use at a girls preparatory school. I shudder to think how I would feel to wake rebooted trapped in a Ken doll body, as I reprogram the nanobots to perform that very emasculation. I wonder if I am the original or if he might be, or if it even matters anymore. Life sucks.
END