Walk a Little Straighter Daddy
Spoilers
Somewhere between “Don’t hurt anybody, ever.” and “Help me.” lies the answer of how to belong. But how is an alien robot suppose to find that point?
“The robot is watching me,” John Robinson muttered as he handed a cup of lukewarm coffee to his wife.
“Eh?” she replied as her hand mysteriously came up and hovered right next to the mug, seemingly unguided by her eyes.
John took a moment to smile as he placed the container into the most beautiful hand in the world, nope, in the universe. She pulled the mug under the consol with her and there was the sound of brief sipping before she contorted her arm to place the still half full mug on the consol.
“Can’t I freshen that for you?” John asked.
“Zero waste. Coffee is a luxury now. Got to set a good example.” Maureen said between grunts.
John mouthed along to the words and smiled fondly at the woman who was still upside down in the guts of the ship. He was pretty sure she had superpowers. Echolocation in her fingertips maybe, specifically tuned to find coffee cups. He was pretty sure humans shouldn’t be able to drink upside down either.
“Well then you shouldn’t leave your coffee sitting around,” John scolded her.
“I had an idea about the integration,” Maureen explained, “and there!”
She attempted to wriggle out of the confined space. John offered her his hand and she accepted it with a smile. He might have deliberately put a little too much force into the tug. Or maybe she intended to end up sprawled against his chest, smiling coyly up at him. He definitely intended to lean down a place a quick peck on her forehead.
“What was that about the robot watching you?” She asked as she wiped the grease off her hands, on the thighs of his pants but he wasn’t complaining.
John frowned as he tried to make sense of the odd behavior he had been noting. He tried to frame it in the same language he gave his after action reports.
“He’s been watching, following me,” he said.
“And this is different from how he usually watching everyone how?” Maureen asked.
The question might have sounded flippant, even mocking from anyone else but his wife sounded generally interested. She wanted more details.
“When there are more people in the room he keeps his face focused on me,” John explained. “Even Penny noticed it. When we are alone together he gets close. He was hovering over my shoulder sometimes but I told him to back off and he just watches from a distance now.”
Maureen took a few steps back and leaned against the bulkhead. She nodded thoughtfully. “When are you alone with him?”
“Mostly after Will has gone to sleep,” John explained. “I think that the integration,” he waved at the blue tendrils that showed in the exposed human wiring, “has given the robot the ability to keep watch over Will from anywhere on the ship.”
“That is my assumption too,” Maureen admitted. “I’m still surprised he lets himself get that far from him.”
“Anyway,” John continued, “Sometimes copies how I move. Sometimes he’ll help with whatever chore I’m doing, if I ask him to, but mostly he just, watches me.”
Maureen looked down into her cup and then back up at her husband. He tilted his head to the side.
“You’ve already noticed,” he said softly.
She nodded slowly.
“Yes, I have.”
A small, almost smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.
“You don’t seem too bothered,” John pointed out. “Which means you have a theory.”
“We know he and Will are connected. That he responds to Will’s feeling and urges.” Maureen said.
“Yes, but not so absolutely now since Smith mucked that up,” John replied.
“Yes.” Maureen gave a sigh and glanced up at the ceiling. “When we lost him the second time. After he fought off the other robot do you remember that long EVA you and Don did?”
“Scraping ash off the hull for about fourteen hours?” John said with a grimace. “Pretty hard to forget.”
“Well with you men out there,” Maureen waved towards the ceiling, “and Penny and Judy going over first aid protocols Will and Debbie and I had a chance to really talk.”
“Debbie is a great conversationalist,” John commented.
“Will told me how hard he had struggled with teaching the robot to be a good person,” Maureen’s lips quirked up at the last word. “How first he made the robot promise to not hurt anyone ever, and then told him to fight back against the moth chomper at the signal light. He said that after those mistakes now he is terrified to give him any orders at all. Especially after telling him to walk off a cliff.”
“So what does this have to do with the robot watching me?” John asked when she stopped talking and returned her attention to her coffee.
“We know that even without specific orders the robot learns through observation,” Maureen said softly, her eyes coming up to lock with John’s.
He felt something like anticipatory dread tighten his stomach.
“We know that he still is guided by Will’s desires,” Maureen said, “and impulses, even if they don’t have the absolute hold on him that they once did. We also know that the robot is trying to figure out the same problem that Will is, appropriate use of force. How to balance being a protector with being a member of a community. Or as the real psychologists put it, how to play the metagame.”
“Well good luck to him,” John muttered. “The US military has been trying to figure that one out for centuries.”
Maureen let out a soft laugh and glanced at him in patient exasperation over her coffee mug.
“What?” John finally burst out.
“The robot takes its cues from Will,” Maureen said softly. “How do boys learn how to balance aggression and cooperation?”
“By watching their fathers,” John said easily.
The answer had been drilled into him in long ago premarital counseling, his sacred duty to his offspring. Be the kind of man he wanted his sons to be. Be the kind of man he wanted his daughters to bring home. The words came easily and fell into the tightness in his gut like a lead weight.
“The robot isn’t taking orders from Will anymore,” Maureen summarized after downing the last of her coffee. “He’s making his own decisions, and right now he’s gathering data to inform those decisions. He’s learning, adapting, watching.”
“Watching me,” John said.
Maureen gave him a sympathetic smile and slipped her arm though his.
“For what it’s worth,” she said softly. “I think they’re both going to turn out fine.”
