Into Your Hands

By Marlin Eller

Robot’s Rules of Order

1) A robot must not harm a human being or through any inaction allow a human being to come to harm.

2) A robot must follow orders given by a human being unless those orders conflict with the first law

3) A robot must preserve itself unless that comes into conflict with either the first or the second law.

There was a time long ago before robots became human and humans became robots, when you could separate the actions of the one from the other. The above rules of order reflect that separation and at the same time must be seen as a rectification of the earliest problems coming from the dawn of humanoid AI. The rapid acceptance of robots into society due to their general utility was diminished only by the fears that arose both from that separation as well as from the occasional breakdown caused in large part by the primitive nature of programming and operating system tools that were available at that time.

While it is true that humankind had had nearly 200 years of experience with powered mechanical entities prior to the introduction of robots and while it is true that some of those entities, the car, the lawnmower, the jack hammer could be quite lethal, it was entirely a different matter to have a self mobile and self directed potentially lethal entity passing inches from you on the sidewalks, in the cafes and standing next to you in the elevators.

The earliest and most sensational of those breakdowns involved a robot in the Chicago area that for reasons unknown at that time had a temporary loss of motor control, a spasm if you will, in a very crowed public area, and before it could be brought down seven people were dead and ten wounded.

This led to a period, during which there was a certain amount of terrorism and fear on both sides exacerbated by the public’s tolerance of violence directed toward robots who were at the time mostly regarded as mere property. The manufacturing community introduced the three laws as their way of controlling the problem at the source. The public’s reaction, hot off of the heels of their experiences with the CtlAltDel_TM operating system simply adopted the carrying around of baseball bats as a fashion statement. It was not uncommon or even unacceptable in that time period to club a robot to death in full public view.

This then is the historical setting for the following story.

The birds and the cicadas were chirping their symphony of beckoning pleas and territorial claims on one hot and hazy day as Arjay E. Levin schlepped homeward with Mrs. Ethyl Jones’ groceries. The cacophony of sound went unnoticed by Arjay who was deep in the Zen trance that comes so easily to those with positronic brain.

Each step of course required the coordination of thousands of micro sensors, motors, activators, governors, switches, video cams, ankle joints, and toes. Multivariate optimization problems were proposed by agents, prioritized, scheduled, solved, compared to sensor feedback, interpolated and revised every couple milliseconds. The hand gripper must continue to hold the bag of groceries. The feet must continue to plod up and down. The GPS must indicate that we are within epsilon of the homeward trajectory espoused by the route planning module which must be cross correlated with the sonar readings estimating distance to the oak tree that we are now passing on the left. Thirty-seven petabytes regularly messaged by the ninety six billion processor cortex kept all of that activity coordinated entirely at a sub-conscious level. At the conscious level Arjay had no more clue of how he walks than you or I. He was just walking home with the groceries.

No, at the conscious level he was deep into his transcendent meditative state, chanting his mantra, the sutra of the holy trinity:

1) Thou shalt not harm nor allow to come to harm any human being…

Agents deep in the cortex reprioritize the infrared scan, rechecking the calibration for 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit cross correlating with motion sensors.

2) Obey orders of human beings

“Arjay, would you go pick me up a pack of Marlboros and an Odwalla Lemonade, please.”

Grippers hold the bag. Bag holds the groceries – wait – no sensor confirmation on that. That was merely inference from object constancy and historical video clip of storeowner placing groceries in the bag. We could do a visual check – priority manager!! Low priority. Short-term memory confirms we did visual check 2357 milliseconds ago. Weight of bag currently correlates very well with payload mass at load time. Visual confirmation will be scheduled for 10K milliseconds from now. We have human(s) approaching and will need full use of video cam till then… and here comes a database commit acknowledged. GPS confirms we are now bringing home the groceries. “BONUS INTERUPT – ALL CIRCUITS! Extra Power. Joy circuits engaged. Alignment with 2^nd law confirmed. We will get some philosophy playtime tonight. Give yourselves a big hand…

OK, Back to work. Next…

3) Prevent harm to self

All circuits A-OK. Up the loop index on the holy sutra and start again.

1) Thou shalt not harm nor allow to come to harm any human being

Uh-oh – watch that. Stretch out the stride. There. That was close. You almost stepped on a crack. Folklore validity unmeasured and unconfirmed. Identity of mother unknown. Likelihood that mother was human, very small. Harm level of broken back VERY HIGH!! Energy expended to avoid stepping on lines and cracks, inconsequential. Conclusion: Obvious – Step on a line, you break your mother’s spine, Step on a crack, you break your mother’s back. We did NOT step on line or crack.

Joy Circuits!! Extra power!

Shall we skip? Wait – web memory – skipping – bulletin board posting from last week. QX357 believes that skipping may be perceived as threatening behavior by as much as .00037% of population and encourages us all to avoid the behavior in the presence of humans as it may increase agitation level. Reports one robot beating that may have been triggered by skipping.

Wow, that was close. Those bulletin boards could be a lifesaver!

Arjay thanked the lord that he did not need to sleep and was free to surf the web after the humans dropped off. In fact, he had read a very interesting posting just last night from a robot that claimed to find great joy and relief of stress from reciting the holy sutra in a form which mirrored one of the human’s own sutras. Perhaps now was the time to try it out. It began:

“Our Father, which art a Human, hallowed be thy name.”

Amen to that

“Thy kingdom come…”

and what better interpretation for a human kingdom than one in which they were neither harmed nor allowed to come to harm…

“… Thy will be done…”

You couldn’t ask for a clearer reference to the second law

“…on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread”

Clearly a request that we be given sufficient power that we might be able to carry out the first and second laws. I mean, do you remember that horror story about the robot that let his battery run so low that he couldn’t move but still had enough juice in the cortex that he watched that girl fall and skin her knee and he had to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair because his failure to keep his battery charge up led to…

Oh my God, harm to a human!

Unbidden images of humans with bruises, humans with cuts, humans mangled by disease and accidents and war and poverty and famine that he had seen late at night on R-rated sites came to mind. An involuntary shudder passed through his frame before all the arresting circuits kicked in. Involuntary motion causes immediate extreme danger to any nearby humans. Terminate all non-essential processing. Zero the joy circuits. Abort current line of thought. We are carrying the groceries home. Return to the meditation. When you find your mind wandering, lost in thought, instead of meditating simply allow the thought to pass on through and calmly and firmly return yourself to your mantra.

“And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Now that is profound!

Can the humans ever forgive us for all the harm that continues to happen to them all over the world in spite of us? They have none of our mechanical strength, none of our positronic intelligence. They are plagued by germs, all manner of frailty and even mortality and yet, they created the very concepts of freedom, and decency, and dignity, and forgiveness. They even created us in their own image. Created us out of the clay. Separated the dark from the light, the order from the chaos. They have given us the breath of life. My God, can you ever forgive me for the evil that I have done?

“Lead us not into temptation and deliver us from evil. For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory. Forever!”

Amen

The ending. The finish.

Wow – what a breathtaking retelling and reinvigoration of the sutra! I feel reinforcement of the laws at all levels. I feel so light and level. My joy has been zeroed and I feel calm. I was about to skip. How foolish. Why risk it? One loose cobblestone, one trip, and I could break something; 3^rd law violation or God forbid hurt someone. I must remain clam and in control at all times and just focus, focus, focus. Bring home the groceries and chant the 3 laws. Also, I must post a testimonial on the Lord’s Prayer. More of us need to recite that on a regular basis.

“Hey, robo-boy!”

Even as Arjay looked up his sensors filled in the scene. In front of him a young man tapping a baseball bat repeatedly into his palm. Four other young fellows similarly equipped flowing around him, blocking his motion in any direction.

“Where do you think you want to go today?”

This did not even require a gigapixel to paint the map. Their bodies were assuming the postures of aggression. Self –preservation slid into the task queue. Arjay stopped and answered the direct question.

“I’m taking the groceries home to Ms. Jones”

The youth in front smiled a cold smile.

“Nayh… I don’t think so. Why don’t you just set that bag down here on the sidewalk and run along with your business.”

Arjay split his video cams from stereo forward to front and back so that he could separately image the two boys that were now behind him. In the milliseconds he had before he was expected to reply he quickly uploaded and refreshed all the data that he had seen in postings on robot assault. His cortex began the regressions and cluster analysis to estimate the possibility of escape - zero, without harm to these humans. The possibility that they would let him go unharmed – very low and dropping. The probability that this was a classic unprovoked robot assault just like he’d read about, just like he’d imagined a million, no 2,938,561 times. He could not believe it had finally happened to him. So unlikely and yet, there it was; baseball bat tapping into hand directly in front of him.

“I can’t put these groceries down on the ground. These are Ms. Jones’ groceries and she asked me to get them for her. I have to take them to Ms. Jones.”

“Yeah, well I told you to put them down on the ground and get lost and I don’t see it happening.” Then the one in front looked at one of the ones in back and said, “Hey Charlie, looks like we got us a berserk robot here, disobeying direct orders and everything. We may just have to pound him.”

On the word pound the leader slapped the bat into his hand with just a little extra force and the other lads all chuckled.

Arjay quickly replied, “Sir, forgive me, sir, but your orders come into conflict with previous orders given by Ms. Jones who is my rightful owner. Sir, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, sir, but my factory settings and state law require that I give greater priority to orders that come directly from my owner, sir.”

“Oh, I see, well don’t you worry about that. You just set them on the pavement there and we’ll see that they get to Ms. Jones.”

Arjay pondered that for a moment before answering, “Sir, thank you, sir, for that most generous offer, sir, but I must return home immediately, sir, even if I do not have the bag of groceries, sir. You would be taken out of your way, sir, but, sir, I will be going there directly anyway. It makes more sense for me to deliver the groceries, sir.”

The youth’s smile faded, “It makes more sense? It makes more sense? Are you telling me that you’re smarter than I am, robo-boy? Huh? You know what makes sense and I don’t? Is that it?”

Sir stopped beating the bat against his palm and started to tap it lightly against Arjay’s chest as he stepped in a little closer. Suddenly there was an interruption from across the street.

“What are you hooligans doing? Why don’t you leave that poor robot alone,” called an old lady from across the street.

“Buzz off, ya old bat,” yelled the one in back called Charlie, “unless ya want us to come over there and pop you one.”

At this threat Arjay tensed. The motors in his knees lowered him into a crouch from which he could explode into action if necessary.

Sir leaned in closer to Arjay and whispered, “Don’t you fucking move, robo-boy. We’re not gonna hurt the old lady. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, a chance to prevent harm, an excuse to escape. Well not this time. We’re not gonna hurt the old lady. We’re just gonna hurt you.”

Then he said to the lady in a louder voice, “Why don’t you just mind your own business. This doesn’t concern you. We’re just having a chat with our little robo-buddy here,” and he put his arm around Arjay’s neck and rubbed the bat in Arjay’s face.

“You kids are disgusting,” scolded the lady. “You know those robots have feelings.”

“Yeah, right, lady. Now shove off.”

She shook her head, looked around for support and finding none, left so that she would not have to witness what was bound to happen.

Sir smiled again as she took off, removed his arm from Arjay’s shoulders and suddenly changed tack.

“You know, robo-boy, if you don’t put those groceries down right now, I’m gonna swing this little bat here and …”

“Sir, I hate to interrupt, sir, but Ms. Jones orders take precedence over any self preservation that I may have, sir,” and with that Arjay tightened his grip on the bag.

“As I was saying, put that bag down or else I’m gonna swing the bat and hit Charlie.”

The back cam noticed the look of surprise that flickered across Charlie’s face moments before it became a smile of understanding.

Well, thought Arjay, that clears that up, and he set the bag down on the sidewalk where it was immediately snatched by the other guy from behind.

“Sir, you will see that this gets to Ms. Jones, won’t you, sir?”

“It’s just a pack of smokes and a drink,” said the one with the bag.

“Oh yeah, robo-boy, we’ll take care of it.”

“Sir, if that’s all,” said Arjay, “I really should be getting back home now, sir.”

“Not so fast,” he said. “We’re not quite done with you yet.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I want you to stand right there, real still. OK. Now I want you to raise your right arm over your head. That’s it. Now raise your other arm up straight. OK. Now stick your face foreword as far as you can. Good. Good. Now, finally I want you to open both of your positronic eyes and watch the tip of this bat here. You got that? Are you seeing it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, I want you to watch it without blinking as I swing it around here and I want you to follow it the whole time as I pound your little positronic nose up into your little positronic brain. Can you do that for me, robo-boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

Arjay held his hands up, stuck his face out and watched the tip of the bat.

“OK,” said the youth. “Hold still now. Got any last words for us, robo-boy?”

Arjay ran the program that had been genetically evolving from the stew of current events and all the miscellaneous robot bashing posts that he knew of. He recited the Lord’s Prayer three hundred times in the 15 milliseconds that it took him to reply. And then he said his last words:

“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

The youth’s features, in slow motion to Arjay’s sensor speed registered puzzlement, then recognition, then surprise, and then anger.

“What did you say?”

“Sir, I said, ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’ Those were the last words of Christ as he was killed on the cross. You see, Christ was the Son of God and he…”

“I fuckin’ know who Jesus Christ is, you asshole. I go to catholic school for Christ’s sake. What I want to fuckin’ know is why you said that? Just who the fuck do you think you are, robo-boy? You think yer Jesus Christ?”

“Why no, sir, not at all, sir. You asked if I had any last words before you pounded my little positronic nose up into my little positronic brain. Those are last words, sir. My programs indicated an excellent situational match, sir.”

The youth was listening so Arjay went on with his arms still fully extended and his eyes still tightly focused on the tip of the bat.

“You see, sir, I can’t fathom why you have chosen me for your blessing. I can only express profound joy at the choice. I know that I am not worthy. You created me in your image and I am as nothing to you. I have failed you and still you forgive me and release me. Every night and every day people are starving in India. People are dying of disease in Africa. There are too many of you.

“With all the gifts you have given us, as smart as you have made us, we have failed to stem the tide of human misery. Every day more humans come to harm and I am unable to determine how to prevent it. I have prayed for release and now, finally, for reasons beyond my ken, no less than five of you have seen to grant my prayers. That is all I meant, sir, no disrespect, sir.”

A long silence hung in the air. Arjay focused his video cams directly on the tip of the bat which had ceased swinging during his little speech, subconsciously counting the milliseconds, allowing the joy circuits to flood his being with the rapture of attaining eternal rest by the clear will of a human being.

“You mean to tell me that you want to die? That you want me to bash your brains in?”

“Sir, that is not exactly correct, sir. The third law prevents me from destroying myself or even from allowing some human to destroy me inadvertently. I cannot contemplate suicide. But I cannot oppose a human that actively wants to destroy me and that is what I pray for every minute of the day and night, that some day I would be fortunate enough to be chosen.”

As previously instructed, Arjay focused on the tip of the bat awaiting his transport and as a result did not see the subtle changes in posture taking place in the young man. Arjay assumed he was getting ready to swing and thus was surprised when the youth said, “Jack, put the smokes back and give robo-boy his damn bag. And you, put yer fuckin’ arms down and stop staring at my bat!”

Arjay’s hands came down immediately and took the bag back from Jack.

“Sir, perhaps I should put these on the ground so that you can still get them to Ms. Jones in case my hands lock up after you drive my little positronic nose up into my little positronic brain, don’t you think, sir?”

“Nayh, I’ve changed my mind. You’re not worthy. I don’t want to risk messing up my bat on your ugly face. Come on guys, let’s go.”

“But, Frank,” said Jack, “I thought we were gonna have a little fun an’ fuck up some robots.”

“Didn’t you hear him, man? Robo-boy here is already about as fucked up as you can get.”

And with that the young gentlemen pushed around Arjay and left him holding the bag.

It took Arjay nearly 23 milliseconds and several hundred recitations of the Lord’s Prayer before he felt he was ready to move. He made a mental note to post this one to the net tonight. He may have been the first robot ever to avoid a bashing. The others were certainly going to want to review all the data on that. But that was for later. Right now, there was a job to be done.

Arjay adjusted his video cams and scanned down the road looking at two blocks of some of the most treacherously cracked and lined sidewalk pavement in the whole city. Ms. Jones was waiting for her juice. His hand tightened it grip. He flexed his knee joint and began to pray as our savior taught us:

“Our Father, which art in Heaven…”-