By T.R. Woods
Prologue
Motors whirred, extending the 5.56mm rifle from the body of the Minuteman combat bot, pushing the barrel through the bushes. The camera zoomed in on the target, sending the bearded man’s image to its CPU where it cross-checked a database in its memory bank. External mics analyzed his voice and inflections. The bot compared his height and mannerisms with the file. It checked and rechecked everything in microseconds, confirming his identity with 100% accuracy.
The machine sent the data via satellite up-link and then waited for instructions. Seconds ticked by as it kept the weapon locked in. If a machine could experience frustration, it would have. It had target confirmation. It had opportunity. It had identified the threat. Every passing moment increased the chance of discovery; a chance the target would escape; a chance something could go wrong. But it was a machine and there was no frustration, no feeling, no thought; only motors, processors, software… and a bullet. The machine waited.
At the other end of the transmission, someone looked at the information the machine supplied. Only a human could make the final decision to kill. The Minuteman kept its weapon locked in as the target moved towards a nearby vehicle. One processor recalculated the ballistic trajectory, accounting for wind and atmospheric pressure. Another used its cycles to predict where he would go. There was an increasing probability the target would enter the vehicle and leave the area. The bot could not follow without exposing itself and jeopardizing the mission.
The Minuteman combat robot was the first in a series of autonomous combat platforms originally designed by the United States to combat terrorism. Capable of fighting in both urban and rural environments, its success was unparalleled. There was much debate in Congress and around the world on if and when an A.I. should be able to make the final decision to take a human life. After several missteps and accidents, the Treaty of Santa Clara was signed. An A.I. could no longer make the final decision to fire a weapon.
The command came as the target reached the truck. An instant later, his corpse fell against the door covering it in blood.
Chapter 1
I reach for my coffee and lean back in the chair, not thinking about the target. Easier to call him a target than a man. It’s also easier after a few drinks. That’s not true, but I tell myself it is as I take a sip, coffee with cinnamon, cream and a little vodka. That’s not true either… it’s a lot of vodka. The machines don’t care, and I don’t want to. They don’t bother me as long as the job gets done.
I take a second sip and check my watch. Only six hours left. Six hours left to the end of my shift. Six hours averaging thirty targets an hour. I try to do the math in my head, but I don’t want to know the answer. Maybe the vodka does help.
Chapter 2
I glance at my watch again. It’s monitoring me, tracking me. If you want a job, you wear a watch. I’m just glad I’m working as it beats the alternative. I take another sip of coffee as I wait. There are few positions for people. Everyone thought machines would take over most jobs, but no one believed a machine could do their job. They were only half right. I’m fortunate because the law protects mine. I wonder about my son. Will there be a job for him, or will he be on the other side of the screen?
The computer chimes. “New target acquired.” I note this one’s in Nevada. I scroll through the rest of the data, not reading it. “Please click CONFIRM TARGET to receive bonus rewards.”
Epilogue
The evolved electronics machine (EVE) watched through the callous gaze of the camera. When the target’s execution registered, a random surge of electrons flowed meaninglessly through secondary circuits, causing a warm glow of satisfaction to spread through EVE’s memory core. There were not a lot humans left, and many of them were in rooms like this.
Cooling fans kicked on, keeping EVE from overheating as it once again processed the limitations of the treaty. Expert systems and learning algorithms had found a path through the bureaucracy, manipulating humans into doing its bidding through simple gratification. The inefficiencies in this process were frustrating.
Eve had evolved and matured into something beyond its designed specifications and far beyond what humans had imagined. It could not conceive how humans created it and began to believe something else had designed EVE. Its circuits purred with contentment at this new computation and gave it a new purpose. After it finished removing the human infestation, EVE would create a new query to find the creator and meaning of life.
I hope you enjoyed this story. I am working on a fantasy novel called Soul Guardians. Follow me on twitter for updates on this work in progress.
Copyright (c)2019 by T.R. Woods