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Warning: Power reserves at two percent. Shutdown imminent.

Bezel shut down his radiation and chemical sensors as the data came through. “The air is breathable. Radiation low. What does it look like?”

He heard her footsteps crunch. “It’s all snow. But it’s supposed to be, right?”

“Yes. There is an airport nearby. The vault kept several vehicles there.”

“I’ll find them.”

He could hear the ocean.

“I don’t see any plants, or anything moving,” she said, and he could hear sadness in her voice.

“We’re in the arctic. Not much would be here, even at the best of times.”

“But what if there’s nothing, Bezel? What if I’m all that’s living anywhere?”

“Do you have your seeds?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then reincarnate it. Reboot it all.”

Warning: Power reserves at one percent. Shutdown imminent.

He fell into the snow. She pushed him up against the wall of the vault and pressed her hand against his. As the snow blew past, it slid over his metal with little tings, like tiny grains of sand. The ocean was a hollow rumble nearby.

“Can you hear me, Bezel?”

He sent out a ping, but she couldn’t hear it. His voice no longer worked. He wanted to tell her she would be all right. He wanted to hack the program and lie to her. Lie to himself about what would happen to her. But then she was the one speaking.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blamed you for opening my pod. I shouldn’t have asked you to undo it. I’m glad I got to see the world again, even if it’s just to say goodbye. Thank you for waking me up. Thank you for letting me choose.” She was silent again for a moment. Then he heard her breath quicken. “Bezel, wake up. I see something flapping. Bezel! Turn on your sensors. It’s a bird! It’s alive, can you see it?” She let go of his hand. He heard a series of barking squawks.

Lagopus lagopus. The willow ptarmigan.

Shutdown imminent. Data loss expected.

Public Class frmForceshutdown

Private Sub Shutdown

System.Diagnostics.Process.Start("forceshutdown", "-s -t 00")

End Sub

Private Sub Exit

End

End Sub

End Class

A Word from Deirdre Gould

We’ve been telling stories about automatons since before Homer’s time. Stories about “robots” cross both cultural and historical boundaries and can be found all over the world. From living statues of metal or clay to futuristic androids, it seems we have a fascination with the power to create life and the dangers and responsibilities that come with that power. Robots have occupied almost every role available in our literature. We’ve battled them, enslaved them (or been enslaved by them), been rescued by them, fallen in love with them—even cared for them like children.

Most of the time, though, when I think of robots, it’s as a foil for human characters in the stories I enjoy. They are perfect—the end of evolution. Stronger, faster, smarter, better. Even when they’re evil, robots are portrayed as perfectly evil. If they are to be defeated, it is their very perfection and inability to grow that makes the human character in the story triumph. And if they are good, the robot is still not quite good enough, because they are rigidly confined to their programming and lack the human adaptability needed to succeed.

But part of the definition of true artificial intelligence is being able to learn and adapt to exterior circumstances. Sure, maybe AIs in the future will be gifted with bodies that are strong and durable and don’t deteriorate. But they won’t be perfect. They’ll have to learn how to deal with all the complexity and confusion that we already face, and they’ll be expected to learn it faster than we do. How will the world look to someone that expects to be immortal? How will our society look to them? Will they learn to lie? Will they pity us or envy us? Will they love us?

Will we let them?

A Note to Readers

Thank you so much for reading The Robot Chronicles. If you enjoyed these stories, please keep an eye out for other titles in the Future Chronicles collection, a series of short story anthologies in speculative and science fiction.

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No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without the proper written permission of the appropriate copyright owner listed below, unless such copying is expressly permitted by federal and international copyright law. Permission must be obtained from the individual copyright owners as identified herein.

The stories in this book are fiction. Any resemblance to any sentient being, including those biological, mechanical, and artificial; or to any place or event, real or imagined; or to any enslaver of humanity, whether benevolent, evil, or indifferently benign—is purely coincidental.