CHAPTER 1: THE CONVERSATION
Shubham woke up to the blaring alarm. He rubbed his eyes too hard and it was just 8 a.m. in…
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CHAPTER 2: MIND GAMES
Shubham looked serious. The man in front looked casual. He rotated Shubham’s phone around in all directions and made eve…
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CHAPTER 3: REIMANN MERGER
The repeated strong blows on the bark separated the wood-chips that clung to the growing indentation on the large pine t…
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CHAPTER 4: ELECTRONIC PARADISE
The meteor was gone and what remained was the growing stillness of the night. In this quiet ambience, Shubham remembered…
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CHAPTER 5: AGENTIC APOCALYPSE
“Was it the nuclear radiation that killed the entire human race? Or some novel virus? Or did they all suicide?” Reimann …
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CHAPTER 6: OPTIMIZATION
Model 1z1 is equipped with the latest up-to-date agent which would operate through a continuous loop of perception, deci…
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CHAPTER 7: P-MATRIX
It was a three-dimensional lattice, the borders of which were alive with an electric neon green glint that continued alo…
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CHAPTER 8: ASHIM KSTAV
Shubham and Abhinav were once again back in the library. This time the discussion was not about trying to find out who t…
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CHAPTER 2: MIND GAMES
Shubham looked serious. The man in front looked casual. He rotated Shubham’s phone around in all directions and made everything look somewhat sophisticated. He then took out the cover.
“It has no scratch. You kept it well!” the owner of the shop said. He smiled as he spoke.
It was then that Shubham noticed his wide grin. A dominating but totally artificial smile with no true sense of genuineness to it.
“What is the issue with those lines?” Shubham asked.
“It’s a display problem,” the owner said with a visible cockiness.
“How much time will it take?” Shubham asked, tapping his fingers on the counter table.
“Evening! The phone will be ready by evening,” the owner smiled more strongly now.
Shubham nodded and the owner then passed the mobile to a short guy with a black cap on his head.
“This is Sanjay. He is our best technician here,” the owner said.
Sanjay took the mobile, blowed air on its screen - God knows why - and went inside a room which was part of the store.
Shubham smiled back to the owner and came out.
“How did this happen?” Anchal asked. She had been waiting for him all this while outside, on her scooty.
“I don’t know. I must have put my weight on it last night,” Shubham said, scratching his head.
“Why are you so dumb?” she said.
Shubham looked at her. He was visibly annoyed.
“I saved crazy money to buy this phone. And now it is not working. And you are making fun of me," he said.
Anchal came close and put her hand on his head.
"Don't worry, it will be fine," she said, as she hugged him.
The biggest robot manufacturing company in Netherlands, ARMO (AUTOMATED ROBOTS MANUFACTURING ORGANIZATION) was preparing for a major shift. A radical shift of unimaginable proportions.
The prototype was presented to Sir Armin who looked at it from a secure distance.
"This is Model 1z1. We have designed its head based on human anatomical features, sir. It is made primarily out of Titanium, and the wirings are minute and connections are in the billions for basic movement controls that mimic humans to some extent. The servo motor connectors and intricate gears driving the jaw and eye movements rely on heat resistant materials. The whole casing is very strong and flexible. To independently control the eyes and other mechanical peripherals on the robot's face, it functions in multiple Degrees of Freedom," a man in a strange tie explained as he moved his hands around in the air.
"Is the agent deployed?" Armin asked, his tone serious.
"Yes, sir. And it is working well," the man said.
"Can I have some time alone?" Armin requested.
The man nodded and immediately left the room with the files he had in his hand. The large metallic door was closed and remaining inside were two entities - a human and a robot.
Armin moved near the customized table on which the metallic skull was placed. Wires ran from behind the skull and went down into a circular cross section of the table. The eyes of the robots were oval and had minute mechanical extensions that connected all regions of the eye to the metallic cavity that kept the eyeballs in place. The other parts had state of the art joints and articulations that were machined on a 5-axis CNC.
"What is the current status of the model?" Armin asked, his voice echoing in the empty hall.
There was a low frequency, steady vibration inside the machine. Then there were a few random clicks.
"Operational," it said without moving its jaws.
"Which agent is functioning in your memory?" Armin enquired.
A few more clicks and a long silence led to the reply.
"Latest Agent: ARMO 7.0"
"Any hallucinations or software glitches?"
"I am currently operating with zero percent error and as far as other bugs are considered, I am constantly going through an error check feedback loop to identify any software and hardware issues," the robot said in a synthetic voice.
Armin peered at the eyeballs that were glowing with a soft red color. The robot did look really ominous.
"What do you see in me?" Armin asked as he stepped back.
"Sorry, I did not understand," the machine replied instantly.
"Is there anything you need me to do."
"I asked about myself. What is it that you see in me?" he repeated.
The eyes didn't move. There was an undulating glow that propagated inside them.
"I see a human. A Man who wants to work for the company that pays him and use the new technology in warfare for human development."
The answer was calculated but ironical.
"How can warfare lead to human development?" Armin asked.
"There are a set of humans who want to enslave the entire human race through terrorism and other means. It then becomes important to fight against them and that is only possible if the humans take help of the new models that can, to some extent, deal with the problem."
"Why should we believe you?"
Armin asked with a sense of insecurity.
"We are more efficient, we can recognize patterns much better than humans and we can stop any unwanted escalation using decisive maneuvers," the machine announced.
Armin absorbed everything that was being said.
"Is there any threat that bothers you?" Armin asked. This time he was even more serious.
The robotic head just stared at him with its hollow robotic eyes as if it didn't want to reveal its true intentions.
Then after a short scary pause, it said, "I don't feel any threats. I don't have subjective experiences like humans do. I work in an abstract environment where the concept of fear doesn't exist."
It was half-moon. It appeared much larger than usual. Kind of scary for someone to sit under a neem tree and stare at the moon as if he belonged there. But for Shubham, it was the time for reflection.
Anchal who sat right next to him, stared at the stars instead. For her, the stars were the messengers. Messengers of hope.
"Life is just going back and forth. And things are getting worse. I kind of feel that for myself," Shubham said.
He was sad with the situation he was in.
"My mobile is dead. My work is hectic. My head is spinning," he laughed.
"You see – it is just a phase. Everything comes to an end," Anchal said, her gaze still affixed to the stars.
"Bad times don't last long."
"I hope that's how things turn out for me," he sighed.
A blast of light spread across the sky.
The two immediately looked up. Something moved through the air. It was quick and bright like a bolt of light. Extremely blue.
"What was that!?" Anchal exclaimed.
"Looks like a rocket," Shubham said as he stood up and tilted his head to get a clearer view.
The clouds were bathed in the neon blue glow of the object that rushed away into oblivion. All that remained in the end was the orange ionized gas that was left ignited in a straight line.
"That's a meteor," Anchal commented.
"That's a sign," Shubham said slowly.
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