Sci-Fi Short Story I

The only sounds in the lab were my typing and the soft hum of the computer fans. Everyone else had seemingly left the lab about an hour ago, but I wanted to perform one boot-up sequence before I turned in for the day. The lab I was in was barren save for the supercomputer lining the back walls, my desk with my laptop, me, and the robot on the floor in front of me. We hated referring to it as 'the robot', especially as we built more authentic looking features, so we began referring to it as the Sentient Autonomous Machine. I just call her SAM.

SAM has been my life's work for about 3 years now. With drones becoming more commonplace technology, the department of defense has a need for a more inconspicuous intelligence gathering machine. We can design SAM to look like whoever we need at the click of a button using a new nanotechnology "skin" that shifts to look like an uploaded image of a person. All the technology companies were currently obsessed with the typical woman-looking AI that can do interviews on live television. So, we modeled SAM similarly, giving her medium-length blonde hair made with over 10,000 special fiber optics, brown glass eyes, and a long nose. At full height, she stood at the national average of 5'5". We put her in a t-shirt and jeans that we scrummaged from our local GoodWill. I think it makes her look more normal. The only giveaway in SAM's appearance is a soft glow from behind her eyes and inside of her mouth.

Tomorrow, some DoD sponsors are coming by to check my team's progress. If I can show them how far we've come in the past year, we'll secure much more funding for next year. When we showed them photos and videos of SAM's updated appearance, they were blown away. If we could keep this a secret long enough, we would have a huge advantage over competitors.

I typed in the SAM boot up command and leaned back in my chair as the chain of processes began. The supercomputer whirred as it began working. I tucked my hands into my jacket pocket as SAM's fingers and toes began flexing from thumb to pinky. The lab is always kept at a cool 58 degrees to prevent the supercomputer from overheating. I usually did most of my work in the office above the lab for that reason alone. I hate being cold.

I started as the lab door to my left flung open.

"Sorry, I thought everyone had already left," my coworker Brett said as he strolled in, his laptop bag tucked under his arm.

I waved it off and returned my focus to SAM as her eyes began blinking, her "pupils" shifting manually to adjust to the dim lighting. "So did I. I'm just running a quick test before I head home," I called out to Brett, not taking my eyes off of the progress monitor.

I felt Brett come up behind my chair and watch as SAM straightened into a sitting position, her legs straight out in front of her. The boot up was successful. Same as yesterday, and the day before that. You can never be too sure when it came to technology. It always tends to misfire the moment you need it the most. Even as a computer scientist, I was not exempt from that rule. I was perhaps, especially a victim of mistakes.

"See? Same as always. You'll go crazy spending so much time down here," Brett chuckled. He had been one of the lead engineers. While I gave SAM instructions, he created a body for her to enact those instructions. We collaborated the most between our two teams to make sure we were working in sync with each other. We have spent many a night in this freezing lab trying to get a measly wave or blink out of SAM. He circled around SAM, admiring as she turned her torso to track him. It was a bit unsettling the first few times we tested movement, but SAM always did exactly what we programmed her to do. Brett returned to my left side and SAM's gaze settled between us.

"You know I always have to be certain. I'm going to test a few voice prompts," I shrugged and turned to SAM. "SAM, please stand," I commanded clearly.

She blinked once more, then slowly bent her knees and placed her palms on the floor. She pushed the ground away and stood stock straight. It wasn't necessarily graceful or human, but we weren't at that point yet. One of our goals for next year was to train her to incorporate human imperfections into her movement. It's a difficult process because it is less efficient energy-wise, but it makes her a more realistic-looking spy.

"Hi, SAM. How are you?" I asked, prompting another pre-set response. She blinked again, slowly registering the question, She opened her mouth, then closed it.

"Hmmm, that's not it," I hummed. It seemed like she was about to answer and then stopped. I wondered if the process had been interrupted, but looking at the progress it read "action completed". I leaned close to the computer, reading the live log. Nothing strange. SAM's eyes remained on me, waiting for the next prompt.

"Hi, SAM. How are you?" I repeated. I felt Brett stir behind me, shifting on his feet. SAM snapped her attention to him. She blinked slowly. Her gaze met mine again and she opened her mouth slowly.

"You are in danger, Lexi."

My pulse quickened. That wasn't her pre-set response. She should have said, "I am well. How are you, Lexi?" I checked the log again. Action complete. Learned behavior override. Strange. As an AI, we allow SAM to make changes to her preset instructions if she deems it appropriate based on learned behavior. She seems to think I am in danger in some way.

"Have you ever seen her do this before, Brett?" I shot over my shoulder. I heard him unzip his laptop bag.

"No, this is really strange," he said absently, fumbling around in his bag.

"Maybe I should reboot her," I said, slowly turning around. SAM jerked from her position, joints squeaking as she ran to come between me and Brett who was now holding one of his hammers from his toolkit. Brett jerked back from her, stunned by this unscripted response. My brain felt like it was piecing together everything in slow motion. My heartbeat was racing and I felt as though I was glued to my chair.

"Stop," SAM commanded, her arms outstretched at her sides, blocking me from his view. As if SAM's voice shook him from his shock, he surged forward trying to dodge her and move directly toward me. She grabbed his arm and tugged him back before he had nearly reached me. SAM's grip was so tight on Brett's arm, his knuckles were turning white and he grunted in pain. SAM looked at me again.

"Go retrieve authorities," she commanded me in a calm voice. Brett tried twisting free, flailing wildly in her grip, but she was much stronger. He pulled back the hammer in his other hand and hit SAM's wrist. All of her joints had to be extremely flexible and seamless, making them weak points. SAM's wrist bent at a weird angle. He would destroy her arm and break free. This thought drove me up to my feet and sprint out the lab door. I ran up the steps to the offices to find my cell phone where I left it in the cabinet under my desk. I frantically dialed 911, my fingers trembling. I couldn't hear anything beyond the blood rushing in my ears. I began jogging around the maze of cubicles and out the front door as the operator finally picked up.

"Please help my coworker is trying to kill me."