Servant

"Isaac, clean up," Greg bellowed, chewing noisily on chicken
gristle.

Isaac reacted immediately to the command, marching into the room to
neatly stack the crockery and remove it with elegant poise. Shortly
afterwards, he returned with a cloth to wipe the table. He wouldn't
have looked out of place serving at a classy restaurant, yet this was
merely a small terraced house in a quiet suburb.

"Isaac, some tea," Greg ordered. "And more milk in it this time."

"Certainly, Sir." Isaac made a note to make some tea, giving a nod of
acknowledgement before returning to the matter of cleaning the table.
Greg began to fidget in irritation.

"Isaac, did I or did I not just tell you to get me some tea? Do you not
bloody listen?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. I assumed that you wanted me to clean up first."

"It's okay, Isaac," Annie piped up in a voice that was soft and
reassuring. Then she turned her attention to Greg. "For goodness sake,
can you not speak politely to Isaac?"
The way he spoke to Isaac wracked her with guilt, doubly so because he
waited on them like a slave. It was "Isaac, do this", "Isaac, get me a
drink," almost incessantly. Quite why they needed him, she didn't know.
She was home most of the day anyway, and at a loose end since he'd
arrived. But then, no-one with any sense argued with Greg.

Greg hoisted himself out of his chair to bark his reply, looming
oppressively towards Annie. Sometimes when he did that, he would hit
her. Sometimes he wouldn't. It kept her guessing. "Annie, he's a damn
robot, for God's sake, not a real person! I paid for him, he's my
bloody robot and I'll talk to him as I please!"

"I know he's not a real person," Annie whined, shrinking back into her
chair, "but it wouldn't hurt you to be civil to him."
She turned to Isaac in defiance. "Isaac, I'll have a cup of tea too, if
you don't mind. And I'll have it just as you made it last time, that
was perfect," she said with a smile.

"Certainly, Annie," Isaac nodded. Annie liked to be addressed by her
name. She had told him that it was friendly, and had instructed him to
do so. "I will bring two cups of tea, with extra milk for Sir."

************

Returning to the kitchen, he made a mental note to carry out Sir's
wishes immediately in future, to avoid confrontation. Whilst the tea
brewed, he neatly arranged two cups on a tray and poured the milk. He'd
had a productive week, learning much about his new owners.
At first, certain matters had been confusing. There were occasions
where Annie would tell him to do something and Greg would tell him to
do something else instead. This was resolved when Greg announced that
he had authority over Annie. She didn't seem to disagree with
that.
Greg was a very angry person and quite demanding, Isaac noted,
recalling the day he'd arrived. He'd stepped off the delivery vehicle
to give his pre-programmed introduction.
"Hello, I am Isaac - Intelligent, Sociable, Adaptable, Autonomous
Cyborg," he had pronounced politely, giving a gentle bow.

"Yeah, whatever," Greg had grunted. "I'm Greg but you can call me Sir,
and you can start by cleaning this house from top to bottom or you're
going back to the factory to be turned into dog food tins."

In contrast, Annie was quiet and courteous. Isaac intrigued her and
when Greg was not present, they had talked often and she had asked many
questions. Isaac decided that she was a kind person, and had asked her
if his observation was correct. That had made her laugh. He had also
made observations about Greg, but Annie suggested he was better off
keeping those to himself.
Still, Isaac had no preference for Annie over Greg. As he stirred the
tea, he noted that he did not have emotions, as they would make him as
unstable as a human being. He was simply to obey both owners and treat
them as equal.
Steadily, he poured the tea without spilling a drop. Then, as he
carried the tray through to the living room, he noted the sound of
raised voices. Annie and Greg's arguments were becoming a frequent, and
often awkward, occurrence.
He hesitated, undecided as to the correct course of action. He was not
supposed to disturb them whilst they were having a private
conversation, but Greg had been particularly insistent about the
tea.
Choosing to proceed, he opened the door and glided into the room as the
row intensified. Neither Greg nor Annie noticed him standing
diligently, waiting for them to finish.

"Don't you bloody tell me what to do, woman!" Greg was yelling. "I
didn't marry you so you could nag me like an old fish-wife!"

"You know what, Greg? I wish you hadn't married me," Annie shrieked.
Isaac noted that she was trembling, though he could not determine
whether it was from fear or anger. "Anyway, I'm going out with Mary and
the girls for the night 'til you calm down. God, you're behaving like a
pig and you're not even drunk this time!"

Greg's face visibly changed colour, flushing red and yellow like an
angry boil. "You'll not be going anywhere, Annie! You think you're
going out to a club with your mates, so you can pick yourself up some
drunken lad for the night? I know what you get up to, you slut!" He
stood up from his chair and squared up to her like he was about to go
ten rounds with a prize fighter, yet Annie was half his size.

"You know that's not true! But even a stinking drunk from the park
would be better than you!" Annie sobbed. She knew she already
'deserved' a beating, so what was the point cowering?
Greg was furious. He stepped forwards and slapped her roughly across
the cheek, raising a weal as large as his palm and knocking her
sideways. Then he seized her skinny arm and thrust her from the room,
ignoring her shrieks of pain at his too-hard grip.
"Get upstairs, or I'll give you a hiding like last time!"

"Help me, Isaac!" Annie begged as Greg hauled her from the room. "Call
the police!"

Isaac followed them out of the room, still gripping the tea tray. Greg
hesitated, unsure, and for a second there was silence as they both
waited for Isaac's judgement.
"I cannot call the police," Isaac replied evenly. "If robots reported
their owners to the police, then the robot manufacturers would not make
sales. It is bad business, Annie."

"See?" taunted Greg with renewed determination. "The Tin Man here isn't
going to save you. So get upstairs now before I sort you out!"

He started up the stairs and Annie set off too, trying to maintain her
distance whilst still appealing frantically to Isaac. "Isaac, stop him!
Please!"

Isaac recognised her fear, but it made no difference to his logical
mind. "I'm sorry, Annie, but I must not physically stop Greg. A robot
that assaulted its owners would no more sell than one that reported
them to the police."
Annie didn't want to hear it. Sealing herself inside her bedroom, she
continued to plead for help, heaving a chest of drawers against the
door whilst leaning against it for fear of what Greg might do. They
screamed at each other for half an hour before he grew bored of
tormenting her.
Isaac remained in the hallway, listening. In human terms, he was
troubled. It was true, he could not physically prevent Greg from
hurting Annie, but he was supposed to assist her. It was surely a
dilemma that he must consider deeply, he decided, as his neural
networks burst into life to search out a solution. He determined that
he would process until he found one, or exhaust all
possibilities.

Greg reappeared on the stairs, striding past the pensive Isaac into the
kitchen to reappear with a beer. That is strange, Isaac thought. He
seemed so determined about wanting tea.

"Sir, I have brought you your tea, with extra milk," Isaac stated
proudly. "Do you wish me to....."

Greg exploded, lashing out to batter the tray and its contents into
Isaac, both cups ricocheting off him to shatter against the wall. Isaac
considered telling Greg that it was fortunate he was waterproof, as his
warranty did not cover deliberate damage, but decided against it.

"Just you get yourself into the kitchen and serve me beer when I want
it, you tin heap of shit. And you can clear this mess up too, you
hear?"

"As you wish, Sir," Isaac replied evenly, nodding his head.

"Oh, and you won't be telling anyone about the little incident just
now, will you?" Greg pointed with his beer bottle. "Or I'll be using a
sledgehammer to remove your thick metal head."

************

Isaac waited until Greg had fallen into a beer-induced stupor in front
of the TV. Then, he withdrew into the darkness of his "cupboard",
Annie's term for the storage unit he used to recharge himself, or when
she and Greg wanted some private time.
He powered himself down, leaving only a trickle of charge for mental
functions. The simple task of serving beer to Greg had left him with
ample calculation time, and he believed he had found a solution to
Annie's problem.
Mulling it over and over in his mind, he could find nothing wrong with
it. Had he thought about something forbidden, such as deliberately
breaking an item that belonged to Greg or Annie, his protective
circuits would have kicked in to erase it.
That meant he had a great deal to do. Despite his potent mind, his
knowledge was sufficient for little more than day-to-day tasks. It
would take many hours to absorb and study the information he needed to
effect his plan.
At the very top of Isaac's artificial brain, a circuit activated,
providing him with a wireless link to the vast array of stored data on
the Internet. That was his greatest strength: the ability to consume
knowledge as rapidly and thirstily as parched earth absorbs summer
rain.....and to adapt from it.
Should anyone have opened Isaac's cupboard at that moment, he would
have seemed inanimate, an eerie science-fiction suit of armour. Yet a
faint humming indicated that inside his aluminium skull there was life,
a writhing swarm of neural signals firing in a complex speed-of-light
dance. He worked at capacity, sucking information at an awesome rate to
stash it away in the abyssal volumes of his mind.
There was much to be done.

************

Isaac waited in his cupboard until Greg's nine a.m. yelling summoned
him. Customarily, Saturday mornings required the provision of breakfast
in bed for his masters.
Whilst lightly buttering the toast, he examined the new, encyclopaedic
knowledge he'd attained from the previous night's work, a decade of
human learning memorised in a single night.
Once he had cross-checked and studied everything, it would only be a
matter of time, of selecting the right moment.

************

Annie seemed to have forgiven Greg after he apologised many times for
his terrible behaviour. He always apologised after they had argued, and
she always forgave him; Isaac did not consider this a productive system
at all, but that only served to intrigue him.
He could hear them laughing together in the bedroom, after he had
served breakfast. Then Annie had left alone for a shopping trip,
leaving Greg to mill around the house. He kept Isaac occupied with
chores for most of the morning, which Isaac was obliged to obey. The
solution would have to wait just a little longer.
At midday, he arranged a sun-lounger on the lawn at Greg's request; his
final task. Stepping into the kitchen to disinfect his hands, he could
see Greg inspecting his belly in the hall mirror.
"Sir, I have completed your list of morning chores. Is there anything
else I can do for you?" He considered that the favourable answer would
be 'no'.

"What?," replied Greg, irritated by the intrusion. "Can't you see I'm
busy, Tin Boy? Do what you want, but just leave me alone."

"Very well, Sir," Isaac replied.
A satisfactory result. Annie would be very pleased when she returned.
Surely Greg would appreciate the results, too.
He began to prepare, scurrying about the kitchen to collect needed
items, then heading to the garage to make ready. It would take perhaps
an hour, by which time Greg should be asleep in the sun. If he was,
then all the better.....

************

It was midday before Isaac finished. If he was to succeed, then he must
work quickly; time was now short. He sidled out of the garage and
around the house to the back garden, stalking soundlessly, yet
innocently, across the lawn.
Greg was indeed curled up on the sun lounger, lazily sleeping in the
warm sunshine. It was simply a case of approaching him unobtrusively,
then placing the mass of cloth rapidly and firmly over his mouth to
cause the least agitation, like so. The anaesthetic took rapid effect.
It was indeed fortunate that Isaac came supplied with an emergency
medical kit.
Isaac had considered his actions very carefully, making sure that he
was not disobeying his programming. He must not cause deliberate harm,
and indeed he wasn't. This was an attempt to help, a situation where
positive outweighed negative.
Neither must he disobey a command, and indeed he hadn't. Greg had been
asleep, and so could not issue one. It was simple logic.
Eyeing his handiwork, Isaac stripped Greg and raised him onto his
outstretched arms, carrying him to the garage. Only this morning, it
had been filthy and unhygienic. An hour's hard work had sorted that
out.
Now, there remained only the one task.....

************

Annie arrived home laden with shopping, struggling through the narrow
hallway.
"Greg, I'm back! Any chance of a hand?"
Silence. She dumped her purchases and slipped off her shoes. Had she
expected any assistance? No, not really. The lazy so-and-so was
probably asleep in front of the TV again.
"Isaac? Can I have some help with the shopping please?"
She wandered into the living room; no sign of either of them.
Frowning, she retraced her steps through the hallway. Where was Greg?
If not in front of the television, then undoubtedly lying in the
garden, Isaac serving him drinks. She stepped outside to see, glad to
be able to enjoy the heat after the bustle of town.
In the middle of the lawn the sun lounger lay, tipped onto its side.
Puzzled, she wandered over and set it straight. Behind it, lying in the
turf, was a tumbler, most of its contents drained away. She frowned
again, feeling uneasy. Perhaps he'd taken off in a hurry? He hadn't
phoned her, but then this was Greg: not the most thoughtful man she
knew. Even so, surely Isaac would have left a message?
She darted back into the house, scurrying between rooms; no message, no
sign of life (or Isaac). Then, standing in the bedroom, she heard a
faint sound: something mechanical, perhaps grinding? It was coming from
downstairs.....from the garage! Perhaps Greg had finally decided to
sort out his damned motorbike, God knows she'd complained about the
mess often enough. Or, more likely, Greg was watching whilst Isaac
repaired it.
Trotting downstairs, she wandered through to the back office and the
door to the garage. The noise intensified as she approached, the
grinding now replaced with scraping.
Gripping the door handle, she forced it open.
"So, is this a secret boys-only activity?" she smiled wryly. Stepping
inside, she took a breath, inhaling a raw, organic smell; something
particularly unpleasant. She gagged on the noxious odour as she failed
to identify its source, her eyes telling her nothing more as they
fought to adjust from the brilliance of summer outside.

Something told her to run, that this was not at all right, but momentum
and an inane, morbid curiosity carried her over the threshold.
Bewildered and afraid she peered into the room, holding her blouse to
her face to prevent her from retching.
In the middle of the garage, on a bed-sheet, knelt Isaac. At first,
Annie couldn't make out what she was looking at, except that Greg was
face down on the floor. Only then did her brain signal a warning at the
dark crimson splashes on the sheet and against the wall, and Greg's
stark nakedness. Her body began to shudder and she let out a gasp of
horror, her trembling hands supporting her against the door
frame.
She struggled to make sense of what she saw, hoping to find a simple
explanation; Perhaps he'd been hurt, and Isaac was attending to
him?
The blood drained from her face and hands even as Greg's trickled
across the garage. Better adjusted to the light now, her eyes picked
out more detail; a gaping wound across Greg's forehead and some pieces
of.....of something gristly and bloody next to him, like blubbery red
slugs.
Then she noticed Isaac, soulless eyes staring at her, piercing
her.

"You are home early, Annie," he began, calmly. "I meant to surprise
you. I am ensuring that Greg will no longer be aggressive."

Annie took a step back in shock, her legs almost giving way beneath
her. Her lips moved to repeat, silently, Isaac's words. "Surprise me?,"
she muttered. "What have you done?" She stumbled backwards, sending a
toolbox crashing to the floor as she scrabbled to escape.

"Annie, wait!" Isaac appealed, but she was gone. "You must let me
explain!" He had to speak to Annie, to clarify, but he mustn't leave
Greg. He must never cause him deliberate harm. No, he would explain to
Annie when it was safe to do so.
He continued to work at the wound with meticulous fingers, preparing it
for closure. Soon, Greg would be safe and there would be no more
fighting. Then Annie would understand.

Precise, unshakeable fingertip movements guided the fragment of removed
skull into place. With concentration sharper than humanly possible, he
began to exquisitely suture the muscle and skin.
As he neared completion, Isaac's acute hearing detected the sound of
stealthy tip-toeing, indicating Annie's return long before she arrived.
It did not bother him; in fact now would be an excellent, and
altogether safer, time to explain.
She appeared in the doorway, face streaming with tears and clasping
something in her hand. Isaac didn't have time to see what it was; he
heard a click and his internal power subsided with a faint hum.
"No, Ann.....ie.....," he began, his voice trailing into staccato
crackling as the power ebbed.
The remote control device Annie had used was provided with each robot
as security in case something catastrophic happened (though that
possibility was never mentioned in the sales pitch). Isaac realised
what she was doing, but too late; he was powerless to reactivate
himself.
As the last dregs of current depleted, his fingers uncurled, releasing
contact with Greg's head wound. Unable to respond, he rocked backwards
until he made contact with the garage wall. Fluid spurted onto the
sheets from Greg's head in rhythm with his heartbeat.
"How could you do this, Isaac" she sobbed, collapsing onto the concrete
floor. "How could you do this to me?"

************

Soon afterwards, the police arrived to recover Greg and remove
Isaac.
Isaac's mind, the only part of him still operative, churned in
calculation. Somebody must activate my power again, or my master will
die, he considered. Can these people not see what they are doing? If
not, then it is not only Greg that requires modification.
He sensed himself being moved, two men carrying him outside to heave
him into a secure van for return to the factory. It pulled away and he
clattered and rolled around in the back like a meat carcass. In the
darkness, his fingers still sticky with blood and cerebral fluid, he
could hear the men in the cab talking.

"God, those things scare me! Why would anyone buy one? Just asking for
trouble, if you want my opinion. Build something that can learn, evolve
like us.....got to be insane.....shouldn't be allowed!"
"Yeah, crazy idea.....we had to shoot one last week. Caught it driving
down the motorway, and they're not supposed to do that. Rumour has it
the damn thing found a way around its programming. Man, that's
frightening, isn't it?"

I am not insane, Isaac reflected, impassively. Humans are insane.
Robots will improve and robots will be dominant, and humans will
appreciate how much better it will be.

It is inevitable.

It is logical.