Of Protective Robots and their (Un)fortunate Mechanics

Marvelous Potential

The robot was showing marvelous potential. So far it had saved about a dozen pets from burning houses, retrieved two skiers from an avalanche mishap, and had helped to bring in a rather pesky department store thief. Great potential indeed. The only troublesome thing about the machine was that it wouldn't stop kidnapping its mechanic.

The detective in charge of the mechine's team sighed he disliked all forms of AI. Brauge looked up at the large oak tree in front of him, and the hulking robot perched near the top, or rather as close to the top as its processors told it the tree could support its weight. Sitting squished between the machine's body and one of its jointed arms sat a boy, as the detective could tell by the skinny legs poking out from underneath the arm and the muttering that was audible even from this distance.

Poor Isaac. The detective thought, He must be afraid of heights. Brauge cleared his throat:

"Errr..." He paused, unsure how to best adress this situation, "Tin can?" he yelled up, "Could you give us young Mr. Isaac back please? It's getting dark..."—

The machine cut him off with a clearly irritated click and a series of beeps sounding not dissimilar to a fire alarm put in a blender. It fixed its lens on him and shifted the boy possessively behind it. The detective caught a glimpse of Isaac clinging desperately to the robot's giant arm before it positioned itself so that Isaac was completely out of sight.

Brauge internally cursed. He wasn't payed enough to deal with the tin can on a regular basis, and the last time it had determined something was a threat to Isaac, it had taken several hours to get it out of the cave it had holed up in after completing a rescue mission.

"It's not like he's going anywhere, you worthless rust bucket, he still has to run your daily diagnostic!" he yelled up, rather more in spite than in actual hope that the machine would see reason and come down. As expected, the machine only clicked at him, not budging until a different voice spoke up, trembling slightly and sounding a bit frazzled.

"Siv, there's no danger, really, I'm all right. You know the detective, he's not a threat," Isaac paused as the robot clicked, and if robots could sound unconvinced, this one did, "It's okay," he soothed, obviously trying to avoid looking down.

"You can take me down now?" He finished, the end of his order curving up as if he were begging the robot rather than ordering it.

Detective Brauge lit his cigarette. Damn it, Isaac, why did you have to name it? He rolled his eyes. The damn tin can already had an extremely strong attachment to the boy that even his own mother couldn't explain, which said a lot since she'd designed and programmed the damn thing in the first place.

The detective watched in relative awe as Isaac slowly coaxed the machine down from the tree, though it refused to let go of him, instead, Isaac resigned himself to being carried. The detective noted with amusement that the fifteen-year old was dwarfed by the robot's arms, looking rather like a toddler as he sat on one of the machine's arms, two others snaking in front of him to make sure he didn't fall. It clicked at him distrustfully all the way back to the transport van, where it was forced to release Isaac so he could ride shotgun back to the station.
Isaac was quiet for a while on the ride back.

"Why do you think Siv does that?" he asked finally, turning to the detective.

"I dunno." He answered truthfully, not even wanting to imagine what was going on in that metal beast's brain... or processors... whatever it was.

"I wonder if it's a factor of the survival software that malfunctioned." Isaac mused aloud, "It would make sense, since I'm the only one who can repair Siv, it's protective of me."

The detective shrugged. Isaac and his mother were the only ones who even had an inkling of the potential of the machine. Isaac's mother, the esteemed programmer Dr. Nylo, had designed and programmed the electronic brain that rested in the tin can's bowels and her son Isaac had built its body from scratch, and knew the ins and outs of it better than anyone else. The detective had even heard rumors that the software was a prototype version of the ROVER intelligence that had been loosed in Europe, though he wasn't one to believe rumors. But if that was the case...

The detective shook his head, clearing his thoughts.

"You and your mother are probably the only ones who could know for sure, kid." He said finally, 

"Speaking of, has the good doctor Nylo any theories on that?"

"Not that she's told me," Isaac said, eyebrows drawn together, "But I have a feeling she knows."

The detective laughed, startling Isaac.

"What's so funny, Agent Brauge?"

"Nothing," Brauge said, giving the kid a reassuring smile, "I'm sure she's just stressed with the next OS she's working on."

"If you say so," Isaac sighed. "It's still curious that Siv is so attuned to danger when I'm involved."

Detective Brauge said nothing. There was only one other machine that did what Siv had started to do, and if the tin can had anything in common with ROVER, then "kidnapping" Isaac was only the tip of the iceberg with this thing.

Oh Dr. Nylo, I hope you know what you've gotten your son into, he thought darkly.