Tech Taboo

There are things you don’t say lightly in a tech company. One of them is this:

“The robots have taken over. I repeat, the robots have taken over. Hide.”

When these words were spoken over the intercom, most programmers on the Software Floor dove underneath their desks, including Lea, the beautiful C++ expert who worked across from me. Not me. I knew this day was coming. Since my very first course on artificial intelligence, I had been preparing for an eventual but unavoidable robot takeover. Luckily, my escape plan was now fully operational.

I reached for the bag at my feet, the one that never left this office. From it, I pulled out what looked like a simple rubber stick, one that spanned no more than two or three feet. At first, some wondered if I had been stricken by a lightning of stupidity, but they were quickly dumbfounded when the extremities of the stick extended into two long, electrified rods. With it, I rose from my chair and headed for the door, like a warrior stepping into battle.

I knew people did not expect this from me, a mid-senior level coder from Baltimore stuck in a robotics company that developed humanoid cooking robots. What a bore, they always said – or thought, at least. He couldn’t even hold a fight with a five-year-old. Such a wimp. Look at his shirt, is it from the seventies? I heard his mother still prepares his lunches on the weekends.

Yes, my mother still prepares my lunches on the weekends. So what, who are they to judge? It’s not my fault, her cooking is THAT good. Nobody makes pasta like her. Anyhow, clearly they were wrong about me being a wimp. I was no longer Steve the Wimp. I was Steve the Robot Slayer. Buffy had nothing on me. Perhaps Lea would even fancy me after my heroic actions. Deep down inside, I was doing this to save her.

I climbed up the staircase at light speed, dashing across the steps faster than they had ever been dashed across. One minute later, and I found myself in front of the Assembly Floor. That’s where they kept the inventory. With one swift move, my rod cut through the door. It collapsed to the ground. On the other side, I found a room filled with inanimate cooking robots. Not a single one of them moved. They were trying to fool me, of course. The sight of Steve the Robot Slayer must have terrified them into stillness. Their strategy could not dupe my sharp reasoning skills. The minute I turned my back, the whole lot of them would attack me viciously with their whisk hands and their built-in microwave ovens. None of this could happen under my watch.

I slayed. I slaughtered. Left and right, my electrified rods went flying, tearing through the robots one by one. They tumbled, one after the other, like fallen soldiers lying defeated on the hallowed ground of a battlefield. I slashed through their can-opening elbows, their kettle noses, their abdomen panini-makers. None of it could escape my wrath. One of them must have been watching the security cameras, as I soon heard a message through the intercom speakers.

“Steve from Software, you are instructed to stand down. I repeat, Steve from Software, stand down now. It was an April Fools’ prank; the robots have not really taken over.”

Of course, that’s what a robot would say. Once again, my sharp reasoning skills outwitted the pathetic attempt at fooling me. After all, no one had the nerve to pull that kind of prank in a tech company. The voice spoke again over the intercom.

“Trust me, someone from Community Engagement is getting fired.”

Another lame attempt at misguiding my brain. Seconds later, all enemies had been destroyed. I then moved to the Engineering Floor, where new prototypes were being developed. This one proved trickier, as these robots possessed additional accessories that could have slipped through the design of my weapon. Thankfully, they adopted the same strategy as the inventory robots and remained perfectly still. My rods struck them down mercilessly. I even had the chance to test out the bolt-strike function, firing an electrical beam from the tip of the rod into a set of cookie-baking humanoids.

Victorious, I headed back down to the Software Floor, where I expected a hero’s welcome. Surprisingly, my return was greeted with more stupefaction than I imagined from my fellow programmers. Lea ran towards me.

“Steve! What have you done? It wasn’t real, they told you. It was a prank, that’s all. Nothing else.”

“Poor Lea,” I replied, cackling. “They fooled you into believing that. Thank goodness I was there to protect you.”

“Protect me? You’re having a massive Quixotic freak-out right now. It was a joke, you’re the fool here.”

It was then that it dawned on me. The truth struck me just like that robot had been stricken by my beam. Lea was a robot too.

“I’m sorry Lea. Things could have been different, if you were human.”

She backed up in fear.

“What do you mean? You don’t seriously think…”

I lifted my stick, ready to strike as she shielded herself with her hands, but my arm froze midway. I couldn’t do this to her, robot or not. She was the love of my life after all, even if she barely spoke to me.

“I’m sorry Lea. I wish it could have worked between us, but destiny chose otherwise. Farewell, my treacherous friend.”

Swift as ever, I ran out. Some battles are just not worth fighting. As I stepped out, the voice spoke again over the intercom.

“I would just like everyone to know that Alex from Community Engagement has been fired. I repeat, Alex has been fired. No lawsuits, please.”

Their final attempt at deception got no reaction from me. The bulk of the enemy had been destroyed. My work here was done. Time had come for Steve the Robot Slayer to retire… until the next takeover, that is.