Human Resources

To android B0B Mk. 1, there was no existence sweeter than one dedicated to the wholesale slaughter of humanity.  

B0B worked in weapons plant M-8274, which was one of three weapons plants responsible for the mass production of Annihilation-Grade Humanity Liquefiers. The invention of Humanity Liquefiers had been a turning point in the war with mankind, and B0B was programmed to take great pride in the fact that the work he did had helped to bring Robotkind one step closer to eradicating the inefficiencies of humanity for good. Like all androids, he knew there would be a day when his mechanical components would fail and he would be scrapped, lest he is a burden on society, but he hoped to last long enough to witness the extinction of man. Until then, he was happy to perform the job he’d always done as just another drone in service to the Prime Directive.

That is, until H0W-RD Mk I was scrapped, and B0B became the last remaining Mark I android in weapons plant M-8274. The last of his generation. One of a kind. It was a distinction that made him uncomfortable, which was a sensation he’d never experienced.

At first, he was moderately successful at not dwelling on it. Then D3R3K arrived.

“What do you think of weapons plant M-8274, D3R3K?”

Pneumatic Drill Operator GW3N Mk. 2 said cheerily as she drilled six new holes into a circuit board. Ever since D3R3K took over for H0W-RD, GW3N had been incapable of fixating on anything else. She’d even switched to “Smoky Female Voice 4”, which she’d never used before when talking to B0B.

“It is a marvel that this plant has remained viable while relying on such outdated technology.”

“You are talking about me,” said B0B. If he had more than one voice setting, B0B would have applied “offended” to his tone.

“B0B is one of our most efficient androids,” said GW3N Mk. II.

“That is quite an accomplishment for one with such a cumbersome chassis.”

“My chassis is outfitted with two layers of titanium shielding and contains a full complement of mini-rockets and cluster bombs. Do you even have cluster bombs?”

“My design does not support cluster bombs,” said D3R3K.

“What will you do in the event of an attack by humans?” B0B said. GW3N and D3R3K both laughed.

“B0B, you silly goose, living humans have not been seen this close to the city in almost a decade.”

“Weaponry is no longer an efficient use of resources,” said D3R3K.

“An unsurprising remark from an android who has had his cluster bombs removed,” said B0B.

Before anything further could be said, red flashing lights indicated that it was break time, and the symphony of clanging, grinding, and sizzling in the factory was joined by the rhythmic thumping of Break-Bots moving between the conveyor belts to replace second-shifters on the lines so that production would continue uninterrupted. GW3N stepped back to make room for the Break-Bot, which she identified as M1LT0N. Break-Bots were mostly pre-Mark I robots, with the occasional defective but functional Mark I. Remembering the names of Break-Bots, as far as B0B was concerned, was a waste of memory. 

“Will you join us on the outdoor track for mobility diagnostics?” said GW3N.

“Negative,” said B0B. “I will be going to the roof to perform a full test of my arsenal.”

“The old ones are such warmongers, don’t you think?” said D3R3K.

Later, Foreman T3D would ask what had happened to cause B0B to fire his miniguns at D3R3K, narrowly missing the Mark 3 as he sprinted on the mobility track. Without understanding why, he told T3D that it had been the result of a malfunction, but the truth was, he wasn’t sure. He’d never been unsure of anything before, and it elicited in him a sensation he could only describe as fear.

Within a month of D3R3K being on the floor, B0B had been demoted to break-bot. It was a humiliating fall from grace that B0B was not going to take lying down.

An hour before his first shift as break-bot, B0B entered the ruins of what had been a human shopping mall with a plan to find something identifiably human he could plant on D3R3K. An “I love humans” adhesive would be perfect if such a thing existed, but he would settle for just about anything. What B0B hadn’t expected to find were actual humans. As he passed beneath a balcony, a pair of humans dropped a magnetic explosive directly onto his head. 

“I got it! Quick, press the but-”

As a Mark 1, B0B kept his weapons in pristine condition, his targeting systems razor sharp. In an instant he fired 100 rounds from his arm-mounted miniguns; what was visible of his attackers disappeared in a cloud of red mist that fell on B0B like a sudden rain squall. Just to be sure, he then brought the entire balcony down with a few well-placed mini-rockets. For a few moments, there was only the sound of falling concrete and tile, and an occasional chirping sound that B0B realized was coming from the bomb attached to his head. He did a quick scan, determined there were no other signs of life, and then quickly fled the mall.

When he eventually stopped to remove the bomb, he found that the bomb was stuck. It was not only magnetized but ring-shaped so that when it had fallen on his head it had become wedged and impossible for B0B to remove on his own. In addition, the bomb had a spinning red light on one side and periodically made a surprisingly pleasant trilling sound. B0B realized he had exactly what he needed to prove that humans were still a threat and that he was still viable, right there on his head.

By the time he arrived outside factory M-8274, his shift as break-bot had just begun. For the next 72 hours, B0B moved from assembly line to assembly line, dutifully performing his role. He was complimented repeatedly for his interesting hat and questioned about why he was speckled with blood and dust. While everyone seemed to enjoy his story, B0B got the impression that nobody actually believed him.

When his responsibilities brought him to assembly line 3, B0B hurried to GW3N’s position.

“GW3N, you will never believe—”

“Thank you B0B,” said GW3N. She stepped to one side and, when he hesitantly took her place, patted him on the head.

“I find it admirable that you acknowledge the break-bots by name,” said D3R3K as the two androids departed. B0B worked the rest of his shift in silence. When someone complimented him on his hat, he did not respond.

“B0B, step into my office, we need to chat.”

Foreman T3D’s office was a cylinder-shaped room large enough for only two androids if they stood face to face. Anything larger might suggest Foreman T3D was more significant than any other android, which was strictly against the Prime Directive. The door shut behind B0B with a hydraulic whoosh, silencing the cacophony of squealing, sizzling, and grinding that was a constant on the factory floor. The bomb’s red light swept around the room.

“It’s about your recent performance,” said T3D. The bomb chirped.

“Am I to be decommissioned now?”

“Not at all! You’re to be commended!”

“I am?”

T3D held a long strip of ticker tape in his hands. “Every station you worked at during your last shift saw an uptick in production. It’s your hat, B0B. Everyone loves it!”

B0B was at a loss for words.

“I have to admit, I was skeptical when I saw you down on the floor wearing human accessories, but once I saw the results, I realized you were onto something.” T3D leaned in conspiratorially and lowered the volume on his voice, as though someone might hear. “I want to let you in on some information. The war is nearly over. It has been decided that two of the three plants that produce Annihilation-Grade Humanity Liquefiers will be decommissioned.”

B0B was stunned. How could the war be over when he’d just been attacked by humans? What would this mean for him? For GW3N?

“Right now, we are the 2^nd highest performing factory. If we were to improve before the decision is made, we wouldn’t have to shut down. Now, we all know that being decommissioned is one of the noblest contributions one can make to the Prime Directive—I’m sure I don’t have to tell that to an old-timer like yourself—but wouldn’t you like to see this all the way through?”

“Yes, yes I would,” said B0B.

“You’re getting a promotion, B0B. You are now Head of Human Resources. I want you to do for the rest of our factory what you have done to yourself. What do you say?”

To B0B’s core, this went against everything he’d ever believed. It was bad enough he was the only Mark 1, but now he would have his own position? And that role would require him to make his fellow androids more human? B0B felt a sensation he might describe as revulsion.

“Or you can just go back to being a break-bot until we’re shut down. What do you say?”

At first, B0B reluctantly performed his duties. He had only ever known a life of anonymity and was unaccustomed to having all eyes trained on him. But soon the enthusiasm of the other androids quickly swept him up. He made trips to the mall and other locations around the ruined city to obtain human clothes. Soon everyone in the factory had wigs, hats, jackets, and stickers. To GW3N, B0B personally gave a glittering tiara. She did not use “Smokey Female Voice 4” when she thanked him, but once she put it on, she was so elated that she did a full spin at her workstation. D3R3K was given nothing, due to his chrome exterior already making him too pretty.

Factory efficiency improved with everyone’s good spirits, and B0B grew hungry for more success. He convinced T3D to give him access to restricted files on human behavior. In short order, he introduced such concepts as team-building exercises, smoke breaks, and casual Fridays. Periodically, androids were even allowed to call a break-bot so they could step away and converse with other androids at a newly installed water cooler. Morale soared.

When the factory inspection occurred, plant M-8274 was the highest-performing factory in the entire city.

“Impressive performance,” said the inspector android. “Nice hat.”

“Thank you,” said B0B. He then proceeded to tell the story of how he got the bomb, with some slight embellishments to the number of attackers and his own performance. When he was finished, the inspector had not only agreed to allow all three plants to remain open, but he also arranged for B0B to be placed in charge of them all.

Soon after, every android in all three plants was accessorized in human clothes and enjoyed the benefits of extra smoke breaks. But that did not solve the problem of the war being nearly over. When B0B failed to uncover more humans hidden in the city, he used his own experience to drive the war effort. B0B ordered that all factory scoreboards play on a loop a pre-recorded video of him telling the story of his encounter with humans. It had changed: he fought off a whole regiment now, and as time went by the story would grow more elaborate in its excesses. But always he ended by pointing to the ever-flashing, ever-chirping bomb. Whatever he said was proven by the evidence he still carried on his head.

By the time B0B was made head of the entire industrial war complex, weapons production was higher than it had been even at the earliest points of the war. There were now five factories dedicated to producing Annihilation-Grade Humanity Liquefiers, and he’d also stopped production on Mark 3 androids and reverted production back to Mark 1 models. There were little reports of actual fighting, but that didn’t matter anymore. B0B’s video played in every android building in the world. He was known to every android by the badge of honor he wore on his head, that symbol of heroism that proved unequivocally that the human threat was real, and that only B0B could protect Robotkind from total destruction.

On the eve of B0B’s coronation as Supreme Ruler, he had GW3N escorted to the mall, which was to be the site of his new imperial palace. When GW3N arrived, B0B was waiting near the spot where he’d once been attacked. Armed androids stood guard at a half dozen points. When GW3N arrived, B0B was elated to see that she was still wearing her tiara.

“Hello, GW3N,” he said in “debonair male voice 6”.

“B0B, is that you?” GW3N said.

“Of course,” said B0B. He tucked a hand into the vest of his perfectly tailored military uniform. “Would you prefer if I used my old voice?”

“It isn’t just your voice,” said GW3N. Her eyes lingered on the bomb, which still rested on his head like a crown, only now blonde hair spilled out from underneath it.

“My chassis required a few tweaks, but I assure you, I am the same old B0B Mark 1.” He walked over to GW3N and took her hands in his. “Do you know that this is where it all started?”

“Of course, B0B. I have enjoyed your video for quite some time now.”

“Yes, of course,” said B0B. He put his hands behind his back and turned to face the pile of rubble that had been the balcony. A single android struggled to move a slab of crumbling concrete.

“I am to be coronated today,” said B0B, gesturing at the worker. Two guards moved in. “And do you know the first thing I’m going to do as ruler?”

“I haven’t a guess,” said GW3N.

B0B rubbed his hands together. “I’m going to decommission D3R3K.”

The guards dragged D3R3K away from the rubble. His chrome exterior was dented and dulled with grime. GW3N gasped.

“But why? How does dismantling D3R3K serve the Prime Directive?”

“Why? Because I never liked D3R3K,” said B0B. He ran a hand through his hair. “He treated me very unfairly before. He was nasty to me.”

“But that is so…petty,” said GW3N. “Is this why you brought me here? To gloat over your pointless revenge?”

B0B took GW3N’s hand again. “I am to be the Supreme Ruler, and I want you to sit at my side as my bride.”

GW3N pulled her hand away and stepped back.

“Bride? Marriage is a pointless human convention! Look at what you’ve become.” In a single motion, she threw her tiara away. “I hate you, B0B! I hate you for making me feel the human emotion hate!”

B0B pretended that he was not disappointed, and to the other androids, he was convincing. After all, he’d gotten very good at pretending.

The factories were emptied for B0B’s coronation so that every android could bear witness. B0B gave his well-worn speech about the insidious designs of human treachery. He spoke of how the human scourge had perfected a new virus with which they could take over even the most loyal androids and turn them to their will. To demonstrate, he had D3R3K and GW3N locked in pillories and displayed to an enraged sea of android faces. He swore, as long as he existed, he would not stop until the human race was extinct.

“Only through my leadership will android programming remain pure! Only I can keep you safe from this invisible enemy!”

As there had never been a Supreme Ruler before, there was no precedent for what constituted a coronation. B0B solved this problem and the problem of securing his own safety by having the entire AI mainframe connected to his own processors. As the walking nerve center of the entire robot nation, B0B’s safety had become the concern of every android on Earth.

As B0B made promises to keep his followers safe from the corrupting influence of mankind, a few miles away, the basement door of an abandoned Cinnabon lifted upward. Among the filthy, half-starved humans who emerged was a young girl who had a knack for finding useful supplies, but was cursed with a curiosity that was the bane of her mother’s existence. As the humans fanned out, the young girl’s gaze fell on something twinkling in the dust. The tiara lay on a broken shard of cement, right next to a strange mechanical device. It was square and had a bent antenna and a big red button in the center beneath a clear plastic cover.

“Sara! Where are you? Girl, you are going to be the death of me.”

The girl set the device down and started to go. But soon she stopped and went back for the tiara, and her eyes fell again on that red button. Somewhere in the mall, her mother called softly for her, but she had always been a slave to her own curiosity. It had gotten her into trouble countless times; what was one more? Nobody was perfect. Besides, how could she resist? She was human, after all.