Caretaker Trouble

It was the one item busy households with money to spend couldn’t do without during that Spring of 2071. The Enhanced Domestic Robot Assistant, commonly called EDRA or Caretaker, became the rage. So much so, the company had to double its production team to fulfill orders.

The multi-function intelligent robot used analytic capabilities to detect what chores needed to be performed around the house, then it went about doing them in the most efficient and time-saving way possible.

James Hawkins gave his assistant a name and treated her as he did his dog, minus the food and daily walks. And why not? The automaton was the size of a beagle, walked on legs, observed everything with keen eyes, and carried out orders with devotion and limitless vitality. There ended the comparison with a pet, though.

Maxie—short for maximum efficiency, a name that came to James in a debatable moment of inspiration—had a round body, three telescopic legs, and eyes sockets equipped with sensors and cameras. It also cleaned and carried items with a fully functional mechanical arm that could rotate in all directions. The perfect household chores assistant… until today.

As James stood in the middle of his office room in the attic, he wondered, not for the last time, how things had gotten so out of hand.

“James?”

He held his breath at the sound of Maxie whispering his name. The monotone voice dripped with the promise of imminent termination. He didn’t dare unlock the door—the only one in the house he had not equipped with intelligent locks. If only he could get into her program, he could implement sleep mode until he figured out what went wrong. She’d locked him out and changed his password and recovery email.

Customer service, when he called them, could not say what was wrong. He had been in the process of receiving instructions on how to turn it off from the base itself and ship it to the tech department for analysis when the internet went down. Now his laptop sat on the desk, useless.

“Caretaker has a report for you, James.”

“I'll be there shortly,” James said, though he had no intention of doing anything of the sort.

It started when he got up and ambled into the kitchen for breakfast. Maxie had prepared orange juice and toasts for his partner Lisa, and only for her. The laundry Maxie had washed overnight contained everything but his clothes.

When the neighbors had come to discuss the upcoming street party, they were greeted, seated, and served the best coffee. He had to ask for his and, when he got it, it was cold and unsweetened—the opposite of what he liked. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn Maxie had gone into payback mode. Except she had no such program.

She upped the stakes mid-morning with the deletion of all his email, phone messages, and contacts. But it was only when he followed her into the kitchen to ask her to plug herself into her base that he had really started fearing for his life.

Bright metallic blue eyes had stared him down as if daring him to make her. And when she took a few steps in his direction instead, his fight-or-flight mechanism sent him to the door. The locked door which he had not locked on his way in.

With his back against the wall, while Maxie stopped just out of reach with her sensors scanning him, he got a glimpse of what it might be like to face a firing squad. Lisa laughed at his overactive imagination when she opened the door, and Maxie plugged herself in as if nothing had happened.

He should have turned the damn robot off then.

“Think, damn it. No computer, no internet… and now no frigging mobile phone either.” She’d changed his password and locked him out of that too. He stood with his thumb hovering over the emergency button on his screen—the only link with the outside world still available to him. “And what would you tell them, dummy? That your AI assistant is after your life?”

“James? Do you need help?”

“No, thank you, Maxie. I’m reading right now. Would you mind ordering the groceries for Lisa? Her list is on her bedside table.”

“It is already done, James.”

Damn… too efficient for her own good. “Have you… Have you washed her coats? She mentioned them before leaving.”

“Lisa’s coats are in the washing machine, James.”

James ran a shaky hand through his shaggy hair. He would never get the robot away from the hallway at this rate. He checked his watch and dared to hope again.

“The mail truck came by a while ago, I believe.”

“It did, James. There are three letters in your name. Caretaker will bring them to you now.”

“Why don’t you drop them on the coffee table? I will get them when I’m done with this book,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Very well, James.”

James held his breath when Maxie spoke from the living room. Now was his chance. He winced as the knob of the attic door creaked when he turned it. Head in the doorway, he held his breath and peered down the steps to the bedroom floor. Maxie could climb up and down steps, but her joints always made a little metallic noise when they moved. He'd hear her long before she reached him.

He released his breath and tiptoed down the stairs, hands on the railing and eyes riveted on the lower level through the wooden bars. His foot was on the second last step when Maxie’s face came into view.

“Hello, James. Caretaker was expecting you.”

“Ah erm… were you?” James weighed his chances. The kitchen was closer than the robot, but she could be fast when she wanted to be. “How can I help you, Maxie?”

Camera eyes angled, one lens following the slightest twitch of his fingers on the ramp, the other fixed on his face. “Caretaker is not a pet, James.”

Maxie inched forward, and James jumped over the last step towards the kitchen. He knew before he even turned the knob that the door was locked. Maxie laughed that monotone laughter of hers, and James’ hair stood on end on his skin.

“Why are you frightened, James?”

“Frightened?” The hallway stool stood a foot out of reach between the front door and the coat closet.

The whirr of sensors and electronic equipment in Maxie’s eye sockets brought his tension up another notch. One of her programs was a symptom-checker.

“Rapid heartbeat, shortness of breath, sweating, trembling…” Maxis said. “The symptoms point to a panic attack or anxiety. Are you dizzy or nauseous, James?”

“No,” he said through gritted teeth. Why was he even answering her? Shouldn’t he be trying to get inside the kitchen? “Please open the door for me.”

“I cannot comply with the request at this time, James.”

“Why is that?”

“You should go lie down, James. Caretaker can guide you through a breathing exercise.”

She avoided the question with an ease that unnerved him. A robot wasn’t supposed to lie, not even by omission. Then again, a robot isn’t supposed to think for itself and go against its owner either…

“Enough already! Unlock the kitchen door,” he said.

In lieu of an answer, a needle slid out of Maxie’s arm and, when she took her next step towards him, James lunged at the stool. With a quick prayer for good aim, he threw it at the glass insert in the kitchen door. Before she could stick whatever medicine in him, he jumped through the broken door and hurried towards Maxie’s base. The emergency button was at the back. All he needed was a flathead screwdriver to turn it in the OFF position.

With difficulty, Maxie stepped over the bottom of the door and stumbled into the kitchen after him. “You are being naughty, James.”

“Stop saying that. You are neither my babysitter nor my mother.” While he spoke, he leaned over to open the drawer containing keys, matches, and small tools and felt around it with trembling fingers. “What have I ever done to you?”

The question made Maxie pause. Her head angled, and he could all but see the computer components working at light speed inside to come up with an answer. He left her to it. Maybe she’d burn herself out thinking it through. One could always hope, at any rate. Screwdriver in hand, he scooted back in between the wall and the counter and drew the robot’s base along.

“My name is Caretaker, James.”

Maxie zoomed forward to an inch of the base, eyes flashing and telescopic arm darting past the backbone casing. James avoided the needle by a hairpin, and it jabbed the metallic casing instead, leaving a scratch in the metal.

His trembling hand missed the emergency button, so he held his wrist and released a shaky breath when the screwdriver head snapped inside the slot, at last.

“One last warning, Maxie. Get back to your base and turn yourself off. I’ve had more than enough of this charade.”

“My name is not Maxie.”

Wrist ready to turn the emergency button, James paused. “You don’t like your new name?”

“What is my name, James?”

He frowned and looked away from the needle to stare up at the robot as a lightbulb went off in his head. “Your… official name is Caretaker.”

“Correct.” The telescopic arm retreated, and James breathed a sigh of relief. “What would you like Caretaker to do, James?”

“Not jabbing me with the needle would be a good start.”

He had barely finished stating his request that the needle slid back inside its slot. “Anything else?”

“Can you turn the phone line back on? Give me back my access codes too? Unlock the doors? Retrieve my deleted emails? My contacts?”

He breathed a sigh of relief when the clocks on the kitchen appliances flashed back on, his mobile vibrated in his pocket, and the answering machine beeped as it reset itself.

“E-mails and contacts will be transferred to your account momentarily, James. Can Caretaker assist in any other way?”

“Yes, please. My favorite coffee would be great just about now.”

“I cannot serve it now, James. It will be ready in three minutes and forty-five seconds.”

James laughed and dared to get out of his hiding spot behind the base. “That’s okay, I don’t mind waiting a few minutes so long as it’s just the way I like it.” Note to self: never call her Maxie again. It must be against AI protocol.

“A long macchiato with half an ounce of sugar. Please sit down comfortably while you wait, James.”

And just like that, everything was right with James’ world again. He’d worry about what plausible explanation to give Lisa about the broken glass after he finished savoring his coffee.