“A bonfire tonight, please,” the robots asked. They recalled a story I had told them about my youth and bonfires and jumping through the flames. After a while the fire had gotten a good start and was sending whole galaxies of sparks into the night sky. “Don’t get too close or your seals’ll get roasted,” I warned. They just continued to stare silently at the flames.
In attempting to describe a state of “tranquility” to the robots, one interjected: “A state of low latency; actuations execute with optimal feedback.” After a moment’s consideration I replied, “a little like that, yes.”
The worst part of the job was having to go down to survey the sub-levels, where the coastal cooling inlets were. There, the brackish water lay still. It was a noxious, corrosive sludge; a copper oxide nightmare.
“We are seemingly so different, yet we are all made of the same ‘stuff’.” One night I saw a robot looking out a window as it uttered this, apparently to no one in particular. Not willing to disturb the moment, I said nothing and moved on.
I overheard a couple of the robots discussing transportation choices and paused to listen. “Why do you ride a bicycle? Is a car not a more practical choice?” “No,” the other robot replied. “Cars require too much infrastructure. With the bicycle, I carry within me all that is needed to make it go.” I nodded to myself in approval and continued on my way.
The robot sat on the edge of the dock, a structure made somewhat untrustworthy by time and environment. Tremendous inconvenience, not to mention possible water damage, shimmered under its dangling feet. It was precisely this probability that allowed the robot the focus on isolating signal from noise.