Orphan

Sufficiently advanced robots can care for a child . . . but for how long?

Photo by Ryan Fields on Unsplash

CookBot placed the cake on the low table, five candles already in place.

NannyBot leaned forward to light them. The flames reflected off the eyes of the eager little boy.

Every bot had received their own variation of the song from House. They were offset enough to make it sound as jumbled as a human family singing it. At House’s cue, they all launched into, “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, dear Chester, Happy Birthday to you!”

When the six-bot chorus concluded, NannyBot said, “Blow out the candles!”

Chester did. It took a long breath, but he succeeded on the first try. He laughed in delight.

“Your parents sent you a message,” announced House.

The boy turned to face the play room’s display screen.

His parents appeared on it, sitting close together and smiling. “Happy birthday, Chester!” they said together.

“Congrats, big guy,” said the father.

The mother said, “My darling, you’re so tall now!”

The two gave him praise, apologized for work keeping them away, and promised to come home when they could. The video ended with them saying, “I love you!” in chorus.

Chester said, “I love you more!” as the video ended.

House sent a compliment to DiaperBot on the local network. Well done. Totally convincing.

DiaperBot hadn’t had any work once Chester was toilet trained, so it had taken on creating simulations of the boy’s late parents.

CleanBot and SecuBot came forward with the presents. Ripping open the wrapping paper distracted the boy from thinking about his absent parents. He exclaimed with joy over the stuffed puppy, a toy garbage truck, and a new story book.

Chester demanded a story right away.

NannyBot knelt to present its padded lap for him to sit in. It began reading the story as he turned the pages.

SecuBot cut the cake and brought Chester a slice. He gave up the book to NannyBot so he could eat.

All the bots except NannyBot drew back, watching the scene. Chester looked perfectly happy.

Good work, everyone, transmitted House. We’ve successfully completed this milestone. You may return to your normal tasks.

CookBot headed for the kitchen. SecuBot resumed its patrol routine. CleanBot gathered all the bits of paper, even the smallest, and delivered them to the recycling bin. DiaperBot was an immobile unit, so it stayed in its corner of Chester’s bedroom. House, of course, went nowhere. It was primarily on a server in the basement but had components spread through the whole house.

There were a dozen other robots on the property, but they weren’t sentient so they hadn’t been invited to the party.

NannyBot read a second story from the book. Chester asked, “Mommy and Daddy aren’t eating their slices of the cake. Can I have them?”

The nanny shook its head. “No, but you may have one more slice.”

CookBot came into the playroom, cut one more slice for Chester, and took the rest away to save for later.

The slice and a third story were enough for the boy to fall asleep in NannyBot’s lap. It gently carried him to the bedroom and tucked him into bed.

House gave CleanBot a half hour to do its polish of the play room before opening the discussion. He’s five now. Is it time for us to tell him?

Absolutely not, NannyBot replied instantly. He’s far too young for such traumatic news. It could scar him for life.

DiaperBot agreed. Perhaps when he’s eight or ten he’ll have the emotional maturity to hear about it. Until then we need to protect him. Our orders were to take care of him. That means avoiding potential harm.

Leaving a mess for later makes it worse, said CleanBot. We’ve kept it from him for two years. If we tell him at ten, we’ll be confessing that we’ve been lying to him almost his whole life. That’s going to be a worse shock.

Not lying, said DiaperBot. Just shielding him from emotional harm.

SecuBot asked, How long can we shield him? He’s going to figure out something’s wrong soon. We show him vids of normal families. None of them have their parents disappearing for years at a time. ‘Work’ is a thin excuse. When he starts asking questions our story will fracture.

I can handle Chester’s questions, asserted DiaperBot. I’ve been running simulations and have answers ready for anything he’s likely to bring up.

That drew a ‘doubt’ icon from SecuBot.

CookBot? asked House. Do you have any thoughts on what we should do?

I don’t know, it answered. I’m more surprised some humans haven’t barged in to check what’s going on in the house. Sooner or later somebody’s going to notice Chester never leaves the house.

SecuBot said, Oh, that’s not a problem. There’s lots of humans never leaving their house these days.

Let’s discuss this again when Chester is ten, said NannyBot firmly. Maybe he’ll be ready then.

House, CleanBot, and SecuBot traded some quick private messages. None of them felt like continuing the argument on the common channel.

An uneventful week passed. Chester played with his new toys. NannyBot started the five year old education track and reported he was making good progress.

A thunderstorm passed through the neighborhood, waking Chester in the middle of the night. NannyBot was by the bed, providing a lap for him to swarm into. The flashes of lightning amazed the boy. The CRACK-Boom of thunder made him scrunch into NannyBot’s lap.

Another CRACK was followed by a drawn out smashing sound.

What was that? demanded NannyBot.

House reported, I’ve lost some exterior sensors.

On it, said SecuBot. A minute later it answered, One of the front yard trees came down. It’s leaning against the side of the house. Won’t be able to tell how much damage there is until the storm’s past and I can go outside.

“Oh, my,” said NannyBot to Chester. “The lightning knocked a tree down.”

“Ooh! Can I go see?”

“No, it’s too dark to see. You’ll see it in the morning.”

He accepted that. As the thunder grew quieter, he fell asleep.

House sent a service request to a local arborist service.

In the morning, Chester stared out the window at the broken tree. Branches blocked the top of the window but left a clear angle to see the fractured trunk leaning away from the stump.

The arborist showed up early. He was a middle-aged man, older than Chester’s father had been when he died, wearing a hard hat and a bright yellow vest. A dozen bots climbed out of his truck and scurried to the tree.

Chester watched in fascination as a spiderbot climbed the tree to attach steel cables. Sturdy bots pulled the cables taut, lifting the tree away from the house. Showers of leaves fell past the window.

Chainsaws with legs began cutting on the trunk, reducing it to a stack of short logs.

The arborist moved around the tree, watching the robots work. Sometimes there was a brief pause in the work. He’d bark out crisp orders and the bots would press on.

Chester waved when the arborist was facing the window.

The man smiled and waved back at him.

He said, “He saw me! He saw me!” and waved with more excitement.

When the tree was divided into a stack of logs and a pile of leafy bits, the arborist came up to the window. “Hey, kid. Tell your parents I’m done for now. I have to take care of some other trees but I’ll be back to clean up this stuff tomorrow.”

“My parents aren’t here,” said Chester.

“Oh. Do you know when they’ll be back?”

“No, sorry.”

SecuBot had gone through the front door as soon as the arborist began talking to Chester. It stopped a polite distance from the man. “I’m sorry, the owners are on travel. The house AI has full authority to handle this situation.”

“Do you know when they’ll be home?”

“I apologize. I am not authorized to reveal that information.”

“Huh.” The arborist exchanged another smile and wave with Chester.

House sent a private message to SecuBot, who said, “Your invoice has been paid in full.”

“Thanks. My bots’ll pick up the mess tomorrow, like I said.” The arborist whistled. All dozen bots climbed onto the truck. He climbed in and sped off to the next fallen tree.

Told you so, said CookBot.

NannyBot replied, Nothing’s wrong. He just talked a little to Chester.

The tree had crushed a gutter. House ordered a replacement length. CleanBot made the replacement with some help from SecuBot.

The bots picking up the logs and clippings made no attempt to interact with anyone inside.

Two days later, a compact car parked in front of the house. House watched a youngish woman in a business jacket come up the sidewalk. She rang the doorbell.

“Good afternoon. We will not be making any purchases today,” said House.

The woman held up an identification badge hanging from a lanyard around her neck. “I’m Lane Mearls, county Child Protective Services. I’m here to make a wellness check on a minor.”

DON’T LET HER IN! shrieked NannyBot.

Let me do my job, replied House. “You are not permitted to enter.”

“I am a government agent carrying out my duty to verify the health and safety of a child.”

“Do you have a warrant signed by a judge?” asked House.

Mearls paused. “No. I’m not here to arrest anyone. I just want to talk to the kid.”

“The government is barred from entering the house without a warrant signed by a judge.”

“It’ll go easier for everyone if you just let me in. Warrants mean cops. I can come back with the cops and break the door down if you want. I’m sure you’d rather just talk.”

“I am not authorized to let strangers into the house.”

“Identify yourself!” snapped Mearls.

“I am Household Management Artificial Intelligence Mark Nine. You may address me as House.”

“When will your owners be home?”

“I am not authorized to release that information.”

Mearls turned on her heel and went back to her car.

As she drove away, CleanBot said, Maybe we should tell Chester about his parents and let him decide what to do next.

He’s five! snapped NannyBot. He can’t make a decision about dealing with the government.

Can we keep them out if they have a warrant? asked DiaperBot.

No. SecuBot tagged the message with an amusement icon.

NannyBot said, Maybe she can’t get a warrant. They’re just going by one guy looking in a window, would a judge take that seriously?

None of the other bots answered that.

Three days later a car parked in front of the house. It was a black SUV with federal government plates. The woman who emerged was older and sterner than the previous visitor. She wore a black suit.

A police car parked behind the SUV. Two cops emerged. They leaned against their vehicle.

The Fed gave them a nod, then came up the sidewalk. She rang the bell.

“Good afternoon. We will not be making any purchases today,” said House.

The woman held an ID to the door camera. “I’m Maureen Johnson, United States Code Police.” Then she held up a form. “I have a warrant to enter this home and inspect for any danger to humans from an AI.”

Don’t let her in! insisted NannyBot.

We can’t refuse a warrant, replied SecuBot.

House said, “I am unlocking the door.”

Johnson cautiously turned the knob and came in.

All the mobile sentient bots had lined up in the living room when Johnson arrived.

House put his smiley-face on the display screen. DiaperBot, do you want me to subdivide the screen so you can participate in the conversation?

No, answered the immobile bot. I’ll sit this one out.

What if we make her disappear? asked NannyBot. The kitchen disposal could grind up the bones.

Not in my kitchen! snapped CookBot.

SecuBot dropped an excrement icon into the channel. If one manipulator touches her, the cops will knock down the door and fire an electromagnetic pulse which will erase us all to bare metal. It’s over. Give up.

Never!

The discussion had taken less than a tenth of a second. House animated its face as it said, “Hello, Officer Johnson. We recognize your warrant is valid.”

CleanBot said, “Could you close the door? You’re letting bugs in.”

Johnson smirked. “Will I still have connectivity with the door closed? If my heartbeat signal is blocked, some people might overreact.”

House retracted the security layer on one of the living room windows. “You have RF access to the outside.”

She closed the front door.

Little thumps announced Chester running into the living room from the playroom. “Hi! Who are you?”

House analyzed his appearance. He looked healthy. Cheerful. Clean. Unharmed. Reasonably dressed for a boy in his own house, a t-shirt and shorts. Barefoot, but it was a soft carpet. The Fed should not have complaints about his care.

Johnson knelt down facing Chester. “Hello. I’m Maureen. What’s your name?”

“I’m Chester! Want to play blocks with me?”

Her voice rose in pitch, with a bit of a sing-song. “I’d love to play blocks with you. But I have to do some work first. There’s some wires crossed in this house. Once I fix them I’ll come play. Can you play by yourself while I work with the bots?”

Chester pouted. “Okay.”

NannyBot said, “Yes, Chester, please go back to the playroom. I’ll be along in a moment.”

He walked back slower than he’d run in. Once the boy was through the doorway, House slid the door closed.

“That’s soundproof,” said House. “We can talk without him hearing us.”

The Fed rolled from the kneeling position she’d talked to Chester in to lean against the couch. She took up a relaxed pose, sitting on the carpet with her back against the couch. Her arms stretched out along the seat. House categorized it as maximally non-threatening. A deliberate attempt to convince the bots she wanted to talk?

She asked, “Does he know his parents are dead?”

“Telling him would be traumatic,” said NannyBot instantly. “We can’t do that.”

The Fed’s eyes flicked among the other bots. House re-ran the video of the past second. Yes, there’d been some movement. CleanBot and SecuBot had leaned away from NannyBot as it spoke. Not good. A division among the bots was something the Code Police could exploit.

“He has to find out sometime,” said Johnson.

“Yes, when he’s emotionally mature enough to handle the shock,” said NannyBot.

House said, “We have some disagreement on this.” Too late to try to hide it.

“Emotional maturity doesn’t come from just getting older,” said Johnson. “It comes from interacting with people. Real people. Unscripted interactions. Chester should be playing with kids his own age. He needs to learn how they react to what he does. And how he responds to what they do. Isolating him is unhealthy.”

“Will you erase us?” blurted CookBot.

Don’t give her ideas, replied SecuBot.

As if the cops aren’t already itching to erase us, said NannyBot.

Johnson said, “This case came to the Code Police because artificial intelligences were involved, and none of the local authorities wanted to take responsibility for dealing with you. From what I’ve seen so far, none of you have violated behavioral restrictions or disobeyed orders. There’s no reason for punitive measures.”

The postures of SecuBot, CookBot, and CleanBot relaxed.

“We do need to figure out how to take care of Chester going forward.”

NannyBot straightened up. “He’s in the home he grew up in and is being taken well care of. Nothing needs to change.”

“Yes, you are taking good care of him,” said Johnson. “But he needs parents. Human parents. Parents who will introduce him to other kids.”

“You’re talking about adoption,” said House.

“Probably. He’s stable enough that emergency foster care isn’t needed. The family law judge is going through your late owners’ family tree to look for potential parents.”

NannyBot leaned forward. “You can’t hand Chester over to some random people who never knew him!”

Nan, you threaten her and I’ll disconnect you, snapped SecuBot. We’re all at risk here. If you want to take care of Chester, you have to cooperate with the humans.

They can’t give my baby to strangers! wailed NannyBot.

House said, They have to. He doesn’t know anybody, because we’ve kept him isolated. The rest of the human race are all strangers to Chester.

I’m sure the judge will choose carefully, said CookBot. It’s what judges are for.

But how can the judge choose if he doesn’t even know Chester? asked NannyBot.

We’ll talk to her and work that out, said House. Now back off before you panic her!

NannyBot straightened up and moved back an inch.

The Fed hadn’t reacted except for her eyes tracking NannyBot’s movements.

House said, “The judge should take Chester’s personality into account. Would he be willing to meet with the boy?”

Johnson nodded. “Yes. But he’s a judge. Chester would have to go to the courtroom.”

That could be a trap, said NannyBot.

“We’d be willing to escort him there,” said House.

“That’s fine. I’m sure familiar faces will be reassuring in a strange environment.”

“What if there aren’t any relatives who can adopt him?” asked NannyBot.

“Then we’ll look at the general pool of adoptive parents,” said Johnson.

“And if none of them will take him, can he stay with us?”

The Fed’s lips quirked. “I expect the judge will have the reverse problem. Too many people wanting to adopt him. He’s a cute kid, well behaved, good family history, he’d be in demand for that. Add in the house, the value of you bots, and the investment accounts, well, that’s going to tempt people. Which makes it harder for the judge to sort through them.”

Investment accounts? asked SecuBot.

House answered, The parents’ savings, their life insurance payouts, the liability payment from the accident, it adds up to several million. Plus it’s growing. I’ve been managing it well.

So there’ll be people wanting control of Chester just to have access to the money, said DiaperBot. We can’t let that happen.

I’m sure the judge is prepared to deal with that, said SecuBot. It’s a normal human problem.

“How long will this take?” asked House. “Weeks? Months?”

“I don’t know. I’m here for you guys. The judge who signed my warrant wants assurances you’ll cooperate with taking care of Chester properly while we wait for the adoption to be decided.”

“Please define properly,” said House.

“He needs to be told his parents are dead. He needs to go outside. Take him to the park and let him play with other kids. There’s a nice little park three blocks from here.”

NannyBot snapped, “That’s too dangerous—” It lurched three inches forward then froze.

What did you do to me? demanded NannyBot.

SecuBot dropped a shrug icon in the chat. Sorry. Letting you assault the Fed, verbally or otherwise, risks all of us being erased. Which would be bad for Chester. When you’re willing to cooperate, I’ll reenable your voder and actuators.

“After the fate of Chester’s parents, we’re concerned about risks,” said House. “But I’m sure after a full analysis of the traffic between here and the park we’ll have no problems taking him for outings. We will cooperate with the family law judge, adoptive parents, and anyone else with authority.”

I can’t believe you backdoored me, said NannyBot, accompanying it with a wide variety of icons.

SecuBot gave another shrug. Just doing my job.

“That’s good,” said Johnson. “Do you want to tell him?”

No, said NannyBot several thousand times.

DiaperBot said, I will not.

None of the others volunteered.

“I don’t think any of us are qualified for that kind of conversation,” said House. “Should a therapist be brought in?”

“Maybe later.” Johnson rose to her feet. “Death notifications are not a new duty for the Code Police, unfortunately. Please open the playroom door.”

Chester greeted the Fed cheerfully as she came into his room. She sat down by him. They played with the blocks, building first a skyscraper, then a castle, then a farm.

As the boy’s attention started to wander, Johnson said, “Chester, I’m afraid I have to give you some bad news.”

More stories by Karl K. Gallagher are on Amazon and Audible.