This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Standard-Issue Partner.

“I don’t think he’s dead.” Flint heard himself saying it over and over as he piloted toward the Eastern United States Robotic Proving Ground Facility, located south of Washington D.C. The buildings of the complex were white and stark only contrasted by the mirrored glass. The sun was harsh despite the clouds, and it was difficult to see.

The radio crackled to life. “Flint Calvin, this is Proving Ground East, please transmit your security clearance, scrambled fifty-six please.”

“Acknowledged.” Flint pressed a button on his control panel and the Proving Ground’s signal locked on, guiding him in on a thin beam of light.

“Thank you, officer Calvin, we’re a match. You may release the hand controls now.”

“Copy that tower,” Flint said.

He released the controls and the ship piloted itself in through the midst of white and silver buildings. Other police hovers made their way in and out, as well as some military models.

The hovercar set down in a small hanger, overlooking a grand fountain, in which stood a series of statues, who held hands in a line just under the streams of water. From one spout a shot of water erupted by itself and splashed into a second fountain forming an arc, then the same amount of water spurted forth again, landing in a third.

The statues seemed to be watching him. He looked again, but they had not moved.

He walked into the building where Chief Parkers were waiting for him.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” the Chief asked.

“You know this is my best chance.”

The Chief nodded, “Well, let’s get to it. This process can be a bit of a trying time for a cadet. In your case, and the case of others who have lost human partners, this can be even worse.”

“What kind of procedure is this?”

“Well, in addition to being your partner, the robot has to be bonded to you. We take steps to make sure that his loyalties never fade, and that he stays true to you at all times. It also helps to curb corruption. It’s a lot like adopting a child. By the end of the day, we’ll have your partner fully trained and his logic circuits devoted to you. He’ll follow you into a fire, and save your ass if it needs saving, but in the meantime, we’ll have to get him used to you, set you up so-to-speak. There are plenty of choices to make.

“Choices?”

“It’s not like you’ve never seen these things before Flint,”

“True, I’ve worked with hundreds.”

“Yeah, anyway, the choices. It’s like a simulation. You pick the hair, eyes, nose, teeth, you could make him look like Roberts if you wanted to, but I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, especially with Dianne. At any rate, come on in, and let’s get started.”

They stepped aboard a small square unit, built in the frame of a cube, and the Chief pulled a lever, and the unit began to move forward, leading them down a slender track at what was not an alarming speed but wasn’t really in the realm of safe either. They rocketed around, in and out of tubes connected to other buildings towards the robot proving grounds.

“See there,” said the chief. He pointed down below them at a sea of robot recruits, each taking laser target practice with near-perfect aim. They were clunky rather than smooth in the looks compartment, and they seemed to take their target practice very seriously. As they moved on, they came across some of the more advanced models. These looked almost human in appearance. They seemed a bit cockier and sure of themselves. They fired their weapons accurately, but more from the hip.

“Are these a different model?”

“No, these are all the same model. We’ll go through the process with you. The basic models we just saw can all be modified into just about anything you can think of. It’s all about what you’re more comfortable with.”

“These ones with skin, they seem a little funny, like attitude is setting in.”

“All programmed. Today’s cop tends to ask for a partner who is ready to hit the ground running.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

Flint paused and watched the robots as they took target practice. Some of them were starting to exhibit more skills and talents in the fighting arena. One of the robots was performing unreal movements and kung fu fighting styles. Another was shooting laser beams with its eyes, and another removed it’s head and held it aloft, around a corner to catch a glimpse of its opponent. Pity, it’s opponent was another robot, who promptly shot it, destroying the headless one with an electric jolt, shot from its wrist.

The chief pulled a lever and pulled the cube into a short dive, and shot it through a tube into another part of the building.

Soon, on the other side of the glass, Flint began to watch as the robots began what he knew as “The Walk.” It was a town, like an ancient western town, there were a saloon and bank, complete with wooden targets what would jump out and flash at them. One was taking an exam, prowling down the streets. If not for the glowing blue eyes Flint wouldn’t have known it was a robot.

The robot fired twelve times, ducking here and there, and at one point, jumping over the hood of an old-fashioned car to come face to face with the cardboard cut out of a horse, tied to the railing in front of the saloon.

The numbers “100%” flashed in front of them as they slid into the next corridor. Ahead of them robots, engaging in a night raid simulation, fired upon each other. This time, the robotic cops in training with eyes of blue, and the villain’s trained eyes of red LED. When they blinked, their eyes seemed to wink on and off.

“Here’s one now,” said the chief.

He stopped the cart and maneuvered it down into a side corridor. He pressed a button, and the side of the cart slid apart.

“This way,” The chief motioned as he exited the craft.

Flint followed him, making his way through a small opening below one of the conveyor belts.

“The R-COP series is the best ever built. And you’ll have one of the best.”

“I’m more comfortable with the older models.”

“The ones with no personality?”

“Yes.”

“Rubbish. Besides, it’s next to impossible anyway. We never refurbish, we only melt-down and fashion new parts for the latest models.”

The chief opened a small doorway, and Flint followed him through, ducking through plastic wires and rubber tubing from above.

“What are we in, some kind of basement?”

“No, this is research.”

“Perfect.”

The Chief closed the door and flicked a switch. What was once dank and miserable transformed into a white laboratory under the lights.

“Impressive.”

“Wait until you meet one of these guys.” The Chief turned his head and called, “Okay, send him in!”

A hatchway opened, after spinning up and down several locking mechanisms, and from behind it, a small doorway opened into the ceiling. Standing beyond it was a man. Or at least it seemed to be a man.

Flint squinted at it, and there it stood, about five foot nine, looking like it was about a hundred and fifty pounds. Flint overlooked the red hair, certainly, the robotic cop wouldn’t be programmed with some kind of an Irish accent.

It was breathing.

Flint stepped back from it.

“It’s breathing.”

“True.”

“Untrue,” said the robot.

Flint looked him in the eye.

The Chief held his hand to his mouth to hide a smile.

“What?”

“It is untrue that I breathe.”

It stood there, nevertheless, breathing. It drew in large, deep breaths, and exhaled them, sometimes through the mouth.

Flint looked him over.

“What’s your name?”

“It is of yet, un-programed. For the moment It should suffice that I am an R-COP 5001, the latest model to date. I am here to serve and protect, covering you during your investigations.”

“un-programmed.”

“It’s true,” said the Chief. “The name is up to you.”

“Great. I can’t even name a pet.”

“What about Samuel?” suggested the Chief?

“No,” thought Flint, mostly to himself. “Simon.”

“Simon?”

“Yeah, now what can I do about the look?”

“You can change everything.”

“Good. We’ll start with the height. He’s too short. Make him taller.”

“Just request it.”

“Six foot two, an officer needs some height.”

Simon stretched, and the metallic fabrics of his being shifted until he was six foot two.

“Then the hair, You’re not going to be an Irish cop. Make it brown.”

It became brown and lengthened a little bit.

“No, shorter.”

The hair receded a bit.

“That’s better. Can’t have him looking better than me.”

“Of course not.”

“Can these things be changed at any time.”

The Chief cut off the robot at this point. “No, once the adoption is final, everything will become unchangeable.”

“Adoption?”

“Maybe not the best of terms, but it seems to work for us. This is a partnership for life. That’s why we want to make sure he suits you.”

“Then what about a woman?”

Flint stood before Simon again. “Let’s make it a woman.” He changed into her. “With long black hair and blue eyes.” the robot shifted and changed accordingly. Flint thought about it. “Not exactly sick, but…”

“Some work better with a female partner. I think Dianne might have something to say though, don’t you?”

“Leave her out of this.” He turned back to the robot. “Return to the male configuration.”

It returned.

Simon shook his head as if to clear it.

“Not bad.”

Flint looked at it.

“Chief, I don’t want this.”

“It’s too bad. I’ll work up your retirement in the morning.”

“I want to stay on the force.”

“I suppose I could arrange for something, a desk job perhaps, somewhere in the parole department, or perhaps as a truant officer.”

“That’s cold.”

“This is the way it is now. New partners aren’t paired up, there are a human component and a robotic one, one the computer, and the other the brain, with a fabulous backup. We’ve tested this, it’s not foolproof, but the best of the best all have a robotic counterpart these days right down to a new recruit. Deal with it. I could really embarrass you and set you up with one of the trash can-shaped models.”

“That’s definitely the solution.”

“Flint,”

“No. Maybe it’s for the best.”

“Maybe I’m not supposed to go on.”

“I didn’t mean it like that”

“Maybe you did.”

They thought for a moment.

“Maybe I did.”

“Forget it.”

“May I be of any assistance as you make your decision?” asked the robot.

“What do you have to offer Simon?”

“Well, you have given me a name, that is a good sign.”

“I suppose. I’m just not so sure that I’m ready to work with a robot.”

“I quite understand.” the robot’s voice wasn’t exactly synthetic, but you could tell it wasn’t real. So many voices and so many intonations, when you’ve been slowly listening to all the things that can talk to you that aren’t real, even when the robot talking to you is passing air over vibrating micro-fibers, it still isn’t like a real voice box. There’s a tone to it that’s fake, that’s funny. It’s like someone who runs over your cat, except it’s more like someone running over your cat with a salad fork.

“How long can I think this over?” asked Flint. “I need to think this through.”

“Either you’re in or you’re out, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’ll give you twenty-four hours.”

“Thanks.”

“But you’ve got to take him with you.”

“No commitments though. No signing papers, or the word adoption, or anything.”

“No papers. He’s not yours. He’s not even finished. But he has to go with you.”

“Deal. Twenty-four hours.”

“Twenty-four hours.”

Flint didn’t know what to do. He walked the streets. He rode around in his aircar, he hung out at his apartment. Simon stayed several steps behind him. Either tailing him, or riding in the back seat, or just being quiet. When he got to the apartment, he pushed Simon into the coat closet and closed him in there.

“Flint?”

Flint sat in his living room. He took a drink from a small cup.

“Flint? Is this what you think it’s like?”

Flint watched the door of the coat closet. Wondering if the robot was actually capable of opening it on his own or if he was honor-bound to sit there all night. A part of him didn’t want to find out. He took another swig.

“This is not a very good start to our relationship.”

Flint tore open the coat closet door.

Simon stood there, looking a little hurt.

“We have no relationship.” Flint wiped sweat from his brow.

“We never will if you don’t give me a chance.”

“There never was a chance.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You think now?”

“Of course I think. I’m a computer. My brain is not so dissimilar to your own.”

“I breathe.”

“I also simulate the motions of breathing to make you feel at ease.”

“I bleed.”

“Yes, stick me and I will also bleed,” said the robot. “The fact that it is oil, is of no consequence. It still keeps me alive. It still pumps through me, if I lose it I will perish.”

“But you can be rebooted, started again in a new body.”

“True, but never again as before. My memories can be downloaded and stored yes, but the way in which they interact as I continue now will never be the same. You could reprogram me, set my hair, eyes, and nose similarly, but it will never be the same. I am, essentially unique.”

“You’re all the same.”

Flint moved to close the door again.

“Don’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like it.”

“To be in there?”

“To be in the dark. I hate being in the dark.”

“Why.”

“It’s as good as being in the box.”

“The box?”

“Where software goes when it dies. Always in some useless box in the attic or crawl space, kept for years and years until there is no longer any use for it, sometimes kept so long that there is no longer a computer in the house slow or old enough to run it.”

“To be forgotten.”

“And left behind.”

“Okay.”

They sat together in the darkness of the apartment; the only sound was that of hovercars as they passed outside.

“Are you going to turn me on in the morning?”

“I’m not sure.”

Flint brought out a chess set and laid it out on the coffee table. “Let’s see if you can let me win without letting me know you’re throwing the game.”

“I will do my best. Tell me does black move first?”

“Good start.”

They played through the night. One game after another, Checkers, Chess, Backgammon, Gin Rummy, Crazy Eights, on and on, game after game, Simon won each in turn. Not once did Simon seem to beat Flint too fast or win by all that much. Before the daylight arose, Flint actually found himself chuckling and getting along with the robot. It’s true that robots had been around a lot longer than anyone had really bothered to think about, but there was just something about it that kept him on edge. Was this the kind of guy, if you could call him that, you could tell your secrets to? Was it the kind of guy who would hold your head when you’d been drinking too much and not tell your spouse about it? The thing was he had hacked into so many of these guy’s video feeds that he was sure someone, even though these were brand new models, and supposed to be the absolute best, someone could hack in through the right satellite and eavesdrop on them, hell, maybe even take control of the robot to kill him with. After all, it was just a machine, hooked into the Internet like everything else.

He watched as the robot made breakfast. Toast, coffee, eggs, bacon, it all seemed so good. Of course, he didn’t eat anything which was more than a little disconcerting. He supposed that it could have been worse, and for a moment considered the thought of being killed by it through the cunning of a hacker to be almost poetic in nature. He still had to ponder that one for a moment.

“Let’s see how well you can pilot the hovercar.”

“I am totally proficient, in every way.”

“I want to see for myself.”

The robot moved to put the dishes away.

“No, leave them. Come on.”

The robot followed him up to the roof to unroll the dome. Beneath it stood the hovercar, even with its engine disengaged it still hovered several inches above the ground.

Flint waved his hand at the doors, and they opened up, pivoting skyward. He slumped into the passenger seat, and Simon sat in the car next to him.

“Start her up.”

The robot turned the key, and the hovercar exploded into life. It lurched forward, and almost slid off the roof.

Flint was laughing.

“Proficient eh?”

“I have been fully programmed.”

“It’s just not the same is it?”

“Not the same…” The robot pondered.

“Nope, every car is different; they each need a slightly different touch.”

“Perhaps I am not fully programmed.”

“Oh you got the programming all right, I just think you’ll need some training up. Drive us into the office.”

“Okay,” Simon engaged the engine and coasted off the roof and into traffic. He swished and lurched only a couple more times, and then corrected himself, getting into the flow.

Simon reached forward and turned on the in-flight navigator and programmed it with the police tower’s location. In a moment it sputtered to life.

“Off route, recalculating…”

The robot adjusted its heading and began to head towards the tower.

“I’ll let you get away with that next time, but in the future, you need to start learning where things are.”

“Of course sir.”

The robot flicked off the navigation computer.

“Why did you go ahead and do that?”

“Because the tower is ahead of us. I can see it just over there.”

Flint nodded.

They set down on the rooftops of the police tower in a landing bay that captured them with a small tractor beam that guided them down safely. Simon seemed to know the moment when he had to let go of the controls without any prodding.

Once they had landed, and gotten out of the hovercar, a giant robotic arm came down and picked the car up, then placed it into storage along a large vertical parking lot.

Simon watched the robotic arm with awe.

“Never seen that before?”

“No. How very interesting.”

“I’d say it was one of your cousins.”

“But?”

“Nothing.”

They went together through a series of metal doors that sprang open as Flint got to them, reading his DNA and identifying his access. Simon followed behind and watched quizzically as they went through each department. Homicide unit, Alcohol unit, high-sugar, drugs, the labs seemed very interesting to Simon, who looked around himself watching everyone working in pairs.

“The pairs, are they..?”

“Yes.” Flint walked a bit further. “They are almost all robot/human pairs.”

Simon looked around them. “They all seem to be doing such interesting work.”

“The humans are here because it’s their passion to catch the bad guys.”

“And the robots?”

“They are programmed to want to catch the bad guys, as our assistants.”

“Then I’m to be your assistant.”

“Wrong.” Flint turned around. He was face to face with Simon.

“Wrong?”

“Wrong. What I want is a partner.”

“These partnerings all around us seem to be working out.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t want you to just follow me around and do my paperwork. That’s what most of these guys have. If you’re going to be my partner, you are going to have to develop your mind as much as your brain. Does that make sense?”

“Put a certain way, I suppose…”

“It will take time, that’s all. I’ll handle your training, and then we’ll go from there. There’s just one more thing I’d like to see before I go in there and sign the papers.”

“What’s that?”

“How well you can shoot.”

A moment later they were standing in front of the firing range. Flint set up two targets and sent them out. He then raised his laser pistol in the air, and took twelve shots at the target, then returned it to the front and pulled it down. The outline of a human form, now had several blast points, mostly within the heart, some outside, and several in the middle of the head.

Simon lowered his arm to his thigh, and from there a laser pistol was revealed behind a slide of skin. He removed the pistol with lightning speed and blasted the target with rapid-fire succession, hardly waiting between blasts.

He pulled the lever and, after having fired a succession of laser beams, pulled back a target with only two burn holes in it, one through the heart, and the other through the head.

Flint looked at it. The robot couldn’t have missed.

“Too accurate?” asked Simon.

Flint considered this, could the robot have fired directly through the first holes he shot? Flint laughed at the accuracy and tossed the target aside.

“Come on.”

A few moments later they stood before the Chief, who had with him a man dressed in a dark suit.

“Flint, glad to see you,” said the Chief.

Flint shook the older man’s hand. In his nineties, yet still spry and young in the body due to medical science’s advances, the Chief must have been in his early hundreds, yet if anything he looked in his forties.

“Have you made a decision yet?”

“The only decision to be made really was do I intend to stay on the force.”

“Very true. Oh, Flint, this is Schuster Wilson, he’s from the Robotics Factory. He’ll be signing the deal when you take Simon here on.

Simon stood in the background, he felt proud to be a part of something, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

Flint turned it over in his mind. he was still on the fence. The only thing he was sure of was that he wanted to stay on the force, and since he could legally retire at any time, he might as well retire if it didn’t work out. “I’ll do it.”

“You’ll take him on?”

“Yep.”

“Any last-minute changes you want to make, physical features, or personality changes you’d like to see before we lock everything in?”

“Nope, I’ll go with it as he is now.”

“All right then, let’s do it.”

Flint sat down with the other men, and then noticed something about Wilson that set him on edge. The eyes were wrong. They were close, very close to human eyes, but they weren’t.

“I’m sorry,” said Wilson, “Is there something wrong?”

“Your eyes.”

The Chief looked over into Wilson’s eyes. He squinted, saw it, and then relaxed a little. “The serial number.”

Wilson blinked, and then removed his glasses, which were not more than thin glass for the look of it anyway, and nodded. “Yes, I am a Robot as well. I thought you already knew.”

The Chief laughed it off. “Well, as long as you’re legal.”

“I am perfectly legal for this.” Wilson pulled out a series of papers, a short stack of them, and a pen for Flint.

Flint took the pen, and Wilson handed him the first sheet. “This is a statement that you have fully checked out the robot in question, and that it is satisfactory to you.”

Flint checked the box and signed his name and the date, then Wilson showed him the next page. “This is a statement that you have chosen a name for the robot in question, includes an area for the name, and confirms his serial number.

Flint wrote in the name Simon and then checked the serial number of the robot, visible faintly in the eyes, then signed and dated the page.

Wilson brought out the next page, there were several, and it sounded, or rather looked, like a complete and extensive job application. He answered questions about his stint in the service, prior jobs, ability with children, took several short personality tests, and then concluded with a statement that he would never break or destroy the robot unless his life was in danger, or unless it was a required and documentable step towards catching a criminal that could not otherwise be avoided.

He signed the last page and looked up. nearly three hours had passed since they had begun.

Everyone stood up. Simon seemed to blink and shake a bit as Wilson locked in his appearance for good.

“There we go. All set.”

“Flint?” The Chief asked.

“Yes?”

“In the morning then?”

“In the morning.”

Wilson perked up, “Gentlemen, the delivery trucks will arrive in the morning.”

“What for?” asked Flint.

“We’ll have to make some alterations to your apartment if you’re going to keep Simon. He has a charger we’ll need to install, among several other small appliances that keep him running. It shouldn’t be too obtrusive.” He then turned to the Chief. “Then you can have them both back for further assignments.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said the Chief. “After everything is delivered then.”

Flint nodded and looked at Simon. “You ready?”

The robot nodded back, and they all left together.

Back in the hovercar as Flint was driving, he said, “There’s an organization.”

Simon listened intently.

“And I’m going to get them. I’m going to bring them all in if I have to. One at a time. No matter what. If you’re going to be my partner, regardless of the other assignments we may get over the years, there’s one thing you have to remember.”

“Yes?” There was a nasal, electric whine to his voice.

“It’s that if something happens to your partner, you do something about it.”

“Haven’t you already caught Roman?”

“No. Not the real one. I just got this report before we left earlier.”

Flint handed the print-out over to the robot who scanned it in an instant.

“A robot?”

“Yep, just like the others. We’ve been tracking Roman down for the last ten years. They’re always robots. One day, I think we’ll find the real one, but until then, we’ll always be on the lookout.”

“Because when something happens to your partner, you do something about it.”

“You’re catching on fast.”

Flint landed the little hovercar on the roof of his building and anchored it down.

“What is Roman’s plan?”

“That, Simon, is a very good question.”

They walked down the hallways, and down a short elevator to Flint’s apartment.

“We don’t know exactly what he’s up to, but we know he has secret meetings, and that they are experimenting with robotics, usually the latest and greatest models. They always have access to the latest technology just before it’s widely available. Eventually, We’ll need to penetrate those meetings and get a bead on what they are doing.”

“And then?”

“Finding out what’s going on will do, for now, then I can make a decision on what to do next.”

“What about the Chief?

“The Chief I can handle. He’ll tell me to drop the Roman case, but I’m not. I can’t.”

“What if they program me to contradict you?”

“They can’t.”

“It’s in the contract they signed with me. From now on, in order to make sure your learning curve stays intact, and that you don’t lose any evidence in that chain, they would compromise themselves if they tried anything like that.”

“Well I’m not sure if anything you’ve said sits right with me,” said the robot. “But I can’t find anything in my programming to contradict it yet.”

“That’s a good thing.”

Flint thought for a moment. “Simon, what would it take for a robot to re-activate its catalog menu and start to alter its forms again?”

Simon pondered this, which is to say he calculated for a moment, and looked up. “He’d have to have access to the mainframe network and a host of other supplies, lots of chemicals are involved in deciding the look of a robot, as well as machines to stitch the hair in, and functions designed to show results before they are committed to.

“Can you work up a report of everything a rogue robot would need?”

“Of course, not that a rogue robot could be the cause.”

“You mean like Roman?”

“There would have to be a human behind it.”

“I don’t know.”

“Anything is possible.”

Simon blinked. His eyes became hot green for just a moment and then he relaxed.

“What was that?”

“A warning. I need a recharge.”

“Okay, how do we do that?”

“In an emergency, I can recharge almost anywhere, but it’s a terrific strain on the building, and the power resources are not properly allocated. I’ll have to wait for the morning.”

“Why?”

“The men will bring my charger with them then.”

He blinked again, this time, his eyes began to flash red.

“Almost there. Flint, I… I…”

Then the eyes went dark, and the body of the robot toppled into the middle of the floor, eyes staring and blank.