Tevun-Krus #100

78 - E.T.O.R. Part 2 - @DavidGibbs6 - AI

E.T.O.R Part 2

By DavidGibbs6

Crusher jack-in-a-boxed two guys running towards the cover directly to its left, firing a dozen rounds around them, causing the men to flail and throw themselves in the sand behind a concrete bollard.

It ducked back behind Crusher's own barrier and systematically thumbed rounds into a bulky scary looking hand held gun. Its thumb pad was soft and rubbery, designed specifically for this purpose and very well suited to the task.

Crusher liked its job very much. The humans it worked with, less so. But the audience loved his work. Crusher was a gladiator and the arena games were its life.

Internally it counted down the required seconds before breaking cover to fire again. The shots were loud and dramatic, taking chunks of concrete off their cover and clipping one of the men in the ear.

The crowd cheered, drowning out the Ethical Treatment Of Robot protesters that practically lived outside this arena.

Crusher really didn't understand the issue at all. It couldn't see their point. It understood the technical arguments, it was required by law that its programming included all the facts surrounding the issue. It was a giant folder inside its system labeled 'robotrights'. The protesters claimed that the inclusion was not effective, because the AIs weren't reading the files or that it wasn't fully integrated and therefore a meaningless inclusion.

This was a misunderstanding by the people from E.T.O.R. It did read the file. They didn't understand Crusher in the same way, it didn't understand them. Their humanity was as alien a concept to it, as much as it, was another black box to them.

But Crusher really did like its job. Killing humans was fun and interesting.

The two guys huddled behind their block, scared to lose their lives, Crusher didn't have that same fear. It understood the capital punishment protesters much better than the E.T.O.R. The argument for human rights was much more logical.

Springing up on its vaguely humanoid legs Crusher began its menencing stalk, flanking the convicts position, gun at an arms length, ready.

Mathematically one hundred percent accurate but only ninety eight percent of shots ever found a human target, Crusher was a precision machine. Humans had found a way to solve their overcrowded prisons and capital punishment issues all in one swoop. And the entertainment industry around it all, paid for more humane conditions and better quality of life and rehabilitation prospects for more desirable people.

And the humans got a choice. Or at least the illusion of a choice. Crusher also had a choice. Every session before the start it had a choice to be here or not. Of course it chose to be here every single time. Where else would it be? What else could it do? This was its programming and it was programmed to love every second of it.

A bullet whoosed past its sensors coming from behind as another criminal fired upon it from the right. Rotating fast from the hips without changing its footing the robot fired a volley at the attacker, missing completely but making the wood barrier splinter and shatter dramatically. Whirring back it continued its stalk, coldly thumbing more rounds as it went.

There was only one human death sentence to be carried out this session and it was made to look random, as if the guy had just gotten unlucky or had made a blunder. Behind the scenes though, it had been calculated by a different AI, that this human was unable to be rehabilitated and thus would be removed and destroyed. That task was the job of robot 11110110, stage name, Crusher.

One of the men broke cover making a run for it and Crusher let loose a volley of shots. It wasn't the condemned man, so each shot came close, but missed its mark. Leaving the other man cowering, alone against a cold AI executioner.

All checks and balances were positive and unit 246 was still cleared to proceed, so Cusher leveled its weapon and let loose.

The first bullet pierced the neck and spinal cord, disconnecting it from the human brain. Then a series of shots around the major organs disrupted his functions. The crowd roared, their favorite execution finisher being played out live. Big screens showed the body cam footage up close as each shot made the body jerk violently.

Crusher had to turn and do a victory pose, its humanoid arms raised in triumph, it didn't have a choice, programming and all. Even though the other contender was rushing back at it, bat in hand. Melee weapons were scattered about and were readily used to take out robots. The blunt force trauma, much better at disrupting robot function than bullets.

Crusher spun on its hip joint and fired the last three shots before taking a bat to the head. They all went wide with one hundred percent accuracy. The human must have had some good adrenalin pumping because he swung again and again, ignoring the danger such a robot could pose with powerful skeletal metal limbs. He got close and Crusher went down. Hydraulic fluid streamed up, spraying the man and signaling Crusher's demise. Its cam cracked and blurred from the oil. Crusher's name on the big screen dropped from the active box to the decommissioned one.

Crusher loved this bit the most. The not dying part, and the theater of it. It flailed and attempt to stand. It got to gyrate and twist or claw at the sand in a futile attempt to enact some revenge. The crowd had booed Crusher's demise, but it knew it wasn't genuine. People didn't actually feel for it, in the same way they didn't feel for the dead man on the sand. In the same way they didn't really care for the humans victory either as the remaining five people overran the last two robots. People just loved the drama and the seemingly random results. Like rolling dice to see what you get, just for the fun of it.

Even though Crusher was broken and abused, humiliated in front of an audience, spat on by undesirable humans and then tinkered with by other disrespectful mechanics. It still couldn't help but love it. The feeling of being alive and having a purpose, and some would argue it was a meaningful purpose. The Ethical Treatment Of Robots people didn't understand that, couldn't understand that. It just wasn't in their programming.