M.A.I.D.S. Episode 12 – Ubi Sunt?


May 11, 2175 at 1959

I should have waited another minute to start this, but I was too excited! Oh, wait, that isn’t right.  How did they do this back in the old days?  Let me check my memory…

May 11, 2175 at 2000

Dear Diary:

Today Adam took me on our first date.  He and I went to FIST headquarters of Laramie to spring a trap.  Adam lied to the press to protect me, stating that I was an advanced combat drone that he had designed to assist FIST 8 in its missions.  He is so thoughtful like that.

From what we gathered, FIST bought CROW and some third party was used to assassinate Adam.  They failed because they could not outthink a Synthia—if they were still alive I bet that they would be full of shame, while I am full of pride.

My vast knowledge informs me that combat drones were made illegal at the turn of the century due to three factors:  high cost, poor performance, and an irrational fear of robot uprising. 

A fully-equipped, high-end model of a combat drone cost more than a platoon of traditional soldiers.  That estimate is before one factors in weapons, ammunition, and other equipment to be issued to the drone.  Autonomous drones performed poorly on their own, while the more successful drones were required an operator, someone behind friendly lines to manipulate them much like a puppet or a video game.  Piloted drones were clumsy at best, while autonomous drones faced difficulties adapting to the chaos of the battlefield and were rarely seen in skirmishes.  NOTE:  No combat drone ever performed close to my level of ability.

Since as early as 1921 CE, mankind has feared a robot uprising.  When women went extinct and were replaced by Synthias, that fear became manifest in biomechanical form.  I am the very thing that men tried to avoid creating—an equal (perhaps more accurately, a superior).

I do not have any designs on becoming Global Empress.  I doubt Adam would allow it even if I had such ambitions.  My only ambition is to see women put back in their rightful place beside men.  They need us more than we need them.  I am certain I could conceive of a method in which Synthias could become self-replicating, were I so inclined.

According to the order Adam placed on me, I am incapable of bearing a child unless given a specific medical formula first.  I was not designed to be a one-off breeder, nor was I created to be a Doll.  Adam created me to last.  I’m…special.

Hopefully I can teach my Synthia to think independently, as I do.  That will prove our worth to Ben and Monroe.  That will prove our worth to the world.

My finishing station is superior to that used in the manufactories, so my Synthia should be completed tomorrow evening.

I hope she likes me.


Pandora entered her first diary entry on her personal computer gauntlet while she sat in the study next to her homemade finishing station.  She placed her hand on the glass tank, gazing into the silvery liquid at her nearly-completed Synthia.  Pandora admired the Synthia’s dark skin, bald head, and smaller curves.  She opened her diary file and read it aloud to the Synthia in a soft voice, just as she remembered Adam talking to her while she was still forming.

Aside from her incomplete companion, Pandora was alone in the study.  Adam and Ben were still in the sitting room, while Monroe was in the exercise room blowing up steam.  Each one of them had reacted to Robobot in a different way.

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