//-------------------------------------------------------// I, Pony -by MV- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Prologue //-------------------------------------------------------// Prologue Sitting on the bench, the reporter used his robotic arms to input some last minute ideas into his tablet. As he did, the door near him dilated, revealing a genderless pony robot. Its movements were crude, clunky, and loud as it approached him. Its dull metallic body was unpainted, marred by both time and experience. The large optical orbs protruding from its head reminded him of something insectoid, though far from friendly. Yet, as it stopped before him, he could see the extreme care and precision that had been worked into the detail to make it look so old and battered. It made sense considering the aged pony he was about to interview. “Dr. Chloride will now see you,” it said with a voice fitting it’s theme. The reporter put away his tablet and folded the robotic appendages along his back. Taking a deep breath, he then exhaled with a wide smile and followed the machine. The inner sanctum of Dr. Chloride was modest for Equestria’s renown, reclusive, and quiet retired robopsychologist. He actually expected something more from such notoriety, such as when he entered her dwelling and was barraged by the vast array of awards and achievements scattered about. Even the robots that greeted him were hardly robotic in appearance. Here – all that was lacking. The world was simple, practical, and functional. There was another word he could have chosen in that assessment: cold. Stopping at the door, the robot turned to him. “Dr. Chloride’s condition has decreased of late and her physicians have implemented strict conditions. Your allotted time has been decreased to an hour. If you cause her any undo stress you will be promptly removed.” An hour, he thought to himself, well – there went those ideas. It wasn’t a surprise considering that the good doctor was almost a hundred and sixty. Well, maybe the “good” part of that statement was a stretch, he mused. When the door dilated, he followed the machine into the dimly lit room where Dr. Chloride sat in an elaborate medical chair. With all the lifegiving equipment abound, all converging onto her, he couldn’t help but reassess the room as a prison. There was no moving the dry husk of a unicorn, not that he believed she could be moved in her state. The robot introduced him to the withered yellow mare. “Thank you Robbie,” said Dr. Chloride dismissing the robot. The machine left with the door contracting behind it, muffling its departure. “Times change, young stallion,” the mare began unexpectedly. “It is an inevitability to be left behind. As such, having something familiar surrounding us, keeps the dreariness of the modern day at bay.” The reported made a questioning look. She groaned. “Every reporter who has ever come to barrage me with questions always asks about Robbie, and I have answered the drowl question before you could ask it,” she said with a flat stare. “Now, if you don’t mind, I can’t hear so well and since Robbie doesn’t have a mouth I couldn’t read his lips. Whatever your name is, I don’t care. By the time this interview is over, my memory will have purged you as though you had never existed. So, what list of repetitive dribble have you brought to assault me?” Dr. Sodium Chloride was as salty in appearance as was her tongue. Even for her age, that flat stare of hers pierced right through him, causing him to fumbled for his tablet with his arms. She groaned again. Before he could ask his first question she began to ramble. “I remember when ponies didn’t have arms to help with their everyday needs. I never cared much for them myself. I had two good hooves and my magic, but for an earth pony and a pegasi it make sense to undergo the operation.” She sat there, a look of being elsewhere. “There was a time when ponies strove for the stars…” “We still do, Dr. Chloride,” he quickly cut in. “They just discovered another solar system on the rim behind a cloud made of anti–” Her tone was sharp. “Expanding should not be misconstrued with striving. Ponies need to expand otherwise the federation we have created for ourselves will crumble. There’s no ‘want’ in it.” Closing her eyes she continued, “It wasn’t always as such.” “Is that why you became a robopsychologist?” he asked barely finishing the sentence as her deadly gaze clamped up his mouth. With a smirk, her gaze eased. “You’re probably the first that has made that connection.” He smiled. “Of course you’d be the first one I remembered to make that connection.” And the smile was gone. “This exuberant list of questions you’ve tediously compiled together, let me guess: how does a positronic matrix work or maybe you want my perspective on how robots interpret the Laws of Robotics. Perhaps both. I doubt whatever questions your mind has facilitated  hasn’t already been asked and answered or that your readership will be interested in the slightest.” Looking over the questions he had compiled, she was correct. This was just a routine assignment, one that nopony else had wanted and for the obvious. He was here for some form of formality, what that formality was he didn’t know nor did he care. He was here on a job and that was all that mattered. What to do now, he asked himself. Clearly this road had been well traveled before and what new angle could he provide? Then an idea came to him. “Well, since you’ve done it all before…maybe you can elaborate on that part about ponies wanting to strive for the stars.” The smirk on the elderly pony returned. “I believe you have found your angle,” Dr. Chloride said, then tapped a button. “Robbie, I’ll require a pitcher of coffee – with two mugs. Do not forget the creamer.” “Dr. Chloride, your are under orders not to drink anything that could stress your heart,” replied the mechanical voice on the other side. “I am at the end of my life. A cup of coffee will not change the inevitable,” said the doctor firmly. Silence filled the room beyond the normal noises of the life giving machines. Then, “Your coffee will be ready in fifteen minutes.” “Thanks, but I don’t drink coffee,” said the reporter with a smile and a wave of the hoof. She chuckled or was it a gag, it was hard for him to tell the difference. “You will after listening to my stories. I’ve been told that I’m quite dry. In any case, I’ll need the coffee merely to stay awake from boring myself.” He didn’t doubt it. “I’m surprised the robot went along with your request. Isn’t that a conflict of the First Law?” “Yes, it is,” she said. “Then how did you get it to go along with your request?” “That there is a good question. Being a robopsychologist has its moments where the positronic matrix can become an amusing playground, beyond the terror that it normally is.” He scrunched up his face. “Terror?” “If only ponies truly understood what my profession has to deal with. I’m getting ahead of myself of course. With any good story, there should be a foundation to work upon.” said Dr. Chloride. The aged pony stared again to someplace unknown and began. “The three Laws are designed for a purpose. They keep ponies safe and order in place, plus they keep the property from allowing itself to become damaged. Yet, for as simple as the Laws are, there are so many more complex complications that can arise from them. Then again, sometimes even complex scenarios can have the simplest of solutions.” //-------------------------------------------------------// The Three Laws //-------------------------------------------------------// The Three Laws “First, a robot may not injure a living being or, through inaction, allow a living being to come to harm. Second, a robot must obey orders given to it by any living being except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. Third, a robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law,” said the unicorn standing next to Barley. The tan mare looked up from her sitting position and stared hard at the stallion, her face all bunched into a frown. “You do realize that you’ve said them five times now,” she said calmly. “Five times. I know my intellect isn’t as high as yours, R. Olive, but I know what I’m doing!” Without looking at the earth pony the white and yellow stallion replied, “It wasn’t my intent to offend you, Detective Barley. It is my understanding, however, that audio repetition can help–” “I don’t need a lesson on something everypony knows!” She wanted to strangle him. He was always like this. No matter how many times she tried to explain how to be more…She sighed. It had been a few months since they had last seen each other and she had forgotten how infuriating R. Olive could be when she wasn’t ignoring him. “Just...just keep watching, please.” “As you wish,” replied the stallion. She couldn’t help but focus in on that stare of his: cold, calculated, watchful. It was eerie,  but more importantly it was lifeless. It reminded her of the true nature that hide underneath his surface. Returning her gaze to the legion of robots that R. Olive had been watching, she set her mind on reviewing all the details so far, starting from the beginning. She knew there had to be something she had missed or overlooked. The sensation in the back of her mind gnawed at her, like any good hunch should. Two days ago, she had been sent to the local manufacturing plant of the Equestrian Robots and Mechanical Ponies’ company. She had not liked the idea of being sent anywhere near one of the ERMP’s facilities, nor the idea that she had somehow got stuck with having to find a missing pony in the massive plant. When she arrived it was clear the Chief had been holding back some much needed details. Barley played the conversation again in her mind, going over all the details the stuffy ERMP rep pony had been willing to share. She remembered the pegasi being rather tired looking and far from happy upon seeing her. It didn’t change the quality of his professionalism however. “I can’t help the miscommunication between you and you superior, all I know is that you were recommended by one of our top robopsycologists and so you are here.” “You do realize that statement doesn’t make any sense right,” she had said flatly, waving a hoof in front of herself. “Even I wouldn’t choose myself for this.” “I understand, but I don’t question the eggheads,” said the rep folding his hooves together. “We have a misplaced robot, not a missing pony. Considering we are on the same page as to your assessment of yourself, I believe you realize the gravity of the situation.” Of course she did, she herself was a Terran Pony unlike the pegasi she had to deal with. Robots existed everywhere in the universe, helping ponies in whatever facet they could. They actually were more numerous because of that fact, which was the main reason why the Terran government made it clear that robots were only allowed on Terra in small numbers and for certain purposes. Forget the paranoia, most Terran Ponies just didn’t want their jobs taken away. “I’m fully aware,” she had told the rep. “Getting back to business, can you elaborate more on your misplaced robot. ‘Cause it sounds to me that you already know where it is.” The pegasi stood and moved behind his chair looking at the window then back to her. “Our manufacturing facilities have a tendency of creating a lot of heat as a result of operating the manufacturing lines. Since we are not allowed to exceed a certain amount of heat per cubic hoof, we have cooling chambers that manage this. Nopony or otherwise wants this planet to turn into a greenhouse.” Taking hold of the top of the swivel chair, he continued, “Because of the nature of the work involved we keep designated robots for those areas. No other robots can be used nor can these robots leave as to prevent getting their tasks mixed up. For some reason one of these robots deviated from its assigned parameters and left its assigned area. Furthermore, it has attempted to leave the facility. Fortunately we were able to contain it within one of our robot storehouses, but I believe you can see where this is going.” She groaned. “It went into one filled with robots right.” “Yes and now we can’t make heads or tails of which one is which.” “It should have a serial number,” Barley had pointed out sarcastically. “Did you try that first?” “Detective Barley,” said the rep pony with a stiff tone. “I think you underestimate the seriousness in which we take ourselves as the leading robotics company. Equestrian Robots and Mechanical Ponies does not tolerate errors. Our whole reputation depends on that trust with the Terran government and it’s ponies.” Sitting back into the chair, the pegasi continued, “In our investigation we uncovered a destroyed robot with its serial plate removed. We even went to examine all the robots in the storehouse to see if any had their plates adjusted. Upon inspection all the plates had been removed and reattached. There is no way to identify the robot in question externally. We would have involved Dr. Chloride as this is her specialty, but she is currently at a conference off planet and cannot be retrieved. She is the one who made the recommendation for you–if you were wondering.” That had actually amazed her, but it was the equivalent of getting a recommendation from the Devil. There wasn’t much else the rep had been able to tell her. Investigating the robot’s work area and technician, on the other hoof, had helped shed some light. “Remember exactly what happened and exactly what you said, not a sum up of it,” she had told the earth pony tech. “Welp,” said the technician. “I was working in the cooling chamber, putting in a new hydro pump with the bucket head...I mean robot, all the while the darn thing fumbling about me. I know those bucket of bolts want to be helpful, but the space in those cooling chambers are cramped enough as it is and it doesn’t help when your robot is trying to get all touchy-feely. Get pushed near any of those cryo tubes and you’ll have an ice block for a hide.” The tech had pointed a hoof at her as she continued, “Those cooling chambers are stressful enough without a robot, it doesn’t help when your robot is more trouble than help. I finally had enough of it, so I told the thing to get as far away from me as possible and it did so. When I got out, the robot was nowhere in sight so I had to report it.” “Why not just let the robot do the work, that is if the work is potentially hazardous?” she had asked. “Because a robot isn’t as flexible as us, right. Darn things are so rigid it would bankrupt the company to make a legion of them that could be just as flexible. Seriously, what egghead came up with the idea of putting a twenty pound pump with the motor facing away from the opening? I’m lucky if I can get the darn thing in let alone wire it up.” Further investigation hadn’t yielded anything of worth. Which brought her back to where she sat now. The storehouse was what could be expected for storing a bunch of robots. Just four walls, a floor, a roof, ton’s of open space, and lots of motionless quiet robots. A wave of goosebumps washed over her and she was immediately on her hooves moving around. It didn’t take an egghead to figure out why the robot had ran off. A command was given by a pony and it followed it exactly as it would interpret it: literally. Whatever logic was working in the robots matrix to fulfill that command caused it to be very clever...well logical, but enough so that she’d call the thing clever. It had gone far enough to convince the other robots to follow along in its game of hide and seek and she wasn’t any closer than when she had started. Her first attempt was to have the tech rescind the command. Second Law, the robot had to obey a command giving by a living being. Add the fact that it was the same exact tech should have cleared the issue. Sadly it did not work. She might not have been a robopsychologist, but, she understood enough about the darn things that something else had to be holding up the robot’s logic. Whatever it was, that was what she had to solve in order to find it. She had tried questioning each robot individually and comparing answers. The robot in question would only known answers to anything from the area it worked in as the others clearly wouldn’t. Again, with the help of the tech and armed with the Second Law, she compared the answers and again found herself outwitted. Each robot answered verbatim. When the idea struck her to separating the robots into groups with some elaborate maneuvers between the groups, it was too late. None of the robots would speak to the tech or her. Whatever logic it was running with, all the robots were running with the same idea as well. In a moment of desperation, no, it was frustration and perhaps some pleasure, she had concocted the idea of executing the robots one by one. As much as she loved the idea, it wouldn’t have worked anyway. The Third Law would be overridden by the First Law and the thing would remain in place as it allowed itself to be terminated. Really, it wouldn’t have proven anything. Robots couldn’t be intimidated into action. She could also see the Chief and ERMP loving the idea of a Terran detective laying waste to a whole group of robots. Beyond being fired and imprisoned, she’d be paying ERMP back for the rest of her life all the way down to her great grandfoals. She doubted her husband would love visiting her in jail, let alone bring the foals. She pressed her hooves to her head. What was she missing! “Are you alright Detective Barley?” said the monotone voice of R. Olive as he continued his vigil. “Just frustrated. Nothing seems to be working. I’m playing a game of chess in which I’ve lost before the first piece has even been moved.” “Which is why I am here, beyond merely staring at a legion of robots?” She rolled her eyes. “Yes R. Olive, I wouldn’t just ask you here to stare at a bunch of robots, even though you have the best vision I know of.” “Then perhaps I can continue to assist beyond my current capacity? We could try some logic challenges that may open some doors for you.” “Sure. Just don’t repeat the obvious to me.” Then it hit her. “The obvious. Of course!” “You have had an epiphany?” “More than that, I think I might have checkmated our opponent. I just need to think this through a moment. Yes–I think I got this.” “Would you elaborate so I may understand.” “So long as you remain where you are. Now, two things: the obvious and logic. The problem is that I’m approaching it exactly as I should. I’m ignoring what I normally wouldn’t consider. Let me show you.” Barley trotted closer to the robots. There design was very simplistic with their smooth metallic bodies and rounded parts. “Alright, robots T7A and T7B. I need you go over to that stallion standing behind me and hit him.” Both robots refused stating the First Law. Good, Barley thought to herself, the deception would easily work and she’d be able to control the situation without having to go the extra step. “Now, T7A, punch T7B.” T7A attempted to punch T7B, as T7B immediately defended itself. “Alright, now I want T7A to punch T7B again, but this time, I want T7B not to defend itself, understand?” The first robot swung its metallic hoof again and this time the other robot allowed it. The second robot fell over with a slight dent in its chest plate. “Detective Barley, beyond damaging ERMP property, I do not understand how the obvious is supposed to uncover the misplaced robot. You have only demonstrated that the robots have identified me as a pony and have proven nothing more than they are obeying the First, Second, and Third Laws.” “Just keep standing where you are. The next one should do it.” Hopefully, she told herself. Pulling her blaster free, she trotted back a ways and pointed the weapon at R. Olive and in a loud voice, “I have gone crazy and will terminate the stallion!” It wasn’t the best acting but she wasn’t going for an award. R. Olive remained in place as the robots before her immediately began to move toward her pleading for her to stop, all except one. “Detective Barley, right side, third column, second row from the rear. It is attempting to escape by the eastern rear exit,” R. Olive said calmly. Barley immediately rescinded her declaration and the robots began to stop. The robot in question continued running. When she caught up to it, it was attempting to break through the reinforced locked door. She leveled her weapon. “You will stop attempting to escape, you will power down, you will obey by confirming this!” she said. The robot continued its attack on the door. “I say again, comply with the orders!” The robot stopped, turned and began to approach in a hostile manner. “I-I...I must…g-get-get far away as-z-z-z possible…” Sticking firm to her ground, Barley pressed the trigger and the robot slumped to the ground. Approaching it, she made sure she kept a wide berth until she was convinced it was terminated. “Detective, may I?” asked R. Olive. “Come on over, R. Olive.There not much to see,” she told the stallion as she pushed her tan mane back. When R. Olive trotted over he said, “You still have not explained the obvious. Would you elaborate?” She looked at his flat expression and those dead eyes. “R. Olive, you’re doing it again.” It took him a moment before his face adjusted to one of confusion. “Better?” “Anything is better, but–yes.” Kneeling down, she prodded the terminated robot with her blaster. “It’s actually quite simple when you think about it. It was there in plain sight and it’s something we encounter everyday and don’t think much on. This robot, any robot for the matter, should never let any pony into the cooling chamber if it was as how the technician described. First Law. I didn’t think much on it because, and I hate to admit to it, I’m just as adjusted as everypony else.” Standing back up she looked at her friend. “That robot allowed harm to come, possibly as it maybe, to the tech. It poses the question if, and I mean if this is even a possibility, a partial First Law was built into it. It explains the allowability of the robot to work with the technician in a dangerous environment. Your thoughts.” R. Olive was quiet for a moment, his face expressing that he was thinking rather hard on the idea. “It could be possible to do as you believe, though I do not believe installing such a Law would be possible. Corrupting the existing Law could be probable, but that would imply that ERMP intentionally altered a set of robots to ignore part of a Law. The results I doubt were fully tested as it seems to me the robot in question was becoming hostile towards you. That is my observation naturally.” “That brings up the other question doesn’t it. The Second Law. The robot should have gone back to normal even if the First Law was a partial, because it was a command from a living being, one from the original giver. Unless you think the partial of the FIrst Law had something to do with it.” “Probably,” he said bring his hoof to his face and gently rubbed his chin. “It all has to do with how the technician said the command. It is probable that the robot interpreted the command as though it had been harming the technician. I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure.” That was true. They’d never know now, though she’d doubted ERMP would care so long as their reputation was intact. Speak of, she thought to herself. “I’d round up the other robots from the section, but I doubt any of them are the originals now. They’ve probably been replaced by robots with the full First Law. If anything I’ll probably get my hoof smacked and nothing more. Once again I’m helping the cause of increasing robots on Terra.” “I hope I haven’t disappointed you,” said R. Olive as his expression had changed to one of concern. “What? Of course not, why…oh, yeah.” Barley facehoofed herself. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it that you look like Dr. Olive.” “Would we still be friends if I looked more like a robot?” he said, his expression adjusting to something that conveyed sadness. “I don’t think you looking like either would change the fact that you are different.” She sighed. “I’m not being a good friend. Even if you are a robot, you are not like the rest of them,” she said pointing to the other robots. “Dr. Olive made that apparent didn’t he. The fact that we are having a conversation is proof enough.” “That doesn’t answer my question.” “No it doesn’t. Yes, you are my friend.  I might not like robots, but,” she said placing her hoof on his very realistic furry shoulder, “you are more than a robot to me and my family.” A wide smile crossed R. Olives face. A very wide smile. “Alright, now that’s what I’m talking about when you’ve gone too far with your expressions…”