Fiona shot her husband a disgusted look. “Is this your way of saying you’d like to replace me with a robot?”
We—Greg, Fiona, Janie, Quinn, Matt, and I—were gathered around the long dining room table at Fiona and Greg’s. When Jack had mentioned to Fiona that Matt had stopped by, Fiona asked if I was okay with Matt coming over to share dinner. I was happy for him to join us as I was markedly curious about his artificial intelligence work.
Presently, the kids were asleep, and the conversation had finally turned to Matt’s research.
“Of course not, darling.” Greg’s tone was pacifying. “Everyone already knows you are a robot, well half robot. On your mother’s side.”
This earned him an amused glower from his wife.
“I, for one, will welcome our robot overlords.” I giggled from behind my cocktail as Fiona’s eyes shifted to mine. I might have had a little too much to drink.
“Don’t encourage him,” she said.
“I think we should encourage him,” Janie piped up unexpectedly, an odd edge in her voice. “Think about it. Really think about it, all the people out there without partners, for whatever reason. Or growing up with parents indifferent to their children.”
“Exactly.” Matt hit the table with his palm. “Clearly, this woman is brilliant.”
This comment earned him a glare from Quinn, who was infamously territorial with his wife and had become more so during Janie’s pregnancy.
Janie arched her back, pressing her fingertips into the base of her spine. I felt so sad for her, clearly she was terribly uncomfortable. “I don’t think you have to be brilliant to grasp the practical applications of an AI focused on providing compassion.”
“So the answer is to stop looking for a partner? To stop expecting people to be good parents? To give up on humanity?” Fiona glanced between Janie and Matt.
“Why is it giving up?” Matt countered softly, not arguing; rather, he sounded curious, interested in Fiona’s opinion.
“Because you’re substituting a robot for a human. Robots make no demands, have no feelings. You can’t be challenged—to be better, to be more—by a robot.”
Greg cut in thoughtfully, “Not to play devil’s advocate—”
At this, we all scoffed. All of us. Even Quinn. Synchronized eye-rolling.
Greg clutched his chest and turned an offended look on his wife. “Et tu, Fiona? Et. Tu.”
“Please.” Fiona gave her husband a dry look. “You have an honorary degree in advocacy for the devil from Harvard.”
“And you passed the bar in the sixth circle of hell.” Matt grinned.
“Just get on with it,” Quinn mumbled under his breath, encouraging Janie to turn slightly in her chair so he could rub her lower back.
“Fine.” Greg pinched his lips together and sniffed, clearly attempting to appear offended. The effect was ruined by the mischievous twinkle in his eye. “As I was saying, not to play devil’s advocate, but isn’t a vibrator more or less a robot?”
Quinn gritted his teeth and quietly seethed, clearly irritated or made uncomfortable by the direction of the conversation.
“No,” I scoffed, wrinkling my nose.
“Why not?” he asked. “It is a machine, is it not? It’s programmed with settings. It has an on/off switch. Just because a vibrator doesn’t have a face doesn’t mean it’s not a robot. The fact is, women have already been in flagrante delicto with robots. For years.”
The room plunged into a contemplative silence where many brows were furrowed.
Greg continued his thought, his tone more thoughtful and serious than before. “The fact is, robots have been quietly replacing humans since the industrial revolution. To me, this seems like the next logical step.”
“How have robots been replacing humans?” Fiona countered.
“Manufacturing, for one.”
“Companionship and car manufacturing are not the same,” she persisted. “You could never replace highly-skilled labor with a robot.”
“You say that, ex-CIA, but the government’s drone program is thriving. Robots are already doing the job of the military’s skilled assassins, without the risk to US soldiers.” Greg’s response was matter-of-fact, yet tinged with an unmistakable hint of discontent.
“Did you know Japan has already been using robots to solve their nursing shortage?” Matt asked quietly.
“What?” Fiona made a face.
“It’s true.” Janie tilted her neck to one side as Quinn’s hands moved to her shoulders. “They call it Terapio, and it’s doing many of the tasks—albeit, lower-level tasks—required of a registered nurse.”
Matt nodded at Janie’s statement. “Gamble is working on a similar model for the USA.”
“Didn’t you used to work for Gamble?” Fiona eyed Matt.
“Yes,” Matt confirmed. “In fact, they want me to—”
Quinn exhaled impatiently. “Let’s get back to why Japan is replacing nurses with robots.”
“Ah, yes. An aging population with a low birthrate means they don’t have enough nurses and caregivers to support the needs of the elderly. In addition to Terapio, they also have—and I’m not making this up—Robear, a robot with a bear face that replaces caregiver tasks in nursing homes.”
“Why a bear face?” Quinn asked, his hands stilling on Janie’s back, confused curiosity wrinkling his forehead.
“They said they wanted to project an air of friendliness and cleanliness, and I guess the cute bear face does the job.” Matt shrugged, adding, “But replacing humans in the labor force isn’t the only use for robots. Robot companions—on a much less complex scale than what I’m hoping to develop—already exist.”
Janie pointed at Matt excitedly. “Like Buddy, right? The family robot companion. I want one of those.”
“You do?” Quinn leaned to one side, studying his wife’s profile. “Why?”
“They’re neat,” she said.
“Neat,” Quinn echoed flatly.
“It’s like a combination of WALL-E, R2-D2, and Siri,” Matt explained. “The practical applications are limitless. It can replace all the other little robots you already use or are planning on using. A security system, a baby monitor, a fire and CO2 detector, a phone, a camera, a video camera, a thermostat, power switch, a resource for at-your-fingertips information and interface to the Internet. As well as an interface for your other robots—like ovens and refrigerators—it responds to voice command. And when your children get older, it can interact with them, entertain them, and help with their homework. One of the future upgrades will allow it to play hide-and-seek.”
Greg turned to Fiona, his eyes wide, his mouth open. “Why don’t we have a Buddy?”
“I’m not getting a Buddy,” she responded flatly. “We don’t need it.”
“But it’s neat,” he argued. “We don’t need a dog, but you want one of those. Instead we could get a robot.”
“They have robot dogs.” Matt was grinning again, his eyes moving between Fiona and Greg.