So this was it. A literal Do or Die.

Sam wrung his hands, as if trying to squeeze out all

the sweat on his palms. He never really got sweaty palms, but then again he had never been
so nervous either. He was one of the seven applicants who had agreed to face the final
interview in front of Alpha 1 for the most coveted and yet most despised position of all,
System Maintenance. The post had been held by some of the most intelligent men and
women in the past two centuries, people who held the keys in their hands to the entire world
and yet with enough strength of character to leave the doors locked. He heard steady
footsteps, almost like a terribly accurate metronome, approaching him and braced himself. He
straightened up, forced a smile on his face and tried to pretend the world was all sunshine and
butterflies. If only it was so easy.
It was one of the newer models that had been sent to summon him, the PAX100, a
humanoid robot with biometric capabilities and Artificial Social Intelligence, Sam knew the
stakes had just been doubled. ASI bots were never sent to summon people, they dealt with
lower level interviews. Sam could see the situation playing out in his head clearly, the ASI
would engage in small talk and then subtly try to intimidate him. The bot would then gauge
his body language and use neuro-linguistic programming to check if Sam was comfortable
around robots. The I-bots had no use for an insecure Sys Main Head. It could literally mean
the end of the world for them.
The ASI bot was a humanoid, with a rugby shaped head balanced precariously on top
of a cuboidal body with flimsy limbs. As the ASI had no use doing heavy manual labour, the
exoskeleton was simple metal and not the composite nanomaterial that was used in Artificial
Combat Intelligence bots. However, inspite of the weak appearance, the ASI was still
sstronger than any human and could not be taken out by anything other than another bot. This
was one of the reasons the rebels had had negligible success till now, inspite of whatever they
did, no matter how big a stone they threw, the dent was never big enough.
The bot walking towards him was a female. One of the quirks the bots dreamt of were
to paint half the robots pink and call them female bots and leave the other half white and call
those male bots. The underlying logic was that by removing the pronoun it associated with
the bots, they would sensitize humans towards bots and make them think of I-bots as persons
and not machines. Not a particularly smart move in retrospect, thought Sam, all the move did
was reinstate the difference I-bots had with humans and dig a deeper trench between the
rulers and the public.
The I-bot walked towards Sam and said, Hello, I am Irene and I will be your guide
today. I am afraid no unauthorized machines are allowed after this point so I must ask you to
remove all your electronic gadgets and submit them here in this box. Your belongings will be
sent to your home.
So, it begins, thought Sam. He noticed the cleverly disguised threat. The bot, sorry,
Irene, had just reminded Sam in passing that he might be dead in a few hours if he fails the
interview. The survival instinct of humans is the most potent emotion at their disposal. The
human brain would not miss this allusion and pump in more adrenaline into his system to get
his blood flowing and increase the supply to his vital organs for the possible fight or flight.
The resulting elevation of the heartbeat would be caught by Irenes biometric sensors and
would convey to her that Sam does not have a plan or a hidden gadget that might give him
some security that his life might be saved. The I-bots had found the perfect tool to look into
the minds of humans, their body. Sam obliged and thought of the accident he had had while
in college in vivid detail. He hoped the resulting elevation would satisfy Irene.
Sam removed his earpiece and eye monitor and put them into the tray. The earpiece
had been a gift from his 12 year old son. He had built it for his middle school project on his
own by reverse engineering an older model. It wasnt as efficient as the ones I-Corp made,
but Sam kept it for its sentimental value.
I am also wearing an epidural skeletal enhancement in my left leg. What do I do
about that? Sam enquired.
Okay, that complicates things! Well, I will then have to ask my friend from the AMI
sector to neutralize it temporarily. I hope you dont mind sitting on a wheelchair?
Considering no machines are allowed beyond here, it will have to be an ancient model.
Sam didnt. He had planned it this way. On a push wheel chair, the ASI wouldnt be
able to see Sams facial expressions and other micro signals his body may leak. His lies
would be this safe this way as long as he controlled his heart-rate accordingly and didnt let
his lips get dry or get nervous. The push wheel chair would also put the security I-bots at ease
considering they could rule out sabotage or something similarly radical from Sam. Only Sam
knew that if his plan succeeded, he wouldnt have to move from the chair at all.
15 minutes later, Sam was not so comfortably seated on the wheelchair and was being
wheeled towards the interview room. Sam guessed the walk was close to 15 minutes as it
gave the ASI more time to gauge his intentions and reactions. No reason was mentioned of
course, and Sam couldnt ask because that would trigger some alarms in the ASI. Paranoia
was one of the defining features of the I-Corp.
Sam recalled his history lessons from back in school. Though heavily edited and
propagandized, they did mention the basic fact that the I-Corp, the first and only Human
free company took over the control of the World during what they were taught to call the
Revolution close to 700 years ago. The economy was in shambles and the world was torn
apart by war back then. The I-Corp, scared of losing business probably, overtook UNO by
financial means and slowly and steadily set up puppet governments in all the countries, either
by canvassing and lobbying, or straight up violent dictatorship. Once they had covered the
important countries, they dissolved all governments and united the entire planet under one
union, known as The Earth. The countries that opposed or didnt have the puppet
governments were annexed. Now, I-Corp controlled all factions of life on the planet and the
rebellion was dying out as the quality of life had been better than ever. Freedom of Speech
and Press just didnt have a chance against omnipresent prosperity and eradication of poverty.
So Mr. Gillard, excited? Irene said in a voice that Sam suspected had been sampled
from a voice actress, or at least a phone sex worker.
You know it, Irene. I am as excited as the other guy. Sam replied smartly. It was a
close one. If he feigned excitement he would have failed miserably, excitement is one of the
hardest emotions to feign. If he expressed dismay, he would have been killed off for sure. By
keeping his answer ambiguous, he bought himself a few more moments.
I have seen your file Mr. Gillard. You are the strongest contender. Irene prodded
further, trying to detect any happiness or eagerness in Sam.
Well then Irene, lets hope the light at the end of the tunnel thinks so too. And call
me Sam. Sam quickly inserted the last line to neutralize the animosity he may have created
by his first sentence. ASI, irrelevant of how intelligent they maybe, were driven by
algorithms at the end of the day. If you knew the algorithms, you could beat the system. Sam
knew showing comradeship was a plus in an ASIs dictionary and would over-ride his earlier
sarcasm (or was it a pun?)
What does your family think about you taking up the job?
I cant say my wife was thrilled. My son was very happy though. I imagine I may
have skipped a few portions of the contract when narrating it to him. Sam smirked, thinking
about the clause that said that if he wasnt chosen for the job, he would have to be exiled
(which actually meant killed). No one knew the reason why though.
I see. How old is he?
12. I wish the position had opened up a few years ago. Its a lot harder for them.
Yes, I admit. An infants memory is a lot less detailed than a child. And children
usually take these things the hardest. But it is for them that you are doing it anyway.
Of course Sam smiled back, not daring to think about how easily did the I-bots
think they had convinced him that a job was worth leaving his only son sobbing on his
unmarked grave lest he gave himself away.
They spent a while in silence while Irene tried to feign sympathy. Sam didnt have to
feign his tears though. In the midst of the excitement, the plan, he had forgotten about little
Greg. He had forgotten to think what would happen to Greg if the plan didnt work. Not
financially, I-Corp would take care of his family with a handsome pension, but who would
teach Greg how to fish. Who would take him out to camps and roast marshmallows? Who
would Greg go to with his first zit or shaving nick?
Irene wheeled him in front of the room while Sam recounted incidents about Gregs
childhood. Sam felt it was a safe enough topic and he wouldnt have to simulate any
emotions during this. The entrance was a 3 door conveyor belt design and each door was
probably more than 5 feet thick and made of solid ceramic compounds. The doors were
strong enough to survive a nuclear fusion or an antimatter bomb dropped 100 feet from it.
Sam winced on thinking he was choosing to go in.
Sam was wheeled in by conveyor belts and was screened for weapons of every sort,
biological, organic, chemical, even the ancient physical ones. He could see the giant screen in
front of him getting larger by the second.