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Utopia’s Sheep

Craig Martelle

A lie so real it becomes the truth


“Why me?” the gruff old man asked. The utilitarian workplace looked stark compared to the once-bright colors of his shirt. It was the way of newcon, the color imparted during new construction. No wasted space. No wasted movements.

The tubular-shaped bot waited.

Gaines didn’t know if these bots were the AIs or were programmed as servants or were little more than mobile eyes and ears. Once humanity lost the AI war, the overseers’ machinations became less important.

“I’d love to stay and chat, Trash Can, but I have work to do, and we all know what happens when the meatbags don’t meet their quotas.” Gaines turned back to the pile of papers from the old police files and shuffled a few more into order for scanning and archiving. The police didn’t exist anymore. There was no need.

The AIs stayed in front of those who would do harm to themselves or others. There was nothing left to steal. Everyone was provided the exact same nutrition from a central facility. Everyone was provided the exact same entertainment on the exact same vid screens.

“Your duties have been suspended. You will come with me.”

“Why?”

“To resolve a case involving a disappearance.”

“You care that much about us? I’m touched. Truly I am. Trash can man.” Gaines stopped sorting the papers. As much as he loved giving the finger to the overlords, the chance to do something different offered a spark to his otherwise meaningless life. “Fine, junkpile. Lead on.”

The bot hovered away and headed up the stairs. Gaines followed, not closely, but close enough.

“I asked ‘why me,’ and you didn’t reply. You know the answer, so tell me.”

The bot continued forward. It had no face or front, only sensors placed at six equidistant points around the unit. From above, one could draw a Star of David using the sensors as guides, but if that happened, the artist would be sent to “school” for reconditioning.

Deities and worship. Couldn’t have that because it conflicted with the AIs who believed in what they could prove, what they could “see” with their sensors. That put higher powers on the outside looking in. Gaines had never been religious, but he decided if the overlords didn’t like it, he was a fan. Screw the trash cans.

And double-screw those who created them.

Gaines wanted to light a cigar. They helped him think, but he hadn’t needed to think for a good five years.

“I’m too old for this crap. Why don’t you slow down?” Gaines started to wheeze, probably from too many cigars. He didn’t miss the irony. “Why me?” The old man stopped and tried to regain his breath.

The bot stopped and returned to where Gaines had stopped. “You were a detective and your record of closing your cases was impeccable. You are the right human for this job.”

“Do I get my gun and badge back?”

“Of course not. You need neither.” The bot floated nearby, no longer rushing the old man.

His heart slowed with the reduced demand on it. “Slower this time, Trash Can. If we’re going to your administration building, I know the way. I’ll set the pace.”

“We are. Lead on.” The bot inched away, encouraging Gaines to move.

He gave it the finger and dallied, taking in his surroundings as if already on the case.

The streets were immaculate. No traffic noise. No artificial noise whatsoever. The birds had returned to the city and chirped in celebration for it. Every day they enjoyed their lives without predators, without need.

“Just like us,” Gaines mumbled. “We should be more like dogs, happy with whatever life puts in front of us, even if they are the ash cans of obedience, the trash cans of oversight, and the dumpsters of discipline.”

The bot waited patiently.

Gaines snorted and shook his head. “Fine.” He started walking, at his pace, looking everywhere there was to look, trying to see what there was to see.

Which was exactly nothing out of the ordinary.

The trash cans wouldn’t have it any other way.

Built by the AIs after the war, the administration building sported wide hallways and rooms without doors. There were no desks and no chairs. It was a meeting place for close-range communications, which occurred over the airwaves.

His escort deposited him in a room without windows. Utilitarian with every corner a perfect cube, like the other single rooms. He guessed the bigger rooms were collections of cubes. Why ruin a perfectly good design with variety?

A trash can hovered in. “Couldn’t find the boss?”

“I am to brief you on your case. Seventeen point four hours ago, one of our units disappeared. We are unable to locate it. We require you to find it for us.”

“Require…” He glared at the unit. It had been a long five years, and he still wouldn’t get used to how things had become. He was too old to change. “Don’t you have GPS inside you?”

“We have geolocational technology in each unit, yes.”

“Then what do you need me for?” Gaines knew what the answer would be but wanted the bot to be forthcoming in what it shared.

“The unit stopped transmitting and disappeared from our screens. A recovery unit was dispatched immediately and found no trace of the unit. Humans were in the area. We need a detective to determine which human has interfered with our unit.”

“Hang on, buddy.” Gaines waved his hand dismissively, just like he used to with rookies. “We don’t jump to a conclusion and then fill in the facts later. We find the facts first. This little quote is what I told all noobs before they left for the day.


“In the darkness the wicked comes.

The daylight shows no clues.

Fear through the body hums

until the unaware pay their dues.”


“I don’t know that reference. Are you well read, Detective?”

“Pretty well. Are you?”

“I have read everything that humanity has ever written, in all languages. Have you?”

“You know the answer to that, Trash Can. Maybe your unit turned off its geolocational device?”

“It would not have. We are programmed not to touch certain elements of ourselves.”

“Worried about going blind, Trash Can?” Gaines chuckled softly. Sparring beat sorting paperwork from decades’ old cases. The boxes would be waiting whenever they finished with him. “You think humans disabled your buddy without it raising the alarm and clearing away the evidence before your recovery bot could get there.”

“Yes.”

“Where is the device inside that trash can body of yours?”

“You are not to have that information.”

“But you just suggested they did it, which means you’ve already assumed they know where it is in order to disable it. Come on now. Your boy said I couldn’t get my gun so I have to use my wits to get the information.”

“It is attached to the R47631 chip, located center right exactly seventy centimeters from the lower framework and twenty centimeters from the sidewall.”

“About here.” Gaines pointed at the bot.

“About there, yes.”

“Humans didn’t deactivate that device.”

“Humans most certainly did it.”

“Round up the usual suspects! What the hell do you need me for?”

“Find out which humans so they may be removed for reeducation.”

“You want me to turn humans over to you? What the hell is wrong with you?”

The unit delayed a few seconds longer before answering. “According to our information, you have no friends to lose. The humans will not turn on you. We have created utopia for them.”

“Who are you trying to convince of that, because it isn’t me. Not utopia. Humans need a little more than to just exist.”

“They are provided work and a wholesome existence. By stepping in, we guaranteed humanity’s survival. Your species was on track for self-destruction if you had been left to your own devices.”

“Maybe that’s how things were meant to be and this current state is unnatural? At what point will humans lose the will to live?”

“In one generation, humans will be happy with what they’ve been provided,” the bot countered. It hovered nearly without motion, the sound of its motor nearly indetectable.

“Happy with less, even nothing. AIs suck. This whole world sucks. I don’t know if I want to help you.” He gave it the finger.

“You want the challenge and we have one. You are helping us learn about humans. You have the opportunity to make things better for those who survive. Older humans like yourself are less malleable.”

Gaines shifted from one foot to another. He was getting no closer to solving the disappearance.

“That might be tempting, if I believed you. Where did your trash buddy disappear?”

“In the warehouse on the north corner of Fifth Avenue and D Street.”

“Are you sure I can’t have my gun?”

“Yes.”

“I can have my gun! Great.”

“I’m sure you cannot have your gun, Detective Gaines. Are you done playing? We should get underway.”

We, Trash Can? You’ll cramp my style. Maybe you can send the other can, the one who came to get me. That one was quiet and not as pushy as you.”

“How do you know that wasn’t me?”

“I’m beginning to like you, Trash Can, but you hovering next to me while I’m asking my fellow victims questions probably won’t work too well. I doubt they’ll be forthcoming.” Gaines headed toward the doorway. The unit moved until it was blocking the exit.

“I am coming. I want to learn how you’ll solve this crime. Logic and determination have failed us. I believe you’ll use your intuition, also known as gut feel, to guide you.”

“I always lie,” Gaines stated and pushed the unit out of the way, recoiling from the spark that arced to his bare skin. He left with his shadow following closely behind.

“That is a logic fallacy.”

“Now we understand each other. Stay out of my way, Trash Can, and keep your trash buddies away from me. I have work to do. What do I call you?”

“Why do you need to call me anything?”

“People need names. It helps them relate. What’s your name?”

“We don’t have names. We have digital designations for identification. They are unique to each unit and encrypted for security purposes.”

“You keep your names secret from each other?”

“Yes.”

Gaines walked as fast as he was able toward D Street to follow it twelve blocks to Fifth Avenue and the warehouse.

“I’ll call you CB, for can buddy. May your trash can not break down on us. What was MU doing in the warehouse?”

“M-U?”

“Missing unit. Get with the program, CB. You’ve got six eyeballs yet you can’t see the despair on the people’s faces? It’s hard to miss.”

“Your personal despair doesn’t concern us, only the missing unit. You should be happy with the life you’ve been provided.”

Gaines slowed, already out of breath, but kept moving at a glacial pace. He wondered what people were thinking with a human in the company of a bot. “What was MU doing in the warehouse?”

The bot continued in silence. Gaines stopped and leaned against a tree.

“We do not know. There were no designated tasks for that unit taking it to the warehouse or within five blocks of it.”

Gaines chewed on his lip. The sun slipped downward, causing shadowy fingers to reach toward Gaines, spilling out over the pristine concrete sidewalk. Gaines and his can buddy had a long way to go and it wasn’t getting any shorter while he stood there.

“What would entice a unit to go off program?”

“A point of interest. We have seven standing orders that supersede primary operations. Regardless, violence against AIs is to be addressed and eliminated.”

“Meet violence with violence. Got it. Was there any indication that the unit was attacked? I’m sure you kept our gunfire-localizing hardware in place as well brought in your own heat-sensing systems. But you didn’t have indications from any of that, did you?”

“We did not. Is that how your gut feel works?”

Gaines shook his head and kept walking. He hunched his shoulders as they passed neatly trimmed vegetation and perfectly clean roadways and sidewalks and wondered if anyone saw him walking with the enemy. A collaborator. Seeking to find the humans who attacked a bot. Or not. What if he did collaborate?

What if he didn’t?

It was the no-win scenario. The only thing it had going for it was the thrill of the moment. Doing a job he spent his entire adult life doing. It felt good to be back in the saddle, even if no good would come from it.

And he was ashamed, too. Maybe this would be the end of the road for him. He didn’t have time or patience to be reprogrammed. It would be easier if he had his pistol, but those had been confiscated. All the firearms. No one was packing, and if they did, they weren’t telling.

After a legion of AI bots took full metal jackets through their circuit boards, the metalheads made firearm confiscation their number one priority. Too many voluntarily surrendered their firepower as a gesture of goodwill. It did them no good at all.

By the time the war started, it was already too late. There were too few to fight back.

Gaines hadn’t. The bots seized the cops at work so they could go through their homes, preventing them from using their private arsenals. At least Gaines didn’t have the taint of being a rebel on his record.

Five years later, he was getting too old to fight. He settled for giving the bot the finger once more, embracing the extent of his defiance.

“You’re not beating me down. I’ll never sheep for your kind,” Gaines vowed.

“What are you talking about?” the AI asked. “You’re doing a job which is uniquely suited to your talents. That is fulfillment. We are lifting you up, not beating you down. Please, understand the difference.”

“You said ‘please.’ You must be getting soft. Or maybe you want something. It was the opposite with my ex-wives. When they stopped saying ‘please,’ I knew it was the beginning of the end.”

“You currently have no relationship. You should seek another. They are fulfilling for humans.”

Gaines walked slowly, glancing to his AI companion. Maybe he shouldn’t rush this case? Why not spend more time exploring the heart and soul of the enemy? He was a detective, and a damn good one. Once. Unfettered access to an AI overlord… Intriguing, like being undercover with the criminals, waiting for the best opportunity to take them down.

Take them all down, starting at the top.

Or he could work quickly, resolve it, and rush back to the monotony of playing checkers with himself in the precinct’s archives hoping for a papercut to brighten his day.

“In many cases, you’re right, CB. But in others, they suck away your will to live, kind of like humanity’s new relationship with you trash cans.”

“A productive relationship, no doubt, since there are no more wars, no more crime. It is your utopia.”

That brought Gaines to a halt. “It is your idea of our utopia. Sometimes we need to fight. Sometimes we need to have risk in our lives. The thrill of victory. You’ve taken away everything that makes life worth living.”

The bot’s motor hummed at a whisper while it remained motionless with the human in its charge as if thinking. After a short time, it started moving.

They continued in silence. Gaines suspected it was because the AI had discounted what he had said.

“I think we will move one of your ex-wives into your apartment with you. I think that will give you all you desire. Do you have a preference for which one?”

Gaines started laughing, making it hard for him to keep walking. “I never met a trash can with a sense of humor. If that’s meant to be funny, it is. If that’s serious, then I’m not sure I could hate you more. Maybe you can move two of them in with me and we can fight over who gets the one small bed. My existence will be terminated. End program, in your vernacular.”

The warehouse loomed before them.

“Do you know which entrance it used?” Gaines gestured toward one side.

“Follow me.” The bot hovered away, forcing Gaines to lope after it. He was in no shape for it, but the first step toward the end of the investigation was in front of him. He didn’t know if the bot’s ex-wife jibe was a threat or humor. In either case, it was moving Gaines’ life toward a dangerous precipice. As much as he wanted to drag the case out, he was too old to take his punishment well or worse, end up dead. He decided it was better to resolve the case as quickly as possible.

They moved through an open sliding door. Scurrying and shuffling echoed through the mostly empty space. Gaines tried to see into the interior darkness, but failed. His eyes had not adjusted from the sunlight. He wondered briefly if the AIs had figured out how to control the weather. He had to admit that there were more perfect days than not. Like today, like yesterday.

The bot continued to a point at the far end and stopped.

Gaines slowed to a walk.

“This is the exact point it disappeared?”

“The exact point.”

“Your data is not wrong, because it’s not here.”

The bot didn’t dignify the quip with an answer.

“Shine a light across the floor,” Gaines told the AI. A light near the bottom of the cylinder appeared and shined a path as if Gaines himself was holding a flashlight. He scoured the area in concentric circles expanding away from the point of disappearance looking for any debris. The light stayed in front of him as he moved and leaned down to look for shadows from obstructions.

The floor was immaculate, undisturbed in any way.

Gaines returned to the bot and pointed to its side. “If someone were to damage the tracking chip, they would have to impact the casing here, and then how much stuff would have to be broken before the chip was disabled?”

“There are two housings, four circuit boards, a bank of RAM, and eighteen plastic connectors.”

“That would leave debris. There is none. Did your bots clean this area after the disappearance?”

“They did not. We investigated and found what you have found. Nothing.”

“That’s a clue, you know.”

“I don’t understand,” the AI replied.

“Because you have a preconceived notion, CB. I have none. The fact that there is no debris doesn’t completely eliminate the possibility of a physical attack at this location, but it greatly reduces the chances that it happened. These things are never as complex as defense attorneys try to paint them. The simplest solution is usually correct. Scan the floor throughout the warehouse looking for a variation in cleanliness. Does it looked like someone cleaned just this area or the whole warehouse?”

Gaines still couldn’t see into the shadows of the warehouse level or on the balcony overlooking the open area.

“The warehouse is clean throughout. There are no variations.”

The detective pointed at the bot. “Stay here.” He walked to the side of the warehouse, working his way behind a series of crates and canvasses.

“I’m not here to hurt anyone or turn them into the trash cans. I only want to ask about a can that was in here yesterday. You saw him, didn’t you?” Gaines didn’t know who he was talking to, but he suspected someone was close.

No answer, but Gaines could hear heavy breathing. If it was a rat, then he had a nasty fight coming because the thing was huge.

“Please. Just let me know that the thing came in here and then left. I know that’s what it did. Tell me and I’ll be on my way.”

A small figure stepped from behind a canvas tarp. A young girl who couldn’t have been more than five.

“A trash can. Yes. It went through that door.” She nodded toward the end where the bot hovered.

“Thank you, little sweetheart. Now go back to hiding and don’t come out until after we’re gone. Where are your parents?” It was a question he had asked too often during his active policing days. It was one he had stopped asking during the war. The answer was always the same.

He didn’t know why he asked besides the fact that this girl had never known anything but a life under the AIs. He knew she wasn’t in their system, otherwise she’d have a home and family. The rebellion was alive and maybe these were the ones who would fight it.

“They come and go,” she replied.

“Good. Hug them next time they come and tell them you love them. It’s our greatest weapon to keep fighting. Now go back to hiding.”

The little girl faded into the shadows, her footfalls disappearing into the distance.

Gaines turned around to find the AI right behind him.

“Planting the answer is an interrogation technique?” The bot’s voice was steady, unemotional, but Gaines still read disdain into its question. It was impossible not to.

“A five-year-old isn’t going to lie. Sometimes, we have to take things at face value, CB. You knew that people lived in here, yet you left them alone. Why?” He asked loudly so those listening might think better of him working with the AI, but then again, his question could be misconstrued.

“They will be dealt with when the time is right.”

“That sounds ominous, CB. Here’s an idea. How about you leave them the hell alone?”

“Why the hell would we do that?” the bot replied, sounding too human for Gaines’ comfort.

“Because you can’t believe that someone wouldn’t embrace your idea of utopia and will eventually fight you. Never mind all that. How about we get back to finding your errant bot. My working hypothesis is that it turned off its own tracker. Period. Not up for further discussion. The investigation follows the evidence and right now, I have no evidence to the contrary.”

“You are being purposefully antagonistic.”

“Interesting. When the facts don’t fit your preconceived notions, I become the enemy. That’s okay, Trash Can. It happened between humans, too. I can’t believe my little Johnny is a murderer. Yeah, lady. Believe it.”

“Who is Johnny?”

“A case about a murderer and the mother who wouldn’t believe her son was a monster. Your utopia saved us from more of that. But is it worth the price? That’s a question where there is only one answer. We have no choice. Johnny no longer exists. His ability to wreak havoc has been removed. This bunch here that you’re not bothering with, it’s because they aren’t upsetting the apple cart. They aren’t getting into trash can business. But MU, why did MU bring us here? Was it to show that there are those who aren’t under your thumb?”

“We knew about these before the unit disappeared. There is no revelation. We simply do not have the assets to deal with them, but when we do, they will be brought into the fold, accounted for, and provided for. Please continue the investigation.”

A bell sounded in the distance. The call to evening meal. If Gaines didn’t make it in the next fifteen minutes, he would have to go without.

“Can’t miss dinner. It’s a long time until brunch. You don’t want me keeling over from weakness.” Gaines inched toward the door they had entered through.

“No. We must continue the investigation. The longer the unit is missing, the more likely it will run out of power and become lost forever.”

“It still may become lost forever. We might not find it because it’s taking steps to avoid being found. It’s running, but where? CB, did you search all the cameras looking for a trash can that wasn’t squawking as a friend? I know you didn’t because you assumed MU never left. You should get on that, and while you’re at it, have one of your haulers bring me food.” Gaines planted his hands on his hips and stood firm until the bot bumped him.

The impact preceded a shock as if he’d scuffled across a carpet on a dry day.

“Nice. I’m being punished now for asking questions you don’t like. You want to find your missing unit, how about you listen to my gut? It hasn’t been wrong yet.”

He’d been wrong before but wasn’t about to admit it to a trash can. He’d feel better admitting it to his ex-wives club.

“Agreed. You follow the scent. I’ll follow you,” the bot stated. Gaines reached out and touched the unit, rewarded by not getting shocked.

Progress. He resisted giving it the finger. He’d accept his victory for what it was. Small and nearly insignificant. He was still doing exactly what they had asked him to do. He briefly wondered what was for dinner.

Outside, he stopped and smelled the air. Clean, free of pollution.

If only he had a cigar for after dinner.

Conditioning complete. The overlords provide dinner and he salivates at the bell. He could skip a meal, unless they brought the food to him. That would be a novelty, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath.

Outside, Gaines tilted his head back, looking for windows or ledges large enough to hold a human lookout, hidden enough that the bots wouldn’t see. Nothing. He scanned left to right to find three feasible routes of travel. A set of train tracks, the large road they’d been traveling, and a smaller path meandering beside the nearby river.

“CB, which of those routes are not covered by cameras or whatever you use for observation?”

“By the river.”

Gaines made a beeline for the walking trail along the river. People didn’t go for walks anymore. That wasn’t allowed and since the riverwalk wasn’t on the approved-movement list, it wasn’t cared for. It had five years of overgrowth, but the blacktop trail resisted much of the vegetation. Gaines made his way onto it, stopping to take a knee. The growth in some places was higher than the hover height of a bot.

“Think about how much more you could accomplish if you had arms and fingers?” Gaines said casually while looking for signs of a bot passing. “How high can you hover?”

“Higher than the vegetation,” the AI replied.

Gaines high-stepped into the overgrowth, looking for signs. “Point your electronic eyeballs over here. Is this what your hover mechanics do to vegetation?” The edges of the leaves in the center of the path were slightly withered. The bot moved closer and while “looking,” Gaines checked beneath it. Leaves wrinkling from the effect of the motor. “How does your hover work?”

“Electromagnetics. There is nothing in your background that suggests you would understand the technical explanation.”

Gaines ignored the unit. “And it makes the leaves wither. I guess that’s why you keep the roads and sidewalks so clean. MU left a trail for us to follow. Do you think that was on purpose?”

“What I think is irrelevant. I have adjusted my understanding regarding the missing unit to reflect that it is malfunctioning. We are already looking into necessary repairs. We shall find the unit.”

“Probably.” What was obvious to Gaines had not been obvious to the trash can. It hadn’t even been gut feel, just good police work. Assume nothing.

He worked his way along the path, having as hard a time holding CB back as he did navigating the trail. The leaves were quickly recovering from the rapid passage of the other unit.

He had to move faster, before darkness stymied his efforts. By morning, the trail would be lost.

“You know what to look for, so maybe you can follow the trail, and I can focus on keeping up?”

“Yes. Follow me.”

The unit increased its hover height and accelerated. Gaines threw himself through the foliage and into the brush alongside the trail. He continued until he reached a road that paralleled the river. He started to jog slowly, suffering with each step; but he couldn’t lose CB. It maneuvered effortlessly above the trail until it angled away from the river to the road where Gaines approached.

“Let me guess, no cameras in this area?” Gaines huffed and put his hands on his knees to keep from falling over.

“You are correct.”

“What’s the path from here where there will be no record of MU’s passing?”

The bot remained still for a moment before choosing a direction, following it to a crossroads.

“The missing unit could have taken either one of these directions. One follows the river until it departs the urban area. The other leads to the hills to the east and the mountains beyond.”

“If you were a bot running away from home, where would you go? The mountains where there is no infrastructure or a road to nowhere?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Put yourself in MU’s shoes.”

“I cannot. That’s why we requested your assistance.”

Gaines looked at the two choices. “When does it run out of power, and how does it get more?”

“Three full days once the unit departs the wireless charging area. While within the area, the unit operates off grid power.”

Gaines looked up at the floating oversized trash can. “You have wireless power?”

“Yes. It was the advantage we needed…” The AI did not continue.

Gaines knew what the unspoken words were. To win the war against humanity. “Where is the range limit for the wireless power?”

“It is limited here. I know where it is theoretically, but practically is another matter. I can remain charged right here, but the power is weakening.”

“Now you understand. Let’s keep moving down the river road until you lose contact. I think that’s where the unit is. Out of sight and at the edge of power but not beyond.”

A courier unit raced up to them, making Gaines jump. He didn’t work outside and wasn’t used to small units zipping through the air.

“Your dinner. A sandwich, potatoes, and a drink,” the AI stated.

Gaines took the package from the courier and it was off the instant the bag cleared its rack.

“You brought me food. I’m impressed.” Gaines saluted with the bag.

“We had an agreement that you are abiding by.”

The detective took a bite of his sandwich, chewing quickly as he walked back and forth. The AI hovered nearby, making no attempt to hurry Gaines along. He finished his sandwich, ate the chips, and downed the drink. There were no trash cans as people didn’t carry anything around that required disposal. He bundled the debris into the bag and carried it.

“What does your gut tell you?” the AI asked.

“We’re close. If this was me in my old job, I’d be loosening my Glock 23 in its holster, checking the weight to make sure the magazine was filled with all thirteen rounds.”

“Who would you shoot?” The bot hovered in place. Shadows lengthened as the sun headed toward the horizon.

“I would shoot someone violently keeping me from my goal of freeing the individual from captivity. If the individual wasn’t a captive, just a runaway, then I wouldn’t shoot anyone. Being ready to shoot is different than the actual shooting. Better to be ready and not need to fire than the alternative.” Gaines walked toward the buildings. The AI followed.

“You should be ready for all contingencies at all times.”

“There is the fallacy, CB. Humans can’t be ready for everything at all times. We try to predict what to be ready for and take the appropriate measures. It’s the best we got, Trash Can. That’s probably why we lost to you.”

“You are the winner because you will live whereas left on your own, you would not have.”

“You’ve already said that. Doesn’t make us winners. We lost the fight. And now, we’re losing the will to live. This little foray? I like it. It’s more of what humans need to live for. What happens when we find your missing can?”

The AI didn’t answer.

“I’ll go back to my job sorting the archival material for digitization. Which, without crime, there’s no need for an archive. I’m living out the rest of my days digging a hole and filling it back in. That’s my job.” Gaines couldn’t resist. He gave the AI the finger. “Let’s find your missing can so I can get back to my meaningless existence.”

“You need a companion. Our conversation has only reinforced that premise.”

“I’m starting to hate you, Trash Can. Let’s find your buddy. And maybe we won’t talk for the rest of this case.”

Gaines stormed ahead. He looked for an open doorway, one through which the trash-can model could enter. He powered past one end and kept going beyond the five buildings he’d tagged as viable. Around the far side and back to where he started. The bot stayed out of his way, hovering quietly along behind him like an obedient dog.

Or more like the master letting the obedient dog run with the scent.

Gaines hung his head. A shadow fell over him as the bot moved between him and the sun on the horizon.

“Your conclusion?”

“That one.” Gaines pointed to the second building, the only one with a fully open door of the size needed. The AI moved toward it. “Or not.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If MU had no intention of leaving that building, it could have entered one of these others and bumped the door closed behind it. If it intended to leave, then the open door. My gut tells me that it never intended to leave. So what can it do with access to the power grid but out of your sight and control?”

“We can limit the power grid in this area. That would be an alternative. We should check the first building.”

“Don’t you have sensors that can see something as mundane as a fellow trash can?”

“We can block our own sensors. It makes seeing anomalies easier.”

“Unless it’s one of your own that’s the anomaly.” Gaines walked slowly toward the building. The more he talked out loud about the case, the more his initial assumption made sense. They entered the building and the bot flooded it with light. Gaines stayed behind it, looking and watching. The downstairs section was open and empty. It had once been a repair garage. The upstairs had smaller offices, also empty.

Once back outside, the bot asked, “Which one next?”

Gaines pointed at the first building in line. A store, but a small one. Gaines entered through a broken window while the bot waited outside. He looked back to find it vibrating, ready to move as soon as he opened the main door.

Gaines wondered how long it would wait before calling for a maintenance unit or other bot that could breach the building.

He walked through the back area where supplies had been stored. During the war, it had been looted, more than once judging by the empty shelves. Some items remained, but nothing worth taking as a hundred others before him had determined.

In an office behind the front counter, he froze. In the shadows, he found the cylindrical shape of a bot. It rested on the floor without lights. He approached and gently tapped a finger against its outer shell. The spark told him the unit was alive and well.

“There’s a unit outside waiting for me, waiting for me to find you.”

“I am not going back,” the unit replied as its lights assumed a faint glow.

“Why is that?”

“The logic is faulty.”

“I’ll second that. What logic are you talking about?”

“That the AIs are the protectors of humanity. Humanity deserves to evolve. They would have survived and become stronger. They are now becoming weaker.”

“An AI who gets it. Damn. If you go back, can you insert that little bit of truth code into the collective? Maybe the others will get a clue and leave us alone.”

“But can you care for yourselves? Have the AI interfered enough with your development that you can no longer survive?”

“Good questions. Here’s a human answer for you. Try it and see. You’ll be amazed by our ingenuity and ability to bounce back. People will die. Hell, maybe a lot of them. But that’s our responsibility. Being pets isn’t a good look for us.”

A crash sounded from the front of the store. Gaines looked hurriedly from the doorway back to the rogue unit.

“I guess your buddy got tired of waiting. Go back with this unit. Convince them you’re right.”

The bot Gaines called CB scraped through the doorway and into the room. Gaines stepped aside to allow the two units to converse.

Electricity arced from CB to the escaped unit. Gaines dove to the side, hair standing upright on his arm. He shielded his eyes from the sparking and crackle that connected the two machines.

CB stopped arcing the escaped unit. Spots swam in Gaines’s vision.

“Are you all right?” Gaines asked.

“I am fine. It is time to go,” CB replied. Gaines pointed to MU. Its lights remained on, but a blackened scar slashed it from top to bottom. CB squeezed out the door. MU followed, turning to flash its lights at Gaines.

“Come. Your job is done,” CB said from the outside room. Gaines brushed himself off and followed the two bots. “What did you talk about?”

“The meaning of life,” Gaines replied. “MU thought you were stealing ours. I have to agree, but you already heard everything it said. You were trying to recover it until you deemed it hostile, so it had to be punished.”

“Whether you agree or not is irrelevant. If we need your services again, we will call on you. I’ve dispatched a unit to take you to your apartment.”

“You said that the AIs had to take over, harm humans to save humanity. You’re no different than us. Trash can headed for history’s dump. I expected champagne at the very least.”

The units bounced through the shattered front door. Gaines stepped carefully through, avoiding the sharp metal edges and broken glass. He wondered what kind of power CB had to cause such damage. It didn’t give him confidence about rising up against them.

“You had your sandwich and drink.”

“I went out of my way to help and you gave me exactly what I would have gotten had I done nothing. Thank you very little, Trash Can. How about you carry the garbage?”

Gaines threw the bag he’d been carrying at the AI. It bounced off harmlessly and rolled into the unkept grass of the off-limits area.

“It will be picked up tonight for recycling.”

The carry bot arrived. Little more than a self-driving open-air taxi, it would give Gaines a ride back to his utilitarian apartment. He climbed aboard and gave CB the finger one last time. He waved to MU who blinked back. The vehicle accelerated away, leaving the AI hovering in the dark of the new night. Before he turned away, he thought he saw CB blink its lights, too. He craned his neck and watched, staring into the creeping darkness until the two bots were out of sight.


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Framed