Kerri looked thoughtfully at the robot standing across the room. What an odd machine it was. It had been two weeks since Cliff had brought it over and presented it to her one night. It had been a planned surprise, and all the guys had been in on it. Every one of them had had their eyes glued to her face as Cliff had stepped aside to allow the robot to walk into the room at his direction. It was completely unexpected.
"Ta-da!" they'd all chorused.
Kerri had slapped her hand over her mouth and squealed with delight, hopping up and down. Peter and Davy had smiled at each other, deriving much pleasure from her reaction. The robot had waddled in and stopped in the middle of the room, awaiting more orders from Cliff (or at least that's how it appeared).
As Cliff was explaining the "scientific stuff," as Kerri referred to it, she phased out the voices, engrossed with studying the robot. It didn't look either male or female-maybe something in between. Androgynous, if a robot could be androgynous. Most of its body was plastic or something similar- whatever the material was that Cliff had decided on using and she'd forgotten the name of. Kerri hadn't paid much attention when he'd explained how he'd built it either, as she found it insipid. Boring, even. She knew she should try to learn all she could about it, and had tried to look interested at first, but it was much too technical for her. So instead she had examined the robot from head to toe.
What she was interested in was how this thing was going to react to her commands. From offhandedly catching bits and pieces of the guys' conversation, Kerri gathered the robot was pretty raw. It would only perform certain housecleaning tasks, and nothing else. But it was, after all, just what she had asked for. It had several dozen commands programmed into its "brain" and all you had to do was tell it to do something, and it would obey.
The first thing she had noticed were the eyes. They were sky blue. Cliff had made a good choice there. It was indeed 5 feet tall-a few inches shorter than she and Davy. It looked surprisingly human, but not scarily so.
The joints on the arms, legs, hips and neck were aluminum, or titanium, or something like that. Cliff was busy discussing the mechanics with the guys right now, but she wanted to try to conjure up some intelligent sounding questions concerning the robot so Cliff and the guys wouldn't think her a total imbecile. But she couldn't think of one single intellectual query.
Cliff, while having a beer with Micky and he others, had had her give it a few commands while he was still there, to be certain it would respond to her voice. Kerri was fascinated with how it sprung into action, somewhat clumsily shuffling its way to the vacuum cleaner, waiting for Kerri to plug it in and turn it on, then pushing it around slowly and thoroughly. Then she observed it as she gave it a cloth saturated with furniture polish and it went over each piece of furniture with extra care.
The guys handed over the cash to Cliff. They'd each had a few hundred extra lying around, in case of an emergency, and they refused to let Kerri contribute. That had been another enormous surprise for her. They insisted it was the least they could do, considering all she did for them.
Cliff had handed Kerri a list of the robot's commands before he left. Kerri hugged him, embarrassing him considerably. Then she'd also hugged each of the guys, and a few tears had escaped too.
The robot, since then, had been a blessing. It mopped the floors, dusted and vacuumed and put the clothes in the washer and dryer when asked, just as Cliff had hoped it would. But... Kerri, for some reason, felt a bit melancholy as she sat on the couch today, two weeks later. She had a vague nagging feeling. Something felt incomplete. Then it dawned on her. The robot had no personality. That's silly! she told herself. Its not supposed to have a personality. Its just a machine built to follow commands-nothing more...
But somehow, after only two weeks, she felt an attachment to it, even though she knew it wasn't a human, or even an animal. She had asked Cliff if she could name it, and he had laughed a bit hollowly. "Sure, its yours-you can do whatever you want with it," and shrugged it off. She suspected he secretly thought she was a little "off."
After that, Kerri had spent hours and days, off and on, trying to think of a name that fit the machine. It had a bald head, of course, and Kerri joked about giving it a mop of hair to match the guys. She decided it looked more male than female. So it would have to have a male name.
"Chester? Howard? Jackson? Jeff? Maurice?" Kerri eventually went through all the letters of the alphabet, trying to find a name. She complained to the guys that it needed a name, and she would not be happy until it had one. Davy, Peter and Micky made suggestions, but she wasn't happy with any of them. Everything sounded either too silly or too serious.
"How about William?" said Davy.
"Too formal. I want something light, friendly."
"Then Willie," Davy regretted it the moment he said it, as Peter looked at him slyly, nudged him with an elbow and giggled. Davy rolled his eyes.
"Robot," said Mike unenthusiastically. "Why can't you just call it robot?"
"Come on, Mike. Help us out." Kerri was getting frustrated.
"Franklin?" suggested Micky. "Oh yeah," he said a minute later. "Too formal."
"Frank then, call it Frank," was Mike's response. Frank. Kerri tried the name out, repeating it several times. It was almost right, but not quite. She went silent for a few seconds.
"That's it!" Kerri cried suddenly, causing them all to jump. "Frankie! It looks exactly like a Frankie!" So Frankie it was.
"Come here" was one of the commands the robot recognized on the piece of paper Cliff had given Kerri. From that day on, Kerri always said, "Frankie, come here," and he had always responded. The extra word added to the command didn't seem to affect him.
Frankie was more limber than she'd expected, bending and reaching when doing tasks. He even squatted when it was required, and could twist his torso to a certain degree. His hands and fingers, as Cliff had explained, weren't as flexible as a human's fingers, but what he couldn't do, Kerri would step in and finish the job. On the whole though, he was saving her a lot of time. Easily several hours a week.
Sometimes she got the almost uncontrollable urge to thank Frankie for all his efforts, or to catch his eye and smile at him in appreciation, then felt like a fool, realizing she'd just be thanking a hunk of whatever he was made out of.
Cliff had solved the problem of the stairs. Frankie would step up each one, precisely placing his feet on each stair so as not to get off balance. Only drawback was you had to say, "Step," each time you wanted him to step up. On the way down the stairs, you had to say, "Down" for each step as well.
"I think I'll give Cliff a call tonight," said Kerri as the boys walked in from practice, tired and hungry. She'd been pondering it all day. "I want to see if he can give Frankie a personality," she said casually, as she took the lasagne out of the oven. Then she waited for a response.
"What?" All four guys said in unison.
"It won't hurt to ask. I just want to find out if its possible."
Mike looked completely dumbfounded. "Why in the world would you want it, er... him to have a personality?" (Kerri had insisted from the moment Frankie had a name that he no longer be referred to as an "it").
Kerri strugged to find the words to express herself. She'd gotten a considerable raise at work, and at the guys' insistence, had cut back her hours to part time, so she was home alone a fair deal of the time until they got back from practice in the evening. She was still bringing in almost as much money, and now had more time to herself. Only working barely 18 hours a week, most of her time was spent with Frankie during the day.
She had often wished she could strike up a conversation with him, or at the very least, get some kind of reaction from him. But how to convey that to Mike? Mike, the pragmatic one. He wouldn't understand something so... frivolous. That was how he would probably put it-frivolous, trifling. And totally unnecessary.
"I'd like him to be more of a companion." That was as close as she could get to explaining it to Mike.
The only time Frankie ever talked was to express an inability to do something that was asked of him. If he was not programmed to do what was asked, Cliff had configured him to simply say, "No." But Kerri figured that if he were able to say that one word, he could be programmed to say others. Maybe even carry on a uncomplicated conversation. That would be out of sight!
"That's ridiculous," said Mike, his voice a bit harsher than Kerri had expected. "He's not a human, he's a robot. Don't ever forget that. Cliff isn't a miracle worker. You wanted an assistant housekeeper. You got one. Maybe not perfect, but he's helping out a lot, according to you. Now you want him to have a personality?" Mike was almost beside himself, but also realized he was being a bit too strong, and walked over to Kerri, slipping his arm around her shoulders.
"You can call Cliff, sure," he said softly. "But please don't get overboard about this. Cliff has already amazed me with what he's done with... Frankie." Mike still struggled with calling a machine by a human name. "So you have to appreciate what you have."
Of course Mike was right-Kerri fully realized it. But she was still going to call Cliff...
When she got Cliff on the phone, the guys gathered around, drawn to finding out what Cliff's comeback would be to such an aberrant request. As predicted, there was a prolonged pause at the other end of the line. It was so prolonged, in fact, that Kerri wasn't sure if Cliff hadn't laid the phone down in a state of shock, or hung up on her. When he did speak, it was haltingly.
"Um... is this in jest?" he asked.
"No, Cliff. You see..." and she tried explaining how she felt about not being able to communicate with Frankie. She knew it sounded absurd, but she forged ahead anyway.
"But... this was supposed to be a housecleaning robot. Maybe I missed something."
Kerri explained how much she appreciated what Cliff had done, and how amazingly well Frankie was working out, and that it was just a thought...
"Can you bring the robot over this weekend? I could tinker around and see if I can get anywhere. But I'm telling you... I don't think there's any possibility of it developing any kind of a 'personality,' as you put it." Cliff didn't mince words. Kerri was grateful for his honesty, as she didn't want to harbor any false hopes.
Even so, Kerri was ecstatic. Absolutely flying high. Cliff had at least agreed to give it a shot!
When Cliff delivered Frankie back to his Beechwood Drive home a week later, Kerri noticed a very slight change almost immediately. Cliff had tried to explain to the guys what he'd done, but it even went over their heads. He also left with a warning that Frankie could be a bit unpredictible now. He might show very little change, or he might begin to refuse commands, or do something that he hadn't been ordered to do. Cliff reminded them that he had no idea what he was doing, and that he was not responsible if Frankie became uncontrollable or even volatile. That got their attention, and they all looked at each other uneasily.
"You still want to do this?" Peter asked Kerri, his arm slipping affectionately around her waist.
"Well, we're all bigger than him, and as long as he doesn't have a weapon, I think we could handle him until we could get ahold of Cliff."
"But what if he gets aggressive when no one but Kerri's home?" asked Micky, to no one in particular.
"I'll give you my work number. You already have my home number. But I did do something you should remember-I installed an on/off switch on the robot. If it gets aggressive, just turn the switch to off. Cliff showed them all where the switch was-on top of Frankie's head. Kerri wondered how easily she'd be able to get to it if Frankie were actively trying to attack her.
"If it doesn't show aggressive tendencies within a few days, I doubt it ever will." Cliff's statement helped to allay everyone's nervousness a bit. "I really don't think there will be a problem-just informing you of the possibilities."
The changes Kerri noticed were subtle at first. Frankie seemed to be more alert than he'd been before, and more than a robot should be, Mike had said, looking a bit troubled. Frankie stayed in Kerri, Davy and Peter's room at night, and he seemed to be watching them getting ready for bed, as well as dressing in the morning. Kerri had taken to changing in the bathroom. Those eyes... Micky said he could swear Frankie watched his every move when he ate his cereal in the morning when they were all downstairs.
Micky had even jokingly asked Frankie if he wanted some cereal of his own, and Micky swore the robot leaned forward the slightest bit, looked more closely at the cereal and sneered.
So... its not all in my head, thought Kerri. The others are seeing it too. At night, right before bed, Kerri had taken to flipping the "off" switch in case Frankie decided to do something out of the ordinary, considering he was now "unpredictible," according to Cliff. Better to be safe than sorry, she reasoned. He had not shown the slightest aggressive behavior, so it looked as if they were out of the woods on that count. She always flipped his "on" switch in the morning before they all went downstairs.
It wasn't long before Davy suggested delicately that they keep Frankie turned "off" at certain times and Peter, being the more outspoken, finished that thought by suggesting they put Frankie in the closet when any of them made love, even though he was turned off. None of them were comfortable with those sky blue robot eyes on them when they were being intimate.
After the increase in awareness in general, other features started to surface. Frankie began to exhibit ever more interest in his human roommates. Peter, being the most fun loving member of the group, would always ask Frankie to sit down, "take a load off your feet," since Frankie always stood, as being a robot, he didn't have a need to sit and rest. Peter always indicated the couch next to him whenever he said it.
One night, Peter repeated it as he had so many times before, and Frankie hesitated, then confidentally walked over to Peter and sat down on the couch next to him! If they hadn't all witnessed it, no one would have believed anyone else about it actually happening. They all froze in shock, staring at Frankie.
"Oh my god!" is all Micky could manage to muster as he stood there stupefied.
"He understood you!" Kerri said in a stunned whisper.
"Either I'm crackers or Frankie is," said Davy.
Mike bent over at the waist to rest his hands on his knees, truly astonished and suddenly light headed. His down-to-earth, practical personality couldn't take this. Common sense told him it wasn't possible. Yet, he'd seen it with his own eyes.
"Well, I guess he's developing a personality," said Peter sanguinely, smiling arrestingly, not the slightest perturbed. Yep, leave it to Peter to be utterly accepting and nonchalant about the matter. The days to come would prove Peter to be highly accurate.
One night about a week later they were all in the living room watching TV. Frankie was walking around, "doing his evening walkabout," as Micky called it. He would randomly wander, and everyone was used to the slight creeking noises that accompanied it by now. It was easily blocked out when you heard it so frequently.
Now a running joke and nightly habit, Peter said, "Come here and sit down, Frankie." His request was followed by a soft noise that none of them recognized. All eyes turned in Frankie's direction. No one said a word, and Kerri carefully turned down the sound on the television. Silence...they were all on the edge of their seats, waiting to see if the sound would repeat. It had almost sounded like a voice. Tinny and a bit raspy, and very spooky sounding if the truth be told.
They were rewarded a moment later when the sound came again. This time it was clearly identified as words, and what's more, they were recognizable. "Wanna walk, don't wanna sit."
This time, Mike flew up from his seat on the couch, his pragmatic mind just not capable of processing what had just happened.
"Shit! I'm gettin' the hell outta here!" Mike could no longer keep his composure. He was seriously spooked, and so were the rest of them. But unlike Mike, the others were frozen, paralyzed with fright. Mike took flight out the front door without even a glance backward.
Davy and Peter sat stiffly, staring unwaveringly at Frankie, and Kerri nearly peed her pants. Micky was off the couch in a flash and edging slowly toward the stairs, walking backward, his eyes never leaving Frankie.
"What the fuck... was that? Davy looked like a ghost, all the color having drained from his face. "Sorry for the language, Kerri," he apologized immediately, his wary eyes leaping back to Frankie.
"Hey, he's just getting a personality! Doesn't that include speaking?" Again, Peter took it more or less in stride. Being uncomplicated, it made perfect sense to him. "Looks like Cliff did a better job than you guys expected!"
Kerri still couldn't find her voice. When she had finally been able to manage to dial Cliff's number, Davy had to talk to him, as she still couldn't speak.
"Cliff, you aren't gonna believe this... but Frankie... just talked! And not just a word... a whole sentence!"
Davy listened to Cliff for a few minutes, then hung up on the phone.
"Well? What did he say?" asked Peter impatiently. Micky was apparentlly hiding out upstairs.
"He said that he didn't tell us that he tinkered around with giving the robot more power to speak because he didn't want to... get Kerri's hopes up. And he was almost as shocked as we are... that he talked. And especially a whole sentence. He told me... to warn everyone that he has no idea where this could lead to."
