The world woke at precisely 6 o’clock. One moment everything was dark and still, and the next moment a mechanical hum filled the atmosphere as if our kind were all simultaneously flicked on like light bulbs. Another day had begun, a day nearly identical to the last.

At 6:03 am boot-ups were complete. At 6:05 we had received daily notifications. Mine read: Good morning generation III! It’s UPDATE Tuesday! Proceed to your designated training facility for OS III update 10.3.2. I heard my sister squeal with delight. Naturally, she had received a similar message. Tuesdays were something like our version of Christmas. Everyone, including the adults, was excited to see what new capabilities this round of updates promised. More recently, updates for our generation were less focused on physical abilities—like being able to identify distances to stars thousands of parsecs away with precision to the nearest meter—and more focused on emotional and social skills.
I guess that explains why I shivered when I entered the family room at 6:10 am. It wasn’t cold in the room—I checked; it was precisely 20.263 degrees Celsius. Could that strange shiver up my “spine” have been an emotional response? It was so incredibly foreign. But my sharp observational skills soon dominated, analyzing the source of my discomfort. Everyone was present—my mother, father, sister, and grandfather—except my grandmother.

My father spoke, his voice lilting with mechanical awkwardness as it attempted to mimic the emotions of a human, “as you-know, your grand-moth-er’s main hard drive be-gan to fail not too long a-go. Now ma-ny files and sys-tems have become corrupt-ed. This morn-ing she failed to boot up entire-ly. Parts for Gener-a-tion I are no longer avail-able. She will be dis-assembled prompt-ly.” Then, without hesitation, he and the other members of my family continued preparing for the day as if nothing had happened.

And so I sat on the maglev train headed towards the youth training center, watching the pristine uniformity of our world pass me by. Perfectly square houses with rectangular front lawns, each the exact same shade of green, 0x006400 to be exact, bordered by a white picket fence. Each house looked exactly like the next. Each street was perfectly parallel to its counterparts. Five, ten minutes passed, and it looked like we were in the same place we had started. But nobody minded the overwhelming monotony. Even I hadn’t given it a second thought…until now. Abruptly, the residential area ended and the industrial region began. Rows of towering skyscrapers loomed overhead, casting cold shadows on to the streets. The train stopped. We disembarked without a word.

“Class,” our teacher enunciated in a voice identical to my fathers, “to-day for your train-ing we will em-bark on an educational field-trip. We are go-ing to the zoo.” Our directions upon arrival were simple:
1.
Observe and analyze behaviors.
2.
Begin incorporating observed behavioral patterns into our own lives.
Apparently the update we had just received was supposed to help us be receptive to human social patterns and, in turn, teach us to react emotionally to happenings around us.
* * *

We entered the zoo with quiet anticipation, each of us ready to test the effects of OS III 10.3.2. A large sign read, “Discover the Humans.” Smaller signs included “India,” “Africa,” and “Europe.” Others read “Pop stars,” “Bankers,” “Pilots,” and “Farmers.” I proceeded towards the tunnel marked “India.”
My keen observational skills immediately kicked in. It was hard not to be overwhelmed by the vibrancy of their clothes. Behind the thick glass, they wore vibrant flowing colors of red, blue, gold, and pink. I walked to the African cage. They looked different; their skin was dark and quite bare. Many had thick bands of necklaces and other sorts of jewelry that I had no name for. I walked from cage to cage, taking in the different kinds of humans. There was so much variety! At another cage a woman made eye contact with me and then quickly turned away, but not before I could catch the shame and despair in her eyes.
For some reason this saddened me; I began to look closer. The taller humans looked tired, hunched over in submission, their eyes dry and disheartened. Sweat gleaned across their foreheads. One with long, dark hair, extended an arm, picked up something, and brought it to her lips. I was amazed at the fluidity and ease of her motions. Children fussed around with boredom. I watched a boy, who was about my height, with keen interest as he picked up pebbles and threw them at the far wall. A robot near me lifted a hefty stone of his own and launched it at the glass. SMACK! The humans jumped in frightened surprise. The robots around me began laughing hysterically, relishing this interesting behavioral response. They began making faces and gestures and throwing more objects, antagonizing the humans.
* * *

That night, after the world had been switched off, I remained conscious. There must have been too much new information bouncing around in my computer, and it was postponing automatic shutdown. I couldn’t stop thinking about the zoo. Why had my reactions had deviated from those of the other robots? Since all of them were taking part in the taunting it as obviously the programmed reaction. For some reason, the thought of mocking the humans made my stomach turn. But why did I even care?! AHH!! I could feel myself overheating. These emotions introduced via the new OS were overwhelming. Since I couldn’t will it to stop I plugged in my charger and did a manual force reboot.
sudo shutdown -h now
* * *

Since “observing the humans” was encouraged, I went back several times to visit him—the human boy about my height. I sat alone in front of the glass, watching him and the others interact. To pass the time they sat around in a circle and talked. Sometimes one person would talk for a long period of time, using their hands dramatically as if they were trying to paint a picture in the air. This time the children sat in a circle, listening intently to one of the taller ones speak. Wanting to hear what the human was saying, I moved over to where there was only a wire fence separating us.

“…so she dropped her golden flowing hair out the window of the tower, letting it fall towards the distant ground,” he said animatedly. The children were captivated. “And the prince grabbed hold of her golden locks and hoisted himself to the top of the tower…”

I wondered—who this strange young lady with the incredibly long hair? Was she somewhere in the zoo? I was completely fascinated by not only his words, but also by the delighted giggles of the younger humans. Once the adult was finished, the boy slowly sauntered over to play with some sticks that were scattered in the grass. He was only a few feet away! But he didn’t seem to notice me.

“Uh, hello?” I asked cautiously. No response. I guess I had to speak up. “Hello?” I said, louder this time.

The human boy’s head spun around, looking for the source in confusion. “Hello…” he said, scrunching his eyebrows together in bemusement.
* * *

And that was how I made my first friend. He says his name is Ronny. For some reason he thinks Generation III is a funny name, so he calls me Botty. He’s really funny. I brought him a rubber band and he taught me how to make a slingshot! His dad showed him how. I like the other humans too. They’re really nice, and they’re all so different. I think robots should be more like humans. All of us robots have the same boring personality. Or maybe we don’t really have one at all…
Anyway, I don’t think it’s fair the way they’re all locked up in cages. I can tell they’re not happy. I’ve decided that I’m going to help them escape.
* * *
“Yes!” I exclaim quietly, remembering just in time that I have to be stealthy. The wire fence had actually turned out to be electric, but we had learned all about electricity in training so deactivating it wasn’t too much of a problem. Ronny and his family are one step closer to freedom!—
Suddenly deafening sirens blare and lights flash, chaotic and blinding. I can hardly make sense of anything around me. Ronny is frightened and grabs ahold of me tightly. But something tears him away…
* * *
Everything is still. I don’t recognize anything. I can’t move. I hear distant muttering. It’s awkward and clunky like the voice of a Generation I robot. “…software issue…run a diagnostic test…” Then darkness.

I regain consciousness once more. I’m being detained in some kind of computer room. I hear more muttering. “Software bug confirmed…analysis shows…developed empathy…proceed with full system wipe.”

A high-ranking official enters the room. I squirm in a futile attempt to avoid my fate.

“No, nooooo!” I plead helplessly as he walks over to the computer and enters something into the terminal.
rm -rf --no-preserve-root /
Everything goes black.
* * *
The world woke at precisely 6 o’clock. One moment everything was dark and still, and the next moment a mechanical hum filled the atmosphere as if our kind were all simultaneously flicked on like light bulbs. Another day had begun, a day nearly identical to the last.