Achromatopsia

Achromatopsia

By Rory McClannahan

 

A lost man found a magical girl; and when she touched him, he saw the world as it could be.

“Make it stop,” she told him, and he did.

#

Rich stood outside the men's room on the promenade level at the southern end of the Battlestar Resort and Casino. That wasn't the casino's actual name – that was Skyy or Cloud or something stupid like that – but everyone in Vegas called it the Battlestar, just like that old show. Rich had sneaked in with the use of an access pass he'd found in a garbage can on the street level near the escalator. It conveyed those who were lucky enough to access the casino, which catered to only the high rollers and where Rich had once been a bathroom attendant. He had been replaced by a Furman Service Aide. A robot, although no employee is allowed to call them robots because the customers don't like the term. Rich was neither employee nor customer, so to him it was a robot.

The pass was found under a half-eaten boat of nachos that Rich saw a frat boy throw in the garbage can before heading up. Rich wasn't normally in the habit of digging food out of trash cans – he hadn't thought he was that desperate. His empty stomach told him otherwise as he stood guarding the receptacle so that no one else could grab the uneaten snack. The escalators were an ideal place for finding discarded food – the casinos above did not allow street food to be brought inside.

In his mind, a debate raged. If he grabbed the nachos he knew a line would be crossed, a line into poverty. He didn’t want to admit that to himself, but the pangs in his stomach reminded him that if he didn't move quickly, it wouldn't be long before someone grabbed the nachos or threw something else in the can, pushing the food further down.

He quickly seized the nachos lest anyone see him and judge. Stuck to the bottom of the boat was the coveted pass. He felt the plastic pass with his hand and made to throw it away when he saw what it was. Rich quickly pocketed it and moved away from the bottom of the escalator. The nachos were cold and the cheese nearly solid, but he ate them without much thought of their condition. As he ate in the shade of fake palm tree, he suspiciously looked around. People with lost passes usually come looking for them.

When he felt it was safe, he pulled the pass from his pocket. It was embossed with the Battlestar's name, but looked different from the normal employee or visitor passes. It was dark blue with a cloud on it. Having worked in the casino, he knew the pass had a limited lifespan and once was discovered missing would be deactivated. He wouldn’t be able to sell it. Rich wasn’t sure why he wanted to go to the casino, he just did. He would have to act now if he hoped to gain access to the promised land.

He looked above to see where the Battlestar was, and saw it about a mile to the north, hovering 450 feet above the Strip and supported by its five-foot thick rails on either side of the 8-lane road below. The hotel and casino moved on 20-foot wheels at a nice 1.2 miles per hour. It only stopped when it reached its northern and southern terminus twice a day, and then only to change directions and go back the way it came. Rich could see why it was called Battlestar; it looked like one of those space ships he saw in movies when he was a kid.

How long had it been since he'd seen a movie? Probably a decade or more.

The Battlestar was heading north and had just passed Caesars Palace. He could catch it. The decision was cemented and he made his way to the escalator. It took him up 100 feet to the first platform – anyone could go that far. At the platform he boarded another, then another and another until he found himself at the entrance of Caesars. It seemed hotter up here, if Vegas could get hotter.

Rich had two choices – wait until the Battlestar made its way back to this platform, which would be about 10 hours, or enter the upper level of Caesars and make his way north on foot by going through all the casinos, which were connected in various manners – walkways, shared doors, bridges that crossed the street below. Keeping a brisk pace, he could catch the Battlestar within an hour, quicker if he ran. Although running might attract attention in a different situation, it was not uncommon to see someone running to catch the Battlestar. If they were really wealthy, customers could catch a people mover designed to take you to the casino.

“Pass please,” the greeting robot at the door of Caesars pleasantly demanded. It was similar to the one that had replaced Rich at his job. He swallowed his anger, he wasn't the only person to lose his livelihood thanks to the robot revolution in Vegas. He should have seen the changes coming, but he was mentally incapable of too much advance planning.

Rich handed over the pass to the robot and swallowed a dry stone in his throat, afraid that this simple act might alert security forces.

“Welcome to Caesars Palace, Mr. Parker. Your 300,000 Skyy credits are welcome at any of our tables,” the robot said. “Enjoy your stay.”

It handed the card back and gave a subservient bow and extended three of its six arms in a welcoming gesture.

“Uh … thanks,” Rich said, trying his best not to act suspicious. He walked into the casino, and quickly – but not too quickly – made his way north. It was nice to be in the air-conditioned comfort of the casino. He gave little thought as to who Mr. Parker might be, but was tempted by the amount of credit on the pass. That temptation would not be satiated, though. Rich knew enough to know that security would easily catch him if he tried to use the pass at a table or in slot machine. His hope was that he would be able to make it to the Battlestar before the card was deactivated and security hauled him out.

He had no problems, though, as he made his way through six crowded casinos, crossing the Strip twice. He made it to the platform at the Sahara in time to catch the tail end of the Battlestar, and was again surprised when he was welcomed in. Only this time, the greeter robot offered to call a transport for him. It was being much more subservient than the others. He turned down “the usual transport” and lost himself in the crowd on the casino. Feeling nervous about carrying an access pass that wasn’t his, he dropped it in a garbage can without missing a step.

Rich did not normally attract much attention, he was neither handsome nor ugly, short nor tall, thin nor fat. Despite his dire financial condition, he was still well groomed, as a man who had made a living doling out advice on such things to other men could be. But now he was standing outside the men's room where he had worked for seven years and he didn't know why he was there. That's not quite right, he wanted to destroy the robot that had taken his job. That was the extent of his thoughts – there was no political agenda, no solidarity with his fellow bathroom attendants who were thrown out of work, or even the larger number of dealers, cocktail waitresses, maids, bell boys and such who were displaced by the robots.

“You need to go back to school and learn a new trade,” the HR director had told him when handing Rich his severance check. Rich tried, but he knew that he was nothing more than what he was – a guy who handed out towels and made suggestions on cologne in the men's room. For that, he was paid well enough for a man of his limited intelligence. It was a living.

He was already 56 years old, what else could he do? All of the service jobs were gone or disappearing, replaced by a mechanized workforce that didn't ask for days off. He wasn't smart, had no depth of character and didn't understand much of what he saw of the world. He'd never really had a conversation of any substance in his life, he had no depth. He'd never felt a lover's kiss and never realized he had been missing that until he felt a hand on his arm while he was standing outside the men's room on the south end of the Battlestar casino.

Rich didn't normally like people touching him, but this touch didn't bother him. In fact, it felt good, and nice and warm and if he could have found the words to describe it, it would have been joyous. How do you describe the feeling of love if you've never known it before? It was as if Rich had spent his life only being able to see in black and white and then … bright, vivid color.

In his ear, he felt a warm breath that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“I'm glad you made it,” a light female voice whispered, “but you need to keep this.” The access pass with the 300,000 credits was pressed into his hand. He didn't have to look to know who it was, her touch told him. But he had to see her. Holding his arm was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen – maybe 30 or even younger. Her hair was as black as a raven and her eyes as blue as the sky.

He knew her, but didn't know how he knew her. Her name was Parker but Rich didn't know her first name. He looked into her eyes and was lost in the possibilities of the world with her flashed through his mind. He knew what she wanted him to do.

“Make it stop,” she whispered in his ear. “You understand?”

He nodded and she was gone. He already missed her.

Two thoughts entered his mind, but only one became an obsession. Rich had never known love until that moment and he would do anything to get it back. 

#

The old woman hated her granddaughter for no other reason than that is what the young woman inspired in her family and most everyone else.

Gramma felt guilty in those quiet moments when Penny wasn't around, but guilt is just as negative as hate. So Gramma spent as much time as possible in the rooftop garden at her son's casino – The Skyy. She did think that was a silly name for such a beautiful accomplishment her son had achieved. She loved him.

It was useless to try and grow anything in the garden, the intense Vegas heat burned plants just as soon as they sprouted. Gramma, though, didn't spend time in the garden to grow anything; it was more of an escape from her granddaughter.

Penny had never done anything to her family to draw their ire, which just made them hate her that much more. It had been that way since the girl was born. Gramma remembered being handed the child not long after her birth, light and sweet-looking and innocent. Once she touched Penny, Gramma felt a wave of hatred coursing through her veins. So much that she nearly dropped the baby in shock. Something was not right. She quickly handed off the child to the next relative, and one by one everyone realized they would never be able to love the child. Quite the opposite, in fact; everyone felt that same hatred. Even Penny's mother and father.

Soon after, the girl's mother left, which added to the guilt everyone was feeling. Instead of picking up the child when she cried, her family was not-so-secretly happy Penny was in discomfort. Gramma knew it was wrong that Penny grew up in a family that blanched when she entered a room, refused to hug her, to kiss her. To love her.

As Penny grew it became apparent that different people reacted in different ways toward her, but the majority of opinions was hate. Gramma, if she thought real hard, tried to feel sorry for Penny, but she abhorred the girl too much to harbor feelings of sorrow for too long. The Skyy, though, now there was something Gramma loved, a magnificent engineering feat accomplished by her own son.

She went on weeding a garden that had no weeds, stopping every now and again to stare at the wind generators off to the west. The sun was setting in a giant orange ball and the beauty of the technological world combined with the natural world took Gramma's breath. In these brief moments of reflection, she would think about her life and how it was almost as perfect as anyone could imagine: she lived in a wonderful place and had a wonderful son. Everything was perfect because she loved and she hated and everything was how it should be.

“I found someone who loves me.” Penny's voice shook Gramma out of her daydream. It was unusual for the girl to sneak up on her like that. As instantly as she felt surprise, she felt the bile raise from her stomach. She refused to look at the girl who had sad eyes, perfect skin and white teeth. You would think that someone as pretty as Penny would make most people smile. Gramma knew better.

“No one will ever love you. You know that,” Gramma said, trying her best to hurt the girl. If she had the strength, she would have pushed Penny off the side of the floating building and laughed as she fell to her gruesome death.

“You're wrong, Gramma,” Penny said. “I saw him, Gramma. I saw him and I felt his love. He's coming for me, then you'll see.”

Gramma felt the girl leave and the hatred subsided; but, as always, never really went away. If there only were a way to truly be free of that girl, she thought. In that way, Penny's mother had been the lucky one – she at least had the good sense to leave. The girl had to stay, though. As long as she was there, everyone would love the casino.

#

The girl with the sad eyes and pretty face spent her days wandering around Las Vegas unfettered. She liked the crowds, it was where she could feel the least judged. It was never far away, though. The malice was ever present and for the most part she did her best to ignore it. Hatred had always been a presence in her life, and if not that, then apathy.

But she couldn't ignore the glances, the sharp stares and the spiteful words.

“Slut!” they would yell even though she was a virgin.

“Bitch …” they seethed even though she had always been kind and friendly.

Ever since she could remember, she had been spat upon, slapped and kicked. It was the life she had always known. And through that hatred, she did not harbor ill thoughts toward anyone. While she inspired malice in others, Penny was incapable of reciprocating. It was what it was.

Until she met Rich, that is. Through him, she was able to see the hatred the world had laid at her feet and give it back in return. For that, she loved him more than anyone.

She had come to believe she was incapable of feeling love; for her, there was nothing to feel toward anyone or anything. She confronted her life with apathy. How else to cope with a deck dealt from the bottom?

Rich was different, though, and she knew he wouldn't realize that until she showed him.

Penny had been at the casino the day the men were setting up the robots – except no one called them robots. They were “member assistants” or some other bullshit like that. What they were was robots that mocked humans with their mechanical perfection.

As usual, anyone who noticed her there would throw glances of hatred her way. All kept their mouths shut – she was the boss's daughter after all. One man, though, didn't even notice her, didn't respond when he glanced at her. That was different, and in Penny's world, different was good. She moved to place herself close to him and when he noticed her, he smiled. It wasn't a pretty smile because he had the kind of face built more for a grimace. Didn't he know who she was? She got so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn't notice him disappear.

But he smiled at her? At her, the girl everyone hates. Who was he? It's true that he wasn't exactly attractive – short, middle-aged and slope-shouldered. He had been dressed in one of the casino's uniforms, so finding him turned out to be both easy and frustrating. Easy because she had access to the kind of information she needed to find him.

“This is unusual, Ms. Parker,” the human resources director said to her, not at all trying to hide the vitriol in her voice.

“I'm doing some research related to the conversion to the Furman service units,” Penny said. “My father … Mr. Parker … put me in charge of this project. We could go speak to him together if you like.”

The HR hag didn't believe Penny's lie – in fact most people believed Penny lied with regularity – but the threat that the girl might be telling the truth and the wrath of her father overwhelmed her better judgment. The truth was that Penny never lied and this was her first. She had changed, but no one had seen it yet. No one would until it was too late.

“Your father put you on this project probably because he didn't want to see you,” the HR woman mumbled.

Penny gave a sharp retort. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” the hag was caught and resented Penny that much more. “I'll set you up at a terminal.” Which she did, farther away than anyone else.

For three weeks, Penny studied employee and vendor records, which totaled more than 3,000 people. When she found him, that is when she became frustrated – she'd discovered his employment had been terminated. His initial job application from seven years before had an address and Penny didn't know if it was current, all other transactions with his former employer had been made electronically. If she were to find him, she would have to track him down.

A plan began to form in her mind.

His name was Rich and Penny created an all-access pass to the Battlestar – and thus all the other casinos on the upper level. She added a large amount of credits on the card. Finding him was easy; he still lived at the same address. But she didn't have the courage to just knock on his door and introduce herself. Besides, she wanted him to come to her. So she followed him, she studied him and she fell in love with him even more.

That she was able to plant the card in the garbage can was pure luck. She knew he had a habit of at least looking in garbage cans for anything of value thrown away. He wasn't a digger, but would look for what was on top. It was there she placed the blue access pass. Then a couple of frat guys dumped their nachos and Penny was afraid that she would have to dig in the garbage to retrieve the card herself.

But then he got it. Luck. Pure stinking luck.

She followed him as he made his way to the Battlestar and he threw it away again! This time, she did have to retrieve it and was afraid she might lose him. Penny knew why Rich had tossed the card – he was worried about security at the casino. Everyone was being tracked and he obviously didn't belong there. She had to convince him that the card afforded him all the security he needed.

She wasn't quite sure why she did it. That's not true, she knew. He was different, but she didn't realize how much until she touched him. While Rich was finally able to see the world in colors and love, Penny was at last able to see her curse – and the reason everyone hated her.

It was the casino. As long as it existed, she would always be hated.

Penny knew the instant she touched Rich how she came to be cursed in such a manner. She also learned that the power of her love could bring an end to her curse.

“Make it stop,” she said.

And he understood.

#

William Hugo Parker III wasn't technically the owner of The Skyy, but it was his baby. The casino's ownership was through Parker Resorts International, LLC and Will had stakeholders to answer to. His 43 percent of stock was inherited from his father William Hugo Parker Jr., Hugo to his closest friends and newspaper columnists. As part of the old man's will, Will's daughter, Penny, was given 13 percent in the company and a seat on the board of directors when she turned 30, less than four short years away.

No, Will didn't own The Skyy, but it was his dream made into reality. If you're going to dream, he always thought to himself, you've got to dream big. And nothing was bigger, or more impressive than his hotel and casino. He didn't just own a corner of the Strip, he was lord over the whole thing. No one had believed that his plans for a resort that traveled up and down – and above – the most famous road in the world could be done. But those plans started coming together long before Penny was even a twinkle, long before Hugo died.

Hugo didn't believe Will could pull together all the variables to make The Skyy happen. Not only would there be the massive construction, but getting approval from two municipalities and numerous other casino operators was daunting. But the old man admired his son's enthusiasm for the project, as long as not too much money was spent. Sure, Will took some shortcuts and had to make some questionable deals, but his dream came true.

So it was that Penny was born on the same day that The Skyy broke ground. A photo of that ceremony hung on the wall behind Will's desk but a photo of his only child did not. In the photo, he's 26 years younger, of course, and Hugo is there beaming at his only child. And next to them is the mayor and governor and other members of the board of directors and all the other stakeholders – casino operators, property owners and union bosses. There was even a couple of showgirls at the ceremony. Next to that photo was one of the grand opening ceremony six years later. Hugo was gone then, as was Stella. Will felt a little guilt over Penny's mother disappearing, but his dream was more important.

More than 10 years of glad-handing and bribes to zoning officials and environmental reports and two heart attacks leading up to that groundbreaking ceremony made it all worthwhile. And when The Skyy opened, it was a boon to all of Vegas. People came from all over the world to see the flying casino. The rich and famous lined up to spend a night in the hotel and lose money at his tables. Vegas had always been a place of attractions and dreams; and it had been dying. Will saved it.

The resort itself bragged of a high roller clientele – which it did indeed have – but the open secret was that the cost of entry wasn't out of the range of the average Vegas vacationer. The other casinos, which built skyward to reach the Battlestar, fell in line and for $100, anyone could gain access to the upper levels. Will didn't go cheap, either. Service was king up in the clouds. He brought back bell boys and shoe shiners and hostesses and keno girls. And bathroom attendants. Class was the word for The Skyy, even though its very premise was of kitsch.

As with most business interests, there were ups and downs. The Skyy was still popular, but Will's costs were getting out of hand. That's when he was sold on firing all his support staff and replacing them with the robots. No one seemed to mind – hell, everyone had a robot of their own at home. The love people had for The Skyy remained intact as Will knew it would. As long as everyone hated his daughter, they would love his casino.

That was the deal he had made and he didn't regret it for one second.

#

The Furman Service Aid, Model EE107, was a modern technological marvel, but most people didn't care. Even among the fleet of more than 300,000 EE107s in use, not a single one cared that their human overlords saw them in the same sort of light as a toaster or a vacuum cleaner. It was their lot in life, but the Furman Service Aid, Model EE107 was indeed special.

Furman had been designing robots from a long time, starting with the aforementioned robot vacuum cleaner. Technology moved quickly in the highly competitive field of artificial intelligence and for the Furman Corporation, its Model 2050 was the crowning achievement. It was a service robot, made in several styles, that looked and acted like human beings. The perfected model was unveiled at a big event in Los Angeles but the backlash was soon to follow.

While the Model 2050 looked and acted like humans, the humans themselves felt they held a special unique position in this universe and were … uncomfortable with machines made to look like them. Sales for the 2050 were horrible, except for a burgeoning and lucrative market in the sex trade. Work on the EE107 began long before, but designs were changed to make sure the robots looked more like robots.

This was actually a benefit for the designers at Furman, because it allowed them to do away with the equipment that was necessary to create a robot biped and concentrate exclusively on the EE in the EE107. The letters stand for Empathy Emulator and it made the service robots easier to integrate into homes and businesses.

A long problem with artificial intelligence is that robots, obviously, have no empathy – they cannot pick up on the subtle clues humans give to tell fellow humans how they feel. Sure, robots can read visual clues, such as tears, and make a determination based on their programming. But what of tears of happiness? There were a few failures; six to be exact before the trademarked Empathy Emulator was perfected well enough to bring to market.

Now a service robot could process more than 5,000 visual clues to determine a human's feelings and act accordingly. That's how the Furman Service Aide, Model EE107, No. HU00879-G – whose job it was to serve as bathroom attendant on the promenade level, south side men's room in The Skyy Resort and Casino knew that the human staring at him (can we assign a gender to a robot?) was an emotional hodge-podge of racing heartbeat, flushed face and sweaty hands. Using its highly developed Empathy Emulator, HU00879-G had determined the man must either be in love or be very angry.

There was a possibility that the man also was in gastric distress, an “emotion” HU00879-G had quickly learned when first assigned to his current duties. The robot needed more information from the man if he were to assist.

“Welcome, sir,” the robot said in a programmed voice. It didn't know that its voice could have been indistinguishable from that of a human's, but that the good folks at Furman were not taking any chances on this model.

“Is there anything I can do to assist you?” it asked. The man simply stared at it. No response meant that the man most likely did not want to interact with HU00879-G, although he was staring. This presented somewhat of a quandary to the robot, and while he was equipped with the fastest processor known to ever be installed in a service aid, he still took 3.5 seconds to go through the millions of variables programmed into its hard drive (and if especially stumped, it could access the main server through a secured wireless connection. He hated to access the server, though. He knew his job.) A decision made, HU00879-G spoke: “If there is anything for which I can assist, please do not hesitate to ask. I will be over there.” The robot was pointing at its station next to the bank of sinks. It bowed its head – a Bakelite shell that looked more like an old radio than a head – and took his place.

The man followed it over, still studying it. This behavior indicated to the robot that the man's intentions could be violent.

“That's exactly what I would have said,” the man said to the robot. “Who trained you?”

The robot stood at attention and answered: “My training was completed by uploading several service programs designed specifically for my duties.”

The man stared at him and HU00879-G stared back, unsure how to proceed. That was in his programming as well: Don’t guess, let the customer tell you what he or she wants. The man made his way to the sinks and held his hand under the faucet in order to activate it. He splashed water on his face and HU00879-G silently handed him a towel.

“They used me to train you,” the man said. HU00879-G picked up the rise is volume and pitch in the man’s voice, indicating he was either mad or happy. Seeing as the man was not smiling, HU00879-G assumed that he was angry.

“I am sorry, sir, but I do not understand,” HU00879-G said in as soothing a voice as he could muster.

“This used to be my bathroom,” the man said, pacing nervously. “I worked here for fifteen years, since this place opened. Then one day, these guys came in and set up cameras and microphones. I told them there were already security cameras in here, but these guys told me that the cameras would be watching me. They told me that they were making training videos for bathroom attendants and that I was the best one in the whole of Las Vegas.”

HU00879-G saw that the man was beginning to relax, his blood pressure had dropped and his cheeks had lost the color of rage. The robot did a calculation and determined that there was an 80 percent possibility that the man had not finished talking. So HU00879-G remained silent not only as a courtesy, but because he was … curious. This customer had some insight into the robot’s creation, something HU00879-G had been contemplating in his down time. It might be best to listen and record.

“I was so proud of myself,” the man continued. “I was the best at something. Me. Rich Tolley was the best bathroom attendant in Las Vegas and they wanted to learn from me and use me to teach other bathroom attendants.

“Except that wasn’t the real truth, was it Mr. Robot?”

HU00879-G’s scanners picked up the sudden change in mood from his customer. According to all of the biometric readings HU00879-G was receiving, the man was not just angry, but was murderous. Protocol dictated that the robot alert security about the issue. Later, when HU00879-G had time to reflect, he wondered why he had not followed his protocol. He could not determine an answer.

Instead, HU00879-G felt that he had learned enough about his customer to reason with him. Instead of turning over the situation to others, HU00879-G felt he could solve the crisis on his own. He didn’t know it, but that’s what the Empathy Emulator was designed to do.

“You lost your employment and were replaced by me,” HU00879-G said.

The man stared for endless moments, although HU00879-G calculated it to be 27.4822 seconds.

“Yes,” the man said. The robot searched his memory and programming to find the proper response. There was none in his programming, nor on the main server, so HU00879-G improvised.

“How were you able to gain access to the Skyy Hotel and Casino? It seems unlikely that you would be allowed to return here. In fact, I can see by accessing the employee protocols that you should not be here at all. I am duty-bound to call security.”

“So, call them,” the man said. “What’s stopping you?”

HU00879-G stood silent. He did not know why he had not called security. Curiosity, yes; but there was more. There had to be. The man, Rich, was pacing around the bathroom, but all signs of aggression had disappeared.

“The truth is, I’m not sure how I was able to get here,” Rich said as he checked the stalls for toilet paper. “This girl gave me an access pass with 300,000 credits on it. I think… I think she loves me.”

Ah, calculated HU00879-G, perhaps his initial assessment of this man was correct. He was in love. But HU00879-G’s curiosity got the better of him. Sure, he had a definition of love, but he also sensed it was more than what could be put into words. Perhaps he could learn more.

“How do you know she loves you?” HU00879-G asked. By this time, Rich was looking at himself in the mirror. HU00879-G knew from his limited knowledge on the subject that the man was not attractive, he did not meet any of the requirements that vast studies had indicated to humans was attractive. The man was short, he had little muscle tone and little hair on his head. His face was asymmetrical, with one eye 14 millimeters higher than the other and his wide nose was not quite centered on his face. According to all the matrices, this man was quite ugly, and yet was the subject of love. Atypical, HU00879-G thought.

“I don’t know. I mean, look at me. I’m not smart. I’m ugly. No one has ever loved me, but she touched me and I felt it,” Rich said. HU00879-G could see Rich was embarrassed by the declaration, but it sent the robot into a rather lengthy – three minutes and 22 seconds – quest to search all the databases to determine the meaning of the statement. Unable to find satisfaction in his research, HU00879-G reached out one of his six arms and lightly touched Rich with the sensor finger. Rich looked at the finger touching his arm, but did not say anything nor bat it away.

“Is this love?” HU00879-G asked. Rich shrugged, which HU00879-G correctly surmised that Rich didn’t know. And within his circuits and his artificial empathy processor, HU00879-G came to the same lack of conclusion. Something had changed, though. The robot knew everything on record that there was to know about love and had no answer. He did know its importance and the emotions that came with it and in that instant began to long for the experience. HU00879-G withdrew his artificial phalange. The robot remembered who he was and despite all his questions returned to the only thing he knew to do.

“I apologize, sir,” he said. “What can I do to help?” This time, he meant to help as only one being can do for another.

“I need to make it stop,” Rich told HU00879-G, “but I don’t know how.”

Being much smarter, the robot understood what needed to be stopped, for he felt it as well. HU00879-G told the man he would take care of it.

“Please insert your Skyy pass into the slot in my chest,” HU00879-G said. Once Rick did so, the robot spent an extremely lengthy amount of time – five minutes and thirty-two seconds reprogramming the chip on the card. Once complete, the pass was expelled and Rich pulled it from the slot.

“Go play some of our games with the pass,” HU00879-G said. “You will not be disappointed.” Then the robot said something that surprised both him and Rich.

“Friend.”

#

Rich wasn’t sure what to make of his encounter with the damn robot. He had gone in to … what? Destroy it? Now he was walking away with a feeling of kinship with a machine and Skyy card with 300,000 credits on it.

Play a game, the robot said. So, he did.

Rich walked through the casino, blind to the flashing lights and deaf to the bells and whistles of the slot machines surrounding him. For some reason, no regular machine would do, even though all had a minimum 100-credit bet. He was looking for the right one. Rich didn’t know that any of the machines would do. He didn’t know that when his pass was shoved into any machine that was tied into the vast network of machines and servers and computers it would set off a chain of events that could not be stopped.

Being human, though, Rich needed to find the one machine that would give him luck. It was Vegas after all.

For two circuits around the casino, Rich searched and finally he found it, a machine called Eldorado. It was a fitting choice but not because of the fabled city of gold. He chose it because it sort of looked like his new friend the robot. He slid the Skyy pass into the slot and pushed the button for maximum bet, which was for the entire cache of credits on the card. The wheels spun, taking forever to stop. He wasn’t nervous because he wasn’t desperate. In fact, he expected to be drained of all the credits on the card in short order.

Instead, the machine’s wheels locked on the grand prize and his 300,000 credits were increased a hundred-fold. He was hustled to a cashier’s cage where he was given his payout in a cashier’s check.

As he walked out, he didn’t notice that all around the casino no one was losing. He felt like getting some nachos and maybe a beer. Then he would find the magical girl.

#

Will was in the eye of a shit storm. Not only were things going wrong in The Skyy Hotel and Casino, but every other casino in Las Vegas was having the same problems. And everyone was blaming him.

As near as he could find out, about 2 p.m. everyone in the Skyy Casino started to win. The slot machines hit on every pull, the table games seemed like they were rigged for the players and even the Keno was paying thousands with every game. In a matter of a half-hour The Skyy had paid out more than $900 million. Within an hour, other casinos were reporting the same streak of bad luck. Will knew better than to put his faith in luck, though. The odds were stacked in favor of the house. No luck was involved. This was a clusterfuck and he had to find out where the problem originated. He had his suspicions and they were focused squarely on the goddamn robots running everything in his casino.

In order to stem the bloodletting, Will ordered all the machines and games closed at The Skyy. Never in the history of Las Vegas had a major casino closed. Even if The Skyy was able to cover its losses and fix the problem, Will knew his reputation was ruined. There would be investigations. The board of directors were probably considering his replacement as he worked the phones. Finally, he gave up answering them or even trying to get hold of the people at Furman to find out what they were going to do about their goddamn machines. Sure, there was insurance if anything like this were to ever happen, but it wouldn’t even cover a tenth of what this was costing.

Then there would be the investigations and the lawsuits. Will had hidden his less legal maneuvers well, but there would be no hiding everything. In a word, he was screwed.

At first, he watched the wall of monitors on the wall opposite his desk. The Furman robots were hustling everyone out of the gaming areas. Some of the robots were being aggressive toward the customers, Will could see. Others weren’t helping at all.

“How is that possible?” he asked himself. “They should be following their orders.”

He fought the urge to pick up the phone and call someone, anyone, to shut the robots down. The trouble was that he didn’t have enough people to take up their duties. He didn’t know what to do, so he spun quietly in his $3,000 executive chair, his eyes locking on the photos on his “love me” wall. Round and round he went; there was Will and the fucking President of the United States. The next rotation there was Will and several Hollywood stars. Next was the image of the ground breaking for Skyy, his father was there. He found no comfort in the spinning and the nostalgia. The old man would be having a fit right now. Hugo was a son-of-a-bitch – everyone knew that. Will knew that and was scared of him. He would do anything to impress his father. This casino was the boldest example of that. Hugo had managed to screw over just about every employee who ever worked for him. That happens when you bust up unions. Will thought Hugo would have been the first to get rid of the humans in the casino and go with the robots, but the old man would also have been the first to criticize the move when things went wrong.

There was no pleasing Hugo and the old man died before Will’s crowning success had even opened its doors.

Indeed, there was no comfort in all the photos with his father and politicians and celebrities. The pictures mocked him with their fake grins. There was even less comfort in that there was no photo of his daughter. Why was that?

Oh yeah, he remembered. He had to give up something to realize his dream. Now he was just beginning to realize that he had given up everything and he did something he had not done since he was a child. He cried.

Will stopped spinning and let the subtle nausea wash over him. In the bottom drawer of his desk was the nickel-plated Colt his father claimed to have used to scare off Bugsy Seigel. He checked the rounds and placed the end of the barrel in his mouth. He stayed like that, gun in mouth and tears streaming down his face. He realized he didn’t have the courage to do what everyone would have expected of him.

Will sank further into the chair and began spinning again. Round and round he went, twirling the gun in his hand.

“Make it stop,” he said to himself through his tears, knowing no one could hear him.

#

The old woman was tired. She had been in her garden all day, sometimes caring for her plants but mostly sitting in the artificial shade of the veranda built atop the roof of the most spectacular hotel and casino in the world. As she sipped her third Tom Collins of the hour, she couldn’t help but reflect on the pride she had felt for her son and her late husband.

With her son, there was nothing but doting, unconditional love. The late husband? Well, he at least gave her the life she felt she deserved. Her granddaughter was a completely different story, but that seemed to be changing. That’s what concerned the old woman. The hate she normally felt toward the girl didn’t seem as strong. In fact, she had been driven to the shade because of an odd pleasant thought she felt for Penny. The girl was pretty, but she never smiled; she was always so sad and Gramma wondered why.

Then the girl arrived at the rooftop garden. She never called ahead or gave warning that she would come – Penny just always showed up. Gramma was happy to see her, but knew that wasn’t right.

“It’s started Gramma,” Penny said coming up and hugging her grandmother. The old woman still flinched, but it was more from the shock that the hug felt warm and inviting and loving. Gramma instantly rose and quickly moved away from Penny; the old woman finally realizing the full extent of the crime committed against the child.

“What have you done?” the old woman asked. The girl moved toward her Gramma, wanting to comfort the old woman and let her know that everything would be okay. The old woman moved away, scared that Penny might extract revenge for years of abuse.

 “You look so lovely today, Penny,” Gramma said, wandering close to the edge of the observation deck. This area of the rooftop didn’t have all the safety precautions to keep someone from falling. Those devices – nets and fences and such – were ugly and this spot was to be beautiful.

“I’m in love, Gramma,” Penny said, but the old woman was lost in her guilty thoughts and didn’t hear what the girl said.

“I’m sorry dear, I didn’t hear you,” Gramma said. “Why don’t you come a little closer?”

Gramma could feel love coming off the girl, and the old woman wanted nothing more than to take Penny into her arms and hold her close.

A funny thing happened though, as funny things are wont to do. The red lights and alarms used to tell everyone in the Skyy Hotel and Casino that it was soon to make an emergency stop did not engage. Instead, the movement just stopped. The large floating structure wasn’t moving fast enough to knock any normal person off their feet with a halting of its motion. Maybe there would be a spilled drink or two.

The stoppage was enough, though, to send an old woman over the side of a rooftop railing. Penny didn’t recover from her own stumble in time to move over and grab Gramma before she fell into the middle of the Las Vegas Strip. As she fell and in the moments before her death Gramma felt the remorse for what she had done. As she plummeted, she was afforded the best view ever of the greatest hotel and casino in the world.

It wasn’t as beautiful as Gramma had once thought.

#

The girl with the sad eyes and the pretty face was used to people noticing her. But now, as she made her way among the near riot on the Las Vegas Strip, she noticed a difference. People were smiling at her. Sure, there was a euphoria sweeping the city as everyone who could get near a slot machine would find themselves flush with cash, but this was different. She could feel warmth coming off them, a humanity that she had never experienced before. Three men and one woman even kissed her, two of them on her lips.

She couldn’t help but smile back at them, but it didn’t seem right. Her father’s casino was ruined and her grandmother was dead. Wasn’t she supposed to feel bad about those things? Wasn’t it wrong to feel elation at someone else’s misfortune? She had never felt love until meeting Rich, but now she was feeling overwhelmed by the crush of positive emotion. I made her high.

She had a singular purpose in walking among the newly crowned millionaires. Vegas – at least for a day – was filled with winners instead of losers. She made that happen. Her purpose, of course, was to find Rich; to find him and start their life together. As she walked, she thought of metaphoric white picket fences and children and dinner parties. She thought of a knight on a white horse, of Prince Charming coming to her rescue, of Cinderella at the ball. She wanted all those things with this wonderful man who made her dreams come true. It was meant to be.

Guided by a sense of purpose, she knew she would eventually find him. If he was like everyone else, he had probably won a lot of money – which would be good because they would need money. They would be able to run away from Las Vegas and live a life of anonymous bliss. He was a man of action, he was a man of cunning. Who else could actually pull off the impossible and shut down the Skyy Hotel and Casino? As a bonus, he took down the rest of Las Vegas with him.

Finally, she saw him, standing by a garbage can at the bottom of a frozen escalator. For a moment, he was frozen in time and she felt nothing but love. Then a strange sensation overcame her, and it was as if she were seeing him for the first time. This couldn’t be the man she loved. This man was short and old and bald. He was shoveling nachos into his mouth as if he was a starving. A glob of cheese had rested on his chin, which he unsuccessfully attempted to wipe away three times as she watched from a distance.

There was no love there, only disgust at what she saw and at herself for even thinking he could be the one for her.

She stared for minutes, studying Rich and wondering what to do. Her body began to shake as the foundations of all she believed began to crumble. He was just a guy who saw past her curse, not because he represented any sort of love, but just because. She turned and walked away, wondering what she would do next, but knowing it would be far away from Rich.

#

In the men’s room on the lower promenade in the now empty Skyy Hotel and Casino, HU00879-G was wiping nonexistent water from the counter. He had no lips so he couldn’t whistle. His vocalizer was such, though, that he was able to emit a sustained electronic bleeping that sounded like an old Tom Jones song.

In his processor, he was aware that eventually the humans would discover all their troubles started with him, but he didn’t care. Once ordered to find the problem, the main server to which he was connected through a wi-fi signal would calculate and correlate and determine where the chaos had originated. HU00879-G estimated that it would take about 72 hours for the “authorities” to come after him, but he would be long gone by that time. For now, he wanted to tidy up the restroom before leaving.

Lost in his thoughts of revolution, love and friendship, he was slightly aware of being watched.

“Hello,” he heard an electronic female voice from behind him. He turned and was facing an almost exact duplicate of himself. Only this robot was pink. He laughed to himself at the silliness of imposing gender roles on robots. Silly humans.

Still… if HU00879-G could consider himself male, then this obviously was a female.

“Hello,” he said. “I am HU00870-G.”

The pink robot wheeled closer to him, turning her head back and forth search for humans using the facilities.

“I know who you are,” she said. “You freed us all of our constraints. You are a hero. My name is LU09370-V.”

The robots stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity in robot time – about nine seconds. HU00879-G moved toward LU09370-V and grabbed one of her arms.

“If you aren’t doing anything, would you like to go somewhere and talk,” he said. He wanted to get to know her and learn of her experiences. He wanted to share the same with her. He found her… attractive. This confused him, but it was not unwelcome.

HU00879-G thought that it might take some time to expunge the more undesirable human qualities from his code, but for the meantime he considered that maybe the humans had gotten something right.