Please Enter Specifications
By Steven M Nedeau
(October 2021)
It wasn’t the first time Larry had seen a synthetic. The corporations had been using them for decades, replacing the clunky wheeled animatrons of the factory floor in favor of the more mobile and intelligent humanoid look-alikes. These manufactured replacements moved as efficiently as any machine to come before them, but now the new models held the fluidity of movement indicative of a natural lifeform, no more wobbling back and forth with every movement, no more slow and deliberate steps as the machine calculated the correct balance to walk a distance of three feet.
He didn’t like them. He didn’t trust them. But, as this was the only workforce the company found themselves willing to invest in, they were what he was stuck with.
The company didn’t call them robots, a name popular as far back as the twentieth century. The old-fashioned name of robot conjured visions of villains, a consequence of television and film subplots showing the eventual replacement or downfall of man as a result of his own inventions. In industry, the term robot came to represent tubular arms, rotating joints, and pincer-like claws of the assembly line. These new creations were called plasthetics, though the workers still lucky enough to maintain employment, mockingly called them ‘plastys’ or ‘synths’ when in more relaxed discussions.
Larry had spent a decade watching the plastys move about on the factory floor. He had watched them make the wrong decisions and return to the starting point to rethink their order of operations on several occasions, once per day at least. A light behind their eyes would illuminate red and they would stand straight and still as the functions within their synthetic brain compiled. The factory models were not new. They were models rejected from other industries.
Days and days of research were required to choose the right collection of plastys specifications to keep the factory floor running smoothly. One had to determine length of limb, dexterity levels, processing speeds, frame strength, color, and program complexity before ordering.
Larry inspected the plastys tending to his wife. This one was far different than any he had seen before. It was new. Its shape obviously female, Larry instinctively referred to it as her. Her eyes had a grey color and her hair, a mixture of brown and blond, rested across her shoulders. This plasthic wasn’t on the factory floor. This one was assigned to deliver a baby, his baby.
Larry watched his wife, relaxed as if she were ordering a drink at the tropical spa on the bottom floor of their apartment building. It was her first baby. She should have been tearing at the sheets in pain, blood vessels bursting at the pressure building and subsiding within her tiny body, but the implanted pain inhibitor chips were performing their duties as prescribed. Smiling, the tiny woman in the delivery bed took her husband’s hand, no doubt taking comfort in the level of expertise her mate had built during years of supervising plasthetics.
Turning to Larry, the plasthetic said in a pleasant and cool voice. “You have chosen a son,” Her eyes flashed a cool blue pattern, designed to remind those around her of her synthetic origins.
“Yes, I am planning on a son. Why do you ask?”
“I have monitored the child in your wife’s womb and can confirm the sex.”
“Thank you,” Larry responded without thinking. Synthetics did not normally receive expressions of gratitude.
“The eyes will be green like those of your great grandmother. Dexterity should be of the same level as a trained gymnast by the age of eleven. An aptitude for programming should appear within the fifth year.” The synthetic turned to Larry’s wife. “Education files have already been transferred to your domicile.”
“And the hair, will her hair be dark like my husband’s?” Larry’s wife asked, eager to learn more.
The synthetic smiled reassuringly, “You will find that all of your requests and specifications have been met to your satisfaction.”