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Description
The way that Stevenson led Aurora past the twelfth engineering laboratory appeared normal to the few students that were inside, and few looked in their direction. A general murmur of greetings arose, but among the voices came a worried, “Aurora? Professor, what’s the matter?”

The professor stopped his movement towards his office, and took a breath to collect his thoughts. “All of you. Listen to me.”

Twenty pairs of hands froze.

“It’s the riots, isn’t it?” asked Jen. “Is she in danger?”

“Aurora is not in danger. Although thinly veiled, her defenses are still working - but probably not for long. Myself, however... I can no longer leave campus for fear of being shot.”

More engineers had noticed the commotion, and were crowding around nearby to hear what the famed visionary had to say. An audible, uneasy rage sank upon the hearts of his students. “How bad is it right now?” Jen asked, making her way towards the two.

Aurora let go of the professor’s hand and headed into the office in an android-equivalent daze. Although Jen made a motion to stop her, he took no notice of her actions. “We barely made it here. I let her walk a hundred paces behind me so that she wouldn’t get caught up in the action. Unfortunately, that meant she had to watch it all from afar. It was mainly reporters today, and one of them asked if the riots in Trot were worrying to me. That’s when I knew.”

Even the safehouse of robotics - Trot, the city known for the starscrapers and millions of robots employed to maintain them - was under attack. Widely considered to be the most prominent definition of a robotic Utopian society, and a forefront example of what an Androidic society would look like, Stevenson had believed that Trot could not fall under the hands of the conservatives. Yet, nearly a decade after the first Android was introduced (silently, of course), Trot had slowly crumbled.

Behold - such was the power of government. Though strong in its business, Trot was tied with its hands behind its back with red tape and steel wire - a new term, recently coined by the Global Press, describing the intertwining of robots and androids in legal matters. But what alternative had there been? A being that, for all intensive purposes, could not be discerned from a biological human - it was bound to raise questions about morality, and call into attention the new laws that would have to be made to keep them within the weak grasp of society.

There were those who, with good reason, refused to acknowledge the humanity within an android. A robot was a robot, they said, regardless of appearance. Machines were made by humans to become tools when needed, not to go around making decisions for themselves. Robots could be controlled sufficiently with the Three Laws - but those didn’t apply to androids; not yet. The mad scientist, as Stevenson was lovingly referred to as, stubbornly rejected the notion that androids were bound by the same laws as robots were.

There were those who called for androids, due to their innate humanness, to simply abide by all laws imposed on humans. That would imply that androids were as much human as any person on the street was, and thus grant them the basic rights of a human being. The well-off, educated, and younger demographic saw this as the best possible scenario, with the older and poorer violently protesting against it. Stevenson assumed that robots would, based on their profession, also vote differently - but they weren’t allowed to voice opinion, so it would remain a mystery.

“Anyways. For now, I will remain in my office. Perhaps I will wander around the labs when I am bored, but until the noise dies down, I cannot leave.”

Several voiced their concern, and even more offered to bring him food and other necessities. Stevenson gave them his best smile, and though the ends of his lips were turned upwards, there was only sadness. “Thank you. All of you. Let’s try and keep this commotion down, though. There is still work to be done, and I cannot let you be distracted by the attention I draw.” He turned away from the dispersing audience, and whispered to Jen, “Come to my office.”

The walk was without words - only the sound of sneakers lightly tromping on the carpets. Four years ago, androidics research had become the new space race, and with such popularity, came funds. Stevenson saw a flood of sponsorships and supporters, and acquired a new lot next to Livinston University. On it, he developed four new buildings, each dedicated to some facet or other of androidics and robotics. He had also, in that time, been offered an honorary doctorate, but Stevenson declined softly. Though the Dean insisted vehemently, Stevenson waved the topic aside every time, pointing out that Jen would be more deserving as the most dedicated researcher and now professor.

Stevenson would have liked to mention that Jen had been the mentor of Aurora for the past six years, but the fact that Aurora was an android was still a secret. He wanted to present her to the world as the greatest symbol of an android - perfect, without flaw, in all aspects. He frowned slightly at the thought, and Jen, walking beside him, quietly noted it.

Even the best android today was prone to physical failure, and mental breakdowns. Constant maintenance was required to keep them in the required shape to avoid the Uncanny Valley, and that was costly. Most androids were research subjects, sent out for a month at a time and recovered at the end of the trial run.

His train of thought was broken as he stepped into his office, elegantly minimalist with a sprinkling of color, cast by a glass sculpture gifted by a graduating student from his first androidics course. It was in the shape of a bird, brilliant in colors - and within the confines of the rainbow hung a music box, ready to sing its song whenever an hour struck. The wide skylight high above gave it life, powering a small solar cell on the music box.

The bird chirped nine times, before falling silent once more. Stevenson pointed at a soft couch, on which Aurora was already sitting at, and Jen obliged, positioning herself next to the girl. He himself took his seat behind his desk, settling into the deep folds of the black leather.

“Aurora?” he sighed.

“Yes, professor?”

“Keep your hearing tuned. If someone gets within ten yards of the door, motion to us.”

“Okay. Should I also ignore what you will be discussing?”

“That doesn’t matter. Jen,” he abruptly addressed her, and she looked up expectantly. “You know that this talk was going to come at some point.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Jennifer Leila. When I can no longer take care of Androidics-”

“Professor!”

“-you will be my successor. I will pass on all duties and responsibilities to you. Aurora serves as witness to my statement.”

“I can’t do that-”

He shushed her hastily. “I know it’s a lot of work. Lots of pressure. I don’t blame you for being scared, stunned. It won’t be sudden. I’ve already granted you your new office” he wiggled a key between his fingers “and I’ll gradually shift ownership to you. You let me know when you’re ready to take the next step, and I’ll put one foot forward at a time.”

He sighed, finished with his declaration. “My time grows shorter every day, Jen. You’ve been with me the longest, and from day one you were destined to take-”

Aurora raised her hand, and glanced at Stevenson. He nodded, and continued. “-audio clusters are having trouble adapting to the newer noises. I was thinking we could use the old documentaries on Earth to scrape some animal sounds and send them through processing.”
Jen stumbled behind his lead. “Oh, uh... well, we’d have to- to find the documentaries. Which one in particular were you thinking about?”

A student strode past, waving to the three through the glass wall. Aurora was the only one to wave back.

“Oh, I watched a brilliant one last night! ...”

—

“Professor?”

It was near midnight, and most students had headed home for the day. The hallways were mostly dark, aside from the occasional floor light. Stevenson had camped out in his office, deciding to sleep on his couch. Several backpacks leaned against the legs of his desk, filled with snacks and candies and notes of encouragement. He was sincerely grateful to his students for thinking of him, and to go out of their way to take care of him. This must be what having children would be like, he had thought through his watering eyes.

He sat up clumsily, grabbing the back of the couch for support. “What is it, Aurora?”

Her voice had a distinct child-like playfulness to it, but a small undertone of maturity danced between her words. If an angel was to whisper into his ear that his time had come, he would undoubtedly mistake it for Aurora playing a trick on him. “Are you really going to sleep here tonight?” She sat down on the sofa where his head had been a moment ago, eyes glimmering in the moonlight.

“You don’t suppose I’m filming a movie here, do you?”

“No, but I do think we can go home without trouble this late into the night.”

“But that would be like betraying my students, Aurora.”

She tilted her head slightly. “How?”

Stevenson pointed his chin at the bags on the floor. “They’ve given me those, knowing I would be staying here overnight and probably over the weekend. If I left now, I would have been taking advantage of their kindness and making them do something wholly unnecessary.”

Aurora shook her head lightly, and shrugged. “I don’t get you people.”

He laughed in response. “By ‘you people’ do you mean us engineers? Or humankind in general?”

“Hmm...” She stood up to leave the room, and before she stepped out the door, Aurora turned to give the professor a grin. “Both.”

—

A squad car slowly rolled up to the gates of Livinston University. A well-decorated officer stepped out of the passenger side, and spoke a few words to the officer behind the wheel before closing the door and walking into the arch. The police car drove off, leaving the officer with no backup. Anyone in the police department would notice this as inappropriate behavior, but here, the students didn’t care. All they knew was that some high executive officer was on their school grounds - and something bad was going to happen to someone.

Another teacher scurried up to the officer, attempting to delay whatever might happen until the Dean was able to talk to them. The teacher was not successful, and the officer managed to pry the location of the Androidics Research Building from them. By the time the Dean arrived on the scene, the officer had long left.

The students within the building parted to allow the officer through, although they tactfully blocked the entrances to several high-importance rooms - including the hallway towards Stevenson’s office. The officer knew this, of course, and made no attempt to push her way through. Rather, she asked softly, “I need to see Professor Stevenson.”

A male student behind her replied. “Stevenson is busy. He’s totally fine, if you’re doing a routine check up on missing individuals. He has been in here working for the past four days.”

“Why don’t you let him know I’m here. Tell him Maddie’s come calling.”

Description
The way that Stevenson led Aurora past the twelfth engineering laboratory appeared normal to the few students that were inside, and few looked in their direction. A general murmur of greetings arose, but among the voices came a worried, “Aurora? Professor, what’s the matter?”

The professor stopped his movement towards his office, and took a breath to collect his thoughts. “All of you. Listen to me.”

Twenty pairs of hands froze.

“It’s the riots, isn’t it?” asked Jen. “Is she in danger?”

“Aurora is not in danger. Although thinly veiled, her defenses are still working - but probably not for long. Myself, however... I can no longer leave campus for fear of being shot.”

More engineers had noticed the commotion, and were crowding around nearby to hear what the famed visionary had to say. An audible, uneasy rage sank upon the hearts of his students. “How bad is it right now?” Jen asked, making her way towards the two.

Aurora let go of the professor’s hand and headed into the office in an android-equivalent daze. Although Jen made a motion to stop her, he took no notice of her actions. “We barely made it here. I let her walk a hundred paces behind me so that she wouldn’t get caught up in the action. Unfortunately, that meant she had to watch it all from afar. It was mainly reporters today, and one of them asked if the riots in Trot were worrying to me. That’s when I knew.”

Even the safehouse of robotics - Trot, the city known for the starscrapers and millions of robots employed to maintain them - was under attack. Widely considered to be the most prominent definition of a robotic Utopian society, and a forefront example of what an Androidic society would look like, Stevenson had believed that Trot could not fall under the hands of the conservatives. Yet, nearly a decade after the first Android was introduced (silently, of course), Trot had slowly crumbled.

Behold - such was the power of government. Though strong in its business, Trot was tied with its hands behind its back with red tape and steel wire - a new term, recently coined by the Global Press, describing the intertwining of robots and androids in legal matters. But what alternative had there been? A being that, for all intensive purposes, could not be discerned from a biological human - it was bound to raise questions about morality, and call into attention the new laws that would have to be made to keep them within the weak grasp of society.

There were those who, with good reason, refused to acknowledge the humanity within an android. A robot was a robot, they said, regardless of appearance. Machines were made by humans to become tools when needed, not to go around making decisions for themselves. Robots could be controlled sufficiently with the Three Laws - but those didn’t apply to androids; not yet. The mad scientist, as Stevenson was lovingly referred to as, stubbornly rejected the notion that androids were bound by the same laws as robots were.

There were those who called for androids, due to their innate humanness, to simply abide by all laws imposed on humans. That would imply that androids were as much human as any person on the street was, and thus grant them the basic rights of a human being. The well-off, educated, and younger demographic saw this as the best possible scenario, with the older and poorer violently protesting against it. Stevenson assumed that robots would, based on their profession, also vote differently - but they weren’t allowed to voice opinion, so it would remain a mystery.

“Anyways. For now, I will remain in my office. Perhaps I will wander around the labs when I am bored, but until the noise dies down, I cannot leave.”

Several voiced their concern, and even more offered to bring him food and other necessities. Stevenson gave them his best smile, and though the ends of his lips were turned upwards, there was only sadness. “Thank you. All of you. Let’s try and keep this commotion down, though. There is still work to be done, and I cannot let you be distracted by the attention I draw.” He turned away from the dispersing audience, and whispered to Jen, “Come to my office.”

The walk was without words - only the sound of sneakers lightly tromping on the carpets. Four years ago, androidics research had become the new space race, and with such popularity, came funds. Stevenson saw a flood of sponsorships and supporters, and acquired a new lot next to Livinston University. On it, he developed four new buildings, each dedicated to some facet or other of androidics and robotics. He had also, in that time, been offered an honorary doctorate, but Stevenson declined softly. Though the Dean insisted vehemently, Stevenson waved the topic aside every time, pointing out that Jen would be more deserving as the most dedicated researcher and now professor.

Stevenson would have liked to mention that Jen had been the mentor of Aurora for the past six years, but the fact that Aurora was an android was still a secret. He wanted to present her to the world as the greatest symbol of an android - perfect, without flaw, in all aspects. He frowned slightly at the thought, and Jen, walking beside him, quietly noted it.

Even the best android today was prone to physical failure, and mental breakdowns. Constant maintenance was required to keep them in the required shape to avoid the Uncanny Valley, and that was costly. Most androids were research subjects, sent out for a month at a time and recovered at the end of the trial run.

His train of thought was broken as he stepped into his office, elegantly minimalist with a sprinkling of color, cast by a glass sculpture gifted by a graduating student from his first androidics course. It was in the shape of a bird, brilliant in colors - and within the confines of the rainbow hung a music box, ready to sing its song whenever an hour struck. The wide skylight high above gave it life, powering a small solar cell on the music box.

The bird chirped nine times, before falling silent once more. Stevenson pointed at a soft couch, on which Aurora was already sitting at, and Jen obliged, positioning herself next to the girl. He himself took his seat behind his desk, settling into the deep folds of the black leather.

“Aurora?” he sighed.

“Yes, professor?”

“Keep your hearing tuned. If someone gets within ten yards of the door, motion to us.”

“Okay. Should I also ignore what you will be discussing?”

“That doesn’t matter. Jen,” he abruptly addressed her, and she looked up expectantly. “You know that this talk was going to come at some point.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Jennifer Leila. When I can no longer take care of Androidics-”

“Professor!”

“-you will be my successor. I will pass on all duties and responsibilities to you. Aurora serves as witness to my statement.”

“I can’t do that-”

He shushed her hastily. “I know it’s a lot of work. Lots of pressure. I don’t blame you for being scared, stunned. It won’t be sudden. I’ve already granted you your new office” he wiggled a key between his fingers “and I’ll gradually shift ownership to you. You let me know when you’re ready to take the next step, and I’ll put one foot forward at a time.”

He sighed, finished with his declaration. “My time grows shorter every day, Jen. You’ve been with me the longest, and from day one you were destined to take-”

Aurora raised her hand, and glanced at Stevenson. He nodded, and continued. “-audio clusters are having trouble adapting to the newer noises. I was thinking we could use the old documentaries on Earth to scrape some animal sounds and send them through processing.”
Jen stumbled behind his lead. “Oh, uh... well, we’d have to- to find the documentaries. Which one in particular were you thinking about?”

A student strode past, waving to the three through the glass wall. Aurora was the only one to wave back.

“Oh, I watched a brilliant one last night! ...”

—

“Professor?”

It was near midnight, and most students had headed home for the day. The hallways were mostly dark, aside from the occasional floor light. Stevenson had camped out in his office, deciding to sleep on his couch. Several backpacks leaned against the legs of his desk, filled with snacks and candies and notes of encouragement. He was sincerely grateful to his students for thinking of him, and to go out of their way to take care of him. This must be what having children would be like, he had thought through his watering eyes.

He sat up clumsily, grabbing the back of the couch for support. “What is it, Aurora?”

Her voice had a distinct child-like playfulness to it, but a small undertone of maturity danced between her words. If an angel was to whisper into his ear that his time had come, he would undoubtedly mistake it for Aurora playing a trick on him. “Are you really going to sleep here tonight?” She sat down on the sofa where his head had been a moment ago, eyes glimmering in the moonlight.

“You don’t suppose I’m filming a movie here, do you?”

“No, but I do think we can go home without trouble this late into the night.”

“But that would be like betraying my students, Aurora.”

She tilted her head slightly. “How?”

Stevenson pointed his chin at the bags on the floor. “They’ve given me those, knowing I would be staying here overnight and probably over the weekend. If I left now, I would have been taking advantage of their kindness and making them do something wholly unnecessary.”

Aurora shook her head lightly, and shrugged. “I don’t get you people.”

He laughed in response. “By ‘you people’ do you mean us engineers? Or humankind in general?”

“Hmm...” She stood up to leave the room, and before she stepped out the door, Aurora turned to give the professor a grin. “Both.”

—

A squad car slowly rolled up to the gates of Livinston University. A well-decorated officer stepped out of the passenger side, and spoke a few words to the officer behind the wheel before closing the door and walking into the arch. The police car drove off, leaving the officer with no backup. Anyone in the police department would notice this as inappropriate behavior, but here, the students didn’t care. All they knew was that some high executive officer was on their school grounds - and something bad was going to happen to someone.

Another teacher scurried up to the officer, attempting to delay whatever might happen until the Dean was able to talk to them. The teacher was not successful, and the officer managed to pry the location of the Androidics Research Building from them. By the time the Dean arrived on the scene, the officer had long left.

The students within the building parted to allow the officer through, although they tactfully blocked the entrances to several high-importance rooms - including the hallway towards Stevenson’s office. The officer knew this, of course, and made no attempt to push her way through. Rather, she asked softly, “I need to see Professor Stevenson.”

A male student behind her replied. “Stevenson is busy. He’s totally fine, if you’re doing a routine check up on missing individuals. He has been in here working for the past four days.”

“Why don’t you let him know I’m here. Tell him Maddie’s come calling.”