
The Story
In
the not too distant future, AI research suddenly experiences a breakthrough
and computer programs can be made as intelligent as chimpanzees. This
makes it possible to mass-produce robots for taking over tedious chores
previously handled by unskilled labor, like garbage disposal, mail
delivery and talk show hosting.
This new generation of servant robots, popularly titled
"urban droids" or urbanoids for short, becomes a huge success.
They are inexpensive, they are practical, they come in a variety of
different colors and models. Everybody wants one.
To
make life easier for robot owners, most local retailers install a
special control server that automatically transmits weekly minor software
updates and bi-annual major revisions to each unit, by radio waves.
This totally eliminates the need for customer support about anything
else than mechanical failure.
The only weak link in the system is the server itself. But it comes
with a warranty and its software was created by the same company who
brought the world six generations of DOS. They assure people
there's nothing to worry about. They have thought of everything.
They said they
had solved the year 2000 problem.
They lied.
On April 26, 2000, the control server in a small town accidentally
transmits the wrong system update information to all local robot units.
There is a file name discrepancy and instead of the intended code
replacements, it grabs the system administrator's saved settings file
for Final Doom Quakem Raider VI. Then it gasps a last "WinErr:
013" and crashes. As a result, every droid in town gets its programming
replaced by one single directive: destroy all human life.
Panic ensues
as the formerly obedient robots go after their owners, but eventually
everyone gets evacuated, most with only minor injuries. The military
sets up road blocks and seals all possible exits from town, to keep
the robots from spreading. Phone lines and communication cables are
similarly cut, just in case the droids would attempt to pass on their
directive over the network. When it turns out that there is no way
to revoke the faulty programming, a quick decision is made to fire-bomb
the area at nightfall, unless the problem has somehow resolved itself
by then.
What nobody knows is that the town was never completely
evacuated after all. You, Erwin O'Skunk -- an out-of-work TV
repairman, were soundly asleep during the commotion, having partied
yourself into a coma the night before. When you eventually wake up
you are completely alone. After your initial disorientation and hangover
clear up, you manage to piece together what has been going on by listening
to the radio.
You realize that you won't be getting any outside help. Nobody will
miss you anytime soon and there is no way you can communicate to the
rest of the world that you are still alive. There is only one thing
to do. You will simply have to save the town (and yourself) on your
own, by destroying or incapacitating every single droid before the
bombing starts.
So
you rush into your hobby room and build yourself a weapon and some
protection out of the junk you've got lying around. Adding a trenchcoat
and some sturdy boots, you grab a toolbox and get going. Somehow you
feel confident that you will be able to handle this crisis -- or at
least die trying.
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