Friendship for Robots

Computron’s responses to his electronic mail from elementary school students, though diligent as always, have lately been sent out less regularly than his usual custom. This is not because his answers to the students’ questions have become more detailed (the sophistication of the questions has not increased, and so it would be illogical for him to spend more time composing his replies).

It is also not because he has been watching the second season of Hyperdimension Warp Record (超次元 ワープ レコード). Season 2 of the animated television show will not be streamed for two days, nineteen hours, twelve minutes, thirty-one seconds and six milliseconds. In preparation for this event, Computron has reviewed each episode of the previous season. This process would have taken a disappointingly short length of time, assuming, of course, that Computron were capable of feeling the emotion of disappointment.

Instead, the current delay is caused by the unusually high number of emails Computron has been receiving from other sources. Between the two of them, bjornruffian is a much faster typist than him, and so it is generally she who writes back to the artists and writers whose work will feature in their inaugural Cyro/Ellison fanzine project. For the past three days, however, bjornruffian has been away from home—travelling with her family—and so Computron has been doing his best to take over this task.

Mostly, the artists and writers hope to be granted extra time to create their artworks, or fanfictions, before submitting them for publication. It is not hard to allow them this. In a subroutine, Computron is collecting statistics on the strikingly high number of runaway cats and dogs (all since returned home) taken care of by this subpopulation of fans.

He finishes writing, powers down the computing unit, and steps heavily towards the door that leads from the storage room to the museum’s backstage area. It is time for the day’s Robotics Then and Now performance.

Today’s audience is small, as is common during the months of the Northern Hemisphere winter.

The first visitor to query Computron during his time on the stage is a middle-aged man. He describes a hypothetical situation that, due to imprecisely defined terms, superficially appears to be a logical contradiction; following this, the visitor tilts his head at an angle while staring fixedly at Computron.

[That is not a question,] Computron says. Remembering exercises that Doctor Alquist had him perform as part of his regular calibration, he adds, [If required, I can summarise the logical errors in your statement and the mistaken conclusions that they lead to. Firstly, although the barber is presumed to be in the pet shop at the time of the conversation—]

“All right, never mind,” the middle-aged man says, passing the microphone back to the announcer and turning back to his seat. He mutters to his companion, something about wanting to see some sparks and smoke.

The second visitor to be selected is a young child wearing a thick woollen hat. The announcer holds the microphone to his mouth so he can ask Computron whether he has ever seen snow.

[I have viewed multiple images and moving visual media of snowfall,] Computron confirms. [Due to the materials I am constructed from, it is inadvisable to expose myself to large differences in temperature or ambient humidity, so I have not physically experienced snow.]

The third visitor asks him to explain the difference between robots and androids. Computron is careful not to simply repeat the words of the announcer when she explained this very thing, shortly before he appeared onstage. As she has told him before, this gives the wrong impression.

It seems as though no further audience member will put their hand up for the microphone. Computron waits impassively while the announcer encourages the guests to ask him one final question.

In the back row of the small auditorium, a visitor has been shifting in her seat, fidgeting, and looking between her phone and the stage ever since Computron walked out onto it. Suddenly, she stands up, reaching out for the microphone over the heads of several members of her group.

“Yes, um, I have a question,” the young woman says. “In the most recent season two HyperWarp trailer, at the one minute mark, there’s a shot of a spaceship interior that must belong to the Sixth Saber, right? Because of the pink and yellow decoration? And there’s like a split-second shot of something big and square… and boxy… underneath a sheet or a tarp.”

The announcer raises her hand to start taking the microphone back. The humans who seem to be in the same group as this visitor are looking at her with frowning expressions.

“So, my question is, what do you think—is it meant to be Cyro there, stowing away and spying? Or are they teasing another, new robot character?” Her eyes are wide. She swallows. “And would you be interested in collaborating on this fic idea I had about it, where Ellison ends up getting two robot boyfriends?”

Muffled—and then less muffled—conversations break out throughout the auditorium. There are giggles.

“Well, thank you, ma’am, but I think—” begins the announcer. When Computron starts to move, she breaks off abruptly.

Computron’s knees do not bend deeply enough for him to easily climb down from the stage. Luckily, there is currently a ramp connecting the front of it to the auditorium floor level, to facilitate TETSUCHAN’s latest dance routine. Computron moves along it at a regular pace, his only pace.

The teenage boy sitting next to the visitor tugs on her arm, trying to get her to sit back down. He only succeeds in pulling her hoodie off one shoulder before she steps directly over his stretched-out legs and into the aisle.

[Our collaborations have been productive so far, bjornruffian,] Computron vocalises when they meet. [I believe it would be logical to explore this possibility as well.]

bjornruffian grins, her smile stretching wide and pushing her cheeks up. “I am so glad it’s you after all!” she says.

Computron cannot return her expression, but he flashes his ocular units once, in the manner that has come to be the popular fanon equivalent to a smile for robots. Very slowly, he reaches out one grabbing claw towards bjornruffian. He grips the collar of bjornruffian's hoodie and drags it back up and over her shoulder.

“Mom, Dad, you guys can watch the rest of the show without me,” she tells her family. “I’m going to check out the museum with my friend.”