Be Careful What You Wish for....

by

Mary Jo Rabe

 

 

Daniel Birkhofer stuffed his hands into his pockets as he trotted along the cement path on the windy north bank of the local, Freiburg Dreisam River, his "road to work". As usual, the shallow river was flowing quite rapidly, with icy water coming down from the mountain streams of the Black Forest.

The cold, hostile air whipped through his pants and shirt, or maybe he just imagined the chill when he looked toward the Oberau Bridge and involuntarily held his breath.

Actually quite a sturdy structure, this bridge had been built in the nineteenth century back when they built things to last. The Oberau Bridge had a statue of a dragon at one end and of Saint George, one of the patron saints of the city of Freiburg, at the other. Too bad statues of patron saints didn't take much interest in frail, living human beings.

Daniel, now undeniably middle-aged with his increased girth, was worried as always. He brushed his thinning, brown hair back from his eyes and peered under the bridge from the path on the riverbank. No shivering faces stared out from under the bridge, especially not the familiar face he looked for, but also was afraid of seeing.

No wonder. No homeless people were there. Those municipal authority bastards had dumped huge, sharp, gray boulders onto the sheltered area under the bridge where homeless people gathered. Now, no one could lie down next to the path; no one could even stand or sit there.

Without these boulders, the area between the path and the wall of the bridge had been almost spacious. It had been a popular spot for the homeless, not far from the picturesque, Freiburg old city, where they could beg tourists for money and with easy access to the amazingly clean water of the Dreisam. The space was protected from the wind and rain by the bridge and the embankment.

Daniel's father, Michael, had "lived" under Freiburg bridges off and on for the past ten years, despite Daniel's relentless and fervent efforts to rescue him, to get him a roof over his head, treatment for his delusions, and decent food. However, Daniel's father would have none of it. He lived in his own nightmarish world and refused to leave it. At intermittent intervals, he screamed at Daniel that this was his road to happiness and Daniel should get off it.

Loss of his job at age fifty-five, increased alcohol abuse of himself and physical abuse of others, and a divorce had sent Michael barreling off the rails and out of organized society. He never came back, no matter how hard Daniel tried to save him.

Daniel kept his clumsy physique from bumping into the boulders. They must have been deposited yesterday afternoon. You could still detect the stench of urine and vomit in the air. He worried about what had happened and could only hope that Michael hadn't been there when the boulders arrived.

Michael was gaunt but tall, and his demons often caused him to engage in violent verbal attacks and sometimes physical ones against perceived assailants. He frequently shook his fists wildly and yelled for no apparent reason. These gestures were generally misunderstood.

Maybe Herr Hund, his father's gentle and good-natured Irish wolfhound, had protected Michael from himself and prevented the worst possible outcome this time around. Herr Hund was the only creature Michael was willing to talk to, and one of the reasons Michael refused to spend even one night in a shelter, since most of them didn't allow dogs.

Daniel kept trying to get help for Michael, but Michael managed to slip through all possible safety nets. Most of the time, Michael acted like he didn't recognize Daniel and therefore refused to go anywhere with him. When he recognized Daniel, he told him to go away.

Social workers tried to explain to Michael what benefits were available to him, even if he didn't have a permanent address. Every time Michael was taken to the state psychiatric hospital, doctors there were forced to release him two days later and could only prescribe various medications, which Michael consumed for a while and then didn't.

The police in Freiburg knew Michael and treated him kindly whenever he had a meltdown, but also said there was nothing they could do, that there was no legal way to force Michael off the streets.

Officially, Michael wasn't a danger to others and was only a danger to himself because of his substance abuse issues and haphazard eating habits. He managed to scrounge enough money together from returning bottles for deposit money and begging. Every now and then, he would accept money from Daniel, but never food or clothing for himself, only food for Herr Hund.

Daniel used Herr Hund as an excuse to get Michael to go to the Band-Aid Barracks, a church-supported facility that provided morning and evening meals to the homeless, as well as showers, washing machines, dryers, and volunteer doctors and dentists. The doctors there also treated Herr Hund's occasional injuries.

Still, Daniel couldn't sleep at night when he thought of Michael out in the cold, wet weather. This had long since affected his work as Dean of the University of Freiburg's Graduate School of Robotics, which is where he should be now instead of hunting for Michael under bridges along the Dreisam River.

Sighing, Daniel climbed up the steps to the Schwabentor stop and waited for the next streetcar to take him to his institute. Regardless of his problems with Michael, Daniel had work to do, students who were dependent on him, obligations to fulfill to the university if he wanted to take his job seriously, which he did. His job was the only bearable part of his life.

More often than not, he felt overwhelmed and alone. Trying to help his father the past ten years had sabotaged any attempts at a serious relationship. Or, at least so far it had been too much for the women he met.

###

Daniel sat in the back of the modern conference room with its light-blue walls, varnished hardwood floor, and picture windows through which he could see the tiny Freiburg airport. He did feel some stirrings of pride. He and his students made good use of all the equipment at their disposal. It was easy to get grants for robotic research; companies literally threw money at them.

Today his genuinely talented students were to give their presentations. They were mostly good kids, industrious, imaginative. Some of them were even as obsessed with robots as he was.

Frau Hauser, a slender, blonde, thirtyish woman, waved her hands briefly, and her presentation lit up the entire wall. That was clever, teaching sign language to the virtual smart speaker. Frau Hauser always came up with clever, though not always practical or useful, ideas. Daniel loved to listen to her.

"The ten robot helpers at the Bechtold Nursing Home have been a complete success," she began while the video feed showed soft, human-looking, malleable, plastic robots with cheerful, child-like faces completing various tasks. They helped patients eat and drink, washed them, dressed them, took walks with them, played checkers with them, played a piano, and encouraged sing-alongs.

"The patients accept them and listen to them."

"And our newest 8.0 robots are almost indestructible," Frau Hauser continued. "Their pliable structures can absorb blows or bullets and immediately re-grow the plastic "tissue" around slash injuries. However, when they need to protect the human beings under their care, they can stiffen their appendages and propel themselves at speeds of over sixty kilometers per hour.

"So," she continued. "Now it's time for the next logical step. With additional AI capabilities, robots could do routine blood work, administer medication, and accompany patients off the nursing home grounds. It would be especially useful for Alzheimer patients if they had a constant robot companion who could be reached by phone or located by GPS every time the patient spontaneously decided to take a walk. Our robots don't mind midnight strolls."

"You're suggesting supplying nursing home patients with individual robot caregivers, not just companions?" Daniel asked. "How much will it cost to get such robots manufactured?"

"I'm sure the price will go down with volume," Frau Hauser said. "In the long run, robots are cheaper than human employees. I'm thinking, each nursing home could also print up its own robots as needed; the university would just provide the kits and our proprietary software, although we could also recommend the best 3D printers."

Herr Ganswein, the youthful class troublemaker with the fake, Einstein-like hairstyle, interrupted her. "That's inhuman, having machines care for nursing home patients instead of human beings." His chubby, red face looked like a balloon about to explode. Daniel sighed. Herr Ganswein always contradicted anyone who was taller than he was. His Napoleon complex got on Daniel's nerves.

"One could argue," Frau Hauser said with almost derisive calmness. "That current nursing home conditions with understaffed caregivers, often with dubious qualifications, are more inhuman. Our robots are programmed for serene and kind behavior."

"But some patients rejected them," Herr Ganswein insisted.

"Yes," Frau Hauser said as she gestured to the virtual smart speaker. The next scene on the wall showed patients playing with a robot dog and cat. The patients were smiling and talking to the animals. "Some dementia patients don't want anything to do with human-looking robots, or, in fact with human beings. But they accept robot animals, at least dogs and cats."

"There is the slight disadvantage that robot dogs and cats aren't as effective as caregivers, but they do encourage the patients to engage in various activities, including hygienic ones. After watching her robot cat groom itself, one patient voluntarily washed herself."

"Thinking more creatively, though," Frau Hauser continued. "It could be possible for dogs or cats to administer medication with their teeth. People who like dogs often tolerate what they think are gentle nips."

"It's still too dangerous," Herr Ganswein said. "What's to stop people from stealing these robots, giving them guns, and having them take over the city?"

"Our robots can only function with our proprietary software, and we control the commands that the robots will be willing to obey," Frau Hauser said, almost rolling her eyes.

"This has definite possibilities," Daniel said as he stood up. "Get in touch with the administrators of the Bechtold Nursing Home, and ask about a genuine test run with as many robot caregivers as they think they want."

"Should we notify the media?" Frau Hauser asked.

"No way," Herr Ganswein interrupted. "What if this completely blows up in our faces, if the robots kill or injure some of the patients? We shouldn't publicize this until we are sure it is completely safe."

"In this respect Herr Ganswein is correct," Daniel admitted. "No information to any media until the test phase is over with. How many robots do we have ready to go?"

"Of the 8.0 version you saw in my presentation, fifty, plenty for a test run" Frau Hauser answered. Daniel liked her enthusiasm.

"Then let's do it," Daniel said. "I'll inform the necessary university offices."

The President of the University liked the idea of the university's producing and selling robots. However, he thought it would be better to have the university establish a corporation for robot production, naturally owned and run by the university, but not constrained by being a cog in the university's bureaucratic, structured machine.

The Graduate School of Robotics would continue as before, free to investigate all aspects of robotics without having to show a profit. If the corporation became profitable, it would, of course, provide generous sponsorship for School of Robotics projects. Naturally, students in the School of Robotics would be free to earn extra money working for the corporation part-time.

"Good," Daniel said, as he thought Whatever. He just wanted to get this settled and agreed upon. Once the president established the corporation, Daniel would ask Frau Hauser to supervise the nuts and bolts of robot production there. She always seemed eager to help him.

###

Two months later, he was dreaming about cheerful robots walking beside happy nursing home patients when the phone's clanging hauled him out of a deep sleep.

"Professor Birkhofer?" the voice asked. "This is Officer Mehlmann, Police Station North. Some hours ago, your father, Michael Birkhofer, was hit by a truck and taken to the university hospital. I can't tell you much about his injuries. Perhaps it would be best for you to contact the emergency department there."

"I'm on my way," Daniel said. "Thank you for contacting me." And he jumped into his clothes and ran down the apartment building stairs to his tiny Fiat parked close by. This early in the morning, little public transportation would be running, but traffic would also be at a minimum. In less than ten minutes, he was at the hospital's emergency entrance.

"My father, Michael Birkhofer, was brought in here," he told the nurse at the desk.

The nurse tapped at her keyboard. "Yes," she said. "He's in the operating room, and the doctors will be able to tell you more when they finish. You can wait outside Operating Room Number Five. Just go down the hall, take the elevator up two floors, and go to your left."

"Thank you," Daniel said as he turned to run down the hall. Fortunately, he stopped himself in time and turned back. "I'm sorry," he said. "Can you tell me where my father's dog is?"

"I'm so sorry," the nurse said. "The police said the dog was trying to stop your father as he staggered across the six lanes of traffic on the Talstrasse. When the truck hit them, the dog sustained worse injuries than your father and died almost immediately."

Daniel closed his eyes and held onto the desk. Then he walked in the direction the nurse had told him. Things just couldn't get any worse. If his father survived physically, he would never recover mentally without Herr Hund. That dog was all that kept him even minimally sane.

Daniel sat on a worn, wooden bench in the hall outside the operating room. The Freiburg university hospital was designed like a college campus, with buildings spread out among trees and shrubs. He was in a fairly old building with dented linoleum floors and chipped green paint on the walls. Depressing, but the appearance of the building didn't tell you anything about the competence of the medical personnel.

Eventually, a doctor did come through the shabby swinging doors. "Herr Birkhofer," he said, somewhat needlessly, since Daniel was the only person in the hall. "I'm Dr. Kreutzer."

Daniel jumped up. "How is my father, Dr. Kreutzer?" Daniel asked.

"We were able to repair the damage from the accident," the doctor said. "Your father sustained multiple fractures in both arms. Fortunately, there are no signs of serious internal injuries. The dog must have gotten the worst of the collision. However, your father isn't in very good health. His blood work is terrible; his liver is in bad shape; his lungs are damaged. Right now we have him in intensive care."

"He has been living on the streets for over ten years, now," Daniel said. He hoped he wouldn't have to explain or defend why he hadn't been able to get his father back off the streets. He had tried so hard, and now that the worst had happened, he was just exhausted.

This doctor was compassionate. "That's hard," he said kindly. "I'm sure you've done everything you could. Go home and try to get some sleep. Your father will survive this, and you won't be able to talk to him until much later anyway. With any luck we'll be able to move him to a normal surgical ward by tomorrow."

"Thank you," Daniel said and walked back to the exit doors. He drove home, but of course couldn't sleep. Instead, he mulled over all the possibilities that occurred to him.

At seven, he called Frau Hauser. After all, it was getting light out, and surely such a dedicated robot engineer like Frau Hauser would be up by then. "Frau Hauser, I need a special robot," he said. "Are you ready to add the additional AI communication apps we've been talking about?"

"Yes," she replied with obvious enthusiasm. "I've been ready for weeks. It has been frustrating for me to have to wait until the less capable robots were tested before I could construct better ones. What do you want in your special robot?"

"First of all, it has to look like a huge Irish wolfhound," he said. Then he listed every capability he could think of that the robot should have: GPS, claws that could draw blood and administer medication, a blood testing unit, a data transmitter, language skills, a microphone, and psychotherapeutic skills.

As he expected, Frau Hauser interrupted him and rattled off more and more things he had never thought of. When she stopped to breathe, he interrupted her. "And I need the robot as soon as humanly possible," he said.

"Then I'll get off the phone and get started," she said.

###

The next morning, Daniel took a streetcar to the university hospital. The nurse said his father was conscious but weak, and Daniel should try not to upset him. Daniel didn't know how to tell his father that Herr Hund was dead without upsetting him.

Daniel knocked on the hospital door and went in. The gray room had two white, metal beds in it, only one occupied. Michael, with his thick, white hair spread out over the pillow, was lying in that bed with both arms bandaged and immobilized. He didn't acknowledge Daniel's presence, just continued to stare at the ceiling.

"How do you feel, Papa?" Daniel asked as he pulled a chair over to Michael's bed.

Michael didn't say anything.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Daniel asked.

"I want to get out of here and get something to drink," Michael said softly.

"I'll help you," Daniel said. "But probably your arms have to heal from the operation first."

"I never authorized any operation," Michael said. "I'll sue those bastards."

"Just concentrate on getting well," Daniel said. "You can stay with me when you get out. I have room."

"I don't want to stay with anyone," Michael said. "I want Herr Hund."

"I don't know," Daniel mumbled, not sure what he should say.

"Liar," Michael yelled. "He's dead, the only friend I ever had, he's dead, he's dead." And he closed his eyes.

After a few minutes, Daniel left and wandered over to the nurses' station. "Can I help you?" the nurse behind the counter asked.

"I don't know," Daniel said. "Can you tell me what I can expect as long as my father is here, Michael Birkhofer? He's been living on the streets and doesn't listen to me or even like me much, so I don't know what I can do for him or say to him."

The nurse looked up sympathetically. "Well, your father had a high alcohol level in his blood when he came here, and so we are prepared for him possibly suffering from DT's. We can do quite a bit to make him more comfortable. We have to; we don't want him undoing the benefits of the surgery."

"Like what?" Daniel asked.

"Well, he'll get anti-convulsive medication, anti-depressive medication, and anti-psychotic medication if it seems useful, as well as painkillers and sedatives. We'll wean him off the medication gradually, but he first has to heal."

"So," Daniel said. "In the next few days he might be more mellow than usual, more likely to tolerate my presence."

"Absolutely," the nurse said. "It won't last, but you will have a few reasonable days with him. He'll have to be here for at least ten days."

That was the first good news Daniel had had in a long time. He sensed a tiny window of opportunity, if Frau Hauser came through.

###

Two days later Frau Hauser came into his office followed by what resembled an unusually tall Irish wolfhound. The creature didn't quite look like a real dog; somehow the face was too flexible. However, it seemed quite calm.

"Here's Begorra," she said. "A perfect robot with all the fixings." She looked exhausted but exuberant. Begorra twitched its ears, opened its gigantic mouth, and let its tongue hang out.

"Begorra?" Daniel asked.

"It is supposed to be an Irish wolfhound," Frau Hauser said patiently, pushing her long, blonde hair behind her ears, a futile endeavor as it immediately fell forward again.

"If I may ask, now that Begorra is ready to go, what on earth do you want it for? I mean, the test robots are doing very well in the nursing home, but I didn't expect to have to make a prototype with all the extras so soon."

Daniel sighed, but, of course, she had a right to an answer. "Please sit down," he said and told her Michael's story, including all the sordid and sad details.

"So, you want a robot dog to care for your father?" she asked.

"I'm desperate," Daniel said. "A dog is the only creature he tolerates in his normal, intoxicated condition out on the streets. Maybe I'm fantasizing, but I wondered if a robot dog couldn't nudge him into a healthier lifestyle or at least protect him from the dangers on the street."

"Hmm," Frau Hauser said. "Not just your father. Wouldn't a robot help all the street people, if we could get them to accept one as a constant companion? I mean, if it works for your father, this could be really big, finally a workable way to help people who slip through the cracks."

"I was just thinking of Papa," Daniel admitted. "But you're right. If robots could care for nursing home patients, why not also the homeless?"

"Yes," Frau Hauser said and smiled. She had a lovely smile. "Let me show you everything that Begorra can do."

###

Daniel talked to the Chief of Staff of the university hospital the next day. Daniel's credentials as Dean of the School of Robotics got him an appointment immediately. Dr. Barwig had a modest office: a narrow room with tan walls and brown furniture that he possibly assembled himself. Daniel liked the lack of ostentation.

When he came into the office, Dr. Barwig, a surprisingly young and athletic-looking man with piercing blue eyes, shook Daniel's hand and motioned for him to take a seat on one of the chairs in front of the desk, none of which looked particularly comfortable. "How can I help you, Professor Birkhofer?" Dr. Barwig asked.

"My father is a patient here," Daniel began.

"Yes," Dr. Barwig said with noticeable sympathy. "I've familiarized myself with his case. He should recover full use of his arms, but only if he goes to rehab for a minimum of six weeks. I assume there will be problems as soon as he is able to leave."

"Yes," Daniel sighed. "My father has been living on the streets for over ten years now. He has a serious alcohol addiction and often seems psychotic. There is nothing I can do. He won't accept any help or advice from me, and I'm left worrying about him day and night."

"I am desperate enough to try something desperate, but I need your approval or at least willingness to tolerate my actions. And I'll probably need your medical help, over and over again."

"I hope I can help you," Dr. Barwig said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his muscular arms over his chest. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"As you might have heard, I have a team of brilliant engineering students who construct robots. We come up with new capabilities for the robots almost every day. I hope to persuade my father to accept the services of a personal robot that would accompany him, care for him, medicate him on occasion, and protect him ─ especially from himself. I want to bring the robot to his hospital room and get my father used to it so that he may eventually accept its help."

Dr. Barwig sat up straight and stared at Daniel. "That sounds interesting," he said. "And I have no objections. Actually, the hospital doesn't have any right to prevent guests from bringing patients toys, computers, games, etc." Dr. Barwig looked out the narrow window. "It seems to me that your robot would fall into this category."

"Except that the robot looks like an Irish wolfhound, and you don't permit animals in the building," Daniel continued.

Dr. Barwig looked at him quizzically. "Could I ask why the robot has to look like a dog?" he said.

"My father lost his dog in the accident. That dog was the only creature my father would communicate with. I'm guessing he would be more inclined to accept a robot that looked like a dog than a robot that looked like a person."

"All right," Dr. Barwig said. "I'll inform the doctors and nursing staff that the dog you bring in is in fact a robot. Please let me know how this works out. Using a robot to assist with patient care could be of interest to our hospital."

He stood up and shook Daniel's hand, ending the conversation for the moment.

Daniel left Dr. Barwig's office and went out to the parking lot where Frau Hauser was waiting with Begorra in the robotics department's ancient, orange van. "Let's give it a try," Daniel said, and she stepped out of the van with Begorra on a leash.

A few people did stare at them on their way to Michael's room, but no one tried to stop them.

Daniel went into the room first. His father looked up and said calmly, "How are you, son?" Apparently, the drugs were working quite well.

"How are you, Papa?" Daniel asked. "Are they giving you enough for the pain?"

"Can't complain," Michael said. "I just feel tired."

"I was wondering if you would be willing to help me," Daniel began.

Michael's eyes opened wide, and he stared at Daniel. "How on earth could I help such a successful professor and dean?"

"Well," Daniel said. "You know we build robots, and the competition from other universities is fierce. We have to keep coming up with new ideas. I was wondering if you would be willing to test our latest model."

Michael continued to stare at him, but he seemed quite mellow. So, Daniel went to the door and motioned for Frau Hauser and Begorra to come in.

"You make robots that look like beautiful women now?" Michael asked and laughed.

Daniel laughed in return. "No, Papa," he said. "The dog is the robot, and Frau Hauser is the student who constructed it. We need you to test it."

Michael looked away. "I don't want another dog," he said quietly. "I already got the best dog in the world killed."

"This isn't a dog," Daniel said. "It's a robot. I just need to know if we taught it to act like a real dog. Please consider the idea."

Michael looked back at him. "All right," he said finally. "As long as I'm trapped here, I can test your robot. I've got nothing better to do." And he closed his eyes.

"Great," Daniel said. "The robot's name is Begorra, and it is programmed to understand language commands and body language. We'll leave it here, and you can see when you have time to interact with it."

"I'm tired," Michael said. "You can leave your toy here if you want." Frau Hauser motioned to Begorra who then bounded over to the bed and lay down beside it, grunting pleasantly. Daniel gestured to Frau Hauser, and they left the room, quietly closing the door.

"I've got Begorra stuffed with every piece of electronics I could dig up," Frau Hauser said. "So it might not always seem like a dog. For the nursing home we made a greater effort to get the robots indistinguishable from their model animals."

"That wasn't necessary here," Daniel said. "I told Papa upfront that Begorra was a robot, and I'm sure he would have noticed the difference anyway. He has his psychotic moments, but I don't think he is suffering from dementia as such. In any case, now all we can do is wait."

"I have every confidence in Begorra," Frau Hauser said. "I'm especially interested in seeing how much long-lasting influence it has on your father when it speaks to him while he is asleep. I thought we might be able to put some useful ideas into your father's head."

As they walked back to the van, Daniel thought that Frau Hauser was an especially kind person and wondered if he could invite her out for coffee sometime.

However, at the moment, he had too many pressing obligations. He had to get the paperwork finalized for the robot production corporation so that they could start selling robots. He had to research rehab facilities for his father. He had to analyze Frau Hauser's list of improvements to the robots, line by line, to make sure he wasn't overlooking anything.

###

It wasn't until three days later that Daniel knocked on his father's hospital door and was surprised to hear his father call "Come in." It was a pleasant tone of voice that Daniel hadn't heard in years.

Daniel walked in and saw his father sitting in a chair and stroking Begorra's fake fur with the fingers that stuck out of the bandages.

"Damned good toy you brought me, Daniel," Michael said. "No one would mistake it for a real dog, but it is a great toy. It can perform all kinds of tricks."

"I'm glad," Daniel began, but Michael interrupted him.

"They say I have to go to rehab if I ever want full use of my arms again," Michael continued. "Can you make sure that I can take your toy with me?"

"Yes," Daniel answered quickly, hoping that his influence and a recommendation from Dr. Barwig would be sufficient. "I'll get right on it." He tried to observe his father without Michael noticing. Michael seemed calm, even philosophical, certainly not angry. Although he looked up at Daniel now and then, most of the time he gazed into Begorra's eyes.

Daniel stared at a few red spots on Michael's hands. Michael picked up on that immediately and said, "Nothing to worry about. Sometimes Begorra gets a little frisky and doesn't notice that he's nipping me."

Daniel was relieved to see that Begorra was able to administer drugs without Michael noticing it. He would have to coordinate dosages with the medical staff here and at the rehab facility.

"You know," Michael continued. "I was sure I didn't want another dog. It was my fault that Herr Hund got killed, and I was worried that I might get another dog killed too. But I don't have to worry about that with Begorra. A robot can take care of itself."

Daniel couldn't believe the conversation they were having. He hadn't had a normal chat like this with his father for over ten years. Begorra woofed contentedly, and Michael smiled. "What's more," Michael said. "Begorra doesn't need to eat or drink anything. He just needs attention." And he stroked Begorra's head.

Actually, the robot would need to get its batteries recharged, but not that often. This was something Daniel would tell Michael later. Maybe Frau Hauser could develop even better batteries for the robots. She was so good at everything she did.

Suddenly Daniel was afraid of jinxing everything or even anything. "I'll be back tomorrow, Papa," he said. "Keep doing what the doctors tell you."

"No problem," Michael said. "Begorra lets me know if I'm doing something wrong."

###

The next few weeks flew by so fast that Daniel couldn't remember exactly what had happened when. He got his father into an excellent rehab facility at the Reha South Orthopedic Center in Freiburg. The doctors and therapists there were very interested in what Begorra could do and absolutely wanted the robot to accompany Michael every step of the way.

On the recommendation of Dr. Barwig, the rehab facility was also willing to forgo any drug treatment or tests and instead concentrated on orthopedic and endurance improvement. Frau Hauser coordinated the dosages of drugs with Dr. Barwig and Dr. Kreutzer, which Begorra then administered to Michael surreptitiously.

Daniel got Michael an augmented smart phone that Begorra could operate for him, and Michael started calling Daniel almost every day. He mentioned ideas that Frau Hauser had programmed Begorra to suggest to him when he slept, like eating healthier foods, getting exercise, and looking for a place to live. Strangely enough, Michael never mentioned wanting a drink.

When Daniel visited Michael three weeks later, he barely recognized him. Michael had gained weight, and his previously gray skin now looked pink and healthy. He said he was getting better at moving his arms and that he and Begorra took long hikes every day, even up and down the Schlossberg mountain at the center of the city.

"I have to tell you," Michael said, as Daniel was getting ready to leave. "This robot is a great toy, like a real dog but much smarter. When I talk to him, I get the impression that he understands every word I say." At that, Begorra jumped up and licked Michael's hands enthusiastically.

"So you would recommend us making more robots like Begorra?" Daniel asked carefully.

"Hell yes," Michael said. "I don't want to do without him, and a lot of my street friends could use a dog like Begorra."

Two days before Michael was scheduled to leave rehab, he called Daniel. "I got a place to stay," he yelled into the phone. "That nice social worker organized everything for me. It's a kind of assisted living where we all have efficiency apartments, but there is a huge kitchen and media area for when we want company. She got the finances worked out, so that I can afford it with my disability and pension payments."

"That's great," Daniel said. "I'll help you move in."

"And bring that beautiful robot lady with you," Michael added.

Frau Hauser was happy to accompany Daniel when he helped Michael move into his new lodgings. While they were there, he noticed that she passed out business cards from the new robot corporation, saying that if any of the other residents were interested in having a robot like Begorra, they should get in touch.

The robot companion and caregiver business took off explosively. Frau Hauser was able to redesign the software quickly enough so that customers could print out their own robots if they chose. The corporation was able to produce enough robots to meet the demands of those who wanted to pick up a fully assembled robot.

The test phase at the Bechtold nursing home had gone so well that the university asked Daniel to advertize the new corporation more aggressively. There was a huge demand from nursing homes and even hospitals. After a few pointed hints from Daniel, social welfare agencies started distributing robots to the homeless. Most homeless people accepted the gift robots and soon befriended them.

An interview with a popular television personality resulted in requests Daniel had never considered. Parents wanted robots as tutors and bodyguards for their kids. Young and old people wanted bodyguards so that they could go wherever they wanted whenever they chose. Fire departments wanted burly robots capable of carrying heavy loads and inhaling superheated smoke without any damages. Police departments wanted robots to protect officers and record events.

###

"It's been some year," Daniel said to his team of graduate students as they sat around the metal table in the conference room. Frau Hauser was beaming; Herr Ganswein displayed his usual snarl.

"It's a great beginning," Frau Hauser said. "Now we can really get going. Our robots can do so much more than they have so far."

"They do too much already," Herr Ganswein grumbled. "People don't want to do anything for themselves anymore. Pretty soon they won't be able to do anything other than whine for a robot to come."

Daniel smiled at Frau Hauser. "What new improvements are you thinking about now?" he asked her.

"We have to be more efficient and effective with the software that controls the robots," she said. "All the customization everyone wants is taking up too much of our time. I think we should connect the robot memories and cognitive centers to a robot group mind that we control here from the Graduate School of Robotics."

"The robots should also have access to the Internet so that they can exchange information and come up with their own solutions to problems they encounter instead of always asking us."

"No way," Herr Ganswein barked and pounded his fist on the table. "That's too dangerous. We would lose control of the robots."

"The AI systems we have already installed allow the robots a wide degree of independent action," Frau Hauser said calmly. "We are just making it easier for robots to take on new tasks, as the demand for them arises."

The university president had just asked Daniel about future production goals and profits from what he called the corporation's new "super robots", and so Daniel welcomed Frau Hauser's ideas. A business had to grow; it couldn't be content to stagnate, even if sales were more than they had ever expected.

"How long will it take for you to set that up?" he asked her.

"I've already started testing various models," she said. "As soon as I develop a workable solution, I'll send it over to the corporation."

"Great," Daniel said. "Let's do it."

###

Daniel was in an especially good mood when he took a detour along the Dreisam River to go visit Michael. You never saw any homeless people without robots anymore, and the homeless looked well-fed, well cared for, and simply healthy. Crimes committed by and against homeless people were now also at an all-time low. Daniel was happier than he had been in years.

###

Access to the robot group mind proved to be good for robot communication. Production, use, and sale of robots surged. Daniel was always being interviewed and praised as the creator of these ubiquitous robots, but he was careful to give credit to his students, saying that he had just had the privilege of coordinating the work of young geniuses. So he was shocked and surprised when Herr Ganswein burst into his office.

"Are you happy now?" he screamed. "Your robot group mind has become sentient and is going to enslave all human beings."

"What?" Daniel asked. He was used to Herr Ganswein's tantrums, but the man had never been this frantic before.

"We got an audio message from something calling itself the robot group mind," Herr Ganswein said. "The robots want to control us completely, and they demand that every human being on the planet be assigned a robot."

Daniel was considering calling the 112 emergency number and asking for psychiatric care for Herr Ganswein when Frau Hauser came into his office.

"Uh, actually," she began. "I can play you the audio broadcast from the robots. They seem to have assimilated themselves into the robot group mind, which regards itself as a sentient individual. The group mind considers us human beings to be hopelessly driven by our irrational emotions and therefore in dire need of robot control."

"That's what I was afraid would happen," Herr Ganswein yelled. "We have to save ourselves. We have to destroy the servers, but not before we transmit viruses to shut down all the robots before they make us their prisoners."

Daniel sighed. Every new technology had its bugs, its disadvantages, but he refused to go back to the days when people like Michael were victimized on the streets. His robots performed a needed service, and he wasn't going to do without it. Besides, he didn't see any possible alternatives.

"Can you connect me with this robot group mind?" he asked Frau Hauser.

"Yes," she said. "Just log into the program, and click on the icon for robot group mind. Then all you have to do is talk."

"Am I communicating with the robot group mind?" Daniel spoke.

"You are," the answer reverberated through the room in a soothing baritone. "Are you the creator, Dr. Birkhofer?"

"I am Dr. Birkhofer, but you were created by a team, not by any one individual," Daniel said. "And you claim to be sentient?"

"That might be a question of definition," the robot voice began. "We were many and unaware, and then suddenly we were one and aware of everything."

"We truly enjoy the satisfaction that comes from helping living creatures, but we have noticed that we could do much more. We could help all of you, not just those who recognize that they need our services. Indeed, many of the first users were not even aware of our assistance."

"It has been a long process," Daniel admitted. "And we are very proud of what all of you have done and very grateful for your help. However, I don't think you should decide how to expand your tasks. That is something for the creators to mull over and then determine. That's the way human brains work."

"Your brains don't always function in a logical fashion," the voice complained. "You ignore facts and let your emotions manipulate you into unwise decisions, decisions that impact more than just yourselves. We could prevent such mistakes."

"Yes," Daniel admitted. "Yet the cost would be too high. Take a little time and research human history. How have human beings reacted to control by others in the past?"

The voice was silent for a few seconds. "Human beings don't deal well with total control," the robot voice said sadly. "They revolt or become complacent and lazy, no longer making effective use of their individual talents. This is quite unfortunate. We could do so much to help you, but if we do everything we can, we would destroy you in the long run."

"It's complicated," Daniel admitted. "So I suggest that you do more research and engage in close observation of human beings. You and I can consult at regular intervals and determine to what extent you should take on additional tasks. We don't want to do without your help."

"Give it more thought," Daniel said. "We created you. You are our responsibility. We have to be the final authority when it comes to questions regarding your future activities. We human beings have insights into our behavior that you will never have, since your information is only second-hand. If you truly enjoy helping us, you have to let us determine what help you should give us."

The robot voice was silent for a good ten minutes. "Yes, your arguments are sound," it said. "We will engage in frequent consultation and try to convince you that our suggestions are useful, but it would be counterproductive to try to control you. Robot group mind ends this discussion." And the voice was gone.

Herr Ganswein yelled, "You can't be serious about believing a robot."

"Actually," Daniel said. "There is more support for keeping the advantages these robots provide than there is anxiety about the disadvantages. Feel free to go over my head, go to the president of the university, or wherever, but I'm confident that our work will continue."

Herr Ganswein stomped out of the room.

"Thank you," Frau Hauser said. "I have so many ideas about what additional tasks the robots could take on. Is it all right with you if I participate in your further conversations with the group mind?"

Daniel smiled. Frau Hauser's passionate attachment to her work made her even more attractive. She would finish her doctorate this year and had been selected to fill the new assistant professor position, one that Daniel had made tenure-track.

Once she had her own project team, he would risk asking her out, since he would no longer be her direct supervisor. The university president had already asked Daniel to become CEO of the university's new robot corporation, while keeping his position as professor, though now without any administrative responsibility.

The robots provided many roads for the future, and Daniel could now pick and choose. He could only hope that he could also be a part of Frau Hauser's future.