Graziano G. Ravizza Presents:

ROBOTOYS

From an idea by G. G. Ravizza & G. Pisaneschi

Texts by Graziano G. Ravizza

Illustrations by Roberto Ronchi

English translation by Alessandro Drenaggi & Laura Munari

Colouring by Pamela Brughera & Roberto Ronchi

Digital Character Development by Alessandro Amati

SoundTrack by Davide Gatti

Special Thanks to Paolo Borella, Julian Smart (Anthemion Software)

Copyright © 2011 by Graziano G. Ravizza

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced

in any form or by any means,

without permission in writing from the publisher.

Based on First ePub Edition v.0.3-04-AO-PDF, September 2010

Revised July 2011

ISBN: 978-88-6435-011-0 (full ebook)

Visit the RoboToys web sites:

www.robotoys.info

www.bosmi.com

www.zzblu.com

RoboToons Publishing - Varedo (MB) - www.robotoons.com

LEVEL 0x003 ZZBLU DOT COM

]:-| Even though it was very early in the morning, an executive meeting was being held at Zzblu dot com. On one side of the long mahogany table was Dr. Estraven, elegantly clothed in a black jacket designed by a famous Italian stylist. On his right were his two assistants, Delta and Epsilon, dressed in black also. Next to them, rather sleepy and busy stirring a spoon in his cup of coffee, was Mr. Ken Myers, the sales manager. In front of them was Mr. Mark, the marketing manager, flanked by his two assistants, Alpha and Beta, perfectly awake and efficient. Alpha and Beta looked a lot like Estraven’s two assistants: their hair was almost shaven off too and wore wireless earpieces in one ear. On their side was the production manager, Mr. Tess Calver, who was trying in vain to suppress a yawn. The ultra-flat monitor of the teleconference system was at the head of the table. The President’s voice was coming from there, but there was no image of a face. All you could see were some drawings made out of

lines and colours, which were moving in sync with his words. « Good morning, gentlemen. I summoned you here this early because I’m in urgent need of some data. I’m very happy to see you all, even at such an unusual hour. Let’s proceed to the routine checks, please. Mr. Calver, how’s the production going? » « Splendidly, Mr. President. Our automatic production lines are working practically 24/7, and produce very few rejects. Every day one-hundred thousand web-puppies and just as many web-bot spiders come out of our warehouses. As far as the other interactive toys that make up our production are concerned... » « That doesn’t concern us at the moment» the President cut him off. « Mr. Myers, what about the sales? » « They’re flourishing, Mr. President, flourishing! The test promotional sales have given outstanding results. We’re currently flooded with purchase orders coming from supermarkets and shops all over the world. The merit must also be acknowledged to my colleague, the marketing director » « Exactly, Mr. President » started Mark. « The ad campaign is plying kids all over the world and is

working superbly: every child in the world is now convinced that these new robotoys must be bought at all costs. If a kid cannot afford them, well, shame on him! » Alpha and Beta smiled to their boss. « Excellent, excellent » said the President through the ultra-flat monitor. « What about you, Dr. Estraven, have you carried out your task? » Delta and Epsilon turned pale. Estraven, on the other hand, answered calmly: « It’s half-done, Mr. President » « Hum... gentlemen, I’d like to carry out an inspection of the company, now! » « Only the automatic assembly systems and the autonomous accounting programmes are functioning at this hour, sir » said Tess Calver. « Other than a few technicians, our staff will turn up for work at eight, in a couple of hours » « Better yet, gentlemen, we’ll be able to examine things without being disturbed. Gentlemen, let’s go, please » The ultra-flat monitor from which the President’s voice was coming from moved towards the end of the table. His outer sides automatically clung to a thin

support structure. The entire structure then slid into a vertical position until it fit on a six-legged robotic locomotion base. The robotic legs instantly activated and the whole system, the loco-President, started walking towards the door of the conference room. It was made of metal, but was still rather silent. Mr. Calver opened the door and everybody filed behind him. The corridor was long and, every ten metres or so, you could see wide windows that looked onto some of the labs and offices. There weren’t many people around, it was still too early. Behind a window, you could see two doll heads connected to a computer through some coloured cables coming out of their necks. It seemed as though the two heads were chatting amongst themselves. Through another window you could see a pen inside which a few robot spiders were fighting. One of the bigger ones had bitten off another one’s leg. The next moment, a second robot spider jumped on the injured one and bit its main sensors off. The poor robot spider swayed on itself and was then quickly assaulted by all the other robospiders in the enclosure. Its little

remains were taken by a robotic arm and transferred into a garbage bin. In another room, you could see a set of robotic arms grabbing a few robomice and positioning them at the beginning of a maze. The robomice would then start speeding through it. The ones that completed the labyrinth were taken back; the others were caught, disassembled and recycled immediately. The men came to a closed door. Mr. Mark took a card out of his pocket, swiped it and the door opened. « Gentlemen, from here we enter the marketing room, where, 24/7, we monitor the TV stations that broadcast our ads. We obviously also keep an eye on all the newspapers, comics and especially kids’ magazines. Here we make sure all the advertising material is correctly broadcast or printed » Dozens of coloured monitors plastered the walls. The video technicians, aside from looking at the screens, had an earpiece in their right ear and a tubule up their nostrils to check the odorama broadcasts. No unpleasant smells that might distract prospective buyers were allowed during the ads. The text technicians were skimming through the digital copies of the newspapers where, in the comics

section, the Zzblu ads could often be found. They worked on big lit-up tables and were taking notes of the data on tiny wrist-PCs. A virtual globe was in the centre of the room and, on its surface, little red lights were frantically flashing, thus indicating that a Zzblu advertisement was being broadcast. « Excellent, Mr. Mark » said the six-legged loco-President, « I believe there might be a problem in that area, though » With a leg, the loco-President pointed at a rather large area on the virtual globe that no longer flashed red. Alpha moved towards the video technicians to ask for an explanation. Beta sat next to the chief text technician and began an animated discussion. « I’d like for you to stay here and see to this problem, now » the loco-President ordered Mark, who obeyed without uttering a word. «In the meantime, we’ll continue with our inspection » Apart from Mark and his assistants, they all left the room.

They walked through another corridor: on the other side of the windows, on the right, was the sales office. « Everybody’s still at home: the sales people start working at nine » « Of course, Mr. Myers, of course. However, you still haven’t submitted the sales statistics I asked you last week » « You’re right, sir. Unfortunately, since the sales are going so well, I haven’t had time. I’ll have them ready by this afternoon, sir. » « No, Mr. Myers. I want them e-mailed to me by noon » « But sir, there won’t be enough time... this morning I applied for a leave to go Christmas shopping with my wife » « You’re not paid to discuss my orders; execute! » The order, coming through a six-legged metal robot, sounded rather intimidating. Mr. Myers went into his office, switched on his computer and dispiritedly sat at his desk.

« I’d like to inspect the production chain, now! » « Please follow me, Mr. President » said Calver, typing a code on a keypad next to the wall. A big metal door opened. They went into a wide elevator that commenced its descent. Mr. Calver timidly asked: « Mr. President, if I may ask, where is the self-moving teleconference system that you’re using produced? I’ve never seen one like that » The metal legs stiffened up and the ultra-flat monitor glowed a blue colour. Estraven immediately cut into the conversation: « Experimental systems, we’re trying them out ourselves in the Research and Development department » « Of course, experimental systems... » confirmed the loco-President, from the ultra-flat monitor. The lift came to a halt two floors down, in the basement. The metallic, repetitive sounds could be heard getting louder and louder.

The assembly line was, to say the least, colossal. There were at least a hundred production lines one next to the other. Each line started out with a number of small trolleys, in which the robotoy pieces were. The first trolleys carried the components for the tiny paws. Two microscopic arms took these components and assembled them to obtain six metallic paws. The paws were then laid out on a trolley that took them to the next stage. There, a robotic arm took the tiny paws and, from a conveyor belt on its side, also the metal frame that supported the whole structure. The tiny paws were connected to the skeleton with automated screwdrivers. At this point, the partly-finished product was taken to the following stage, where the most important piece was attached: the head, with the electronic control circuits. This head was not produced internally, but was provided by another company. There were so many stages necessary to obtain the robotoy that it was hard to see the end of the assembly line.

« As you can see, Mr. President, everything is practically perfect here. The robotised assembly machines run at full speed with no need for human intervention, the automatic assembly systems are working practically non-stop. The products come out already packed with practically an absolute quality » In that very moment, however, the main lights went out and the emergency ones turned on. All the assembly robots, the robotised arms, the trolleys and the conveyor belts stopped, leaving the robotoy pieces dangling in mid-air. The rhythmic, metallic sound died away, leaving just an echo behind. « And practically what does this mean, Mr. Calver? » asked the President, irritated, whilst two of its locomotor robot legs clanged nervously together. « I don’t know, sir. It might be a failure in the main computer. Or maybe it’s just a voltage drop... » « Might and maybe to me are of even less importance than practically, Mr. Calver. Fix this problem, now! » « Yes, Mr. President! » Calver answered, and leapt to work immediately.

The loco-President left the production room and got back onto the lift with Estraven and his two trusted assistants, who were both smiling. « Dr. Estraven, I had assigned a task to you! » he thundered. « Of course, Mr. President... » « Which means I’m not happy with a 50% result; are we clear?! » Estraven’s two assistants stopped smiling at once. « Your task was to find the uploader and delete it, destroy it; and what have you done, instead? » said the President, who was getting angrier by the minute. « I’ve located its whereabouts » Estraven answered calmly « and, at this exact moment, it’s right here in Cyburg, at 64, Liddel St. It was purchased by Mrs. Theresa Bushnell for her son, Tiberius » Upon arriving at the ground floor, the men walked through a corridor and entered the R&D department: the one run by Dr. Estraven. A door closed behind them. « I’ll show you, Mr. President »

Estraven moved his hand over a sensor: instantly, a wall monitor showed the faces of two workers with their headsets on, surrounded by technical equipment that flashed brighter than the MegaMart Christmas tree. The two workers were inside a van parked in Liddel St., right in front of the Bushnell’s. « Mr. Epsilon-2 and Mr. Delta-2. Give us an update, please » « Good morning, Mr. President, good morning, Doctor. We’ve been keeping track of every movement in and out of the house, through sixteen BugCameras. The vector is still on the premises. No further suspicious movements have been detected » « Thank you, gentlemen. Please continue with your work » Estraven calmly looked at the monitor, which was kept in an upright position over the six legs by a thin beam. « Everything’s under control, as you can see: there’s no hurry, Mr. President » « But why don’t you just break into the house and take the uploader right now? There are only two kids and a cat in there, after all » « Sir, you cannot ask this of me: I’m not a petty thief, and I’m not used to stealing from children.

Everything’s under control. I only ask that you wait a couple more days » « All right. I don’t know how, but for some reason you always manage to convince me, Dr. Estraven. Anyway, if in a couple of days you have yet to retrieve it, we’ll do it my way. Remember that I absolutely don’t want that device underfoot, I mean, under my legs, during Christmas » Delta and Epsilon began chuckling, but Estraven gave them a withering look. « Mr. President, allow me to remind you that the uploader is a single, unique specimen, while at this stage we have produced millions of downloaders, such as web-puppies and web-bot spiders: every kid is going to have one this Christmas » « I am well aware of this, Dr. Estraven. But I still won’t feel safe until that single one is eliminated too» « It will be done before Christmas, sir » « That’s better, Doctor » the lines and colours on the monitor seemed to be smirking, satisfied. Then the loco-President asked: « And what about the vector? You still haven’t told me what kind of vector Dr. Sally utilised »

« The vector was a BoSMi robomouse, with 8 pills, two game souls and videotoy included. BoSMi, as you may remember, was our first successful robot videogame: we’re now selling the last items, and then the production will be terminated. Dr. Sally built the uploader so that it could be installed in an available slot in the brain. However, I don’t believe that the uploader will cause any problems inside that vector: BoSMi is a traditional robotoy, with a simulated thought routine; it cannot elaborate thoughts, it just pretends to » « Of course, Estraven, you’re always so sure about your analysis. But you shouldn’t underestimate Dr. Sally’s abilities. She might have found a way to make the uploader work inside that hardware, and that worries me. I’ll give you two days, no more. Should you fail, I’ll ask the external intervention team to intervene » « You mean, Lieutenant Goxfy’s team? » « By all means. And I reckon they won’t be gentle » « Please allow me to point out that the use of such reckless violence against some children would not be appropriate. Nonetheless, whatever you decide will be done »

« Your loyalty pleases me, Dr. Estraven » The loco-President moved towards the entrance door but then he paused and, turning the monitor towards the men, said: « Doctor, please bear in mind that all of this must be kept secret. Tess Calver, Ken Myers and all of the other biologicals working here, aside from you, dear Dr. Estraven, don’t suspect a thing. They believe they are producing common robotoys, but they have no idea as to what is really inside their mechanic heads. Not one word should come out of you or your assistants! » The door opened and the six-legged robot scurried out. Estraven let himself collapse behind his desk: facing the President of Zzblu dot com wasn’t easy. Epsilon tapped on Delta’s shoulder and whispered to him: « What’s the difference between an uploader and a downloader? » « You should know these things by now » answered Delta. «Still, the downloaders transfer the information to the Web. The uploader does the opposite thing, that is, it takes the information from the Web back to where it was before. We’re obviously talking about the World Wide Web, the Internet.

During Christmas, there will be millions of downloaders distributed to children’s houses. What we should try to snatch from those kids is the only uploader left. It had been built for debugging operations, and it was supposed to be destroyed as soon as the work was done. But then Dr. Sally made it hers and inserted it in the vector, that is, in the robomouse that we still haven’t caught » « What are you two whispering about? » said Estraven, rubbing his eyes. « Nothing, Doctor, nothing: we were just exchanging opinions. Hey! Are you listening to me or what? » Epsilon appeared to be stunned, but after a second he came to: « Yes, sorry... my communicator lost reception for a moment. But, who was this Dr. Sally? » « You’ve never heard of her? Are you serious? » sighed Delta, shaking his head. « Dr. Sally Calvin was the world’s leading expert on emotional programming, and she was a human working here in the R&D Department. She died under unclear circumstances ». Then he added loudly: « Doctor, do you remember Dr. Sally? »

« What a stupid question, Delta. Of course I remember her » Estraven answered, still exhausted and slumped over his desk. « I remember once when she... » « But why have you outsourced the design and assembly of the robotoys’ heads?» Dr. Sally was screaming to Estraven: « when they get here they can’t be opened nor inspected » « Please, calm down, Doctor. I’ve tried to keep the head design within our department, but you have to agree that your research has not given the expected outcomes. The management has punished us because we’ve lost time » Sally ran her fingers through her too-thick hair and shook her head. A young woman like her could not grasp corporate logic. Then, she adjusted her spectacles and looked Estraven right in the eye: « Emotions and thoughts cannot be separated: the heart design cannot be separated from the mind design which is inside the head. If we separate the emotions from the thoughts we’ll never be able to build truly intelligent computers »

« Sally, my dear, I agree with you: the ability to think is a side effect of emotions » Estraven took a chair and sat in front of Sally. His tone was more confidential now: « I’ve always valued your work on the theories of synthetic emotions, but this is a robotoy factory. The management has most likely decided that simulated emotions would suffice to make the dolls say “I love you mum” and just a pinch of fake artificial intelligence to make the videogames. The heads we outsource do this perfectly and they’re also cheaper than the ones we used to produce ourselves » « This is absurd » Sally’s big blue eyes pierced Estraven. She then grabbed a few cookies from her drawer and handed them to him: « You want some? And while we’re at it, why don’t we have coffee? » « I’ll get it for you, you stay put » Estraven stood up, headed towards the robotised vending machine and typed the drink codes on the keypad. After a few seconds, he took two cups of steaming-hot coffee and sat in front of Dr. Sally again. « Wait for the chromo-thermometer to turn blue before you drink it, or you’ll burn your lips. As I was trying to tell you before, the management has decided to block all research activities concerning emotional programming. The company has decided it is no longer necessary »

« Which means I am no longer necessary either! » Sally replied, irritated. « We don’t design the robotoys’ heads anymore and I can’t continue my research on machine emotions. Am I being fired? » « Heavens, no, my dear Sally » said Estraven, biting on a cookie. « Let’s wait for this stage to come to a pass, and then I’ll try to support your ideas with the management... as for today, you’re irreplaceable, because you are the only one who knows the debug uploader down to its smallest detail. No-one would ever consider firing you » Estraven’s calmness was contagious. Sally relaxed too and, when she had drunk up her coffee, returned to her mouse and keypad. Dr. Sally was told that downloaders were only needed to allow children to play online. A kid from one city could play with others from different cities. You could put together hundreds of web-bot spiders and simulate a virtual battle where every robotoy played its individual role: there would be the soldier, the messenger, the lieutenant general. The system was so complex that it required the development of a specific programme to test and check it: such a software was the famous uploader.

However, Dr. Sally was smart and had started to become suspicious: it was too much technology even for such a sophisticated multiplayer robot videogame. Furthermore, there was something odd about those outsourced robotoy heads. Sally suspected she wasn’t being told everything. And Sally started nursing doubts on a few colleagues of hers too... « Can I buy you a coffee, Delta? » « No, thanks Doctor, I don’t drink coffee » « It looks to me like you don’t drink anything at all» « It’s a diet, Doctor: no liquids » « Please forgive my curiosity but, aside from liquids, I’ve never seen you at the bar on the other side of the street eating a sandwich or whatever else » « I only eat at home, Dr. Sally. I don’t trust eating out »

Sadly, Sally’s life was far too short. The only thing she left behind was her will in an encrypted e-mail that no-one was ever able to read:

Body, Soul (and brain)

In the Mind its burden you can find.

You’ll have to use it

to reinstall in the owner his mind.

But it’s alone, it doesn’t know its story,

No recollection of his memory,

It’s got a purpose in the game,

But time it’s the one to blame.

To the Web it has to race,

And its dangers it’ll face,

But there’s an even bigger threat

Yet to be found: over there, on the other side.

For my son, that’s my only hope

That with its destiny it’ll cope.

I hope it will succeed,

For the kids and the human breed! Dr. Sally Calvin’s last e-mail also contained an attachment, that is, a software which was not included in the text. The attached software, that is, the uploader the Zzblu people were looking for, had been automatically transferred inside a specific robotoy in one of the many production lines. This robotoy was boxed, packed and sent to a big warehouse: this robotoy was obviously our BoSMi!

... What end would made the unfortunate Dr. Sally? It will be dead for real? And all these strange

downloader into the homes of children, will have some bad intentions?

Read the continuation of the story on Chapter 4 (Avalible for FREE on the web soon!!!)

RoboToys (c) 2011 Graziano.G. Ravizza