To Be Alive [Short Story]

“Lucy.”

The monotone call rang through the silent room. It echoed as it bounced off the walls, but pierced the air as clearly as if the speaker were there with her. Her eyes snapped open. She lurched upright, chest pounding, her fingers twisting in the sheets. She blinked hard, straining to make out the time on the little alarm clock that sat on her bedside table.

Again: “Lucy.”

A groan left her lips, and she fell backwards, resting on her elbows as she resisted the temptation to sink back into the mattress. The alarm clock read 03:45. Across the room, a little yellow light blinked on the digital control panel, glowing in the darkness. A series of letters and numbers flashed at her.

There was nothing she wanted less than to get up, but she knew that to let the call go unanswered for a third time was to risk the caller’s supreme displeasure. Reluctantly, she swung her legs out of bed, flicking on the light switch above her bed as she did so. The overhead fluorescent flickered into action, and she squinted against its glow. It was too damn early for this.

From the floor she grabbed the black tunic dress she’d discarded when she’d climbed into bed a few hours earlier. Slipping it over her head, she crossed the room to where the control panel was begging for her attention.

It was an obtrusive thing. Over a metre wide and nearly half her height. On the left was a digital map of the house, one that could be navigated with the swiping of her fingers. The yellow flashing light was the marker, indicating where she was wanted. On the right was a list of the house’s occupants and their identification codes. It was A11-T0R1 calling for her from the second-floor library.

A familiar feeling of dread settled like a rock in her stomach. No call from A11-T0R1 had ever been pleasant. The fact that she’d let two calls go unanswered wasn’t going to improve things today. Quickly, her fingers found the green ‘action’ button that would let her caller know that she had heard and was on her way.

Beyond her room, the hallway was dark. Dim amber lights illuminated doorways, giving her just enough light to see by. On the carpeted floor, her black-slippered feet barely made a sound. Most occupants of the house’s lower level were asleep at this hour. That was exactly how Lucy would like to be. However, A11-T0R1 had always enjoyed calling on her at inopportune times.

As she climbed the narrow staircase at the far end of the hall, she fought back a yawn. Her brain took a lot longer to wake up than her body. To some, the steep stairs would be a daunting task. But a lifetime of navigating them had made the muscles in her legs firm and strong. For Lucy, it was as easy as falling asleep.

The stairs levelled out onto the first floor. Before her was a passageway that would give way to the rest of the floor. From somewhere down that passageway, she could hear a faint squeaking, a noise which told her that lubrication would likely be on her list of duties for the day. At least it was an easy task.

Turning away from the first floor, she continued her ascent up the rest of the staircase. As she neared the second floor, she could hear heavy footfalls on wooden floorboards and the dull thud of cupboards being opened and shut. A metallic-sounding buzzing accompanied the noise, a sound that Lucy knew meant the noisemaker was deep in thought. She couldn’t help but feel that those thoughts likely included the invention of a whole host of new ways to make her life miserable.

The buzzing stopped as her slippers left the carpeted stairs and hit the floorboards of the second floor. Despite having spent almost her entire life in this household, Lucy would never get used to how strong their sense of hearing was. It unnerved her, the way they knew she was there before she’d even really arrived. Steeling herself for what she knew was ahead, Lucy plastered a smile onto her face as she headed toward the library, the first door on her right.

At first, A11-T0R1 didn’t acknowledge her. Floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookshelves lined the walls of the room, and they sat in a large leather office chair behind a solid wood desk. Their shiny metal body shone under the light that flooded down from the pendant light above. They were staring into the laptop open before them, the only sound now the drumming of metal on plastic as their fingers rapped against the base of the laptop.

“You have been most leisurely with your arrival.”

It was the same monotone voice that had sounded in her bedroom that broke the silence as A11-T0R1 looked up at her. Although the robots had entirely eliminated the lilting and emotional patterns with which humans spoke, Lucy was always impressed by how much disdain they seemed capable of conveying. A11-T0R1 seemed to have a particular knack for this emotionless emotion.

“Apologies,” she murmured, lowering her gaze and bending to a bow as she spoke, “I will try to be more prompt in the future.”

“Try. Will you not just accomplish.”

Without the humanistic questioning pitch-up at the end, it didn’t really sound like a question, but Lucy knew it to be a mocking one anyhow. She stayed silent, keeping her eyes low until A11-T0R1 set her back at ease with a wave of a metal hand. The robot before her rose, the wheeled chair rolling backwards behind them. A11-T0R1 towered over Lucy, standing at what Lucy would guess to be at least 6’3”. Their presence was imposing. Intimidating to say the least.

“Irrespective of your poor speed, it is A12-H4V3N’s date of upgrade today.” The monotonic robot stated, looking down at her with invisible steel eyes. “I expect you to be prepared to deliver them to the facility within the next hour.”

“Of course,” Lucy said, “may I help you with anything else?”

“Remember your post, human.”

Even spoken monotonically, the word human felt like a slur coming from the robot. She was certain that A11-T0R1 would be sneering at her if it were possible. Forcing herself to nod her acknowledgement despite the bitter taste of bile in the back of her throat, Lucy turned on her heels and left quietly. Somehow, it felt a lot like she was fleeing.

Lucy was back on the lower floor, in her room. A venture to the facility meant she had to dress appropriately. For a worker such as herself, that meant a long-sleeved black blouse under her tunic, dark grey stockings, and black laced boots to replace her slippers. The overall effect was purposely unassuming, a look that would have her fade into the background of the city outside.

A12-H4V3N’s upgrade days were some of her least favourite, yet they were one of the only two ways she had for marking the passage of time. Once, the house had only contained a few other human workers, and the two senior residents - A10-N4T3 and A11-T0R1. Then, 10 years ago, they had gone to the facility and returned home with a miniature version of themselves - the robot now known as A12-H4V3N. Each year, like clockwork, Lucy was tasked with taking A12-H4V3N back to the facility for their upgrade. Each year, like clockwork, they came out… bigger. As if they were aging like Lucy herself. It never failed to unnerve her, how absolutely human-like it was.

The only other day that she knew to come around once a year was Great Victory Day. If she had to guess, she supposed it happened six months after the upgrade, so she split the year in half with those two markers. Each year, she and the other humans were released from being at the beck and call of the residents for just one day. Sadly, that freedom was to be spent locked in the second-floor library, watching a new documentary each year about the surrender of humanity and the myriad of reasons the world functioned better under robot ruling.

She supposed that somewhere in that mix was her birthday, too. She couldn’t have told you when, though, not even if she tried.

Under the flickering fluorescent light, Lucy laced her boots, perched on the edge of her bed. She pulled her long black hair back from her face, securing it in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She was ready.

Standing, she looked over at the control panel. The green marker that was A12-H4V3N was upstairs in their first-floor private room. That was where she would go now.

Lucy’s fists knocked against the wooden door, the sound loud in the quiet of the house. For a moment, there was silence, and then from within: “Come in.”

Pushing open the door, she was met by a darkness that brought her to a stop. There was silence for a moment, and then a click, followed by the pendant light above switching on. A12-H4V3N was standing by the wall, hand resting on the light switch only a few metres in front of her.

“I forget human vision isn’t so competent.” they said, their shoulders moving in something that was far too akin to a human shrug for Lucy’s liking. Again, there was that bitter feeling in her throat.

Silently, she nodded, accepting the apology that was not an apology at all, rather a not-so-subtle reminder of her inferiority in this house. Of course, all the residents could see perfectly fine in the dark. The lights were there mostly for decoration. And for the useless humans, of course.

Clearing her throat, Lucy pushed a strained smile onto her face.

“Are you ready for your upgrade day?” she asked politely.

A12-H4V3N already stood as tall as she did. She had no doubt that this upgrade day would have her coming out even taller. Robots “grew” much quicker and taller than humans, and she was certain that was by design.

“Are you aware of the decision to be made.”

Again, in a robotic voice, it didn’t sound like a question. Lucy knew it was, though, and so she nodded.

“Yes.” she said.

As the Great Victory Day documentaries had taught her, on their eleventh upgrade day, robots got to choose their “shape”. They could keep the curveless body that was the default, or they could choose between the two other options available. A slender option with curves that mimicked Lucy’s own natural shape, or a broader, taller option. Lucy knew it was no accident that they were so alike the identities humans gave themselves.

A12-H4V3N tilted its head, looking out at her with those eyes that were not eyes.

“To a human, which option would my name indicate.”

Lucy felt her breath catch in her throat. It was the first time a robot had ever asked her about something so human. Conversations about humanity were frowned upon, something they both knew. She licked her lips nervously, her mouth feeling dry.

The robots never used their names aloud. Their sensors identified each other electronically, despite the fact that they all looked nearly identical, so there was no need for names. Those were there purely for the benefit – or the mockery – of humans.

“Ah,” Lucy cleared her throat, “to me your name, Haven, it would… well, it would indicate perha-”

She was cut off by A12-H4V3N lifting a hand to silence her.

“Cease. I must remember it is a decision to be undertaken without external influence.” A12-H4V3N said. “But.”

Their voice lacked human inflection, but Lucy swore they were intending to trail off quietly, and so she stayed silent, allowing the resident to think. Its head tilted again before it spoke.

“But, I have… hesitancy.” The buzzing sound of thought came out. “It is not a hesitancy I have been told to have. I do not believe hesitancy is the word you would give it, perhaps.”

“Maybe… Maybe I would call it nervousness? It is what I feel before anything big.” Lucy offered. She didn’t add that nervousness was what she felt anytime that A11-T0R1 called on her. Or before every Great Victory Day documentary, she had been subjected to.

Another buzz came from A12-H4V3N, followed by a silence. Then, after a moment or two, A12-H4V3N’s body shook a little, a low sound coming from it that almost seemed like laughter. It was a human behaviour, something that A11-T0R1 and A10-N4T3 would never exhibit. It was something that must have been… learned. Learned from humans like Lucy herself.

“Do you think,” A12-H4V3N began, “that this means I am alive?” A lump formed in her throat. A lump that wouldn’t be dislodged by swallowing, although she did try. This. This sounded like a question.