Automaton Nation

Dat's sensors nearly overheated, and his circuitry was on high alert. He stood among his coworkers, waiting for the Gala to begin. They stood by him in stoic deference. He fidgeted and sighed. Being a Sous Chef both excited and terrified him. But it was the young woman with the auburn hair and jade-green eyes in bright blue, seated at the head table that caught his attention. His acute vision zeroed in on her delicate features and slender figure. His right eye twitched with a signal to his brain waves. Who's that? Big eyes and long hair equals beauty, according to my highly developed sensations. Need to be near her to see for myself. The reflection from the chandeliers sparkled on the tables with plates of Mushroom Risotto with Truffles, Chinese Kung Pao grasshopper entree, and Rat Snake soup that Dat had prepared. His chest heaved with pride, and he wondered if the governor knew that these dishes were his specialties with the shortage of meat. Dat believed, after this night, that it would be announced that he had become the Chef for the Grand Old Capitol Hotel, the favored place for the governor and her high-level constituents. I must live up to Tony De LaFleur's name, my mentor. They tell me my talents come from him. The hotel's ballroom shimmered with vintage elegance and bustled with the sounds of excited guests. A robotic harpist and violinist played softly in the background. Five hundred people gathered today by invitation only, their names known in elite circles. Dat felt honored to be a part of this celebration, having just emerged from conception. His perfect French and upscale manners added to his pedigree. Dat smirked and realized he had nothing to worry about. A hush fell over the room as Governor Thompson stepped up to the podium, her blunt cut chestnut hair and stern gray eyes behind opaque glasses added to the severity of her stance. "Good evening. I'm Governor Andrea Thompson. I would like to take this opportunity to welcome our guests from all over the world to our beloved Capitol City, once called Sacramento, in California and its surrounding island communities. "Second, be aware that security is tight, and everyone's eye prints have been scanned before entering the building to protect you from rogue robots. Even though our curfew's intact, our intel has instructed us to be aware of increased tension due to our recent robot protests. As you know, an employee of Robot International was attacked last Monday evening at ten p.m. after leaving the building. It could be a coincidence, but don't be alarmed, your safety is our priority. "Everything tonight was prepared by our special team of Model 500 robots, created by the chief scientist, Dr. Rod Tate of Robot International. His Genealogy Project paved the way for these human-like androids to perform even greater tasks than previous models. I will let Dr. Tate explain this project." Dat shifted his eyes toward the table in the middle of the room, where the young woman clapped vigorously. She beamed as her father spoke in commanding tones. "Many celebrities, scientists, and leaders have supported this project by donating their actual brains at death. Yes, offered up for RI to infuse them into these robots to preserve their legacy and talents. That makes these Model 500s able to take on their donor's traits and idiosyncrasies. One even told me..." The words faded from his brain as he watched the young woman whispering to her mother and laughing at the joke. Then she turned toward him and smiled brightly. His power supply jolted, and his circuitry went a little haywire. Dat found it hard to contain himself. His legs felt like mush, and he needed to sit down. But he kept himself upright alongside his other coworkers who seemed unmoved by anything going on around them. Their stiff postures and expressionless faces unnerved him. Can't they see what I see? She's looking at me now. Dr. Tate continued and gazed upon the group with pride. "We have lined up each of these unique Model 500s to be inspected. You will see that they are the top of the line. More human than the Model 100 domestics and Model 300 technics with softer skin and emotional capabilities due to their sensitivity tracks. Each one is different and available for purchase. Their complete profiles and photos have been provided to you. Does anyone want to bid?" Their gazes turned toward him and his cohorts. Horrified, Dat looked at their longing stares. His knees weakened as many pointed at him. Can't move. Why are they staring? "Model 500s, please circle around the tables," said the Governor. She gestured for the robots to move forward and pressed a button on her com watch. Dat hesitated as the others marched past him. But a twitch in his brain activated his sensors, and he quickly followed the group. His legs propelled him around the room, and he heard the crowd's gasps and cries of surprise. His instincts told him to stop, make eye contact, and smile broadly. I'm not sure what's going on, but now I can check out the girl. A couple took his arm and asked him a question. Enough of this vegetarian stuff. Can you make Chateaubriand? It's a favorite of mine. It says you speak French. Can you speak a few words?, the man in a black tux and teal shirt asked. He blurted out the words, trying to impress the couple. "Bien sur, Monsieur. J'adore cuisiner Chateaubriand." "Honey, that sounded good, but what did he say?" said the man. "Babe, he said, Of course, sir. I love cooking Chateaubriand. And he's so adorable with his big brown eyes and politeness. And he has the sculpted hands of a chef," said the woman, in a matching teal gown, her numerous rings sparkling as she held up her bid sign.