Jericho: What the Trash Droid Saw, excerpt from Chapter 1
Lift Dumpster.
Empty Dumpster into HoverBin.
Return Dumpster to ground.
Locate next Dumpster.
Repeat.
A simple program. A simple program for an equally simple droid. YZ-6771 had toiled away this way for sixteen standard years. His owners, Industria Disposal Services, held a monopoly for all waste removal services on the planet Industria; from the food packing facilities at either pole to the solar power plants at the equator, if there was trash, it fell to IDS to remove and recycle or dispose. YZ-6771 was a light duty, general labor droid. He had originally been misassigned to sewage reclaimation in the northern regions, but after he had been nearly crushed twice, he was moved to one of the executive dormatory routes.
None of this mattered to him, he was just a simple droid with a simple program. He picked up the dumpsters, he emptied the dumpsters and he put the dumpster back. His programing did allow for some internal metrics, in order to increase efficiency. He was 13% faster than anyone else in his unit, he could lift 23% more and he replaced the dumpsters to within a centimeter of center 96% of the time. It wasn't pride, but it was within parameters that he himself had narrowed. He expected himself to perfom better than the rest of his unit.
YZ-6771 had followed this course for a decade and a half, 30 hours a day, ten days a week - there was no time off for droids. Every nineteen days, he cycled in for routine maintenance. The repair doids would replace anything that had become worn or broken. YZ-6771's model was standard in every way. The original manufacturer simply used off the shelf parts, added their brand, packaged and shipped this droid across the galaxy. The IDS repair droids simply threw away worn limbs instead of attempting to repair them. After market parts were inexpensive, repair was time consuming; it cost less for a new part and getting the droid back to work than to attempt even simple repairs. Worn parts were simply recycled for their components or for their constituent plastics and metals. With the exception of a few of his intelligence modules, YZ-6771 didn't have a part older than a few standard years. His expected service life approached infinity.
A simple droid with a simple program doing a simple job on a simple industrial planet in the middle of no where special. That is, until one Tuesday morning ...
YZ-6771 was standing on the running board of the HoverBin as its robotic brain piloted from one dormatory complex to the next. It was suddenly dark. YZ-6771 cast his optical receptor skywards, wondering if the weather control system was in need of maintenance. Not that weather bothered him, he didn't care if it rained, although lightning would shorten his service expectancy and void his warranty. Cold and snow required him to recharge more frequently, as he needed to warm his joints to keep them functional. But, the weather wasn't an issue, the sky was simply darkened by a few hundred gun ships and fighters surrounding an enormous pirate man-o-war.
Landers disgourged from the man-o-war and gunships straffed the ground. The HoverBin came to a halt. Most of the pavement in front of it was pot holed, it could not find a safe route to traverse. Since there were no obvious actions to this intelligent trash truck, it activated its "service required" beacon and shut down to conserve power. YZ-6771 stepped down off the running board and examined his situation. They were miles from the nearest maintenance facility, they were not due to report into the depot to empty the HoverBin for another three hours. He and all of his unit had automatically activated their "service required" beacons at the first sign of something out of the ordinary, but none of them had any kind of military training beyond that. Hundreds of pirates were now pouring out of the landers, beings of every sentient race, all in ragtag armor and carrying dissimilar weapons of every type. Their only commonality was a bright red band with a black skull, work on a limb or emblasoned on an article of clothing. All of the ships in the roiling sky displayed similar markings.
YZ-6771 was a simple droid with a simple program, but he knew when he was in trouble. This was one of those times.
(BTW, 1888 words last night. Slow start.)
Empty Dumpster into HoverBin.
Return Dumpster to ground.
Locate next Dumpster.
Repeat.
A simple program. A simple program for an equally simple droid. YZ-6771 had toiled away this way for sixteen standard years. His owners, Industria Disposal Services, held a monopoly for all waste removal services on the planet Industria; from the food packing facilities at either pole to the solar power plants at the equator, if there was trash, it fell to IDS to remove and recycle or dispose. YZ-6771 was a light duty, general labor droid. He had originally been misassigned to sewage reclaimation in the northern regions, but after he had been nearly crushed twice, he was moved to one of the executive dormatory routes.
None of this mattered to him, he was just a simple droid with a simple program. He picked up the dumpsters, he emptied the dumpsters and he put the dumpster back. His programing did allow for some internal metrics, in order to increase efficiency. He was 13% faster than anyone else in his unit, he could lift 23% more and he replaced the dumpsters to within a centimeter of center 96% of the time. It wasn't pride, but it was within parameters that he himself had narrowed. He expected himself to perfom better than the rest of his unit.
YZ-6771 had followed this course for a decade and a half, 30 hours a day, ten days a week - there was no time off for droids. Every nineteen days, he cycled in for routine maintenance. The repair doids would replace anything that had become worn or broken. YZ-6771's model was standard in every way. The original manufacturer simply used off the shelf parts, added their brand, packaged and shipped this droid across the galaxy. The IDS repair droids simply threw away worn limbs instead of attempting to repair them. After market parts were inexpensive, repair was time consuming; it cost less for a new part and getting the droid back to work than to attempt even simple repairs. Worn parts were simply recycled for their components or for their constituent plastics and metals. With the exception of a few of his intelligence modules, YZ-6771 didn't have a part older than a few standard years. His expected service life approached infinity.
A simple droid with a simple program doing a simple job on a simple industrial planet in the middle of no where special. That is, until one Tuesday morning ...
YZ-6771 was standing on the running board of the HoverBin as its robotic brain piloted from one dormatory complex to the next. It was suddenly dark. YZ-6771 cast his optical receptor skywards, wondering if the weather control system was in need of maintenance. Not that weather bothered him, he didn't care if it rained, although lightning would shorten his service expectancy and void his warranty. Cold and snow required him to recharge more frequently, as he needed to warm his joints to keep them functional. But, the weather wasn't an issue, the sky was simply darkened by a few hundred gun ships and fighters surrounding an enormous pirate man-o-war.
Landers disgourged from the man-o-war and gunships straffed the ground. The HoverBin came to a halt. Most of the pavement in front of it was pot holed, it could not find a safe route to traverse. Since there were no obvious actions to this intelligent trash truck, it activated its "service required" beacon and shut down to conserve power. YZ-6771 stepped down off the running board and examined his situation. They were miles from the nearest maintenance facility, they were not due to report into the depot to empty the HoverBin for another three hours. He and all of his unit had automatically activated their "service required" beacons at the first sign of something out of the ordinary, but none of them had any kind of military training beyond that. Hundreds of pirates were now pouring out of the landers, beings of every sentient race, all in ragtag armor and carrying dissimilar weapons of every type. Their only commonality was a bright red band with a black skull, work on a limb or emblasoned on an article of clothing. All of the ships in the roiling sky displayed similar markings.
YZ-6771 was a simple droid with a simple program, but he knew when he was in trouble. This was one of those times.
(BTW, 1888 words last night. Slow start.)
posted by Jericho Brown at 11/02/2006 10:39:00 AM
3 Comments:
Yes, I know, spelling and grammar. The bands are "worn" not "work", etc. Lots of badness.
The idea behind this exercize is to get 50k words down. Spelling, gammar and editing can come later. As Stephen King says "Thank God for the fifth draft."
It took forever to write my less than 2k words, like 2.5 hours. There were interuption, but mostly I had to activiely keep myself from editing. It may not always show out here, but I am a decent editor. I consistently reread and edit everything I write. It was tough to NOT do that.
My goal was to write 2k+ words a night, to give myself a cushion and maybe finish a little early. We're most likely moving this month, so finding time to finish this is going to be tough. 1888 words is a little disappointing.
So far I am interested in seeing where this goes.
Well, hey, that's a start! I hooked my first reader!
You were there for it, folks!
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