By Lindsi McIntyre
Circuits humming, Jepedo calmly plotted his next move. There. He leaned across the table, arms too short to reach while seated, and set his bishop down in front of his opponent’s king. “Checkmate.”
Father studied the board. Running a hand over his thinning hairline, he sighed. “You win again, my boy.” He smiled at Jepedo. “But at least I managed to stay in the game a little longer this time, eh?”
Jepedo stretched his face, copying the expression. Truthfully, he could have ended the game sooner, but Father had to leave after it was done. So he’d pretended not to see the openings that would’ve won the game.
The door to the observation room opened, admitting Cindy, Jepedo’s favorite caretaker. “Sir. The admiral is on his way.”
Father’s smile crumpled in a way it never had before. Jepedo mimicked that expression too, trying to understand it. Father breathed deeply. “Thank you, Cindy. Please, give us a moment.”
Cindy nodded, looking at Jepedo as she walked out. That look he understood. She had a secret.
Father breathed deeply again. “We have to talk about something important, Jepedo.”
Jepedo straightened on his booster seat. He loved these talks with Father. There was always so much to learn. He copied Father’s breath, wanting to show he was ready to engage fully in whatever topic they discussed.
Father’s eyes glinted under the observation room’s pale yellow lights. “Jepedo. Do you remember what I told you about the day you were created?”
Jepedo’s long-term memory drives kicked in with a whir. “Six years ago, the United States government authorized the creation of an artificial life form, hiring a team led by Dr. Adams to perform the experiment.”
Father smiled, this one tinged with pride. “Yes. And by all accounts, you are a huge success.” His expression shifted. Anger. “But, from the very beginning, there were people who wanted to shut us down.”
Jepedo did not like that crumpled look on Father’s face. Not at all.
“Last week, those people finally managed to get the all-clear to cancel our experiment.”
“Why?” Jepedo asked.
“They claim the experiment is a failure since the original purpose of your creation was to learn if emotions could be artificially created. Specifically, they wanted to see if love could be duplicated.”
“What is love, Father?”
Father looked like he might cry. “Love is a special feeling, Jepedo. Love is when a mother protects her child. It’s when a father works hard to keep his family fed. Or when an officer gives his life to serve his community. That’s love. Do you understand?”
“I understand.” But even as he said it, Jepedo knew it wasn’t quite true. He understood the words, but he’d never experienced love. Father, all humans, felt things. Feelings weren’t thoughts. Or instincts. Or even constant from person to person. They were irrational and undefinable. But what Father had just described weren’t feelings. They were actions. “I can do that. I can protect and work and serve, Father.”
Father’s smile was sad.
The door opened again. “Sir. The admiral’s here.”
Two men, one with stars on his uniform, stormed into the office on the other side of the observation room’s window, their faces masks of stone. Father stood, patted Jepedo’s head, then walked out the open door.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?” Father asked.
“Don’t play dumb,” the admiral replied. “You know why we’re here. That thing is an abomination.”
Jepedo knew that word. And he did not like being called it.
“You never should have gotten the green light for this experiment. Our orders are to terminate the subject.”
“You can’t just kill him!”
“It isn’t alive, Adams! It’s a thing. A tool.” The admiral glared through the window at Jepedo. “And a broken tool at that.”
“It’s only been six years. He needs more time.”
“It’s already been decided.” The admiral shoved Father. “Move aside.”
Father shoved back, grabbing the man’s gun as the officer stumbled. “Stay away.”
That was bad. Very bad. Father was committing a crime. Jepedo jumped down from his chair.
“What are you doing, Adams?”
“I can’t let you do this.” Father backed toward the door. “Jepedo. Come here.”
Jepedo inched into the room. Father took his hand, pulling him to the door.
“You won’t get far, Adams,” the admiral said.
“We’ll see,” Father replied.
The two walked out of the observation hall into the main laboratory. The living quarters were to the right, the only world Jepedo had ever known. Father pulled him into the elevators on the left. The ones that led outside.
The elevator slid silently to a stop at the top, and the doors opened. Then, Jepedo stepped into the sun’s warm, gentle rays for the first time. A beautiful sound reached his ears. He’d heard birdsong before, but only ever on recordings. Their melody turned in his chest with a soft hum.
“We’re going to see everything I promised, Jepedo.” Father smiled. “Just you and me.”
Jepedo smiled back, this time automatically, as if it he couldn’t hold it in. Mountains. Rivers. Parks. He would finally get to see it all.
They were halfway to the street when Jepedo’s ears, far more sensitive than Father’s, heard a gun’s hammer clicking. His processors ran through scenarios, searching for the most likely one. He could easily dodge a bullet, but a human couldn’t. One possibility rose above the others. Someone was aiming a weapon at Father.
Jepedo’s processors played out the scene. The bullet would soar through the air. Strike Father. Pierce his heart. Acute blood loss would quickly follow. Jepedo froze. Father would die. I can’t let him die!
Something dormant inside Jepedo sprung to life. Without processing the outcome, he jumped between Father and his attacker. The bullet struck, knocking him back into Father’s arms. They both fell to the ground. Father’s tears pooled on Jepedo’s face.
“I’m sorry, Father.” Jepedo could feel his systems shut down. “I won’t be able to go with you, after all.”
Can you guess which song inspired this story? (This month it could be any time period, any genre.) Share in the comments!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I like the view of love being action more than emotion.
Thanks for taking the time to read my story, Alex!
Interesting play on names, with Jepedo the created versus Gepetto the creator.
Was it a robotic law to prevent harm to a human, or something else that Jepedo’s AI learned? Good story.
Thanks! It seemed like the only natural choice for his name. :D
Loved this story, Lindsi! Like was stated in an earlier comment, I love your conclusion that love is shown through action. A powerful theme and a wonderful story! Proud of you!
Aw, I’m so glad. Thanks for reading!
So good! Excellent story, especially your choice to make the AI the main character. Well done!
Thank you!!
What a story!
I believe I’ve found it! A story for the September 2023 Reader’s Contest. This one appears to be based on the Disney film, Pinocchio. The song, “Wish Upon a Star.”