Chapter 1 - Dismantling: Three Days BeforeThis morning is different from the others.
Today dawned with a gloomy, discontinuous rain. It is as if the sky is crying because it is going to part with the sun; the lonely rain makes people depressed as well.
I awaken Professor and prepare her breakfast after that. But today, for some reason, I accidentally charred part of the egg, I wonder why.
On this unusual morning, Professor said some unusual things as well.
âIris, ermâ¦â¦â
While walking out of the arc entrance, Professor looks back at me from the place where the courtyard connects to the streets outside.
âWhat is it, Professor?â
âAfter I come home today, I have something important to tell you.â
âSomethingâ¦â¦ important?â
Professor nods while holding her umbrella.
Her expression looks very calm, but also lonely at the same time.
I ask âWhat is the matter?â and raise the umbrella slightly higher, looking at Professorâs face.
âIâll tell you after I come home. Yeah, after dinner.â
âI really don't like it when you act mysterious like this!â
âHeh heh heh. Mnn, it isnât anything bad. How should I put itâ¦â¦ Ah, you could say that itâs a present?â
I cry out loud âThatâs great!â and raise the umbrella even higher.
âWha- what are you giving me!? I want a marriage application with Professor!â
âDonât talk nonsense. Ah, but, marriage application huhâ¦â¦ It does have the meaning of âeternal happinessâ.â
âHuh? Eternal!? Wha- what is with this!?â
âIâll tell you when I get back. Be a good girl 'til thenâ
âUnderstood! Professorâs Iris will be a very very good girl today too!â
âThen I'm off.â
Professor starts to walk.
âTake care on the road! Come home earlier!â
Without turning her head back, Professor waves her right hand lightly.
The blue umbrella is just like a lightly painted water color drawing, losing its focus in the raindrops and becoming foggy. Professor vanishes just like that after going around the corner.
The rain starts to get heavier. I run back to the doorstep. For some reason, I suddenly have a feeling of someone pulling my hair, so I turn around to have a look before entering the house.
There isnât anyone at the arc door.
This afternoon, I complete the housework and my task of recharging myself. After that, I start to study hard on the sofa.
This book is called âNew: Basic Theory of Robot Engineeringâ, and I borrowed this from Professorâs collection of books. Professor is a young beauty with an exceptional figure, but her bookshelves are full of academic books, without even a trace of books related to fashion.
By the way, Iâm reading the chapter âEmotions and Expression of Robotsâ in the book.
The theme of the chapter tells of how the âemotionsâ borne from the mental circuit of a robot would affect the âexpressionâ that is expressed by the artificial skin on their faces.
Humans usually laugh when theyâre happy and cry when theyâre sad.
However, it is different with robots. If a special mental circuit is not built in, robots would not have âemotions;â if their artificial skins and muscles are not modified by a technician with considerable skill, the robots would not be able to convey their âexpressionsâ either.
In addition, human expressions are very complicated. Just the action of âlaughing,â thereâs the heh heh laugh, the ho ho laugh, a gentle smile, a sweet smile, a silly laugh and so on, and there are a lot of differences between the expressions. Human expressions can be categorized into about a few hundred; only by making subtle changes to the mental circuit, robots can convey expressions that are lifelike. Hence, the facial expression and language recognition software are the best and the most expensive ones in the robot market. The price of expression software would sometimes be even higher than the price of the robot itself.
I have the latest version of the expression software installed on me. I am thankful to Professor for letting me laugh and cry, fly into a temper, throw a tantrum and so on.
I close the book that I was reading. It is now five forty five in the evening.
Professor will be back soon. I should prepare dinner now.
However.
Over an hour passed, and it is now seven thirteen at night.
â Professor is so slowâ¦â¦
Professor isnât back yet. Sheâs late for about one hour, thirteen minutes and twenty one seconds. The pot in the kitchen is filled with todayâs dinnerâ Laulyl styled butter stew, and itâll just need a slight heating up.
â itâs so strange.
Professor would contact me every time she comes home. Even so, I havenât received any messages from her today.
I feel like calling Professorâs phone, but she reminded me before not to call her when sheâs at work.
I impatiently stared at the hands of the clock on the wall.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
Professor isnât back yet.
Tick-tock, Tick-tock.
I finished all the housework.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
Not back yet, not back yet?
The second hand turned in a circle, two circles, three circlesâ
At the instant when the seventh circle arrives.
Trriiiiiing, triiiiiingâ¦â¦ The phone in the corridor starts to ring.
â itâs Professor!
I run to the corridor like a spring, jumping onto the receiver of the phone.
âHello, sorry for the wait! This is the Umbrella residence!â
I wait for the answer of the opposing party with a pounding heart.
âSorry for calling so late. This is the First Robotics Laboratory of Oval University.â
A male voice is coming from the other side of the phone. The First Robotics Laboratory would be where Professor works.
Learning that he isnât Professor, I couldnât help but feel disappointed, but I still answer calmly.
âI am Wendy von Umbrellaâs robot. My master is not here at the moment, so please leave a message if you wish to contact her.â
I answer in the tone of a machine.
After a momentâs silence, the man says in a low voice: âI am Professor Umbrellaâs assistant, Ralph Ciel.â
The sensitivity of my auditory function increased sharply.
âIs that so. Thanks for taking care of my master all this time.â
ââ¦â¦ about Professor Umbrella.â
âYes.â
â itâs strange.
Goosebumps appear on my skin at that moment.
Why has this person called here specially?
If he wanted to look for Professor, he could just call her own phone.
Uneasiness and fear crawl on my back like bugs.
âE- erm!â Therefore, I canât help but ask, âDid something happen to Professor!?â
He hesitated for a moment, then says in a determined voice.
The sharp weapon of truth pierces into my ears.
âProfessor Umbrella has died in an accident.â
â?
What.
Happenedâ
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Think,
World,
Everything isâ
ââ hello, hello hello!?â
The sound of someone talking is coming from the receiver.
â guest.
I wonder how much time passed.
â a guest.
The electronic voice called me again and again.
â thereâs a guest at the door.
That moment, I finally came to my senses.
ââ¦â¦ Ah?â
There is something touching my leg.
I look down, only to see the swaying receiver knocking lightly on my leg.
â ahhh.
My fingers start to move.
âthatâs right.
âProfessorâ¦â¦
The lost memories surface from the depths of my consciousness.
âbecause of an accidentâ¦â¦
âthere was a phone call.
A terrible phone call.
âdied.
âthereâs a guest. Please greet them immediately.
Because of the electronic voice urging me, I start to walk.
Almost like I am running away from here, I walk step by step down the stairs, opening the door.
Reached the outside.
Outside, it already sank into the total darkness of night time.
I walk to the arch door, seeing a black car parked on the road in front of the door.
Outside the driverâs seat, a man wearing a suit and a pained expression on his face is standing there. The man is still young, but his face is a sickly white, and his cheeks are sunken like an old man.
I call to him, then he leaves the body of the car that he was leaning against just now in surprise, proclaiming that he is the assistant, Ralph Ciel.
Heâs the person who gave me the terrible phone call.
âYouâre Miss Iris Rain Umbrellaâ¦â¦ huh?â
Ralph says in a low voice. I nod silently.
After that, the door of the car opens silently. Because of Ralphâs urgings, I sit down on the seat beside the driverâs seat.
I did not ask where we are going.
While sitting in the car, I look out the windows with unfocused eyes. The neon lights in the Commercial Street are casting thin rays of lights like fallen meteorites, falling away from me gradually.
Ralph says nothing. If you say that heâs not talking because heâs worried about me, itâs more like he doesnât have the energy to speak. The more pressing problem is that the only common topic between us is Professor, but if we were to speak of her, we could not avoid coming up against the terrible news again.
After about ten minutes, the car reaches the hospital. I step down from the car, staring at the white building greeting us in the night skies.
Ralph brought me to the basement entrance of the hospital. We underwent quite a few security checks on our way, in the hall and the elevator, and our IDs and other items were inspected. After knowing that Iâm Professorâs robot, some people stared at me with a curious expression.
The room is at the end of a corridor at B4 level.
Pushing open the door that has a sign of âcold storageâ on it, I can see a round capsule-like box that is about two meters long at the center of the room. According to Ralph, Professorâs body is kept in the white box.
Before opening the box, Ralph explains the âincidentâ simply.
This morning, Professor was in the seventh dissection analysis lab on twelfth floor, performing a âjudicial dissection.â Quite a lot of rampage incidents like this have happened recently, and these robots are repeatedly sent to the lab. At this time, I recall the robot that went on a rampage at the Venus Fountain Plaza.
âThe incident happened about thirty minutes after dissection started.â
Ralph licks his dry lips and continues.
After the robot was brought to the dissection analysis room, Professor and Ralphâs group started to dissect him.
The dissection proceeded well for half an hour, and at that moment that the accident occurred. The robot suddenly rebooted, stood up and started to go on a rampage. Though his battery level was rather low, he still rebooted for unknown reasons. Before they managed to use the emergency laser gun, the robot broke down the massive walls of the dissection analysis room with a power unimaginable to humans in normal conditions.
âProfessor Umbrella was the nearest person at that moment. â¦â¦ Since all of that happened all of a sudden, Professor didnât have the time to run away, so the robotââ
Professorâs abdomen was pierced through.
Professor is dead.
After that, the robot was overwhelmed with laser gun.
And here we are.
The white lid of the capsule opens like a flower blooming, then her body appears before me.
âPro- fessorâ¦â¦â
I stagger towards Professor, who is lying inside, like a sleepwalker.
Professorâs face has lost its usual color, but looks very peaceful, as if she is sleeping. Even so, a stain of blood can still be seen at the corner of her mouth. The red blood stuck to her chest and her belly looks very strange in stark contrast with her white face, so I cannot help but stare for some time. As though she is a red rose sealed in white ice, Professor radiates a certain frozen beauty.
I extend my hand to Professor, touching her white face.
So cold.
Professorâs body is so cold that I suspect my temperature sensing function has malfunctioned. Her body temperature is much lower than that of a living person.
I start to plead soundlessly.
Professor. Itâs me, your Iris.
Professor. Is it painful? You lost so much blood, so itâs probably painful.
Professor. Why did you do such dangerous thing? Why didnât you just let the others handle the robot in a rampage?
Professor. Professor, who helped robots all this time, why must you be killed by a robot? This just doesnât make sense.
Professor. Iâm here. Your Iris is here.
So Professor. Please open your eyes. Give me an order. Tease me. Touch my hairâ
Just at this moment.
âThatâ gave out a dim light at the corner of my vision. After looking closely, I spy a familiar silver cigarette box on the small table that has the capsule containing Professorâs body. Professor loves this locked up box that is like a necklace.
I stretch out my hand to it. My fingers are still trembling comically.
The cigarette case in my palm is stained with blood, and only a circlet cigarette can be seen after opening the oval lid.
âAhhhâ¦â¦â
And I noticed at that moment.
A tiny photo is stuck to the inside of the lid. The photo's background is a movie signboard, and thereâs a young girl with a forced smile and a woman smiling devilishly placing her hand on the girlâs shoulders.
This is the group photo that Professor and I took before this.
âWhen Professor Umbrella died, she was still clutching that cigarette case.â
Ralph says in a low voice.