The Wild Robot

“More RECOs could be headed here right now. I just do not know. There is so much I do not know. I think it is time I get some answers.”

“Will I ever see you again?” said Brightbill, wiping his eyes.

“You are my son, and this is my home,” said Roz. “I will do everything in my power to return.”

Brightbill hugged his mother’s worn face.

“I love you, Mama.”

“I love you, son.”

The goose fluttered back to his flock.

The robot took one last look at her home.

The door hummed closed.

CHAPTER 79 THE DEPARTURE

The airship’s engines automatically fired up. Then the ship slowly floated above the island, turned to the south, and disappeared into the clouds.

CHAPTER 80 THE SKY

Our story ends in the sky, where a robot was being whisked away from the only home she had ever known. As Roz sat in the airship, broken and alone and speeding toward a mysterious future, she looked back at her miraculous past.

Reader, it must seem impossible that our robot could have changed so much. Maybe the RECOs were right. Maybe Roz really was defective, and some glitch in her programming had caused her to accidentally become a wild robot. Or maybe Roz was designed to think and learn and change; she had simply done those things better than anyone could have imagined.

However it happened, Roz felt lucky to have lived such an amazing life. And every moment had been recorded in her computer brain. Even her earliest memories were perfectly clear. She could still see the sun shining through the gash in her crate. She could still hear the waves crashing against the shore. She could still smell the salt water and the pine trees. Would she ever see and hear and smell those things again? Would she ever again climb a mountain, or build a lodge, or play with a goose?

Not just a goose. A son.

Brightbill had been Roz’s son from the moment she picked up his egg. She had saved him from certain death, and then he had saved her. He was the reason Roz had lived so well for so long. And if she wanted to continue living, if she wanted to be wild again, she needed to be with her family and her friends on her island. So, as Roz raced through the sky, she began computing a plan.

She would get the repairs she needed.

She would escape from her new life.

She would find her way back home.

 

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A NOTE ABOUT THE STORY

I’ve always been fascinated by robots. By the real robots that exist today, by the robots that will exist in the future, and by the fantastic robot characters that exist only in books and films. It’s funny how many philosophical questions spring up when we think about artificial beings. Do we want robots that can think and feel, like a person? Would we trust robots to perform surgery, care for children, or police our cities? In a world where robots did all the work, how would we humans spend our time?

I’m also fascinated by the natural world. I grew up exploring the fields and streams and forests near my home, and I learned a lot about the local wildlife. I knew that deer were most active at dawn and dusk. I watched squirrels methodically collecting and storing acorns. I heard geese honking overhead as they flew south every autumn.

Animals have such predictable behavior, and follow such rigid routines, that at times they seem almost… robotic. And somewhere along the line it occurred to me that animal instincts are kind of like computer programs. Thanks to their instincts, animals automatically run from danger, build nests, and stay close to their families, and they often do these things without thinking, as if they’ve been programmed to perform specific actions at specific times. Surprisingly, wild animals and robots actually have some things in common.

These kinds of thoughts have filled my imagination for most of my life. And then, a few years ago, I started scribbling down words about a robot and some wild animals. I couldn’t stop doodling pictures of a robot in a tree. I started asking myself odd questions. What would an intelligent robot do if she were stranded in the wilderness? How might she adapt to the environment? How might the environment adapt to her? Why am I referring to this robot with words like “she” and “her”? And for that matter, why have so many science-fiction writers given genders to so many of their robot characters?