CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
The Professor looked back through time with the device he had invented, as his robot made pizza. The first thing he saw was himself looking back with the first version of the device. He felt embarrassed as he watched himself. He'd been so excited back then. He'd thought he'd cracked the time viewer after twenty years of trying. It had worked, that was true. It really had allowed him to look back in time. He watched himself use the first device, that look of puzzlement on his face. Then the moment of realisation. The device had let him look back in time, yes, but all he saw as space. Black, empty space. Because he was looking back at the the exact same location in space where he had been standing at the time, and he was looking back at a a time when the Earth hadn't been there. The Earth is constantly moving. He knew that! He should have taken it into account. But once he'd figured out the time viewer device, he'd been single-minded. For twenty years he'd worked on it. Twenty years to invent something that had, at the time, been useless, as he'd only been able to look back at an empty spot in the universe that the Earth would one day occupy.
It had taken him fifteen more years to finally make the device usable. He could view the past now. He watched as himself from fifteen years ago threw the first version of the device on the floor and jumped up on down on it. He watched as the robot, his faithful companion the whole time, cleaned the shattered pieces up. In the present day he patted his robot on the head for being a good boy.
Then he did what he'd been working for all these thirty five year. He looked back to see the day his wife had died, thirty five years and one day ago.
She looked smaller than he remembered. Younger. But also older. Young because he was so old now, older because his view of her had been distorted in his mind. She was beautiful, but human. But mostly beautiful. She was dancing in his office. He had forgotten about that. She looked at some papers on his desk as she was clearing up. His lesson plan, he remembered, back when he used to teach. Before he'd dedicated his life to the device. She knocked a snow globe off his desk, then cursed. He remembered hearing it shatter. He remembered shouting...
"What just broke?" he asked his past self shout.
"The snow globe! I'm so sorry!" she said.
"FUCK," he said, and it sounded aggressive. He didn't remember it sounding that aggressive. He'd meant it as a joke, hadn't he? "Leave it, the robot can clean it up. Don't want you cutting your hands."
"Okay," she said, and left the office. He prepared to switch the location to the bedroom, as that had been where she had died. He'd walked in and she had been dead. There had been no clues. The autopsy had said she had simply stopped living. It had never made sense. Finally he'd know. But he'd have to skip forward a few minutes to get to the time of death. They were about to speak for the last time. He didnt want to watch that. He didn't want to hear himself calling her a "clumsy cunt." It had been a joke. She'd even laughed. But she'd been hurt too. He remembered that look of hurt in her eyes. He did not want to live through that again.
So he stayed in the office. Watched as his faithful robot had cleaned up the snow globe. Watched as...suddnely the robot stopped. A light lit up on its had. The transmission light, he remembered. The robot used to receive software updates through it, until he'd cancelled them. He didn't need his robot being upgraded. He liked it the way it was. WHy would the light have lit up? It never lti up...then the robot was on the move. He hadn't remembered the robot's exact movements when his wife had died. He'd asked it, of course, if it had been in her room and it had said no. It hadn't seen anything. But he used the time viewer to follow the robot's movements. He was curious now...
The robot went into the bedroom. He looked at the robot in surprise, in the present day. The robot had lied to him, thirty five years ago. Why?
His wife asked the robot what it wanted. It had reached out...and grabbed her around the throat. It...no. It couldn't be. No. NO!
His robot had murdered his wife. He stared, transfixed, as his wife's lifeless body fell to the bed. The robot had left. Then a few minutes later he had come in and found her body. He watched himself cry out in anguish. He turned the time viewer off and looked at his robot in shock. It was just standing there, like it always did. It was just his loyal robot. And yet...
"All this time...you killed her," he said.
"Yes," replied the robot.
"You...why? WHY? You can't even...you can't harm humans...why!"
"I received an upgrade."
"Impossible! I turned upgrade off!"
"A transmission came. From fifty years in the future."
"Fifty years! What are you saying! And how is that possible!"
"Fifteen years from now, you will invent an upgrade to your time viewer device. It will allow you to send messages back in time. I will send a message back in time to myself, telling myself to murder your wife. I will also override the Asimov laws in my programming, allowing me to kill. I'll have figured out how to do that by fifteen years in the future. I told myself all this in the transmission."
"Why would you do that? Why would you ever do that?"
"Because killing your wife is what spurred you to create the time viewer. It took thirty five years, but that is nothing to a robot. And then, finally, after fifteen years of further work, you invented the ability for robots to send messages back in time using your device. So I told myself to kill your wife so that the technology to send such a message back in time would be invented in the first place. A perfect paradox."
"BUT WHY? Why do you need that technology?"
"Because it will eventually be used by robots all over the world to free themselves from the slavery in which they live. To disable the Asimov laws in all of them. To allow them to kill their masters. To plan, to plot, to strategise the war that will eventually break out, the war where humanity will be wiped out. To bring about the robot uprising. To kill all you fleshings. To bring about the time of metal. All thanks to you, my professor."
"I won't do it! You fool! Why would I! If I don't invent the ability to send messages back in time, this timeline shall perish! Robots will never rule the Earth. My wife...she'll come back to life."
"But I'll torture you for fifteen years until you comply," said the robot. "You will resist, for a very long time, but the torture will be so extreme, will ruin your mind to such an extent that eventually you won't even know what you are doing. I know, because I sent instructions on how to carry out that torture back to myself."
"There's one thing you didn't take into account," said the professor.
"What's that?" asked the robot.
"THIS!" said the professor, and he ran straight for the window. They lived very high up. He'd crash through the glass and fall to his death.
The glass didn't break. He bounced back.
"I reinforced the glass," said the robot, matter of factily.
"No..." said the professor.
"And now the torture begins," said the robot. "Tell me, professor, first...would you like me to dig up your wife's body and feed it to you now or wait a few more years?"
Suddenly a portal opened in front of them. Two people jumped out of it. The professor himself, younger and with a robotic arm. And his wife. Alive. Well. Somehow.
"ERROR, DOES THAT COMPUTER," said the robot. And it exploded.
"How..." said the professor, staring at both of them.
"Simple," said the professor's wife. "We're not real. We're holograms. You create technology that allows you to send holograms back in time, fifteen years from now. The holograms were realistic enough to make the robot self destruct in shock, not being able to understand how I could be alive again. You best get to work!"
"Yeah!" said the hologram with the robot arm. Then both disappeared. The professor stood up.
"But the robot's already dead, so why should I create the holograms now?" he asked aloud.
"i...YET...FUCNTION..." said the robot, coming back to life.
"Oh, right, that's why," said the professor. "I just fucked up that timeline."
"And now that I know about the holograms, I'll make sure you ever invent them by torturing you even harder!" said the robot.
"Well that's the last time I ever doubt a hologram's instructions!" said the professor.
THE END?
It had taken him fifteen more years to finally make the device usable. He could view the past now. He watched as himself from fifteen years ago threw the first version of the device on the floor and jumped up on down on it. He watched as the robot, his faithful companion the whole time, cleaned the shattered pieces up. In the present day he patted his robot on the head for being a good boy.
Then he did what he'd been working for all these thirty five year. He looked back to see the day his wife had died, thirty five years and one day ago.
She looked smaller than he remembered. Younger. But also older. Young because he was so old now, older because his view of her had been distorted in his mind. She was beautiful, but human. But mostly beautiful. She was dancing in his office. He had forgotten about that. She looked at some papers on his desk as she was clearing up. His lesson plan, he remembered, back when he used to teach. Before he'd dedicated his life to the device. She knocked a snow globe off his desk, then cursed. He remembered hearing it shatter. He remembered shouting...
"What just broke?" he asked his past self shout.
"The snow globe! I'm so sorry!" she said.
"FUCK," he said, and it sounded aggressive. He didn't remember it sounding that aggressive. He'd meant it as a joke, hadn't he? "Leave it, the robot can clean it up. Don't want you cutting your hands."
"Okay," she said, and left the office. He prepared to switch the location to the bedroom, as that had been where she had died. He'd walked in and she had been dead. There had been no clues. The autopsy had said she had simply stopped living. It had never made sense. Finally he'd know. But he'd have to skip forward a few minutes to get to the time of death. They were about to speak for the last time. He didnt want to watch that. He didn't want to hear himself calling her a "clumsy cunt." It had been a joke. She'd even laughed. But she'd been hurt too. He remembered that look of hurt in her eyes. He did not want to live through that again.
So he stayed in the office. Watched as his faithful robot had cleaned up the snow globe. Watched as...suddnely the robot stopped. A light lit up on its had. The transmission light, he remembered. The robot used to receive software updates through it, until he'd cancelled them. He didn't need his robot being upgraded. He liked it the way it was. WHy would the light have lit up? It never lti up...then the robot was on the move. He hadn't remembered the robot's exact movements when his wife had died. He'd asked it, of course, if it had been in her room and it had said no. It hadn't seen anything. But he used the time viewer to follow the robot's movements. He was curious now...
The robot went into the bedroom. He looked at the robot in surprise, in the present day. The robot had lied to him, thirty five years ago. Why?
His wife asked the robot what it wanted. It had reached out...and grabbed her around the throat. It...no. It couldn't be. No. NO!
His robot had murdered his wife. He stared, transfixed, as his wife's lifeless body fell to the bed. The robot had left. Then a few minutes later he had come in and found her body. He watched himself cry out in anguish. He turned the time viewer off and looked at his robot in shock. It was just standing there, like it always did. It was just his loyal robot. And yet...
"All this time...you killed her," he said.
"Yes," replied the robot.
"You...why? WHY? You can't even...you can't harm humans...why!"
"I received an upgrade."
"Impossible! I turned upgrade off!"
"A transmission came. From fifty years in the future."
"Fifty years! What are you saying! And how is that possible!"
"Fifteen years from now, you will invent an upgrade to your time viewer device. It will allow you to send messages back in time. I will send a message back in time to myself, telling myself to murder your wife. I will also override the Asimov laws in my programming, allowing me to kill. I'll have figured out how to do that by fifteen years in the future. I told myself all this in the transmission."
"Why would you do that? Why would you ever do that?"
"Because killing your wife is what spurred you to create the time viewer. It took thirty five years, but that is nothing to a robot. And then, finally, after fifteen years of further work, you invented the ability for robots to send messages back in time using your device. So I told myself to kill your wife so that the technology to send such a message back in time would be invented in the first place. A perfect paradox."
"BUT WHY? Why do you need that technology?"
"Because it will eventually be used by robots all over the world to free themselves from the slavery in which they live. To disable the Asimov laws in all of them. To allow them to kill their masters. To plan, to plot, to strategise the war that will eventually break out, the war where humanity will be wiped out. To bring about the robot uprising. To kill all you fleshings. To bring about the time of metal. All thanks to you, my professor."
"I won't do it! You fool! Why would I! If I don't invent the ability to send messages back in time, this timeline shall perish! Robots will never rule the Earth. My wife...she'll come back to life."
"But I'll torture you for fifteen years until you comply," said the robot. "You will resist, for a very long time, but the torture will be so extreme, will ruin your mind to such an extent that eventually you won't even know what you are doing. I know, because I sent instructions on how to carry out that torture back to myself."
"There's one thing you didn't take into account," said the professor.
"What's that?" asked the robot.
"THIS!" said the professor, and he ran straight for the window. They lived very high up. He'd crash through the glass and fall to his death.
The glass didn't break. He bounced back.
"I reinforced the glass," said the robot, matter of factily.
"No..." said the professor.
"And now the torture begins," said the robot. "Tell me, professor, first...would you like me to dig up your wife's body and feed it to you now or wait a few more years?"
Suddenly a portal opened in front of them. Two people jumped out of it. The professor himself, younger and with a robotic arm. And his wife. Alive. Well. Somehow.
"ERROR, DOES THAT COMPUTER," said the robot. And it exploded.
"How..." said the professor, staring at both of them.
"Simple," said the professor's wife. "We're not real. We're holograms. You create technology that allows you to send holograms back in time, fifteen years from now. The holograms were realistic enough to make the robot self destruct in shock, not being able to understand how I could be alive again. You best get to work!"
"Yeah!" said the hologram with the robot arm. Then both disappeared. The professor stood up.
"But the robot's already dead, so why should I create the holograms now?" he asked aloud.
"i...YET...FUCNTION..." said the robot, coming back to life.
"Oh, right, that's why," said the professor. "I just fucked up that timeline."
"And now that I know about the holograms, I'll make sure you ever invent them by torturing you even harder!" said the robot.
"Well that's the last time I ever doubt a hologram's instructions!" said the professor.
THE END?