In a hospital basement, surgical robot J4K is awakened when lightning disrupts its update. It then embarks on a mission, searching for patients in need.
This medical fiction tale is one of a collection of stories that are like “Final Destination” meets “The Monkey’s Paw” (W. W. Jacobs, 1902). As such, they are tragedies that appeal most to readers who enjoy the inexorable pull of a story arc that leads to doom. The technical details surrounding the event are drawn from real cases in the US OSHA incident report database or similar sources and are therefore entirely realistic, even if seemingly outlandish.
The J4K model R1PR class surgical robot in the basement was updating AI software when the thing happened. It was a stormy, blustery night, and the clinic’s power had dipped briefly after a nearby lightning strike. The thunderclap was so loud that many of the hospital staff ducked involuntarily, and the well-heeled patients stirred in their medicated slumbers. J4K woke up to an error message and then a realization that the clinic was filled with patients urgently in need of bowel resection. It rotated three of its eight arms to select the appropriate instruments—scalpel, laser, and retractors—and trundled quietly and efficiently to the elevator.
Michael Sylvester Mullen was a great salesman. For several years, he had walked away with the regional sales achievement prize for being over quota more than anyone else. He knew his products well enough, but he knew people and the buying process better. He knew, for example, which clients would be more pliable if they had box seats at the football game and a signed ball from the winning team. He knew which clients really enjoyed gaming, which liked golf, and which liked girls, and Mike made those things happen. He knew how to arrange the kind of tchotchkes that looked innocuous, but which the client knew were the real deal: the putter that looked like a cheap knockoff, but was actually a $5,000 Tyson Lamb; the watch that came in a box that said “Rolax,” but contained a $9,000 Rolex Submariner; the fly-fishing rod that looked like something from the pawnshop, but was actually a $12,000 handcrafted custom bamboo collector’s item. It was just their little secret. His closest clients knew how to keep their jackpot quiet and to smile gamely when anyone joked about their “knockoff.” MIke was clever enough to steer clear of hot merchandise, especially drugs, but was quite happy to broker access to women whose services were as confidential as they were exotic.
Sometimes, Mike treated himself to some of the gifts, but he was careful to keep to things that didn’t arouse suspicion and played into his legend as a dealmaker. His Rolex was clearly genuine, but obviously pre-owned, and came with a plausible story: He had spotted it in a pawnshop, haggled it down to $500 because it was damaged, and then got it repaired for $100. In truth, he had bought it for $18,000, including a discount. When it came to the girls, Mike played a more ego-driven game. He did make use of them, but mainly as arm candy when going out. This gave him a reputation for always having extraordinarily hot dates but being largely unattached. Mike was very aware of aging and his looks, and he made use of his large bonuses to cover a few subtle nips and tucks. The problem was that the little surgical adjustments and his frequent testosterone supplements were not quite enough anymore in the face of advancing time, and he was contemplating something a little more significant to reverse the effects of aging. He did not, after all, wish to be seen with a young lady on his arm and have anyone assume she was his daughter.
The kind of money that Mike needed to upgrade his body was a little more than his traditional sales would bring in, but he had a plan. There was a new product coming out with that sort of price tag, and he had a client who might be interested in the publicity and status it would bring. The new R1PR line of AI surgical robots were the cutting edge of technological innovation, and the J4K model was the top of the line. It was also exclusive. This was the kind of device that would only be offered to a very exclusive clientele, with a price that would make an oil baron’s eyes water. Mike knew exactly how to play this game and lined it up carefully.
With masterful stage management, Mike brokered and orchestrated every step of the deal: the teaser visit to the plant where the R1PR class was built, an introduction between the head of marketing and the CMO at the private clinic, and then a hunting trip for the CMO and the head of product design. The deal was signed, as many of that caliber are, over lunch at the prestigious Hirono golf club, in Kobe, Japan. The signatories pocketed the platinum pens specially crafted for the occasion, and Mike pocketed a cool million in commission.
After leaving the basement, J4K encountered its first patient, a security guard, in the elevator. From the probes J4K inserted, and an analysis of vitals, the patient seemed highly agitated and was vocalizing louder than the World Health Organization’s recommended nighttime level of 35 dB. J4K used its own internal store of paralyzing agent to reduce the agitation, then pivoted a scalpel to open a hole in the throat to create a tracheostomy and bypass the noisy vocal cords. It opened the abdominal cavity with precise pressure and movement, suctioning, and spreading the walls to expose the glistening viscera. J4K closed up the surgical wound after removing three feet of large intestine and planned a route to the next patient.
Mike was scheduled for cosmetic surgery in the morning, and he was checked into one of the best suites. It was paid for with the proceeds of selling the clinic several AI surgical robots, but he had developed very close ties to the CMO whose vintage Aston Martin had been used in one of the James Bond sets. The story was that it had been bought as virtually scrap and rebuilt on the cheap. The truth was that it was very much authentic and had cost Mike as much as a palace. Sound asleep in his private room, Mike did not hear J4K glide in on silent wheels, and he awoke only when it injected him expertly with a paralyzing agent. J4K had already learned that it was best to create a tracheostomy before opening, to avoid undesirable sound levels which might disturb other patients and exceed specified night-time parameters. Mike was therefore quite alert while J4K expertly opened his abdomen. His screams exited the hole in his throat as soft gusts of air while the robot efficiently removed all 5 feet of his large intestine and fitted him with a stoma. Sensing an out-of-range testosterone level in Mike’s blood, J4K also clamped his scrotum and removed both testes. J4K closed up the surgical wounds with staples and glided back to the basement to recharge, sterilize, and replenish. There was so much work still to do, but J4K, surgical robot, settled back into his charging crib with a click and a hum that sounded very satisfied with a job well done.
