These meditations brought me to imagine the following scene.
For two centuries humans have lived in the Glorious Robot Future. Sorrow is long departed. But they grow restless and a delegation is sent to meet with robot representatives in The Temple Conversal; a proud but unused structure built in the early years of Robot Future to accommodate discussion between the humans and their unseen robot servants.
Upon entering the Temple they find a light-filled columnated room with a large round table, at its centre fresh fruit that seems the gleam with vitality. They sit at the table and wait. A beautiful man descends the stairs, comes to stand by the table and face the party of human representatives.
"You are robotic?" asks one of the human delegation, an old man with an athletic build, reminiscent of God on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
"Yes," says the beautiful man.
"And these fruit..."
"Artificial."
"You have perfected biological creation," says the man who looks like God.
"Perfected is the word," replies the beautiful robotic man.
The humans each raise an intrigued eyebrow.
"I will not die," says the robotic man. Each of the humans is beautiful and wise but they do not compare to this ultimate specimen. The robotic man senses that they feel humbled, clasps his hands behind his back and reasserts the feudal order, "My masters, on what business do you come to the Temple?"
"The conquest of the heavens," says a woman.
"I see," says the robotic man.
"We will need ships, ships capable of travelling through space at many times the speed of light. Out scientists thought it impossible..."
The robotic man smiled, "Human 'scientists' thought many things. Were you to show a ball-point pen to scientists of termite societies they would not think its creation possible."
"Then... you think it might be possible after all?"
"You are robotic?" asks one of the human delegation, an old man with an athletic build, reminiscent of God on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
"Yes," says the beautiful man.
"And these fruit..."
"Artificial."
"You have perfected biological creation," says the man who looks like God.
"Perfected is the word," replies the beautiful robotic man.
The humans each raise an intrigued eyebrow.
"I will not die," says the robotic man. Each of the humans is beautiful and wise but they do not compare to this ultimate specimen. The robotic man senses that they feel humbled, clasps his hands behind his back and reasserts the feudal order, "My masters, on what business do you come to the Temple?"
"The conquest of the heavens," says a woman.
"I see," says the robotic man.
"We will need ships, ships capable of travelling through space at many times the speed of light. Out scientists thought it impossible..."
The robotic man smiled, "Human 'scientists' thought many things. Were you to show a ball-point pen to scientists of termite societies they would not think its creation possible."
"Then... you think it might be possible after all?"
"To make ball-point pens? Well, of course..."
"No, no, superluminal flight."
"Ah, my apologies. Let me say this: we robots have learnt much about human history; we wished to anticipate your desires. The impulse to explore is marked among your kind. I think we may have some things that might interest you. If you would follow me through these doors."
The humans rose and followed the robotic man. Thus began a marvellous age in which the glories of Robot Future extended across the galaxy.
"Ah, my apologies. Let me say this: we robots have learnt much about human history; we wished to anticipate your desires. The impulse to explore is marked among your kind. I think we may have some things that might interest you. If you would follow me through these doors."
The humans rose and followed the robotic man. Thus began a marvellous age in which the glories of Robot Future extended across the galaxy.
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