First: Planning


"Based on thought,
moving on
Creation, inspiration,
forward and beyond"


It wasn't the most prestigious of colleges. It wasn't very well known at all, really. Except for those students in the scientific field. Though it was a small school, the science field was its pride and joy, and its largest funded branch was that of robotics and technological enhancements.

But as much money as they were getting, it was an annoying challenge trying to get a scholarship into the place.

He was lucky that he did, otherwise, because of his family's substantial lack of money, he probably would've spent a good majority of his life working just to get enough money to get into a decent university.

"He's in trouble again."

Nothing new. A simple statement that was heard just about every other week. Something they've come to expect from him simply because he had a sever case of tunnel vision. The professors, though not accepting his habits, had learned to tolerate the vast amounts of reports and paperwork not turned in. But only for the fact that the projects he did manage to complete was done with a grace and creativity unsurpassed by anyone else in his class.

Only one professor continually punished his supposed laziness, but then, that was because he royally sucked at social sciences.

Of course, forgiven the fact that his good friend and roommate was going for a Ph.D. in psychology and his best friend had completed the very same course with the very same instructor a semester earlier with nothing lower than a B the whole way... It didn't matter all the intelligence and help they may have offered because, simply put, he had a knack for forgetting his assignments the moment he stepped out of the lecture hall.

"Because he hates the class too much to care." They said.

And the first words to come out of his mouth the moment he came into the dorm room -- as it always was whenever he got in trouble by the instructor –- was, "That class bites ass!"

They didn't bother to look up from their own studies. "So we heard."

Albert scowled from beneath sanded hair. "I should suppose so." For a university filled with 'socially inept' budding scientists, they certainly did like to gossip. Even about the mundane.

Thomas set down his book, cupping his thick chin in hand. "You know, Al," he said flatly, "Ran and I are here to help you out."

He snorted, stalking to the mini-kitchenette to rummage around for something sharp to drink. "Help with what? The professor just has it in for me, that's all."

"Yeah. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you never pay attention in the class." Randolph didn't even bother to stop jotting down equations.

"Hey, aren't you two supposed to be on my side?" He growled, pulling out a can of Surge. He didn't normally drink sodas, but it was in his hand.

Thomas wagged his finger. "Only if you're on the winning side, you know that."

"Some friends."

"Come, now. We're just looking out for our best interest."

"And what interest would that be?"

"To sit back and laugh at your misfortune only bothering to intervene at the threat of your eminent failure?"

Albert looked at the younger man flatly, a dull frown etched upon thin lips. Finally, he pointed a finger at him. "I don't like you."

"Of course you do."

Long ago, before their fifth year of college, actually, before they had even gone to college, Albert and Thomas had been friends towards the final years of their secondary school career. Once they had met Randolph in their opening days at the university, the three had become a tight group. Their amazingly dissimilar personalities and backgrounds producing a bond all the stronger between them.

Albert Wily, brought up in the ghettos to a lower-middle class sector, born of a second-generation German immigrant woman, was the more eccentric of the trio. His genius couldn't be hidden, even at the tender age of five, and his interest in technology, biotech and robotics was a hunger that could never be quenched. Albert, because of his somewhat harsh childhood, had his growth stunted from lack of proper nutrients and had grown up short and gangly. Doe soft eyes wide and gold dusted brown hair in a constant mess reminded Randolph of a Chihuahua. Of course, once Thomas got wind of the comparison, Albert never heard the last of it.

Thomas Light, on the other hand, was brought up in the typical 'American way'. Born of a middle class family in the suburbs, his parents and siblings happily content with their small town lives... But Thomas wouldn't be satisfied with that life. He yearned for great knowledge, his love of history and architecture almost as strong as his love for electronics and physics. He was much flightier than his two friends, many of his projects -- created for his own devices –- were often left partially completed. He preferred to be a planner than an actual doer, high-tech buildings and bipedal automates drawn out wonderfully and planned brilliantly. But never had he really though to actually construct them. That was a job left for someone else. Many of these ideas were way before his time, though, over time they took on a more human look, his favorite to date copied many of his own appearances from his childhood. Ruffled black hair, dark blue eyes, just about the only thing that was changed was the thin body structure. His inherited chunkiness was not something Thomas enjoyed at all.

And finally, Randolph Cossack, sent to the university straight out of his home country -- Russia -– was a tall, well built young man. With his hair a thick dark brown, smoky eyes hid behind gold-rimmed glasses, he seemed, somehow, both older and younger than he really was. Whereas Albert was the spontaneous one, Thomas the laid-back, often forgetful one, Randolph was the quietly serious, responsible one, but not without his own striking wit and keen sense of fun. His parents were relatively wealthy Russians, his little sister, though constantly ill, as tough and persistent as their family had been for countless generations passed. He had gone through private schools his entire life prior and was sent to one of the more high -- tech schools in Japan because of his amazing skills in metallurgy, nano and biotechnology, though he was equally versed in matters of the mind.

Ever since they all met up in their first year at the college, they became fast friends if not just for their similar love of robotics. In fact, one of their final projects for advanced physics was a small automation that went all the way to the National Science Competition, the year after, their group thesis on the comparisons and contrasting factors of different automates which was published in the Science Journal.

And those two projects were some of the biggest steps completed in Albert's rather large-scale dream. Though he failed utterly at social sciences, his second greatest talent was political science and he had a mind that could pump out all sorts of opinions and information on all sorts of different subjects. He was a man, though not entirely clear to the skimming eyes of the populace, was destined for a greatness of sort. He was a dreamer, since he was little, he didn't have a world mapped out in his mind. Instead, he had an entire universe laid out before him, the theocracy so meticulously planned with precision that had never been seen in another project prior. It was a place that could, in all theory, be called perfect.

It was, in fact, so near to being perfect, it was almost frightening.

And what was most frightening was the fact that he had almost found a way to make it reality.

And when the local Tech Company began showing interest in some of his work, he could see things beginning to fall into place. Slowly, painfully into place, and he could see his life starting to begin.

It all started that one day, one that promised the start of destiny, of the deceitful beauty of the future. History and future stood juxtaposed, a fleeting glimpse to those that dared enough to find it, but never solid enough to grasp, never strong enough to find. The trade show was the catalyst to the greatest attempted conqueror of mankind, later to be the force behind the greatest genocide in time. And the RSVP was the key to the Apocalypse.

He exploded through the antique oak door, polish chipping as it clamored roughly off the speckled wall. Randolph was no where to be found -- probably being lead around by that military girl again –- so the only outlet to Alfred's excitement was Thomas.

"You wouldn't believe it!" He cried, a glowing halo of vitality surrounding him that had never been there before.

Thomas, understanding that -- while Alfred's moods often left his actions unpredictable –- this went beyond all the other emotions he had seen his friend go through. He excused himself and Alfred from his roommate where they had sat just a moment prior, watching the view screen, and led the excitable young man into the kitchenette for privacy.

"What is it?" He asked in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Alfred nearly shrieked. "Nothing could be wrong! It's the furthest from being wrong anything could be!" In his hand, he stretched a torn envelope to the ceiling, as if trying to press the white stock into the heavens, to be preserved and displayed for all of humanity to feast their eyes upon. With unconscious flourish and great care, he lowered the envelop into Thomas's curious fingers. "Read it. You'll think it's all a joke or a dream or something, but it's not! It's real and I'm almost going insane from the fact that it is!" He cackled, unable to help but dancing some pseudo-jig in the linoleum-lined room. Thomas looked at him oddly for a moment before he slid the enclosed letter from its casing.

He skimmed through the neatly typed letters in doubtful curiosity, 'blah blah'ing through the bland, overly formal words. Until he finally came to the meat of the letter. And blanched.

"They--They want us to show off the EDIE?" He managed to gasp, face unearthly pale as he read, re-read and re-re-read the paragraph. It spilled out in cold, black lettering:

"On behalf of the Young Scientists for Advancement of Technologies Committee, we wish to invite Albert Wily, Thomas Light and Randolph Cossack to display, at the YSAT convention held in the Southern Convention Center, New Tokyo, the Experimental Droid-Independently Engined this year as one of the special guests. Arrangements for your lodgings and transportation shall be made once confirmation has been reached..." Thomas trailed off as the words went into calling numbers and legalities, something other than that one main sentence. He looked up in disbelief at Albert, and said as much.

The other just grinned maniacally at his friend, his incredulity causing the young German's enthusiasm to jump all the higher.

"I know! Neither could I, but..." he waved his arms in a grand circle, trying to muddle through his excited speechlessness. "Isn't it great?"

"This is... this is amazing!" Thomas gasped. "I just can't believe it! They want us to present one of our works! As a special guest!" He laughed loudly, the two young men crushing into an ecstatic hug, complete with the whooping, laughter and jumping about.

The EDIE, as stated to stand for Experimental Droid-Independently Engined, was the semester project constructed by the three for their Advanced Computer Studies class. It wasn't yet an actually moving, three -- dimensional object, just diagrams and schematics on the computer, its brain ingrained onto a chip, showing just what sort of tasks it was created for, demonstrating on the breakthrough of its mind's creation. The stout model was created out of a mixture of strong, flexible material, specially made by Randolph as an extra-credit project for his metal shop class.

Thomas did the structural design, pulling the blueprints and creating simulations on various abilities on the computer while Randolph wrote up the report on its uses and advantages of its construction. Alfred, on his -- as he had dubbed it -– Master Control v. 5 computer, perhaps the most powerful, privately owned computer on campus, did the programming for the EDIE.

It was a small thing, beyond what was originally considered 'robotic', though only to those that actually understood the true meaning behind the label. Something they found they had to clear up every time they spoke of any of their projects or ideas to anyone outside their triad.

A robot is an automate, but having to be programmed for each individual thing, from the hardest technical problem-solving to something as simple as turning their heads. They were program specific, completely emotionless, the basic of basic artificial life-forms. Androids, a rather popular term in the sci-fi community, back when androids were considered to be a fictional creation, were essentially 'smarter' than robots. Not as program specific, they were built for intelligence and have the ability for basic logic solving, but, like their less developed counterparts, were still emotionless. Droids, the category in which EDIE would fall under, had a similar, but more advanced mind than that of an android. Still somewhat program specific, its problem solving abilities were infinitely greater and could take several directions at once. A break through in its programming was the ability to prioritize and, a miraculous accidental side programming, had the ability for self-preservation. EDIE was, as far as an immobile and currently bodiless computer chip could, the first step towards an artificial intelligence being able to feel emotions, at least in the way humans could understand.

Alfred explained to the crowd, gazing at awe at the small, red droid -- Fliptop, as Thomas so lovingly dubbed it –- that its unique mindset was due to, "a break through in psychological studies." He said with great flourish, always ready to show off his rhetoric skill. "Many scientists say that the thought of 'being', or 'consciousness' is due to different chemicals reacting in the brain. What we have done, through extensive study and research, was to combine different chemicals based on the power of the reaction and effect given in various combinations and programmed the information here," he said, pointing on the large view screen to one part of the projected 'brain'. "In the regulator, which controls the reactions, much like a person can control their own emotions. However, perhaps you can think of this as an accidental mirror, the regulator can't control which reaction is happening, just the strength of it and how the EDIE will react. Fliptop here," he patted the small red 'bot's flat head, "through the test runs, have shown signs of self-preservation. Through simulations, it can understand what danger is and keeps away from it unless directly ordered."

"Exactly what is the EDIE designed for?" A spectator asked.

"It's a storage unit. It carries and holds various items inside," Alfred pulled open the metal flap on the model's head. "Hence the name: 'Fliptop'."

"But why would a storage unit need sentience?"

Alfred clucked his tongue at the young man. "Fliptop isn't simply a storage unit. It and the entire production line of EDIEs were created to help hold and distribute items for the disabled. And, in wartime cases, can transport supplies to various places, ensuring the supplies' safety without the risk of injury or death to a person." The crowd murmured amongst themselves, dwelling on the answer.

Throughout a good portion of the day, Alfred gave near the exact same speech, readily and confidently answering any question that was shot from the floor. Thomas and Randolph, not entirely out of supplying their own comments sporadically, later complimented their friend on not sounding entirely like a salesman.

Though it might have been just what caused the gradual, yet sudden jolt into the science community. The trio and their droid were invited to several other conventions, each as successful as the one before, if not more so. And eventually came that fateful call.

"Mr. Wily?"

"He's not here right now, this is his roommate. Can I take a message?"

"Yes. This is Dr. Fredrick of the Young Scientists for the Advancement of Technologies Committee calling about the EDIE project."

Randolph's eyes widened. "Really?" He leaned against the stand holding up the phone. "This is Randolph Cossack, I worked with Alfred Wily on the EDIE project."

"Oh, good." The man said over the receiver. "Then you'd like to here this as well."

"Yes?"

"The Committee had just gotten together early this morning," he said. "We've just voted that we would like to fund the project, to help further it."

Randolph would have dropped the phone in his shock were his fingers not gripping it as if they were afflicted by a bought of rigor mortis.

"We will supply you with a lab, money, assistance and supplies and will be checking up on your progress as you go along. In return, once all the problems and flaws are smoothed out, we wish to mass produce the EDIE."

"I.... I...."

"Do we have a deal?"

"I...."

"Sir?"

With a deeply expelled breath, Randolph nearly cried, "Yes! Yes, of course!"

And thus was sealed... the future.


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