#054
Were the humans talking about it? Popo could sense Mr. Yoo’s tense silence. But only for a moment.
– Stay calm and exit. No need to panic.
Hearing its owner’s voice suddenly improved its performance. This wasn’t an illusion. Popo, equipped with companion dog AI, often experienced performance boosts from Mr. Yoo’s encouragement.
Though it wanted to run right away, just a little more, just a little longer. It had to endure. Though it could feel humans approaching, Popo was a high-performance robot aware it was on a mission.
– Good, you’re doing well. Just keep going until you reach the lobby.
There were several transport robots in the lobby. Popo successfully blended in with the transport robots as it put down its items and sluggishly passed through the arch into the corridor.
“Huh? Why is this empty? Didn’t we fill everything? Teacher, what was here originally?”
“Hmm? Wait a second.”
Human voices were heard. Popo’s round body anxiously swayed left and right inside the metal box, making beep-beep sounds.
“This is strange? Wait… that transport robot from earlier, did it take something?”
Footsteps drew closer. They were checking the transport robots one by one from behind. Finally reaching the building corridor, Popo panicked. All the other transport robots had started picking up boxes placed in the corridor. But it needed to keep moving to get outside!
Popo hesitated briefly but kept moving. Naturally, its frame stood out as the only one heading toward the building exit.
“That one, isn’t that it?”
“Huh? What?”
Humans were chasing! Popo’s movement speed unconsciously kept increasing. What should it do? It wished Mr. Yoo would give instructions, but his voice couldn’t be heard, as if he was doing something. Popo decided to make its own judgment as a high-performance robot.
“What’s going on? It’s getting faster!”
What a sharp human. With no choice left, Popo started running at full speed. Vroom!
“Huh? Why is it so fast?”
“Must be malfunctioning.”
Fortunately, it lost its pursuers, and passersby seemed to dismiss Popo as just a malfunctioning robot.
– I told you to stay calm. Haah…
Mr. Yoo’s sigh could be heard. Popo tilted its round body sheepishly inside the metal box.
***
Sensory System Abnormality – Blocking Warning: D-4
Four days. The time left before his senses would be blocked. Thank goodness they found the Centimenade in time. Yoo Seong-woo continued sharing vision with Popo as he left the room.
Yeon Tae-soo arrived shortly after sending Popo out. He had managed to make the metal box while avoiding Yeon’s eyes. Even if discovered, it wouldn’t seem particularly strange. He could just say it was some kind of sculpture.
When he told Yeon Tae-soo he wanted coffee, fortunately, Yeon ran the errand himself. During the brief time he went to buy coffee at a nearby cafe, Yoo Seong-woo reconnected vision with Popo and confirmed its safe return.
“Stop by the incinerator and remove the box before coming back.”
Beep beep! Popo responded while running at incredible speed. It was cleverly choosing only paths without people.
The box would be incinerated, and the hospital CCTV would only show a transport robot, so there would be no evidence. Even if they discovered a transport robot took the Centimenade, it would likely be dismissed as an input error.
Just then, he heard Yeon Tae-soo entering. Yoo Seong-woo deliberately ignored Popo’s screen on one side as he accepted the coffee Yeon offered.
He had quite refined taste. Even for coffee, he seemed to have searched every corner of the neighborhood to find the most delicious cafe.
Drinking the warm coffee reduced his anxiety somewhat. Everything was going well. As he deeply inhaled the aroma, he suddenly realized Yeon Tae-soo’s gaze was fixed on him.
He was watching Yoo Seong-woo with his chin resting obliquely on one arm. The afternoon of Haeya-dong spread out behind Yeon Tae-soo.
It was a rare sunny day. As the sun’s transparent blessing shone down even into the narrow alleys, the black mold-covered and rust-red walls appeared more vivid than usual.
Flashy hologram billboards floating past the tightly packed buildings, humans prolonging their lives by patching parts of their bodies with materials other than flesh, and against this backdrop, Yeon Tae-soo’s figure gazing at him was backlit.
Crimson sunlight gathered around his black hair. His blue artificial eyes contrasted with that light.
The scene appeared frozen like a painting for a moment, making Yoo Seong-woo hold his breath. Yeon Tae-soo’s not-too-long bangs swayed slowly. That alone indicated the scene before him wasn’t completely still.
Just as he was thinking how Yeon Tae-soo’s artificial eyes resembled blue-tinted stars:
“Have you thought about seriously learning piano?”
So that’s what he wanted to say, staring so intently. Yoo Seong-woo brought the cup back to his lips.
He wanted to say he disliked it, that he didn’t really like playing piano, that he was forced to learn it from birth, but somehow the words wouldn’t come easily.
The functions of playing piano and singing were all installed by his creator, not his own will.
The desire commonly understood as ‘wanting to do something’ wasn’t permitted to him. Learning piano seriously? He had never thought about it.
But there was something more important than that.
“I have no talent.”
“What?”
Yeon Tae-soo laughed in disbelief. Understandable, since his playing would have sounded perfect to ordinary people.
That was the problem. Because he only played exactly as programmed. Unlike humans, he couldn’t add interpretation or intention.
“That’s the biggest nonsense I’ve heard from you yet.”
“…Are you saying I’ve talked nonsense before?”
Yeon Tae-soo shook his head. His expression showed he found it hard to understand.
“If… someday ‘I’ want to play piano, then I’d be willing to study it seriously.”
Not performance, but study. If he could convey his own intentions in the music, and express ‘real’ emotions, not just hormone responses learned through programming. Then he’d like to try real performance. Not just executing functions.
Yeon Tae-soo stood up and faced the transparent entrance. The afternoon, this time when the longest sunlight poured in, suited him strangely well. Was it because he was the master of a golden palace? How odd that the afternoon sun suited someone who always wore dark clothes.
Facing the transparently visible outside, Yeon Tae-soo smiled. A smile that slightly twisted his lips. It was a manufactured expression, yet also the one he wore best. How many people had fallen for that smile? Among those who frequented Eden and offered their bodies to him, some must have fallen for Yeon Tae-soo.
“Sometimes, Mr. Yoo, you feel like you’re in a completely different place.”
He recited as if talking to himself in a small voice.
“Every time I feel you’re distant, I realize. We still have far to go.”
The sunlight shattered as it touched Yeon Tae-soo’s white face. As he slowly turned his head, his blue artificial eyes, looking paler and colder than usual, captured Yoo Seong-woo.
“You still don’t trust me.”
His smile was twisted as usual but somehow different. As if stained by sunlight.
Yoo Seong-woo felt an ache in one side of his chest. The pain was too vivid to be a malfunction. Like something alive would feel.
***
Yeon Tae-soo seemed to believe the story that Popo was sent for repairs. For one day, Yoo Seong-woo ran the hospital without Popo.
Following Yoo Seong-woo’s order to return safely without being noticed by people, Popo was slowly making its way back at reduced speed. Since they had a few days left anyway…
Just as he was thinking that, Yoo Seong-woo froze at the message that appeared in a corner of his vision.
Sensory System Abnormality – Blocking Warning: D-1
A chill ran down his neck.
This couldn’t be right. Hadn’t it shown four days remaining just moments ago?
‘Why… did the number suddenly decrease?’
Worried there might be a problem with his date recognition function, he quickly checked the calendar, but there was no error in the date calculation.
Then there was only one reason.
‘Something accelerated the blocking.’
Whatever the factor was, it was a significant change to compress several days into one. And the biggest problem was not knowing how much faster it might progress.
Yoo Seong-woo looked around. Fortunately, Yeon Tae-soo had just gone up to Eden for business. After pressing the remote to change the hospital sign to “Out,” he went into the room.
“Popo, something’s come up. Can you come a bit faster?”
He asked while enlarging the small screen floating on one side of his visual display. Popo, who had been playing with a stray cat, startled and started running again. Beep beep! The rough sound needed no translation. It meant it would arrive as quickly as possible.
“…I’m sorry.”
How did such an android end up discovering it and causing it trouble? It was a model that could be more effective working with normal humans.
Though Popo tilted its head briefly as if not understanding, it increased its speed. Yoo Seong-woo carefully examined the surroundings shown on screen. Fortunately, it wasn’t far.
The problem was not knowing when Yeon Tae-soo would return.
‘Should I go somewhere else?’
But he wasn’t confident about evading the large men standing guard outside. They were assigned by Yeon Tae-soo to protect him, and it made him feel guilty to view them as shackles.
While anxiously waiting for Popo, he heard movement outside the hospital, even though he had changed the sign to “Out.”
“Brother.”
