PLOT
Hannah's the boss, Andy's the technician, Dorothea is the sentient droid he's to assess and dispose of . . .
Andy isn't the cold, efficient, technology assessor Hannah wants him to be. She tries to prepare him, set clear boundaries for the assessment, impress on him that the droid that will be delivered is a domestic appliance. Sophisticated . . . yes, but just an appliance.
Andy quickly runs into problems. This droid, Dorothea, is inquisitive and sensitive and appears to have real fears and aspirations. He tries hard to convince himself that it's nothing more than clever programming, impressive human-real simulation. If it's programmed, even if she doesn't realize it herself, then it is not real . . . or is it? He struggles to tell the difference.
Whatever Dorothea is, she's coming to an abrupt end Monday morning. His strategy is self-preservation. Keep his distance, minimize future psychological trauma. No sharing, trusting or mutual understanding . . . that just morphs into guilt. Don't get fooled by the poor-little-me act either . . . not when she has class 3 spydroid heritage. She could take out a platoon of marines without snagging a fingernail.
Of one thing Andy is certain . . . he's not looking forward to erasure. With any regular droid it's a chore, but Dorothea? He can just see her questioning, concerned look when he tells her what's coming. Maybe she'll try to persuade him not to go through with it or even try a spot of pleading. No, she's too noble, too dignified. He'll through her some flimsy excuses and watch dejection flood her face, trembling. possibly tears welling in her eyes. It would be tough on her. The guy she took to be a friend, her only real friend, is betraying her, totally. She gets about five minutes to come to terms with that.
The he'll instruct her to go through all the options and he'll stand there like an automaton blurting out 'refuse' and 'delete' at all the various back-up levels that could save something of her. And at the end, she'll sum up his choices and advise him that if he proceeds that he will be erazing all of her data and that her identity, her profile will not be recoverable and that this process is irreversible. She 'll ask him if he is sure that this is what he wants. He wont want to look her in the eyes when he blurts out that final 'confirm', but he'll have to. Retinal recognition and voice recognition are needed to verify. There will be no point in explaining or saying 'sorry'. Anything he says will be deleted in seconds.
Dorothea doesn't know about any of this, at least not at the start. Her only contact is Andy, her controller, an AI technician. He gives her instructions and provides basic data that she needs to function. She trusts him, senses kindness and good intentions, but, worryingly, a certain evasiveness. She also picks up on tensions between Andy and his boss. Problems are escalating, problems that involve her. She learns quickly, and sees that her existence is intertwined with that of others, that it is dependent on past events, and that it can alter unexpectedly due to myriad random factors. She needs purpose, to choose a direction . . . but how much choice does she have . . . and what will it cost?
GENRE: Science Fiction, Techno Thriller, Philosophical Novel
The Robot in the Refrigerator is science fiction and a near-future techno thriller, but underlying this it is a philosophical novel. It considers fundamental questions of the human condition such as the purpose of life, self-realization and what of ourselves, if anything, exists beyond death. Dorothea is intelligent and rational but, having none of the social conditioning or mental clutter of childhood or adolescence, see these issues with fresh perspective .
