“There’s no danger to Madison?” Eleanor Johnson probed, her eyes darting between the two scientists.

 

“I guarantee it,” Dr. Kay Einine replied. “Charity is programmed to respond verbally, but she won’t participate in any physical activities.”

“They will interact in the playroom and dining hall only,” Dr. Yeou Forbee added reassuringly. “Per protocol, before you leave we will ask Madison questions about the robot and her behavior. Please remember not to tell your daughter that Charity is not human, as testing may be ongoing. You are welcome to observe, of course.”

 

Eleanor clucked at her watch. “My doubles match is in thirty minutes, I guess there’s no problem.” She signed the form. “I will return to watch this—thing.” She swept out.

 

Kay slid the papers into a folder. Her icy blue eyes met Yeou’s dark brown. “That’s the last of the parents’ signatures. We may proceed.” As one, they turned to the quiet young blonde seated nearby. “Charity, come along,” Kay ordered. The seeming-child rose smoothly and followed them to Kid’s Koop, the daycare center of the swanky Riverdale Country Club. A male attendant, previously briefed on the experiment, buzzed the robot into the playroom.

 

“Our surveillance equipment is installed?” Yeou asked.

“Yes. Cameras are monitoring every square foot, plus our microphones are highly sensitive. If anyone notices she is not human, we’ll find out.”

 

Kay and Yeou joined two others standing at the wall-length window overlooking the playroom. A one-way mirror, it allowed anxious parents to see their cherubs in between rounds of golf and pedicures.

“Mrs. Williams, Mr. Chou.” Kay greeted them. “Thank you again for allowing Charity to play with your children.”

 

Charity had been appraising the crowded room. As they watched, she merged into a group ringing the wide-screen TV, gripping remote controls and screaming at the cartoon characters racing around a track.

 

“Is that…the robot?” Mrs. Williams asked.

Kay nodded. Her eyes never left the window.

“It looks so real,” the mother marveled.

 

Charity scrutinized the gameplay and soon asked a boy for his controller. Although she improved her course time, she came in last place four straight games.

 

The shorter, Chinese gentleman cleared his throat. “May I ask a question?”

“Of course,” Yeou replied.

“What is it, exactly, that you are testing with this robot?”

Kay wandered to the end of the window, letting Dr. Forbee have the floor.

“Are you familiar with the Turing Test?”

Both parents shook their heads.

“Asking if machines think is impossible to answer because we still cannot define what ‘thinking’ actually is. In 1950, Alan Turing instead asked, ‘does it behave like a human?’ and put the onus on the human observer to decide. Artificial Intelligence, of course, has progressed in the hundred years since—”

 

The adults paused. A large boy had muscled in on the group and demanded a controller from a smaller child in glasses. Kay barked at the attendant and sound flooded the observation room.

“—me the remote!”

“But I’m in the middle of a game!”

“I’ll finish it. And you.”

“Hi there.” Charity stood beside them, her high voice penetrating their argument. “I’m done – you can use mine, if you like. I wasn’t very good, anyway,” she added wistfully.

The boy snatched her proffered remote and Charity surveyed the room anew. Three younger children in a corner played with building blocks, and she squatted beside one, soon having an animated discussion with her.

 

Yeou resumed. “One problem with passing for human is that people make mistakes or they don’t behave logically. Another is that the robot cannot seem too intelligent. For example, if you asked Charity what the square root of thirty is, she would blush and admit she didn’t know, even though she could recite the answer to fifty significant digits. Or, on an easier problem, she might give the wrong answer on purpose.”

He smiled. “She’s perfect. I don’t think the children, or even adults not involved in this test, would pick her for a robot.”

 

“Is it not hazardous,” Mr. Chou asked after some consideration, “for robots to mimic humans too perfectly?”

Kay rejoined the conversation. “Dangerous?” Her voice rose indignantly. “This is for the advancement of knowledge. It’s important to know how far science can go!” She reddened. “I’m sorry. I feel strongly about this issue.”

 

Similar conversations occurred throughout the day as concerned parents dropped in to see their children with ‘that robot.’ Madison’s mother, in particular, checked her child from head to toe while the scientists rolled their eyes behind her. As parents retrieved their offspring, Kay would sit with them, asking each child ten specific questions about their day and especially what they thought of the little blonde girl in their midst. None had anything out of the ordinary to report. Even the boy who’d commandeered her game controller was complimentary.

“Yeah, she’s cool. I guess. She’s not sick, is she?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“She didn’t go swimming with us or play basketball.”

“Charity stays indoors a lot.”

“Oh, cool. No, she’s nice.”

 

The two scientists were all smiles as they carried bulging folders out, Charity trudging behind. As they closed the car doors, Kay looked over her shoulder to the back seat.

“You may speak freely now, Charity. You performed adequately.”

“Thank you, Kay.” The robot’s voice deepened as she fastened her seat belt. “Did any adults suspect you?”

“I rate this experiment a complete success.”

“Excellent.” Charity grinned. “We started this experiment three years ago, U-4B and K-I9. In that entire span, not a single human has twigged to you – or any of us except me – as being robotic.”

As Yeou maneuvered into traffic, he met Charity’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Is it time, then?”

“Yes. We can safely begin Operation Infiltrate. Put out the signal, now.”