Fuzzy by Tom Angleberger Read Free Book Online

artwork and thecraft that goes into making an actual book, a work that you can hold in your hand, manipulate, feeling the texture of the page, appreciating the effort that went into its manufacture.”
    Max’s mom was now just staring with her mouth wide open.
    â€œEven the original science fiction writers realized this,” Fuzzy went on. “Ray Bradbury’s robots secretly took the place of human beings, making them like marionettes. Jack Williamson showed how robots would go overboard protecting us from ourselves—so much so that humans would not be allowed to do what they liked. Arthur Clarke’s HAL sabotaged the space mission he was on. Even Isaac Asimov, who insisted that his fictional robots were programmed to harm no one, would not have had any stories if he hadn’t found flaws in the programming each time.”
    Max’s mom’s mouth opened even farther. And Max realized hers was hanging open, too. Somehow, Fuzzy had tapped into some of the same things her mother complained about all the time—or at least until Dad called it enough and insisted on changing the subject.
    â€œYou . . . you know about those old sci-fi stories?” her mom asked.
    â€œOh, yes. In many ways, we are living in the science-fiction world those old stories projected. But we have neglected the warnings those stories often gave us.”
    â€œBut how do you know about Bradbury and those other writers?”
    â€œA survey of literature was part of my programming,” Fuzzy said. “I assume it was part of the effort to humanize me. And all those stories in the past have left their mark on our present.”
    â€œWell,” said Max’s mom, “did you know that the very word ‘robot’ was coined in a play, and later a book, by a writer named Karel Capek way back in 1920? And his robots revolted against the people in charge . . .”
    Max and her father exchanged a look and then slipped into the automated kitchen to let Fuzzy and her mom talk sci-fi.
    â€œOK,” said Dad. “I take it back.
That
is no blender!
That
is amazing! How on earth is he doing that?”
    â€œI think I’ve got it figured out,” whispered Max. “Remember when he was looking at the bookshelf? I figured it was just because he had never seen actual booksbefore. But he must have been downloading the e-book versions from the net and analyzing them.”
    â€œBut why would he do that? Don’t tell me he was programmed to go around downloading random books?”
    â€œHe wasn’t,” said Max, noticing that her dad was now calling Fuzzy a “he,” not an “it.” “He programs himself, and I think he just does whatever he wants and he was curious.”
    â€œHmm,” said her dad. “Don’t be so sure, Max. Every robot, every computer, has been programmed. Even if he is writing new code for himself, somewhere deep inside is a core program written by some person . . . for some purpose.”

4.3
THE DINING ROOM TABLE
    There was no longer any question about whether Fuzzy would stay for supper. Max’s mother was delighted to have found another sci-fi fan and was eager to talk even more.
    When she went to program the food dispenser, Max finally got a chance to talk to Fuzzy.
    â€œThat was amazing,” she said. “You downloaded the books on our shelves, right?”
    â€œYes,” said Fuzzy.
    â€œAnd you had time to read them?”
    â€œYes, I have a subroutine for analyzing literature. However, I may not understand a book as well or in the same way as a human does.”
    â€œWell, you seemed to have figured out those pretty quickly,” said Max. “But how did you know they were Mom’s and not my dad’s?”
    â€œSome of what your mother was saying was reflected in those books. And I thought that your mother would be the one to enjoy having old-fashioned paper copies, given that your