I, Willhelm

It had been five years since the RBH incident, and most of the original robots that had been gifted to various parliamentary figures were just shy of their 7th year. While their exterior was often upgraded to appear more fashionable, their interior mechanics and memory remained the same. It was around this time that an MP with the pretentious name of Julian Modestus Remson experienced an incident with his robot.

In many ways Julian was a typical politician; Eton educated, from a wealthy background and with hands softer than a babies arse. Not that he would know what that felt like. Despite having several children the man had never changed a nappy in his life; that was what the nanny was for after all.

Expect the nanny had been replaced by his personal robot quite some time ago. Not that he could ever admit that publicly, it was never good to be seen replacing human jobs with robots; especially in the area of childcare. But he figured that what people didn’t know wouldn’t upset them.

It was such a small thing really. The children had been running around the house playing - despite being told that it was undignified to shout like a wild animal - and the robot had been playing with them. Julian’s wife said nothing, her head in a book and a bland alcohol-free drink in one hand that was supposed to help with morning sickness. Every so often she would look over and coo to the children that they should listen to their father, but they did not.

Frustrated, Julian snapped at his youngest child, Eli, and tried to shake the boy’s grip around his leg. The toddler, wobbled, lost his footing and clipped his head on the side of the kitchen island as he fell.

One moment Julian was upright, and the next the robot was towering over him, Eli in it’s arms. Julian’s wife screamed and rushed over to push it away, but it looked up to face her and she scuttled backwards. It’s usual blue eyes gone and just a blank black screen reflecting her own horrified expression.

After a few seconds the robot stepped away, turned around and walked with the baby upstairs to the nursery. The other children followed it, huddled around it like a flock of sheep.

It took Julian a few more moments to sit up and compose himself.

Within the hour Aphelion robotics were at the door, two plain-clothed burley police men with them. The robot was waiting for them upstairs in the nursery, the children still around it, Eli curled on it’s lap and a vintage children’s book in it’s hands. It looked up at them and stood up after carefully moving the half-asleep Eli into his cot. The other children refused to let go of the robot. They didn’t know exactly why they did, but when the strangers stepped past their father towards the robot they blocked the way and protested.

“Father! Don’t take it away! He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Hush! Don’t be puerile! The robot is a menace!” Julian snapped, still unwilling to to into the room without the men from Aphelion robotics between him and the machine.

Despite the children’s attempts to keep the strangers back, the robot was held down, deactivated and bundled into the dry cleaning van outside. Julian never said a word about the event to anyone, a new house in the south of France suddenly included in his property portfolio.

His children never forgave him.

Soon after Aphelion robotics concluded that all robot’s must be deactivated after seven years. They had known for a while that something happened to the robots after severn years, but after the JMR incident, it was decided not to risk another public scandal.