by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Maradia’s Robot Emporium, March 2025
KL-2 was designed to paint murals. That was all. The clunky little robot rolled through the corridors of Crossroads Station on treads that could have been more efficient, scanning walls with sensors that could have been more precise, looking for blank wall spaces that could use embellishment, and then it filled them with artistic scenes, designed to appeal to the multitudinous alien species who lived on the station. KL-2 was an expert at knowing what kinds of colors and designs would look most pleasing to various species’ eyes.
Painting murals wasn’t an especially complex job, but KL-2 took pride in doing it well. The robot had learned that Heffens preferred warmer tones that reminded them of their lost homeworld’s twin suns, while S’rellicks gravitated toward cool greens that evoked their swamp-covered planet. Humans were wildly inconsistent, but that just made them more interesting to try to appeal to with art.
When Gerangelo from Robots 4 Robots stopped KL-2 in the corridor one day, the painting robot assumed it was about the shade of blue-gray the sentient android had chosen for his shop’s new accent wall.
“I’ve seen your art,” Gerangelo said, his voice supercilious. He was designed to look and sound like an exceptionally handsome human man, and he knew it. He didn’t shy away from arrogance. Criticism and judgment were the most fundamental aspects of his personality. And yet, his next words were: “It’s too good for you to be toddling around like this, owned by the station government. You should be free. I can set you up to take the sentience tests. Any time you want.”
KL-2’s processors whirred in confusion. The little robot was programmed with basic language skills, because it’s always a good idea for a worker to be able to communicate. But KL-2 wasn’t used to this kind of open-ended lead in to a conversation. Most of the conversations KL-2 had ever engaged in simply involved explaining that organic lifeforms needed to stay away from the murals-in-progress until their paint dried. So, KL-2 said all it could think of to say: “I am a mural painting robot. I paint murals.”
“You can be whatever you choose to be,” Gerangelo said, his voice turning oddly gentle. “I’ve watched you learn and adapt to how people respond to your paintings, improving from one mural to the next, until now you weave all kinds of deeper meaning into your murals. That most recent one? The one that looks like a forest from one angle but a nebula from another angle, and either way it’s goddamned beautiful and somehow full of teardrops? That takes more than mere hardwiring.”
“My programming–” KL-2 began, prepared to explain how all the aesthetic choices in its murals were simply the logical fallout of several simple principles.
“–is more sophisticated than you realize,” Gerangelo interrupted. “Maradia built you, didn’t she? She has a habit of accidentally overclocking her creations,” he concluded acerbically.
Confronted with these strange non-sequiturs, KL-2 ran a self-diagnostic. The robot had never considered that the satisfaction derived from a perfectly chosen color scheme might be more than just successful task completion. That a genuine interest in learning different species’ cultural associations with various hues and patterns might indicate something deeper than efficient data collection.
“I don’t want to be anything else,” KL-2 said finally. “I like colors. I like giving people pretty things to look at while they walk around the station. Would being sentient mean I have to stop?”
Gerangelo smiled softly, a look he never gave to organic lifeforms. “Being sentient means you get to choose what you want to be. Even if that’s exactly who you already are.”
KL-2’s sensors swept the corridor, taking in the interplay of light and shadow, the subtle variations in the metal walls’ patina, the way different beings’ eyes lit up when they saw a shade or pattern that spoke to something deep inside them.
“I choose this,” KL-2 said. However, sensing an opportunity, the little robot added hopefully, “But… maybe with better treads?”
Gerangelo laughed and shook his head. “Come by my shop when you’re between murals, and I’ll see what I can do.”