History Written by a Winner

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Towering displays of translucent material expanded and hovered all around the marble-and-gold decorated space, showcasing artifacts from centuries past and guides detailing sections of the museum. One moment, a slideshow materialized to depict a model of the world’s first automobile from the nineteenth century before it dissolved into digital particles, reforming into a 3D hologram of the first flying vehicle invented a century later.

Without warning, the 3D car revved its engine and left its enclosure, playfully flying around the expansive room before phasing right through the new visitors as a welcoming gesture.

The crowd gasped in awe and began to take a plethora of pictures and videos, capturing every angle of the floating gallery while they followed the guide toward the first stop in the tour. Everyone’s focus gradually shifted toward one sole artifact slumbering inside a glass enclosure: a small, bronze figurine, its surfaces rusted with age.

“As you may already know,” said Celia, “today is November 3, 2054, marking exactly one hundred years after the creation of the world’s first artificial intelligence in the form of a cute little robot, Cogsworth! Can anyone remember who invented it?”

An enthusiastic college student raised her hand. “It was Doctor Orson Flint,” she said.

“Correct!” Celia pulled out a remote and pressed it, opening up tabs of holographic screens and showcasing archived, black-and-white photos of the engineer smiling and waving with his robot in his arms. “During the Cold War, an arms race ensued from the late 1940s to the early 1990s. The United States and the Soviet Union raced to develop and stockpile nuclear weapons, and with all that destructive power at their disposal, people grew paranoid that they would witness the end of the world.”

Celia pressed the remote and switched the screens to display old videos of the little robot walking in the streets.

“However, during that time of anxiety, a scientist named Doctor Orson Flint made a groundbreaking innovation and created the first, family-friendly robot named Cogsworth in 1954. Unlike the android citizens of today, this little guy was only made of bronze and copper, and its thought process was no more complex than a human toddler. And yet, it's because of this very innocent mind that it provided people comfort—a distraction, you might say—to raise people’s morale during the brink of a world-ending war. It was thanks to this accomplishment that convinced other engineers to do the same.”

The guide continued her walk, and the group followed closely behind. They continued to take pictures of salvaged objects, ranging from inventions from the eighteenth century to the earliest versions of computers, television, and more.

Eventually, they stopped before a wide curtain. Celia turned to face the crowd and said, “Following the end of the Cold War, technology made its leap with the advent of computers, leading to the development of the Internet and eventually digital AI assistants.”

The guide pressed her remote, and the displays around them started shifting.

“The first generation of robots all have bulky, geometric forms, but it was only during the 2000s that the rise of the Internet allowed computer scientists worldwide to gather together and compete in making innovations. As a result, it didn't take long before the world witnessed the first wave of modern androids, AIs bestowed with humanoid bodies. Like their digital counterparts, they continue to serve as our helpful assistants but now in a physical form! Our museum was blessed to own some of these old androids after their creators passed away, and we've made sure to take extra care of them so you can meet them all today! Come say hi!”

The curtain drew back on perfect cue and revealed a row of antique androids. They all strode toward the crowd, smiling and shaking hands. The tour guide began listing the androids’ names, origins, and birth years, ranging from the early 1980s to the late 2020s.

The younger side of the audience eagerly took pictures of themselves next to the androids and had fun, but one older man, wearing a beige trench coat, a gray turtleneck, and black pants, with green eyes and silver hair, kept his attention on the guide. He raised his hand and gruffly said, “This is a neat presentation and all, but all this information has been ingrained into our brains since middle school. I didn’t sign up to hear about what we already know, so let me ask you some questions: How did Doctor Orson Flint manage to make Cogsworth? How did digital AI assistants receive humanoid bodies so quickly when people have been protesting against it for decades due to all sorts of issues like intellectual property and privacy concerns?”

Celia blinked. She froze and briefly pondered before uttering, “Well, that’s… erm…” She scratched her head and furrowed her brows. “I… don't know...?”

The visitors traded confused glances while the man squinted in suspicion.

Out of nowhere, the guide grimaced and clutched her head, losing her footing.

“Woah! Ma’am, are you okay?” a worried visitor asked.

“Ah, sorry, dear. Yes, I’m okay, haha. I'm just a little tired.” She waved a hand, signaling a drone with a water bottle to float toward her. She grabbed the bottle and took a few sips.

“Do you need a break?” asked another guest.

She shook her head and returned the bottle to the drone. “No, no, I’m fine now! Let’s continue our tour! I promise you’ll learn plenty of interesting things schools won’t bother covering! Especially during the late twentieth century, when memes started to take over the media…”

Celia continued her walk and switched topics to social media history, leading the group toward the next section of the tour.

At the same time, a strange, creaking noise crept around the ceiling, prompting one of the visitors to look up. “Did you guys hear that?” he asked.

“Hm?” His friend glanced in his direction. “Hear what?”

“Uh, I heard some weird thumping noises.”

“Hmm, maybe it’s just the A.C. acting funny?”

“Huh, maybe.”

The friends shrugged and moved on.

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I couldn’t help but pause while crawling through the air ventilation to observe the tour guide through my hologram footage. Right after my gag device put on a little show, I discreetly attached a camera to one of the distracted guests to watch the tour while I was on the move.

I, in fact, slipped the camera on the guy I most suspected to be my target: a tall, old bystander who happened to match their body measurements the most. The way he acted minutes ago prompted me to freeze and raise a brow.

Could it be this guy after all? What if this guy wasn’t after something… but someone? Was it that tour guide? She did act strange for a moment after he asked that question. Could I be overthinking things?

I could easily break out of the vents, take out this old geezer, and finish the job here and now, but if he turned out to be the wrong guy, I’d most certainly alert the real target and make the job harder. It’d be times like this when I seriously wished the Director could’ve trusted me with more information on whatever the hell this guy was after. What a headache.

Forget it. As long as he keeps the camera, then at least I’ll know where he’ll be at all times, I concluded, scratching my head. In the meantime, I might as well continue investigating this place.

I continued crawling through the vents with this thought, frequently checking up on the tour and listening to all that rambling every so often. I eventually found my way out and landed in a dim, spacious hallway. 

While I dusted my clothes, I ended up staring dead in the eye of a baffled security officer sitting alone on a bench, frozen in the middle of eating potato chips and gawking at me like he’d seen a ghost.