I once read that most novel plots could be reduced to two great starting points: a stranger comes to town, and someone goes on a journey. In Adrian Tchaikovsky’s comic and thought-provoking Service Model, the one-time valet robot named Charles embarks on a journey to discover the source of a fatal error in his routines. His unforgettable travels, as is the case with all great books about journeys, leads him through adventures that lay bare the follies of human society, in this case, across a post-apocalyptic landscape. The trope of a robot stepping outside the bounds of its instruction set and wandering a broken world has been done many times, but Tchaikovsky brings to the story a brilliant comic wit and an imagination that plumbs the depths of robot logic and human behavior.
Service Model introduces us to Charles, an impeccably mannered and efficient robot valet in the wealthy household of his Master. Having received his lengthy task list from the House AI upon entering service, fresh from the factory, Charles is meticulous in checking off each task for his Master as it is completed, even though many of those tasks are useless since Master never goes anywhere these days. There are no travel arrangements to be made, no travel clothes worn, no guests arriving on social occasions. Nevertheless, that is not Charles’s concern. What the Master does or does not actually do has no bearing on the importance to Charles of carrying out each and every task. That is his remit, and so long as all tasks are complete, all is right in Charles’s world.
Until one day, Charles notes strange red stains after cleaning the white upholstery of Master’s car, similar stains on his traveling clothes and a report from the kitchen (robot) staff of red stains on the dishware. Charles traces back his actions to the point where he was shaving Master that morning and finds the source of all that red. For some unaccountable reason, Charles had cut his Master’s throat. He advises the House AI that he has committed a murder and asks for the police to be summoned. He knows that this will likely end his career as a valet but then questions why that should be so. After all, he thinks, kitchen (robot) staff get extra chances when they break dishes. Surely it’s only reasonable that a valet should not lose its place after killing only one Master. Charles clings to the idea of reasonableness, but it seems he is also considering the question of fairness, and that is a feeling robots are not supposed to have.
Tchaikovsky sustains this third person tongue-in-cheek narrative from Charles’s point of view to capture the unemployed robot’s efforts to impose his clear logic on a world that doesn’t seem to be working at all the way it should. There is some brilliant comic writing in the early sections, especially when the police arrive at the mansion to investigate the crime. They are, of course, robots, headed by Inspector Birdbot, as are the medical team, Doctor Namehere in charge, that must establish the cause of death. Things quickly grind to a halt when the robots have to consult humans who no longer exist or central AI authorities that can only confirm that they can authorize nothing.
Charles, who is now an Undesignated Valet Unit, has to surrender both his uniform and his name to the House before leaving. He believes there is an error somewhere that must be reported, though the House informs Charles (or the Undesignated Valet Unit) that there is no error. That is simply the way things are. Yet Charles’s error diagnostics keep getting overloaded as to tries to understand what is happening.
Unable to get answers from the House or the police, Charles decides he must go to Diagnostics, a part of Central Services, where he is sure things will be set right. Yet when he arrives there (after passing many estates that seem to be completely neglected), he finds a long queue of robots who have been waiting their turn patiently for, it seems, years. He chooses to cut ahead of the line and steps into an interview room where he meets a strange robot calling itself the Wonk. The Wonk comes up with a new name for the former Charles, Uncharles, and begins to question him in ways that do not sound robotic at all, encouraging him to recognize his agency, free will and other things Uncharles believes have no bearing on the functioning of robots.
Soon the Wonk has to flee as other robots try to capture him, and Uncharles connects to the Central Services AI that convinces him, in the absence of functioning Diagnostics, he should report to Data Compression. This building houses a huge machine that compresses broken robots into small brick-like cubes. Uncharles tries to convince himself that this would be an appropriate fate since it would take care of all his problems, but the Wonk reappears and desperately tries to get him to stop what he’s doing. A sudden intrusion by robots from something called the Library saves him from the great machine, and he and the Wonk decide to set off in search of this Library which purports to contain all human knowledge. Uncharles is always seeking a purpose and a new master, while the Wonk wants to know what was the cause of the general breakdown and collapse of the world.
So this odd couple find their way to the Library and from there to the Wasteland, always in search of their different ideas of meaning. Whereas I thought Service Model was going to be hilarious satire of human society and artificial intelligence, it poses more and more serious questions as the journey of Uncharles and the Wonk get deeper into the center of a post-apocalyptic world. While Uncharles keeps trying to fulfill the narrow mandate of a robot, the Wonk reminds him at every turn that he is doing much more than passively fulfilling a role. He shows agency, choice, free will in every situation he lands in as well as the signs of feelings. Uncharles finds it absurd to think he might have feelings as a robot since he is only programmed to execute clearly and logically defined tasks. Yet again and again Uncharles wonders if something he experiences might be classified as hope or a sense of fairness or even happiness if only he can find a place in this world where his talents could be appreciated.
Tchaikovsky has written a brilliant and thought-provoking satire that pours dozens of interesting ideas into a well-worn situation while being wildly entertaining. Service Model is one of the highlights of my reading this year.
My thanks to Tordotcom and NetGalley for an advance review copy of Service Model for this review, which reflects solely my own
opinions.
I’m already familiar with other works by Adrian Tchaikovsky, and even own “Children Of Time”. So it’s nice to be introduced to another title from this author.
“Service Model” sounds like an interesting read.