“Have you determined the source of the problem?”
The engineer looked up and sighed, her eyebrows drawn together in weary consternation. “Yes,” she said, irritation marring the practiced calmness of her voice. “I believe I have.”
The Chief of Police waited for her to elaborate. He hated working with these nerd types, who knew nothing of policing but somehow expected him to understand whatever the hell a positron was. They were always so damn condescending about it, too.
The engineer did not volunteer an explanation. Damn her, he thought, and took the opportunity to yawn disinterestedly and check his phone. She wasn’t going to make him work for an answer she was being paid to supply. “Well? Fix it, then.”
“It’s not the sort of problem I deal with,” she said.
The Chief raised his eyebrow. “I thought you were supposed to be good with computers,” he muttered, aiming for her pride.
“I am a doctor of cybernetics,” she snapped. Right on target. “And there’s nothing wrong with your robot’s brain. Lie detection is an imperfect and unreliable science because human physiology is unpredictable. It doesn’t matter how advanced the software is; a positronic polygraph is only as good as the data it receives.”
“We’ve been using polygraphs for decades, miss. I’ve never had a complaint until now. If you think you know my work better than I do, be my guest! I’ll put in a good word for you at the academy and we’ll see if you have the mettle to even make it to detective. Or,” he added lightly, glancing at the faint outline of wires under her sleeve, “Maybe not.”
Her fist clenched. “You misunderstand me, sir. I have no interest in police work. The problems you have noticed are not on my end - that is, not a flaw or bias in North Central’s design. The physiological responses it measures are accurate.”
The Chief threw up his arms. “Then what the hell is the problem, O Enlightened One?”
The engineer leveled her gaze. God, he hated her. “It has been reading false positives even in control tests, yes?”
“Unless there’s a lot of weird shit we don’t know about our own officers, yeah.”
“And,” she said slowly, “Would I be correct in my assumption that the majority of officers employed in your district are heterosexual males?”
“We are an equal opportunity empl—“
“Not what I asked.”
“Yes.” The Chief said stiffly. “I believe so. It’s not something I keep track of.”
The engineer nodded. “And the women? There are women, yes?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Sure. If this is some kind of feminist—“
She held up a hand, cutting him off a second time. “And are they heterosexual women?”
“I don’t know!” He blustered. “Maybe? I don’t know every single person who—“
“I would not expect you to.” The engineer smiled, but there was a trace of sneer to it. “I understand that the original housing for the lie detector bot was replaced with a third-party model for ‘aesthetic purposes’, correct?”
“Yes. The original face was… boring. People complained that it looked behind the times.”
“North Central Positronics produces robots for many specialized purposes,” said the engineer. “We have always embraced the belief that form should follow function. I personally disapprove of the use of polygraphs in the first place, but our lie detection models are carefully designed with unremarkable features to minimize respondent bias - the very reason they have replaced human-operated polygraph tests.”
“Get to the point.”
The engineer smiled and spread her hands. “Lie detectors do not detect lies,” she said. “They detect abnormal autonomic responses. Elevated heart rate, perspiration, and skin conductivity. Ours also detect pupil dilation, abnormal speech patterns, and changes in body language. In theory, these signs indicate a state of emotional arousal - such as anxiety about being caught in a lie. But there are an infinite number of other reasons one might exhibit those responses.” She paused, watching the Chief of Police carefully, before continuing with a small smirk. “Arousal, for one.”
“As in…”
“Yes.” She smiled condescendingly. “In the future, I would think twice about adding exaggerated secondary sexual characteristics to a robot,” she said, her tone hard with anger. “It is not necessary.”
“You’re telling me the lie detector robot is too sexy to take accurate readings?” the Chief spluttered.
The engineer stood up, shrugging on her coat and heading towards the door. “I don’t know,” she said with mock sweetness. “Do I look like a detective?”
“hey Ship what’s that you’re writing during your lunch break?”
“do you ever sit down and wonder why Isaac Asimov never wrote about robo-tiddies?”
“no. I use my brain for constructive purposes.”
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