The Amelia Project - Episode 40 - Hiroshi

Episode Date: July 4, 2021

“Tell me about the Robot Raves!” Episode 40, Season 3. With Alan Burgon and Eli Hamada McIlveen. Written by Philip Thorne. Directed by Philip Thorne and Oystein Brager. Music and sound design by Fredrik Baden. Graphic design by Anders Pedersen. Production assistance by Maty Parzival. For full credits see our website. The Amelia Project is an audio fiction series. We recommend starting at the beginning. Congratulations. You’ve reached the content warning. The Amelia Project is about death, mishaps, mayhem and misfortune. And cocoa. If you’re not comfortable with this, stop listening. Now. The Amelia Project is part of the Fable & Folly Network. Find and support our sponsors at: fableandfolly.com/partners Website: ameliapodcast.com Transcripts: ameliapodcast.com/transcripts Twitter: @amelia_podcast Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ameliapodcast Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Summer's here, and you can now get almost anything you need delivered with Uber Eats. What do we mean by almost? You can't get a well-groomed lawn delivered, but you can get chicken parmesan delivered. Sunshine? No. Some wine? Yes. Get almost, almost anything delivered with Uber Eats. Order now. Alcohol in select markets. See app for details. Hello everyone, Pip here introducing you to a new episode of the Amelia Project. But first of all, I wanted to say thank you. Thank you to all of you who are listening, to all of you who have spread the word and maybe told a friend about the show, and of course an extra special thank you if you're supporting us on Patreon. As a lot of you know,

my dream is to be able to make this show full-time at some point, and thanks to our patrons, we are heading in the right direction. In fact, I've just been to tell the boss of my dull day job that as from September, I will be going part-time, which means that I can dedicate two full days a week to death fakery. This is quite a big step, which I'm really excited and also a little bit scared about. So if you want to make it a bit less scary and if you want to support all the artists and actors and engineers who work on this show, we'd be super grateful. Head over to AmeliaPodcast.com and click on support the show. We're so happy for every new patron, no matter the size of your pledge. Speaking of support, we'd like to dedicate this new episode

to our super patron, Mince and Such. Today we catch up with the interviewer at Gollivin Prison, and when we last left him, he just managed to get hold of the key to another cell, the cell belonging to Hiroshi, a robotics engineer. Enjoy the episode. Fourth door on the right. Fourth door on the right Fourth door on the right Hello? Hello? Hello?

Hello? Hiroshi? Hiroshi? Hiroshi, it's Fedor Sudakov. I need to talk to you. Urgently. Hiroshi? Yes, sir? I've been sent by Mikhail. Oh. How are you getting on with the ballerina?

I've replaced the sensors, the pressure pads, pickup coils, the contact switches I recalibrated the encoder and the accelerometer Strengthened the clamps, oiled the axles, joints, and the end effectors I exchanged every single shaft screw I tweaked the CPU and overhauled the entire actuator system. So, she will be ready to appear at the Bolshoi in... two hours? Well?

No. No, but please don't put me in the basement. Please, I'll have her dancing again in a few weeks. I just need to order a new magnetometer from Japan and reconfigure the oscillator circuit and find a way to reduce mechanical stress. It'll take two weeks. I can do it in two weeks.

Oh, Hiroshi, relax. What? I haven't been sent by Mikhail. You haven't? Then who are you? What are you doing here? What do you want? I want... Yes? Your story. The Amelia Project The Emilia Project

Created by Philip Thorne and Ostein Braga With music and sound direction by Frederick Barden Episode 40 Hiroshi There's no time for a story! I'm trying to get Ivana ready! Ivana? The ballerina. But the premiere's in two hours. I thought it's impossible to get her ready by then.

Better to try than to waste my time telling stories. Listen, Hiroshi. Stories are never a waste of time. And anyway, I'm your route out of here. What? I can get you out of Golovine. Nobody escapes Gololovin. My previous clients have been very satisfied. Previous clients?

Alexei Popov, Maria and Daria, Clara Knopf, Oleg. Oleg? Like, da, nyet, da, that Oleg? There's more to him than first meets the ear. You really want to help me? Yes, but I need to get to know you first. And what's in it for you? We'll get to that.

All right. Um, what do you want to know? First off, tell me, What's this delightful music? They didn't give me a record player in my cell. A record player? Oh, a CD. Pity. I prefer vinyl.

Not a CD either. Come and meet Albert. They gave you a pianist? Don't be silly. I've built one. Oh, well, prick me like a cactus, a robotic pianist. Albert can do classical, jazz and liturgical, but he's especially fond of show tunes. liturgical, but he's especially fond of show tunes. Well, this is most impressive. I mean, when did you build Albert?

Albert's a prototype. His younger brother Sergei is a much more serious musician. He specializes in Shostakovich. And where is Sergei? On loan to the Vienna Symphony. You built Albert and Sergei here in Golovin? My initial job was to create the world's first robotic classical pianist. They were so impressed with Sergei that they put me straight back to work, this time on a robot conductor for the Moscow Philharmonic.

You succeeded? Czeslaw Dubinsky has just returned from a successful tour of China. His interpretation of Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring was the talk of the Beijing Music Festival. I'll never forget the standing ovations. Wait, wait, wait. You went to China, too? Yeah, I always travel with my robots. Really? They let you out of Golovkin for that? Yeah, I'm the only person who can calibrate Cheslav's motion controller and program Sergei's ROS. Anyway, as long as I deliver, the Russians keep me on a long leash. When Cheslav conducted Madame Butterfly at the Mariinsky, I watched every performance.

Well, it must be nice to get out of Golovkin from time to time. I also accompanied Sergei to the Royal Academy of Music in London when he won his Bach Prize. the Royal Academy of Music in London when he won his Bach Prize. Who would have thought that the robot rave teen from Tokyo would go on to take the world of classical music by storm? Although, you know, maybe it's not that surprising. My mom played viola for the Calgary Philharmonic Orchestra. Robot raves? Yeah. I think you'd better tell me your story from the beginning.

You've always been into robots? Yeah. I think you'd better tell me your story from the beginning. You've always been into robots? Yeah, yeah. My dad's to blame for that. He gave me a Meccano set when I was four, and I've been a machinophile ever since. My dad and I spent the weekends building steam trains and forklift trucks and race cars. We even built a six-meter motorized crane once Controlled by a 12 volt model railway controller Nice Yeah

When I was 12 I helped my dad restore a 1971 Mazda Cosmo I just fell in love with the long hood And the covered headlights It's so cool Your dad was a mechanic? No He was a literary professor at the University of Tokyo.

But he was happiest at weekends in overalls, you know, covered in grease, dreaming up remote control monster trucks and moon buggies. He brought these amazing books from the Institute of Oriental Culture, like the Book of Hydraulic Excellencies. It contains plans for mechanical doves and fish, angels and dragons made for Chinese emperors going back as far as the Han Dynasty. Tell me about the robot raves. Yeah, as a teenager, I constructed a robot arm

that could create music by manipulating records on a turntable. A robot DJ? Yeah, I hosted garage raves, and Takeshi became the star of Tokyo's underground disco scene. Takeshi? My robot. Of course. And he consisted of just an arm, you said?

At first, yes. But as the raves became more popular, I gave him a torso, a head with video camera eyes, and legs with hydraulic knees so they could bop to the beat those were great times maybe I could have made a career out of it

why didn't you? I was offered a scholarship at MIT and moved to the US my dad was so proud after graduating I was hired as an engineer by one of the biggest companies in robotics oh congratulations I was in New York City working at the cutting edge of technology,

making more money than I knew what to do with. Living the dream. For about a year, I thought so. Oh, what changed? I realized just how much junk I was producing. Come on, you're calling your robots junk? No, no, of course not. But?

But they were producing and packaging and labeling thousands of useless products every day. I was creating efficient ways of filling the world with junk. And then the junk became all I could think about. And whenever I closed my eyes, I just saw mountains and mountains of junk. But that wasn't the worst of it. No? No. No. My next project worst of it. No? No. My next project

was to create a robotic fighter jet. A fast-moving, sensor-studded aerial drone able to carry 22 missiles. Gosh! And then I remembered Sundays with my dad, just inventing things for the sheer wonder of it.

A perfectly calibrated speedometer or a silent combustion engine. And I remembered the book of hydraulic excellencies and all the amazing mechanical birds and otters and dragons and monks. That's what I wanted to do. Give the world mechanical magic. Not fill it with junk or be part of an economy of murder. So you quit your job? No. No, I stayed.

Oh. And decided to use the technologies at my disposal to make something impractical and beautiful instead. What did you make? The world's first robot performer. What kind of performer? An actor. Really? Yeah. Robots typically struggle with emotion, so what better challenge?

I decided to create a robot who could play Hamlet. Why Hamlet? Doubt thou the stars are fire. Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt I love. Oh, dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers. I have not art to reckon my groans,

but that I love thee best, oh, most best, believe it. Adieu, thine evermore, most dear lady. Whilst this machine is to him, Hamlet. Bravo! You know your Shakespeare! Oh, yes. Albert,

the gravedigger's song, please. A pickaxe and a spade, a spade. Four and a shrouding sheet. Oh, a pit of clay for to be made. For such a guest is meet. Right. Thank you. Now tell me about your Hamlet.

My Hamlet was a masterpiece in robotic sensing. What is robotic sensing? Basically, giving robots the ability to see and touch and hear and move. Robotic sensing requires advanced algorithms that use environmental feedback. You mean your Hamlet could respond to other actors? Yeah. The idea was that I could put him in a production anywhere in the world, and he'd adapt. He'd pick up on whether he was in a classical or avant-garde staging, and which language was being used. I programmed him to be able to perform in 46 different languages.

He'd modulate his voice according to the size of the auditorium, so whether the show was being put on at a village hall, a high school, or a Broadway theater, he'd fit right in. Fit in? You should have seen his fencing moves. How did the rest of the cast feel about performing alongside a robot? It never got that far. After three months of blissful experimentation, my boss got wind of what I was doing. How so?

He came to inspect the automatic missile trajectory mechanism I was supposed to be developing, and Robot Hamlet started quoting What a Piece of Work is Man at him. Oh dear. I assume you got fired. On the spot. They dismantled Hamlet and used his sensors as target seekers. Oh, what a waste. Yeah. But that night, there was a knock at my door. It was one of the company's board members.

This modest-looking man in round glasses and a gray suit. I always had that smell of sweet aftershave about him. He'd heard about my antics and wanted to talk. He ushered me into a taxi and we drove to the vodka room on 8th Avenue. So after drinks and chicken kievs, he asked me about my ideas. Most people would just laugh at me, but this Russian gentleman just listened and nodded. He said he could provide me with a workshop and unlimited funds. It sounded too good to be true. And I woke up the next morning, hungover, wondering if it had all been a dream. And a limousine pulled up, and a chauffeur stepped out, saying he'd been sent to take me to the

airport. And a few hours later, I'm on a private jet to Golovin. The man you met at the vodka bar in New York was Mikhail, I assume? Yes. Hmm. And he wanted you to provide prestigious feats of artistic engineering which he could show off around the world? Yeah. But he omitted to inform you that your new workshop would be in the middle of a high-security prison.

That turned out to be the catch. Still, you said they've been treating you well here, right? The stroganoff takes some getting used to, but apart from that, it's been amazing. I mean, this workshop is a roboticist's dream. And as long as I give Mikhail what he desires, he gives me all the resources I want and lets me accompany my robots on their many tours. It's not a bad life. Or it wasn't. And then Ivana happened.

Tell me about Ivana. Hamlet is a piece of cake in comparison. Hamlet just needs to not bump into other actors or scenery and find the best place to soliloquize. But a ballerina has to do jumps and leaps and pirouettes. bump into other actors or scenery, find the best place to soliloquize. But a ballerina has to do jumps and leaps and pirouettes, and that requires highly sophisticated velocity sensors, not to mention the challenge it poses for her flexibility and equilibrium. I can imagine.

I'm the first engineer to figure out how to get a robot on pointe and make it execute a perfect arabesque, radical new territory. And you managed? I thought so. And then during the grand pas de deux at the dress rehearsal, Ivana lost her balance and crashed into the orchestra pit. Michael is livid. But you said you could fix her in two weeks. Why not just postpone the premiere? It's not just the premiere. On Saturday, we perform at Opera Garnier in Paris. On Tuesday, it's the Royal Opera House. Then New York, San Francisco, and Chicago. We're booked into the most prestigious opera houses in the world. Tickets are sold out, and expectations are super high.

Mikhail still wants the premiere to go ahead. Yes. I need to fix Ivana before the curtains rise tonight. But you said that's impossible. Mikhail doesn't accept impossible. And you know what happens to anyone who doesn't conform to Mikhail's demands, right?

The Golovine basement. This isn't the moment, Albert. Can you really save me? Yes. But, okay, how? This will take some explaining. Are you ready for a story?

You and your stories... It starts in 1962. What? Close your eyes, get comfortable, and let me take you to the Argonaut. The Argonaut. You're not closing your eyes. I'm too tense. That's no good.

How can you immerse yourself in a story if you're tense? How can I relax when I've got two hours before I'm thrown in the basement? Fine, I'll give you the short version. Thanks. I spent three years on a submarine with a Poe called Jan and a Swede called Olaf. You spent three years on a submarine? Why? Thought you wanted

the short version. What better place to lie low than the bottom of the sea? But... Olaf was a tiddlywinks champion, and Jan was a ballet dancer. Right, right, but... Three years is a long time. What are you saying? I'm saying that I learned everything there is to know about tiddlywinks and ballet. I can pot a wink

from a distance of four meters, and my padushah is second to none. You can dance ballet? Well, Jan needed to keep up his training, which meant he needed a partner, And Olaf had two left feet. So you became his partner? I did. I danced all the female parts in Swan Lake, Sleeping Beauty, Giselle, and The Nutcracker. Why are you telling me this? Well, isn't it obvious? Not really, no.

Well, you just have to case me up as Ivana, and I'll do the rest. That's your plan? It allows tonight's premiere at the Bolshoi to go ahead. Without a real robot? Oh, give me a remote control head with LED eyes and nobody will know. You want to imitate a robot? Yes. Is that a problem? It's insulting to robots.

Insulting to robots? And mechanical ingenuity. But the robot itself is imitating a human. It would simply be another layer of imitation. A human imitating a robot imitating a human. I'm not convinced. Fine. Basement it is, then.

No, okay, wait. You really think you can get through an entire performance of Sleeping Beauty? I'll give a performance worthy of a robot. And I won't fall into the orchestra pit. Promise. Sleeping Beauty has very difficult choreography. Well, we've got the next hour to practice. An hour's not enough. You'll make mistakes. Oh, you can blame any imperfections on the previous accident

and say you'll smooth them out for the tour. Come on. They'll be impressed you got smooth them out for the tour. Come on. They'll be impressed you got Ivana up and dancing again so quickly. Well, we might be able to fool them for one show, but a whole tour, they're bound to notice. The first stop is Paris, you said? Yes, up a regalier. Once we're in Paris, we'll make a run.

There's a small place in Montmartre where we can stay for a few weeks to plot our new lives. I've been meaning to go back to Paris. I just didn't think it would be via a Russian prison. You're crazy. Coming from you, that really means something. All right. Come here and put these on. What's that?

Ear protectors. So, we're doing this? Yes. Oh, goody. It's the right decision. Case me up. How do I look? You look good. How do you feel? You look good. How do you feel in there?

Hot. And my left ear is itchy, but I can't scratch. Speaking of ears, can you feel it when I do this? Ouch! What was that? I've attached small clamps to your earlobes with electrodes in them so I can give you mild electric shocks To communicate with you I'll be sitting in the front row and I can guide you if necessary So an extended shock in the right ear means you need to keep to the right and

shock in the left ear means move left sounds logical and If I alternate rapidly between left and right, like this... Stop it, stop it, it tickles. That means we're in danger and you need to run. Right. How much time do we still have? Mikhail's going to be here any minute to check on my progress. Well, let's use the time we have to practice. Albert? And

this croissant en pâte. Wow, okay. Told you. Oh, yes. I'm impressed. Wait until you see my

padoucha. Ready? Yes. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Sorry, Albert. Wait until you see my Padusha. Ready? Yes! Oh my god! Oh my god! Sorry, Albert. Are we another robot down? Albert is robust. He'll be fine. What about you? Continue, Albert. You sure? Just a grazed knee. Nothing to worry about. Let's dance. Let's dance.

A vesque, a sombre, a violette. Stay tuned for the epilogue, but first the credits. This episode was written and edited by Philip Thorne with story editing by Einstein Breger and music and sound design by Frederick Barden. It featured Alan Bergen as the interviewer and Eli Hamada-McElveen as Hiroshi. Graphic design by Anders Pedersen and production assistance by Marty Pertseval.

This show is made possible through listener support thanks to all of our patrons and a shout out to our super patrons This show is made possible through listener support. Thanks to all of our patrons. And a shout out to our super patrons. Sophia Anderson, Kate Sukuyasu, Sophie Leveso, Jem Fiddick, Albina Sant, Travis Curtin, Rushab Shukla, Amelie Harris, Stephanie Weitenhiller, Chloe Lefferman, Elizabeth Curry,

Mince and Such, and Victor Hesselbaum. And hello to our new super patron, Rafael Eduardo Wefas Verastaki. For transcripts, merch, and info on how to support the show, head over to ameliapodcast.com. And now, the epilogue. How was I? I think we got away with it. You know, I quite enjoyed it.

Maybe we should actually do the tour. See the great opera houses. I've always wanted to go to La Finitia. We're not doing this any longer than we have to. Once we're safely out of Russia, we run. Of course, I was just joking. Good. We go to Paris tomorrow. Ah, Paris.

Les Doux Mageau is waiting. The Fable & Folly Network. Where fiction producers flourish. Are you there? I think I'm getting something. Why are you recording? For science. Did you hear that?

We're a little off schedule. Maybe it's the aliens. I'm studying electromagnetic phenomena and anomalies. I don't think losing people is scary. I just don't want to do it anymore. Just together? Radio check. Who's this? I didn't do it!

You never do anything! We should still be secure. Who's this? I didn't do it. You never do anything. We should still be secure. Are you safe? The walkies again. Who are you? Comfort. I am not doing it on purpose. You can't bullshit. I am not doing it on purpose. Stop. Stop. Oh god.

I don't like this. I don't like this. What the hell was that? I'm not supposed to know that. We're supposed to be innocent. I feel an ending coming. Oracle, a sci-fi anthology podcast set in the not-so-distant future. Season 2, Transmission, available in bi-monthly episode releases starting July 1st, 2023. Or listen now to Season 1, Iris, wherever you get your podcasts.