We step off the elevator; I bump into a mail robot. A random envelope falls from its top tray, a symptom of overload, a sign of another drastic increase in productivity. With mechanical indifference, the robot keeps going. It doesn’t resemble a human. Instead, it’s a large, box-shaped cart with a designated shelf for each department it services. On wheels, it’s more graceful than a walking robot; it carries as much mail as fifteen competent mail humans combined. Robot’s sensors track a transparent, invisible map sprayed on carpets and marble floors, indicating its route and the stops it needs to make Its high-pitched beeps warn hallway pedestrians to move aside. If they don’t, it stops, beeping impatiently, until they step out of its invisible path.
Academy Myth, Anecdote, or Reliable Account: A facilities crew working after hours took the time to spray an invisible line into the women’s restroom. The first robot to make its trip in the morning successfully took the detour, but couldn’t make its way back to the hall. . .