Migmer – The Red Eye Robot.

Bhutan will host its first-ever World Robot Expo in its capital next year, therefore, this year, 2090 is a year of science for all Bhutanese robot scientists. Determined to exhibit their robots during the expo, scientists across the country toil in their labs, creating robots from dawn to dusk, oblivious of flying cars, super-speed hyperloop trains, and sky-kissing buildings around them.
Koenli Ongchu, a young College of Science Technology graduate, who studied B.Tech in Robotics and works at Fab Lab, Bhutan’s synonym of the Royal Society of London, speaks in front of a mirror.
“Every thought I think is creative. Migmer’s future will be bright hereafter.” He combs his disheveled hair in style. Not every time Mr. Koenli gets time for self-care. His life revolves around computers, electrical boards, DC motors, and robot parts and accessories.
Flinging away his lab coat, and putting on the only blue blazer he owns, he is in haste today. He hurries away from his home towards Fab Lab Auditorium.
In the auditorium, the crowd is mesmerizing. The senior scientists, the robot certification team, and most significantly, the mayor have come there.
Mr. Koenli has Migmer by his side. The robot is 5’6’’ in reach and 58 kg in mass. The Bhubese, the country’s finest sci-fi newspaper, once covered Migmer on its front page. This makes Mr. Koenli, a prospective scientist at the event.
All has gone well until the mayor makes the crowd switch on their invisible earbuds.
“I’ve got the name of the scientist whose robots would qualify for the Expo next year. Well, I’m aware that there is only one name in all of your minds, whom you expect to win the nomination. Mr. Koenli, right? But…” He pauses. “It’s Mrs. Elisha who won the prestige.”
Silence.
“Her mini-robot that can dance is simply a gift of innovation. It’d entertain us. In the case of Mr. Koenli, I… somewhat, umm…. feel his work has a touch of hallucination. “
The crowd stoops like a withered flower.
“Is it plausible to create a robot capable of learning human emotions and feelings? Where on earth will superior traits of a human have a place then? Aren’t we in the center of the universe? It is politically an act of inhumane to create such machines. ”
Mr. Koenli disagrees with the mayor’s claim. He wants to discuss how expressive robots will be able to save the lives of millions. Will it not be the wonder of science to have robot doctors who can predict the exact illness of patients by perceiving their groaning facial expressions?
Mr. Koenli really wants to say many things, but knew not how.
The mayor looks at Koenli to say, “There is no motivational speech today, those who want to give up – Give Up.” He teleports away with his force of scientists.

Two months later, the CEO of Fab Lab, Mr. Sarkar, calls Mr. Koenli into his office.
“You’re fired,” the CEO says as they end their conversation.
“It is the board’s decision, Mr. Koenli. They can no longer handle this. You and Migmer have become a subject of national embarrassment after it had been denied the nomination.”
“But, sir, I’m least concerned about the nomination. What excites me is that Migmer has an impressive axis of movement, super advanced than other robots. Text-to-Speech algorithm is almost ready, and once I crack the code and add the algorithm for sensory emotions into it, we’d have the first robot that can speak, understand human emotions and display them. The best is yet to come.” Mr. Koenli shows so much enthusiasm.
“Daydreamer, daydreamer is what you are! Mr. Koenli. Be a practical scientist. Robots can never have emotions like humans. You may take your robot home if you want. I’m sorry, you may leave,” says the CEO abruptly.
“But sir, you cannot fire your employee like this,” Mr. Koenli protests.
Mr. Sakar turns back to say, “Mr. Koenli, have you forgotten who owns the Fab Lab?” He smirks.

Five years later,

BLEEP! BEEP! BLEEP!

Migmer moves around in the lab. Sometimes visible, sometimes invisible. Mr. Koenli, now an adult and independent scientist, is doing experiments in the underground lab he has built.
“MY-NAME-IS-MIG… MIG… MIGMER,” the robot roars coming out of invisibility.
“Can you feel me, Migmer? Give me a retina signal,” Koenli asks, but to his dismay, Migmer stands lifeless to the question.
“My pains, my troubles, my rejections.” Almost screams.
Still no answers. Silence. Mr. Koenli rubs his head.
“What if you could read emotions? It would be a breakthrough in medicine.”
“But, it’s okay,” sighing with tiredness, “you’re not trash, as Mr. Sarkar, and the mayor regards you. I’ve not forgotten them.”
It is already midnight, and the long hours of work exhausted him. Mr. Koenli drifts off to sleep. In his half-sleep, he talks about things that secretly haunt him. His SECRET DESIRES.
“Not Sarker, he is a sucker. I wish I could hang…” he murmurs.
“Fab Lab? Politician’s niche.”
The next morning, Koenli wakes up to news being reported on the TV screen.
FabLab is no more. Nation mourns the deaths of Mr. Sarkar and the Mayor. A strange case of…
Mr. Koenli gazes at the screen with the vernier caliper’s precision. He sees Fab Lab set on flames.
He blinks his eyes. Why do I feel like I’ve seen the Fab Lab’s destruction and demise of Mr. Sarkar already? Mr. Koenli thinks silently to himself.
Something clicks in his mind. He rushes towards the crime scene. Yes, it has happened. Mr. Sarkar has been hanged on a fan with a microphone in his mouth. Next, Mr. Sarkar lay dead in his chair, a wooden card holder designating “CEO” ruthlessly shoved in his mouth.
He rushes back home, sinks into his chair, and his head reclines, wonders, could it be him?
Mr. Koenli storms downstairs where Migmer is kept inside the glass in the darkroom.
“No, you’re not capable of reading my poor nerves.” Mr. Koenli stares at Migmar. He turns back soaking in the silence of the dark room.
At this nick of time, when Mr. Koenli sighs, turns back, and pulls the door towards him as it closes, for once, all in the darkness of the room, Migmer, the red-eyed robot emits a ray of intense red light, before it goes off again.
Emotions?