"You mean different parts or robots are being created at separate research operations, then brought together here?" I probably shouldn't have been surprised by the tight, nationwide coordination. Typical Japan.
"Precisely. Robots have a multiplicity of elements. There are manipulators, the mechanical versions of our hands; then there are the senses of vision and touch; and finally there is movement, locomotion. Each of these is being developed individually, then combined here. For example, if a robot is to understand voice commands—in effect making its operator a programmer—then it must incorporate the speech recognition work of the Fifth Generation Project, which will supply the eyes, the ears, the brain."
Maybe that's where Asano comes in, I thought. Could it be he's the point man here for artificial intelligence, on board to oversee creating the computerized brains for all these babies. Was he yet another DNI operative, witting or unwitting, just as Tam and I had been?
Noda's lecture was still underway. "The first generation of robots does things by rote, the same motion repeated dumbly over and over again. What we call the second generation are those with crude sensing abilities, perhaps touch pads or video, though they are still stationary." He placed his hand over a small screen by the door. A light flashed under his palm-—presumably allowing a computer somewhere to analyze his handprint—and a second later the door slid open. Then he continued, "The goal of the work here is a third-generation robot. You might almost call it a functional 'android,' since it will be able to move, see, and think much as we do. Whether it will actually look like a human is another matter, but that's not necessarily even a useful objective."
Intelligent monsters in silicon and steel, I found myself thinking. All our fantasies, or nightmares, come to life.
I didn't have to look far to see that they were already in the womb. We were entering the main laboratory floor now, surrounded by what seemed a Martian landscape of mechanical creatures. The place was bustling, yet spotless as a hospital ward. Noda acknowledged the deep bows of several of the shirt-sleeved staff, then continued.
"Although visitors are not normally permitted in the sensitive areas here, I have arranged total-access priority for you both. I consider you among the few Americans today who can understand the strategic significance of this program."
If Matsuo Noda was really saying that he intended to give us a sobering dose of Japan's impending high-tech clout, he was off to a bang-up start.
Then he turned and greeted a short, white-uniformed man. "Allow me to introduce Dr. Noburu Matsugami, who is senior staff specialist for the program here. Dr. Matsugami will be your guide today."
Matsugami was close to fifty and balding, with short- cropped hair that seemed to stand out on the sides of his head like the bristles of a metal brush. He was bowing to Noda every other second, as though he'd just been summoned by God. He attempted a smile, then greeted us in Japanese, followed by accented English.