In a wonderful land where a great gear shines instead of the sun, and beautiful nails and bolts grow instead of flowers, there live robots. Their lives are almost no different from the lives of humans — robots, just like people, go to work, play games, and communicate.
And the robots live in harmony, and their entire life follows a strictly programmed scenario. Robots also have their own customs and traditions within families. In the morning there is roll call — by serial numbers, breakfast is a refill of machine oil, younger robots have lessons in a special school learning programming and computer science, while older robots perform strictly automated work. In the evening all family members gather to discuss new tasks and go to sleep — they shut down until morning.
One day something unusual happened in the robot country. Robot number 404 malfunctioned. It all started unexpectedly during morning roll call, when number 404 did not respond to his name. The head of the family, a robot of the oldest model, asked in surprise:
Number 404, why aren't you responding? What error is this?
I want to have a different name, — said 404 and blinked his red light.
Running a diagnostic. Bzzzzzz, — the head of the family scanned number 404's forehead, where robots keep their microchips, — Temperature is normal, no deviations in program operation detected. Your name is 404, what is wrong with it?
That's not a name! That's just a serial number! — said 404, and even in his robotic voice you could hear sadness.
Unknown error, — was all the head of the family could say.
But this was not an error. Number 404 worked in the archive. While sorting through folders of scientific research, he found one — a red folder with huge letters printed on it: "The World of Humans." The robot carefully studied the folder's contents and learned that humans are very similar to robots, but do many things their own way. They are very fragile and imperfect.
It is difficult for them to do work that is ordinary for a robot — multiply multi-digit numbers in their heads, lift multi-ton loads, sort data archives at lightning speed. All this seemed very funny to robot number 404, humans amused him, but there was something about them that sparked his interest. And the robot could not understand why he so wanted to be like these "humans" from the Red Folder.
One thing the robot remembered best of all — each human has a name. Names can repeat, but this doesn't frighten humans; they love their names and each name has its own meaning. Victoria — victory, Yegor — farmer, Cyril — ruler, and many other names.
The robot understood that his name "number 404" meant nothing except the number under which it was recorded on his chip. And he wanted so badly to get a new name that he stopped responding to his own.
No one could understand what kind of error had occurred in robot 404's program. He continued to work excellently, never drew complaints from friends and family, but flatly refused to respond to his name. At the same time, he didn't know what he wanted to be called.
Names were not written into his program code. And the names of humans from the Red Folder didn't appeal to him. He hadn't defeated anyone, didn't work the land, and didn't manage any processes. And every morning at roll call the robot would say:
I am not number 404.
Unknown error, — the head of the family repeated again and again.
And these two words: "Unknown error" began to follow the robot everywhere. Whenever he tried to talk to friends about names, he heard in response:
"Unknown error"
He came home or worked in the archive, he heard these words:
"Unknown error"
And robot number 404 understood — this was exactly what characterized him best. He was an error. But he wasn't sad about it; on the contrary, he was happy because he had finally found himself. And the next morning at roll call he proudly said:
I am not number 404.
Unknown error, — answered the head parent.
Yes! That's my name! I am Error 404!
From then on, that's what they called him. When the robot found his new name, he seemed to stand out from the others. It seemed to him that he was special, that he had become closer to those strange "humans" from the Red Folder. And who knows, perhaps one day he will manage to enter their world!
