From corporate labs to neighborhood garages, personal robots are finally fact, not fiction. Is there a mechanical friend in your future?

Tilden, a robotics physicist at WowWee toys, is no Dr. Moreau or Dr. Evil, but he loves the image--and has been called a mad scientist more than once. His creation is the wildly popular Robosapien humanoid robot toy. At a constantly humming 3-acre factory nestled deep within southern China's Guangdong province, workers assemble 5000 of Tilden's 14-inch robots every day. WowWee sold 2 million of the black-and-white creatures this year.

"He's not a devolved human," Tilden insists. "He's an evolved robot. That burps." The burps are just a little "guy humor" that Tilden programmed. An active community of Robosapien hackers goes even further, sharing modification tips online.

Jamie Samans, a 34-year-old consultant for high-end home theater installations in the Seattle area, posts photos of improvements he's made to his own Robosapien. He's outfitted it with a Webcam and given it infrared capabilities so that when he's out, he can control the robot remotely through his PC. "My dogs absolutely hate it," he says.

From dancing to dog-watching, robots are learning tricks unimaginable just five years ago. Ask anyone involved in robotics to describe the industry today, and you hear comparisons to the PC industry in the late 1970s and to the beginning of modern aviation.

The possibilities for intelligent automatons reach beyond toys or the desire to simplify housework--an aspiration that already sells plenty of IRobot Roomba vacuum cleaners. Epson just introduced a tiny flying robot with helicopter-like rotors; a spokesperson says that possible applications include flying them around inside mines to survey the scene.

And due to recent reductions in the price of processors, sensor technology, GPS gear, and other robotics essentials, companies aren't the only ones creating compelling robots. Robot hobbyists are building machines that rival those from academic research labs.

"There are a lot of new ideas occurring today because it's so cheap to try them out," says Larry Barello, president of the Seattle Robotic Society, one of the most active U.S. robot groups, with more than 1500 amateur members who meet regularly, sponsor competitions, and visit local schools. "You can put together a sophisticated robot lab for a couple hundred bucks now, which was unheard of a few years ago."

What kind of ideas has that freedom inspired? Consider this: The Department of Defense faces a congressional mandate that one-third of its vehicles drive themselves by 2010. In 2003, not satisfied with its own progress, DARPA, the government-funded defense research facility, opened a robot design contest, the Grand Challenge, to the public. Vying for a $1 million prize, 106 teams signed up that year to try to create a robotic vehicle that could travel 150 miles through the desert in less than 10 hours. After the qualifying rounds, 16 teams entered the race, but none of their creations completed it. Undaunted, DARPA has scheduled Grand Challenge 2 for October 2005 and upped the prize to $2 million. Applications are pouring in.

"The prize is important, but a lot of people want to do this for the bragging rights," says Ron Kurjanowicz, DARPA's chief of staff and the contest's program manager. "The picture taken of the winning team will be the photograph that enters the history books."

Rick Ruhkick, an engineering technician at the Geophysical Institute at the University of Alaska in Fairbanks, wants to be in that photo. His team of volunteers, Arctic Tortoise, wanted to enter the first challenge but failed to complete its vehicle--a tricked-out 1992 Jeep Cherokee--on time. Arctic Tortoise is well on its way now though, Ruhkick says, thanks to recent improvements made to the Jeep's sensors and electronic and mechanical gear. Of course, training in Alaska for a desert robot run presents its own challenges. "We don't have much desert up here," he says.

A self-driving Jeep Cherokee is a good ways down the road from society's initial fascination with automatons. Though the exact origins of robotics are debatable, many enthusiasts point to Czechoslovakian playwright Karel Capek's 1920 play, Rossum's Universal Robots (RUR), where the term robot first occurred. The word derives from the Czech robota, which means tedious labor. In the play, a young woman travels to a remote island factory owned by a mad-scientist type who has created a fleet of robots to do his bidding. Other people claim that Isaac Asimov's seminal Runaround, in which Asimov spelled out the Three Laws of Robotics, was the flashpoint.

Popular culture has not lost its fascination with (or trepidation about) robots, as evidenced by last summer's movies I, Robot and The Stepford Wives.

Today's home robotics renaissance can be traced more recently to Sony's Aibo. Debuting in 1999, Aibo was one of the first toys to combine some cool talents--like the abilities to follow you around the house and to learn commands--with a sleek design. At $2500, however, the dogbot wasn't for everyone. In the United States, most Aibo buyers were geeks interested in making their own modifications. (In Japan, Sony says that Aibo serves as a companion for the elderly.) Sony has updated the wired terrier three times. The newest, $1900 model responds to some 100 commands, has wireless LAN capabilities, and sees objects more accurately for better navigation.

About a year ago, Sony introduced a new robot called Quest for Curiosity, or Qrio for short. Qrio is not on the market, and Sony has no plans to sell it anytime soon, but the company regularly demonstrates the walking robot at events. So far Qrio has conducted the Tokyo Philharmonic, interviewed Sony's CEO at an annual meeting, and thrown the first pitch at a baseball game.

For now, though, Qrio remains inaccessible to everyone except for a few Sony engineers--a disappointment for anyone who longs to play with the fun toys too.

This sense of frustration has led many robotics fans to pin their hopes on people like WowWee's Tilden and Helen Greiner, the chairwoman of the board and cofounder of IRobot, which makes the $200 Roomba vacuum-cleaning robot. Both entrepreneurs are committed to marketing cutting-edge, hackable robots for a fraction of the cost of the Aibo. Roomba, which debuted in September 2002, is the world's biggest-selling domestic-assistant robot. IRobot has sold more than 500,000 units to date.

Greiner won't reveal what the next Roomba will do, but she has clear ideas about future cousins. "Think about mowing, mopping, cleaning bathtubs, dusting, watering plants, washing windows, cleaning toilets--the list goes on."

Roomba and Robosapien endeared themselves to the robotics community by encouraging purchasers to create other, unintended uses for them. A sizable subculture has sprung up around Roomba, with owners "teaching" the devices to water plants, deliver drinks, and act as security sentinels while toting Webcams.

"Letting people get inside and repurpose an existing robot is a great trend," says Mitchel Resnick, a professor at the MIT Media Lab and co-inventor of Lego Mindstorms, a popular version of Lego toys that enables users to build robotlike creatures. "I'd like to see that become more mainstream."

Robosapien hackers are making modifications of many kinds--removing the robot's hands and attaching other appendages, swapping LED lights for infrareds, and dozens more. There's even a Hack-a-Sapien contest, sponsored by Servo, a robotics magazine.

Some enthusiasts aren't content to alter someone else's creation. They want to make their own.

David Anderson, director of the Geophysical Imaging Laboratory at Southern Methodist University in Dallas, got hooked on robots in the 1980s when he built Lego robotics toys with his sons. Today he's one of the top designers in the Dallas Personal Robotics Group, according to the club's president, John Drummond. "He's been making the coolest robots for a long time," Drummond says.

Anderson's last robot project, the SR04, a squat, three-wheeled device, autonomously maneuvers through courses and uses a grabber arm to complete an objective such as picking up a soda can.

Anderson is currently working on making robots that are more adaptable to their environment. Success in this endeavor represents a Holy Grail of sorts in the robotics community, and it is essentially what DARPA is aiming for with its Grand Challenge. Typically, most robots function only in very controlled situations. An unplanned variable thrown into a robot's path--a carelessly discarded shoe, say--can wreck the robot's game plan. "I want to move robots off the contest course and into the real world," Anderson says.

His current project--a two-wheeled, self-balancing mobile unit called the NBot--has had some success in navigating unfamiliar terrain and was even able to scoot itself safely down a steep access road in the Rocky Mountains. Anderson hopes that NBot may move the robotics community closer to the creation of autonomous and sturdy two-wheeled vehicles that run outside the lab.

Anderson, male and middle-aged, is part of the robotics old guard. Seattle Robotics Society members Ryan Wistort, Genevieve Picard, and Gabrielle Lemieux represent a new wave of enthusiasts.

Wistort, a 21-year-old junior at the University of Washington, got into robotics when he was 15. His crowning achievement to date is Charlotte, a spiderlike device that earned him a prize at the 2002 Intel Science and Engineering Fair. He's currently working on a robot that will travel underground to inspect power cables for breaks and signs of wear.

Picard, 16, and Lemieux, 17, help run the Titan Robotics Club at International High School in Bellevue, Washington. The club has racked up awards in regional and nationwide competitions. (Membership typically floats at around 30 members--not bad for a high school with an enrollment of 250 students.)

Each year the team works on an entry for a nationwide student robotics competition, in response to a task assigned by the contest's organizing committee. The most recent challenge involved building a robot that could pick up balls from one basket, transport them across the room, and deposit them in another basket.

Picard says her interest in robotics grew from a longstanding involvement with technology. For her, robotics was "an egg to be cracked," she says. "Once I saw the robotics club, it opened everything up."

Are these young women worried about being labeled geeks? Definitely not. "My sisters always tease me about how nerdy I am," Lemieux says. "But I'm totally proud of it, so it doesn't bother me."

Where will all this experimentation lead? Various groups are working on home health-care robots that could assist the elderly by performing basic chores and providing companionship, says Ronald Arkin, Ph.D., a professor at Georgia Institute of Technology in Atlanta.

To that end, Arkin's robotics research delves into everything from sensor technology and software to the psychological implications of man's interaction with evolved machines. "It's not enough to have great robots," Arkin says. "They have to work together with people."

It's hard not to get intoxicated imagining a robotic future, but scientists such as Arkin caution against getting carried away. Recent gains achieved by the robot community are incremental, not exponential. Still, robots are undeniably claiming a bigger place in the world, even if the robots themselves are small--for now.

Tilden says that seeing a 24-foot inflatable Robosapien on display at Macy's flagship New York store gave him new ambitions for his 14-inch creation. "We have to build something larger," he muses. "But at least this one can date Barbie."

Before any of us had robots in our homes, we saw them at the movies or on television. But those robot celebs weren't perfect. Here's what we'd change about three of pop culture's most beloved machines.

One of cinema's most anthropomorphic robots, this Star Wars creation possessed many advanced skills but never matched the good looks or spunk of his waste-basket-on-wheels companion, R2-D2.

What we'd reprogram: We can forgive the dithering cowardice. But that supercilious British accent has to go.

The Jetsons' always-on-duty automated maid could vacuum, cook, and answer the door. She even taught Elroy to shoot hoops--plus she looked tidy in her built-in apron.

What we'd reprogram: Rosie was ever efficient and thorough, but let's face it, her figure wasn't exactly what most men hoped to see in a French maid's outfit.

With a barrel chest like a slot machine and arms like ribbed gutter tubing, the robot on TV's Lost in Space looked ready for serious wet/dry vacuum work. But he mostly ended up serving as a mechanized babysitter.

What we'd reprogram: A bit of paranoia can be a good thing. But when a bot flails its arms and yells "Danger! Danger!" every half-hour, the thrill gets old in a hurry.

Source : http://www.pcworld.com/