A Real R2D2 Online advice from TIME technology columnist Josh Quittner     I've always wanted a robot. So many drudge jobs in my life -- doing the dishes, making coffee, harassing office neighbor Joel Stein -- could just as easily be relegated to an R2D2-like servant. Until recently, though, the only robots I ever saw were in movies or, worse, in those spacecraft that carry aliens who abduct you and prod you with metallic objects that leave no visible scars. That's all changed, apparently, with Sony's impossible-to-buy AIBO, a $2,500 robotic dog. Since I already have a somewhat cheaper pooch (Otto Quittner), I'm not interested. Also, no way would my wife let me spend $2,500 on something that wasn't a coffee table. Luckily, the consumer in need of a home robot has a more affordable (and potentially more useful) choice: Cye, a "personal robot" created by Probotics Inc., based in Pittsburgh, Pa. About the size of a toaster oven, Cye made its debut on the Web (www.personalrobots.com), where it goes for $695. An optional vacuum cleaner and wagon add size and dollars. I've been testing the robot for the past few weeks, and though it's an excellent tool for Stein harassment, it can't compete with my daughters in the clearing-the-dinner-table department. Indeed, while Cye's offspring may grow up to be butlers and bartenders, today's robot is best used as an educational toy. You control it via your 133-MHz-or-faster PC. A small radio antenna plugs into the PC's communications port and, with the help of Cye's Map-N-Zap software, beams instructions to the robot. Before heading out on an excursion, Cye must be placed on a "home base," an electric pad that doubles as a recharger and orientation point. By dragging your mouse across an onscreen grid -- and creating a series of checkpoints at which Cye stops to get his bearings -- you chart a route. I found that it was difficult to move Cye precisely using my laptop's mouse, and thus it was slow going trying to input a working route. Nonetheless, after about 20 minutes, a rudimentary thoroughfare -- which I dubbed the Steinway -- was laid out. The robot rolled out my door, hung a left and cruised down the hall about 50 ft. to Stein's office, where it made another left and entered. A few seconds later a short, high-pitched scream (not robotic) indicated that Cye had found its mark. Upon inspection, I saw Stein standing on his sofa. "I fear it," he said, pointing at the orange robot. After Cye mastered the Steinway ("learning" the placement of walls and natural barriers, such as piles of discarded newspapers), I could automatically recall it to my office. From then on, it was a simple task to dispatch Cye whenever necessary. I could even have harassed Stein on the hour by invoking a handy timer function in the software. Satisfied that I'd made my point, though, I stood down. Users looking for more practical applications might wait for later versions of Cye. It cannot manage stairs, so forget about its answering the door if you live in a split-level home. And while you can put Cye down in a room and automatically set up a zigzagging vacuum path, it's not recommended since the optional vacuum tends to get fouled in its electric cord. A cordless model is in the works. Likewise, a camera is being considered, which would make navigating -- and Stein harassment -- that much simpler. Josh's column this week sounds like science fiction, but you'd be surprised how many robots there are out there - some built by multinational think-tanks, others by college students and enthusiastic amateurs. If you're into robots, you're not alone. Reproduced from Time Magazine.30 July 1999