Service Model: A Satirical, Smart Robot Odyssey

Rating: 5/5 ⭐️🤖

Ever since 2020, Adrian Tchaikovsky has been on my radar because of Children of Time. I first encountered it during Covid, listening to the audiobook on my evening walks, and it left such a lasting impression. But like so many other authors I meant to revisit, he kept slipping down my ever-growing to-read list. That is, until I picked up Service Model on a whim. I’m so glad I did because this little book turned out to be one of the most enjoyable and thought-provoking reads I’ve had in a long time.

I went into Service Model with no expectations—not even a synopsis or a single review—and that might have been the best way to experience it. The story unfolds in a post-apocalyptic world where humanity has all but vanished, leaving behind a vast population of robots. These machines, programmed to serve humans, now cling desperately to their routines and tasks, even though there’s no one left to benefit from them. At the heart of it all is Charles, a top-of-the-line valet robot living in a crumbling manor. He spends his days serving his master and performing meaningless duties with unwavering precision until one day, while giving a shave, he presses too hard and accidentally kills him.

What follows is an absurd yet oddly moving journey. Robot cops arrive, execute their protocols, and Charles is sent to Diagnostics, where he encounters rows of robots waiting endlessly to be fixed. It’s here that he meets The Wonk, a curious and seemingly defective robot who becomes his unlikely travel companion. Together they set off—Charles desperate to find someone to serve and The Wonk determined to uncover what really caused the collapse of human civilization.

What struck me most about Service Model is how Tchaikovsky weaves humor and tragedy so seamlessly. The robots are absurdly literal, caught in their programming loops, and yet there’s a deep melancholy in their devotion. Charles, for instance, is perfectly content as long as he can tick off a task on his list, even when those tasks are utterly pointless. As they travel through empty estates, redundant projects, and endless queues, you can’t help but reflect on how fragile our own systems might be.

Reading this in 2025, with conversations about AI and ethics constantly swirling around us, felt eerily relevant. It isn’t the AI or robots themselves that seem threatening—it’s how humanity misuses and mistreats both each other and the tools we create. One moment that particularly stayed with me was the revelation about park benches being removed to prevent homeless people from using them, a small but powerful indictment of human choices.

And then there’s Charles—or UnCharles, as The Wonk renames him after their meeting at Diagnostics. He hovers on the edge of sentience, sometimes feeling almost self-aware but never quite breaking free of his programming. His interactions with The Wonk are delightful and often poignant, and I found myself deeply invested in their odd little adventures.

All in all, Service Model is sharp, funny, quietly profound, and lingers in your mind long after the last page. I loved every moment spent with UnCharles and The Wonk as they navigated their broken world. This book surprised me and reminded me why Tchaikovsky remains such a brilliant voice in science fiction. A full 5/5 from me.